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.”

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 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. 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:

On 8 June, Astley’s Amphitheatre was burnt down, one life being sacrificed, and causing a monetary loss of over £30,000. 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.”