Gossip in the First Decade of Victoria's Reign
by John Ashton
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He was, afterwards, removed to Broadmoor, and I have been told, although I cannot vouch for the fact, that he was liberated some years ago, and sent to Australia.

Early in July, we begin to hear of a higher style of farming than that previously in use, as we find the Dumfries Courier advocating the use of nitrate of soda as a manure, but, yet, are cautious on the subject.—"An extensive trial of it will be necessary before any proper judgment can be pronounced. It is, as yet, unknown whether its effects are lasting, and until this is ascertained, caution must be used."

Another thing, too, was just beginning to attract attention—Electro-metallurgy. True it is that Wollaston applied the principle of the Voltaic pile to the deposition of one metal upon another in 1801, and it was further developed by Bessemer (1834), Jacobi and the Elkingtons in 1838, and Spencer in 1839, but for practical utility it was still in its infancy, and we can see how far it had advanced, in the following extract from a German Paper: "Munich, 22 July, 1840.—Much is at present said in the public papers respecting the imitations of medals, reliefs, etc., by means of a galvanic deposition of copper. This art, called Galvano plastic, first discovered by Professor Jacobi of St. Petersburg, and brought to greater perfection by Mr. Spencer, of Liverpool, and by Professor Von Kebel, of Munich, may justly be classed as one of the most useful of modern inventions; and, from its great importance, its employment in technical operations must soon become general. Indeed, some persons in England, perceiving the great influence which this invention is destined to have on manufacturing industry, are already applying it to the production of buttons, arabesques, and various ornaments in Copper. Herr G. A. Muller, mechanician of Leipsic, has recently called attention to the application of Galvano plastic to typography. He has, however, been, in some measure, anticipated by the experiments made in 1839, in Rosel's printing office, in Munich; where, by following the methods of Jacobi and Spencer, the lines of copperplate were produced in relief. Wood cuts were, also, converted into metallic plates, which, to say nothing of the advantage of the solidity of the metal, far exceeded the effect of the most perfect casting. The experiments for making stereotype plates in copper have, also, been successful. In short, the invention has now reached that stage which must secure for it the attention of all practical men."

Mulready's postal wrapper having been killed by universal derision: in July was produced an envelope with an embossed head of the Queen thereon, and these could be bought until the close of her reign.

Prince Louis Napoleon, previously to his ill-starred expedition to Boulogne, had left instructions for his furniture and jewellery to be sold; and sold they accordingly were by Christie and Manson on 21 Aug., and Mr. Bernal and other virtuosi went to the sale to see what Napoleonic relics they could pick up. Among these were two silver cups, with the eagle and initial of Queen Hortense, 5 pounds 10/- and a casket of camei, formerly the property of the Empress Josephine, was divided into 22 lots, one of which was a pair of earrings, the gift of Pius VI. to Josephine during the first campaign in Italy, in 1796, sold for 46 pounds 4/-, and the original marble bust of Napoleon, when Consul, dated 1804, by Canova, fetched 232 pounds 11/-.

On 28 Aug. Prince Albert received the freedom of the City of London; and, on 11 Sep., he was made a Privy Councillor.


Lord Cardigan and the "Black bottle" case—Lord Cardigan's duel with Lieut. Tuckett—Steam to India—Nelson Column—Mormonism—"The Boy Jones"—Napoleon's body transferred to France.

About this time the Earl of Cardigan made himself particularly conspicuous before the public, and the commencement of it was the famous "black bottle" question, and I well remember that that useful utensil was, for many years, called a "Cardigan." My Lord was Colonel of the 11th Hussars, "Prince Albert's Own," and it so happened that, on the 18th May, 1840, when the Inspecting Officer dined with the mess, Captain Reynolds of "Ours" ordered, at mess, a bottle of Moselle, which, instead of being decanted, was served in its original envelope, a proceeding which gave offence to the aristocratic taste of the Colonel, and, according to a statement which was published in many newspapers:

"The following morning Capt. Jones delivered the following message to Capt. Reynolds: 'The Colonel has desired me, as president of the mess committee, to tell you that you were wrong in having a black bottle placed on the table, at a great dinner like last night, as the mess should be conducted like a gentleman's table, and not like a tavern, or pothouse,' or words to that effect. Capt. Reynolds received the message with astonishment, but without remark, and, subsequently, waited on the Earl of Cardigan, and complained of it, but received no satisfactory answer.

"A short time afterwards, Capt. Reynolds met Capt. Jones in the mess-room, and, in the presence of two officers, said to him: 'Captain Jones, I wish to speak to you about the message you brought me this morning. In the first place, I do not think you were justified in giving it at all; as a brother captain, having no possible control over me, it would have been better taste if you had declined to deliver it.' He replied: 'I received it from the Commanding Officer, and, as such, I gave it; and, if you refuse to receive it from me, I shall report it.' Capt. Reynolds replied: 'Do not misunderstand me, Captain Jones; I have received, and do receive it; but the message was an offensive one; and I tell you, once for all, that, in future, I will not allow you, or any man, to bring me offensive messages.' Capt. Jones said: 'If I am ordered to give a message, I shall give it.' Capt. Reynolds said: 'Well, you may do as you please; but if you bring me improper messages, you must take the consequences.' Capt. Jones replied, 'he should certainly do so,' and left the room.

"The two captains who were present (one not an officer of the regiment) proved that Capt. Reynolds' manner was quiet and inoffensive. Capt. Jones reported the conversation; and, soon afterwards, Capt. Reynolds was summoned to the orderly room; where, in presence of Major Jenkins, the adjutant, and Capt. Jones, Lord Cardigan thus addressed Capt. Reynolds, in no very agreeable tone, or manner: 'If you cannot behave quietly, Sir, why don't you leave the regiment? This is just the way with you Indian officers; you think you know everything; but I tell you, Sir, that you neither know your duty, nor discipline. Oh, yes, you do know your duty, I believe, but you have no idea whatever of discipline, and do not, at all, justify my recommendation.' Capt. Reynolds remained silent; when Lord Cardigan added, 'Well, I put you in arrest.'

"Capt. Jones then offered Capt. Reynolds his hand, upon which, Capt. Reynolds, turning towards him, said, 'No, Capt. Jones, I will not shake hands with you; nothing has passed which renders it necessary. I have no quarrel with you, and I deny having insulted you, and see no reason why I should shake hands with you, or the contrary.'

"Lord Cardigan said, 'But I say you have insulted Capt. Jones.' Capt. Reynolds quietly replied, 'I have not, my Lord'; upon which Lord Cardigan said, 'Well, I put you under arrest, and shall report the matter to the Horse Guards.' Capt. Reynolds said, 'I am sorry for it;' and retired.

"The matter was reported to the Horse Guards, after Capt. Reynolds had been in close arrest three days. Lord Hill sent a memorandum, recommending Capt. Reynolds to acknowledge the impropriety of his conduct towards Lord Cardigan, and to declare his readiness to resume friendly intercourse with Capt. Jones. This recommendation Capt. Reynolds obeyed; but he still refused to shake hands with Capt. Jones, which would seem to imply a previous quarrel, or to drink wine with him within any specified time.

* * * * *

"On the 9th of June, Gen. Sleigh went to Canterbury; had all the officers of the regiment brought before him, and, without any investigation, read to them a letter from Headquarters, condemning Capt. Reynolds's conduct in very strong language; approving of that of Lord Cardigan, throughout, in every particular, stigmatizing Capt. Reynolds's motives as pernicious and vindictive, and refusing a court-martial, because many things would be brought to light which would not be for the good of the Service.

"Capt. Reynolds then requested that he might be brought to a court-martial for the offences for which he had now been charged. This was also refused, as it was stated Lord Hill had determined it should be considered as settled. And, as if this was not enough, Gen. Sleigh told Capt. Reynolds that he had forfeited the sympathy of every officer of rank in the Service.

"Capt. Reynolds applied for copies of all letters referred to in this statement, which are not given at length, and was refused them."

He still kept in the regiment, which, perhaps, was unwise on his part, as the sequel shows. Early in September, an evening party was given by the Earl of Cardigan, to which, as usual, several officers of the regiment were invited. In the course of the evening, a young lady casually observed, aloud, that she "did not see Capt. Reynolds there." The Earl of Cardigan, who happened to be near, heard the remark, and replied, "Oh, no; he is not one of my visitors." The words were uttered without any marked expression, and did not, at the time, attract particular attention. They were, however, carried to Capt. Reynolds, who, conceiving that the expression was calculated to affect him as a gentleman, wrote a letter to the Earl of Cardigan, to know if the expression had been used, and in what sense. This letter remained unanswered, and the consequence was, that Capt. Reynolds, stung with this apparently further slight, was induced to send a second and a stronger letter, couched in terms which could bear no other interpretation than that of a challenge.

On receiving this letter, the Earl of Cardigan consulted with his friends; and, after fairly considering the matter, it was determined to submit the letters with the whole of the circumstances connected with the case, to the consideration of the Colonel of the regiment, Prince Albert. The Prince, on receiving the papers, laid them before the Commander-in-Chief, Lord Hill, for his opinion thereon, when it was resolved, by the latter, to let the matter come fairly before the public, in the shape of a court-martial, which was, shortly afterwards, held at Brighton. This court confined itself chiefly to the consideration of the second letter written by Capt. Reynolds, which they conceived to be couched in a spirit so insubordinate, ungentlemanly, and insolent, as to afford the writer no sort of excuse, or palliation for his conduct, on the alleged grounds of previous provocation on the part of his commanding officer, and they adjudged that Capt. Reynolds should be cashiered (Oct. 20).

