Death of Lord Norbury—Birth of photography—Experimental street pavements—Forecast of the Queen’s marriage—Sad story of Lady Flora Hastings—Story of a climbing boy—Van Amburgh—Embanking the Thames—Victoria Park—Robbery of gold dust.

In a book, professedly of Gossip, politics should be strictly kept in the background—but at this time Ireland was seething with sedition. Still I should hardly have adverted to it, had not the deliberate and brutal murder of the Earl of Norbury, on 1 Jan., set all tongues wagging. His Lordship was walking in the shrubbery, near his own house at Kilbeggan, in the county of Meath, talking to his steward, and pointing out to him some trees he wished to have cut down, when some miscreant, behind a hedge, fired a blunder-buss loaded with swan shot at him, and he fell, mortally wounded. He lived for 43 hours afterwards—but his assassin ran away and escaped; nor, in spite of large rewards offered, was he ever discovered.

Photography may be said to have been practically born early in this year, for, on 7 Jan., the French Academy reported on the invention of M. Daguerre, by which the pictures of the camera lucida were rendered permanent. All former attempts may be regarded as scientific dilletanteism and nothing more. The earliest known pictures caused by light on a sensitive surface were made by Thomas Wedgwood (a son of Josiah, the famous potter), whose researches were published in 1802 in the Journal of the Royal Institution, under the title: “An account of a Method of copying Paintings upon Glass, and making Profiles by the agency of Light upon Nitrate of Silver: with Observations by H. Davy.” Afterwards, came Nicephore Niepce, of ChÂlon sur SaÔne, who produced permanent light pictures in 1814, and he and Daguerre went into partnership in this matter, in 1829. Fox Talbot was the first to invent a negative photograph, and he read a paper on “Photogenic Drawings” before the Royal Society, on 31 Jan., this year; and that scientific investigation of the new wonder excited the attention, even of amateurs, is shown by a letter in the Times of 21 Feb.:

“Sir,—Seeing in a newspaper, last week, that a German had found out M. Daguerre’s secret, I was so impressed with that testimony to the possibility of seizing a shadow, that I thought over all the little I knew of light, colours and chymistry. The next day, I took a piece of writing paper, hastily prepared by myself, placed it behind the lens of a camera obscura, made on the spur of the moment, and obtained a satisfactory result; for the trees, in front of my house, were produced, but not the parts agitated by the wind. Since that, I have obtained, progressively improving, several landscapes, which may be called, most appositely, ‘lucigraphs.’ I mention my humble effort as corroborative of the reality, or feasibility of M. Daguerre’s beautiful discovery; and I can readily conceive that, in a very short time, the traveller’s portmanteau will not be complete without the very portable means of procuring a lucigraph at pleasure.—Yours, etc., Clericus, Welney, Wisbeach.” This gentleman’s prophecy has, long since, been verified, as the “Kodakers” all over the world can testify. But the first public experiment in England (if we exclude Wedgwood’s) was made, on Sept. 13, 1839, when M. St. Croix exhibited the whole process of Daguerreotype, in presence of a select party of scientific men and artists. He also succeeded in producing a picture of the place of meeting; No. 7, Piccadilly.

People were beginning to wake up as to social improvements, and the better paving of, at least, the most public thoroughfares, was loudly called for. Hitherto people had been content with the old cobble stones, and wide kennels, or gutters—but henceforth there was to be inaugurated a newer and better rÉgime, as we learn from the Observer of 6 Jan.:

