Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.

P >> Pierce Egan >> Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.

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None of the prisoners could deny the charge, but expressed
great contrition at being under the painful necessity of
procuring their subsistence in so disgraceful a manner. They
were examined individually, by the magistrates, as to the
origin that brought them to disgrace. Some, from their
admission, were farmers' daughters, and had been decoyed
from their relatives, and brought to London, and
subsequently deserted by their seducers. Some were nursery-
maids--others, girls seduced from boarding schools. Their
tales were truly distressing--some had only been six months
in such infamy, others twelve months, and some two years and
upwards.

The worthy magistrate, with much feeling, admonished them on
the evil course they were following, and pointed out the
means still left for them to return to the paths of virtue;
and on their severally promising never to appear again in
that quarter, they were discharged."

Passing through Temple Bar, "Once more," said ~342~~ Dashall, "we enter
the dominions of another Sovereign,--the Monarch of the City,--than
whom there is none more tenacious of the rights and immunities of
his subjects. Professing a strictly civil government, and consequent
hostility to military interference, it does not always happen that the
regal sway of the East harmonizes with that of the West, and the limited
reign of the former is generally most popular when most in opposition
to that of the latter. Several important events have occurred wherein a
late patriotic Right Honourable Chief Magistrate has had the opportunity
of manifesting a zealous, firm, and determined attachment to the
privileges of the community: the good wishes of his fellow-citizens have
accompanied his retirement, and his private and public worth will be
long held in deserved estimation."

Turning up the Old Bailey, and passing, with no pleasing sensations,
that structure in front of which so many human beings expiate their
offences with their lives, without, in any degree, the frequency of
the dreadful example lessening the perpetration of crime,--"The crowd
thickens," exclaimed the 'Squire; and advancing into Smithfield, a
new scene opened on the view of the astonished Tallyho. An immense and
motley crowd was wedged together in the open space of the market, which
was surrounded by booths and shows of every description, while the
pavement was rendered nearly impassable by a congregated multitude,
attracted by the long line of stalls, exhibiting, in ample redundancy,
the gorgeously gilt array of ginger-bread monarchs, savory spice-nuts,
toys for children and those of elder growth, and the numerous other
_et cetera_ of Bartholomew Fair, which at that moment the Lord Mayor
of London, with accustomed state and formality, was in the act of
proclaiming.

A more dissonant uproar now astounded the ears of Bob than ever issued
from the hounds at falt in the field or at variance in the kennel! The
prolonged stunning and vociferous acclamation of the mob, accompanied
by the deeply sonorous clangor of the gong--the shrill blast of the
trumpet--the hoarse-resounding voices of the mountebanks, straining
their lungs to the pitch of extremity, through speaking tubes--the
screams of women and children, and the universal combination of discord,
announced the termination of the Civic Sovereign's performance in the
drama; "the revelry now had began," ~343~~ and all was obstreperous
uproar, and "confusion worse confounded."

In the vortex of the vast assemblage, the Hon. Tom Dashall and his
Cousin were more closely hemmed in than they probably would have been at
the rout of female distinction, where inconvenience is the order of the
night, and pressure, to the dread of suffocation, the criterion of rank
and fashion. Borne on the confluent tide, retreat was impracticable;
alternately then, stationary and advancing with the multitude, as it
urged its slow and undulating progress; or paused at the attractions of
Wombwell and Gillman's rival menageries--the equestrian shows of Clark
and Astley--the theatres of Richardson and Gyngell, graced by the
promenade of the _dramatis personae_ and lure of female nudity--the young
giantess--the dwarfs--and the accomplished lady, who, born without arms,
cuts out watch-papers with her toes, and takes your likeness with her
teeth!--Amidst these and numerous other seductive impediments to their
progress, our pedestrians, resisting alike temptation and invitation,
penetrated the mass of spectators, and gained an egress at Long Lane,
uninjured in person, and undamaged in property, "save and except" the
loss, by Bob, of a shoe, and the rent frock of his honourable Cousin.
To repair the one and replace the other was now the predominant
consideration. By fortunate proximity to a descendant of St. Crispin,
the latter object was speedily effected; but the difficulty of
finding, in that neighbourhood, a knight of the thimble, appearing
insurmountable, the two friends pursued their course, Dashall drawing
under his arm the shattered skirts of his garment, until they reached
Playhouse Yard, in Upper Whitecross Street, St. Luke's, to which they
had been previously directed, the epitome of Monmouth Street, chiefly
inhabited by tailors and old clothes retailers, where purchase and
repair are equally available.

