The celebration of the Jubilee continued — Sale of the Properties — Continuation of the Fair — Departure of Queen Caroline for the Continent — Scarcity of Gold — French prisoners of war — State of the streets — Red tape in the Navy — English visit France — The War with America — Treaty of peace with America.

The Allegorical paintings on the Temple were by Howard, Stothard, Smirke, Woodforde, Dawe, Hilton, &c.

Sadler had a really perilous voyage, for the network of his balloon got out of order and the balloon nearly collapsed; in fact, it was only saved by his hanging on to the pipe of the balloon: then, wanting to descend, the valve would not work because it was frozen, and, when it did work, did not let out the gas fast enough, and would have carried him into the river, at Sea Reach, had he not cut a gash in the balloon, and landed in Mucking Marshes, on the Essex Coast, sixteen miles below Gravesend. There was a metrical account of this fÊte, which shows the popular feeling on the subject, which was called

On the 11th of October, the Temple of Concord was sold, and the following is a contemporary account of its sale:

"The Temple of Concord, was on Tuesday, knocked down in ninety-one lots by Mr. Creaton.

"The sale commenced with the flag-staff on the top of the Upper Temple. The brokers viewed it as a common piece of fir, which might be converted into excellent firewood, and it was knocked down at 14s.

"Four rainbows, in spite of the scriptural allusions which they drew forth, produced only £4. 3s.

"Eight Vestals were sold for £14 8s.

"Eight pair of Ionic Columns coloured to imitate Sienna marble, produce £21 8s. 6d.

"The Doric columns, of which there were sixteen pairs, painted in imitation of porphyry, averaged £1 12s. 6d. per pair.

"The four pyramidal pillars (shaped like Cannon) ornamenting the corners of the first platform, were purchased by an individual, with all their appurtenances, for £16 9s.

"The Cornices, doorways, &c., with the inscriptions, on which Mr. Creaton sported many patriotic remarks, went off as follows:—

"The mechanical fountains, which are eight in number, sold for £10 16s.

"The sale of the exterior of the Temple of Concord concluded at five o'clock. It produced the gross sum of £200 2s. 6d. We should be glad to know what was the prime cost of the materials used in this structure, as well as the sum expended in preparing and setting them up."

There were, unfortunately, many accidents during the Celebration of this Jubilee. At the burning of the Pagoda one man was killed on the spot, six others injured, and one of them died shortly afterwards. The cause of the burning of this ill-fated building was that there was not room for a rocket wheel to revolve; the consequence was that the fierce fire played on one part of the woodwork and ignited the whole building. In Hyde Park, lads and men climbed the trees, whose branches would not bear their weight, but broke, and not only did the climbers injure themselves, but those on whom they fell.

At Kensington Gardens, just at the close of the fireworks, two rockets, instead of behaving properly, and rising skywards, took an horizontal direction, one striking a gentleman in the calf of his leg, the other, another gentleman in the body—and he was borne, apparently much injured, by four men, into a neighbouring marquee. The rocket sticks falling caused minor accidents, which is not to be wondered at, when we consider that they were from six to eight feet long, an inch broad, and half an inch thick.[34] However, people sheltered themselves under the trees, some in the numerous Marquees, where the safest were those under the tables—and some put their umbrellas up, as a protection.

After this fÊte, the booths were not removed, and a regular fair sprung up, with its usual accompaniments of swings, roundabouts, wild-beast shows, fat women, and dramatic entertainments, to which were added the attractions of E.O. tables—Black and White Cocks—Dice Tables—and a game with dice, called Under and over Seven. This gambling the police did not even make a show of stopping. There were donkey racing, jumping in sacks, running for smocks, &c.,—and there were printing presses, where, on payment, people had the privilege of themselves pulling off a typographical souvenir of the fair. Nay, it was even contemplated to print a Jubilee Fair Journal.