“Experimental Pavement of Oxford Street.—This, doubtless, the most extraordinary and novel undertaking which has ever been attempted in the annals of road making, is, to the gratification, not only to the respectable inhabitants of Oxford Street, but to a curious public, at last, completed. On Friday (4 Jan.) at 2 o’clock, the line of this great thoroughfare, occupied by the various specimens of paving, extending from Charles Street to Tottenham Court Road, presented a most animated spectacle, being thronged by thousands of spectators anxious to witness its opening to the public. Shortly after 2 o’clock, the Paving Committee appointed by the Marylebone Vestry to superintend the arrangement of this work of art, headed by the parish beadles, in full uniform, with their maces; and accompanied by the respective projectors and the parochial authorities, arrived on the spot in procession, and passed over the ground, followed by 21 omnibuses, after which, the road was thrown open to the public. From time to time, during the progress of the work, many erroneous statements have gone the rounds of our daily contemporaries, with respect to the extent of ground allotted to the experiments, and on other matters connected with the arrangements. The following, however, being obtained from an official source, may be fully relied upon as correct: The whole space between Charles Street and Tottenham Court Road is occupied by 12 different specimens, which are completed in the following order, commencing at Charles Street: viz.—40 feet of Robinson’s Parisian bitumen—24 feet laid in straight courses, and 16 feet diagonally; 74 feet of parish stone paving, 54 feet of which is laid in straight courses, the stones 9 inches deep, and the interstices filled up with Claridge’s asphalte; the remaining 20 feet consisting of stones only 4½ inches deep, but laid diagonally, and filled up with the same composition; 60 feet of the Bastenne and Gaujac bitumen, partly laid in straight courses, and partly diagonally: 135 feet of parish stone paving, divided into three sections, in the following order—1st, 70 feet of dressed Aberdeen granite, with concrete bottom, and the joints grouted with lime and sand; 2nd, 40 feet of the same, laid diagonally; and 3rd, 25 feet of dressed Aberdeen granite, without concrete bottom, the joints filled in with fine gravel; this is followed by 50 feet of the Scotch asphaltum, which is entirely the produce of this country, laid down in straight courses: 60 feet of Mr. Stead’s pavement, of wooden blocks, of a sexagonal form, 12 inches deep, divided into three compartments, one prepared with Kyan’s patent, part dipped in, and joints run with asphalte, and part without any preparation whatever: the last specimen, at Tottenham Court Road, is 60 feet of the Val de Travers bitumen, a portion of which consists of square blocks, laid in straight courses, and the remainder consisting of a layer of clean Guernsey chippings cemented together by boiling asphalte, run among them nearly to the surface, and a face made with asphalte, merely showing the chippings, here and there, in patches. The whole work presents a most even and beautiful road, and, yesterday, during the day, attracted the notice of many hundreds of persons. The portion, however, it is but justice to add, to which attention was more particularly directed, was that of the wooden blocks, the noiseless tendency of which, made the vehicles passing along, appear to be rolling over a thick carpet or rug. The time allowed by the Vestry of St. Marylebone for the test of these experiments, is until the last Saturday of June next, when the official report of the surveyors will be laid before that body, and upon which the fate of Oxford Street depends.”

People began to feel that it was high time that the Queen should marry—but, as yet, no signs of such a thing, and no speculations, as far as I can see, were hazarded as to who her future consort should be. At length, one newspaper, the Sun, seems to have been inspired, by authority, and is thus quoted in the Times of 24 Jan.:—“‘Marriage of Her Majesty.—The country will learn with delight that the most interesting part of the speech from the throne [81a] to both Houses of Parliament, and the country at large, will be the announcement of Her Majesty’s intended marriage. The happy object of Queen Victoria’s choice is Prince Albert, son of the reigning Duke of Saxe Coburg, and cousin of Her Majesty. Prince Albert is handsome, and about 22 years of age. He has resided, for some time, in this country, on a visit to his Royal relatives. How soon the happy event is to take place, we are not prepared to say, but our readers may depend upon the authenticity of our information.’—The Sun. Has not some wag been hoaxing the editor? We suspect so, though, at the same time, we do not profess to have any knowledge on the subject.”

Indeed, it was about time that the Queen married, and got out of the leading strings of the women folk who surrounded her. Had she been married, we should, probably, have never heard of the sad episode of Lady Flora Hastings.

This lady, who was highly accomplished, and the authoress of some pretty poems, [81b] which were published after her death, was the eldest daughter of Francis, Marquis of Hastings, and Flora, Countess of Loudon, and was lady of the bedchamber to the Duchess of Kent. Two old busybodies, the Ladies Portman and Tavistock, spread the vile and unfounded rumour that the unfortunate lady was enceinte, and the Queen forbade Lady Flora to appear at Court until she had submitted to the indignity of a medical examination. The case called forth some very strong feeling—and a vast quantity of correspondence was published on the subject, especially the indignant letters of the poor lady’s mother to the Queen; but, perhaps, the most temperate account of the whole affair, is in a letter from Lady Flora’s uncle, Mr. Hamilton Fitzgerald, which was published in the Examiner of Sunday, 24th of March, and, afterwards, copied into all the daily papers.

