Real Life In London Part 70

The Squire having occasion to call at a banker's in Fleet Street, the two friends entered at the moment when a countryman with a most rueful expression of countenance, stood transfixed to the floor, like the statue of Despair, incapable either of speech or motion. After an absorption of mental faculty of several minutes duration, he burst out into the incoherent exclamations of

"Murrian take un, zay I!--Icod, I'ze in a voine pickle! I ha brought my pigs to market wi a vengeance! O luord! O luord! whoa would ha thought en't?"

He then began exercising his feet by stamping each alternately on the floor, with a violence that shook the room to its foundation; and this vehement thunder he accompanied by correspondent energy of gesticulation; distorting his visage, and casting about his arms with the action of an infuriated maniac. The place was thrown into alarm, and business was suspended. Dashall now addressing himself to the presumed lunatic, begged him to compose himself, and endeavour briefly to state what had happened, that if he had sustained an injury, redress might be obtained.

After several fruitless attempts at narration, he at length told his story; and that it may lose nothing of its originality, we shall give it in the first person.

"I'ze cuom zur, frae Zumersetzs.h.i.+re to Lunnon, first time o' my loife, by coach, where it putt en at a pleace called the two Gooses necks, and zo having a cheque on this house for Fifty Pounds, and not knowing the way, I axed a vera civil gentleman whom I met wi' hovering about Inn-yard; and telling him my business, Pze go with you, zaid he, vera kindly, and help thee to take care o! thy money, vor there be a desperate set o' sharp fellows in Lunnon ready to take every advantage of a stranger; ~92~~ and zoa we came along, and just avore we gotten into house here, he said to I, zays he, I'ze take thy money and zee that all's right, vor there be a vast many bad sovereigns about.--Well, zur, zoa he did; and just as I wur looking about, it seems he had taen himself off wi'the money, vor when I looked round he wur no where to be zeen; and zoa zur, I have lost Fifty good Pounds to my sorrow. Who would ha thought it!--I wish the murrian had ha hold on me avore I had come to this wicked world o' Lunnon!"

Here the countryman concluded his narrative, exciting the amus.e.m.e.nt of some and the sympathy of others of his auditory.--The banker dispatched one of his clerks with the unlucky wight to one of the Public Offices, for the purpose of describing the depredator, altho' with very small chance of recovering the property.{1}

Eliminating on the folly of this credulous countryman, our perambulators now proceeded down Fleet Street, where casting a look into Bolt Court--"Here," said Dashall, "lived and died the colossus of English literature, Doctor Samuel Johnson,{2} a man whose like the world may

1 In all the Coach and Waggon yards in London there are fellows loitering about with the view of plunder; they frequently are taken by the unwary countryman, for domestics of the Inn, and as such are entrusted with property with which they immediately decamp, and by many other artful manouvres secure their spoil.

2 The most trivial circ.u.mstance in the life of a great man, carries with it a certain somewhat of importance, infinitely more agreeable to the generality of readers than the long details which history usually presents. Amongst the numerous anecdotes of Doctor Johnson, perhaps the following is not the least amusing.--When the Doctor first became acquainted with David Mallet, they once went, with some other gentlemen, to laugh away an hour at South-wark-fair. At one of the booths where wild beasts were exhibited to the wondering crowd, was a very large bear, which the showman a.s.sured them was "cotched" in the undiscovered deserts of the remotest Russia. The bear was muzzled, and might therefore be approached with safety; but to all the company, except Johnson, was very surly and ill tempered. Of the philosopher he appeared extremely fond, rubbed against him, and displayed every mark of awkward partiality, and ursine kindness. "How is it, (said one of the company,) that; this savage animal is so attached to Mr. Johnson?" From a very natural cause, replied Mallet: "the bear is a Russian philosopher, and he knows that Linnaeus would have placed him in the same cla.s.s with the English moralist. They are two barbarous animals of one species."--Johnson disliked Mallet for his tendency to infidelity, and this sarcasm turned his dislike into downright hatred. He never spoke to him afterwards, but has gibbeted him in his octavo dictionary, under the article "Alias."