It certainly was not from a wish not to fight a duel that Lord Cardigan thus acted with regard to Capt. Reynolds (and no one who remembers his heading the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava, can question his courage), for he challenged and fought with Lieut. Tuckett, on 12th Sep.; a duel which was thus reported in the papers:

In consequence of the Earl of Cardigan having ascertained that certain letters published recently in the Morning Chronicle, reflecting, as his lordship supposed, on his character as an officer and a gentleman, were written by Lieut. Tuckett, late of the same regiment (11th Hussars), the noble lord sent him, through Captain Douglas, of the 11th, a challenge, which was at once accepted, and Capt. Wainwright (half-pay) was the friend selected by Mr. Tuckett to arrange the preliminaries. An apology was demanded by the noble lord, to which the reply was, that if he would deny the allegations contained in the letters referred to, it should be given. Lord Cardigan declared that certain portions of those letters were true, but that the greater part were calumnies. On this, the apology was refused, and a meeting was the consequence. It took place on the afternoon of the 12th Sep., on Wimbledon Common. The first shot was ineffectual, on both sides; but, on the second fire, Mr. Tuckett received his adversary's ball in the back part of the lower ribs, which traversed round to the spine. The ball was extracted, and Mr. Tuckett, after a time, recovered.

Subsequently, warrants were issued, and Lord Cardigan and his second were brought before the Bench of Surrey Magistrates, at Wandsworth; and after several examinations, Lord Cardigan was committed for trial on the charge of "Shooting at Capt. H. Tuckett with a pistol, with intent to murder, or do him some bodily harm"; and his second, for aiding and abetting him. The charge was laid under "An Act to amend the Laws relating to Offences against the Person" (1 Vic., c. 85, s. 3), which makes the offence set forth in the charge, a felony, punishable, at the discretion of the Court, with transportation beyond the seas, for the term of his, or her, natural life, or for any term not less than fifteen years, or to be imprisoned for any term not exceeding three years.

He was tried in the House of Lords, on 16 Feb., 1841, by his peers, and the case against him broke down through a technicality. His counsel, Sir William Follett, pointed out that the prosecution had failed in proving a material part of their case, inasmuch as no evidence had been given that Captain Harvey Garnett Phipps Tuckett was the person alleged to have been on Wimbledon Common on the 12th September last, and whose card only bore the name of Captain Harvey Tuckett. The peers present returned a verdict of "Not guilty," with the exception of the Duke of Cleveland, who added "Not guilty, legally."

The use of steam at sea was beginning to assert itself. It was only two years since, that I had to chronicle the voyages of the Sirius and the Great Western across the Atlantic—now we have the first steamship to India, sailing on 25 Sep. She was called The India, and was 1,200 tons and nearly 400 horse-power. She sailed for Calcutta, calling at the Cape of Good Hope, where she was to stop five days. It was expected that she would complete her voyage, including stoppages, within 75 days.

On 30 Sep. the foundation stone of the Nelson Column in Trafalgar Square was laid, without ceremony. It was a large block of Dartmoor granite, weighing 14 tons; and, on 16 Oct. the tenders for building the new Royal Exchange were settled. They varied very considerably, and the contract was given to the lowest, that of Messrs. Webb, of Clerkenwell, whose tender was 2,000 pounds under the architect's estimate.

About this time we begin to hear of Mormonism in England; not that it was absolutely new, for, on 20 July, 1837, Heber C. Kimball, Orson Hyde, Willard Richards, Joseph Fielding and others, landed at Liverpool, on the first mission sent out by the Mormons. Three days after landing they began preaching at Preston, and met with such remarkable success that, within the next eight months, at the expiration of which time, Kimball and Hyde returned to America, they had converted and baptised about 2,000 people. But the sect was uncommon, as we may see from the following extract from the Leeds Times, copied into the Times of 31 Oct.:

"A NEW SECT.—One of the most recent developments of fanaticism is the appearance of a new sect, in different parts of England, entitled Latter Day Saints. We believe that it made its first appearance in Hertfordshire and Leicestershire, from which counties great numbers of its members have lately emigrated to the United States. The sect has extended to Lancashire and Yorkshire; and, by the labours of its preachers, is now travelling northward into Durham and Northumberland. The Latter Day Saints assume to do many extraordinary things. Among other accomplishments peculiar to those who believe in the new doctrines, they are declared to possess the power of casting out devils, or curing the sick by laying hands on them, of resisting the operation of the deadliest poisons, of speaking with new tongues, and of working miracles of various kinds. They state that no ministers, now on earth, preach the Gospel, but themselves, and that, only to them have the supernatural gifts of the Church been vouchsafed. The Kingdom of God, they say, is only open to those who have been baptised by immersion. In addition to the Bible, they state they are in possession of another work, of equal authority, entitled The Book of Mormon, the original of which was found engraved on brass plates, in the central land of America. Finally, they consider this is the last generation of mankind, and that they have been sent into the world, expressly to prepare the way for the Son of Man!"

Has my reader forgotten THE BOY JONES? He turns up again in this chronicle, for, on Wednesday, the 2nd of December, the inmates of Buckingham Palace were, shortly after midnight, aroused by an alarm being given that a stranger had been discovered under the sofa in Her Majesty's dressing-room, and the officers of the household were quickly on the alert. It was soon ascertained that the alarm was not without foundation, and the daring intruder was immediately secured, and safely handed over to the tender mercies of the police. The report of the occurrence spread very rapidly, and created the most lively interest in London, as it was feared that the consequent alarm might be attended with the most dangerous effects to the health of the Queen, who had been confined only eleven days previously. Happily, neither mother, nor child suffered in any way.

The facts, as far as can be gathered—the examination being a private one, conducted by the Privy Council—seem to have been as follows: Shortly after midnight, one of Her Majesty's pages, accompanied by other domestics of the Royal household, was summoned into Her Majesty's dressing-room, which adjoined the bed chamber in which Her Majesty's accouchement had taken place, by Mrs. Lilly, the nurse, who thought she heard a noise. A strict search was made; and, under the sofa on which Her Majesty had been sitting, only about two hours' previously, they discovered a dirty, ill-looking fellow, who was immediately dragged from his hiding place, and given into custody. The prisoner was searched, but nothing of a dangerous nature was found upon him, and the police, at once, recognised their captive as the Edward Jones, who had, two years previously, entered the palace in such a mysterious way. He is described as being very short for his age, seventeen, and of a most repulsive appearance; but he was, apparently, unconscious of this defect, as he affected an air of great consequence, and repeatedly requested the police to address him in a becoming manner; also behaving with the greatest nonchalance at his examination before the Privy Council, the next day.

His first version of the matter was this: On Monday night, the 30th of November, he scaled the wall of Buckingham Palace, about half-way up Constitution Hill; he then proceeded to the Palace, and gained an entry through one of the windows. He had not, however, been long there, when he considered it unsafe for him to stay, as so many people were moving about; and he left by the same manner as he entered. The next day, Tuesday, about nine o'clock in the evening, he again effected an entrance by the same means as before. He then went on to state that he remained in the Palace the whole of Tuesday night, all Wednesday, and up to one o'clock on Thursday morning, when the inquisitive youth was captured. He was not satisfied with this dull and prosaic account of his entry; but, on the following day, he tried to invent something marvellous, and alleged that he ascended the roof of the Palace, and got down the chimney; but there were no marks of soot on his person, and his first story was, doubtless, the correct one.

The greatest mystery attending the affair was, how he could have found his way to the room adjoining that in which Her Majesty slept, without being observed. The delinquent stated that, during the day, he secreted himself under different beds, and in cupboards, until, at length, he gained an entrance into the dressing room; he, moreover, alleged that he sat upon the throne, that he saw the Queen, and heard the Princess Royal cry, but his story was such a romance, that no reliance could be placed upon it. He was extremely reticent as to the cause of his intrusion into the Palace, the only explanation which he vouchsafed, on being arrested, was, that he wanted to see what was going on in the Palace, that he might write about it, and, if discovered, he should be as well off as Oxford, who fared better in Bedlam, than he, Jones, did out of it. Even the stern discipline of the treadmill, to which he was promptly consigned, failed to extract anything more out of him; his only remark, when interrogated, being that he had got into the scrape, and must do the best he could.

His father stated that, in his belief, his unfortunate son was not of sound mind; but the medical evidence went to show that, though his head was of a most peculiar formation, he was not insane. The Council, therefore, came to the decision that it would be better to inflict summary punishment, and he was committed to the House of Correction for three months, as a rogue and vagabond.

If he is to be believed, he fared remarkably well whilst in his royal residence, as he said he helped himself to soup and other eatables from a room, which he called the "Cook's Kitchen," but no dependence whatever could be placed on his word.

Prince Albert was taking leave of Her Majesty for the night, when the miscreant was discovered; and the Prince, hearing a noise proceeding from the adjoining apartment, opened the door, and ascertained the cause; but it was not made known to the Queen till the following day, so as to prevent any undue alarm on her part.

It is needless to say that this event excited the greatest interest, and engrossed public attention, nothing else being talked of. The punishment was considered far too light to deter a repetition of the offence, which opinion was subsequently justified. Such an occurrence, of course, was considered fair material for the humourists of the day to exercise their wit upon, and there are many allusions to it in the Age and Satirist of the period; but, as their remarks are not always conceived in the best taste, they are better left in the obscurity in which they now dwell. Perhaps, however, this little couplet from the Satirist may be excepted:

"Now he in chains and in the prison garb is Mourning the crime that couples Jones with darbies." {151}

It was Jones's extraordinary powers of finding an entrance into the Palace that caused Samuel Rogers to declare that he must be a descendant of the illustrious In—-i—-go.

On the 15 Dec. the remains of the Emperor Napoleon, which had been removed from St. Helena, were laid, with great pomp, into the tomb prepared for them at the Invalides, Paris; and, contrary to all expectation, there was no disturbance on the occasion.


Death of Scott, "the American Diver"—Prince Albert's ducking—Monster cheese—"The Boy Jones"—"Tracts for the Times," Tract XC—Earl of Cardigan flogs a soldier on Sunday—Dispute as to the discovery of Electric Telegraph—Sale of Shakspere autograph—The Census—Astley's burnt—Behaviour of "gentlemen."

The first bit of gossip of this year was the tragic death of Sam Scott, "the American diver," who was born at Philadelphia, and, at an early age, entered the American navy. His extraordinary courage and prowess as a diver rendered him very popular, and, after quitting the naval service, he travelled about the Union exhibiting. He, subsequently, visited Canada, and made some tremendous leaps from the banks of the St. Lawrence, and the lakes which intersect that country; but his chef d'oeuvre was leaping from a precipice below the Falls of Niagara, where, according to his own statement, he jumped the amazing distance of 595 feet, into the water, which he accomplished without injury or inconvenience!

