  And, when November came, there fell Another limning in, to tell The month’s employment; which we see Providance was, for time to be. Now was the last loud squeaking roar Of many a mighty forest boar, Whose head, when came the Christmas days, Was crown’d with rosemary and bays, And so brought in, with shoutings long, And minstrelsy, and choral song. * We can now perceive the departure of “that delightful annual guest, the summer, under the agreeable alias of autumn, in whose presence we have lately been On ushering in the winter we recur to the “Mirror of the Months,” from whence we have derived so many delightful reflections, and take a few “looks” in it, for, perhaps, the last time. At this season last year it presented to us the evergreens, and now, with a “now,” we select other appearances. Now—as the branches become bare, another sight presents itself, which, trifling as it is, fixes the attention of all who see it. I mean the birds’ nests that are seen here and there in the now transparent hedges, bushes, and copses. It is not difficult to conceive why this sight should make the heart of the schoolboy leap with an imaginative joy, as it brings before his eyes visions of five blue eggs lying sweetly beside each other, on a bed of moss and feathers; or as many gaping bills lifting themselves from out what seems one callow body. But we are, unhappily, not all schoolboys; and it is to be hoped not many of us ever have been bird-nesting ones. And yet we all look upon this sight with a momentary interest, that few other so indifferent objects are capable of exciting. The wise may condescend to explain this interest, if they please, or if they can. But if they do, it will be for their own satisfaction, not ours, who are content to be pleased, without insisting on penetrating into the cause of our pleasure. Now, the felling of wood for the winter store commences; and, in a mild still day, the measured strokes of the wood-man’s axe, heard far away in the thick forest, bring with their sound an associated feeling, similar to that produced by a wreath of smoke rising from out the same scene: they tell us a tale of “Uncertain dwellers in the pathless wood.” THE WOODMAN. Far removed from noise and smoke, Hark! I hear the woodman’s stroke, Who dreams not as he fells the oak, What mischief dire he brews; How art may shape his falling trees, In aid of luxury and ease:— He weighs not matters such as these, But sings, and hacks, and hews. Perhaps, now fell’d by this bold man, That tree may form the spruce sedan; Or wheelbarrow, where oyster Nan Oft runs her vulgar rig; The stage, where boxers crowd in flocks; Or else a quack’s; perhaps, the stocks; Or posts for signs; or barber’s blocks, Where smiles the parson’s wig. Thou mak’st, bold peasant, oh what grief! The gibbet on which hangs the thief, The seat where sits the grave lord chief, The throne, the cobler’s stall. Thou pamper’st life in ev’ry stage, Mak’st folly’s whims, pride’s equipage; For children, toys; crutches, for age; And coffins for us all. C. Dibdin. The “busy flail” too, which is now in full employment, fills the air about the homestead with a pleasant sound, and invites the passer-by to look in at the great open doors of the barn, and see the wheatstack reaching to the roof on either hand; the little pyramid of bright grain behind the threshers; the scattered ears between them, leaping and rustling beneath their fast-falling strokes; and the flail itself flying harmless round the labourers’ heads, though seeming to threaten danger at every turn; while, outside, the flock of “barn-door” poultry ply their ceaseless search for food, among the knee-deep straw; and the cattle, all their summer frolics forgotten, stand ruminating beside the half-empty hay-rack, or lean with inquiring faces over the gate that looks down into the village, or away towards the distant pastures. Of the birds that have hitherto made merry even at the approach of winter, now all are silent; all, save that one who now earns his title of “the household bird,” by haunting the thresholds and window-cills, and casting sidelong glances in-doors, as if to reconnoitre the positions of all within, before the pinching frosts force him to lay aside his fears, and flit Some of the other small birds that winter with us, but have hitherto kept aloof from our dwellings, now approach them, and mope about among the house-sparrows, on the bare branches, wondering what has become of all the leaves, and not knowing one tree from another. Of these the chief are, the hedge-sparrow, the blue titmouse, and the linnet. These also, together with the goldfinch, thrush, blackbird, &c. may still be seen rifling the hip and haw grown hedges of their scanty fruit. Almost all, however, even of those singing-birds that do not migrate, except the redbreast, wren, hedge-sparrow, and titmouse, disappear shortly after the commencement of this month, and go no one knows whither. But the pert house-sparrow keeps possession of the garden and courtyard all the winter; and the different species of wagtails may be seen busily haunting the clear cold spring-heads, and wading into the unfrozen water in search of their delicate food, consisting of insects in the aurelia state. Now, the farmer finishes all his out-of-door work before the frosts set in, and lays by his implements till the awakening of spring calls him to his hand-labour again. Now, the sheep, all their other more natural food failing, begin to be penned on patches of the turnip-field, where they first devour the green tops joyfully, and then gradually hollow out the juicy root, holding it firm with their feet, till nothing is left but the dry brown husk. Now, the herds stand all day long hanging their disconsolate heads beside the leafless hedges, and waiting as anxiously, but as patiently too, to be called home to the hay-fed stall, as they do in summer to be driven afield. Now, cold rains come deluging down, till the drenched ground, the dripping trees, the pouring eaves, and the torn ragged-skirted clouds, seemingly dragged downward slantwise by the threads of dusky rain that descend from them, are all mingled together in one blind confusion; while the few cattle that are left in the open pastures, forgetful of their till now interminable business of feeding, turn their backs upon the besieging storm, and hanging down their heads till their noses almost touch the ground, stand out in the middle of the fields motionless, like dead images. Now, too, a single rain-storm, like the above, breaks up all the paths and ways at once, and makes home no longer “home” to those who are not obliged to leave it; while, en revance, it becomes doubly endeared to those who are. London is so perfect an antithesis to the country in all things, that whatever is good for the one is bad for the other. Accordingly, as the country half forgets itself this month, so London just begins to know itself again.—Its streets revive from their late suspended animation, and are alive with anxious faces and musical with the mingled sounds of many wheels. Now, the shops begin to shine out with their new winter wares; though as yet the chief profits of their owners depend on disposing of the “summer stock,” at fifty per cent. under prime cost. Now, the theatres, admonished by their no longer empty benches, try which shall be the first to break through that hollow truce on the strength of which they have hitherto been acting only on alternate nights. Now, during the first week, the citizens see visions and dream dreams, the burthens of which are barons of beef; and the first eight days are passed in a state of pleasing perplexity, touching their chance of a ticket for the lord mayor’s dinner on the ninth. Now, all the little boys give thanks in their secret hearts to Guy Faux, for having attempted to burn “the parliament” with “gunpowder, treason, and plot,” since the said attempt gives them occasion to burn every thing they can lay their hands on,—their own fingers included: a bonfire being, in the eyes of an English schoolboy, the true “beauteous and sublime of human life.” Ode to Winter. From mountains of eternal snow, And Zembla’s dreary plains; Where the bleak winds for ever blow And frost for ever reigns, Lo! Winter comes, in fogs array’d, With ice, and spangled dews; To dews, and fogs, and storms be paid The tribute of the Muse. Each flowery carpet Nature spread Is vanish’d from the eye; Where’er unhappy lovers tread, No Philomel is nigh. (For well I ween her plaintive note, Can soothing ease impart; The little warblings of her throat Relieve the wounded heart.) No blushing rose unfolds its bloom, No tender lilies blow, To scent the air with rich perfume, Or grace Lucinda’s brow. Th’ indulgent Father who protects The wretched and the poor; With the same gracious care directs The sparrow to our door. Dark, scowling tempests rend the skies, And clouds obscure the day; His genial warmth the sun denies, And sheds a fainter ray. Yet blame we not the troubled air, Or seek defects to find; For Power Omnipotent is there, And ‘walks upon the wind.’ Hail! every pair whom love unites In wedlock’s pleasing ties; That endless source of pure delights, That blessing to the wise! Though yon pale orb no warmth bestows, And storms united meet. The flame of love and friendship glows With unextinguish’d heat. November 1.All Saints. Inscriptions in Churches.A remarkable colloquy between queen Elizabeth and dean Nowell at St. Paul’s cathedral on the 1st of November, 1561, is said to have originated the usage of inscribing texts of scripture in English on the inner side of the church-walls as we still see them in many parishes. Her majesty having attended worship “went straight to the vestry, and applying herself to the dean, thus she spoke to him.” Q.Mr. Dean, how came it to pass that a new service-book was placed on my cushion? To which the dean answered: D.May it please your majesty, I caused it to be placed there. Then said the queen: Q.Wherefore did you so? D.To present your majesty with a new-year’s gift. Q.You could never present me with a worse. D.Why so, madam? Q.You know I have an aversion to idolatry and pictures of this kind. D.Wherein is the idolatry, may it please your majesty? Q.In the cuts resembling angels and saints; nay, grosser absurdities, pictures resembling the blessed Trinity. D.I meant no harm: nor did I think it would offend your majesty when I intended it for a new-year’s gift. Q.You must needs be ignorant then. Have you forgot our proclamation against images, pictures, and Romish relics in churches? Was it not read in your deanery? D.It was read. But be your majesty assured, I meant no harm, when I caused the cuts to be bound with the service-book. Q.You must needs be very ignorant, to do this after our prohibition of them. D.It being my ignorance, your majesty may the better pardon me. Q.I am sorry for it: yet glad to hear it was your ignorance, rather than your opinion. D.Be your majesty assured it was my ignorance. Q.If so, Mr. Dean, God grant you his Spirit, and more wisdom for the future. D.Amen, I pray God. Q.I pray, Mr. Dean, how came you by these pictures?—Who engraved them? D.I know not who engraved them,—I bought them. Q.From whom bought you them? D.From a German. Q.It is well it was from a stranger. Had it been any of our subjects, we should have questioned the matter. Pray let no D.There shall not. Mr. Nichols, after inserting the preceding dialogue, in “Queen Elizabeth’s Progresses,” remarks— “This matter occasioned all the clergy in and about London, and the churchwardens of each parish, to search their churches and chapels: and caused them to wash out of the walls all paintings that seemed to be Romish and idolatrous; and in lieu thereof suitable texts, taken out of the holy scriptures, to be written.” Similar inscriptions had been previously adopted: the effect of the queen’s disapprobation of pictured representations was to increase the number of painted texts. Mr. J. T. Smith observes, that of these sacred sentences there were several within memory in the old church of Paddington, now pulled down; and also in the little old one of Clapham. In an inside view of Ambleside church, painted by George Arnald, Esq. A. R. A. he has recorded several, which are particularly appropriate to their stations; for instance, that over the door admonishes the comers in; that above the pulpit exhorts the preacher to spare not his congregation; and another within sight of the singers, encourages them to offer praises to the Lord on high. These inscriptions have sometimes one line written in black, and the next in red; in other instances the first letter of each line is of a bright blue, green, or red. They are frequently surrounded by painted imitations of frames or scrolls, held up by boys painted in ruddle. It was the custom in earlier times to write them in French, with the first letter of the line considerably larger than the rest, and likewise of a bright colour curiously ornamented. Several of these were discovered in 1801, on the ceiling of a closet on the south side of the Painted Chamber, Westminster, now blocked up. Others of a subsequent date, of the reign of Edward III. in Latin, were visible during the recent alterations of the house of commons, beautifully written in the finest jet black, with the first letters also of bright and different colours. Hogarth, in his print of the sleeping congregation, has satirized this kind of church embellishments, by putting a tobacco pipe in the mouth of the angel who holds up the scroll; and illustrates the usual ignorance of country art, by giving three joints to one of his legs. The custom of putting up sacred sentences is still continued in many churches, but they are generally written in letters of gold upon black grounds, within the pannels of the fronts of the galleries. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 48·00. November 2.All Souls. Naogeorgus in his satire, the “Popish Kingdome,” has a “description which” Dr Forster says “is grossly exaggerated, like many other accounts of catholics written by protestants.” If the remark be fair, it is fair also to observe that many accounts of protestants written by catholics are equally gross in their exaggerations. It would be wiser, because it would be honest, were each to relate truth of the other, and become mutually charitable, and live like christians. How far Naogeorgus misrepresented the usages of the Romish churchmen in his time, it would not be easy to prove; nor ought his lines which follow in English, by Barnaby Googe, to be regarded here, otherwise than as homely memorials of past days. All Soulne Day. For souls departed from this life, they also carefull bee; The shauen sort in numbers great, thou shalt assembled see, Where as their seruice with such speede they mumble out of hande, That none, though well they marke, a worde thereof can vnderstande. But soberly they sing, while as the people offring bee, For to releaue their parents soules that lie in miseree. For they beleeue the shauen sort, with dolefull harmonie, To draw the damned soules from hell, and bring them to the skie; Where they but onely here regarde, their belly and their gaine, And neuer troubled are with care of any soule in paine. They to the tauerne streightways go, or to the parsons hall, Where all the day they drinke and play, and pots about do walk, &c. Old Hob.T. A. communicates that there is a custom very common in Cheshire called Old Hob: it consists of a man carrying a dead horse’s head, covered with a sheet, to frighten people. This frolic is usual between All Soul’s day and Christmas. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 47·37. November 3.The Beckford Family.On the 3d of November, 1735, Peter Beckford, Esq. died in Jamaica, worth three hundred thousand pounds. A correspondent communicates a pleasant account of a wake in Wiltshire, during the present month. Clack Fall Fair.“See, neighbours, what Joe Ody’s doing.” The township of Clack stands on an eminence which gives a view of twenty miles round a part of the most beautiful county of Wilts. Clack spring and fall Fairs were well attended formerly. They were held for horses, pigs, cows, oxen, sheep, and shows; but especially for the “hiring servants.” Hamlet’s words,—“Oh, what a falling off is here!” may not inappropriately be applied. Old Michaelmas-day is the time the fall fair is kept, but, really, every thing which constitutes a fair, seemed this year to be absent. A few farmers strolled up and down the main street in their boots, and took refuge in the hospitable houses; a few rustics waited about the “Mop” or “Statue” in their clean frocks twisted round their waists with their best clothes on; a few sellers of cattle looked round for customers, with the pike tickets in their hats; and a few maid servants placed themselves in a corner to be hired: here, there was no want of Clack, for many were raised in stature by their pattens and rather towering bonnets; and a few agriculturists’ daughters and dames, in whom neither scarcity of money nor apparel were visible, came prancing into the courts of their friends and alighting at the uppingstocks, and dashed in among the company with true spirit and bon hommie. Clack fair was worth gazing at a few years ago. When Joe Ody, Thus, fairs, amusements and the works of mortals, pass away—one age dies, another comes in its stead—but who will secure the sports of ancestry inviolate? who search into the workings of the illiterate, and hand them down to posterity, without the uncertain communication of oral tradition, which often obscures the light intended to be conveyed for information.—Thanks be to the art of printing, to the cultivation of reading, and the desire which accompanies both. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 44·40. “White Cliff—Pepper Cliff—Cliff and Cliff Ancey, Lyneham and lo—e Clack, C—se Malford November 4.King William Landed.On the day appointed for the commemoration of the landing of king William III. (who in fact landed on the 5th King William’s Peers.For the Every-Day Book. The essential services of king William III. to the cause of civil and religious liberty, his perseverance and prowess as a warrior, his shrewdness and dexterity as a statesman, adapting the most conciliatory means to the most patriotic ends, have been repeatedly dilated on, and generally acknowledged. Here, is merely purposed to be traced how he exercised one of the most exclusive, important, and durable prerogatives of an English monarch, by a brief recapitulation of such of his additions and promotions in the hereditory branch of our legislature as still are in existence. The ancestor of the duke of Portland was count Bentinck, a Dutchman, of a family still of note in Holland; he had William Henry Nassau, commonly called seigneur, or lord of Zuletstein in Holland, was another follower of the fortunes of king William; he was related to his majesty, his father having been a natural son of the king’s grandfather. He was in the year 1695 created baron of Enfield, viscount Tunbridge, and earl of Rochfort. Arnold Joost Van Keppel, another of Williams’s followers, was the second son of Bernard Van Pallant, lord of the manor of Keppel in Holland, a particular favourite of his majesty, who, soon after his accession to the throne, created him baron of Ashford, viscount Bury, and earl of Albemarle. Earl Cowper is indebted for his barony of Wingham to queen Anne, and for his further titles of viscount Fordwich, and earl Cowper, to George I.; but he derives no inconsiderable portion of his wealth from his ancestress in the female line, lady Henrietta, daughter and heiress of the earl of Grantham, descended from monsieur d’Auverquerque, who was by that prince raised to the dignity of an English earl, by the title of Grantham, being representative of an illegitimate son of the celebrated shadthalder, prince Maurice. The heroic marshal Schomberg, who fell in the memorable battle of the Boyne when upwards of eighty years of age, had previously been created by king William, a duke both in England and Ireland. His titles are extinct, but his heir general is the present duke of Leeds, who is at the same time heir male to the celebrated earl of Danby, who cuts so conspicuous a figure in the annals of Charles II., and was by William III. advanced to a dukedom. The dukedom of Bolton was conferred by William on the marquis of Winchester, whose ancestors had for a century stood enrolled as premier marquisses of England. Long before they were advanced by William III. to dukedoms, the houses of Russell and Cavendish had been noted as two of the most historical families in the English peerage. Their earldoms were respective creations of Edward VI. and James I. The individual of each house first ennobled, died possessed of the bulk of the extensive landed possessions, and strong parliamentary influence with which his representative is at the present moment invested. The character and military achievements of John Churchill stand so preeminent in the history of Europe, that it need here only be remarked that from a baron, king William conferred on him the earldom of Marlborough, again advanced by queen Anne to a dukedom, carried on by act of parliament, after his victory of Blenheim, to the issue male of his daughters, and now vested in the noble family of Spencer, earl of Sunderland. Lord Lumley, advanced to the earldom of Scarborough, was one of the memorable seven who signed the original letter of invitation to the prince of Orange. Lord Coventry, descended from a lord keeper of the great seal to Charles I., was promoted by William III. to an earldom. Sir Edward Villiers, a courtier, of the same family as the celebrated duke of Buckingham, received the earldom of Jersey. The families of Cholmondeley, Fermor, and Ashburnham, were each raised by William III. to the dignity of English barons. They were each of considerable antiquity and extensive possessions. Each was, moreover, peculiarly distinguished for devoted attachment to the cause of Charles I., even when it stood in the extremest jeopardy. These baronies are now vested respectively in the marquis of Cholmondeley, and the earls of Pomfret and Ashburnham. The possessions, the influence, the connections of the male representative of the able, the restless, the unfortunate sir Harry Vane, were still of weightier calibre. He received from king William the barony of Barnard, now vested in the earl of Darlington. P. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 43·27. November 5.Powder Plot.To keep alive the remembrance of this conspiracy, and in contemplation of its anniversary in 1826, a printed quarter sheet was published, “price one penny coloured, and one halfpenny plain.” It consists of a rude wood-cut of “a Guy,” carried about by boys, and the subjoined title with the accompanying verses. Quick’s New Speech for the On the Downfall of Guy Fawkes. Good gentlefolks, pray, Remember this day, To which your kind notice we bring Here’s the figure of sly Old villainous Guy, Who wanted to murder the king: With powder a store, He bitterly swore, As he skulk’d in the vault to prepare, How the parliament too, By him and his crew, Should all be blown up in the air. So please to remember the fifth of November, Gunpowder treason and plot; We know no reason why gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot. But James all so wise, Did the papists surprise, Who plotted the cruelty great; He guessed their intent, And Suffolk was sent, Who sav’d both the kingdom and state. With a lantern was found, Guy Fawkes under ground, And quick was the traitor bound fast: They said he should die, So hung him up high, And burnt him to ashes at last. So please to remember, &c. So we once a year, Go round without fear, To keep in remembrance the day: With assistance from you, To bring to your view, Guy Fawkes again blazing away: While with crackers and fire, In fullest desire, In his chair he thus merrily burns, So jolly we’ll be, And shout—may you see, Of this day many happy returns. So please to remember, &c. Then hollo boys! hollo boys! shout and huzza, Hollo boys! hollo boys! keep up the day, Hollo boys! hollo boys! let the bells ring, Down with the pope, and God save the king. Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! There was a publication in 1825, of similar character to the preceding. “Guy” was the subject of the cut, and the topic of the verses was a prayer for— ————“a halfpenny to buy a faggot, And another to buy a match, And another to buy some touch paper, That the powder soon may catch.” It contained the general averment— “We know no reason, Why gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot.” Though it is not requisite to relate more particulars of the “gunpowder treason” than have been already mentioned, A modern writer observes:—“It is not, perhaps, generally known, that we have a form of prayer for prisoners, which is printed in the ‘Irish Common Prayer-book,’ though not in ours. Mrs. Berkeley, in whose Preface of Prefaces to her son’s poems I first saw this mentioned, regrets the omission, observing, that the very fine prayer for those under sentence of death might, being read by the children of the poor, at least Purton Bonfire.To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. Dear Sir,—At almost every village in England, the fifth of November is regarded in a very especial manner. Some pay greater attention to it than others, but I believe it is invariably noticed by all. I have been present at Old Purton bonfire, and perhaps the following short notice of it may not be uninteresting. I before stated (col. 1207) that the green, or close, at Purton, is the spot allotted for amusements in general. This is also the place for the ceremonies on this highly important day, which I am about to describe. Several weeks before, the boys of the village go to every house begging faggots; and if they are refused they all answer together— They were once refused by a farmer, (who was very much disliked by the poor for his severity and unkindness,) and accordingly they determined to make him repent. He kept a sharp look out over his faggot pile, but forgot that something else might be stolen. The boys got into his backyard and extracted a new pump, which had not been properly fixed, and bore it off in triumph to the green, where it was burnt amidst the loud acclamations of the young rogues generally. All the wood, &c. which has been previously collected, is brought into the middle of the close where the effigy of poor Guy is burnt. A figure is made (similar to one of those carried about London streets,) intending to represent the conspirator, and placed at the top of a high pole, with the fuel all around. Previous to lighting it, poor Guy is shot at by all who have the happiness to possess guns for the purpose, and pelted with squibs, crackers, &c. This fun continues about an hour, and then the pile is lighted, the place echoes with huzzas, guns keep up perpetual reports, fireworks are flying in all directions, and the village bells merrily ring. The fire is kept up a considerable time, and it is a usual custom for a large piece of “real Wiltshire bacon” to be dressed by it, which is taken to the public-house, together with potatoes roasted in the ashes of the bonfire, and a jovial repast is made. As the fire decreases, successive quantities of potatoes are dressed in the embers by the rustics, who seem to regard them as the great delicacies of the night. There is no restraint put on the loyal zeal of these good folks, and the fire is maintained to a late hour. I remember, on one occasion, hearing the guns firing as I lay in bed between two and three o’clock in the morning. The public-house is kept open nearly all night. Ale flows plentifully, and it is not spared by the revellers. They have a noisy chorus, which is intended as a toast to his majesty; it runs thus:— My brave lads remember The fifth of November, Gunpowder treason and plot, We will drink, smoke, and sing, boys, And our bells they shall ring, boys, And here’s health to our king, boys, For he shall not be forgot. Their merriment continues till morning, when they generally retire to rest very much inebriated, or, as they term it, “merry,” or “top heavy.” I hope to have the pleasure of reading other communications in your interesting work on this good old English custom; and beg to remain, Dear Sir, &c. October 20, 1826. If the collections formerly published as Song on the Fifth of November. Some twelvemonths ago, A hundred or so, The pope went to visit the devil, And if you’ll attend, You’ll find, to a friend, Old Nick can behave very civil. How do’st do, quoth the seer, What a plague brought you here; I suppose ’twas some whimsical maggot— Come draw tow’rds the fire, I pr’thee sit nigher; Here, sirrah, lay on t’other faggot. You’re welcome to hell, I hope friends are well, At Paris, Madrid, and at Rome; But, since you elope, I suppose, honest pope, The conclave will hang out the broom. All jesting aside, His Holiness cried, Give the pope and the devil their dues; Believe me, old dad, I’ll make thy heart glad For faith I have brought thee rare news. There’s a plot to beguile An obstinate isle, Great Britain, that heretic nation, Who so slyly behav’d In hopes to be sav’d By the help of a curs’d reformation. We shall never have done If we burn one by one, Nor destroy the whole heretic race; For when one is dead, Like the fam’d hydra’s head, Another springs up in his place. Believe me, Old Nick, We’ll show them a trick, A trick that shall serve for the nonce, For this day before dinner, Or else I’m a sinner, We’ll kill all their leaders at once. When the parliament sits And all try their wits In consulting of old mealy papers, We’ll give them a greeting Shall break up their meeting And set them all cutting their capers. There’s powder enough And combustible stuff In thirty and odd trusty barrels; We’ll send them together The Lord can tell whither, And decide at one blow all their quarrels. When the king and his son And the parliament’s gone, And the people are left in the lurch, Things will take their old station In yon cursed nation And I’ll be the head of the church. These words were scarce said, When in popt the head Of an old jesuistical wight Who cried you’re mistaken They’ve all sav’d their bacon, And Jemmy still stinks of the fright. Then Satan was struck, And cried ’tis ill luck, But you for your news shall be thanked, So he call’d at the door Six devils or more And toss’d the poor priest in a blanket. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 42·32. November 6.Michaelmas Term begins. Leonard.St. Leonard is retained in the church of England calendar and almanacs, from his ancient popularity in Romish times. He is the titular saint of many of our great churches, and was particularly invoked in behalf of prisoners. A list of holydays published at Worcester, in 1240, ordains St. Leonard’s festival to be kept a half-holyday, enjoins the hearing of mass, and prohibits all labour except that of the plough. St. Leonard was a French nobleman in the court of Clovis I., where he was converted by St. Remigius, or Remy; became a monk, built an oratory for himself in a forest at Nobilac, near Limoges, lived on herbs and fruits, and formed a community, which after his death was a flourishing monastery under the name of St. Leonard le Noblat. He was remarkable for charity towards captives and prisoners, and died about 559, with the reputation of having worked miracles in their behalf. The legend of St. Leonard relates that there was no water within a mile of his monastery, “wherfore he did do make a pyt all drye, the which he fylled with water by his prayers—and he shone there by so grete myracles, that who that was in prison, and called his name in ayde, anone his bondes and fetters were broken, and went awaye without ony gaynsayenge frely, and came presentyng to hym theyr chaynes or yrens.” It is particularly related that one of St. Leonard’s converts “was taken of a tyraunt,” which tyrant, considering by whom his prisoner was protected, determined so to secure him against Leonard, as to “make hym paye for his raunsom a thousand shyllynges.” Therefore, said the tyrant, “I shall go make a ryght grete and depe pyt vnder the erth in my toure, and I shall cast hym therin bounden with many bondes; and I shal do make a chest of tree vpon the mouth of the pyt, and shall make my knyghtes to lye therin all armed; and how be it that yf Leonarde breke the yrons, yet shall he not entre into it vnder the erth.” Having done as he said, the prisoner called on St. Leonard, who at night “came and turned the chest wherein the knyghtes laye armed, and closed them therein, lyke as deed men ben in a tombe, and after entred into the pyt with grete lyght,” and he spoke to the prisoner, from whom the chains fell off, and he “toke hym in his armes and bare hym out of the toure—and sette hym at home in his hous.” And other great marvels are told of St. Leonard as true as this. The miracles wrought by St. Leonard in releasing prisoners continued after his death, but at this time the saint has ceased from interposing in their behalf even on his festival; which, being the first day of Michaelmas term, and therefore the day whereon writs issued since the Trinity term are made returnable, would be a convenient season for the saint’s interposition. This day the long vacation o’er, And lawyers go to work once more; With their materials all provided, That they may have the cause decided. The plaintiff he brings in his bill, He’ll have his cause, cost what it will; Till afterwards comes the defendant, And is resolved to make an end on’t. And having got all things in fitness, Supplied with money and with witness; And makes a noble bold defence, Backed with material evidence. The proverb is, one cause is good Until the other’s understood. They thunder out to little purpose, With certiorari, habeas corpus, Their replicandos, writs of error, To fill the people’s hearts with terror; And if the lawyer do approve it, To chancery they must remove it: And then the two that were so warm, Must leave it to another term; Till they go home and work for more, To spend as they have done before. Poor Robin. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 43·40. November 7.Origin of the London Gazette.On the 7th day of November, 1665, the first “Gazette” in England was published at Oxford; the court being there at that time, on account of the plague. On the removal of the court to London, the title was changed to the “London Gazette.” The “Oxford Gazette” was published on Tuesdays, the London on Saturdays: and these have continued, to be the days of publication ever since. The word gazette originally meant a newspaper, or printed account of the transactions of all the countries in the known world, in a loose sheet or half sheet; but the term is with us confined to that paper of news now published by authority. It derived its name from gazetta, a kind of small coin formerly current at Venice, which was the usual price of the first newspaper printed there. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 42·92. November 8.Lord Mayor of London.On this day the chief magistrate elect of the metropolis is sworn into office at Guildhall, and to-morrow is the grand festival of the corporation. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 44·27. November 9.Lord Mayor’s Day.This “great day in the calendar” of the city, is the subject of the following whimsical adaptation. Now countless turbots and unnumbered soles Fill the wide kitchens of each livery hall: From pot to spit, to kettle, stew, and pan, The busy hum of greasy scullions sounds, That the fixed beadles do almost perceive The secret dainties of each other’s watch: Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames Each table sees the other’s bill of fare: Cook threatens cook in high and saucy vaunt Of rare and newmade dishes; confectioners, Both pastrycooks and fruiterers in league, With candied art their rivets closing up, Give pleasing notice of a rich dessert. In the subjoined humorous account of a former civic procession and festival, there are some features which do not belong to the present celebrations. Lord Mayor’s Day, 1773.To describe the adventures and incidents of this important day in the city annals, it is very necessary to revert to the preceding evening. It is not now as it was formerly— “That sober citizens get drunk by nine.” Had Pope lived in the auspicious reign of George III., he would have indulged us at least two hours, and found a rhyme for eleven. On the evening of the 8th of November, the stands of several livery companies clogged the passage of Cheapside and the adjacent streets. The night was passed in erecting the temporary sheds, sacred to city mirth, ruby gills, and round paunches. The earliest dawn of the morning witnessed the industry of the scavengers; and the broom-maker was, for once, the first patriot in the city. This service done, repair we to Guildhall. At five in the morning the spits groaned beneath the ponderous sirloins. These, numerous as large, proved that the “roast beef of Old England” is still thouht an ornament to our tables. The chandeliers in the hall were twelve in number, each provided with forty-eight wax candles; exclusive of which there were three large glass lamps, two globular lamps under the giants, and wax candles in girandoles. Hustings were raised at each end of the hall for the accommodation of the superior company, and tables laid through the centre for persons of lower rank. One advantage arose from the elevation at the west end of the hall, for the inscription under Beckford’s statue was thereby rendered perfectly legible. Tables were spread in the court of king’s-bench, which was provided with one chandelier of forty-eight candles. All the seats were either matted, hung with tapestry, or covered with crimson cloth, and the whole made a very noble appearance. By eleven o’clock the windows from Blackfriars-bridge, to the north end of King street, began to exhibit such a number of angelic faces, as would tempt a man to wish for the honour of chief magistracy, if it were only to be looked at by so many fine eyes. There was scarce a house that could not boast a Venus for its tenant. At fifteen minutes past ten the common serjeant entered Guildhall, and in a few minutes the new lord-mayor, preceded by four footmen in elegant liveries of brown and gold, was brought into the hall in a superb sedan chair. Next came alderman Plomer, and then the recorder, who was so much afflicted with the gout, that it required the full exertion of his servant’s strength to support him. Mr. Alderman Thomas arrived soon after, then the two sheriffs, and lastly Mr. Crosby. There being no other alderman, Mr. Peckham could not be sworn into his office. At twenty minutes past eleven the lord mayor left the hall, being preceded by the city sword and mace, and followed by the alderman and sheriffs. The breakfast in the council chamber, at Guildhall, consisted of six sirloins of beef, twelve tureens of soup, The procession by water was as usual, but rather tedious, as the tide was contrary. The ceremonies at Westminster-hall being gone through in the customary manner, the company returned by water to Blackfriars-bridge, where the lord-mayor landed at about three o’clock, and proceeded in solemn state to Guildhall, where the tables groaned beneath the weight of solids and dainties of every kind in season: the dishes of pastry, &c. were elegantly adorned with flowers of various sorts interspersed with bay-leaves; and many an honest freeman got a nose-gay at the city expense. A superb piece of confectionary was placed on the lord-mayor’s table, and the whole entertainment was splendid and magnificent. During the absence of the lord-mayor, such of the city companies as have not barges paraded the streets in the accustomed manner; and the man in armour exhibited to the delight of the little masters and misses, and the astonishment of many a gaping rustic. The lord-mayor appeared to be in good health and spirits, and to enjoy the applausive shouts of his fellow-citizens, probably from a consciousness of having deserved them. Mr. Gates, the city marshal, was as fine as powder and ribbons and gold could make him; his horse, too, was almost as fine, and nearly as stately as the rider. Mr. Wilkes came through the city in a chair, carried on men’s shoulders, just before the procession, in order to keep it up, and be saluted with repeated shouts. The lord-mayor’s coach was elegant, and his horses (long-tailed blacks) the finest that have been seen for many years. There were a great number of constables round Mr. Alderman Townsend’s coach; and a complaint has since been made, that he was grossly insulted. The night concluded as usual, and many went home at morning with dirty clothes and bloody faces. Some recent processions on lord-mayor’s day are sufficiently described by these lines:— Scarce the shrill trumpet or the echoing horn With zeal impatient chides the tardy morn, When Thames, meandering as thy channel strays, Its ambient wave Augusta’s Lord surveys: No prouder triumph, when with eastern pride The burnished galley burst upon the tide, Thy banks of Cydnus say—tho’ Egypt’s queen With soft allurements graced the glowing scene, Though silken streamers waved and all was mute, Save the soft trillings of the mellow lute; Though spicy torches chased the lingering gloom, And zephyrs blew in every gale perfume. But soon, as pleased they win their wat’ry way, And dash from bending oars the scattered spray, The dome wide-spreading greets th’ exploring eyes, Where erst proud Rufus bade his courts arise. Here borne, our civic chief the brazen store, With pointing fingers numbers o’er and o’er; Then pleased around him greets his jocund train, And seeks in proud array his new domain. Returning now, the ponderous coach of state Rolls o’er the road that groans beneath its weight; And as slow paced, amid the shouting throng, Its massive frame majestic moves along, The prancing steeds with gilded trappings gay, Proud of the load, their sceptred lord convey. Behind, their posts, a troop attendant gain, Press the gay throng, and join the smiling train; And waving streamers close the gay career. Here too a Chief the opening ranks display, Whose radient armour shoots a beamy ray; So Britain erst beheld her troops advance, And prostrate myriads crouch beneath her lance: But though no more when threatening dangers nigh, The glittering cuisses clasp the warrior’s thigh; Aloft no more the nodding plumage bows, Or polished helm bedecks his manly brows; A patriot band still generous Britain boasts, To guard her altars and protect her coasts; From rude attacks her sacred name to shield, And now, as ever, teach her foe to yield. Mr. Alderman Wood on the first day of his second mayoralty, in 1816, deviated from the usual procession by water, from Westminster-hall to London, and returned attended by the corporation, in their carriages, through Parliament-street, by the way of Charing-cross, along the Strand, Fleet-street, and so up Ludgate-hill, and through St. Paul’s churchyard, to Guildhall: whereon lord Sidmouth, as high steward of the city and liberties of Westminster, officially protested against the lord-mayor’s deviation, “in order, that the same course may not be drawn into precedent, and adopted on any future occasion.” During Mr. Alderman Wood’s first mayoralty he committed to the house of correction, a working sugar-baker, for having left his employment in consequence of a dispute respecting wages.—The prisoner during his confinement not having received personal correction, according to the statute, in consequence of no order to that effect being specified in the warrant of committal, he actually brought an action against the lord-mayor in the court of common pleas, for nonconformity to the law. It was proved that he had not been whipped, and therefore the jury were obliged to give a farthing damages; but the point of law was reserved. On the 6th of September, 1776, the then lord-mayor of London, was robbed near Turnham-green in his chaise and four, in sight of all his retinue, by a single highwayman, who swore he would shoot the first man that made resistance, or offered violence. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 44·72. November 10.A Father’s Wishes.Richard Corbet, bishop of Norwich, wrote the following excellent lines To his Son, Vincent Corbet, On his Birth-day, November 10, 1630, What I shall leave thee none can tell, But all shall say I wish thee well I wish thee, Vin, before all wealth Both bodily and ghostly health: Nor too much wealth, nor wit, come to thee, So much of either may undo thee. I wish thee learning, not for show, Enough for to instruct, and know; Not such as gentlemen require, To prate at table, or at fire. I wish thee all thy mother’s graces, Thy fathers fortunes, and his places. I wish thee friends, and one at court, Not to build on, but support; To keep thee, not in doing many Oppressions, but from suffering any. I wish thee peace in all thy ways, Nor lazy nor contentious days; And when thy soul and body part, As innocent as now thou art. Bishop Corbet, a native of Ewell in Surrey, was educated at Westminster school, and Christchurch, Oxford; took the degree of M. A. in 1605, entered into holy orders, became doctor of divinity, In the bishop’s lines “to his son on his birth-day,” there is something of the feeling in the wise man’s supplication, “Give me neither poverty nor riches.” NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 43·72. November 11.St. Martin.The customs of this festival, which is retained in the church of England calendar and almanacs, are related under the day in last year’s volume. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 44·40. November 12.Admiral Vernon’s Birth-day.To the mention of the pageant “at Chancery-lane end,” in honour of admiral Vernon on this day, in the year 1740, Admiral Vernon’s Answer to Admiral Hosier’s Ghost.In Dr. Percy’s “Reliques of Ancient Poetry,” vol. ii. p. 376. is an admirable ballad, intituled “Hosier’s Ghost,” being an address to admiral Vernon, in Porto-Bello harbour, by Mr. Glover, the author of Leonidas. The case of Hosier was briefly this:— In April, 1726, he was sent with a strong fleet to the Spanish West Indies, to block up the galleons in the ports of that country; but being restricted by his orders from obeying the dictates of his courage, he lay inactive on that station, until he became the jest of the Spaniards. He afterwards removed to Carthagena, and continued cruizing in those seas, till far the greater part of his crews perished by the diseases of that unhealthy climate. This brave man, seeing his officers and men thus daily swept away, his ships exposed to inevitable destruction, and himself made the sport of the enemy, is said to have died of a broken heart. The ballad concludes— “O’er these waves, for ever mourning, Shall we roam, depriv’d of rest, If to Britain’s shores returning, You neglect my just request: After this proud foe subduing, When your patriot friends you see, Think on vengeance for my ruin, And for England—sham’d in me.” In 1739, vice-admiral Vernon was appointed commander-in-chief of a squadron The two houses of parliament joined in an address of congratulation upon this success of his majesty’s arms; and the nation, in general, was wonderfully elated by an exploit, which was certainly magnified much above its intrinsic merit. Hosier! with indignant sorrow, I have heard thy mournful tale And, if heav’n permit, to-morrow Hence our warlike fleet shall sail. O’er those hostile waves, wide roaming, We will urge our bold design, With the blood of thousands foaming, For our country’s wrongs and thine. On that day, when each brave fellow, Who now triumphs here with me, Storm’d and plunder’d Porto-Bello, All my thoughts were full of thee. Thy disast’rous fate alarm’d me; Fierce thy image glar’d on high, And with gen’rous ardour warm’d me, To revenge thy fall, or die. From their lofty ships descending, Thro’ the flood, in firm array, To the destin’d city bending, My lov’d sailors work’d their way. Strait the foe, with horror trembling, Quits in haste his batter’d walls; And in accents, undissembling, As he flies, for mercy calls. Carthagena, tow’ring wonder! At the daring deed dismay’d, Shall ere long by Britain’s thunder, Smoking in the dust be laid. Thou, and these pale spectres sweeping, Restless, o’er this watry round, Whose wan cheeks are stain’d with weeping, Pleas’d shall listen to the sound. Still rememb’ring thy sad story, To thy injur’d ghost I swear, By my hopes of future glory, War shall be my constant care: And I ne’er will cease pursuing Spain’s proud sons from sea to sea, With just vengeance for thy ruin, And for England sham’d in thee. As we are to-day on a naval topic, it seems fitting to introduce a popular usage among sailors, in the words of captain Edward Hall, R. N., who communicated the particulars to Dr. Forster, on the 30th of October, 1823. Crossing the Line.The following is an account of the custom of shaving at the tub by Neptune, as practised on board vessels crossing the Equator, Tropics, and Europa Point. The origin of it is supposed to be very ancient, and it is commonly followed on board foreign, as well as British ships. Europa Point at Gibraltar being one of the places, it may have arisen at the time when that was considered the western boundary of Terra Firma. On the departure of a vessel from England by either of the aforesaid routes, much ingenuity is exerted by the old seamen and their confederates to discover the uninitiated, and it is seldom that any escape detection. A few days previous to arriving at the scene of action, much mystery and reserve is observed among the ship’s company: they are then secretly collecting stale soapsuds, water, &c., arranging the dramatis personÆ, and preparing material. At this time, also, the novices, who are aware of what is going forward, send their forfeits to the captain of the forecastle, who acts as Neptune’s deputy; the forfeit is either a bottle of rum, or a dollar: and I never knew it refused, except from a cook’s mate who had acted negligently, and from a steward’s mate who was inclined to trick the people when serving provisions. On board of a man-of-war it is generally performed on a grand scale. I have witnessed it several times, but the best executed was on board a ship of the line of which I was lieutenant, bound to the West Indies. On crossing the Tropic, a voice, as if at a distance, and from the surface of the water, cried “Ho, the ship ahoy! I shall come on board:” this was from a person slung over the bows, near the water, speaking through his hands. Presently two men of large stature came over the bows; they had hideous masks on: one personated Neptune—he was naked E. H. A Sea-Piece—In Three Sonnets At night-fall, walking on the cliff-crowned shore, When sea and sky were in each other lost, Dark ships were scudding through the wild uproar, Whose wrecks ere morn must strew the dreary coast; I mark’d one well-moor’d vessel tempest-tost; Sails reef’d, helm lash’d, a dreadful siege she bore, Her decks by billow after billow cross’d, While every moment she might be no more, Yet firmly anchor’d on the nether sand, Like a chain’d lion ramping at his foes, Forward and rearward still she plunged and rose, ’Till broke her cable;—then she fled to land, With all the waves in chase; throes following throes; She ’scaped,—she struck,—she struck upon the sand. Three days had pass’d; I saw the peaceful main, One molten mirror, one illumined plane, Clear as the blue, sublime, o’er-arching sky. On shore that lonely vessel caught mine eye; Her bow was sea-ward, all equipt her train, Yet to the sun she spread her wings in vain, Like a maim’d eagle, impotent to fly, There fix’d as if for ever to abide: Far down the beach had roll’d the low neap-tide, Whose mingling murmur faintly lull’d the ear, “Is this,” methought, “is this the doom of pride, Check’d in the outset of thy proud career, Ingloriously to rot by piecemeal here?” Spring-tides return’d, and fortune smiled; the bay Received the rushing ocean to its breast; While waves on waves innumerable press, Seem’d, with the prancing of their proud array, Sea-horses, flash’d with foam, and sporting spray: Their power and thunder broke that vessel’s rest; Slowly, with new-expanding life possest, To her own element she glid away; There, buoyant, bounding like the polar whale, That takes his pastime, every joyful sail Was to the freedom of the world unfurl’d, While right and left the parting surges curl’d. —Go, gallant bark, with such a tide and gale, I’ll pledge thee to a voyage round the world! Montgomery. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 43·85. November 13.Brit. The “Bridewell Boys,” and Bartholomew and Southwark Fairs.On the 13th of November, 1755, at a court of the governors of Bridewell hospital, a memorable report was made from the committee, who inquired into the behaviour of the boys at Bartholomew and Southwark fairs, when some of them were severely corrected and continued, and others, after their punishment, were ordered to be stripped of the hospital clothing and discharged. The “bridewell-boys” were, within recollection, a body of youths distinguished by a particular dress, and turbulence of manners. They infested the streets to the terror of the peaceable, and being allowed the privilege of going to fires, did more mischief by their audacity and perverseness, than they did good by working the Bridewell engine. These disorders occasioned them to be deprived of their distinguishing costume, and put under proper arts’-masters, with ability to teach them useful trades, and authority to controul and regulate their conduct. The bridewell boys at this time are never heard of in any commotion, and may now, therefore, be regarded as peaceable and industrious lads. NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 42·85. November 14.A Trifling Mistake.The “Carbonari,” a political association in the Italian states, occasioned considerable disturbance to the continental governments, who interfered to suppress an order of persons that kept them in continual alarm: “His Holiness” especially desired their suppression. An article from Rome, dated the 14th of November, 1820, says “Bishop Benvenuti, vice-legate at Macerata, having received orders from the holy father to have all the Carbonari in that city arrested and sent to Rome, under a good escort, proceeded forthwith to execute the order. In consequence he had all the colliers by trade (Charbonniers de profession) which he could find within his reach—men, women, and children, arrested, and sent manacled to Rome, where they were closely imprisoned. The tribunal having at length proceeded to examine them, and being convinced that these Carbonari had been colliers ever since they were born, acquitted them, and sent them to their homes. Bishop Benvenuti was deprived of his employment.” NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.Mean Temperature 43·25. November 15.Machutus. Hungerford Revel, Wilts.To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. October 20, 1826. Dear Sir,—In your last week’s number of the Every-Day Book, your correspondent *,*,P. gives a short account of Blackford, the backsword-player, and also mentions one of his descendants who signalized himself at the “Hungerford revel” about two years since. In the year 1820, I visited the latter revel; perhaps a description may be acceptable to you, and amusing to your readers. I think it may be generally allowed that Wiltshire, and the western counties, keep up their primitive customs more than any counties. This is greatly to the credit of the inhabitants; for these usages tend to promote cheerful intercourse and friendly feeling among the residents in the different villages, who on such occasions assemble together. In Wiltshire I have remarked various customs, particularly at Christmas, which I have never seen or heard of in any other place. If these customs were witnessed by a stranger, I am sure he must fancy the good old days of yore, where every season brought its particular custom, which was always strictly adhered to. Wiltshire consists of beautiful and extensive downs, and rich meadow and pasture lands, which support some of the finest dairies and farms that can be met with in the kingdom. The natives are a very strong and hardy set of men, and are particularly fond of robust sports; their chief and favourite amusement is backswording, or singlestick, for which they are as greatly celebrated as the inhabitants of the adjoining counties, Somersetshire and Gloucestershire. At this game there are several rules observed. They play with a large round stick, which must be three feet long, with a basket prefixed to one end as a guard for the hand. The combatants throw off their hats and upper garments, with the exception of the shirt, and have the left hand tied to the side, so that they cannot defend themselves with that hand. They brandish the stick over the head, guarding off the adversary’s blows, and striking him whenever an opportunity occurs. Great skill is often used in the defence. I have seen two men play for upwards of half an hour without once hitting each other. The blood must flow an inch from some part of the head, before either party is declared victor. Blackford, the backsword player, was a butcher residing at Swindon; he died a few years ago. His “successor” is a blacksmith at Lyddington, named Morris Pope, who is considered the best player of the day, and generally carries off the prizes at the Hungerford revel, which he always attends. This revel is attended by all the best players in Wiltshire and Somersetshire, between whom the contest lies. To commence the fray, twenty very excellent players are selected from each county; the contest lasts a considerable time, and is always severe, but the Wiltshire men are generally conquerors. Their principal characteristics are skill, strength, and courage—this is generally allowed by all who are acquainted with them. But Hungerford revel is not a scene of contention alone, it consists of all kinds of rustic sports, which afford capital fun to the spectators. They may be laid out thus— 1st. Girls running for “smocks,” &c., which is a well-known amusement at country fairs. 2d. Climbing the greasy pole for a 3d. Old women drinking hot tea for snuff. Whoever can drink it the quickest and hottest gains the prize. 4th. Grinning through horse-collars. Several Hodges stand in a row, each holding a collar; whoever can make the ugliest face through it gains the prize. This feat is also performed by old women, and certainly the latter are the most amusing. 5th. Racing between twenty and thirty old women for a pound of tea. This occasions much merriment, and it is sometimes astonishing to see with what agility the old dames run in order to obtain their favourite. 6th. Hunting a pig with a soaped tail. This amusement creates much mirth, and in my opinion is the most laughable.—Grunter with his tail well soaped is set off at the foot of a hill, and is quickly pursued; but the person who can lay any claim to him must first catch him by the tail, and fairly detain him with one hand. This is an almost impossible feat, for the pig finding himself pulled back, tries to run forward, and the tail slips from the grasp of the holder. It is pretty well known that such is the obstinate nature of a pig, that on being pulled one way he will strive all he can to go a contrary. In illustration of this circumstance, though known perhaps to some of your readers, I may mention a curious wager a few years ago between a pork butcher and a waterman. The butcher betted the waterman that he would make a pig run over one of the bridges, (I forget which,) quicker than the waterman would row across the river. The auditors thought it impossible; the bet was eagerly accepted, and the next day was appointed for the performance. When the signal for starting was given, the waterman began to row with all his might and main, and the butcher catching hold of the tail of the pig endeavoured to pull him back, upon which the pig pulled forward, and with great rapidity ran over the bridge, pulling the butcher after him, who arrived on the opposite side before his opponent. 7th. Jumping in sacks for a cheese. An excellent caricature of jumping in sacks, published by Hunt, in Tavistock-street, conveys a true idea of the manner in which this amusement is carried on: it is truly laughable. Ten or eleven candidates are chosen; they are tied in sacks up to their necks, and have to jump about five hundred yards. Sometimes one will out-jump himself and fall; this accident generally occasions the fall of three or four others, but some one, being more expert, gets on first, and claims the prize. About ten years ago, before Cannon the prize-fighter was publicly known, as a native of Wiltshire he naturally visited the Hungerford revel. There was a man there celebrated over the county for boxing; it was said that with a blow from his fist he could break the jaw-bone of an ox; upon the whole he was a desperate fellow, and no one dared challenge him to fight. Cannon, however, challenged him to jump in sacks. It was agreed that they should jump three times the distance of about five hundred yards. The first time Cannon fell, and accordingly his opponent won; the second time, Cannon’s opponent fell, and the third time they kept a pretty even pace for about four hundred yards, when they bounced against each other and both fell, so that there was a dispute who had won. Cannon’s opponent was for dividing the cheese, but he would not submit to that, and proposed jumping again; the man would not, but got out of the sack, and during the time that Cannon was consulting some friends on the course to be pursued, ran off with the cheese. Cannon, however, pursued, and after a considerable time succeeded in finding him. He then challenged him to fight: the battle lasted two hours, and Cannon was victor. This circumstance introduced him to the sporting world. You must allow me, dear sir, to assure you, that it is not my wish to make your interesting work a “sporting calendar,” by naming “sporting characters.” I tell you this lest you should not incline to read further, especially when you see. 8th. Donkey Racing. I will certainly defy any one to witness these races, without being almost convulsed with laughter. Each candidate rides his neighbour’s donkey, and he who arrives first at the appointed 9th. Duck Hunting. This sport generally concludes the whole: it is a very laughable, but certainly a very cruel amusement. They tie a poor unfortunate owl in an upright position, to the back of a still more unfortunate duck, and then turn them loose. The owl presuming that his inconvenient captivity is the work of the duck, very unceremoniously commences an attack on the head of the latter, who naturally takes to its own means of defence, the water: the duck dives with the owl on his back; as soon as he rises, the astonished owl opens wide his eyes, turns about his head in a very solemn manner, and suddenly recommences his attack on the oppressed duck, who dives as before. The poor animals generally destroy each other, unless some humane person rescues them. Like all other Wiltshire amusements, the Hungerford revel always closes with good humour and conviviality; the ale flowing plentifully, and the song echoing loud and gaily from the rustic revellers. Although the revel is meant to last only one day, the very numerous attendants keep up the minor sports sometimes to the fourth day, when all depart, and Hungerford is once more a scene of tranquility. The revel takes place about this time of the year, but I really cannot call to my recollection the precise day. Hoping, however, that this is of no material consequence, I beg to remain, Dear Sir, &c. Earl of Warwick, the King Maker.This nobleman, who at one time is said to have entertained thirty thousand people at the boards of his different manors and estates in England, and who, when he travelled or lodged in any town, was accompanied by four or five hundred retainers, wrote on All Souls’ day the following remarkable letter for the loan of a small sum. It is divested of its ancient spelling. “To our right trusty and well-beloved Friend, Sir Thomas Toddenham. “Right trusty and well beloved friend, we greet you well, heartily desiring to hear of your welfare; and if it please you to hear of our welfare, we were in good health at the making of this letter, entreating you heartily, that ye will consider our message, which our chaplain Master Robert Hopton shall inform you of; for we have great business daily and have had here before this time, wherefore we entreat you to consider the purchase, that we have made with one John Swyffham (Southcote) an esquire of Lincolnshire, of 88l. by the year, whereupon we must pay the last payment, the Monday next after St. Martin’s day, which sum is 458l. Wherefore we entreat you with all our heart, that ye will lend us ten, or twenty pounds, or what the said Master Robert wants of his payment, as we may do for you in time for to come, and we will send it you again afore new year’s day, as we are a true knight. For there is none in your country, that we might write to for trust, so well as unto you, for as we be informed, ye be our well willer, and so we entreat you, that ye consider our intent of this money, as ye will that we do for you in time to come.... Written at London, on All Soul’s Day, within our lodging in the Grey Friars, within Newgate. “Ric. Erle Warwyke.” This letter is not dated, as to the year, but is known from circumstances to have been written before 1455. Sir Thomas Toddingham was a wealthy knight of Norfolk, who had an unfortunate marriage with one of the Wodehouses. The epistle shows the importance of ten, or twenty pounds, when rents were chiefly received in kind, and the difference between one degree of wealth and another, was exemplified by the number of a baron’s retainers. “Now,” says Burke, “we have a ton of ancient pomp in a vial of modern luxury.” “Death of the Lottery.”Introductory to particulars respecting Lotteries, two engravings are inserted, representing exhibitions that appeared in the streets of the metropolis, with the intent to excite adventure in “the last state lottery that will ever be drawn in England.” The last Stage of the last State Lottery. Enlarged illustration (400 kB). A Ballad, 1826. A lazy sot grew sober By looking at his troubles, For he found out how He work’d his woe, By playing with Lott’ry bubbles. And just before October, The grand contractors, zealous To share their last ills, With puffs and bills, Drove all the quack-doctors jealous. Paced Holborn and Long Acre, Like a funeral Not mourn’d at all, The bury’ng an undertaker. Clerks smiled, and whisper’d lowly: “This is the time or never There must be a rise— Buy, and be wise, Or your chance is gone for ever.” Yet, of the shares and tickets, Spite of all arts to sell ’em, There were more unsold Than dare be told; Although, if I knew, I’d tell ’em. And so, worn out with rickets, The last “Last Lott’ry” expired; And then there were cries— “We’ve gained a prize By the loss we’ve so long desired: “The lott’ry drew the humble Often aside from his labour, To build in the air, And, dwelling there, He beggar’d himself and neighbour. “If the scheme-makers tumble Down to their proper station, They must starve, or work, Turn thief, or Turk, Or hang, for the good o’ th’ nation.” “The Last.” lady with pipe and fish What’s the odds?