“Sir,—Many false and contradictory reports of the deplorable insult which has been lately offered to my niece, Lady Flora Hastings, at Buckingham Palace, having appeared in the public papers, I, as her ladyship’s nearest connection, feel it my duty to request of you to publish the following account of the transaction, for the correctness of which I vouch.

“Lady Flora arrived, some weeks since, from Scotland, very unwell. She immediately consulted Sir James Clark, the physician to both Her Majesty and the Duchess of Kent. One symptom of her complaint was a swelling of the stomach. By dint of exercise and medical treatment, she was getting better; the swelling had considerably subsided, and she had every hope of a speedy recovery; when, on or about the 1st of March, Sir James Clark went to her room, and announced to her the conviction of the ladies of the Palace that she was pregnant. In answer to all his exhortations to confession, ‘as the only means of saving her character,’ Lady Flora returned an indignant, but steady denial that there was anything to confess. Upon which, Sir James Clark told her, ‘that nothing but her submitting to a medical examination would ever satisfy them, or remove the stigma from her name.’ Lady Flora found that the subject had been brought before the Queen’s notice, and that all this had been discussed, arranged and denounced to her, without one word having been said on the subject to her own mistress, the Duchess of Kent; who had no suspicion of what was going on, and whose sanction was not sought for the humiliating proposition which had been made to Lady Flora. On leaving Lady Flora’s room, Sir James Clark went to the Duchess of Kent, and announced his conviction that Lady Flora was with child; and was followed by Lady Portman, who conveyed a message from Her Majesty to her mother, that the Queen would not permit Lady Flora to appear till the examination had taken place. Lady Portman (who, with Lady Tavistock, are mentioned as most active against Lady Flora) expressed to the Duchess of Kent, her conviction of Lady Flora’s guilt.

“‘Her beloved mistress’ never, for a moment, doubted Lady Flora’s innocence. She said that she knew her, her principles, and her family too well to listen to such a charge. However, the edict was given; and, the next day, Lady Flora having obtained the Duchess of Kent’s very reluctant consent—‘for Her Royal Highness could not bear the idea of her being exposed to such a humiliation’—but, Lady Flora, ‘feeling it her duty to Her Royal Highness, to herself, and to her family, that a point blank refutation should be instantly given to the lie,’ submitted herself to the most rigid examination; and now possesses a certificate, signed by Sir James Clark, and also by Sir Charles Clark, stating, as strongly as language can state it, that there are no grounds for believing that pregnancy does exist, or ever has existed. Lord Hastings, though, at the time very ill from influenza, went to London immediately, and demanded, and obtained, from Lord Melbourne, a distinct disavowal of his participation in the affair; and demanded, and obtained, an audience of Her Majesty, in which, while he disclaimed all idea that the Queen had any wish to injure his sister, he plainly, though respectfully, stated his opinion of those who had counselled her, and his resolution to find out the originator of the slander, and bring him, or her, to punishment. Lady Flora is convinced that the Queen was surprised into the order which was given, and that Her Majesty did not understand what she was betrayed into; for, ever since the horrid event, Her Majesty has shown her regret by the most gracious kindness to Lady Flora, and expressed it warmly, with ‘tears in her eyes.’

“The Duchess of Kent’s conduct was perfect; ‘a mother could not have been kinder.’ ‘She immediately dismissed Sir James Clark from her service, and refused to see Lady Portman’; and has crowned her goodness by a most beautiful letter she has written to the Dowager Lady Hastings, from whom the accounts were kept, till all hope of avoiding publicity was impossible.”