He was performing in England in 1838, and came to London in the latter part of 1840; and we now hear of him as issuing a "Challenge to the World for 100 Guineas! Monday next, Jan. 11, 1841, and during the week, Samuel Scott, the American diver, will run from Godfrey's White Lion, Drury Lane, to Waterloo Bridge, and leap into the water, forty feet high from the bridge, and return back within the hour, every day during the week, between one and two o'clock." There were about 8,000 or 10,000 people assembled to see the feat, which was to be performed from a scaffolding overhanging the river. Here he swung by a rope noose round his chin, and afterwards, with his head downwards and one of his feet in the noose. He then again hung suspended by his chin, but the noose slipped, and he was hanged in sight of all that huge crowd. This fatal accident created a great impression at the time.

I do not know the Evening paper from which the following "small beer" chronicle is copied into the Times of 12 Feb., but it purports to be an "authentic account" of an accident to Prince Albert: "It appears that His Royal Highness was walking in the Royal gardens, in company of Her Majesty, the only attendant present being the Hon. Miss Murray, one of the Maids of Honour in waiting upon the Queen. It not being understood by Col. Bouverie and Lieut. Seymour that His Royal Highness intended to skate, they were not, as usual, in attendance on the Prince, who had left the Palace, with Her Majesty, without their knowledge. After walking for a short time with the Queen, on the margin of the lake, His Royal Highness put on his skates, and left Her Majesty, who remained watching the movements of the Prince from the gardens. He had not been on the ice more than two or three minutes, when, as he was proceeding at a rapid rate towards the spot where the Queen was standing, and had reached between three or four feet of the water's edge, the ice suddenly broke, and, instantaneously he was immersed, head over ears, in the water. His Royal Highness immediately rose to the surface, when Her Majesty, with great presence of mind, joined her hand to that of the Hon. Miss Murray (telling her to stand firm, and to betray no fear), and, extending her right hand to the Prince, dragged him to the shore. Her Majesty manifested the greatest courage upon the occasion, and acted with the most intrepid coolness. As soon as the Prince was safe on dry land, the Queen gave way to the natural emotions of joy and thankfulness at his providential escape.

"The Prince then lost no time in proceeding to the Palace, where a warm bath was immediately prepared, and His Royal Highness, within an hour afterwards, was sufficiently well to receive the King of the Belgians, upon His Majesty's arrival from Claremont. The ice in the centre of the lake being nearly a foot in thickness, some surprise has been created that the accident should have occurred; but it appears that the keepers appointed to attend on the numerous and various aquatic birds which are preserved in the gardens of the palace, had broken the ice along the sides of the lake to enable them to take the water during the frost. These portions had again become slightly frozen over, since they were broken at an early part of the morning. This was unknown to the Prince, or the Queen, and, hence, the accident occurred. There was no person present, at the time, connected with the gardens, to point out his danger to His Royal Highness. Yesterday morning, the Prince was suffering from the effects of a slight cold; but, beyond this, His Royal Highness has sustained no inconvenience."

On the 10th Feb. the Princess Royal was christened.

On 19 Feb. the Queen had a monster cheese presented to her, "on which occasion, she was pleased to express her satisfaction." It was made from the morning's milking of 737 cows, prepared by the labour of 50 dairy women, at West Pennard, Somersetshire, and it weighed 11 cwt. It was octagon in shape, and its upper surface was decorated with the Royal Arms, surmounted with a wreath of roses, thistles and shamrocks. Unfortunately, although it had been made over two years, it was not considered to be fit to eat for another eighteen months.

Ecce iterum the irrepressible BOY JONES! Prison evidently had no terrors for him; for, no sooner was he liberated from Tothill Fields, on 2 Mar., than he, almost immediately, set to work to repeat his former escapades. On the day previous to his liberation, he was visited by Mr. Hall, a magistrate, who tried to persuade him to go to sea; but Jones made certain conditions which could not be acceded to, and he did not go. This gave an opportunity for the Satirist to come out with the following appropriate lines:

"The impudent urchin, whom sure the devil owns, And Government wants to send into the Navy; Will not go to sea—and 'tis cunning of Jones, Who, thus, may avoid his relation, Old Davey."

He was then delivered into the care of his parents, with strict injunctions to them to watch his actions; and, for some days, his conduct was unexceptionable; he frequently attended a Methodist chapel, and expressed his intention of joining a teetotal society. But the charms of notoriety were too strong for him; and, again, he was drawn, as it were by a magnet, to Buckingham Palace. Indeed, it possessed such attractions for him, that, when required to pledge himself, before leaving prison, not to visit the Palace again, he said he would not promise, as his curiosity was so great.

On 15 March, shortly after 1 a.m., the sergeant of police on duty at the Palace imagined, as he was going along the Grand Hall, that he saw someone peeping through the glass door, and this turned out to be the case; for, on his approach, Jones ran up against him, and was, of course, immediately secured. In consequence of his previous visits, two extra policemen had been appointed, whose duty it was, on alternate nights, to watch all the staircases and interior of the building, and it was owing to this arrangement that Master Jones was stopped early in his career, on this last occasion.

Like most boys, Jones had a keen appreciation of a feast, all the more enjoyable because irregularly come by; and, when he was arrested, he was found to have been sitting at his ease in one of the royal apartments, regaling himself with some cold meat and potatoes, which he had conveyed upstairs in his handkerchief. On being questioned how he obtained an entrance, his reply was, "the same way as before"; and he boasted, moreover, that he could, at any time he pleased, get into the palace; but he was extremely taciturn, and refused to satisfy curiosity, more particularly on this point.

What he confessed at his examination by the Privy Council is not known, as the proceedings were in private, reporters being excluded, and the public were left in possession of only the above bare facts. He persisted that the only motive for his intrusion was to hear the conversation at Court, and to write an account of it; but this plea of simplicity did not save him from a repetition of his old sentence of three months imprisonment in the House of Correction, with the uncomfortable addition, this time, of hard labour. Perhaps the best punishment for this juvenile addition of Paul Pry would have been that suggested by the Satirist, in the following paragraph: "As the urchin Jones, in a letter to his father, stated that his reason for entering the Queen's house was to 'seek for noose, in order to rite a book,' it is a matter of general regret that, instead of magnifying the affair into Home Office importance, the young rogue was not accommodated with a rope's end." His visit, however, necessitated the appointment of three additional sentries at the palace.

What became of him afterwards, nobody knows and nobody cares, but, one thing is certain, he was persuaded to go to sea, and Punch (born 17 July) devotes a page (vol. i., p. 46) to "The Boy Jones's Log," a portion of which is as follows:

"This mellancholly reflexion threw me into a poeticle fitte, and though I was werry uneasy in my stommik, and had nothing to rite on but my chest, I threw off as follows in a few 2nds, and arterards sung it to the well-none hair of 'Willy Reilly':—

"Oakum to me, {156} ye sailors bold, Wot plows upon the sea; To you I mean for to unfold My mournful historie. So pay attention to my song, And quick-el-ly shall appear, How innocently, all along, I was in-weigle-ed here.

"One night, returnin home to bed, I walk'd through Pim-li-co, And, twigging of the Palass, sed, 'I'm Jones and In-i-go.' But afore I could get out, my boys, Pollise-man 20A, He caught me by the corderoys, And lugged me right a-way.

"My cuss upon Lord Melbun, and On Jonny Russ-all-so, That forc'd me from my native land, Across the waves to go-o-oh! But all their spiteful arts is wain, My spirit down to keep; I hopes I'll soon git back again, To take another peep."

To follow Chronology compels me to turn suddenly from gay to grave topics. In September, 1833, Newman commenced the Tracts for the Times, which, according to its advertisement, had the object of "contributing something towards the practical revival of doctrines (such as the Apostolic Succession, and the Holy Catholic Church) which, although held by the great divines of our Church, have become practically obsolete with the majority of her members." Keble and others joined him at once, as did Pusey as soon as the state of his health permitted, together with nearly all the advanced thinkers at Oxford. These Tracts, issued from time to time, caused a mighty upheaval in the Church of England, which was known as the "Tractarian movement," the effects of which have lasted to this day, as may be witnessed in the vast extension of Church building, the larger attendance and more devout behaviour of congregations, the brighter and more ornate services, which are so great a contrast to the general sleepiness both of pastor and flock which then existed.

Some of these Tracts went farther than people were, as yet, able to follow, they were "strong meat for babes," and the publication of Tract XC., by Newman, on the Thirty-nine Articles, brought things to a climax, and on 15 March, the Vice-Chancellor and the Heads of Houses met to censure the publication; they came to the resolution: "That modes of interpretation, such as are suggested in the said Tract, evading rather than explaining the sense of the Thirty-nine Articles, and reconciling subscription to them, with the adoption of errors which they were designed to counteract, defeat the object, and are inconsistent with the due observance of the Statutes of the University." They only expressed their opinion which was all they could do, but Newman avowed the authorship of the Tract, and whilst he was still unconvinced of his error, he wrote, "I am sincerely sorry for the trouble and anxiety I have given to the members of the Board, and I beg to return my thanks to them, for an act which, even though founded on misapprehension, may be made as profitable to myself, as it is religiously and charitably intended."

At this time, neither the writers of the Tracts, nor their readers, had any intention of severing themselves from the Church of England, their sole endeavours were to wake it from the torpor into which it had fallen; and, had there been any tolerance on the other side, such men as Newman, Manning, and others, would have been kept to the Church, for they merely enunciated doctrine and practices which are now almost universal.

The old flint-lock Brown Bess was still in use in the Army, although percussion arms were introduced in 1840; but we read (13 Ap.) that "the exchange of flint for percussion cap guns to the Army, will cost, this year, 130,000 pounds."

