Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
each other down his cheeks; and Dashall and his friend were about to
administer liberally to his relief, the former observing, “There can be
no deception here,” when the applicant was suddenly pounced upon by an
officer, as one of the greatest impostors in the Metropolis, who, with
the eyes of Argus, could transform themselves into a greater variety of
shapes than Proteus, and that he had been only fifty times, if not more,
confined in different houses of correction as an incorrigible rogue
and vagabond, from one of which he had recently contrived to effect his
escape. The officer now bore off his prize in triumph, while Dashall,
hitherto “the most observant of all observers,” sustained the laugh
of his Cousin at the knowing one deceived, with great good humour, and
Dashall, adverting to his opinion so confidently expressed, “There can
be no deception here,” declared that in London it was impossible to
guard in every instance against fraud, where it is frequently practised
with so little appearance of imposition.
The two friends now bent their course towards Covent Garden, which,
reaching without additional incident, they wiled away an hour at
Robins's much to their satisfaction. That gentleman, in his professional
capacity, generally attracts in an eminent degree the attention of his
visitors by his professional politeness, so that he seldom fails to
put off an article to advantage; and yet he rarely resorts to the puff
direct, and never indulges in the puff figurative, so much practised by
his renowned predecessor, the late knight of the hammer, Christie, the
elder, who by the superabundancy of his rhetorical ~18~~flurishes, was
accustomed from his elevated rostrum to edify and amuse his admiring
auditory.{1}
Of the immense revenues accruing to his Grace the Duke of Bedford,
not the least important is that derived from Covent Garden market. As
proprietor of the ground, from every possessor of a shed or stall, and
from all who take their station as venders in the market, a rent is
payable to his Grace, and collected weekly; considering, therefore,
the vast number of occupants, the aggregate rental must be of the first
magnitude. His Grace is a humane landlord, and his numerous tenantry
of Covent Garden are always ready to join in general eulogium on his
private worth, as is the nation at large on the patriotism of his public
character.
Dashall conducted his friend through every part of the Market, amidst a
redundancy of fruit, flowers, roots and vegetables, native and exotic,
in variety and profusion, exciting the merited admiration of the
Squire, who observed, and perhaps justly, that this celebrated emporium
unquestionably is not excelled by any other of a similar description in
the universe.
1 The late Mr. Christie having at one time a small tract of
land under the hammer, expatiated at great length on its
highly improved state, the exuberant beauties with which
Nature had adorned this terrestrial Paradise, and more
particularly specified a delightful hanging wood.
A gentleman, unacquainted with Mr. Christie's happy talent
at exaggerated description, became the highest bidder, paid
his deposit, and posted down into Essex to examine his new
purchase, when, to his great surprise and disappointment, he
found no part of the description realized, the promised
Paradise having faded into an airy vision, “and left not a
wreck behind!” The irritated purchaser immediately returned
to town, and warmly expostulated with the auctioneer on the
injury he had sustained by unfounded representation; “and as
to a hanging wood, Sir, there is not the shadow of a tree on
the spot!” “I beg your pardon, Sir,” said the pertinacious
eulogist, “you must certainly have overlooked the gibbet on
the common, and if that is not a hanging wood, I know not
what it is!”
Another of Mr. Christie's flights of fancy may not unaptly
be termed the puff poetical. At an auction of pictures,
dwelling in his usual strain of eulogium on the unparalleled
excellence of a full-length portrait, without his producing
the desired effect, “Gentlemen,” said he, “1 cannot, in
justice to this sublime art, permit this most invaluable
painting to pass from under the hammer, without again
soliciting the honour of your attention to its manifold
beauties. Gentlemen, it only wants the touch of Prometheus
to start from the canvass and fall abidding!”
~19~~ Proceeding into Leicester Square, the very extraordinary
production of female genius, Miss Linwood's Gallery of Needlework
promised a gratification to the Squire exceeding in novelty any thing
which he had hitherto witnessed in the Metropolis. The two
friends accordingly entered, and the anticipations of Tallyho were
superabundantly realized.
This exhibition consists of seventy-five exquisite copies in needlework,
of the finest pictures of the English and foreign schools, possessing
all the correct drawing, just colouring, light and shade of the original
pictures from whence they are taken, and to which in point of effect
they are in no degree inferior.
From the door in Leicester Square the visitants entered the principal
room, a fine gallery of excellent proportions, hung with scarlet
broad-cloth, gold bullion tassels, and Greek borders. The appearance
thus given to the room is pleasing, and indicated to the Squire a still
more superior attraction. His Cousin Dashall had frequently inspected
this celebrated exhibition, but' to Tallyho it was entirely new.
On one side of this room the pictures are hung, and have a guard in
front to keep the company at the requisite distance, and for preserving
them.
Turning to the left, a long and obscure passage prepares the mind,
and leads to the cell of a prison, on looking into which is seen the
beautiful Lady Jane Gray, visited by the Abbot and keeper of the Tower
the night before her execution.