It was anticipated that this fair would last until the 12th, and so it possibly might have done, had it been conducted with anything like decency and order; but as these were conspicuously absent, Lord Sidmouth, Secretary of State for the Home Department, ordered it to be closed on the night of Saturday the 6th. This order, the booth-keepers petitioned against, on the plea that, on the strength of its being open for a longer time, they had laid in a large stock of provisions, liquor, toys, &c., which would be thrown upon their hands. Lord Sidmouth's order not being enforced, they kept on, so that it was found necessary to issue another—which was acted on—and the fair ceased with the night of August 11th.

A contemporary newspaper speaking of it, says, "Never, within the memory of man, has there been witnessed such scenes of drunkenness and dissipation as these fooleries have given rise to, and the misery they have brought upon thousands is extreme. A report from the pawnbrokers would be an awful lesson to governments how they encourage such riot. Since the delirium, from the example of the highest quarter, began, the pawnbrokers have more than trebled their business; clothes, furniture, and, worst of all, tools, have been sacrificed for the sake of momentary enjoyment; industry of every kind has been interrupted, and many hundreds of starving families will long have to remember the Æra of the Park FÊtes."

I wind up this account of the Jubilee with the following "Epigram on the P—— R——'s expressing a wish for the continuance of the Fair in Hyde Park:

And now, having exhausted the chief events of this memorable year, I must fill up my account of the remainder of its existence with notices of passing events, as they occur, a course which must naturally be discursive.

First of all, the Princess of Wales, left England for the Continent on the 9th of August, in the Jason Frigate, landing at Hamburg on the 16th. She was weary of the petty persecutions and slights she had perpetually to undergo; and, refusing to use the extra allowance granted her by Parliament, went into voluntary exile, against the advice of her sincere friends, who, however, could not feel as she did; for, in her position, she could not help feeling the social indignities that were heaped upon her. From these, at least, she could be free when away from England. She left its shores in a very modest and unassuming manner, being driven to the sea shore in a pony-cart—(the Chronicler giving, as a saving clause, "by her own coachman"). Her dress might, at the present time, perhaps, be thought rather prononcÉe, but it was only fashionable then. She wore a dark cloth pelisse, with large gold clasps, and a cap of violet and green satin, of the Prussian Hussar Costume, with a green feather, which we should think rather a fetching costume for a lady of forty-six.

We have heard of the scarcity of gold coin, and how, during the War-time it used to be smuggled out of the Country; it must have gladdened some hearts to have read, under date of August 19th, "Guineas may shortly be expected to reappear. Seven-shilling pieces, which should be considered as their avant couriers, already peep out!" Anent this lack of gold coin there was an amusing skit published thereon in this year, which I reproduce, partly for the illustration which represents a beadle in all his glory,—a being that is fast fading away. The Cocked hat has already gone, and I know not now where to find what would be termed, heraldically, "a beadle in his pride."

The following is entitled "A Whole Family Lost."

"O Yes! If any of the relatives or next of kin of one Mr. Guinea, who about the year 1800 was much seen in England, and is supposed to be an Englishman, will give information where he can be met with, they will be handsomely rewarded, on application to Mr. John Bull, Growling Lane opposite Threadneedle Street. A proportionate reward will be given for information relative to his son Mr. Half-Guinea; or his Grandson, young Seven Shilling piece. Papers innumerable have been issued in consequence of their disappearance, but all in vain; and they are believed by many persons to have left the kingdom; though others shrewdly suspect they lie hid somewhere in the Country waiting for more favourable times before they dare make their appearance, as they have reason to suppose they would be instantly taken up, and put in close Confinement. Their sudden disappearance is particularly to be regretted, as they were in great favour with the people, and enjoyed the King's Countenance to such a degree that they actually bore the Royal Arms. Notwithstanding they are people of real worth, yet it must be confessed that, by getting occasionally into bad Company, they have lost some of their weight in society, yet, if they will return, all faults will be forgiven; no questions will be asked, but they may depend upon being received with open arms by their disconsolate friends, who, by this temporary separation have learnt to appreciate their sterling worth. They resemble each other very closely, and may very easily be known by their round faces, and by their complexion, which is of bright yellow; for though they, it is true, were born, and acquired their polish in London, yet it is well ascertained that the family originally came, and derived their name, from the Coast of Guinea, a place too well known in Liverpool to require any description.