Entering a shop occupied by an intelligent Scotch tailor, who, with
his son, was busily employed in making up black cloth and kerseymere
waistcoats, his spouse, a native of Edinburgh, with a smile of
complacency and avidity of utterance that strongly indicated a view to
the main chance, put her usual inquiry:

"What is your wull, Gentlemen--what wad you please to want?"

"My good lady," answered Dashall, "we would be ~344~~ glad to accept the
services of your husband," exhibiting at same time the rent skirts of
his frock. "This accident was sustained in passing, or rather in being
squeezed through the Fair; my friend too, experienced a trifling loss;
but, as it has been replaced, I believe that he does not require present
amendment."

The materials destined to form the black waistcoats were then put aside,
while the northern adept in the exercise of the needle proceeded
to operate on the fractured garment; and a coat being supplied, _ad
interim_, Tom and his friend accepted the "hospitable invitation of the
guid wife, and seated themselves with unhesitating sociability.

"And sae ye hae been to the Fair, gentlemen?" "We have, madam," said
Dashall, "and unintentionally so; we were not, until on the spot, aware
of any such exhibition, and got within its vortex just as the Lord Mayor
had licensed, by proclamation, the commencement of this annual scene of
idleness, riot and dissipation!"

"Hoot awa, Sir, ye wadna wish to deprive us o' our amusements; poor
folks dinna often enjoy pleasure, and why should na they hae a wee bit
o' it now and then, as weel as the rich?"

"I know not, my good lady," exclaimed Bon, "that I can altogether
assimilate with your's my ideas of pleasure; if it consists in being
pressed nearly to death by a promiscuous rabble, in attempts on your
pocket, shoes trod off your feet by the formidable iron-cased soles of a
drayman's ponderous sandals, to say nothing of the pleasing effect thus
produced upon your toes, and in having the coat torn off from your back,
I would freely resign to the admirers of such pleasure the full benefit
of its enjoyment."

"Accidents wull happen ony where and in ony situation," replied the
garrulous wife; "ye may be thankfu', gentlemen, that its nae waur,--and,
for the matter o' the rent frock, my guid man wull repair it in sic a
way that the disaster wull no be seen, and the coat wull look as weel as
ever."

The promise was verified; the reparation was made with equal neatness
and celerity; something beyond the required remuneration was given; and
Dashall inquiring if the worthy dame of _Auld Reekie_ would take a drop
of cordial, the friendly offer was accepted, and the glass of ~345~~
good fellowship having been drank, and civilities interchanged, the
strangers departed.

They were now in Whitecross Street, where sojourned their acquaintance
of the morning, the distressed Poet; and, from the accuracy of
description, had no difficulty in ascertaining his place of residence.

It was in a public-house; a convenient lodging for the forlorn
being, who, exiled from friendship, and unconnected by any ties of
consanguinity, can dress his scanty meal by a gratuitous fire, and where
casual generosity may sometimes supply him with a draught of Hanbury's
exhilarating beverage.

At the bar, directly facing the street door, the strangers, on inquiring
for the Poet by name, were directed by the landlord, with a sarcastical
expression of countenance, to "the first floor _down the chimney_!"
while the Hostess, whose demeanour perfectly accorded with that of
the well-manner'd gentlewoman, politely interfered, and, shewing the
parlour, sent a domestic to acquaint her lodger that he was wanted below
stairs.

The summons was instantaneously obeyed; but as the parlour precluded the
opportunity of private conversation, being partly occupied by clamorous
butchers, with whom this street abounds to redundancy, the Poet had no
other alternative than that of inviting the respectable visitants to
his attic, or, as the Landlord facetiously named the lofty domicile, his
first floor down the chimney!

Real Life in London must be seen, to be believed. The Hon. Tom Dashall
and his friend Tallyho were reared in the lap of luxury, and never
until now formed an adequate conception of the distressing privations
attendant on suffering humanity.

With a dejection of spirits evidently occasioned by the humiliating
necessity of ushering his polished friends into the wretched asylum of
penury, the Poet led the way with tardy reluctancy, while his visitors
regretted every step of ascent, under the appalling circumstance of
giving pain to adversity; yet they felt that to recede would be more
indelicate than to advance.