That amiable gentleman, the Earl of Cardigan, was still making himself notorious. This time it was flogging a soldier on Easter Sunday, after Church; and the very first question asked in the House of Commons, when it met after the Easter recess, was by Mr. Hume, relating to it. Mr. Macauly replied that: "Whatever other imputations there might be cast on Lord Cardigan, a disposition for the infliction of corporal punishment was not one which could justly be thrown on him. From inquiries which he had made, he had found that, since 1839, up to the recent case, there was not an instance of the infliction of corporal punishment in this regiment. The charge, however, for which he was justly liable to public censure, was the immediate infliction of punishment, on a Sunday, after Divine Service. Such a proceeding was clearly contrary to the religious feelings and habits of the people of this country, and could not be reconciled with either good sense, or good feeling." Lord Hill, the Commander-in-Chief, only felt "surprised" at Lord Cardigan's conduct; but the Times of 24 Apl. had a most scathing leading article on the subject, winding up with "we trust some independent member of the House of Commons will take an early opportunity of cutting the Gordian knot, and move an address to the Crown for the removal of the Earl of Cardigan from the Lieut.-Colonelcy of the 11th Hussars." {159}

The Electric Telegraph being now a fait accompli, the honour of the discovery was disputed between Cooke and Wheatstone—both claiming it. It was settled by arbitration, the referees being Marc Isimbard Brunel, the eminent civil engineer, and Professor Daniell, the inventor of the Galvanic battery which bears his name, and their Solomonian judgment was as follows: "While Mr. Cooke is entitled to stand alone, as the gentleman to whom this country is indebted for having practically introduced and carried out the Electric Telegraph as a useful undertaking, promising to be a work of national importance; and Professor Wheatstone is acknowledged as the scientific man, whose profound and scientific researches had, already, prepared the public to receive it as a project capable of practical application; it is to the united labours of two gentlemen so well qualified for mutual assistance, that we must attribute the rapid progress which this important invention has made during the five years since they have been associated."

On 24 May was sold by auction an undoubtedly authentic signature of Shakspere, attached to a deed, thus described in the catalogue: "Shakspere's autograph affixed to a deed of bargain and sale of a house purchased by him, in Blackfriars, from Henry Walker, dated March 10, 1612, with the seals attached." The poet is described as "Wm. Shakspeare, of Stratforde upon Avon, in the countie of Warwick, gentleman"; and the premises thus: "All that dwelling house, or tenement, with the appurtenance, situate and being within the precinct, circuit and compasse of the late black ffryers, London, sometymes in the tenure of James Gardiner, Esqre., and since that time, in the tenure of John Ffortescue, gent, and now, or late being in the tenure or occupacon of one William Ireland, or of his assignee or assignees; abutting upon a streete leading down to Pudle Wharffe on the east part, right against the King's Majesties Wardrobe; part of wch said tenement is erected over a great gate leading to a capitall messuage, wch sometyme was in the tenure or occupacon of the Right Honourable Henry now Earle of Northumberland." The deed, at the commencement is stated to be "betweene Henry Walker, Citizen and Minstrell, of London, of thone partie, and William Shakspeare, of Stratforde upon Avon, in the countie of Warwick, gentleman; William Johnson, Citizen and Vintner, of London; John Jackson and John Hemyng, of London, of thother partie"; and that the property was absolutely sold to all four, "theire heires and assigns for ever." The deed is regularly entered in the Rolls' Court Sir F. Madden (continues the catalogue) states in his "Observations on the autograph of Shakspere," in Florio's translation of Montaigne's Essays, which was sold in 1838: "There are five acknowledged genuine signatures in existence, exclusive of the one which forms the subject of this communication. Of these, three are attached to his will in the Prerogative Court, executed the 25th March, 1615-16; the fourth is written on a mortgage deed, dated 11 March, 1612-13; of a small estate purchased by Shakspere, of Henry Walker, in Blackfriars; and the fifth, on the counterpart of the deed of bargain and sale of the said property, dated 10 March, 1612-13; and, speaking of the last, Sir F. Madden says, at p. 14: 'What has become of this document?' a query which the auctioneers say is answered. Of these six signatures, three to the will are in Doctors' Commons (two of them much injured by the hands of the lovers of Shakspere); the one in Montaigne's Essays is now in the British Museum; what has become of the mortgage deed is quite unknown: this, then, is the only autograph of Shakspere ever likely to be offered for sale." After many and very animated biddings it was eventually knocked down to Mr. Elkins for 165 pounds 15s. These two deeds are now in safe keeping, one being in the British Museum, the other belonging to the Corporation of the City of London. The authenticity of the signature in Montaigne's Essays is open to discussion. At the same sale was sold "the Shakspere Cup," made from the mulberry tree said to have been planted by Shakspere, carved on the sides with a medallion of Shakspere, and his Coat of Arms. This was for nearly 30 years in the possession of Munden, the actor, and it realised 21 pounds. In the British Museum is a beautifully-carved casket, made of the same wood, which, together with the freedom of Stratford-on-Avon, was given to Garrick by the Corporation of the town in 1769.

The decennial Census, which began in 1801, was, according to the Act 3 and 4 Vic., c. 29, taken of the number of individuals who slept in the respective houses in each parish, throughout England and Wales, on the night of Sunday, 6 June. Scotland, the Channel Islands, and the Isle of Man were also taken, but Ireland was not; and the following return includes only such part of the Army, Navy, and Merchant Seamen, as were, at the time of the Census, within the Kingdom on shore:

Males. Females. Total. England 7,321,875 7,673,633 14,995,508 Wales 447,533 463,788 911,321 Persons ascertained 4,003 893 4,896 to have been travelling by railroads and canals on night of 6 June Scotland 1,241,276 1,379,334 2,620,610 Islands in the 57,598 66,481 124,079 British Seas Total 18,656,414

On 8 June, Astley's Amphitheatre was burnt down, one life being sacrificed, and causing a monetary loss of over 30,000 pounds. This calamity so affected the proprietor, Mr. Ducrow, that he lost his reason, and died soon after, on 28 Jan., 1842.

Here is another little story of the behaviour of gentlemen in those days, copied from the Times, 11 June:

"WINDSOR, 10 June. Yesterday evening there was a large party consisting of the officers of the 60th Rifles, and several of the 1st Life Guards, at the mess of the infantry barracks, in Sheet Street, in consequence of several promotions which have recently taken place in the Rifles, occasioned by vacancies caused by the decease of the Hon. Col. Molyneux. The festivities of the evening were kept up till past 12 o'clock, when a large party sallied forth for 'a spree.' They first proceeded to the extensive canvas amphitheatre of Mr. Van Amburgh, in the Bachelor's Acre, but, there, they were, fortunately, kept at bay by several of Mr. Van Amburgh's men, before they had committed any excesses. The knockers, bell handles and brass plates from several doors in the neighbourhood were then wrenched off, and the whole party then made for a well-known gambling house (which has been tolerated in this town for upwards of twelve months), at No. 4, Augusta Place, where they were immediately admitted. What took place there before the row commenced, or what was the occasion of the havoc and destruction which almost immediately afterwards ensued, I have not been able to ascertain. However, they had not been there more than half an hour before there was a scene of the greatest confusion throughout the whole house, causing alarm and terror, from the noise which was created, around the entire neighbourhood. The police were sent for soon after 1 o'clock, previously to which a portion of the 60th Rifles, who were on guard at the Castle, had been despatched to the scene of action, and whom the police met on their return to the guard room. Upon the Superintendent, Sergeant and several policemen entering the house (which they found empty, with the exception of one of the gamblers, who, it appeared, had secreted himself) they found scarcely one piece of furniture left whole. The green baize was torn from the billiard and other tables, the doors of the different rooms broken down, the windows, with the sashes and frames, broken to pieces; all the lamps smashed, chairs and tables dislocated, the fanlight over the front door gone, and the balustrades upon the stairs torn away. At this time, the whole of the party had gone off; and, as for the proprietors of the gaming house, they were glad to effect their escape, across the garden, into a large piece of waste land, called the Lammas. It was expected that some complaint would have been lodged before the borough magistrates, to-day, at the Town Hall; but no application was made to the Bench on the subject during the hours of business. A large brass plate, which had been wrenched from a garden gate, was found, this morning, by the police, in the infantry barracks, where there are sundry knockers and bell handles awaiting to be identified and returned to their respective owners." {163}

The following incident is very little known, and is copied from the Salopian Journal of 3 July: "It is known to many of our readers that the Whig-Radical faction in Shrewsbury, despairing (as the event has proved) of winning the election by fair and honest means, have resorted to the infamous trick of publishing anonymous slanders against Mr. Disraeli, one of the Tory Candidates. He rebutted the slanders so promptly and effectually, that, at last, the opposite party resolved to try the desperate expedient of publishing them with a name attached, as a sort of guarantee. Accordingly, a letter, repeating these slanders, "with additions," appeared in the Shrewsbury Chronicle on Friday, signed by a barrister, who had been employed by the Radical candidates to manage their part of the contest. Mr. Disraeli, without any loss of time, issued a handbill commenting on conduct which appears to us at once ungentlemanly and unprofessional, and plainly designated the barrister's statements as 'utterly false.' This handbill appeared early in the forenoon of Friday, and, at an advanced hour of the afternoon, a gentleman waited upon Mr. Disraeli with a hostile message from his calumniator. He found Mr. Disraeli in company with his lady, and communicated that he had business of importance to settle with him. A challenge from the barrister was then handed to Mr. Disraeli. About an hour afterwards, Mr. Jonathan Sheppard having learnt that such a transaction had taken place—and it is certain that the information had not come from the challenged party—waited upon the Mayor, and, upon his information, our worthy Chief Magistrate called upon both parties to enter into recognizances to keep the peace. How far Mr. Disraeli would have been justified in meeting a person who had acted as the barrister had acted, is a question which need not be discussed here."


Story of an Irish informer—Steam Cars—Sale of Vauxhall Gardens—First Jewish Baronet—New Railways opened—High tide—Fire at the Tower—Birth of Prince of Wales—His patent as such—The Thames at length tunnelled—Antiquities found in Royal Exchange.

We have known something about Irish crime, but the following true tale takes a lot of beating. On the last day of the Clonmel Assizes, in July, Judge Torrens heard a case of arson, in which the prisoners, who were four in number, were all acquitted, after a trial which lasted eight hours.