Her brother, the Marquis of Hastings, was indefatigable in trying to unearth the promoters of the scandal, but, from the published letters, without much result; but the unfortunate affair involved the whole Court, for a time, in unpopularity—Lady Loudon, her mother, demanded from the Queen, Sir James Clark’s dismissal, but was not successful. Meantime, the object of all this agitation, after resuming, for a time, the duties of her situation, grew gradually worse, and, at length, expired, on the 5th July, at the age of 33. By the desire of Lord Hastings, a post mortem examination of the body took place, the particulars of which, attested by five of the most eminent surgeons of the metropolis, were published in the papers, and fully established the unfortunate lady’s complete innocence of the charge brought against her, the cause of death being clearly shown to be enlargement of the liver.

Lady Flora’s remains were removed from the palace, at an early hour in the morning, to be conveyed, by steamboat, to Scotland. Even as early as two o’clock, a considerable number of spectators were assembled, which increased in every street through which the procession passed. Four Royal carriages, including those of the Queen and the Queen Dowager, and many belonging to the nobility, accompanied the hearse. Lady Flora’s body was interred, on the 15th of July, in the family vault at Loudon, Ayrshire.

There were many books and pamphlets published with regard to this affair, among which were her mother’s letters to the Queen: “The Lady Flora Hastings, a Brief Sketch”—“A Warning to the Baroness Lehzen, [84] etc.”—“The Palace Martyr, a Satire”—“The Dangers of Evil Council, etc.”—“A Dirge on the Death of Lady Flora Hastings”—“The late Lady Flora Hastings: Statements of the Marquis of Hastings, etc.”—“The Victim of Scandal.”

At the time of which I write, climbing boys were still employed to sweep chimneys, and as a sample of the manner in which they were treated by their masters, I give the following police case. 25 Jan.:

Marlborough Street.—Henry Riddle, foreman to Robert Towser, a chimney sweep, appeared before the magistrates on a summons charging him under the 4 & 5 Wil. IV., c. 35, with the following act of cruelty towards James Arnold, a boy about 12 years of age, and who, for some time past, had been in Towser’s employ.

Mr. Rice, a baker, of 31, Up. Seymour St., Portman Sq., deposed that, on the afternoon of the 18th instant, his kitchen chimney, by some accident, caught fire; and, in consequence of information thereof being communicated to the defendant Riddle, he, soon afterwards, came to the house, bringing with him the boy Arnold, whom he, at once, desired to ascend, notwithstanding that the lighted soot was, at the time, coming down into the grate in large flakes.

Mr. Rawlinson: Did you remonstrate with Riddle upon the inhumanity of his conduct?

Complainant: I did, and begged of him not to send the boy up, as he would, inevitably, be suffocated; to which he replied, “Oh, d---n it, I’ve many a time been up a chimney ten times worse than that, myself, and why can’t he do it?” At this period, I had occasion to go upstairs, and made my way on to the roof, just as a friend of mine was about to pour down a quantity of water, when I begged of him not to do so, as I fancied I heard the voice of someone within a short distance of the top of the chimney; we both listened, and heard someone faintly say, “For God’s sake, take the chimney pot off, or I shall be suffocated.” With some difficulty we tore away the mortar, and, having removed the pot, we beheld the poor boy Arnold, who kept crying out, “Oh! pull me up, pull me up!” My friend then thrust down his arm, and, laying hold of the little sufferer, succeeded in extricating him from his perilous situation.

Mr. Rawlinson: Was the chimney, at the time, still on fire?

Complainant: It was, Sir.

Mr. Rawlinson: In what condition did the boy seem when lifted out of the chimney?

Complainant: He seemed almost in a lifeless state, and when carrying him in my arms downstairs, I was fearful he would not recover. After the lapse of a little time, I gave him a small quantity of brandy, and he, in a great measure, revived; Riddle then took hold of him, and leading him to the roof of the house, insisted upon his descending from the top to the bottom of the chimney, which he did, and he and Riddle then left the place.

Mr. Rawlinson (to Riddle): What answer have you to make for ill-treating this poor boy in so shameful a manner?

Riddle: The boy is not an apprentice, and he was not sent up the chimney until a quantity of water had been thrown down.

Mr. Rawlinson, after remarking upon the atrocious nature of the offence, ordered Riddle to find bail to answer the charge at the Sessions; at the same time expressing a hope that a severe example would be made of him.