~93~~perhaps never see again; yet with all his vast erudition he had his prejudices and superst.i.tions; he believed in apparitions, and he despised all countries save his own.--The Scotch and Irish he affected particularly to dislike.--In his poem of "London," in imitation of Juvenal, he says,--

For who unbrib'd would leave Hibernia's land, Or change the rocks of Scotland for the Strand?-- There none are swept by sudden death away, But all whom Hunger spares, with age decay!

But, with all his foibles, (and who is there without human infirmity?) Doctor Samuel Johnson was the most highly talented writer of any age or nation."

Facing the Obelisk, "let us stroll down the market," said Dashall, "considered the cheapest in London.--Flesh, fish and fowl, fruits, roots and vegetables, are here abundantly attainable, and at moderate prices."

Amongst the various venders, our two observers pa.s.sed on, unmolestedly, excepting the annoyance and importunity of "What d'ye buy? what d'ye buy, buy, buy?" from" barking butchers, who instinctively reiterated the phrase as the casual pa.s.senger approached, like so many parrots, unconscious of its import being unproductive in effect; for who would be induced to purchase by the clamorous invitation universally in use by these vociferous butchers of the metropolis?--"My fine fellow," observed Tallyho to one who annoyed him, "good wine, they say, needs no bush, neither does good meat require a barker."

"Bad luck to my mother's own daughter, and that is myself, sure,"

exclaimed a retail venderess of vegetables, to her opponent in trade, "if I wouldn't for the value of a tester, or for the value of nothing at all at all, give you freely just what you ask for my jewel.--Arrah now, is it law that you want of me! Faith and troth then you shall have it, _club-law_, when and where you plase, my darling!"

"Dirty end," rejoined the other lady, "to the girl who fear* you!--Here am I, Kate, of the Maclusky's of Ballymena, in the county of Antrim, long life to it! and it would be a hard case, and a shameful one to boot, if a well educated northern la.s.s should suffer her own self to be disgraced by a Munster-woman."

~94~~ "The devil fly away with Ballymena, and the Macluskys along with it!" retorted the other; "and is it Munster and heddication that you are bothering about? Whillaloe graraachree! my sweet one! and did you begin your larning in Ballymena, and come to finish it in Fleet-market? By my conscience, Kate Maclusky, if you are not very much belied, you know more than you ought to do."

"And what would you 'sinuate by that?" demanded Kate;--"What do you 'sinuate by that, Ma'am?--I acknowledge that I'm both a wh.o.r.e and a thief--what then? Bating that I defy you to say, black is the white of my eye!"

Here Mrs. Maclusky with arms a-kimbo, and a visage strongly expressing exasperation and defiance, advanced towards the Munster-woman.

"Let us step aside," said Dashall, "hostilities are about to commence."

He was right; a few more irritable preliminaries, and the heroines came in contact, in due order of battle.

"Two to one on the Munster-woman." "Done! Ulster for ever! go it Kate!--handle your dawdles, my girl;--s.h.i.+ver her ivory;--darken her skylights;--flatten her sneizer;--foul, foul,--ah you Munster b----ch!"

"Fair, fair;--arrah, now for the honor of Munster;--dig away;--mind your hits;--rattle her bread basket;--set her claret-spout a-going;--stand firm on your pegs;--what, down!"

Thus ended round the first; the amazons had, in the fray, reduced each other from the waist upwards to nearly a state of nudity. On either side the partisans were numerous, the combatants eager to renew the fight, and the spectators, the majority of whom were of Irish distraction, anxious for the result, when the officious interposition of official authority, terminated the "tug of war," and the honor of the two provinces remained undecided.--

"Success to the land that gave Patrick his birth." Tranquillity thus restored, a new scene in the drama of Fleet-market attracted the attention of the two visitants.