The apartment which they now entered seemed a lumber room, for the
reception of superfluous or unserviceable furniture, containing not
fewer than eleven decayed and mutilated chairs of varied description;
and the limited space, to make the most of it in a pecuniary point of
view, ~346~~ was encroached upon by three uncurtained beds, of most
impoverished appearance,--while, exhibiting the ravages of time in
divers fractures, the dingy walls and ceiling, retouched by the trowel
in many places with a lighter shade of repairing material, bore no unapt
resemblance to the Pye-bald Horse in Chiswell-street! Calculating on its
utility and probable future use, the builder of the mansion had given
to this room the appendage of a chimney, but evidently it had for many
years been unconscious of its usual accompaniment, fire. Two windows had
originally admitted the light of heaven, but to reduce the duty, one
was internally blocked up, while externally uniformity was preserved. A
demolished pane of glass in the remaining window, close to which stood
a small dilapidated table, gave ingress to a current of air; the
convenient household article denominated a clothes-horse, stood against
the wall; and several parallel lines of cord were stretched across the
room, on which to hang wet linen, a garret being considered of free
access to all the house, and the comfort or health of its occupant held
in utter derision and contempt!

Here then,--

"In the worst Inn's worst room, with cobwebs hung,
The walls of plaster and the floors of dung,"

entered Dashall and his Cousin Tallyho. The latter familiarly seating
himself on the ricketty remains of what had once been an arm-chair, but
now a cripple, having lost one of its legs, the precarious equilibrium
gave way under the unaccustomed shock of the contact, and the 'Squire
came to the ground, to his no small surprise, the confusion of the poet,
and amusement of Dashall!

With many apologies for the awkwardness of their very humble
accommodation, and grateful expression of thanks for the honour
conferred upon him, the Poet replaced Tallyho in a firmer seat, and a
silence of some few moments ensued, the two friends being at a loss in
what manner to explain, and the Poet unwilling to inquire the object of
their visit.

Dashall began at last, by observing that in pursuit of the knowledge of
Real Life in London, he and his accompanying friend had met with many
incidents both ludicrous and interesting; but that in the present
instance their visit was rather influenced by sympathy than ~347~~
curiosity, and that where they could be serviceable to the interest of
merit in obscurity, they always should be happy in the exercise of a
duty so perfectly congenial with their feelings.

Many years had elapsed since the person, to whom these remarks were
addressed, had heard the voice of consolation, and its effect was
instantaneous; his usual sombre cast of countenance became brightened by
the glow of cheerful animation, and he even dwelt on the subject of his
unfortunate circumstances with jocularity:

"The elevated proximity of a garret," he observed, "to the sublimer
regions, has often been resorted to as the _roost of genius_; and why
should I, of the most slender, if any, literary pretensions, complain?
And yet my writings, scattered amongst the various fugitive periodical
publications of this and our sister island, if collected together, would
form a very voluminous compilation."

"I have always understood," said Bob, "that the quality, not the
quantum, constituted the fame of an author's productions."

"True, Sir," answered the Poet; "and I meant not the vanity of
arrogating to myself any merit from my writings, with reference either
to quantum or quality. I alluded to the former, as merely proving the
inefficacy of mental labour in realizing the necessaries of life to an
author whom celebrity declines acknowledging. Similarly situated, it
would appear was the Dutchman mentioned by the late Doctor Walcot,

"My Broder is te poet, look,
As all te world must please,
For he heb wrote, py Got, a book
So big as all this cheese!"

"On the other hand, Collins, Hammond, and Gray, wrote each of them but
little, yet their names will descend to posterity!--And had Gray, of his
poems the _Bard_, and the _Elegy in a Country Church Yard_, written
only one, and written nothing else, he had required no other or better
passport to immortality!"{1}

1 Of that great and multitudinous writer, Doctor Samuel
Johnson, the following anecdote is told: "Being one morning
in the library at Buckingham House honoured with the
presence of Royalty, the King, his late Majesty, inquired
why he, (Mr. Johnson) did not continue to write. "May it
please your Majesty," answered the Doctor, "I think I have
written enough."--"I should have thought so too," his
Majesty replied, "if, Doctor Johnson, you had not written so
well."

~348~~ In this opinion the visitants, who were both well conversant with
our native literature, readily acquiesced.

"Have you never," asked Dashall, "thought of publishing a volume by
subscription?"