—while I am floundering here the gold fish will be gone; and as I always was a dab at hooking the right Numbers, I must cast for a Share of the SIX £30,000 on the 18th July, for it is but “giving a Sprat to catch a Herring” as a body may say, and it is the last chance we shall have in England. Memorandum. The above engraving is copied from one of the same size to a lottery bill of 1826: its inscription is verbatim the same as that below the original. In after days, this may be looked on with interest, as a specimen of the means to which the lottery schemers were reduced, in order to attract attention to “the last.” COLLECTIONS RESPECTING LOTTERIES1569.—The First Lottery.Dr. Rawlinson, a distinguished antiquary, produced to the Antiquarian society, in 1748, “A Proposal for a very rich Lottery, general without any Blankes, contayning a great No of good prices, as well of redy money as of Plate and certain sorts of Merchandizes, having been valued and prised by the Commandment of the Queenes most excellent Majesties order, to the entent that such Commodities as may chance to arise thereof, after the charges borne, may be converted towards the reparations of the Havens and Strength of the realme, and towards such other public good workes. The No of lotts shall be foure hundred thousand, and no more; and every lott shall be the summe of tenne shillings sterling only, and no This is the earliest lottery of which we have any account. According to Stow, it was begun to be drawn at the west door of St. Paul’s cathedral, on the 11th of January, 1569, (11th of Elizabeth,) and continued incessantly drawing, day and night, till the 6th of May following. In 1586, 28th of the reign of Elizabeth, “A Lotterie, for marvellous rich and beautifull armor, was begunne to be drawn at London, in S. Paules churchyard, at the great west gate, (an house of timber and boord being there erected for that purpose,) on St. Peter’s day in the morning, which lotterie continued in drawing day and night for the space of two or three daies.” In 1619, 16th of James I., it appears, from the following entry in the register of charitable gifts to the corporation of Reading, that a lottery was held in that town. “Whereas at a Lottery held within the Borough of Reading, in the Year of our Ld. God 1619, Gabriel Barber Gent. Agent in the sd. Lottery for the Councell & Company of Virginia of his own good Will & Charity towarde poor Tradesmen ffreemen & Inhabitants of the sd. Borough of Reading, & for the better enabling such poor Tradesmen to support & bear their Charges in their several Places & Callings in the sd. Corporation from time to time for ever freely gave & delivered to the Mayor & Burgesses of this Corporation the Sum of forty Pounds of lawfull Money of England Upon Special Trust & Confidence, that the sd. Mayor & Burgesses & their Successors shall from time to time for ever dispose & lend these 40l. to & amongst Six poor Tradesmen after the rate of 06l. 13s. 4d. to each Man for the Term of five Years gratis And after those five Years ended to dispose & lend the sd. 40l. by Such Soms to Six other poor Tradesmen for other five Years & so from five years to five years Successively upon good Security for ever Neverthelesse provided & upon Condition that none of those to whom the sd. Summs of mony shall be lent during that Term of five years shall keep either Inn or Tavern or dwell forth of the sd. Borough, but there during that time and terme, shall as other Inhabitants of the sd. Borough reside & dwell. “Memorand. that the sd. Sum of 40l. came not into the hands & charge of the Mayor & Burgesses until April 1626.” This extract was communicated to the “Gentleman’s Magazine” in 1778, by a correspondent, who, referring to this gift of “Gabriel Barber, gent., agent in the said lottery,” says, “If it be asked what is become of it now? gone, it is supposed, where the chickens went before during the pious protectorship of Cromwell.” In 1630, 6th Charles I., there was a project “for the conveying of certain springs of water into London and Westminster, from within a mile and a half of Hodsdon, in Hertfordshire, by the undertakers, Sir Edward Stradling and John Lyde.” The author of this project was one Michael Parker. “For defraying the expences whereof, king Charles grants them a special license to erect and publish a lottery or lotteries; according” says In 1653, during the commonwealth, there was a lottery at Grocers’ Hall, which appears to have escaped the observation of the inquirers concerning this species of adventure. It is noticed in an old weekly newspaper, called “Perfect Account of the Daily Intelligence 16-23 November 1653,” by the following Advertisement. At the Committee for Claims for Lands in Ireland, Ordered, That a Lottery be at Grocers-Hall London, on Thursday 15 Decem. 1653, both for Provinces and Counties, to begin at 8 of the clock in the forenoon of the same day; and all persons concerned therein are to take notice thereof. W. Tibbs. Under Charles II., the crown, with a view to reward its adherents who resided within the bills of mortality, and had served it with fidelity during the interregnum, granted “Plate Lotteries;” by which is to be understood a gift of plate from the crown, to be disposed of in that manner as prizes, with permission to sell tickets. According to the Gazette, in April 1669, Charles II., the duke of York, (afterwards James II.,) and many of the nobility were present “at the grand plate lottery, which, by his majesty’s command, was then opened at the sign of the Mermaid over against the mews.” This was the origin of endless schemes, under the titles of “Royal Oak,” “Twelve-penny Lotteries,” &c., which will be adverted to presently. They may be further understood by an intimation, published soon after the drawing sanctioned by the royal visitors, in these words, “This is to give notice, that any persons who are desirous to farm any of the counties within the kingdom of England or dominion of Wales, in order to the setting up of a plate lottery, or any other lottery whatsoever, may repair to the lottery office, at Mr. Philips’s house, in Mermaid-court over against the mews; where they may contract with the trustees commissioned by his majesty’s letters patent for the management of the said patent, on the behalf of the truly loyal, indigent officers.” Book Lotteries.During the reign of Charles II. lotteries were drawn at the theatres. At Vere-street theatre, which stood in Bear-yard, to which there is an entrance through a passage at the south-west corner of Lincolns’-inn-fields, another from Vere-street, and a third from Clare-market, Killigrew’s company performed during the seasons of 1661 and 1662, and part of 1663, when they removed to the new built theatre in Drury-lane; and the Vere-street theatre was probably unoccupied until Mr. Ogilby, the author of the now useless, though then useful “Itinerarium AngliÆ, or Book of Roads,” adopted it, as standing in a popular neighbourhood, for the temporary purpose of drawing a lottery of books, which took place in 1668. Books were often the species of property held out as a lure to adventurers, by way of lottery, for the benefit of the suffering loyalists. Among these, Blome’s Recreations, and Gwillim’s Heraldry, first edition, may be mentioned. In the Gazette A correspondent, under the signature of “A Bibliographer,” communicates to the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” from whence the notice respecting these book lotteries is extracted, one of Ogilby’s Proposals as a curiosity, in which light it is certainly to be regarded, and therefore it has a place here, as follows:— A Second Proposal, by the author, for the better and more speedy vendition of several volumes, (his own works,) by the way of a standing Lottery, licensed by his royal highness the duke of York, and assistants of the corporation of the royal fishing. Whereas John Ogilby, esq., erected a standing lottery of books, and completely furnished the same with very large, fair, and special volumes, all of his own designment and composure, at vast expense, labour, and study of twenty years; the like impressions never before exhibited in the English tongue. Which, according to the appointed time, on the 10th of May, 1665, opened; and to the general satisfaction of the adventurers, with no less hopes of a clear despatch and fair advantage to the author, was several days in drawing: when its proceedings were stopt by the then growing sickness, and lay discontinued under the arrest of that common calamity, till the next year’s more violent and sudden visitation, the late dreadful and surprising conflagration, swallowed the remainder, being two parts of three, to the value of three thousand pounds and upward, in that unimaginable deluge. Therefore, to repair in some manner his so much commiserated losses, by the advice of many his patrons, friends, and especially by the incitations of his former adventurers, he resolves, and hath already prepared, not only to reprint all his own former editions, but others that are new, of equal value, and like estimation by their embellishments, and never yet published; with some remains of the first impressions, relics preserved in several hands from the fire; to set up a second standing lottery, where such the discrimination of fortune shall be, that few or none shall return with a dissatisfying chance. The whole draught being of greater advantage by much (to the adventurers) than the former. And accordingly, after publication, the author opened his office, where they might put in their first encouragements, (viz.) twenty shillings, and twenty more at the reception of their fortune, and also see those several magnificent volumes, which their varied fortune (none being bad) should present them. The Propositions.—First, whosoever will be pleased to put in five shillings shall draw a lot, his fortune to receive the greatest or meanest prize, or throw away his intended spending money on a blank. Secondly, whoever will adventure deeper, putting in twenty-five shillings, shall receive, if such his bad fortune be that he draws all blanks, a prize presented to him by the author of more value than his money (if offered to be sold) though proffered ware, &c. Thirdly, who thinks fit to put in for eight lots forty shillings shall receive nine, and the advantage of their free choice (if all blanks) of either of the works complete, viz. Homer’s Iliads and Odysses, or Æsop the first and second volumes, the China book, or Virgil. Of which,
The whole number of the lots three thousand, three hundred, and sixty-eight. The number of the blanks as above ordered; so that the total received is but four thousand, one hundred, and ten pounds. The office where their monies are to be paid in, and they receive their tickets, and where the several volumes or prizes may be daily seen, (by which visual speculation understanding their real worth better than by the ear or a printed paper,) is kept at the Black Boy, over against St. Dunstan’s church, Fleet-street. The adventurers may also repair, for their better convenience, to pay in their monies, to Mr. Peter Cleyton, over against the Dutch church, in Austin-friars, and to Mr. Baker, near Broad-street, entering the South-door of the Exchange, and to Mr. Roycroft, in Bartholomew-close. The certain day of drawing, the author promiseth (though but half full) to be the twenty-third of May next. Therefore all persons that are willing to adventure, are desired to bring or send in their monies with their names, or what other inscription or motto they will, by which to know their own, by the ninth of May next, it being Whitson-eve, that the author may have time to put up the lots and inscriptions into their respective boxes. D. H., one of Mr. Urban’s contributors, mentions that he had seen an undated “Address to the Learned: or, an advantageous lottery for Books in quires; wherein each adventurer of a guinea is sure of a prize of two pound value; and it is but four to one that he has a prize of three, six, eight, twelve, or fifty pounds, as appears by the following proposals:” one thousand five hundred lots, at 1l. 1s. each, to be drawn with the lots out of two glasses, superintended by John Lilly and Edward Darrel, esqrs., Mr. Deputy Collins, and Mr. William Proctor, stationer, two lots of 50l., ten of 12l., twenty of 8l., sixty-eight of 6l., two hundred of 3l., one thousand two hundred of 3l. The undertakers were: Thomas Leigh, and D. Midwinter, at the Rose and Crown, in St. Paul’s Church-yard; Mr. Aylmer, at the Three Pigeons, and Mr. Richard Parker, under the Piazza of the Royal Exchange; Mr. Nicholson, in Little Britain; Mr. Took, at the Middle Temple gate, Fleet-street; Mr. Brown, at the Black Swan, without Temple-bar; Mr. Sare, at Gray’s-inn gate; Mr. Lownds, at the Savoy gate; Mr. Castle, near Scotland-yard gate; and Mr. Gillyflower, in Westminster-hall, booksellers. Letters patent in behalf of the loyalists were from time to time renewed, and, from the Gazette of October 11, 1675, it appears by those dated June 19, and December 17, 1674, there were granted for thirteen years to come, “all lotteries whatsoever, invented or to be invented, to several truly loyal and indigent officers, A Penny Lottery.The most popular of all the schemes was that drawn at the Dorset-garden theatre, near Salisbury-square, Fleet-street, with the capital prize of a thousand pound for a penny. The drawing began October 19, 1698; and, in the Protestant Mercury of the following day, “its fairness (was said) to give universal content to all that were concerned.” In the next paper is found an inconsistent and frivolous story, as to the possessor of the prize: “Some time since, a boy near Branford, going to school one morning, met an old woman, who asked his charity; the boy replied, he had nothing to give her but a piece of bread and butter, which she accepted. Some time after, she met the boy again, and told him she had good luck after his bread and butter, and therefore would give him a penny, which, after some years’ keeping, would produce many pounds: he accordingly kept it a great while; and at last, with some friend’s advice, put it into the penny lottery, and we are informed that on Tuesday last the said lot came up with 1000l. prize.” However absurd this relation appears, it must be recollected those to whom it was principally addressed had given proof of having sufficient credulity for such a tale, in believing that two hundred and forty thousand shares could be disposed of and appropriated to a single number, independent of other prizes. The scheme of the “Penny Lottery” was assailed in a tract, intituled “The Wheel of Fortune, or Nothing for a Penny; being remarks on the drawing of the Penny Lottery at the Theatre Royal, in Dorset-Garden,” 1698, 4to. Afterwards at this theatre there was a short exhibition of prize-fighters; and the building was totally deserted in 1703. In 1698-9, schemes were started, called “The Lucky Adventure; or, Fortunate Chance, being 2000l. for a groat, or 3000l. for a shilling:” and “Fortunatus, or another adventure of 1000l. for a penny:” but purchasers were more wary, and the money returned in both cases.—The patentees also advertised against the “Marble-board, alias the Woollich-board lotteries; the Figure-board, alias the Whimsey-board, and the Wyreboard lotteries.” These patents of the Restoration seem to have occasioned considerable strife between the parties who worked under them. The following verses from “The Post Boy, January 3, 1698,” afford some insight to their estimation among sensible people:— A Dialogue betwixt the New New Lott. To you, the mother of our schools, Where knaves by licence manage fools, Finding fit juncture and occasion, To pick the pockets of the nation; We come to know how we must treat ’em, And to their heart’s content may cheat ’em. Oak. It cheers my aged heart to see So numerous a progeny; I find by you, that ’tis heaven’s will That knavery should flourish still. You have docility and wit, And fools were never wanting yet. Observe the crafty auctioneer, His art to sell waste paper dear; When he for salmon baits his hooks, That cormorant of offal books, Who bites, as sure as maggots breed, Or carrion crows on horse-flesh feed; Fair specious titles him deceive, To sweep what Sl—— and T——n leave. If greedy gulls you wou’d ensnare, Make ’em proposals wondrous fair; Tell him strange golden show’rs shall fall, And promise mountains to ’em all. New Lott. That craft we’ve already taught, And by that trick have millions caught; Books, bawbles, toys, all sorts of stuff, Have gone off this way well enough. Nay, music, too, invades our art, And to some tune wou’d play her part. I’ll show you now what we are doing, For we have divers wheels agoing. We now have found out richer lands Than Asia’s hills, or Afric’s sands, And to vast treasures must give birth, Deep hid in bowels of the earth; In fertile Wales, and God knows where, Rich mines of gold and silver are, From whence we drain prodigious store Of silver coin’d, tho’ none in ore, Which down our throats rich coxcombs pour, In hopes to make us vomit more. Oak. This project surely must be good, Because not eas’ly understood: Besides, it gives a mighty scope To the fool’s argument—vain hope. Thro’ hope thus back’d by mystery. New Lott. We have, besides, a thousand more, For great and small, for rich and poor, From him that can his thousands spare, Down to the penny customer. Oak. The silly mob in crowds will run, To be at easy rates undone. A gimcrack-show draws in the rout, Thousands their all by pence lay out. New Lott. We, by experience, find it true, But we have methods wholly new, Strange late-invented ways to thrive, To make men pay for what they give, To get the rents into our hands Of their hereditary lands, And out of what does thence arise, To make ’em buy annuities. We’ve mathematic combination, To cheat folks by plain demonstration, Which shall be fairly manag’d too, The undertaker knows not how. Besides —— Oak. Pray, hold a little, here’s enough, To beggar Europe of this stuff. Go on, and prosper, and be great, I am to you a puny cheat. The “Royal-Oak Lottery,” as the rival if not the parent of the various other demoralizing schemes, obtained the largest share of public odium. The evils it had created are popularly set forth in a remarkable tract, entitled “The Arraignment, Trial, and Condemnation of Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, London, 1699,” 8vo. The charges against the offender are arrayed under the forms imported by the title-page. The following extracts are in some respects curious, as exemplifying the manners of the times:— Die LunÆ vicesimo die Martii 1698/9. Anno Regni, &c. At the Time and Place appointed, came on the Trial of Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, for abundance of intolerable Tricks, Cheats, and high Misdemeanours, upon an Indictment lately found against him, in order to a National Delivery. About ten of the Clock, the day and year abovesaid, the Managers came into the Court, where, in the presence of a vast confluence of People of all Ranks, the Prisoner was ordered to the Bar. Proclamation being made, and a Jury of good Cits which were to try the Prisoner being sworn, the Indictment against Squire Lottery alias Royal-Oak Lottery, was read. The Jurors’ Names. Mr. Positive, a Draper in Covent Garden. Cl. of Ma. Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, you stand Indicted by the Name of Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, for that you the said Squire Lottery, not having the Fear of God in your Heart; nor weighing the Regard and Duty you owe, and of right ought to pay to the Interest, Safety, and Satisfaction of your Fellow-Subjects; have from time to time, and at several times, and in several places, contrary to the known Laws of this Kingdom, under the shadow and coverture of a Royal Oak, propagated, continued, and carried on a most unequal, intricate, and insinuating Game, to the utter ruin and destruction of many thousand Families: And that you the said Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, as a common Enemy to all young People, and an inveterate Hater of all good Conversation and Diversion, have, for many years last past, and do still continue, by certain cunning Tricks and Stratagems, insidiously, falsely, and impiously, to trepan, deceive, cheat, decoy, and entice divers Ladies, Gentlemen, Citizens, Apprentices, and others, to play away their Money at manifest Odds and Disadvantage. And that you the said Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, the more secretly and effectually to carry on and propagate your base, malicious, and covetous Designs and Practices, did, and do still encourage several lewd and disorderly Persons, to meet, propose, treat, consult, consent, and agree upon several unjust and illegal Methods, how to ensnare and entangle People into your delusive Game; by which means you have, for many years last past, utterly, intirely, and irrecoverably, contrary to all manner of Justice, Humanity, or good Nature, Lottery. Not Guilty. But, before I proceed to make my Defence, I beg I may be permitted the assistance of three or four learned Sharpers to plead for me, in case any Matter of Law arise. This being assented to, the Managers of the Prosecution made their speeches in support of the Charge, and called Captain Pasthope. 1st Man. Sir, Do you know Squire Lottery, the Prisoner at the Bar? Pasthope. Yes, I have known him intimately for near forty years; ever since the Restoration of King Charles. 1st Man. Pray will you give the Bench and Jury an Account what you know of him; how he came into England, and how he has behaved himself ever since. Pasthope. In order to make my Evidence more plain, I hope it will not be judg’d much out of form, to premise two or three things. 