Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
about London, of chalking the walls, and perceiving in large letters
“Dr. Eady 32 Dean Street Soho,” enquired what was meant by it.
“That,” replied his cousin, “is one of the most ingenious modes of
advertising, hit upon in the Metropolis, and the Doctor at all events
deserves credit for the industry and perseverance he has manifested
in making his name known. It is not altogether new, for it has been
successfully practiced in popular elections. Men are sent out at night
to chalk the names of Candidates on walls and other places, to keep
their interest alive; but in all probability no one has ever before
carried the system to so great a length as this Doctor Eady, for it
is scarcely possible to travel ten miles round the metropolis without
meeting with his name, which naturally excites enquiry into the object
and pretensions of the chalked up Hero. You will also find in many cases
that the proprietor of the Bonassus has ~157~~lately adopted the same
system. It is a species of puffing which can hardly fail of producing
notoriety, and I have before observed, it matters but little to the
parties themselves by what means this is produced save and except the
avoidance of expence.”
“It is a curious scheme however,” replied Bob, “and I have two or three
times before intended to enquire its meaning.”
“There are numerous instances,” returned Tom, “in which the
eccentricities of an individual have blown him into notice, and puff'd
fortune into his pocket. Packwood of Gracechurch street, had many whims
and fancies, and acted upon the idea, that when a man's name is once up,
he may go to bed, or take a nod elsewhere. By making razor strops and
a certain paste for sharpening razors, he pasted his name on public
credulity, and pocketed the proceeds. His advertisements were frequently
laughable, and he caught his customers in their risible moments, wisely
taking care never to laugh himself, 'till he had realized the possibles.
I remember in the year 1807, he published a book, price “Two good Tower
shillings,” containing his advertisements, entitled “Packwood's whim,
Packwoodiana, or the Goldfinches nest, or the way to get money and be
happy.” And to make the publication worth the money, and that there
might be no grumbling, An half crown was according to the title-page,
placed between the leaves.”
“That was no laughing matter, however,” said Bob, “he could not have got
rich by such means.”
“You must not trust the title-pages of books,” replied Tom, “no more
than the advertisements of Quacks, or the looks of persons. The half
crown was not visible, or at least not tangible. It proved to be an
anecdote related in the work. He however managed to circulate many
copies, and it is generally understood, gained considerable money by his
pursuits. He has left the benefit of his invention to his daughter, who
now lives in Bride Lane, Fleet Street. But a more prominent character of
recent times was the late celebrated Martin Van Butchell, whose name and
fame are well known to Newspaper readers, and whose personal appearance
at all times, excited in London the attention of the spectators. He was
rather a tall man with a very long beard, and used to ride a short pony
sometimes, spotted all over with a variety of colours.”
~158~~ “He must have cut a curious figure,” said Bob, “certainly, but
what building have we here?”
“That,” replied his communicative cousin, “is The New Bethlem for the
care and cure of lunatics. Bethlem was formerly situated on the South
side of Moorfields, but as that building was hastening to decay, this
elegant receptacle for its inmates has been prepared. It is not a little
curious to remark, that it now occupies a part of that ground which was
formerly devoted to mirth and revelry, The Dog and Duck Tea Gardens,
the scene of many a frolic. The structure was designed by Mr. Lewis, and
executed at an expence of £95,000. It is 580 feet in length, and capable
of receiving in this front 200 patients. Another line of building
extending to the South, is designed to admit an equal number, as well as
60 lunatics, the charge of which latter department, exclusively belongs
to Government. The ground around it, occupying twelve acres, is devoted
to the exercise of the patients.”
They were now dashing along the road towards the Elephant and Castle,
when Bob was attracted by the appearance of the Philanthropic Chapel and
School, which his cousin dismissed in a few words, by observing it was
the school of reform, which he had alluded to, when last in the vicinity
of Blackfriars, and which deserved more attention than he could just
then give it. So touching up the tits in prime twig, they pushed on to
the originally proposed place of destination.
Having arrived at Greenwich, and partaken of some refreshment, our
heroes proceeded immediately to the Hospital; the magnificent appearance
of which had an evident effect upon Tallyho, as he gazed upon its
exterior, and some of its venerable inhabitants taking their peaceable
walks before it, while others were seated on accommodating benches,
viewing the vessels passing up and down the river.
“Why,” said Bob, “this Hospital is more like a Palace.”
“It is,” replied Tom, “a noble monument of National gratitude to its
defenders, who deserve to be protected and assisted when disabled for
service. Here the lame, the wounded, and the aged, are enabled to spin
out the thread of a useful existence, in comfortable retirement. It
was founded by William and Mary for invalid seamen, and many an
old Commodore and gallant hardy Tar is ~159~~ preserved in this
establishment, after being doused from his pins, to puff old sorrow away
and sing,
“Yet still I am enabled
To bring up in life's rear,
Although I'm quite disabled
And lie in Greenwich tier.
