Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
desire to follow so laudable an example, the waiter submissively put the
question, “Which would you please to have, gentlemen, buttock or flank,
or a plate of both?” That the quality of each might be ascertained,
plates of both were ordered, and presently brought in, piping hot, and
in the first style of culinary perfection.{1}
~100~~ It was amusing to observe the characteristic features of the
different guests.
The young man hurrying over his meal, and frequently casting a look on
the dial, indicated a tradesman's book-keeper, desirous of enjoying his
pipe and pint ere the allotted dinner hour expired, when he must return
to his desk.
Another, of meagre and cadaverous appearance, had his plate replenished,
thrice repeated, and each time dispatched the contents with astonishing
celerity. This man without doubt, was either a poet or a bookseller's
hack, who, probably had not for sometime enjoyed the novelty of a
dinner, and was thus making atonement to appetite accordingly.
One gentleman fashionably attired kept mincing his meat, and at long
intervals supplying masticates that seemed not at all alert in the
performance of their office.--His attention was given rather to the
company than to his plate, and was particularly directed to Dashall
and Tallyho, on whom it alternately settled with fixed and favourite
regard.--This very polite personage was assiduously eager by every
possible courtesy to ingratiate himself into the notice of our two
friends; but Dashall was a knowing fish, so the bait wouldn't take;
and the Squire happening to ejaculate the word Spunger, the stranger
prudently took the hint, and withdrew.{2}
1 Thirty years ago this house was noted for the excellent
quality of its boiled beef;--no other meat is ever drest
here,--Hobson's choice, or none! During that period it has
had several occupants, and each has retired with a very
considerable fortune. In the decided superiority of its
buttock and flank, the house still sustains its pristine
reputation.
2 These gentry are hardly to be distinguished from the
Hanger-on, except by being, if possible, more impudent; they
frequent all places of public resort, in order to pick up a
dinner or a bottle, and otherwise prey upon the credulity of
the unwary. Whenever they meet with a countryman, they
salute him with enquiring the time of day, or describing the
weather, and entertaining him with a story of little
consequence, till they have artfully wheedled you into an
invitation to dine or sup with you. They can tell you where
the best entertainment is to be met with; which is the best
comedian; can get you introduced to see such an actress; to
hear this sing or that spout; will provide you with the best
seat at the play-house, or keep a place for you in the front
row of the first gallery, should you prefer it to the pit;
can procure a ticket for the exhibition rooms for half
price, and explain every thing in the museum as well as the
librarians themselves.--If your inclination is for mischief,
he is the only man in the world to assist you; would you
break the lamps, or Mill the Charleys, he will stand by and
cry Bravo! till you are carried to the Watch-house, but will
not engage in the quarrel himself, acting only as a _corps
de reserve_. When you are taken, he will negotiate with the
constable of the night about your ransom, for which you must
pay smartly, other-wise be detained till Justice opens her
doors to descry and punish your enormities, according to the
nature of the crime committed; upon which the Spunger says,
that he foresaw and told you the consequences that would
happen if you persevered, but that you would not listen to
his advice.
~101~~ Having done satisfactory justice to the buttock and flank, and
further refreshed themselves with a draught of Whitbread's Entire;
our pedestrians, leaving the “Boil'd Beef House,” recommenced their
excursion by proceeding up the Old Bailey, when Dashall remarking on the
number of Eating Houses with which that street abounds, observed, that
it seemed a favorite seat of consolidation for the professors of the
culinary art, like Cloth-fair for Woollen-drapers, Paternoster-Row for
Booksellers, and Clerkenwell for Watch-makers, &c. “This,” said Dashall,
“is His Majesty's Gaol of Newgate, and from this door ascend the
numerous victims to the fatal scaffold, in immolation to the offended
laws of their country. Let us enter this temporary abode of crime
and wretchedness. It has been much meliorated by the humane and
indefatigable attentions of an excellent lady, Mrs. Elizabeth Fry, and
I am desirous of seeing the result of her philanthropic exertions.” The
gentlemanly appearance and demeanour of the two strangers facilitated
their admission, and they entered the prison preceded by one of the
turnkeys, who courteously had proffered his services in shewing the
place, and giving every required information.
Newgate, on the eastern side of the Old Bailey, has been rebuilt, its
walls or shell excepted, since it was destroyed by the rioters, in the
year 1780. A broad yard divides Newgate from the Sessions House, a very
handsome stone and brick building. Another edifice, where that lately
stood, commonly called Surgeon's Hall, has been erected; it is arched
underneath, and supported upon pillars, and is used as a place of
accommodation for witnesses and other persons, while waiting for the
trials during session time.