A rabbit pole-woman pa.s.sing through the market, was accosted by a lady, who enquiring the price of the Rabbits, purchased a couple, in front of the shop of a similar exhibitant.--This was considered by the rabbit-dealers of the market, a gross breach of privilege, more particularly as the obnoxious female had presumed to undersell them, even with a superior article. Not willing, however, from ~95~~prudential reasons, to appear in avowed personal hostility against the object of their vengeance, and that, too, a woman, who had inadvertently incurred the displeasure of their high mightinesses, the subordinate agency of boys was deputed for the purpose of wrecking summary retribution; and the juvenile deputation quickly overthrew in the apparent wantonness of mischief, the whole of the poor girl's day-property, and scrambling for the spoil, disseminated themselves in different directions, leaving not the vestige of a rabbit behind!

A torrent of tears, feelingly shewed the anguish of her mind. She was ruined beyond hope of redemption; the rabbits she had every morning on credit, she plied the streets in selling them, through many a wearisome hour in the day, happy if next morning, having realized a very moderate profit by her laborious vocation, she could settle accounts with the wholesale dealer, and take a fresh cargo with which to commence another day's adventure.--But now, wringing her hands in an agony of grief, "It is all over with me!" she exclaimed,--" my means of subsistence is gone,--my credit is lost,--and G.o.d's will be done,--I must go home and starve!"{1}

1 It is scarcely credible that one salesman in Leadenhall market, at the present time, sells on an average 14,000 rabbits weekly. He contracts with the coach masters for the carriage, and pays them eleven pounds per thousand, amounting, weekly, to 154. The way he disposes of them, is by employing 150 travelling pole-men and women; in the morning they are started upon credit, and the next day they return, bringing back the skins, settle the accounts, and then take a fresh cargo.

Ever p.r.o.ne to relieve distress, Dashall and Tallyho sympathized most sincerely with this unfortunate girl; there was an indescribable something of extreme interest about her, which was well calculated to excite a feeling of generous commiseration.

Shall we now say the two philanthropists? for such they proved themselves. Each then, in the same moment, expanded his purse, and together more than compensated the delighted and astonished girl for her loss, who, blessing her benefactors, went home rejoicing.

Gaining the extremity of the market, at the bottom of Skinner-street, the two friends rounded the corner, and verged towards Ludgate-hill by the Fleet Prison. Here a fresh claim, though of lesser magnitude, obtruded itself on their benevolence. "Pity the poor debtors, having no ~96~~ allowance!" exclaimed an emaciated being, gazing with an eye of wistful expectancy, through the thrice-grated window of a small apartment on a level nearly with the street; "Pity the poor debtors;"

The supplicating tone of deep distress in which these words were uttered spoke irresistibly to the heart, and the blessing of Heaven was once more invoked on the donors.

"And this is the prison," observed the Squire, "where a presumed scion of the Royal branch, a few days ago surrendered to her bail, as a prisoner for debt."--"The same," rejoined his Cousin, "and the Princess is now most unroyally domiciled at a private-house within the rules of the Fleet, on Ludgate-hill.--_Sic transit gloria mundi!_"

"Certainly," said the Squire, "this London produces extraordinary sights, and not less extraordinary occurrences;--but of all the scenes of Real Life which has. .h.i.therto come within the scope of our observation, the most singular is that of the presumed legitimate cousin of the King of England, recently in a Spunging-house, and now confined for a debt of a few hundred pounds to the rules of the Fleet."{1}

1 Ci-divant Princess of c.u.mberland

To the Right Hon. Lord Sidmouth.

My Lord,'--When I reflect on the injuries I have received by the refusal of your Lords.h.i.+p to forward my claims in a proper way to his Majesty, I consider it as a duty that I owe to my high descent, to enquire of your Lords.h.i.+p, why I have been suffered to remain so long neglected and deprived of the rights, which in common with other younger branches of the Royal Family, I am ent.i.tled to? As soon as the demise of my late Royal Uncle, his late Majesty, occurred, I addressed your Lords.h.i.+p, for his present Majesty's gracious knowledge. In my letters, repeatedly sent to your Lord-s.h.i.+p, I a.s.sured you for the King's knowledge, that I had but one anxious desire, which was to act in conformity to his Majesty's Royal will and pleasure, after an audience had been allowed to shew my papers. If, my Lord, I had been an impostor, it was the duty of Ministers to have enquired into my claims, and to have exposed them if unjust or illegal.