"I meditated such intention," answered the Poet, "not long ago; drew
up the necessary Prospectus, with a specimen of the Poetry, and
perambulated the Metropolis in search of patronage. In some few
instances I was successful, and, though limited the number, yet the high
respectability of my few Subscribers gave me inexpressible satisfaction;
several of our nobility honoured me with their names, and others, my
patrons, were of the very first class of literature. Nevertheless,
I encountered much contumelious reception; and after an irksome
and unavailing perseverance of a month's continuance, I was at last
compelled to relinquish all hope of success.

"Having then on my list the name of a very worthy Alderman who lately
filled the Civic Chair with honour to himself and advantage to his
fellow-citizens, I submitted my prospectus in an evil hour to another
Alderman, a baronet, of this here and that there notoriety!

"Waiting in his Banking-house the result of my application, he
condescended to stalk forth from the holy of holies, his inner room,
with the lofty demeanour of conscious importance, when, in the presence
of his Clerks and others, doubtless to their great edification and
amusement, the following colloquy ensued, bearing in his hand my unlucky
Prospectus, with a respectful epistle which had accompanied it:--

"Are you the writer," he asked in a majesterial tone, "of this here
letter?"

"I am, Sir W*****m, unfortunately!"

"Then," he continued, "you may take them there papers back again, I have
no time to read Prospectuses, and so Mister Poet my compliments, and
good morning to you!!!"

"These literally were his words; and such was the astounding effect they
produced on my mind, that, although I had meant to have passed through
the Royal Exchange, I yet, in the depth of my reverie, wandered I knew
not where, and, before recovering my recollection, found myself in the
centre of London Bridge!"

~349~~ The detail of this fact, so characteristic of rude, ungentlemanly
manners, and the barbarian ignorance of this great man of little soul,
excited against him, with Dashall and his friend, a mingled feeling of
ridicule, contempt and reprobation!

"Real Life in London still!" exclaimed Talltho; "intellect and indigence
in a garret, and wealth and ignorance in a banking-house!--I would
at least have given him, in deficiency of other means, the wholesome
castigation of reproof."

"I did," said the Poet, "stung to the quick by such unmerited contumely,
I retired to my attic, and produced a philippic named the Recantation:
I cannot accommodate you at present with a copy of the Poem, but the
concluding stanzas I can repeat from memory:--

"C****s, thy house in Lombard Street
Affords thee still employment meet,
Thy consequence retaining;
For there thy Partners and thy Clerks
Must listen to thy sage remarks,
Subservient, uncomplaining.

And rob'd in Aldermanic gown,
With look and language all thy own,
Thou mak'st thy hearers stare,
When this here cause, so wisely tried,
Thou put'st with self-applause aside,
To wisely try that there.

Nor can thy brother Cits forget
When thou at civic banquet sate,
And ask'd of Heaven a boon,
A toast is call'd, on thee all eyes
Intent, when peals of laughter rise--
A speedy peace and soon!

Nor yet orthography nor grammar,
Vain effort on thy pate to hammer,
Impregnable that fort is!
Witness thy toast again,--Three Cs;
For who would think that thou by these
Meant Cox, and King, and Curtis
C****s, though scant thy sense, yet Heaven
To thee the better boon hast given
Or wealth--then sense despise,
And deem not Fate's decrees amiss,
For still "where ignorance is bliss
'Tis folly to be wise!"

~350~~ "Bravo!" exclaimed Dashall; "re-issue your Prospectus, my friend,
and we will accelerate, with our best interest and influence, the
publication of your volume. Let it be dedicated to the Hon. Tom Dashall
and his Cousin Bob Tallyho. In the meanwhile, accept this trifle, as a
complimentary _douceur_ uniformly given on such occasions; and, amidst
the varied scenes of Real Life in London, I shall frequently recur to
the present as the most gratifying to my feelings."

"By this the sun was out of sight,
And darker gloamin brought the night."

The benevolent associates now departed, pleased with the occurrences of
the day, and, more than all, with the last, wherein the opportunity
was afforded them of extending consolation and relief to genius in
adversity!~351~~

CHAPTER XXII

........"Mark!
He who would cut the knot that does entwine
And link two loving hearts in unison,
May have man's form; but at his birth, be sure on't,
Some devil thrust sweet nature's hand aside
Ere she had pour'd her balm within his breast,
To warm his gross and earthly mould with pity.

.......I know what 'tis
When worldly knaves step in with silver beards,
To poison bliss, and pluck young souls asunder."

