CHAPTER XIX. 1815

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Health of the King — Extension of the Order of the Bath — Wife selling — A Sailor's frolic — "Nelson's Lady Hamilton" — "The Pig-faced Lady" — The advantage of being able to play the violin — Napoleon's escape from Elba.

Neither this, nor any of the succeeding years of the Regency, can produce any string of events to vie with 1814. After that stirring year, all others fall flat. Still, with the exception of Napoleon's hundred days, we shall probably find more social chit-chat in them, than those which have preceded them in this Chronicle. Unfortunately for me there is no sequence of events, and my narrative must, necessarily, be made up of disjointed fragments culled from various sources, but which, nevertheless, illustrate the idea of this book—the Social life of the period.

First of all, let us look at the health of the poor old King, now nearly half forgotten. One bulletin will suffice, as it exactly expresses his state for the year. "Windsor Castle, February 4.—The King continues in good health; but since the last Report his Majesty has been less uniformly tranquil than he was during some preceding months." His bodily health was good, and mentally he was generally composed, and tranquil, with occasional outbursts of furious mania, and, in any case, his mental alienation was continuous: he never recovered his reason.

One of the first public acts of the Regent, in this year, was to enlarge the Order of the Bath. The long and arduous duties of our troops merited some reward when peace was obtained; and, although they only did their duty, as our troops do now, they were not thanked, as now, by the Sovereign after every little skirmish, nor were medals so lavishly given as now. Every one knows the length of time before the Waterloo medal was issued to all who were worthy of its receipt. The orders of Chivalry were few, and it was then an honour to receive a decoration. Going on at the present rate, knighthood will soon be about on a par with the Order of S.S. Maurice and Lazarus.

At all events, the extension of the Order of the Bath was fixed upon, and a good choice it was, because it was not of mushroom creation, as it was instituted in 1399. After Charles II., it fell into abeyance, until George I. revived it in 1725. The London Gazette of 3rd of January, gives the ordinance enlarging this Order of Chivalry, which, henceforth, was to consist of Knights Grand Cross, Knights Commander, and Companions. The number of Knights Grand Cross was limited to 72; 60 Military and 12 Civil. This number might be exceeded by the addition of Princes of the Blood Royal holding high Commissions in the Army and Navy. The rank required for this dignity is that of Major-General in the Army, and Rear-Admiral in the Navy. The Civilians should have rendered eminent services to the State, either in civil, or diplomatic employment. The Second Grade was not to exceed 180 in number, exclusive of foreign officers holding English Commissions, but these were, for the present, limited to 10, but might be increased. This honour was only bestowed on Lieutenant-Colonels, and Post-Captains. The Companions embraced a wide field, their number was much larger, and any one was eligible for the decoration who had received a medal, or other badge of honour, or had been mentioned by name in the London Gazette as having been distinguished by valour in action. The members now, according to Debrett for 1888, are Knights Grand Cross—50 Military, 25 Civil; Knights Commanders—123 Military, 80 Civil; Companions—690 Military, and 250 Civil.

Things matrimonial must have been very bad, for I find the record of no less than three sales of wives during this year. The first is in January: "Matrimonial Sale.—Tuesday s'en night, a man named John Osborne, who lived at Gondhurst, came to Maidstone, for the purpose of disposing of his wife by sale; but, it not being market day, the auction was removed to the sign of 'The Coal-barge,' in Earl Street, where she was actually sold to a man named William Serjeant, with her child, for the sum of one pound. The business was conducted in a very regular manner, a deed and covenant being given by the seller, of which the following is a literal copy:—

"I, John Osborne, doth agree to part with my wife, Mary Osborne, and child, to William Serjeant, for the sum of one pound, in consideration of giving up all claim whatever, whereunto I have made my mark as an acknowledgement.

"Maidstone, January 3, 1815. X"

The next case is in July: "Smithfield bargain.—One of those scenes which occasionally disgrace even Smithfield, took place there about five o'clock on Friday evening (July 14th), namely—a man exposing his wife for sale. Hitherto, we have only seen those moving in the lowest classes of society thus degrading themselves, but the present exhibition was attended with some novel circumstances. The parties, buyer and seller, were persons of property; the lady (the object of sale), young, beautiful, and elegantly dressed, was brought to the market in a coach, and exposed to the view of her purchaser with a silk halter round her shoulders, which were covered with a rich white lace veil. The price demanded for her, in the first instance, was eighty guineas, but that finally agreed on, was fifty guineas, and a valuable horse upon which the purchaser was mounted. The sale and delivery being complete, the lady, with her new lord and master, mounted a handsome curricle which was in waiting for them, and drove off, seemingly nothing loath to go. The purchaser, in the present case is a celebrated horsedealer in town, and the seller, a grazier of cattle, residing about six miles from London. The intention of these disgusting bargains is, to deprive the husband of any right of prosecution for damages."