1st Man. Mr. Pasthope, Take your own method to explain yourself; we must not abridge or direct you in any respect. Pasthope. In the years 60 and 61, among a great many poor Cavaliers, ’twas my hard fate to be driven to Court for a Subsistence, where I continued in a neglected state, painfully waiting the moving of the Waters for several months; when at last a Rumour was spread, that a certain Stranger was landed in England, that in all probability, if we could get him the Sanction of a Patent, would be a good Friend to us all. Man. You seem to intimate as if he was a Stranger; pray, do you know what Countryman he was? Pasthope. The report of his Country was very different; some would have him a Walloon, some a Dutchman, some a Venetian, and others a Frenchman; indeed by his Policy, cunning Design, Forethought, &c. I am very well satisfied he could be no Englishman. Man. What kind of Credentials did he bring with him to recommend him with so much advantage? Pasthope. Why, he cunningly took upon him the Character of a Royal-Oak Lottery, and pretended a mighty Friendship to antiquated Loyalists: but for all that, there were those at Court that knew he had been banish’d out of several Countries for disorderly Practices, till at last he pitch’d upon poor easy credulous England for his Refuge. Man. You say then, he was a Foreigner, that he came in with the Restoration, usurp’d the Title of a Royal Oak, was establish’d in Friendship to the Cavaliers, and that for disorderly Practices he had been banish’d out of several Countries; till at last he was forc’d to fix upon England as the fittest Asylum. But pray, Sir, how came you so intimately acquainted with him at first? Pasthope. I was about to tell you. In order to manage his Affairs, it was thought requisite he should be provided with several Coadjutors, which were to be dignify’d with the Character of Patentees; amongst which number, by the help of a friendly Courtier, I was admitted for one. Man. Oh! then I find you was a Patentee. Pray, how long did you continue in your Patentee’s Post? and what were the Reasons that urg’d you to quit it at last? Pasthope. I kept my Patentee’s Station nine years, in which time I had clear’d 4000l., and then, upon some Uneasiness and Dislike, I sold it for 700l. Man. Pray, Captain, tell the Court more fully what was the Reason that prevail’d with you to relinquish such a profitable place. Pasthope. I had two very strong Reasons for quitting my Post; viz. Remorse of Conscience, and Apprehension of consequent Danger. To tell you the truth, I saw so many bad Practices encourag’d and supported, and so many persons of both Sexes ruin’d; I saw so much Villany perfected and projected, and so many other intolerable Mischiefs within the compass of every day’s Proceeding, that partly through the stings of my Mind and the apprehensions I was under of the Mob, with a great deal of Reluctancy I quitted my Post. Man. Captain, I find you’re nicely qualify’d for an Evidence, pray, therefore, give the Court an Account what Methods the Prisoner us’d to take to advance his business. Pasthope. The way in my time, and I suppose ’tis the same still, was to send out Sharpers and Setters into all parts of the Town, and to give ’em direction to magnify the Advantage, Equality, and Justice of his Game, in order to decoy Women and Fools to come and play away their Money. Man. Well, but sure he had no Women or Fools of Quality, Rank, or Reputation, that came to him? According to the common Report that passes upon him, there’s none but the very Scoundrels and Rabble, the very Dregs and Refuse of Fools, will think him worth their Conversation. Pasthope. Truly, he had ’em of all sorts, as well Lord-fools and Lady-fools, Knight-fools and Esquire-fools, or any other sort of Fools: and, indeed, he made no difference between ’em neither; a Cobler-fool had as much respect as a Lord-fool, in proportion to the money he had in his Pocket; and pro hac vice had as extensive a Qualification to command, domineer, and hector, as the best Fool of ’em all. Man. Did you never observe any of these Fools to get any money of him? I can’t imagine what it could be that could influence ’em to embark with him, if there was nothing to be got. Pasthope. There was never any body that ever got any thing of him in the main: now and then one by chance might carry off a small matter; and so ’twas necessary they should, for otherwise his Constitution must dissolve in course. Man. ’Tis a great mystery to me, that so many People should pursue a Game where every body’s a Loser at last; but pray, Captain, then, what are the odds the Prisoner is reputed to have against those that play with him? Pasthope. No body can tell you their Advantage; ’tis a cunning intricate Contexture, and truly I very much question whether the original Projector himself had a perfect Idea of the Odds: at a full Table and deep Play, I have seen him clear 600l. in less than an hour. Man. What are the Odds he owns himself? Pasthope. Only 32 Figures against 27, which indeed is Odds enough to insure all the money at length. But this, it seems, was an Advantage that was allow’d him, that he might be able to keep a good House, relieve the Poor, and pay an annual Pension to the Crown or the Courtiers. Man. You say, by his original Agreement he’s to keep a good House: pray after all, what sort of House is it he does keep? Past. Why, he dines at the Tavern, where any body that has 40 or 50l. to play away with him the Afternoon, may be admitted into his Company. Man. What, does he entertain none but those that have 40 or 50l. to lose? Past. He never converses with any Person that has no money: if they have no money, their Company’s burdensom and ungrateful, and the Waiters have Directions to keep ’em out. Man. Does he do this to the very Persons he has ruin’d, and won all they have? That, methinks, is a pitch of Barbarity beyond the common degree: I hardly ever read or heard of any thing so exaltedly cruel and brutish, in all the Accounts of my Life. Past. I have seen abundance of Examples of this nature, one, in particular, which I shall never forget; a poor Lady, that had lost 350l. per annum to him, beside two or three thousand pounds in ready money, basely and inhumanly hal’d out of doors, but for asking for a glass of Sack. Man. You were mentioning his Charity to the Poor too; is there any thing of reality in that? Past. For my part, I never heard of one good Act he has done in the whole course of his Life: secret Charity is the most meritorious, ’tis true; and perhaps it may be that way he may communicate his, for indeed I never heard of any he did in publick. Man. You were mentioning too an annual Pension to the Crown; what is it he pays to the Crown? Past. Indeed I cannot be positive in that: to the best of my remembrance ’tis four thousand pounds per annum: in compensation for which, beside the general liberty he has to cheat and abuse the World, he has the sole Privilege of Licensing all other Cheats and Impostors, commonly known by the Name of Lotteries. 2d Man. You were speaking something, Captain Pasthope, just now, as if the Prisoner was intrusted with these Advantages for the benefit of some poor Cavaliers, which were to be the Patentees, as you call ’em. Pray tell the Jury what kind of Cavaliers these Patentees were. Past. That was all but a Blind, a pure Trick to deceive the World: the Patentees, in the main, were either Sharpers or broken Tradesman, or some such sort or Man. Pray, what Opinion had the World of the Prisoner when he first came to be known in England? Pasthope. The same that it has of him now: all wise men look’d upon him as a Cheat, and a dangerous Spark to be let loose in publick among our English Youth: and indeed I have heard a great many sober men pass very sharp Censures upon the Wisdom of the Court for intrusting him with a Royal Authority. Man. What kind of Censures were they that they past? do you remember any of them particularly? Past. Yes, I remember several things that I am almost ashamed to mention. I have heard ’em often reflecting what an intolerable Shame and Scandal it was, that a whole Kingdom should be sacrificed to the Interest of two or three Courtiers, and three or four scurvy mercenary Patentees; that so many thousand Families should be ruin’d, and no notice taken of it; that so many Wives should be seduc’d to rob and betray their Husbands, so many Children and Servants their Parents and Masters, and so many horrid Mischiefs transacted daily under the shadow of this pretended Royal-Oak Lottery, and no manner of means used to suppress it. 2d Man. But, Captain, did you never hear of any Person that got money of the Prisoner in the main? Past. Not one. I defy him to produce one single person that’s a Gainer, against a hundred thousand he has ruin’d. I’m confident I have a Catalogue by me of several thousands that have been utterly undone by him, within the compass of my own Experience. Man. What does the Town in general say of him? Past. The town, here-a-late, is grown so inveterate and incens’d against him, that I am very well assur’d that if he had not been call’d to account in the very nick, the Mob would have speedily taken him into their correction. Man. Well, Sir, you hear what the Witness has said against you; will you ask him any Questions? Lottery. Only one; and leave the rest till I come to make my general Defence. Sir, I desire to know whether you was not one that was turn’d out upon the last Renewal of the Patent? Past. No, Sir, I was not. You might have remember’d that I told you I saw so much of your Falshood and Tricks, and so many innocent People daily sacrific’d, to support a Society of lewd, debauch’d, impertinent, and withal imperious Cannibals, that I thought it my best way to quit your Fraternity, and pack off with that little I had got, and leave you to manage your mathematical Balls, &c. by your self. Man. I suppose, Sir, you will ask him no more Questions, and so we’ll call another Witness. Lottery. No, Sir, I have done with him. Man. Call Squire Frivolous, the Counsellor: Sir, do you know Squire Lottery, the Prisoner? Frivolous. I have been acquainted with him several years, to my great Cost and Damage. The first time I had the misfortune to know him, was at an Act at Oxford about twenty years ago; where among abundance of other young Fools that he entic’d to sell their Books for Money to play with him, &c. I was one. Man. What, I hope, he was not so barbarous as to decoy the poor young Gentlemen out of their Books? Frivolous. Yes, out of every thing they had, and out of the College to boot: For my own part I have reason to curse him, I’m sure; He flatter’d me up with so many Shams and false Pretences, and deluded me with so many chimerical Notions and cunning Assurances, and urg’d me so long from one deceitful Project to another, till at last he had trickt me out of all I had in the world, and then turn’d me over to the scorn and laughter of my Friends and Acquaintance. Man. Can you give the Bench any particular Names of Persons he has ruin’d? Frivolous. I have a Collection of Names in my Pocket, which I’m sure he can’t object against, that have lost fourteen or fifteen thousand Pound per Annum, within my own Knowledg and Acquaintance. Man. That’s a round Sum: But, pray, Mr. Frivolous, for the satisfaction of the Jury, mention a few of their Names. Frivolous. I suppose, Squire Lottery, you must remember the Kentish Squire in the Blue Coat, that you won the six hundred Pound per Annum of, in less than five months. You remember the Lord’ Steward that lost an Estate of his own of three hundred Pound per Annum, and run Lottery. I desire that he may be ask’d, what it was that influenc’d him at first to make such a Catalogue? Man. He desires to know upon what account it was that you made this Collection of Names? Frivolous. I had once a design to have him call’d to an Account, and forc’d to a Restitution; in which case I thought the Names of these Persons might be of some use to me. Man. What Method did you propose to your self to bring him to a Restitution? Frivolous. I had a Notion, that if I drew up the Case, and got it recommended to the Honourable House of Commons, they would have thought the Prisoner worth their correction: But this he got intelligence of, and employ’d one of his Agents to make up the matter with me. Man. What, I suppose you mean he brib’d you with a Sum of Money to decline the Prosecution? Frivolous. Truly you have hit of the very thing; he knew that I was poor, and he was guilty, and so compounded with me for a few Guineas to let the thing fall: And indeed, if I am not misinform’d, his Art of Bribing, &c. has guarded him so long from the Punishments which the Laws of the Land, and common Justice, have provided for such notorious Offenders. Other witnesses having been called, the arraigned defended himself as follows:— Lottery. Sir, I intend to spend as little of your time as I can: I perceive, that, let me say what I will, you are prepar’d to over-rule it, and so I’ll only say a few words, and call three or four Witnesses to prove my reputation, and then leave the good Men and true of the Jury, upon whose Verdict I must stand or fall, to use me as they shall best judg the nature of my Case deserves. I know, Gentlemen, the tide of Prejudice runs very fierce against me; so that let me say what I will, I’m satisfy’d it will be all to very little purpose; an ill Name to a Person in my condition is certain Death, which indeed makes me a little more indifferent in making my defence. But, Gentlemen, look upon me, I am the very Image of some of you, a married Protestant; upon which account I’m confident I may rely upon a little of your Justice, if not your Favour. The Crimes I am charged with are indeed very great, and, what’s worse, there’s some of ’em I can never expect to evince. But then, Gentlemen, I hope you’l consider, that whatever I did, was purely in the prosecution of my occupation; and you know withal what Authority I had for it; so that if by chance, in this long tract of time, every thing should not be so nicely conformable as you expect, I hope you’l take care to lay the Saddle upon the right Horse. You all know that Covetousness and Cheating are the inseparable Companions of a Gamester; divide him from them, and he’s the most insignificant Creature in Nature. And, Gentlemen, I appeal to your selves, if a little useful lying and falshood be not (in some cases) not only tolerable, but commendable. I dare say you will agree with me in this, that if all the Knaves and Cheats of the Nation were call’d to the Bar and executed, there would only be a few Fools left to defend the Commonwealth. But, Gentlemen, as I told you before, I won’t spend your time, and therefore I’ll call my Witnesses. Call Captain Quondam. Cryer. Call Capt. Quondam. Lottery. Sir, I desire you would give the Court an account what you know of me, as to Life and Conversation. Quondam. I have known the Prisoner for several years, and have been often in his company upon particular occasions Man. Pray, noble Captain, what Countryman are you? Quondam. Sir, I am a West-Countryman. Man. An English West-Country, or a West-India Man? or what? Quondam. I am a West-Countryman of his Majesty’s own Dominions, of the Kingdom of Ireland, in the County of Cork, and Parish of Durrus in the Barony of West-Carbury, near the great Bogg of Longuar, Gent. Man. You’re a West-Countryman with a Witness. And, pray, how long have you been in England? Quondam. Ever since the last year of my Soveraign Lord King James. Man. And, pray, how long have you been a Captain? Quondam. I was born so; my Father, my Grandfather, great Grandfather, and most of my Kin, were all Captains before me. Man. You say you have been often in the Prisoner’s Company; pray where have you been in his Company, and upon what account? Quondam. I have been in his Company at Epsom, Tunbridge, Lambeth, Islington, and at several other places both in Town and Country. Man. Well, but you ha’n’t told what was the occasion that brought you so oft into his Company. Quondam. He desired me to go along with him to help him to divert and entertain his Guests, especially the Ladies that us’d to visit him. Man. I suppose you’re one of his Dependents: had you never no salary from him? Quondam. I have had several Favours from him, and I must own I love him very well; and, by my Shoul, I believe he’s a very honest Man, and a good Christian. Man. Who’s your next evidence? Lottery. I desire Mr. Scamper may be call’d. Cry. Call Mr. Scamper. Lottery. Pray, Mr. Scamper, give the Court an Account what you know of me, as to my manner of living and behaviour in the World. Scamper. You know, Squire Lottery, your Acquaintance and mine is but of a late Date; I never saw you till last May at Lambeth Wells, and then ’twas but by accident too. After other witnesses called in his behalf, whose testimony, however, tended to inculpate Squire “Royal Oak,” the evidence was summed up. “Then the jury withdrew to consider of their verdict, and afterwards they returned into the court, and the prisoner was brought again to the bar and found guilty, according to the indictment, and afterwards received sentence, together with Mr. Auction and Dr. Land-Bank, who were both tryed, convicted, and condemned; and their trials will be published with all possible speed. Finis.” There is no reason to doubt, that the representations in the preceding satire are substantially correct. Private and fallacious lotteries were at this time become so general, not only in London, but in most other great cities and towns of England, whereby the lower people and the servants and children of good families were defrauded, that an act of parliament was therefore passed 10 and 11 William III. c. 17, for suppressing such lotteries; “even although they might be set up under colour of patents or grants under the great seal. Which said grants or patents,” says the preamble “are against the common good, welfare, and peace of the kingdom, and are void and against law.” A penalty therefore of five hundred pounds was laid on the proprietors of any such lotteries, and of twenty pounds on every adventurer in them. Notwithstanding this, the like disposition to fraud and gaining prevailed again, till fresh laws were enacted for their suppression. It is observed, that if the lottery office keepers of the present century could be credited, their adventurers enjoyed greater gaming privileges than the world ever produced; and yet it is an indubitable fact, that in the early state lotteries the advantages offered were eminently superior to those of recent times. The Post Boy of December 27 says, “We are informed that the parliamentary lottery will be fixed in this manner:—150,000 tickets will be delivered out at 10l. each ticket, making in all the sum of 1,500,000l. sterling; the principal whereof is to be sunk, the parliament allowing nine per cent. interest for the whole during the term of thirty-two years, which interest The rage for lotteries reigned uncontrolled; and the newspapers of the day teemed with proposals issued by every ravenous adventurer who could collect a few valuable articles; and from those, shopkeepers took the hint, and goods of every description were converted into prizes, even neckcloths, snuff-boxes, toothpick-cases, linen, muslin, and plate. The prices of tickets were generally sixpence, a shilling, half a crown, &c. At the latter end of the year just mentioned, the magistrates, being alarmed, declared their intention of putting the act of William and Mary in force, which levied a penalty of 500l. on the proprietor, and 20l. on each purchaser. Matthew West, a goldsmith, of Clare-street, Clare-market, appears to have been the man who first divided lottery tickets into shares. He advertised, in 1712, that he had sold 100 tickets in the million and an half lottery in twentieths, and purposed pursuing his plan, which was well received. The lottery for 1714 contained 50,000 tickets at 10l. each, with 6982 prizes and 43,018 blanks; two of the former were 10,000l., with one of 5, another of 4000l., a third of 3000l., and a fourth of 2000l., five of 1000l., ten of 500l., twenty of 200l., fifty of 100l., four hundred of 50l., and six thousand, four hundred, and ninety-one of 20l. Besides the drawing for prizes and blanks, there was another for the course of payment, and each 1000 tickets was called a course. The payments to the receivers were on the 10th of November and 10th of December, 1713. When the tickets were drawn, they were exchanged for standing orders, and thus rendered assignable by endorsement; all the blanks were repaid the 10l. per ticket at one payment, in the order their course of payment happened to fall, and they bore an interest of four per cent. from Michaelmas 1713. The prizes were payable in the same manner: the first drawn ticket had 500l.; the last 1000l. besides the general chance; 35,000l. per annum was payable weekly from the Exchequer to the paymaster for the discharge of the principal and interest, and the whole funds of the civil list were chargeable for thirty-two years for 35,000l. per annum. One of the schemes which preceded the bubbles of 1720 was an insurance-office for lottery tickets, opened at Mercers-hall; and 120,000l. was actually subscribed on the following terms: for every ninety-six tickets insured, the proprietors agreed to allow to the company (after the tickets were drawn) 16s. per ticket, and five per cent. on such prizes as occurred to the ninety-six tickets, the company returning the tickets, and in case the prizes did not amount to 288l. valuing the prizes at par; the company to make up the money 3l. for every ticket. For every forty-eight tickets the proprietors agreed to allow 19s. per ticket, and five per cent. on the prizes as above; the company making up the tickets 144l. or 3l. per ticket, and so on down to twelve tickets. The proprietors of the tickets to advance no money for this security; but, when drawn, to allow as above; the tickets to be deposited with the company, and placed by them under seal in the bank of England; if not called for in ninety days after the drawing, to be forfeited. In 1712, gambling prevailed in smaller private and unlawful lotteries, under the denomination of sales of gloves, fans, cards, plate, &c.; also offices were opened for insurances on marriages, births, christenings, services, &c. and daily advertisements thereof were published in the newspapers. By an act of the tenth of queen Anne, keepers of these lotteries Lucky Numbers.The attention of “the Spectator” was directed to the lottery mania prevailing at this period. One of its writers observing, on the predilection for particular numbers, ranks it among the pastimes and extravagancies of human reason, which is of so busy a nature, that it will exert itself on the meanest trifles, and work even when it wants materials. He instances, that when a man has a mind to adventure his money in a lottery, every figure of it appears equally alluring, and as likely to succeed as any of its fellows. They all of them have the same pretensions to goodluck, stand upon the same foot of competition; and no manner of reason can be given, why a man should prefer one to the other, before the lottery is drawn. In this case therefore, caprice very often acts in the place of reason, and forms to itself some groundless imaginary motive, where real and substantial ones are wanting. I know a well-meaning man that is very well pleased to risk his good fortune upon the number 1711, because it is the year of our Lord. I am acquainted with a tacker that would give a