The Royal “Bal CostumÉ”—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 archÆology 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.

On 30 May, about half-past six in the evening, as the Queen was returning from her usual drive, and was close to Buckingham Palace, she was fired at by a young miscreant named John Francis, aged 20, described as a carpenter. He was at once seized, and examined by the Privy Council. The simplest account of the event was given at the boy’s trial by Col. Arbuthnot, one of the Queen’s equerries, whose testimony was as follows: “My general position is about five yards in the rear of Her Majesty. Before we left the Palace, I had received an intimation which induced me to ride as close to Her Majesty as I could; and Colonel Wylde, Prince Albert’s equerry, rode in the same position, on the other side. Between 6 and 7 o’clock, we were coming down Constitution Hill, when, about halfway down the Hill, I observed the prisoner; and, on the carriage reaching him, he took a pistol from his side, and fired it in the direction of the Queen. As quickly as I could, I pulled up my horse, and gave the prisoner into custody. The prisoner had, before this, caught my attention as appearing anxious to see Her Majesty. The Colonel went on to say that the utmost distance from the carriage, when Francis fired, was seven feet. The cortÉge had been going at the rate of eleven miles an hour; but the Colonel had given instructions at this spot, to go faster, and the postillions were driving at the rate of twelve or thirteen miles an hour. The Queen was sitting on the back seat of the carriage, on the side nearest to the prisoner. The pistol seemed to the witness to be pointed in the direct line of Her Majesty.”

On the news being communicated to the Houses of Parliament, they adjourned in confusion, as it was found impossible to carry on the public business whilst in that state of excitement. Next day both Houses voted congratulatory addresses, and the same were sent by every corporate body throughout the Kingdom. The Queen, who could not fail to be affected by this attempt upon her life, nevertheless attended the Opera the same evening, and met with a most enthusiastic reception.

Francis was tried, on the charge of High Treason, at the Central Criminal Court, on 17 June, and found guilty; there being no reasonable doubt but that the pistol was loaded with something more than gunpowder. His sentence was: “That you, John Francis, be taken from hence to the place from whence you came, that you be drawn from thence on a hurdle to the place of execution, and that you be hanged by the neck until you be dead: that your head be, afterwards, severed from your body, and that your body be divided into four quarters, to be disposed of in such manner as Her Majesty shall deem fit. And the Lord have mercy on your soul!”

This sentence was commuted to transportation for life, and on 6 July he left Newgate for Gosport, and he was sent to Norfolk Island by the first transport sailing thither.

This mania for shooting at the Queen was infectious. If Oxford had not been treated so leniently, there would have been no Francis; and if there had been no Francis, there would have been no Bean. This was another young miscreant, aged 18, deformed, and very short. It was on Sunday, 3 July, when the Queen was going from Buckingham Palace to the Chapel Royal, St. James’s, that, in the Mall, this boy was seen to present a pistol at the Queen. A young man named Dassett saw the act, and this is a resumÉ of his evidence at the trial on 25 Aug.: He said he saw the royal carriages coming along, and saw the prisoner come from the crowd, draw a pistol from his breast, and present it at the carriage, at arm’s length, and breast high; and then he heard the click of a pistol hammer upon the pan; but there was no explosion. He seized him, and, assisted by his brother, took him across the Mall, and gave him to Police Constable Hearn, who said “it did not amount to a charge.” Another policeman, likewise, refused to take the prisoner, who only asked to have his pistol back again. The pressure of the crowd was so great, that he was obliged to let Bean go; and, afterwards, the people said that witness himself had been shooting at the Queen, and a policeman took the pistol away from him.

In his cross-examination, Dassett said that some person in the crowd laughed, and others called out that the pistol was not loaded. An Inspector of Police deposed to having received the pistol from witness, and he unloaded it; the charge was not large, and consisted of coarse gunpowder, some short pieces of tobacco pipe, and four small pieces of gravel.

Bean got away for a time, but was, afterwards, captured and tried, found guilty, and sentenced to 18 months’ imprisonment in Millbank Penitentiary.

The old Duke of Cambridge (the Queen’s uncle) had a fright, on the 6 July, when he was at a fÊte at Jesus College, Cambridge, for he lost the diamond star from his breast, valued at £500. Everybody thought it had been stolen by an expert thief, but it was afterwards found by a Police Inspector, in the gardens, much trodden on, and with three diamonds missing; so it was “All’s well that ends well.”