From 1838 to 1841, there was exhibiting in London a famous lion tamer named Van Amburgh, and, in January, 1839, the Queen went to Drury Lane Theatre to witness his performance, with which she was so pleased, that she commissioned Sir Edwin Landseer to paint a picture of Van Amburgh and his lions, which was exhibited in 1839, and is now in the Royal Collection at Osborne. If I am not very much mistaken there is another, by the same artist, of the same subject, in the Duke of Wellington’s town mansion, at Apsley House.

We can see how long it takes to carry out well-known and wanted improvements—take the Thames Embankment for example. Originally suggested by Wren after the great fire of London in 1666, and afterwards by William Paterson, the founder of the Bank of England, about 1694, the matter slumbered until 1767, when the Corporation of the City of London embanked one mile of the river. The question arose spasmodically until 1838, when the Corporation consulted with the Government as to the advisability of embanking the Thames all the way between London and Vauxhall Bridges, and, in Jan., 1839, the Government sanctioned surveys being made and estimates prepared; the whole correspondence concerning which may be found in the Times of 2 Feb., 1839. But no practical steps were taken in the matter until 1860, when the Metropolitan Board of Works memorialised the House of Commons, and a Committee was appointed which sat for the first time on 30 Ap., 1861. An Act for carrying out the scheme was passed on 7 Aug., 1862, and the work was commenced in Nov. of the same year. The northern (Victoria) embankment, which terminated at Whitehall Stairs, was opened (as far as the footway went) to the public on 30 July, 1868.

Victoria Park took a shorter time to mature. The first mention of it, that I can find, is in the Times of March, 1839: “The inhabitants of St. Mary, Whitechapel, are bestirring themselves to obtain the formation of a Royal Park in their neighbourhood, and the Vestry of the parish are about to bring the matter before the public.” And they did so with such good effect that an Act was passed on 21 June, 1841 (4 & 5 Vic., c. 27), “To enable Her Majesty’s Commissioners of Works to complete the Contract for the Sale of York House, and to purchase certain lands for a Royal Park.” York House was sold to the Duke of Sutherland, and with the whole, or part, of the purchase money, the Commissioners were to purchase certain lands or hereditaments containing about 290 acres, which “shall for ever, thereafter, be taken and be a Royal Park, by the name of ‘Victoria Park.’” The Park was completed, and opened to the public, in 1845.

On Monday, 25 March, occurred a most daring robbery of gold dust valued at £4,600, which, at the time, created a great sensation. It seems that two boxes of gold dust were brought to this country from Mexico, in the Sea Gull Packet, consigned to the Brazilian Mining Co., and were landed at Falmouth. They were, subsequently, transshipped on board the City of Limerick steamer, which arrived at Dublin on Sunday afternoon. The boxes were not landed at the wharf until Monday morning, and, at noon on that day, the stranger who obtained possession of them drove up to the wharf in a cab which he had hired in the city. The letter which he presented to the wharfinger for the delivery of the boxes was in the same handwriting as one which the wharfinger had received from Falmouth, and which bore the postmark of that place, in the morning. It gave particular directions respecting the boxes, and that they were only to be delivered to a gentleman who would call in the course of the day, and present a letter in the same handwriting for their delivery. The person who obtained the boxes accurately described their contents, the marks on them, and the time they were landed at Falmouth. The wharfinger, as might be expected, was completely put off his guard by the ingenuity and cunning of the thief, and delivered them over to him.

On 3 April, two Jews, Ellis and Lewis Caspar, father and son, were brought up at Lambeth Street Police Station for being concerned in the robbery; afterwards, two other prisoners, Emanuel Moses and his daughter, Alice Abrahams, were arrested, and all were committed for trial, the Caspars for stealing the gold, the other two for feloniously receiving the same, well knowing it to be stolen. They were tried at the Central Criminal Court on 24 June, the trial lasting eight days. The jury found them all guilty, but recommended Alice Abrahams to mercy, believing that she acted under the advice and influence of her father. Judgment was not pronounced on them until 3 Feb., 1840, when the three male prisoners were sentenced to fourteen years’ transportation, and the female to four months’ hard labour. The Jewish community tried all their influence to get these sentences modified, but the convicts sailed for Sydney in the following October. The expenses of the prosecutor in connection with the trial amounted to £2,900!