The principal witness for the prosecution was an approver, named Lysaght; and, in all the annals of informers, it would be extremely difficult to find a parallel to this same Lysaght. Indeed, the admission by the Crown of the testimony of such a miscreant, in the matter of life or death, appears to be highly reprehensible, as the following abstract of his evidence will plainly evince:

John Lysaght examined: I remember the time when Walsh's house was burnt. Anthony Ryan came to me before the house was burned to borrow a gun. I brought it to him on a Monday night, and he told me to come with him to McCarthy's house, who wanted to see me. I went to McCarthy's, and near his place was an old house, in which some of our party were assembled. McCarthy brought some bread and spirits, and we took share of it. McCarthy asked me if I would go with the men to frighten Walsh, and burn the house. I promised to do so, and he then furnished us with powder and ball; we went down to the river side, and McCarthy gave his pistols and 7/6 in money to Anthony Ryan. He gave me some powder, flax, and something like saltpetre, and showed me, by putting some powder into the pan, and snapping it, how the flax was to be lighted. McCarthy then parted with us, and we, after eating the bread and meat, went to Walsh's. I lighted the tow, and Paddy Ryan put the fire into the roof. I and two of the party then went and stood sentry near the road. After a time, I heard a noise, and ran back to give an alarm. We then left, and went by Toom homewards, and separated near Marshall's gate; this was about three or four in the morning. I and Paddy Ryan had shot guns, Ned Ryan had a long one, Darby Ryan a bayonet on a pole, and the two Ryans had McCarthy's pistols. We left the house after it was in flames. I knew a man named Bryan Noonan; he is dead.

Judge Torrens: Was it you murdered Noonan?

Witness: No. I joined in it.

Mr. Hatchell: How many men did you murder before this?

Witness: None.

You say it was Anthony Ryan went to you to get the gun?—It was.

He has, since, been transported?—Yes.

You went with the party to the burning for the love of amusement?—They induced me to go with them, but did not force me; I was not very unwilling to go after getting the liquor; but, when I brought the gun, had no such intention.

Did you load the gun before you went out?—I did.

Had you liberty to carry a gun?—Yes, from a magistrate, Mr. Coates, who is since dead.

Were you ever tried before you committed the murder on Noonan?—Indeed I was; I was tried before, for posting a threatening notice, but it was no such thing.

Were you not sentenced to be transported?—I was.

Did you not fire shots at the same time?—Yes.

Judge Torrens: And the reward you gave the Government for bringing you back was murdering Noonan

Mr. Hatchell: Was not your brother Caravat tried?—Yes.

You say you were only present at the murder of Noonan; now, was it not you who knocked down the unfortunate man with the butt-end of a blunderbuss?—Yes, the very first. (Sensation.)

And you don't call that murdering the man?—We were all murdering him.

Were you not one of the men who carried him into the ditch to hide the body?—I was.

Where is your brother, the Caravat?—I don't know.

Was he at the burning of Walsh's house?—No.

Did you know Leonard, the smith?—I did.

Did you see him killed?—I saw him struck, but was not looking on at his killing.

Did you give him a blow then?—I did not strike a blow at the man.

Did you give a blow that day?—Yes, when myself was struck.

Do you remember Wat Hayes?—Yes.

You attacked him, but he shot you off?—No, he did not.

Was not one of your companions shot by Mr. Hayes?—No, but a man near me.

Now, tell me, did he not kill one of your friends?—Oh, he had a party against us, and waylaid us.

Did you remember Jemmy Hughes, who was killed with a hatchet?—I did.

Were you not looking at his murder?—Oh, no; he was married to my first cousin.

Were you not taxed with the murder?—The whole country knew who was in that affair.

You recollect David Hickey, who was killed at Bilboa?—I was in the fair.

You were of the party?—I was looking at him.

That was your third murder.

A Juror: His fifth murder.

Did you rob Michael Rogers?—No, but I got the course of law, and was acquitted.

You knew Mick Griffin, Lord Stradbroke's herd?—I heard he was shot.

Was your brother Caravat accused of this business?—No, I never heard of it.

Did you not say you would put a rope about McCarthy's neck?—I did not. I remember when Kennedy was put out of possession. McCarthy's cattle and premises were burned after this, but the country say it was himself did it. I never asked a farm of Lord Stradbroke, but my father or brothers might. I never heard that McCarthy prevented us getting the farm, on the ground of our being so bad.

Do you remember you and your uncle carrying away a woman?—I do.

Your uncle was transported?—He was.

So you have been guilty of one abduction, five murders, and one burning; what else did you do? Would you suggest any other crime in the catalogue, of which you were not guilty?

Judge Torrens: Did you commit a rape?—No.

Mr. Hatchell: Were any of your brothers convicted of a rape?—Yes.

Were you not charged with holding the unfortunate woman while your brother committed the rape?—No, but another brother was.

Judge Torrens: Did you steal cattle?—No.

Mr. Hatchell: That would be too shabby an offence. When you came to Walsh's house, you lifted one of the Ryans up in the roof?—Yes.

And you lit the fire?—I did.

Did you know there were women in the house?—I partly guessed there were.

Did you mind how many innocent people might have been burned?—I did not care. (Great sensation.)

Judge and Counsel, with great disgust, ordered the wretch off the table.

In these days of Motor Cars, any gossip about their progenitors must be of interest. On 7 Aug., a steam carriage, carrying 16 persons, belonging to the General Steam Company, was tried between the York and Albany, Regent's Park, and the Manor House at Tottenham—i.e., along the Camden Road to Finsbury Park—doing the distance in rather less than half-an-hour. Another ran on 13 Sep. from Deptford to Sevenoaks, about 21 miles, in 2 hours 37 minutes, but there were small accidents by the way. Later on in the month the first-named carriage performed about Windsor, Frogmore and Dachet, and frequently reached a speed of 18 to 20 miles an hour; and on Oct. 1 it was shown to the Queen and Prince Albert, the latter expressing himself highly pleased with it. It then only did 16 miles an hour.

On 9 Sep. Vauxhall Gardens, which had been a place of amusement since the time of Charles I., were sold for 20,000 pounds. In Punch of 14 Aug. we find a sad account of a last visit:

"Impelled by a sense of duty, we wended our way to the 'Royal property,' {169a} to take a last look at the long expiring gardens. It was a wet night—the lamps burnt dimly—the military band played in the minor key—the waiters stalked about with so silent, melancholy a tread, that we took their towels for pocket handkerchiefs; the concert in the open rain went off tamely—dirge-like, in spite of the 'Siege of Acre,' which was described in a set of quadrilles, embellished with blue fire and maroons, and adorned with a dozen double drums, thumped at intervals, like death notes, in various parts of the doomed gardens. The divertissement was anything but diverting, when we reflected upon the impending fate of the 'Rotunda,' in which it was performed.

"No such damp was, however, thrown over the evolutions of 'Ducrow's beautiful horses and equestrian artistes,' including the 'new grand entree and calvacade of Amazons.' They had no sympathy with the decline and fall of the Simpsonian {169b} empire. They were strangers, interlopers, called in, like mutes and feathers, to grace the 'funeral show,' to give a more graceful flourish to the final exit. The horses pawed the sawdust, evidently unconscious that the earth it covered would soon be 'let on lease for building ground'; the riders seemed in the hey-day of their equestrian triumph. Let them, however, derive from the fate of Vauxhall a deep, a fearful lesson!—though we shudder as we write, it shall not be said that destruction came upon them unawares—that no warning voice had been raised—that even the squeak of Punch was silent! Let them not sneer, and call us superstitious—we do not give credence to supernatural agency as a fixed and general principle; but we did believe in Simpson, and stake our professional reputation upon Widdicomb! {170a}

"That Vauxhall Gardens were under the special protection of, that they drew the very breath of their attractiveness from, the ceremonial Simpson, who can deny? When he flitted from walk to walk, from box to box, and welcomed everybody to the 'Royal property,' right royally did things go on! Who would then have dreamt that the illustrious George {170b}—he of the Piazza—would ever be 'honoured with instructions to sell'? that his eulogistic pen would be employed in giving the puff superlative to the Elysian haunts of quondam fashion—in other words—painting the lily-gilding refined gold? But, alas! Simpson, the tutelar deity, departed ('died,' some say, but we don't believe it), and, at the moment he made his last bow, Vauxhall ought to have been closed; it was madness—the madness which will call us, peradventure, superstitious—which kept the gates open when Simpson's career closed—it was an anomaly, for, like Love and Heaven, Simpson was Vauxhall, and Vauxhall was Simpson!

"Let Ducrow reflect upon these things—we dare not speak out—but a tutelar being watches over, and giveth vitality to his arena—his ring is, he may rely upon it, a fairy one—while that mysterious being dances and prances in it, all will go well; his horses will not stumble, never will his clowns forget a syllable of their antiquated jokes. Oh! let him, then, whilst seriously reflecting upon Simpson and the fate of Vauxhall, give good heed unto the Methuselah, who hath already passed his second centenary in the circle!

"These were our awful reflections while viewing the scenes in the circle, very properly constructed in the Rotunda. They overpowered us—we dared not stay to see the fireworks, 'in the midst of which Signora Rossini was to make her terrific ascent and descent on a rope three hundred feet high.' She might have been the sprite of Madame Saqui; {171} in fact, the 'Vauxhall Papers,' published in the gardens, put forth a legend which favours such a dreadful supposition. We refer our readers to them—they are only sixpence apiece.

"Of course, the gardens were full, in spite of the weather; for what must be the callousness of that man who could let the Gardens pass under the hammer of George Robins, without bidding them an affectionate farewell? Good gracious! we can hardly believe such insensibility does exist. Hasten then, dear readers, as you would fly to catch the expiring sigh of a fine old boon companion—hasten to take your parting slice of ham, your last bowl of arrack—even now, while the great auctioneer says 'going.'"

On 24 August Sir J. L. Goldsmid was made a Baronet, and was the first Jewish gentleman who ever received that title. Perhaps it is not generally known that an honour, not much inferior, had, once, very nearly fallen to the lot of a brother Israelite. At one of those festive meetings at Carlton House, in which George IV. sometimes allowed a few of his most favoured subjects to participate, Mr. Braham was introduced to sing his then newly-composed song, "A Bumper of Burgundy," when the gratified monarch, rising from his chair, was, with difficulty, restrained from conferring immediate knighthood on the flattered musician.