good deal for the number 134. On the contrary, I have been told of a certain zealous dissenter, who being a great enemy to popery, and believing that bad men are the most fortunate in this world, will lay two to one on the number 666 against any other number; because, says he, it is the number of the beast. Several would prefer the number 12000 before any other, as it is the number of the pounds in the great prize. In short, some are pleased to find their own age in their number; some that they have got a number which makes a pretty appearance in the cyphers; and others, because it is the same number that succeeded in the last lottery. Each of these, upon no other grounds, thinks he stands fairest for the great lot, and that he is possessed of what may not be improperly called the golden number. I remember among the advertisements in the “Post Boy” of September the 27th, I was surprised to see the following one: This is to give notice, that ten shillings over and above the market-price will be given for the ticket in the 1500000l. Lottery, No 132, by Nath. Cliff, at the Bible and Three Crowns in Cheapside. This advertisement has given great matter of speculation to coffee-house theorists. Mr. Cliff’s principles and conversation have been canvassed upon this occasion, and various conjectures made, why he should thus set his heart upon No 132. I have examined all the powers in those numbers, broken them into fractions, extracted the square and cube root, divided and multiplied them all ways, but could not arrive at the secret till about three days’ ago, when I received the following letter from an unknown hand, by which I find that Mr. Nathaniel Cliff is only the agent, and not the principal, in this advertisement. “Mr. Spectator, “I am the person that lately advertised I would give ten shillings more than the current price for the ticket No 132 in the lottery now drawing; which is a secret I have communicated to some friends, who rally me incessantly upon that account. You must know I have but one ticket, for which reason, and a certain dream I have lately had more than once, I was resolved it should be the number I most approved. I am so positive I have pitched upon the great lot, that I could almost lay all I am worth of it. My visions are so frequent and strong upon this occasion, that I have not only possessed the lot, but disposed of the money which in all probability it will sell for. This morning, in particular, I set up an equipage which I look upon to be the gayest in the town; the liveries are very rich, but not gaudy. I should be very glad to see a speculation or two upon lottery subjects, in which you would oblige all people concerned, and in particular “Your most humble servant, “P.S. Dear Spec, if I get the 12000l. I’ll make thee a handsome present.” After having wished my correspondent good luck, and thanked him for his intended kindness, I shall for this time dismiss the subject of the lottery, and only observe, that the greatest part of mankind are in some degree guilty of my friend Gosling’s extravagance. We are apt to rely upon future prospects, and become really expensive while we are only rich in possibility. We live up to our expectations, not to our possessions, and make a figure proportionable to what we may be, not what we are. We outrun our present income, as not doubting to disburse ourselves out of the profits of some future place, project, or reversion that we have in view. It is through this temper of mind, which is so common among us, that we see tradesmen break, who have met with no misfortunes in their business; and men of estates reduced to poverty, who have never suffered from losses or repairs, tenants, taxes, or law-suits. In short, it is this foolish sanguine temper, this depending upon contingent futurities, that occasions romantic generosity, chimerical grandeur, senseless ostentation, and generally ends in beggary and ruin. The man who will live above his present circumstances is in great danger of living in a little time much beneath them, or, as the Italian proverb runs, the man who lives by hope will die by hunger. It should be an indispensable rule in life, to contract our desires to our present condition, and whatever may be our expectations, to live within the compass of what we actually possess. It will be time enough to enjoy an estate when it comes into our hands; but if we anticipate our good fortune, we shall lose the pleasure of it when it arrives, and may possibly never possess what we have so foolishly counted upon. The Lottery Wheel, 1826.The Lottery Wheel, 1826. This engraving is slipped on here for the sake of readers who are fond of cuts, rather than as an illustration of any thing immediately preceding. An explanation of it will occur in the ensuing sheet, with several amusing prints relating to the present subject. Drawing Prizes.Drawing Prizes. In “The Examiner” Parr’s print is in six compartments: the four corner ones represent, 1. “Good Luck—£1000 prize;” a scene of rejoicing at the news. 2. “Bad Luck—what, all blanks?” a scene of social disturbance. 3. “Oh—let Fortune be kind;” the desires of a female party in conference with an old woman, who divines by coffee-grounds. 4. “Dear Doctor! consult the stars;” another female party waiting on a fortune-teller for a cast of his office. The middle compartment at the bottom has a To this eager display of the ticket by the fortunate lady, a representation of a scene at the drawing of “the very last lottery that will ever be drawn in England” might be a collateral illustration. The Unfortunate Lady.On the 2d of November, 1826, a lady named Free, who had come up from the country to try her fortune in the lottery, complained to the Lord Mayor, at the Mansion-house, that she had been deprived of her property, the sixteenth share of a 30,000l. prize, by the misconduct of those engaged in conducting the drawing. She stated, that she chose the ticket No. 17,092. The Lord Mayor.—You had some particular reason, then, for selecting that number? The Complainant replied, it was true, she had; she wished to have a ticket with the number of the year in which she was born, and finding that she could not get that precise number, she took one of 17,000, instead of 1700, as the most fortunate approach. So indeed it turned out to be; for she was sitting in the hall where the lottery was drawn, and heard her number distinctly cried out as one of the 30,000l. prizes, and with her own eyes she distinctly saw the officer stamp it. Nevertheless, another ticket had been returned as the prize. The Lord Mayor doubted, from the manner in which the tickets were well known to be drawn, whether the complainant’s anxiety had not made her mistake a similar number for her own. The Complainant.—“Oh no, my lord; it is impossible that I can be mistaken, though other people say I am. I shall not give up my claim, on the word of lottery-office clerks. If there’s any mistake, it is on their part; I trust to my own senses.” The Lord Mayor observed, that there was scarcely any trusting even to the “senses” on such occasions; and asked her, whether she did not almost feel the money in her pockets at the very time she fancied she heard her number announced? The Complainant assured his lordship, that she heard the announcement as calmly as could be expected, and that she by no means fainted away. She certainly made sure of having the property; she sat in the hall, and went out when the other expectants came away. Mr. Cope, the marshal, who stated that he was in attendance officially at the drawing, to keep the peace, declared that he heard all the fortunate numbers announced, and he was sorry to be compelled to state his conviction that this belonging to the lady was not one of them. The Lord Mayor said, he was afraid the complainant had deceived herself. He dismissed the application, recommending her to go to the stamp-office, and apply to the commissioners, who would do any thing except pay the money to satisfy her. In allusion to the lady’s name, and his decision on her case, his lordship is said to have observed on her departure, “not Free and Easy.” Reverting to a former period, for the sake of including some remarkable notices of lotteries adduced by Mr. Smeeton, we find him saying, on the authority of the “London Gazette,” May 17, 1688, that, besides the lottery at the Vere-street theatre, “Ogilby, the better to carry on his Britannia, had a lottery of books at Garraway’s Coffee-house, in ‘Change-alley.” Mr. Smeeton has the following three paragraphs:— Lotteries of various kinds seem to have been very general about this period; indeed so much so, that government, issued a notice in the London Gazette, Sept. 27, 1683, to prevent the drawing of any lotteries (and especially a newly-invented lottery, under the name of the riffling, or raffling lottery) except those under his majesty’s letters patent for thirteen years, granted to persons for their sufferings, and In 1683, prince Rupert dying rather poor, a plan was devised to “raise the wind” by disposing of all his jewels; but as the public were not satisfied with the mode of drawing the lotteries, on account of the many cheats practised on them, they would not listen to any proposals, until the king himself guaranteed to see that all was fair, and also, that Mr. Francis Child, the goldsmith, at Temple-bar, London, would be answerable for their several adventures; as appears by the London Gazette, Oct. 1, 1683:—“These are to give notice, that the jewels of his late royal highness prince Rupert have been particularly valued and appraised by Mr. Isaac Legouch, Mr. Christopher Rosse, and Mr. Richard Beauvoir, jewellers, the whole amounting to twenty thousand pounds, and will be sold by way of lottery, each lot to be five pounds. The biggest prize will be a great pearl necklace, valued at 8,000l., and none less than 100l. A printed particular of the said appraisement, with their divisions into lots, will be delivered gratis, by Mr. Francis Child, at Temple-bar, London, into whose hands such as are willing to be adventurers are desired to pay their money, on or before the first day of November next. As soon as the whole sum is paid in, a short day will be appointed (which, it is hoped, will be before Christmas) and notified in the Gazette, for the drawing thereof, which will be done in his majesty’s presence, who is pleased to declare, that he himself will see all the prizes put in amongst the blanks, and that the whole will be managed with equity and fairness, nothing being intended but the sale of the said jewels at a moderate value. And it is further notified, for the satisfaction of all as shall be adventurers, that the said Mr. Child shall and will stand obliged to each of them for their several adventures. And that each adventurer shall receive their money back if the said lottery be not drawn and finished before the first day of February next.”—Mr. Child was the first regular banker: he began business soon after the Restoration, and received the honour of knighthood. He lived in Fleet-street, where the shop still continues in a state of the highest respectability. A subsequent notice says, “that the king will probably, tomorrow, in the Banquetting-house, see all the blanks told over, that they may not exceed their number; and that the papers on which the prizes are to be written shall be rolled up in his presence; and that a child, appointed either by his majesty or the adventurers, shall draw the prizes.”—What would be said now, if his present majesty were to be employed in sorting, folding, and counting the blanks and prizes in the present lottery? About 1709, there was the Greenwich Hospital Adventure, sanctioned by an act of parliament, which the managers describe as “liable to none of the objections made against other lotteries, as to the fairness of the drawing, it not being possible there should be any deceit in it, as it has been suspected in others.”—Likewise there was Mr. Sydenham’s Land Lottery, who declared it was “found very difficult and troublesome for the adventurers for to search and find out what prizes they have come up in their number-tickets, from the badness of the print, the many errors in them, and the great quantity of prizes.”—The Twelve-penny, or Nonsuch, and the Fortunatus lotteries, also flourished at the commencement of the eighteenth century. Lottery of Deer.In May, 1715, the proprietors of Sion gardens advertised the following singular method of selling deer from their park. They appointed the afternoons of Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, for killing those animals; when the public were admitted at one shilling each to see the operation, or they might purchase tickets from four to ten shillings, which entitled them, it is supposed, by way of lottery, to different parts of the beast,—as they say the quantity killed was to be divided into sixteen lots, and the first choice to be governed by the numbers on the tickets: a ten shilling ticket was entitled to a fillet; eight, a shoulder; seven, a loin, &c. If the full price of the deer was not received on a given day, the keeper held the money till that sum was obtained. They offered to sell whole deer, and to purchase as many as might be offered. Harburgh Lottery.In 1723, the resentment of the house of commons was directed against the Bank Clerks’ Finesse.On the 31st of August, 1731, a scene was presented which strongly marks the infatuation and ignorance of lottery adventurers. The tickets for the State Lottery were delivered out to the subscribers at the Bank of England; when the crowd becoming so great as to obstruct the clerks, they told them, “We deliver blanks to-day, but to-morrow we shall deliver prizes;” upon which many, who were by no means for blanks, retired, and by this bold stratagem the clerks obtained room to proceed in their business. In this lottery “her majesty presented his royal highness the duke with ten tickets.” Love, Death, and the Lottery.Early in the reign of George II., the footman of a lady of quality, under the absurd infatuation of a dream, disposed of the savings of the last twenty years of his life in two lottery tickets, which proving blanks, after a few melancholy days, he put an end to his life. In his box was found the following plan of the manner in which he should spend the five thousand pound prize, which his mistress preserved as a curiosity:— “As soon as I have received the money, I will marry Grace Towers; but, as she has been cross and coy, I will use her as a servant. Every morning she shall get me a mug of strong beer, with a toast, nutmeg, and sugar in it; then I will sleep till ten, after which I will have a large sack posset. My dinner shall be on table by one, and never without a good pudding. I will have a stock of wine and brandy laid in. About five in the afternoon I will have tarts and jellies, and a gallon bowl of punch; at ten, a hot supper of two dishes. If I am in a good-humour, and Grace behaves herself, she shall sit down with me. To bed about twelve.” Fielding’s Farce.In 1731, Henry Fielding wrote a farce for Drury-lane Theatre, called “The Lottery,” to which, in 1732, he added a new scene. This pleasant representation of characters usually influenced to speculate in such schemes, was acted with considerable success, especially about the time when the lottery was drawn at Guildhall, and may well be conceived as calculated to abate the popular furor. It opens with a lottery-office keeper— Mr. Stocks, alone. AIR. A Lottery is a Taxation, Upon all the Fools in Creation; And, Heaven be prais’d, It is easily rais’d, Credulity’s always in Fashion: For Folly’s a Fund Will never lose Ground, While Fools are so rife in the Nation. [Knocking without. Enter 1 Buyer. 1 Buy. Is not this a House where People buy Lottery Tickets? Stoc. Yes, Sir—I believe I can furnish you with as good Tickets as any one. 1 Buy. I suppose, Sir, ’tis all one to you what Number a Man fixes on. Stoc. Any of my Numbers. 1 Buy. Because I would be glad to have it, Sir, the Number of my own Years, or my Wife’s; or, if I cou’d not have either of those, I wou’d be glad to have it the Number of my Mother’s. Stoc. Ay, or suppose, now, it was the Number 1 Buy. No, no! She has no Luck in Lotteries: She had a whole Ticket once, and got but fifty Pounds by it. Stoc. A very unfortunate Person, truly. Sir, my Clerk will furnish you, if you’ll walk that way up to the office. Ha, ha, ha!—There’s one 10,000l. got!—What an abundance of imaginary rich men will one month reduce to their former Poverty. [Knocking without.] Come in. Enter 2 Buyer. 2 Buy. Does not your Worship let Horses, Sir? Stoc. Ay, Friend. 2 Buy. I have got a little Money by driving a Hackney-Coach, and I intend to ride it out in the Lottery. Stoc. You are in the right, it is the way to drive your own Coach. 2 Buy. I don’t know, Sir, that—but I am willing to be in Fortune’s way, as the saying is. Stoc. You are a wise Man, and it is not impossible but you may be a rich one—’tis not above—no matter, how many to one, but that you are this Night worth 10,000l. 2 Buy. An belike you, Sir, I wou’d willingly ride upon the Number of my Coach. Stoc. Mr. Trick, let that Gentleman the Number of his Coach—[Aside.] No matter whether we have it, or no.—As the Gentleman is riding to a Castle in the Air, an airy Horse is the properest to carry him. [Knocking hard without.] Heyday! this is some Person of Quality, by the Impudence of the Footman. Enter Lady. Lady. Your Servant, Mr. Stocks. Stoc. I am your Ladyship’s most obedient Servant. Lady. I am come to buy some Tickets, and hire some Horses, Mr. Stocks—I intend to have twenty Tickets, and ten Horses every Day. Stoc. By which, if your Ladyship has any Luck, you may very easily get 30 or 40,000l. Lady. Please to look at those Jewels, Sir—they cost my Lord upwards of 6000l.—I intend to lay out what you will lend upon ’em. [Knocking without. Stoc. If your Ladyship pleases to walk up into the Dining-Room, I’ll wait on you in a Moment. [Chloe, a lady, holding an undrawn Lottery Ticket, which, from what a fortune-teller told her, what she saw in a coffee dish, and what she dreamt every night, she is confident would come up a prize of ten thousand pounds, desires to consult Mr. Stocks as to how she should lay out the money.] Enter Stocks. Stoc. I had the Honour of receiving your Commands, Madam. Chloe. Sir, your humble Servant—Your Name is Mr. Stocks, I suppose. Stoc. So I am call’d in the Alley, Madam; a Name, tho’ I say it, which wou’d be as well receiv’d at the Bottom of a Piece of Paper, as any He’s in the Kingdom. But if I mistake not, Madam, you wou’d be instructed how to dispose of 10,000l. Chloe. I wou’d so, Sir. Stoc. Why, Madam, you know, at present, Publick Interest is very low, and private Securities very difficult to get—and I am sorry to say, I am afraid there are some in the Alley who are not the honestest Men in the Kingdom. In short, there is one way to dispose of Money with Safety and Advantage, and that is—to put it into the Charitable Corporation. Chloe. The Charitable Corporation! pray what is that? Stoc. That is, Madam, a method, invented by some very wise Men, by which the Rich may be charitable to the Poor, and be Money in Pocket by it. The Charitable Corporation.This company, erected in 1707, professed to lend money at legal interest to the poor upon small pledges; and to persons of better rank upon security of goods impawned. Their capital, at first limited to £30,000, was by licenses from the crown increased to £600,000, though their charter was never confirmed by act of parliament. In 1731, George Robinson, esquire, member for Marlow, the cashier, and John Thompson, warehouse-keeper of the corporation, disappeared in one day. The alarmed proprietors held several general courts, and appointed a committee to inspect their affairs, who reported, that for a capital of above £500,000 no equivalent was found; inasmuch as their effects did not amount to the value of £30,000, the remainder having been embezzled. The proprietors, in a petition to the house of commons, represented that, by a notorious breach of trust, the corporation had been defrauded of the greatest part of their capital; and that many of the petitioners were reduced to the utmost misery and distress: they therefore prayed parliament to inquire into the state of the corporation, and the conduct of their managers, and extend relief to the petitioners. On this petition a secret committee was appointed, who soon discovered a most iniquitous scene of fraud, perpetrated by Robinson and The “London Journal” of October 30, 1731, observing on the general disposition to adventure says:— The natural life of man is labour or business; riches is an unnatural state; and therefore generally a state of misery. Life, which is a drug in the hands of idle men, never hangs heavily on the hands of merchants and tradesmen, who judiciously divide their time between the city and country. This is so true, that a wise man would never leave his children so much money as to put them beyond industry; for that is too often putting them beyond happiness. The heaping up riches for posterity is, generally speaking, heaping up destruction; and entailing of large estates, entailing vice and misery. These thoughts were occasioned by the present state lottery; which plainly discovers that the people would run into the excesses of the South Sea year, had they the same opportunities. The spring and source of this unreasonable passion, is the luxury of the age. Tradesmen commence gentlemen and men of pleasure, when they should be men of business; and begin where they should end. This sets them a madding after lotteries; business is neglected, and poverty, vice, and misery spread among the people. It is hoped that the Parliament will never come into another lottery. All other gaming should be also discouraged. Who but laments that unfortunate young lady at the Bath, who was ruined by gaming, and rather than submit to a mean dependance, thought it best to resign her life? The tone of dissuasion from lotteries and gambling in the year 1731, prevails through the writings of the different persons who opposed such schemes and practices. The story of the “unfortunate young lady at the Bath, who was ruined by gaming,” referred to in the last paragraph, and already related in this work, is exceedingly affecting. Westminster Bridge Lottery.In the 9th year of George II. parliament passed an act for building this bridge by a lottery, and the following scheme was issued to the public:— LOTTERY 1736, for raising 100000l. for building a Bridge at Westminster, consisting of 125000 Tickets, at 5l. each.