There was great distress in the manufacturing districts, and disturbances originating in a strike for higher wages, were inflamed by the Chartists, and other political agitators. Beginning in Lancashire, the riots spread through Cheshire, Staffordshire, Warwickshire and Yorkshire, and, finally, extended to the manufacturing towns of Scotland, and the collieries of Wales. There were conflicts with the military, and people were killed; altogether, matters were very serious.

It was better in London. On 19 Aug. a Chartist meeting was to be held on Clerkenwell Green, but plenty of police were there to meet them. Most of the mob were discouraged, and went home, but the police were obliged to arrest some 50 of them, and some banners were captured. Then they went to Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and in Long Acre, they came into collision with the police, and some damage was done. So serious was the outlook, that all the military in the Metropolis and the suburbs were kept under arms, and there were large reserves of police at every Station House; and, next day, the magistrate, at Bow Street, had a busy day, hearing cases arising from this outbreak. On the 22nd Aug. there were Chartist meetings at Clerkenwell Green and Paddington (the latter numbering upwards of 10,000), but the worst cases were managed by the police, and no very great harm came of them.

On 22 June, Sir Robt. Peel’s Bill, imposing an Income Tax, received the Royal sanction. It is 5 and 6 Vic., c. 35: “An Act for granting Her Majesty Duties on Profits arising from Property, Professions, Trades, and Offices, until the 6th day of April, 1845.” We see that it was imposed only for three years, but the Old Man of the Sea, once on the popular back, has never come off; and, in all probability, never will. It began at 7d. in the pound, has been as high as 16d., and as low as 2d. There is in Blackwood’s Magazine for Aug., 1842:

“The Income Tax.
An excellent New Song.

All you who rents, or profits draw,
Enough to come within the law,
Your button’d pockets now relax,
And quickly pay your Income Tax.

A pleasant medicine’s sure to kill,
Your only cure’s a bitter pill:
The drugs of base deluding quacks
Made Peel prescribe the Income Tax.

You can’t enjoy your pint, or pot,
And then refuse to pay the shot;
You can’t pursue expensive tracks
With a toll, or Income Tax.

Ye Quakers, clad in sober suit,
And all ye Baptist tribes to boot,
’Twas right, perhaps, to free the blacks,
But, thence arose this Income Tax.

Ye bagmen bold, ye lovers fond,
Who daily like to correspond,
Remember, as you break the wax,
Cheap postage means an Income Tax.

Ye noisy fools, who made a rout
To try and keep the Tories out,
The blunders of your Whiggish hacks
Have brought us to this Income Tax.

Old Cupid’s [194] wish to crush the Czar
Has cost us, in the Afghan war,
Both English lives and Indian lacs,
And hastened on the Income Tax.

Regardless of the price of teas,
They anger’d, too, the poor Chinese,
The Mandarins have shown their backs,
But war soon brings an Income Tax.

Yet now I hope the new tariff
Will something save in beer and beef;
If that be so, you’ll all go snacks,
And half escape your Income Tax.

At least, we poor folks fear no shock
At hearing the collector’s knock;
His jest, the poundless poet cracks
On him who calls for Income Tax.”

The day of reckoning for the Rioters of August duly came, and both at York and Salford Assizes many were punished, and at the end of September Feargus O’Connor was arrested in London for sedition, as were other Chartist leaders at Manchester and Leeds. In October, more rioters were tried, and sentenced, at Stafford and Liverpool.

Even women meddled with Chartism, and on 17 Oct. a meeting of female Chartists was held at the National Charter Association in the Old Bailey, to form a female Chartist Association to co-operate with the original society. A Mr. Cohen created some dissatisfaction by speaking against the interposition of women in political affairs; he “put it to the mothers present, whether they did not find themselves more happy in the peacefulness and usefulness of the domestic hearth, than in coming forth in public, and aspiring after political rights?” Miss Inge asked Mr. Cohen, did he not consider women qualified to fill public offices? it did not require much “physical force” to vote! Mr. Cohen replied with an argumentum ad foeminam:—He would, with all humility and respect, ask the young lady, what sort of office she would aspire to fill? If she would fill one, she would fill all? He was not going to treat the question with ridicule; but he would ask her to suppose herself in the House of Commons, as Member for a Parliamentary Borough, and that a young gentleman, a lover, in that House, were to try to influence her vote, through his sway over her affections; how would she act? whether, in other words, she could resist, and might not lose sight of the public interests? (Order! Order!) He wished to be in order. He was for maintaining the social rights of women; political rights, such as he understood that meeting to aspire to, she could never, in his opinion, attain. This drew forth an energetic speech from Miss Mary Anne Walker; she “repudiated, with indignation, the insinuation that, if women were in Parliament, any man, be he husband, or be he lover, would dare to be so base a scoundrel as to attempt to sway her from the strict line of duty.” Miss Walker was much applauded; and, after the business of the evening, she received the thanks of the meeting.