The third example is as follows: "On Friday last (September 15th) the common bell-man gave notice in Staines Market, that the wife of —— Issey was then at the King's Head Inn, to be sold, with the consent of her husband, to any person inclined to buy her. There was a very numerous attendance to witness this singular sale, notwithstanding which only three shillings and four pence were offered for the lot, no one choosing to contend with the bidder, for the fair object, whose merits could only be appreciated by those who knew them. This, the purchaser could boast, from a long, and intimate acquaintance. This degrading custom seems to be generally received by the lower classes, as of equal obligation with the most serious legal forms." "A Sailor's frolic.—Yesterday (February 9th) morning early, a sailor who had been lately paid off, and who had been riding in a coach, about the streets, with a fiddler playing, the preceding night, strolled into Covent Garden Market, when he was asked by one of the basket women, whether he wanted anything carried for him? He replied that he wished to be carried himself, to a place where he could get some breakfast. The woman, who wanted to go home to her lodging in St. Giles's, agreed to take him in her basket, to a coffee shop at the corner of High Street; the sailor got in, first getting his pipe lighted, and sat cross-legged, smoking his pipe, in the woman's basket, which was set upon her head by others of her own fraternity. She went off, followed by a great concourse of spectators of every description, and, without once resting, took her load to its destination, when the sailor rewarded her with a pint of rum, and a pound note."

On the 17th of January died "Nelson's Lady Hamilton," whose career was a remarkable one. Born of poor parents, at a little village in Cheshire, Amy Lyons early went into domestic service. Being very beautiful, she soon attracted notice, with the usual result. After being the mistress of more than one, Mr. Greville took her under his protection, and, when he deserted her, she associated herself with that arch quack Doctor Graham, of "Celestial bed," and "earth bathing" notoriety. While with him, she posed as Hebe Vestina, a part for which her beautiful face and figure eminently fitted her. She ultimately married the celebrated virtuoso Sir William Hamilton, who was the English Ambassador at Naples. At that Court her vivacity was much appreciated, and she was the constant companion of the Queen. Of her connection with Nelson everybody knows.

During the War the farmers had coined money, in spite of their wretchedly bad farming; but the introduction of foreign wheat, and a not too plentiful harvest, brought about a state of things, of which we are now experiencing a parallel. Under date of February 13th we read: "In many counties of England, the farmers are giving up their leases in great numbers. A farm belonging to Bethlehem Hospital, which let a few years since for £1,100 per annum, and was afterwards risen to £6,000 per annum, is now offering for £4,000 per annum, but with little prospect of its being taken at that rent." Does not this read like a chapter of to-day? The rents raised until the farmers could not farm profitably, and then the land unoccupied.

"The Pig-faced lady" is to be heard of in several European countries; but, perhaps the earliest one noticed in England, although not a country woman, was Frau Tanakin Skinker. Of her, however, we only hear through the medium of a very rare book published in London in 1641 entitled, "A certain relation of the Hog-faced Gentlewoman," but of her, together with an old black-letter ballad on another damsel equally afflicted, I have already written in my book on "Humour, Wit and Satire of the Seventeenth Century."

In February, 1815, there was a widespread belief in the existence, in London, of such a monstrosity, and she is depicted in this illustration which is called "Waltzing a Courtship." There is also another engraving of her, showing her seated playing the piano, but very thinly veiled, so that her porcine countenance is plainly visible. I believe there is also another, but this I have not seen, where she is seen standing by a table, on which is her silver feeding-trough.

WALTZING A COURTSHIP.