The Prizes to be paid at the Bank in 40 Days after Drawing, without Deduction. N.B. There is little more than Three Blanks to a Prize. Parliament granted successive lotteries for the building and completion of Westminster-bridge. An Organ Lottery.In 1737, Horace Walpole (Lord Orford) says, “I am now in pursuit of In the State Lottery of 1739, tickets, chances, and shares were “bought and sold by Richard Shergold, printer to the honourable the commissioners of the Lottery, at his office at the Union Coffee-house over and against the Royal Exchange, Cornhill.” He advertised, that he kept numerical books during the drawing, and a book wherein buyers might register their numbers at sixpence each; that 15 per cent. was to be deducted out of the prizes, which were to be paid at the bank in fifty days after the drawing was finished; and that “schemes in French and English” were given gratis. The per centage to be deducted from the prizes in this lottery occasioned the following Epigram. This lottery can never thrive, Was broker heard to say, For who but fools will ever give Fifteen per cent to play. A sage, with his accustomed grin, Replies, I’ll stake my doom, That if but half the fools come in The wise will find no room. Lottery at Stationers’ Hall.On the 23d of November, 1741, “the drawing of the Bridge Lottery began at Stationers’ Hall.—The Craftsman of the 28th says, that every 100,000l. laid out in a lottery puts a stop to the circulation of at least 300,000l., and occasions almost a total suppression of trade.” In June, 1743, “the price of lottery tickets having risen from 10l. to 11l. 10s. some persons, who probably wanted to purchase, published a hint to the unwary adventurers, that they gamed at 50 per cent. loss; paying, at that price, 2s. 6d. to play for 5s.; the money played for being only three pound, besides discount and deductions.” Ticket stuck in the Wheel.On the 5th of January, 1774, at the conclusion of drawing the State Lottery at Guildhall, No. 11,053, as the last drawn ticket, was declared to be entitled to the 1000l., and was so printed in the paper of benefits by order of the commissioners. It was besides a prize of 100l. But after the wheels were carried back to Whitehall and there opened, the ticket No. 72,248 was found sticking in a crevice of the wheel. And, being the next drawn ticket after all the prizes were drawn, was advertised by the commissioners’ order as entitled to the 1000l., as the last drawn ticket: “which affair made a great deal of noise.” A Peer’s Substitute for Lotteries.On the bill, for a lottery to succeed the preceding, being brought into the house of lords, a peer said, that such measures always were censured by those that saw their nature and their tendency. “They have been considered as legal cheats, by which the ignorant and the rash are defrauded, and the subtle and avaricious often enriched. They have been allowed to divert the people from trade, and to alienate them from useful industry. A man who is uneasy in his circumstances, and idle in his disposition, collects the remains of his fortune, and buys tickets in a lottery, retires from business, indulges himself in laziness, and waits, in some obscure place, the event of his adventure. Another, instead of employing his stock in a shop or a warehouse, rents a garret in a private street, and make it his business, by false Chances of Tickets.The State Lottery of 1751 seems to have encountered considerable opposition. There is a discouraging notice in the “Gentleman’s Magazine” on the 4th of July in that year, that “those inclined to become adventurers in the present lottery were cautioned in the papers to wait some time before they purchased tickets, whereby the jobbers would be disappointed of their market, and obliged to sell at a lower price. At the present rate of tickets the adventurer plays at 35 per cent. loss.” In the next month, August, the “London Magazine” exhibited the following computation. IN THE LOTTERY 1751, IT IS
The writer says, I would beg the favour of all gentlemen, tradesmen, and others, to take the pains to explain to such as any way depend upon their judgment, that one must buy no less than seven tickets to have an even chance for any prize at all; that with only one ticket, it is six to one, and with half a ticket, twelve to one against any prize; and ninety-nine or a hundred to one that the prize, if it comes, will not be above fifty pounds; and no less than thirty-five thousand to one that the owner of a single ticket will not obtain one of the greatest prizes. No lottery is proper for persons of very small fortunes, to whom the loss of five or six pounds is of great consequence, besides the disturbance of their minds; much less is it advisable or desirable for either poor or rich to contribute to the exorbitant tax of more than two hundred thousand pounds, which the first engrossers of lottery tickets, and the brokers and dealers strive to raise, out of the pockets of the poor chiefly, and the silly rich partly, by artfully enhancing the price of tickets above the original cost. The prices of tickets in this lottery was ten pounds. On their rise a Mr. Holland publicly offered to lay four hundred guineas, that four hundred tickets, when drawn, did not amount to nine pounds fifteen shillings on an average, prizes and blanks; his advertisement was never answered. These animadversions on the scheme, and the resistance offered to the endeavours of the brokers and dealers to effect a rise in the price of tickets, appear, from the following lines published in October, to have been to a certain degree successful— A New Song While guineas were plenty, we thought we might rise, Nor dreamt of a magpye to pick out our eyes; ’Twas twelve would have satisfy’d all our desire, Tho’ perhaps without pain we might see them mount higher. Derry down, down, down derry, &c. How sweet were the pickings we formerly gain’d, From whence our fine daughters their fortunes obtain’d! In our coaches can roll, at the public can smile, Whose follies reward all our labour and toil. Derry down, &c. No horseshoe nor magpye shall baffle our skill; In triumph we’ll ride, and, in spite of the rout, Our point we’ll obtain without wheeling about. Derry down, &c. Tho’ sturdy these beggars, yet weak are their brains; Who offer to check us, must smart for their pains; In concert united, we’ll laugh at the tribe, Who play off their engines to damp all our pride. Derry down, &c. Let Holland no longer appear with his brags, His four hundred guineas keep safe in his bags, Nor think we’re such fools to risque any thing down, By way of a wager to humour the town. Derry down, &c. On the 11th of the next month, November, the drawing of the State Lottery began, when, notwithstanding the united efforts of several societies and public-spirited gentlemen to check the exorbitancy of the ticket-mongers, the price rose to sixteen guineas just before drawing. All means were tried to cure this infatuation by writing and advertising; particularly on the first day of drawing, it was publicly averred, that near eight thousand tickets were in the South Sea House, and upwards of thirty thousand pawned at bankers, &c. that nine out of ten of the ticket-holders were not able to go into the wheel; and that not one of them durst stand the drawing above six days. It was also demonstrated in the clearest manner, that to have an even chance for any prize a person must have seven tickets; that with only one ticket it was six to one; and ninety-nine to one that the prize, if it came, would not be above fifty pounds, and no less than thirty-five thousand to one that the owner of a single ticket would not obtain one of the greatest prizes.—Yet, notwithstanding these and other precautions, people still suffered themselves to be deluded, and the monied men arrogantly triumphed. A Lottery Job in Ireland.In August, 1752, a lottery was set on foot at Dublin, under the pretext of raising 13,700l. for rebuilding Essex-bridge, and other public and charitable uses. There were to be 100,000 tickets, at a guinea each. The lords justices of Ireland issued an order to suppress this lottery. The measure occasioned a great uproar in Dublin; for it appears, that the tickets bore a premium, and that though the original subscribers were to have their money returned, the buyers at the advanced price would lose the advance. Every purchaser of a single ticket in this illegal lottery incurred a penalty of 50l. for each offence, and the seller 500l., one third of which went to the informer, a third to the king, and the other third to the poor of the parish; besides which, the offenders were subject to a year’s close imprisonment in the county gaol. Leheup’s Fraud.To prevent the monopoly of tickets in the State Lottery, it had been enacted, that persons charged with the delivery of tickets should not sell more than twenty to one person. This provision was evaded by pretended lists, which defeated the object of parliament and injured public credit, insomuch that, in 1754, more tickets were subscribed for than the holders of the lists had cash to purchase, and there was a deficiency in the first payment. The mischief and notoriety of these practices occasioned the house of commons to prosecute an inquiry into the circumstances, which, though opposed by a scandalous cabal, who endeavoured to screen the delinquents, ended in a report by the committee, that Peter Leheup, esq. had privately disposed of a great number of tickets before the office was opened to which the public were directed by an advertisement to apply; that he also delivered great numbers to particular persons, upon lists of names which he knew to be fictitious; and that, in particular, Sampson Gideon became proprietor of more than six thousand, which he sold at a premium. Upon report of these and other illegal acts, the house resolved that Leheup was guilty of a violation of the act, and a breach of trust, and presented an address to his majesty, praying that he would direct the attorney-general to prosecute him in the most effectual manner for his offences. An information was accordingly filed, and, on a trial at bar in the court of king’s bench, Leheup, as one of the receivers of the last lottery of 300,000l., was found Lottery Insanity.November 5, 1757, Mr. Keys, late clerk to Cotton and Co., who had absented himself ever since the 7th of October, the day the 10,000l. was drawn in the lottery, (supposed to be his property,) was found in the streets raving mad, having been robbed of his pocket-book and ticket. The subjoined verses appeared in 1761: A few Thoughts on Lotteries. A Lottery, like a magic spell, All ranks of men bewitches, Whose beating bosoms vainly swell With hopes of sudden riches: With hope to gain Ten Thousand Pound How many post to ruin, And for an empty, airy sound Contrive their own undoing! Those on whom wealth her stores had shed, May firmly bear their crosses; But they who earn their daily bread, Oft sink beneath their losses. ’Tis strange, so many fools we find, By tickets thus deluded, And, by a trifling turn of mind, From life’s blest bliss excluded. For life’s best blessing, calm content, Attends no more his slumbers, Who dreams of profit, cent. per cent. And sets his heart on numbers. Thro’ all life’s various stages, care Our peace will oft disquiet; Like a free-gift it comes, we ne’er Need be in haste to buy it. He who, intent on shadowy schemes, By them is deeply bubbled, Deserves to wake from golden dreams, With disappointment doubled. Unmoved by Fortune’s fickle wheel, The wise man chance despises; And Prudence courts with fervent zeal— She gives the highest prizes. Large Division of Tickets.In some of the old lotteries tickets were divided into a much greater number of shares than of late years. There is an example of this in the following Advertisement, November, 1766. Dame Fortune presents her respects to the public, and assures them that she has fixed her residence for the present at Corbett’s, State Lottery-office, opposite St. Dunstan’s-church, Fleet-street; and, to enable many families to partake of her favours, she has ordered not only the tickets to be sold at the lowest prices, but also that they be divided into shares at the following low rates, viz:—
By which may be gained from upwards of one hundred and fifty to upwards of five thousand guineas, at her said office No. 30. A Number twice sold.The lottery of 1766 was unfortunate to a lottery-office keeper. The ticket No. 20,99 was purchased in the alley for Pagen Hale, esq. of Hertfordshire; and the same number was also divided into shares at a lottery-office near Charing-cross, and some of the shares actually sold. The number purchased in the alley was the real number, but that divided by the office-keeper was done by mistake, for which he paid a proportionable sum. During the lottery of 1767, the stockbrokers fell among thieves. Mr. Hugnes, a stock-broker, had his pocket picked in Jonathan’s coffee-house of fifty lottery tickets, the value of which (at the price then sold) was 800l. The same evening The preceding anecdotes are in the newspapers of the time, together with the following, which strongly marks the perversion of a weak mind. “A gentlewoman in Holborn, whose husband had presented her with a ticket, put up prayers in the church, the day before drawing, in the following manner: The prayers of the congregation are desired for the success of a person engaged in a new undertaking.” A Fraudulent Insurer.In January, 1768, an insurer of tickets was summoned before a magistrate, for refusing to pay thirty guineas to an adventurer, upon the coming up of a certain number a blank, for which he had paid a premium of three guineas. The insurer was ordered immediately to pay thirty guineas, which he was obliged to comply with to prevent worse consequences. Love Tickets.Mr. Charles Holland, the actor, who died on the 7th of December, 1769, received many letters of passionate admiration from a lady who fell in love with him from his appearance on the stage; and she accompanied one of her declarations of attachment by four lottery tickets as a present. Good and ill Luck.In the lottery of 1770, the holder of the ticket entitled to the capital prize or 20,000l. was captain Towry of Isleworth. A very remarkable circumstance put it in his possession: Mr. Barnes, a grocer in Cheapside, purchased four following numbers, one of which this was; but thinking the chance not so great in so many following ones, he carried this very ticket back to the office, and changed it for another. A Little Go.October 14, 1770, a case was determined at the general quarter session of the peace for the county of Wilts, held at Marlborough. A quack doctor had been convicted before Thomas Johnson, esq. of Bradford, in the penalty of 200l. for disposing of plate, &c. by means of a device or lottery; and by a second information convicted of the same offence before Joseph Mortimer, esq. of Trowbridge. To both these convictions he appealed to the justices at the general quarter session of the peace, when, after a trial of near ten hours, the bench unanimously confirmed the conviction on both informations, by which the appellant was subjected to the penalties of 200l. on each, and costs. Insurance Cause.On the 1st of March, 1773, a cause of great public concern came on to be tried before lord Mansfield, at Guildhall, wherein the lord mayor was plaintiff, and Messrs. Barnes and Golightly were defendants, in order to determine the legality of insuring lottery tickets; but on account of an error in the declaration the plaintiff was nonsuited. On the 17th of the same month, “Mr. Sheriff Lewes presented a petition from the city of London, against the frequent toleration of lotteries in the time of peace; but the petition was ordered to lie upon the table.—No government can long subsist, that is reduced to the necessity of supporting itself by fraudulent gaming.” Tricks of an Insurer.June 26, 1775, a cause came on in the court of common pleas, Guildhall, between a gentleman, plaintiff, and a lottery-office keeper of this city, defendant; the cause of this action was as follows: the gentleman, passing by the lottery-office, observed a woman and boy crying, on which he asked the reason of their tears; they informed him, that they had insured a number in the lottery on Proceedings respecting a Blue-coat Boy.In 1775, some of the boys of Christ’s Hospital, appointed to draw numbers and chances from the wheel, were tampered with, for the purpose of inducing them to commit a fraud. These attempts were successful in one instance, and led to certain regulations, which will presently be stated. On the 1st of June, a man was carried before the lord mayor for attempting to bribe the two blue-coat boys who drew the Museum Lottery at Guildhall to conceal a ticket, and to bring it to him, promising that he would next day return it to them. His intention was to insure it in all the offices, with a view to defraud the office-keepers. The boys were honest, gave notice of the intended fraud, and pointed out the delinquent, who, however, was discharged, as there existed no law to punish the offence. On the 5th of December, one of the blue-coat boys who drew the numbers in the State Lottery at Guildhall was examined before sir Charles Asgill, relative to a number that had been drawn out the Friday before, on which an insurance had been made in almost every office in London. The boy confessed, that he was prevailed upon to conceal the ticket No. 21,481, by a man who gave him money for so doing; that the man copied the number; and that the next day he followed the man’s instructions, and put his hand into the wheel as usual, with the ticket in it, and then pretended to draw it out. The instigator of the offence had actually received 400l. of the insurance-office keepers; had all of them paid him, the whole sum would have amounted to 3000l. but some of them suspected a fraud had been committed, and caused the inquiry, which obtained the boy’s confession. On the following day, the person who insured the ticket was examined. He was clerk to a hop-factor in Goodman’s-fields, but not being the person who seduced the boy to secrete the ticket, and no evidence appearing to prove his connection with the person who did, the prisoner was discharged, though it was ascertained that he had insured the number already mentioned ninety-one times in one day. In consequence of the circumstances discovered by this examination, the lords of the treasury inquired further, and deliberated on the means of preventing similar practices; the result of their conferences was the following “Orders,” which are extracted from the original minutes of the proceedings, and are now for the first time published. COPY, No. I. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 20000 | if a prize of | £20000 |
| 10000 | £10000 | |
| 5000 | £5000 |
with the second number will gain
| 6000 | guineas if | 20000 |
| 3000 | 10000 | |
| 1500 | 5000 |
with the third number will gain
| 3000 | guineas if | 20000 |
| 1500 | 10000 | |
| 1200 | 5000 |
In the lottery act of 1782 there was a clause designed to prevent the insurance of tickets by any method. The lottery-office keepers persisted in their devices, and the magistrates enforced the law.