God Save the King."

"LINES SUGGESTED BY HEARING IT SAID THAT THE R—G—T WAS IN THE ARMS OF MORPHEUS.

Under date of August 31st, we find that "the number of French prisoners who have been sent to France since the conclusion of the peace, exceeds sixty-seven thousand men. It is said that only nineteen continental prisoners of war (who are Poles) now remain in this country. The American prisoners in England already amount to three thousand eight hundred. They are chiefly seamen." A newspaper cutting of September 3rd, shows us the state of the Streets of London in 1814: "The shameful manner in which the Contractors for lighting the streets perform the duty, has long been the subject of complaint. After the shops are shut, and consequently the lamps in their windows extinguished, the streets are almost in a state of utter darkness. An attempt is to be made, we observe, to light Fleet Street with gas. We hope the experiment will succeed.

"The same complaint may be made against the paving,—for the defects of the paving are more owing to the way in which the paviours do their work, than to the water companies. The stones sent from Aberdeen, are no longer square, but conical. They have a broad top, and narrow to the bottom—so that these inverted cones have no bond—and the streets being improperly laid too convex, so as to make every waggon incline to one side, the stones are constantly disturbed; and, a hole once made, every wheel increases it. The Commissioners ought to reform the system altogether."

Here is a little anecdote of red tape in the Navy: "According to an established form in the Navy, when a ship is paid off, no officer must quit the port, or consider himself discharged, until the pennant is struck, which can be done only by the cook, as the last officer, at sunset; and, should he be absent, no other person can perform the office, however desirous the Officers may be of taking their departure, and although there may not be a single seaman or marine on board. A curious instance of this took place last week, at Plymouth, on the Caledonia's being paid off. When the time arrived for hauling down the pennant, no Cook could be found, from which cause the officers were under the necessity of waiting a day or two, until he made his appearance."

Immediately on the Restoration of the Bourbons it was the proper thing for every English man and woman who could afford it, to pay a visit to Paris, and a motley group, I fancy they were, a jumble of the Aristocracy, and the Cheap Tourist. Captain Gronow thus describes this "irruption of the Goths and Vandals": "Thousands of oddly dressed English flocked to Paris immediately after the war: I remember that the burden of one of the popular songs of the day was, 'All the world's in Paris;' and our countrymen and women having been so long excluded from French Modes, had adopted fashions of their own, quite as remarkable, and eccentric as those of the Parisians, and much less graceful. British beauties were dressed in long strait pelisses of various colours; the body of the dress was never of the same colour as the skirt; and the bonnet was of beehive shape, and very small. The characteristic of the dress of the gentleman was a coat of light blue, or snuff colour, with brass buttons, the tail reaching nearly to the heels; a gigantic bunch of seals dangled from his fob, whilst his pantaloons were short, and tight at the knees; and a spacious waistcoat, with a voluminous muslin cravat and a frilled shirt completed the toilette."

The end of this year leaves the Congress of Vienna, which met to settle all International matters arising out of the war, still sitting, and I cannot refrain from quoting the following epigram upon it:

"SISTEME DU CONGRÉS.

L'Espagne est cause de tout,
L'Allemagne prÉtend tout,
La France assiste tout,
L'Angleterre embrouille tout,
La Hollande souffre tout,
Venise consulte tout,
Le Portugal Écoute tout,
La Suede a perdu tout,
Le Danemarc craint tout,
La Sardaigne trompe tout,
Les JÉsuites sont par tout,
Le Pape bÉnit tout,
Si Dieu ne pourvoit À tout,
Le Diable emporte tout."