The King, God bless his Majesty,
Who sav'd me from the main,
I'll praise with Love and Loyalty,
But ne'er to sea again.”
“You perceive,” continued he, “that the costume of the place is a suit
of blue, with proper distinctions of rank and station allotted to each.”
“But,” inquired Bob, “some of them appear to have their coats turned
inside out; is that according to choice?”--“Not so,” replied Tosi,
“that is a mark of disgrace, by way of punishment, for some errors or
improprieties of which they have been guilty; and there are some, in
spite of misfortune, who cannot forget former times, and occasionally
verify the words of the song--
“So in misfortune's school grown tough,
In this same sort of knowledge,
Thinking mayhap I'd had enough,
They sent me here to College.
And here we tell old tales and smoke,
And laugh while we are drinking;
Sailors, you know, will have their joke,
E'en though the ship were sinking.
For I while I get grog to drink
My wife, or friend, or King in,
'Twill be no easy thing, I think,
D---- me to spoil my singing.”
And although used to severe discipline on board a ship, they do
sometimes forget what they are subject to here, and “slip the cable upon
an ocean of grog,” grow dizzy over the binnacle, unship the rudder, lose
their calculations, and stand too far out to sea to reach the intended
Port; but more of this presently. You perceive this magnificent
structure consists of four grand buildings, completely separated
from each other; yet forming a very entire and most beautiful
plan--especially viewed from the river, which runs in the front of it.
Here the comforts and ~160~~ conveniences of the hardy veterans, who
have faced the enemies of their country in many fearful encounters, are
studied, when they can no longer give the word of command, or answer
it in such active services. The four different buildings you now see,
contain accommodations for bed and board for about 2600 persons of
different ranks and stations; and you may perceive by those you have
before you, that the ranks they have formerly held in his Majesty's
employ are still visible in their outward habiliments.”
They were now in the centre of the building, approaching the edge of
the Thames, on whose bosom were seen sundry small vessels, gliding in
majestic pride; and perceiving a seat capable of holding four or five
persons, in the corner of which sat an old weather-beaten tar, in
a gold-laced hat and coat, with a wooden leg, who was watching with
apparent delight one of the larger vessels, with all her sails set to
catch the breeze; they took a seat alongside of him.
“Come,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “we may here at «ase survey the
exertions of such as still retain the power, and contemplate the
comforts of those who no longer have powers to exert.” The Pensioner
remained in mute attention to the moving scene on the river,
occasionally smiling and squirting from his jaws the accumulating
essence of his quid, seeming at the same time to enjoy in retrospection
scenes similar to what he had formerly been engaged in, but without
bestowing one look on our Heroes. “There is a fine fresh breeze down the
river,” continued Tom, addressing the wooden legged warrior; and then a
pause ensued--but no reply.
“It is a beautiful situation for retirement in old age,” said Bob. “I
should think, Sir,” said he, “that you must be very comfortable under
this protecting roof,” determined, if possible, to elicit something from
the hardy old Pensioner, approaching a little closer to him, and at the
same time to take his attention, respectfully moving his hat.
Tins address, however, was received with nearly the same effect as the
previous observations, except that the veteran moved his hat in return.
“He is a churlish old blade,” said Tom; thinking by this remark to rouse
and animate the blood of their taciturn companion.--“There seems to be
no intelligence in him. Pray, Sir,” continued he, “may I be so bold as
to inquire, laying his hand upon ~161~~ his knee, what is the name of
that vessel on which you appear to bestow so many anxious looks?”
Roused by the touch, he darted a hasty look at Tom, and then at Bob,
started hastily from his seat, held up his stick, as they supposed, in
a menacing attitude, then shouldering it, he marched, or rather hobbled,
on his wooden pin some paces from them, and, with an air of commanding
authority, returned in front of them, took off his hat, and began
to describe two lines on the gravel, but which was to them perfectly
unintelligible.
However, in a few minutes, the arrival of a younger Pensioner, with one
arm and a wooden stump, in breathless haste, informed them that the old
gentleman was deaf and dumb.
“God bless you, my worthy masters,” said the interpreter, who first
paid his respects to the old Commodore, “you have started my revered
commander on his high ropes; he is as deaf as the top-lights, and as
dumb as a stantion: two and twenty years ago, your Honors, he and I
were both capsized together on board; the shot that took off his leg
splintered my arm, and the doctor kindly took it off for me afterwards.”
“That was a lamentable day for you,” said Tom. “Why aye, for the matter
of that there, d'ye see, it disabled us from sarvice, but then we both
of us had some consolation, for we have never been separated since:
besides, we were better off than poor Wattie the cook, who had his head
taken off by a chain-shot, and was made food for sharks, while we are
enabled to stump about the world with the use of our remaining limbs,
and that there's a comfort, you know.”
During this introductory conversation, the old Commodore was intent
upon the work he had began, which, upon inquiry, was a sort of practical
description of the situation in which the ships were placed at the