In the Times of Oct. 5, there is a paragraph about a gipsey trial, and as that curious nomad race is fast disappearing, it may prove of interest to my readers:

“A short time since, a very remarkable circumstance took place in the New Forest, Hampshire, in the instance of a gipsey, named Lee, being cast out of the fraternity. The spot where the scene took place was at Bolton’s Bench, near Lyndhurst. Between 300 and 400 gipsies, belonging to different tribes, including the Lees, Stanleys, and Coopers, were assembled upon this unusual occasion. The concourse consisted of a great many females; and so secretly had the meeting been got up, that scarcely a person residing in the neighbourhood was aware that a circumstance of the sort was about to take place. The offender, a handsome-looking man, apparently between 38 and 40 years of age, was placed in the middle of a ring, composed of the King of the Gipsies, and the patriarchs of different tribes. This ring was followed by a second, made up of the male portion of the assembly; and an exterior circle was formed by the women. The King (one of the Lees), who was a venerable old man, and one who looked as though he had seen upwards of 90 summers, then addressed the culprit for nearly an hour, but in a tongue that was perfectly strange to the bystanders. The address was delivered in a most impressive manner, as might be conceived by the vehemence of the gesticulations which accompanied it. None but the gipsies themselves had the slightest knowledge of the crime which had been committed by the offender, but it must have been one evidently very obnoxious to the tribe, as the act of expulsion from among them is an exceedingly rare occurrence. As soon as the King had finished his speech to the condemned man, he turned round, and harangued the whole of the gipsies assembled; and, expressing himself in English, he informed them that Jacob Lee had been expelled from among them, that he was no longer one of their fraternity, and that he must leave the camp of the gipsies for ever. The King, then advancing towards him, spat upon him, and the circle which enclosed him simultaneously opened to admit of his retreating from among them, while they smote him with branches of trees, as he left the ground. The meeting then broke up, and the parties assembled went their different ways; some of them having come some considerable distance, in order to be present at the tribunal.”

Early in November Mr. J. Simon, LL.B., was called to the Bar, being the first Jewish barrister connected with the Middle Temple. A Hebrew bible had to be obtained, on which he could be sworn, and a difficulty having arisen, owing to the custom of Jews putting on their hats when taking an oath, the size of the wig rendering it impossible in this case, it was ruled that the head was sufficiently covered by the wig.

On 31 May, 1842, an Act (5 & 6 Vic., c. 22) was passed for the demolition of the Fleet prison, and on 30 Nov., the records, books, etc., and the remaining prisoners, seventy in number, were removed to the Queen’s prison. The Marshalsea was also closed, and its three prisoners were also transferred. The Fleet had been a prison ever since the time of William the Conqueror.

Writing about the Fleet prison sets one thinking of the marriages solemnized within its rules, and there is an entry in one of the registers: “The Woman ran across Ludgate Hill in her shift.” In the Times of 15 Dec., I find the following, copied from the Boston Herald:

“Gedney.—A most extravagant exhibition took place here on Friday. A widow, named Farrow, having four children, was married to a man named David Wilkinson; and the woman having been told that if she was married, covered by nothing but a sheet, her husband would not be answerable for her debts, actually had the hardihood to go to church with nothing on but a sheet, sewn up like a sack, with holes in the sides for her arms, and in this way was married.” I have come across several instances of this vulgar error.

On the 3rd Dec. was tried a famous gambling case which ended in the discomfiture of a notorious gaming-house keeper, named Bond. It was a case in the Court of Exchequer—Smith v. Bond. At the gaming house kept by the latter, the game played was, usually, “French Hazard”; and persons of rank were in the habit of staking large sums against the “bank” held by Bond, to whom reverted all the profits of the game; in one evening they amounted to £2,000 or £3,000. Considerable losses were sustained, on various occasions, by Mr. Bredall, Capt. Courtney, Mr. Fitzroy Stanhope, the Marquis of Conyngham, Lord Cantelupe and General Churchill. The action was brought under the Act 9th Anne, c. 14, to recover from Bond the sums alleged to have been unlawfully won. A verdict for the plaintiff was returned on five out of ten counts, with damages including the treble value of £3,508, the sum lost. Half the damages went to the parish.