This scene particularly elicited the Squire's admiration; the deception
of the whole, he observed, was most beautiful, and not exceeded by
any work from the pencil of the painter, that he had ever witnessed.
A little farther on is a cottage, the casement of which opens, and the
hatch at the door is closed; and, on looking in at either, our visitants
perceived a fine and exquisitely finished copy of Gainsborough's Cottage
Children standing by the fire, with chimney-piece and cottage furniture
compleat. Near to this is Gainsborough's Woodman, exhibited in the same
scenic manner.
Having enjoyed an intellectual treat, which perhaps in originality as
an exhibition of needlework is no where else to be met with, our
perambulators retired, and reached home without the occurrence of any
other remarkable incident.~20~~
CHAPTER II
“Look round thee, young Astolpho; here's the place
Which men (for being poor) are sent to starve in;--
Rude remedy, I trow, for sore disease.
Within these walls, stifled by damp and stench,
Doth Hope's fair torch expire, and at the snuff,
Ere yet 'tis quite extinct, rude, wild, and wayward,
The desperate revelries of fell Despair,
Kindling their hell-born cressets, light to deeds
That the poor Captive would have died ere practised,
Till bondage sunk his soul to his condition.”
The Prison.--Act I. Scene III.
TRAVERSING the streets, without having in view any particular object,
other than the observance of Real Life in London, such as might occur
from fortuitous incident; our two perambulators skirted the Metropolis
one fine morning, till finding themselves in the vicinity of
Tothill-fields Bridewell, a place of confinement to which the
Magistrates of Westminster provisionally commit those who are supposed
to be guilty of crimes. Ingress was without much difficulty obtained,
and the two friends proceeded to a survey of human nature in its most
degraded state, where, amidst the consciousness of infamy and the
miseries of privation, apathy seemed the predominant feeling with these
outcasts of society, and reflection on the past, or anticipation of the
future, was absorbed in the vacuum of insensibility. Reckless of his
destiny, here the manacled felon wore, with his gyves, the semblance
of the most perfect indifference; and the seriousness of useful
retrospection was lost in the levity of frivolous amusement. Apart from
the other prisoners was seated a recluse, whose appearance excited the
attention of the two visitants; a deep cloud of dejection overshadowed
his features, and he seemed studiously to keep aloof from the
obstreperous revelry of his fellow-captives. There was in his manner
a something inducing a feeling of commiseration which could not be
extended to his callous ~21~~ companions in adversity. His decayed
habiliment indicated, from its formation and texture, that he had seen
better days, and his voluntary seclusion confirmed the idea that he
had not been accustomed to his present humiliating intercourse. His
intenseness of thought precluded the knowledge of approximation on his
privacy, until our two friends stood before him; he immediately rose,
made his obeisance, and was about to retire, when Mr. Dashall, with
his characteristic benevolence, begged the favour of a few moments
conversation.
“I am gratified,” he observed, “in perceiving one exception to the
general torpitude of feeling which seems to pervade this place; and
I trust that your case of distress is not of a nature to preclude
the influence of hope in sustaining your mind against the pressure of
despondency.”
“The cause of my confinement,” answered the prisoner, “is originally
that of debt, although perverted into crime by an unprincipled,
relentless creditor. Destined to the misery of losing a beloved wife
and child, and subsequently assailed by the minor calamity of pecuniary
embarrassment, I inevitably contracted a few weeks arrears of rent to
the rigid occupant of the house wherein I held my humble apartment,
when, returned one night to my cheerless domicil, my irascible landlord,
in the plenitude of ignorance and malevolence, gave me in charge of a
sapient guardian of the night, who, without any enquiry into the nature
of my offence, conducted me to the watch-house, where I was presently
confronted with my creditor, who accused me of the heinous crime of
getting into his debt. The constable very properly refused to take
cognizance of a charge so ridiculous; but unluckily observing, that had
I been brought there on complaint of an assault, he would in that case
have felt warranted in my detention, my persecutor seized on the idea
with avidity, and made a declaration to that effect, although evidently
no such thought had in the first instance occurred to him, well knowing
the accusation to be grossly unfounded. This happened on a Saturday
night, and I remained in duresse and without sustenance until the
following Monday, when I was held before a Magistrate; the alleged
assault was positively sworn to, and, maugre my statement of the
suspicious, inconsistent conduct of my prosecutor, I was immured in the
lock-up house for the remainder of the day, on the affidavit of ~22~~
perjury, and in the evening placed under the friendly care of the
Governor of Tothill-fields Bridewell, to abide the issue at the next
Westminster sessions.”
“This is a most extraordinary affair,” said the Squire; “and what do you
conjecture may be the result?”
“The pertinacity of my respectable prosecutor,” said the Captive, “might
probably induce him to procure the aid of some of his conscientious
Israelitish brethren, whom 1 never saw, towards substantiating the