~102~~ This prison, until within these few years back, was a place of
confinement as well for debtors as felons, but by late arrangements,
and the erection of the new gaol in Whitecross-street, Newgate has now
become the receptacle of felons only.{1}
1 Newgate has been the scene of two remarkable events, which
frequently serve as eras of reckoning to some of the
inhabitants of Loudon; the first is, that of the memorable
riots in 1780, when this imposing edifice was attacked by a
furious mob in the evening of Monday the 5th of June, who by
breaking the windows, batter-ing the entrances of the cells
with sledge hammers and pickaxes, and climbing the walls
with ladders, found means to enter Mr. Akerman's house,
communicating with the prison, and eventually liberated
three hundred prisoners. The next of these events oc-curred
on the 23rd of February, 1807. This was when Haggarty and
Holloway were to suffer for the murder of Mr. Steele on
Houns-low Heath. The populace began to assemble so early as
five o'clock, and to accumulate until eight. (It is supposed
that the concourse of people was greater than at the
execution of Governor Wall.) At eight o'clock the prisoners
ascended the scaffold. Im-mediately after they were launched
off, a most dreadful scene took place. The approaches to the
place were completely blocked up with carts, filled with
spectators, and when some of the crowd began to move away,
the pressure became dreadful. Some fell, and others falling
over them they were trampled to death. Terror took
possession of the crowd, they became desperate, and their
efforts only contributed to increase their danger. As soon
as this frightful confusion ceased, forty-two sufferers in
the scene were carried to St. Bartholomew's Hospital. Of
these, twenty-seven were dead; and though every effort was
made for their resuscitation, in not one instance was it
crowned with success. Of forty-two, the whole number, five
were women, and three of them were among the dead. Of the
remaining twenty-four bodies, five were men, and the rest
lads, from twelve to seventeen years of age. Among the dead
men was a pye-man, who was said to have fallen first, and
caused the dreadful catastrophe. A great number of the
pupils in attendance happened to be collected in St.
Bartholomew's Hospital at the time, and afforded prompt
assistance; and Dr. Powell, and a Surgeon, who were both
upon the spot, directed their humane exertions.
In the Old Bailey stood Sydney-house, known by the white front, and the
recess in which it is concealed; and here Jonathan Wild is said to have
lived the greatest part of his time. The north side of Newgate consists
of two court-yards, which are far too circumscribed for the numerous
inhabitants, this prison always exhibiting a multitudinous calendar of
human depravity. The men's court is only 49 feet 6 inches, by 31 feet 6,
and the women's of the same length, and about half the width. The whole
square is entirely surrounded by the wards, ~103~~ which rise three
stories above the pavement. The women's yard is separated from the
men's by a wall. In the south and south-east yards, felons for trial are
confined, and four other yards are similarly occupied. The yard assigned
to female felons is a wretched place, containing three wards, in which
are sometimes kept upwards of one hundred women. In the north-east
corner, next Newgate-street, is the condemned yard, in which are
kept persons under sentence of death. The yards and all the wards are
repeatedly lime-washed, and by these and other excellent regulations
of the Sheriffs of London, Newgate is changed from a loathsome prison,
dangerous to the health of the metropolis, to a state which may
be quoted as a model for all similar places. Water is plentiful,
ventilators are introduced into every window, and a general system of
cleanliness prevails throughout the whole prison. The morals of its
inmates have been improved, and their condition greatly meliorated
by Mrs. Elizabeth Fry, who like her predecessor in the exercise of
philanthropy, the celebrated Howard, delights in reducing the sum
of human misery. The feelings of the two visitors having been
amply gratified by demonstration of the happy result, from superior
management, accruing to the prisoners, they departed, not forgetting
the poor box, put up for general benefit, inviting the contributions of
charitable strangers.
Continuing their route, our perambulators proceeded down Skinner street
into Holborn, and traversed its extended line without any remarkable
occurrence, until they reached Broad Street, St. Giles's. “We are now,”
said Dashall, “in the Holy Land.”
“Long life to your honors,” exclaimed a ragged professor of mendicity:
“give a poor fellow the price of a _shake down_, and may you never be
without the comforts of an _upright_!”
“What mean you,” asked the Squire, “by a shake down and an upright?”
“Not the worse luck that you don't know that self same thing now; but
sure enough a shake-down is a two-penny layer of straw, and saving the
tatters on my back, not a covering at all at all; may the son of my
father never have a worse birth any how.”
“And an upright?”
~104~~ “Is it an upright your honor's spaking about?--fait and troth, as
to that same, may the devil fly away with Thady O'Flannagan, and that is
myself sure, if he knows much about it at all at all, seeing as how he
has not rested his old bones on such a thing, arrah, these many long
years; but sure enough it is four stumps, with boards across, a good
flock-bed, a blanket below and a sheet above, with a decent coverlet
pieced and patched in a hundred places to boot;--may you never want the
like of it, any how!”
“Thanks for your good wishes, my friend,” said Dashall; “and this for
the information which you have given us.”
“By the powers of good luck!” exclaimed the itinerant philosopher, “a
tirteener!--Now an Irishman's blessing upon you for two good-hearted
gentlemen; may you live all the days of your lives in peace and