* * * * *

Three well-known railways were opened this year; the Great Western, from London to Bristol, on 30 June; the London and Blackwall, on 2 Aug.; and the London and Brighton, on 21 Sep.

On 18 Oct. was a remarkably high tide in the Thames, which did an immense amount of damage. This, and another event were celebrated in a contemporary ballad, beginning:

"There's lately been a great high tide, Nor can it be surprising, When everything is getting dear, That water should be rising,"

and after dealing with that event in a very witty manner, it went on:

"The Tower of London, envying Father Thames's notoriety, Resolved to have a 'flare up' And be talked of in society; Ten thousand guns were fired at once, With very few escapers, But, though no one heard the great report, There was one in the papers."

This terrible conflagration was first noticed about half-past ten, on the night of 31 Oct., by a sentinel on duty on the terrace near the Jewel Office, whose attention was attracted to a glimmering light under the cupola of the Round, or Bowyer Tower—which was close to the Armoury, in which was deposited an immense amount of stores, such as muskets, etc., and many priceless trophies of war. When the sentinel found the light increased, he gave the alarm by firing his musket, and the whole of the garrison, officers and men, turned out; but the fire had got so great a hold that, before a sufficient supply of water could be obtained, the entire roof of the Armoury was in flames.

Unfortunately, it was low tide in the Thames, and, although the fire-engines soon arrived, and there were the Garrison and 250 policemen to render assistance, the flames spread rapidly; so fast, indeed, that the only things then got out and saved, were the Duke of York's sword and belt, and a beautiful Maltese gun.

The grand staircase of this Armoury was considered one of the finest in Europe, and the following is a contemporary description of it. "In a recess on the landing was a platform supported on eight brass six-pounder guns, taken at Waterloo, and which served as pillars. On this was a splendid trophy, consisting of arms and weapons, ancient and modern, comprising nearly 200 varieties, and nearly all differing in form or pattern. In the centre was a marble bust of William IV. Upon the walls, at the sides, were two large stars, formed of swords, and their brass scabbards, bayonets and pistols, one representing the Star of the Garter, and the other of the Bath. Also two figures in gilt suits of armour on ornamented pedestals. The rails of the stairs and the cornice of the ceiling were ornamented with architectural figures, curiously formed with arms. Below, upon pedestals, were two very striking groups, one representing a knight in gilt armour, preparing for action, attended by his esquire, who was in the act of buckling on his spurs, and a pikeman, with his 18 feet pike. The other group was a knight in a handsome suit of bright armour, of the time of Elizabeth, in action, having seized a banner from the enemy, waving his followers on. On each side of the entrance door was a knight in a suit of gilt armour, and two others, similarly clad, stood on brackets. The whole of these were destroyed, with the exception of the Waterloo cannon."

The fire was soon perilously near to the Jewel Office, which was scorching hot—yet Mr. Swifte, the keeper of the jewels, saved the whole of the Regalia, down to the minutest article, and was earnestly begged to retire and leave the last thing, a huge silver wine fountain, to its fate, but he would not, and this, also, was salved.

"Then Mr. Swifte was nothing slow The Crown and Jewels saving; And to get the great Wine Cooler out, Great danger he was braving. Now, Mr. Swifte, of all the wine, Should now be made the ruler, For while the fire was getting hotter, He was getting the Wine Cooler."

There was an awful scare as to the chance of the store of gunpowder catching alight—but 400 barrels of powder, and 200 boxes of grenades and ball cartridges, were removed to the magazine, and the remainder was thrown into the moat.

On the 8th Dec. the general public were allowed to inspect the ruins, and to purchase mementos of the fire; the prices were, 6d. for half-a-dozen gun-flints, and the same amount for a few burnt percussion caps; pieces of fused iron and arms went at prices varying from 1s. to 20s., the latter, the maximum price. For many years I had a fused cavalry pistol, and some calcined flints which were very pretty. The fused cannon were sold as old metal.

On the 9 Nov. His Majesty Edward VII. was born, and, on the 8th Dec. was created Prince of Wales. His patent is as follows:

"Victoria, by the grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Queen, Defender of the Faith.

"To all Archbishops, Dukes, Earls, Viscounts, Bishops, Barons, Baronets, Knights, Justices, Provosts, Ministers, and all other our faithful subjects, greeting—

"Know ye, that we have made and created, and by these our letters patent, do make and create, our most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland (Duke of Saxony, Duke of Cornwall and Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, Baron Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, and Great Steward of Scotland), Prince of Wales and Earl of Chester; and to the same, our most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, have given and granted, and by this our present Charter do give, grant and confirm, the name, style, title, dignity and honour of the same Principality and Earldom, and him, our said most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, as has been accustomed, we do ennoble and invest with the said Principality and Earldom, by girting him with a sword, by putting a coronet on his head, and a gold ring on his finger, and, also, by delivering a gold rod into his hand, that he may preside there, and may direct and defend those parts. To hold to him and his Heirs, Kings of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, for ever, wherefore we will, and strictly command for us, our heirs, and successors, that our said most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, may have the name, style, title, state, dignity, and honour of the Principality of Wales, and Earldom of Chester aforesaid, unto him and his heirs, Kings of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, as is above mentioned.

"In witness whereof, we have caused these, our letters, to be made patent. Witness ourself at Westminster, this 8th day of December, 1841.

By the QUEEN herself. "Edmunds."

We read in the Times of 25 Nov., anent the Thames Tunnel, that "a thoroughfare was, yesterday, effected in this work, and made use of, for the first time, by the whole of the directors, and some of the original subscribers, who had assembled upon the occasion. The shield having been advanced to the shaft at Wapping, a considerable opening was cut in the brickwork, and it was through this the party, who had met at Rotherhithe, were enabled to pass, thus opening the first subterranean communication between the opposite shores of the river. Upon their arrival at the shaft, the party was greeted by the workmen with most hearty cheers. A curious and interesting incident was connected with the event; a few bottles of wine, preserved since the dinner given on the occasion when the foundation stone was laid, with the understanding that it was to be drunk only when it could be carried under the Thames, having been opened and enjoyed by the company, to the health of Her Majesty and the infant Prince. It was remarked, too, as a singular coincidence, that a seal on one of the corks bore the impress of the Prince of Wales's feathers, a circumstance that caused some merriment. The engineer, Sir I. Brunel, appeared highly gratified at the happy result of his past anxiety and arduous labour. The shield will continue its advance, until it has afforded space for the formation of the remainder of the tunnel, which is expected to be completed in about three weeks."

By the end of the year the foundations of the New Royal Exchange were dug out and concreted, and, as it was always anticipated that some important discoveries might take place in the course of the excavation, proper arrangements were made on the commencement of the work, that any articles of interest which might be disinterred, should be secured for the Gresham Committee. In the Specification for the Works, issued in 1840, the Contractor and Excavator were required, in taking out the soil, to deliver up "any plate, coins, antiquities, or curiosities, whether in metal, or otherwise, or any carved stones, or carvings in marble, pottery, terra cotta, or tesserae, which may be found in the course of the excavations; it being understood that all such matters, or things, are to be taken up with all requisite care, and are to remain the property of the Gresham Committee."

They found a portion of a Roman building, but the greatest haul was in an old gravel pit, some 50ft. by 34, filled with hardened mud, in which were contained considerable quantities of animal and vegetable remains, apparently the discarded refuse of the inhabitants of the vicinity. In the same depository were also found very numerous fragments of the red Roman pottery, usually called "Samian Ware," pieces of glass vessels, broken terra-cotta lamps, parts of amphorae, mortaria, and other articles made of earth, and all the rubbish which might naturally become accumulated in a pond in the course of years. In this mass likewise occurred a number of Imperial Roman coins, several bronze and iron styles, parts of writing tablets, a bather's strigil, a large quantity of caliga soles, sandals and remains of leather, all of which can now be seen in the highly interesting Museum of the Corporation of the City of London, at the Guildhall.


Foundation of Royal Exchange laid—Medal connected therewith—Father Mathew's miracle—Christening of the Prince of Wales—King Edward VII.—Hard work of the King of Prussia—The Earthquake in London—The Queen drinking "grog"—Photography-Talbotype—Sale at Strawberry Hill—Presents to the King of Prussia.

The first event of note in this year was the laying, by Prince Albert, of the foundation stone of the Royal Exchange, on 17 Jan., with all the pomp at the command of the City authorities. The usual coins, etc., were deposited in a cavity, together with a Latin inscription, engraved on zinc, of which the following is a translation: "Sir Thomas Gresham, Knight, erected, at his own charge, a building and colonnade for the convenience of those persons who, in this renowned Mart, might carry on the commerce of the World, adding thereto, for the relief of indigence, and for the advancement of literature and science, an Almshouse and College of Lecturers, the City of London aiding him, Queen Elizabeth favouring the design; and, when the work was complete, opening it in person with a solemn procession. Having been reduced to ashes with almost the entire city, by a calamitous and wide spreading conflagration, they were rebuilt in a more splendid form by the City of London and the Ancient Company of Mercers, King Charles II. commencing the building on 23 Oct., A.D. 1667; and, when they had been again destroyed by fire, on the 10th Jan., AD. 1838, the same Bodies, undertaking the work, determined to restore them at their own cost, on an enlarged and more ornamental plan; the munificence of Parliament providing the means of extending the site, and of widening the approaches and crooked streets, in every direction; in order that there might, at length, arise, under the auspices of Queen Victoria, built a third time from the ground, an Exchange, worthy of this great Nation and City, and suited to the vastness of a Commerce extending to the circumference of the habitable Globe. His Royal Highness of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Consort of Her Sacred Majesty, laid the first stone on 17 Jan., 1842, in the Mayoralty of the Rt. Hon. John Pirie. Architect, William Tite, F.R.S. May God, our Preserver, ward off destruction from this building, and from the whole City."