The Times, which was not quite so matter of fact then, as now, gives the following account of "her sowship." In its issue of February 16th is the following: "There is, at present, a report in London, of a woman, with a strangely deformed face, resembling that of a pig, who is possessed of a large fortune, and, we suppose, wants all the comforts and conveniences incident to her sex and station. We, ourselves, unwittingly put in an advertisement from a young woman offering to be her companion, and, yesterday morning, a fellow transmitted to us another advertisement, attended by a one-pound note, offering himself to be her husband. We have put his offer in the fire, and shall send his money to some charity. Our rural friends hardly know what idiots London contains. The pig's face is as firmly believed in by many, as Joanna Southcot's pregnancy, to which folly it has succeeded. Though no Parson Tozer has yet mounted the rostrum to preach in support of the face, there is hardly a company in which this swinish female is not talked of; and thousands believe in her existence. The story, however, is an old one. About fifty-three years ago, it is well remembered by several elderly people, there was exactly the same rumour. It was revived, with but slight effect about thirty years since; and now comes forth again in its pristine vigour. On the original invention of the pig-faced woman about the year 1764, a man offered to make her an ivory trough to feed out of...."

The following is the advertisement referred to: it appeared in The Times of Feb. 9th. "For the Attention of Gentlemen and Ladies. A young gentlewoman having heard of an advertisement for a person to undertake the care of a lady, who is heavily afflicted in the face, whose friends have offered a handsome income yearly, and a premium for residing with her for seven years, would do all in her power to render her life most comfortable; an undeniable character can be obtained from a respectable circle of friends; an answer to this advertisement is requested, as the advertiser will keep herself disengaged. Address, post paid, to X Y, at Mr. Ford's, Baker, 12, Judd Street, Brunswick Square." The advertisement which follows is probably that rejected by The Times, but inserted in The Morning Herald of Feb. 16th. "Secrecy. A single gentleman, aged thirty-one, of a respectable family, and in whom the utmost confidence may be reposed, is desirous of explaining his mind to the friends of a person who has a misfortune in her face, but is prevented for want of an introduction. Being perfectly aware of the principal particulars, and understanding that a final settlement would be preferred to a temporary one, presumes he would be found to answer the full extent of their wishes. His intentions are sincere, honourable, and firmly resolved. References of great respectability can be given. Address to M. D., at Mr. Spencer's, 22, Great Ormond Street, Queen's Square."

Captain Gronow refers to this lady.[35] "Among the many absurd reports, and ridiculous stories current, in former days, I know of none more absurd, or more ridiculous, than the general belief of everybody in London, during the winter of 1814, in the existence of a lady with a pig's face. This interesting specimen of porcine physiognomy was said to be the daughter of a great lady residing in Grosvenor Square.

"It was rumoured that during the illuminations which took place to celebrate the Peace, when a great crowd had assembled in Piccadilly and St. James's Street, and when carriages could not move on very rapidly, 'horresco referens!' an enormous pig's snout had been seen protruding from a fashionable-looking bonnet in one of the landaus which were passing. The mob cried out, 'The pig-faced lady!—the pig-faced lady! Stop the Carriage—stop the Carriage!' The coachman, wishing to save his bacon, whipped his horses, and drove through the crowd at a tremendous pace; but it was said that the coach had been seen to set down its monstrous load in Grosvenor Square.

"Another report was also current. Sir William Elliot, a youthful baronet, calling one day to pay his respects to the great lady in Grosvenor Square, was ushered into a drawing-room, where he found a person fashionably dressed, who, on turning towards him, displayed a hideous pig's face. Sir William, a timid young gentleman, could not refrain from uttering a shout of horror, and rushed to the door in a manner, the reverse of polite; when the infuriated lady, or animal, uttering a series of grunts, rushed at the unfortunate baronet as he was retreating, and inflicted a severe wound on the back of his neck. This highly probable story concluded by stating that Sir William's wound was a severe one, and had been dressed by Hawkins, the surgeon, in South Audley Street.

"I am really almost ashamed to repeat this absurd story; but many persons now alive can remember the strong belief in the existence of the pig-faced lady, which prevailed in the public mind at the time of which I speak. The shops were full of Caricatures of the pig-faced lady, in a poke bonnet and large veil, with 'A pig in a poke' written underneath the print. Another sketch represented Sir William Elliot's misadventure, and was entitled, 'Beware the pig-stye.'"

The Annual Register, which is supposed to contain nothing but facts, is responsible for the following, under date Feb. 25th: "A foreign journal contains the following laughable anecdote of a French fiddler of the name of Boucher, who, lately, came to push his fortune in London. On his arrival at Dover, across the Channel, he had the mortification to see his fiddles seized by the officers of the Customs. It was in vain he protested that they were not articles of Commerce, but instruments for his own use; and that, if he meant to make money by them, it was, at least, not by their sale. The fiscal agents were deaf; the fiddles must pay duty. To fix the amount, their value must be estimated: and Mr. Boucher was desired to set his own value on the fiddles; he fell into the snare, and fixed a very moderate price.