But, no! my Lord; every application was treated with cold and apathetic contempt; and although all the writings of my parent's marriage and my birth have been verified according to law, at Judge Abbott's chambers, Sergeants' Inn,--at Master Simeon's Office, Court of Chancery,--before Sir Robert Baker and Barber Beaumont Esq.--and twelve affidavits sworn and sent in to your Lords.h.i.+p, yet at this late moment I find myself neglected and oppressed, and without one guinea of support from the Government or Royal Family! My dear late cousin, Prince Edward, Duke of Kent, supported and protected me several years before his lamented death. His Royal Highness saw the papers delivered to me by the Earl of Warwick of my legitimacy, and there are at least a hundred papers connected with my parent's affairs and my own; and General Wetherall, Comptroller to his late Royal Highness, looked over many such papers, at my residence in his Royal Master's life-time. The excellent heart of the late Duke of Kent was of a nature to decide, in all events of life meeting his eye, with religion and moral justice. Thus has he loved and cherished me, his cousin, and solemnly bound himself to see me righted the moment that the death of his late Majesty authorised my papers meeting the eye of the nation.

My Lord,--You well know why my claims are neglected--a mighty cause exists! But it is a duty that I owe to myself and the English nation to give a narrative of facts as they are, unless immediate justice is done me. I am Olive, the only child of the late Duke of c.u.mberland, by Olivia, his virtuous, injured wife; and very shortly the public shall know the great and forbearing conduct of Dr. Wilmot. To him at one period, the English were indebted for tranquillity; it can be proved, my Lord. And although my health is similar to the late injured Queen's (my first cousin,) from having experienced every deprivation and persecution from interested enemies, yet I religiously trust the time is not remote, when truth will triumph over calumny and oppression.--I have the honor to be, my Lord,

Your obedient servant,

Olive.

Ludgate-hill, Nov. 6th. 1821.

~97~~"Some Kings are not partial to female cousins; and the legitimacy (said Dashall,) of this pretended Princess of c.u.mberland does not appear sufficiently tangible to admit of recognition, otherwise, without doubt, she would have been provided for!"

"Her case, however, wears not much the semblance of imposition," said the Squire. "The circ.u.mstances which she so minutely states, with reference to living characters, strongly imply that her pretensions are not ill-founded."

They had now reached Ludgate-hill; a crowd was collected opposite the residence of the Princess of c.u.mberland, when the captive heroine condescended to shew herself at the window.--She is of matronly appearance, and was well dressed.--The mobility received her with due respect; the lady made her obeisance, and the a.s.semblage retired, on terms apparently of reciprocal satisfaction.--

Strolling onwards until they gained the centre of Blackfriars Bridge, the two friends paused in admiration of the interesting scene before them.

Amidst the spires and turrets of the metropolis, Saint Paul's, close at hand, rose in the proud pre-eminence of stupendous grandeur, like a mighty monarch surrounded ~98~~ by tributary kings, rendering him the homage of va.s.salage.

--Emerging from the dense ma.s.s of buildings on the line from the Tower to Westminster Abbey, appeared a continued succession of prominent public edifices; on the river Thames the scene was diversified by numerous wherries, gliding pleasurably on the rippling wave; some shooting under the arches of the elegant Waterloo, and others under the s.p.a.cious span of the lofty iron bridge of Southwark,--while on either side the river, Labour was on the alert, and the busy and ceaseless hum of Industry resounded far and near.

'Twas low water, and the _mud-larks_ now intent on their several vocations, engaged the eye of the Squire.--"What are those people about?" he asked, "What are they in search of?"

"These are _mud-larks_," answered his friend, "in search of what chance may throw in their way; all's fish that comes to net! You have much to learn yet of Real Life in London, and must prolong your stay accordingly.--Willing to eat the bread of honesty, these poor people are in the daily practice of frequenting the sh.o.r.es of the Thames, to literally pick up a living. Nothing comes amiss; all that is portable, however insignificant in value, goes into the general repository.

The mud-lark returns home, when his labours are ended, sorts the indiscriminate heterogeneous "ma.s.s of matter," and disposes of it as well as he can."{1}