After the manner of the City of London, a medal was struck to commemorate the event, having on the obverse a profile portrait of Prince Albert, with the legend "Albertus ubique honoratus," the reverse having a view of the western portico of the Exchange. On 13 Jan. Mr. Roach Smith exhibited at the Society of Antiquaries a medalet, found on the site of the Exchange, evidently struck to commemorate Queen Elizabeth's patronage of the original building, as it bore the Tudor Arms surrounded with the inscription "Anglioe Regina ubique honorata."

Father Mathew was still doing his grand work in Ireland, but there is a story told about him in the Limerick Chronicle, copied into the Times of 17 Jan., that is too good to be omitted: "The Rev. Mr. Mathew arrived in this city, last evening, by the Cork mail, en route to Loughrea, and put up at Moore's hotel. Immediately after his arrival became known, hundreds of persons visited him at the hotel, where he administered the pledge. One circumstance which came within public observation, we may mention here, as illustrative of the effects of breaking the temperance pledge:—A man, named Moynehan, a teetotaller, who worked at the Butter Weigh-house, got drunk on Christmas Eve, and the next day, became paralysed, his left arm, side and thigh being perfectly inanimate. He was removed to Barrington's Hospital, and remained there under the care of the surgeons, without improvement, until last evening, when his friends, having heard of Father Mathew's arrival in town, went to the hospital, and brought him out of his bed, on a man's back, to where the Rev. Mr. Mathew was staying; a crowd had collected round the door, when the unhappy invalid was carried into his presence, and the reverend gentleman administered to him the pledge again, in a kind and impressive manner, and the man instantly stood up, was assisted by his friends to dress; and, to the astonishment of all, walked up William Street to his home, followed by a crowd of people."

On 25 Jan., the Prince of Wales was christened in St. George's Chapel, Windsor, by the name of Albert Edward, and on 20 Jan. appeared a letter in the Times from "A Conservative":

"Sir.—We learn from the Times of to-day, that the Prince will be called Albert Edward.

"It is natural, indeed, that the illustrious father, and still more, that the illustrious mother, should prefer Albert Edward to Edward Albert.

"But as I pray God that the boy may live to be King, to whatever period his mother's life may be graciously extended, so I trust that he may have every qualification for popularity as well as goodness, and, amongst others, an old, and beloved, and accustomed English name.

"And what so fit as Edward? Who more beloved, or glorious, than Edward the Confessor—Edward I.—Edward III.—Edward VI.? A Catholic Saint—a law-giver—a conqueror—a Protestant Reformer?

"The Princess Alexandrina Victoria was known by her second name before she ascended the throne. So, I trust, may the young Prince be known as Edward, Prince of Wales, to the people, hereafter, Edward VII."

We all know how this gentleman's aspirations have been verified.

The King of Prussia was one of the Sponsors, and spent a few days after the christening in England. Poor man! how they did make him work!

On the 26th he had to be at the presentation of new colours to the 72nd Highlanders, and, in the afternoon, he visited Eton College.

27th.—Came to London by railway, and held a Court at Buckingham Palace, where he received the Corps Diplomatique and the Corporation of the City of London. On his return to Windsor, he visited Hampton Court.

28th.—Again came to London, visited the Zoological Gardens, lunched with Sir Robert Peel, and, afterwards, went to the Chapel Royal, Whitehall, and the National Gallery—dining at Windsor.

29th.—Saw a review in the Home Park, then went to London, and dined with his Minister, Chevalier Bunsen, in Carlton Terrace.

The 30th was Sunday, so the poor man was trotted off to St. Paul's Cathedral to hear the Bishop of London preach. Lunched at the Mansion House, visited the King of Hanover's apartments in St. James's Palace, and Stafford House; attended afternoon service at the Royal German Chapel, St. James's; visited the Duchess of Gloucester, in Piccadilly, and returned to Windsor.

After this rest on the 30th, he visited Newgate Prison, when he was received by the Lady Mayoress, Mrs. Fry, the Quaker philanthropist, the Sheriffs, etc., and thence proceeded to lunch with Mrs. Fry, at Upton, near Barking; at six he went to Drury Lane Theatre, and saw The Two Gentlemen of Verona; dined with the Duke of Sutherland at Stafford House, and slept at Buckingham Palace.

Next day, 1 Feb., at 10 a.m., he visited the Royal Society, Society of Antiquaries and the Geological Society. Thence he went to the British Museum, taking Mr. Solly's collection of pictures en route; and after spending three hours at the Museum, he lunched with the Duke of Sussex at Kensington Palace. In the evening, he underwent a dinner and concert given by the Duke of Wellington at Apsley House.

Early in the morning of the 2nd, he sat to Mr. Hayter for his portrait in a picture of the Christening. At 8.30 he embarked at Hungerford Wharf, on a steamer, bound for the Thames Tunnel; after visiting which, he went to the Tower of London. At 12 he returned to Buckingham Palace, where he received addresses from the Bishop and Clergy of the Diocese of London; the members of King's College, London; the Society for Promoting Christianity among the Jews; the Prussian subjects resident in London; and the German Lutheran clergy. He also received deputations from the Bible Society, the Church Missionary Society, the Imperial Continental Gas Company; and gave audience to the Prince of Capua, etc.; visited the Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth; dined with the Duke of Cambridge; saw the Merry Wives of Windsor played at Covent Garden, and afterwards attended an evening, party at Cambridge House.

On the 3rd he was present at the Queen's Opening of Parliament, then received a deputation from the general body of Protestant Dissenters; and visited the Queen Dowager, Earl of Jersey, the Dowager Duchess of Richmond, the Duke of Cambridge and the Duke of Wellington; winding up with dining with the Queen.

On the 4th they let him go—he paid a visit to the Queen at 9.30, went to Woolwich and saw a review of Royal Artillery, lunched there, visited Plumstead Marshes and the Arsenal, took leave of Prince Albert, and everyone else, and went off to Ostend.

About this time was a curious craze, which took strange hold on the people, that London was to be destroyed on the 16th of March, a belief which seems to have been founded on two metrical prophecies, dated respectively A.D. 1203 and 1598, said to be in the British Museum, where, however, I have failed to find them; the former is:

"In eighteen hundred and forty-two Four things the sun shall view; London's rich and famous town Hungry earth shall swallow down; Storm and rain in France shall be, Till every river runs a sea; Spain shall be rent in twain, And famine waste the land again; So say I, the Monk of Dree, In the twelve hundredth year and three."

The other is fathered on the famous astrologer, Dr. Dee:

"The Lord have mercy on you all, Prepare yourselves for dreadful fall Of house and land and human soul— The measure of your sin is full.

"In the year One, Eight, and Forty-two, Of the year that is so new, In the third month, of that sixteen, It may be a day or two between.

"Perhaps you'll soon be stiff and cold, Dear Christian, be not stout and bold; The mighty Kingly proud will see This comes to pass, as my name's Dee."

And people were found to believe in this doggerel—especially frightened were the Irish in London, and the lower classes generally. There was a great exodus of the former, some even listening to the entreaties of their friends, and returning to Ireland, and many of the latter moved eastward of the church of St. Dunstan's, Stepney, which they considered would be the last edifice to fall. Nor was belief in the earthquake confined to the east end of London, for I read of a man, formerly a police constable, living in Paddington, St. Marylebone, who sold a good business to provide the means of his leaving London; and of a clerk, with a salary of 200 pounds a year, residing in the same parish, resigning his post, so that he might escape the calamity.

The fateful day arrived and passed, and, of course, the dreaded event did not take place, but the belief in it is evidenced in a paragraph in the Times of 17 March:

"THE EARTHQUAKE.—The scene witnessed in the neighbourhoods of St. Giles's and Seven Dials during the whole of yesterday was, perhaps, the most singular that has presented itself for many years. Many of the Irish resident in those localities have left for the shores of the Emerald Isle, but by far the larger number, unblessed with this world's goods, have been compelled to remain where they are, and to anticipate the fearful event which was to engulf them in the bowels of the earth. The frantic cries, the incessant appeals to Heaven for deliverance, the invocations to the Virgin and the Saints for mediation, the heartrending supplications for assistance, heard on every side during the day, sufficiently evidenced the power with which this popular delusion had seized the mind of these superstitious people. Towards the end of the day, a large number of them determined not to remain in London during the night, and, with what few things they possessed, took their departure for what they considered more favoured spots. Some violent contests arose between the believers and the sceptics—contests, which in not a few cases, were productive of serious results.

"The poor Irish, however, are not the only persons who have been credulous in this matter; many persons from whom better things might have been expected, were amongst the number who left London to avoid the threatened catastrophe. To the Gravesend steamboat companies the 'earthquake' proved a source of immense gain; and the same may be said with regard to the different railways. Long before the hour appointed for the starting of steamboats from London Bridge Wharf, Hungerford Market, and other places, the shore was thronged by crowds of decently attired people of both sexes; and, in many instances, whole families were to be seen with an amount of eatables and drinkables which would have led one to suppose that they were going a six-weeks' voyage. About 11 o'clock, the Planet came alongside the London Bridge Wharf, and the rush to get on board of her was tremendous, and, in a few minutes, there was scarcely standing room on board. The trains on the various railways were, during the whole of Tuesday and yesterday morning, unusually busy in conveying passengers without the proscribed limits of the Metropolitan disaster. To those who had not the means of taking trips to Gravesend, or by railway, other places which were supposed to be exempted from the influence of the 'rude commotion' about to take place, were resorted to. From an early hour in the morning, the humbler classes from the east end of the Metropolis sought refuge in the fields beyond the purlieus of Stepney. On the north, Hampstead and Highgate were favoured with a visit from large bodies of the respectable inhabitants of St. Giles's; and Primrose Hill, also, was selected as a famous spot for viewing the demolition of the leviathan city. The darkness of the day, and the thickness of the atmosphere, however, prevented it being seen."

Brighton, too, felt the advantage of the "earthquake," as numbers of families of the middle and upper classes went there to avoid its consequences. It was noted that on the night of the 15th nearly 20 carriages arrived there, a circumstance that had not occurred since the opening of the London and Brighton Railway.