"Then, in virtue of Custom-house regulations unknown to our travelling musician, they offered him 15 per cent. more than the valuation, and declared they would keep the instruments. Our artist was in despair; he complained, he prayed, he threatened, but all in vain; there was only one resource,—that of going to London to claim the interference of the French Ambassador; but, to do this, he must part from his dear fiddles, the instruments of his glory, and his fortune. He wished, at least, to bid them a last adieu, and, taking up one of them, he brought from it such melodious, but doleful sounds, as corresponded with his feelings. The Custom-house officers, attracted by the notes, formed a group round him, which gradually increased, so that the office could no longer contain the collected auditors. They begged the musician to pass into a large lobby, to which he, unwillingly, assented. There, on the top of the staircase, he performed several pieces which charmed even fiscal ears. Animated by his success, the artist surpassed even himself, and the enthusiasm of his audience was at its height, when they heard God save the King executed, with the most brilliant variations. How repay so much talent and complaisance? Everything was forgotten; even the regulations of the Custom-House. 'Sir,' said the Chief of the Customs to the French Virtuoso, 'take back your fiddles; you may boast of a finer, because a more difficult triumph than that of Orpheus. He melted only the infernal deities, but you have made the douaniers of Dover relent.'"

Here is a curious superstition which comes from a Bath paper: "A young woman, who had been married only three months, and lived at Widcomb, being summoned to answer a charge of a breach of the peace, at the instance of her mother-in-law, threw herself into the river, at Widcomb, and was drowned. Every means to discover the body have, hitherto, been ineffectual, on account of the great height of the river, through the late rains. It is curious, however, to observe some of the methods which fancy, or superstition, has suggested in order to find the body:—among others, a large drum, carried in a boat, has been beaten down the river, under the idea that its sound would alter when approaching the drowned person; and a small loaf, laden with quicksilver, has been set afloat, which, it is presumed, would be stopped in its progress, by attraction, when approaching the immersed object."

In this month of February an event occurred, which stirred Europe to its very foundation. The lion, so fondly believed to be caged at Elba, got unchained, and, leaving his petty island kingdom, on the 26th of Feb., he landed at Cannes on the 1st of March. There was consternation, to use the mildest term, all over Europe. The French king believed that he would soon be driven back; but in his advance, his army increased like a vast snowball, and poor Louis had once more to retire. The Congress at Vienna was broken up, unregretted by any one, and the Allies entered into a compact, engaging themselves not to quit the field until Napoleon was subdued. The news was not received here until the 10th of March, and the Times of next day, fairly foams over it. "Early yesterday morning, we received by express from Dover, the important, but lamentable intelligence, of a civil war having been again kindled in France, by that wretch Buonaparte, whose life was so impolitically spared by the Allied Sovereigns. It now appears that the hypocritical villain, who, at the time of his cowardly abdication, affected an aversion to the shedding of blood in a civil warfare, has been employed during the whole time of his residence at Elba, in carrying out secret and treasonable intrigues with the tools of his former crimes in France," &c.

The Newsboys in London must have reaped a rare harvest.

"Twang went the horn! 'Confound that noise!'
I cried, in pet—'these plaguy boys
Are at some tricks to sell their papers,
Their blasts have given me the vapours!'
But all my senses soon were stranded,
At hearing, 'Buonaparte's landed!'
'Landed in France!' so ran the strain,
And 'with eleven hundred men.'
'Ho, post!' 'Who calls?' 'This way.' 'I'm coming!'
'The public, surely, he is humming,'
Said I. 'A paper—what's the price?'
'A shilling.' 'Why, that's payment twice!'
'As cheap as dirt, your honour, quite;
They've sold for half-a-crown to-night.'
'But is the news authentic, friend?'
'Ofishul, sir, you may depend.—
The Currier third edition.' 'So!
Well, take your money, boy, and go.'
Now, for the news—by what blunder
Has he escaped his bounds, I wonder."

Rothschilds had the first news, one of their clerks coming express from Paris to tell them. Doubtless they took advantage of their information.

END OF VOL. I.

DÉcoration

UNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, CHILWORTH AND LONDON.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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