TOM and his Cousin were surprised the next morning by a visit from
Mr. Mortimer and his friend Merrywell, whose dismal features and long
visages plainly indicated some unpleasant disaster, and Tom began to
fear blame would be attached to them for leaving his party at Darkhouse
Lane.

"Pray," said Merrywell, "can you tell me where to find your friend
Sparkle?"

"Indeed," replied Dashall, a little relieved by this question, "I am not
Sparkle's keeper; but pray be seated--what is the matter, is it a duel,
do you want a second?--I know he is a good shot."

"This levity, Sir," said Mortimer, "is not to be borne. The honour of a
respectable family is at stake, and must be satisfied. No doubt you,
as his very oldest friend, know where he is; and I desire you will
immediately inform me, or------"

"Sir," said Dashall, who was as averse as unused to be desired by any
person--"do you know whom you address, and that I am in my own house?
if you do, you have certainly discarded all propriety of conduct and
language before you cross'd the threshold."

"Gentlemen," said Merrywell, "perhaps some explanation is really
necessary here. My friend Mortimer speaks under agonized feelings,
for which, I am sure, your good sense will make every allowance. Miss
Mortimer------"

"Miss Mortimer," exclaimed Dashall, rising from his ~352~~ seat, "you
interest me strongly, say, what of Miss Mortimer?"

"Alas," said Mortimer, evidently endeavouring to suppress emotions which
appeared to agitate his whole frame, and absorb every mental faculty,
"we are unable to account for her absence, and strongly suspect she is
in company with your friend Sparkle--can you give us any information
relative to either of them?"

Dashall assured them he knew nothing of the fugitives, but that he
would certainly make every inquiry in his power, if possible to find
out Sparkle. Upon which they departed, though not without hinting they
expected Tom had the power of making a search more effectually than
either Mortimer or Merrywell.

"Egad!" said Tom to Tallyho, "this absence of Sparkle means something
more than I can at present conceive; and it appears that we must
now venture forth in search of our guide. I hope he has taken a good
direction himself."

"Mortimer appears hurt," continued Bob, "and I can scarcely wonder at
it."

"It is a trifle in high life now-a-days," replied Dashall, "and my life
for it we shall obtain some clue to his mode of operation before the
day is out. Love is a species of madness, and oftentimes induces
extraordinary movements. I have discovered its existence in his breast
for some time past, and if he is really with the lady, I wonder myself
that he has not given some sort of intimation; though I know he is very
cautious in laying his plans, and very tenacious of admitting too many
persons to know his intentions, for fear of some indiscreet friend
unintentionally frustrating his designs."

"I apprehend we shall have a wild-goose chase of it," rejoined Bob.

"It serves however," continued Tom, "to diversify our peregrinations;
and if it is his pleasure to be in love, we will endeavour to chase
pleasure in pursuit of the Lover, and if guided by honourable motives,
which I cannot doubt, we will wish him all the success he can wish
himself, only regretting that we are deprived of his agreeable company.

"Still free as air the active mind will rove,
And search out proper objects for its love;
But that once fix'd, 'tis past the pow'r of art
To chase the dear idea from the heart.
'Tis liberty of choice that sweetens life,
Makes the glad husband and the happy wife."

~353~~ "But come, let us forth and see how the land lies; many persons
obtain all their notoriety from an elopement; it makes a noise in the
world, and even though frequently announced in our newspapers under
fictitious titles, the parties soon become known and are recollected
ever after; and some even acquire fame by the insertion of a paragraph
announcing an elopement, in which they insinuate that themselves are
parties; so that an elopement in high life may be considered as one of
the sure roads to popularity."

"But not always a safe one," replied Bob.

"Life is full of casualties," rejoined Dashall, "and you are by
this time fully aware that it requires something almost beyond human
foresight to continue in the line of safety, while you are in pursuit of
Real Life in London. Though it may fairly be said, 'That all the world's
a stage, and all the men and women merely passengers,' still they have
their inside and their outside places, and each man in his time meets
with strange adventures. It may also very properly be termed a Camera
Obscura, reflecting not merely trees, sign-posts, houses, &c. but
the human heart in all its folds, its feelings, its passions, and its
motives. In it you may perceive conceit flirting its fan--arrogance
adjusting its cravat--pedantry perverting its dictionary--vacuity
humming a tune--vanity humming his neighbour--cunning shutting his eyes
while listening to a pedagogue--and credulity opening his eyes and ears,
willing and anxious to be deceived and duped."