* * * * *

To "talk scandal about Queen Elizabeth" is a matter serious enough, but to say that Queen Victoria drank grog on board one of her own ships is rank treason, and must be explained, as it was by the John Bull. "The true version of Her Majesty's tasting the grog on board of The Queen, during her late visit to Portsmouth, is as follows: Strict orders had been given to the men, that when Her Majesty came down to the lower deck, to see them at mess, they should not speak a word, but preserve as profound a silence as possible. Jack, of course, was too much taken up with watching the Royal visitor, to think of talking, save, perhaps, the desire of whispering to his messmate a comment or so on the meteor passing before him. All was still. Her Majesty tasted the cocoa, and approved of it—yet all was still. Her Majesty then inquired whether there was no stronger beverage allowed the men, and forthwith a tumbler of 'three-water grog' was handed her. She raised it to her lips—when Jack forgot his orders, and three distinct cheers ran round the deck, with such 'a will,' that the ship's sides seemed to start with the sudden explosion; the honour done was more than a sailor could bear without clearing his heart with an huzzah."

It was on 8 Feb., 1841, that Fox Talbot provisionally registered his patent "for improvements in obtaining pictures, or representations of objects," which is now in vogue, his improvement being the printing of the photo on paper. He, himself, made no public practical use of his invention, and one of the first, if not the first photographer who adopted it was Mr. Beard, of Parliament and King William Streets. It was quite a new thing when Prince Albert went to his studio on 21 Mar., 1842, and sat for his portrait. This made the process fashionable, and henceforth photography was a practical success.

There is nothing much to gossip about, until the Strawberry Hill sale. It was all very well for the Earl of Bath to eulogise the place,

"Some cry up Gunnersbury, For Sion some declare, And some say that with Chiswick House No villa can compare; But, ask the beaux of Middlesex, Who know the country well, If Strawberry Hill, if Strawberry Hill Don't bear away the bell."

but I fancy no one can endorse the opinion, or see anything to admire in this heterogeneous pile of Carpenter's and Churchwarden's Gothic. If it had applied to the contents that would have been another thing; for, although there was, as is the case in most large collections, an amount of rubbish, it was counterbalanced by the undoubted rarity of the greater portion, which are thus set forth by the perfervid auctioneer, George Robins, who, speaking of himself in the third person, says:

"When there pass before him, in review, the splendid gallery of paintings, teeming with the finest works of the greatest masters—matchless Enamels, of immortal bloom, by Petitot, Boit, Bordier, and Zincke; Chasings, the work of Cellini and Jean de Bologna; noble specimens of Faenza Ware, from the pencils of Robbia and Bernard Palizzi; Glass, of the rarest hues and tints, executed by Jean Cousin and other masters of the 15th, 16th and 17th centuries; Limoges enamels of the period of the Renaissance, by Leonard and Courtoise; Roman and Greek antiquities in bronze and sculpture; Oriental and European china, of the choicest forms and colours; exquisite and matchless Missals, painted by Raphael and Julio Clovo; magnificent specimens of Cinque-Cento Armour; Miniatures, illustrative of the most interesting periods of history; a valuable collection of Drawings and Manuscripts; Engravings in countless numbers, and of infinite value; a costly Library, extending to fifteen thousand volumes, abounding in splendid editions of the Classics, illustrated, scarce and unique works, with ten thousand other relics of the arts and history of bygone ages, he may well feel overpowered at the evident impossibility of rendering to each that lengthened notice which their merits and their value demand."

The first private view took place on 28 March, and the sale lasted 24 days, commencing on 25 April and ending 21 May. No one can hazard a guess as to what such a collection would fetch now, the sum then obtained, 33,450 pounds 11s. 9d., being utterly inadequate according to modern ideas. The sale took place in a temporary shed, erected in the grounds, and on the first day of the sale, which was confined to books, there were not 200 persons present, and among them, not more than a dozen bidders.

* * * * *

By way of recognition to the King of Prussia for his being sponsor of the Prince of Wales, the Queen sent him some presents, which, if the Wurtzburg Gazette is to be credited, were of somewhat mixed description. 1.—A cradle with the figure of nurse holding an infant, representing the Prince of Wales, in her arms, all of pure gold. 2.—A pistol, which, when the trigger is pulled, opens and exhibits a completely furnished dressing-case. 3.—A gold mosaic snuff-box, upon which are seen allegorical souvenirs relating to the baptism of the Prince of Wales. 4.—Four boxes containing snuff. 5.—A dozen knives and forks of gold, except the blades of the knives, which are of Damascus steel, and the handles ornamented with a crown set in brilliants. 6.—A stone vase, containing the rarest Indian fruits. 7.—Two extraordinarily large legs of mutton.


The Royal "Bal Costume"—The Queen shot at by Francis and by Bean—Duke of Cambridge's star—Chartism—Income Tax—Female Chartist Association—A gipsey trial—Closing of the Fleet prison—Married in a sheet—Enormous damages in a gambling case.

There was a great flutter of excitement over the Queen's Fancy Dress Ball, which took place in the Throne Room of Buckingham Palace on 12th May. Its leading feature was the assembling and meeting of the two Courts of Anne of Bretagne (the Duchess of Cambridge) and Edward III. and Queen Phillipa (The Queen and Prince Albert).

A separate entrance to the Palace was set apart for the Court of Brittany, the Duchess of Cambridge assembling her Court in one of the lower rooms of the Palace, while the Queen and Prince Albert, surrounded by a numerous and brilliant circle, prepared to receive her Royal Highness in the Throne Room, which was altered so far, as to be made as much as possible to harmonise with the period. The throne was removed and another erected, copied from an authentic source, of the time of Edward III. It was lined (as well as the whole alcove in which it was placed) with purple velvet, having worked on it, in gold, the Crown of England, the Cross of St. George, and emblazoned shields with the Arms of England and France. The state chairs were as near those of the period as the archaeology of the time could compass, and the throne was surrounded with Gothic tracery. At the back of the throne were emblazoned the Royal Arms of England in silver. Seated on this throne, the Queen and Prince Albert awaited the arrival of Anne of Bretagne, which, ushered in by heralds, took place at half-past ten.

The various characters then formed a procession divided into Quadrilles, the French, German, Spanish, Italian, Highland, Russian, Waverley and Crusaders Quadrilles, and marched into the Ball Room, where dancing at once commenced, the Queen and Prince Albert watching the scene, seated on a haut pas. At one o'clock, the Earl of Liverpool, the Lord Steward, conducted the Queen and Prince Albert to supper; and when they had finished the guests were attended to. After supper, the Queen danced a quadrille with Prince George of Cambridge, their vis-a-vis being the Duchess of Buccleugh and the Duke of Beaufort; then some reels were danced, and the Queen retired at half-past two.

This account would be strangely incomplete without some account of two or three of the principal dresses, to give an idea of the splendour of the show. The Queen's petticoat was of red velvet, trimmed with ermine. The ground of the jacket was garter blue, with a large pattern of leaves woven in it, of gold, and ornamented with precious stones; hanging sleeves, lined with ermine. The mantle was of cloth of gold, worked in silver, and trimmed with gold lace and pearls, lined with ermine, and fastened in front with a broad gold band, worked in diamonds and other precious stones. Her shoes were red silk, worked with gold and diamonds.

The crown was a fac-simile of that worn by Queen Philippa, and was ornamented with diamonds and precious stones. Under the crown, descending to the sides of the face, was a network of red velvet and diamonds.

Prince Albert's under dress, of a garter-blue ground, was worked in large gold flowers, lined with red silk. The collar and cuffs were ornamented with diamonds and precious stones. The cloak was of red velvet, trimmed with gold lace and pearls, and was fastened in front with a band of diamonds and different coloured precious stones, and was lined with ermine. His hose were of red silk, and he wore shoes of red velvet, embroidered with gold and satin. His crown was that of Edward III., ornamented with diamonds and precious stones. The sword-belt was of red velvet, studded with rosettes of gold and diamonds; the sword was richly ornamented with the rose, thistle, oak, and shamrock, in diamonds and precious stones, the cross, forming the handle, containing some very large emeralds.

The mantle of the Duchess of Cambridge, as Anne of Bretagne, was of crimson velvet, bordered with ermine, looped up at the sides, displaying the petticoat of cloth of silver, worked in silver and gold, fastened with diamond ornaments; the top was edged with two rows of large pearls, having between them a variety of ornaments, formed of sapphires, emeralds and diamonds; the lower row of pearls had beneath it a fringe of large diamonds, formed into drops. The stomacher had rows of large pearls, of very great value, mixed with diamonds. Extending from the stomacher to the bottom of the mantle were rosettes and other ornaments of diamonds, sapphires and emeralds, forming a broad band down the mantle. The ceinture was also composed of brilliants, emeralds and sapphires. The sleeves were fastened with diamonds and sapphires, and the necklace was of emeralds and brilliants.

The diadem was composed wholly of pearls and diamonds, except the fleur de lys by which it was surmounted, which was composed of emeralds and sapphires. The head-dress was decorated with two rows of large diamonds and one of pearls. The veil was of gold tulle.

The Duke of Beaufort having been selected by the Duchess of Cambridge to personate Louis XII., in the French Quadrille, of which Her Royal Highness was the leader, His Grace appeared in one of the most splendid dresses handed down by Monfaucon, in his Monarchie Francaise. The dress consisted of rich blue velvet, sumptuously embroidered in gold, with which were intermixed rubies, emeralds, pearls and other precious stones, with a large diamond star in the centre, and an opal, of priceless value, set with diamonds. The cloak was of cloth of gold, lined with white satin, and trimmed over with powdered ermine. The belt worn by the Noble Duke, on this occasion, was of crimson, richly studded with precious stones, and fastened in the centre by a large diamond buckle. Sword, a valuable specimen of the art of that period, the hilt being of gold, exquisitely chased; a crimson velvet hat with feathers, confined in the front by a costly jewel.

Space prevents my giving any more of the dresses, and I only notice that the Earl of Cardigan appeared in the French Quadrille, clad in armour, as Bayard, the "Chevalier sans reproche"!!!

As almost everyone's dress was ablaze with diamonds and other jewels, it is pleasant to think, that very few losses were sustained, and those were, generally, of trifling value. The only loss of any moment was that sustained by Prince Albert, from the girdle of whose gorgeous dress, is supposed to have dropped a valuable brilliant of great size.

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