About the beginning of January 1785 several lottery-office keepers were convicted, before the lord mayor and aldermen, in penalties of fifty pounds each for insuring numbers contrary to law; and in Trinity term the following cause was tried at Westminster, before lord Loughborough.
A lottery-office keeper near Charing-cross was plaintiff, and the sheriff of Middlesex defendant. The action was to recover one thousand five hundred and sixty-six pounds, levied by the sheriff, about a year past, on the plaintiff’s goods, by virtue of three writs of fieri facias,
Lottery Wood Cuts.
It is to be remarked, that at this period engravings on their printed addresses do not seem to have been resorted to by the lottery-schemers as they have been since, for the purpose of stimulating attention to their plans. No subject of the kind therefore can be given, to illustrate their proceedings at the time now under review; but on arriving, as we shall presently, at days nearer our own, they crowd upon us, and several will be given in the next sheet as specimens of their ingenuity and taste.
Charles Price, alias Patch, &c.
This man was a lottery-office keeper. His notoriety and his fate render him one of the most remarkable characters of the age wherein he lived; it is therefore proposed to give a brief outline of his life.
His father, Charles Price, was “by trade a tailor.” He came from South Wales, about the year 1702, and worked at several places in London, till in 1710 he got into Monmouth-street, as journeyman to a salesman there. By strict application he was, in a few years, enabled to set up as a master, and kept a saleshop the corner of Earl-street and West-street, Seven Dials. Some time previous to this he had married a woman who bore a very good character. He was very clever in his business, but illiterate; yet exceedingly artful, and the flower of Monmouth-street for oratory in the sale of his goods: at the same time, he was sincere in his friendships, despised downright knavery, and had a regard to reputation. His eldest son, Thomas, was bred to his father’s business. One Creed, a salesman in Rosemary-lane, used to send him with a cart loaded with goods round the country; and Creed dying, Thomas decamped with the produce of one journey, about 200l. For this, and for similar acts of knavery in his brother Charles, he left them only a shilling each, and bequeathed the rest of his property to his daughter. Thomas died young.
Charles, the hero of our history, when about six years of age, was sent to school, where he acquired the rudiments of the French language, and was so neglected in his own, that he was complete in neither. At about twelve years’ old he was taken home to assist his father, where he soon gave proofs of address similar to the following.
A sailor who had staggered to Monmouth-street to buy some clothes, was caught by Charles at the corner, and introduced by him into a room, where, in a summer’s noon, it was hardly possible to distinguish blue from black, or green from blue. The honest tar was shown a coat and waistcoat, the real value of which was about two guineas. Though they were considerably too little, Charles squeezed him up, and persuaded him they fitted exactly. The price being demanded, Charles declared upon his honour the lowest farthing he could take was five guineas. The sailor put his hand in his pocket, and laid down the money. Charles stepped down to his father’s journeyman, under pretence of getting something to put the clothes in, and told him the customer he met with, and that he might as well have had six guineas as five. “Do you,” said he, “follow me up stairs, inquire what I have done, pretend to be very angry, swear they cost you six guineas, give me two or three kicks or cuffs, and I dare swear we shall get more money out of him, and then, as my father is not at home, you shall go halves in all we get above the five guineas.” The scheme was readily acquiesced in by the journeyman. Charles slipped up stairs; the journeyman followed, inquiry, blame, and sham blows ensued; the journeyman declared the clothes cost him six guineas out of his pocket, and was going to beat Charles again, when the sailor cried,
The father soon experienced the effects of his son’s knavery, and put him apprentice to a hatter and hosier in St. James’s-street, with a considerable premium, hoping that his conduct would be quite different from what it had been at home; but his master had almost as much reason to complain of him as his father. Among his other frauds was the following: he robbed his father of an elegant suit of clothes, in which he dressed himself and went to his master, of whom he purchased about ten pounds’ worth of silk stockings, leaving his address, Benjamin Bolingbroke, esq., Hanover-square, and ordering them to be sent in an hour’s time, when he would pay the person who brought them. Incredible as it may appear, his master did not know him; to complete the cheat, he came back in half an hour, in his usual dress, and was ordered to take the goods home, which he actually pretended to do, and thus robbed his master. Having been detected in his villainies, he ran away; and his father, in detestation of his principles, disinherited him, soon afterwards died, and was buried at Lambeth. It may be remarked, that he was the first corpse carried over Westminster-bridge, which was on the first day it was free for carriages, when multitudes flocked to see the opening of the new structure.
Before his father’s death, Charles Price became a gentleman’s servant, and in that capacity lived some years, till he got into the service of sir Francis Blake Delaval, went with him the tour of Europe, returned to England, and through sir Francis, who was the companion of the celebrated Samuel Foote, became comedian. He acted a principal part in the scheme by which sir Francis obtained his lady, with a very large fortune. She went to consult a conjuror, and Foote performed the character to the satisfaction of his friend. Price afterwards contrived to conjure Foote out of 500l. in a sham scheme in a brewery, wherein that gentleman and Price were concerned. Price was made a bankrupt, and afterwards set up in a distillery, defrauded the revenue, was sent to the King’s-bench, released by an insolvent act, again turned brewer, and defrauded a gentleman out of 6000l. through one of his disguises. He then became a lottery-office keeper and stockbroker, gambled in the alley, was ruined, again set up lottery-office keeper, courted a Mrs. Pounteney, and ran away with her niece, who was the daughter of justice Wood, in the Borough. He practised innumerable frauds, became an adept in swindling, and had the effrontery to avow his depredations, and laugh at those he injured.
Price was intimate with a Mr. R——s, a grocer retired from business, with whom he had for a long time passed as a stockbroker. Price, who then lived at Knightsbridge, frequently used to request the favour of Mr. R. to take a bank-note or two into the city, and get them changed into small ones. In this he had a two-fold plot. He informed his friend that he was intimately acquainted with a very old gentleman, exceedingly rich, who had been an eminent broker in the alley, but had long retired; that his monies in the funds were immense; that the only relation he had in the world was one sister, to whom he intended to bequeath the best part of his property; and that his sister was near fifty years of age, had never been married, and determined never to marry; and that it was impossible the old gentleman could live long, as he was very old, very infirm, and almost incapable of going out of doors. This old gentleman, Price said, had often asked him to become his executor; and besought him to recommend another person, in whose fidelity, character, and integrity, he could repose an entire confidence, and that he would make it well worth their while, if they would undertake so friendly and solemn an office.—“Now,” said Price to Mr. R., “here is an opportunity for us to make a considerable sum in a short time, and, in all probability, a very capital fortune in a few years; for the sister being determined not to marry, and having no relations in the world, there is no doubt but she will leave us the whole of the estate; and, after his decease, she will become totally dependent upon us.—I shall see the old gentleman, Mr. Bond, to-day, and if you will join in the trust, the will shall be immediately made.”
Charles Price, the Arch-Imposter,
In his usual Dress—and in Disguise.
To this proposal Mr. R. consented. In the evening Price returned to Knightsbridge.
Another anecdote, though it does not exhibit him in his Proteus-like character, exemplifies his cunning and selfishness. He had formed a connection with Mr. W——, a brewer, a man of character. Price, who was then in the brewery, proposed a project, which was assented to, for purchasing hops to the amount of two thousand pounds, and he actually went into the country, contracted for hops to that amount with hop-growers in Kent, and then applied to Mr. W. for the two thousand pounds, alledging that there would be a sudden rise of hops, and they could not be delivered too soon; and that Mr. W. should have his share of the profit. From some undisclosed motive, Mr. W. refused to advance the money. An unexpected rise, however, did soon after take place, Price went into Kent to demand delivery, the growers were shy in delivering, especially as they found they had made a bad bargain, and he gained two hundred pounds for releasing them.
Price was servile to extreme meanness, where his servility could be recompensed by a shilling. He was master of consummate effrontery, when principle called upon him for that shilling, if it was unsupported by law. He never paid but with an eye to further plunder; and then he abounded in that species of flattery distinguished under the word palaver. He possessed an extensive knowledge of men and manners, and to superficial observers appeared a very sensible person. He knew something of most of the living languages; had travelled all over France and Holland, and been at most of the German courts. He was at Copenhagen during the crisis in the fate of the unhappy Matilda queen of Denmark, sister to George III.; and he wrote a pamphlet in her behalf, tending to prove that the true motive for the degrading attack on her character, was to effect a revolution in favour of the queen dowager’s son. It proved him to have an eye directed to the cabals of the court, and an understanding capable of developing its intrigues.
Price’s character about the ’Change in London was well-known—he was a keen, intriguing speculator, well versed in the mystery of the bulls and bears: his head enabled him to make the most accurate calculations, but his heart would not permit him to enjoy the fruit of even his honest labours; for he never would comply with the demands of a fortunate customer, unless terrified into it,—and to terrify him required no small portion of ingenuity and resolution. His dishonesty was the spring of all his misfortunes; it made him shift from place to place to avoid the abuse of the vulgar, and the clamorous calls of the few fortunate adventurers in the lottery. His last office was the corner of King-street, Covent-garden, from whence he was driven, by a run of ill-luck, into a private decampment.
From that period, Price lived in obscurity. Though a perfect sycophant abroad, at home he was an absolute tyrant; nor could a prudent, virtuous woman, endowed with every qualification to render the marriage state happy, soften his brutal disposition, when the ample fortune he obtained with her had been squandered. Having a family of eight children to support, he turned his thoughts to fatal devices, and commenced to forge on the bank of England. His first attack on the bank was about the year 1780, when one of his notes had been taken there, so complete in the engraving, the signature, the water-marks, and all its parts, that it passed through various hands unsuspected, and was not discovered till it came to a certain department, through which no forgery whatever can pass undiscovered. The appearance of this note occasioned a considerable alarm among the directors; and forgery upon forgery flowed in, about the lottery and Christmas times, without the least probability of discovering the first negociators. Various consultations were held, innumerable plans were laid for detection, and they were traced in every quarter to have proceeded from one man, always disguised, and always inaccessible.
Had Price permitted a partner in his proceedings—had he employed an engraver—had he procured paper to be made for him, with water-marks upon it, he must soon have been discovered—but he
Public-office, Bow-street, Dec. 5, 1780.
A Forgery.
Whereas a person, answering the following description, stands charged with forging two notes, purporting to be bank-notes, one for forty pounds and the other for twenty pounds, whoever will apprehend him, or give such immediate notice at this office as may be the means of apprehending him, shall receive one hundred pounds’ reward on his commitment.
Or, if any person concerned in the above forgery, (except the person here-under described,) will surrender and discover his or her accomplices, he or she will be admitted an evidence for the crown, and, on conviction of any one offender therein, receive two hundred pounds’ reward.
And if any engraver, paper-maker, mould-maker or printer, can give information of the engraving any plate, making any mould or paper, or printing any note resembling bank-notes, shall receive two hundred pounds’ reward, on conviction of any of the offenders in the above forgery.
He appears about fifty years of age, about five feet six inches high, stout made, very sallow complexion, dark eyes and eye-brows, speaks in general very deliberately, with a foreign accent; has worn a black patch over his left eye, tied with a string round his head, sometimes wears a white wig, his hat flapped before, and nearly so at the sides, a brown camblet great coat, buttons of the same, with a large cape, which he always wears so as to cover the lower part of his face; appears to have very thick legs, which hang over his shoes, as if swelled, his shoes are very broad at the toes, and little narrow old-fashioned silver buckles, black stocking breeches, walks with a short crutch stick with an ivory head, stoops, or affects to stoop very much, and walks slow as if infirm; he has lately hired many hackney-coaches in different parts of the town, and been frequently set down in or near Portland-place, in which neighbourhood it is supposed he lodges.
He is connected with a woman who answers the following description:—She is rather tall, and genteel, thin face and person, about thirty years of age, light hair, rather a yellow cast on her face, and pitted with the small pox, a down-cast look, speaks very slow, sometimes wears a coloured linen jacket and petticoat, and sometimes a white one, a small black bonnet, and a black cloak, and assumes the character of a lady’s maid.
N. B. It is said, that about fifteen months since he lodged at Mrs. Parker’s, No. 40, in Great Titchfield-street, (who is since dead,) at which time he went by the name of Wigmore.
This advertisement drove Price to extremities:—it forced him to refrain from the circulation of his forgeries, and for some months put a total stop to them. It was posted on the walls, and printed as hand-bills, and delivered from house to house throughout the whole of the quarter where he was most suspected to reside; at the very house which he daily resorted to, and where all his implements were fixed; in the neighbourhood of Marybone, Portland-place, Oxford-street, and Tottenham-court-road. One of them was thrown down an area to the only person in whom he placed any confidence, a female whom the reader will be better acquainted with. By these means Price was informed of his immediate danger, and took his measures accordingly. Eagerness to secure banished the foresight and caution which are necessary in the pursuit of artful villany. The animal whose sagacity is a proverb, can never be secured in haste; he must be entrapped by superior patience and caution.
Though Price had no partner in any branch of the forgery of a bank-note, yet he had a confidante in his wife’s aunt, by the mother’s side, whom he had known previous to his marriage. Her name was Pounteney; and, unknown to Mrs. Price, he was daily with her. He divided his dinner-times equally between the two, and Mrs. Price had for ten years’ past, through the impositions of her husband, considered her aunt either as dead, or residing abroad. His wife had too little art, or understanding in the ways of
Previous to the drawing of the lottery for the year 1780, Price put an advertisement into the “Daily Advertiser” for a servant who had been used to live with a single gentleman, and the direction was to “C. C. Marlborough-street coffee-house, Broad-street, Carnaby-market.” An honest young man, who at that time lived with a musical instrument-maker in the Strand, read this advertisement, and sent a letter to the specified address. At the end of a week, one evening, about dusk, a coachman inquired for the person who had answered the advertisement, saying there was a gentleman over the way, in a coach, wanted to speak with him. The young man went to the coach, was desired to step in, and there saw an apparently aged foreigner, gouty, wrapped up with five or six yards of flannel about his legs, a camblet surtout buttoned up over his chin, close to his mouth, a large patch over his left eye, and every part of his face concealed except his nose, right eye, and a small part of that cheek. This person was Price, who caused the young man to sit at his left side, on which eye the patch was; so that Price could take an askance look at him with his right eye, and discover only a small portion of his own face. Thus disguised, he seemed between sixty and seventy years of age, and afterwards, when the man saw him standing, he appeared nearly six feet high, owing to boots or shoes with heels little less than four inches high. To aid the deception, he was so buttoned up and straightened as to appear perfectly lank. Price’s real height was about five feet six inches; he was a compact, neat made man, rather square shouldered, and somewhat inclined to corpulency; his legs were firm and well set. His features assisted his design to look considerably older than he really was; his nose was aquiline, his eyes were small and grey, his mouth stood very much inwards, his lips were very thin, his chin was pointed and prominent, he had a pale complexion, and loss of teeth favoured his disguise of speech. His natural form was exceedingly upright; he was active and quick in his walk, and was what is usually described “a dapper made man.” To the young man, whose christian name was Samuel, Price affected great age, with a faint hectic cough, and so much bodily infirmity as almost to disable him from getting out of the coach. Price told him he was not wanted by himself, but as under servant to a young nobleman of fortune, under age, and then in Bedfordshire, to whom he was, and had been some years, guardian. He inquired into the particulars of Samuel’s life, and thinking him honest and ingenuous, and therefore unsuspicious, and suitable to his purpose, he talked to him about wages. Samuel inquired whether he was to be in livery or not: Price replied, that he could not really tell, for the young nobleman was a very whimsical character, but that was a circumstance which might be settled hereafter. To carry on the farce, he desired Samuel to call his master to the coach to give him a character, and his master came and gave him such an one as Price pretended to approve; he then hired Samuel at eighteen shillings per week, and gave him a direction to himself, as Mr. Brank, at No. 39, Titchfield-street, Oxford-street.
Pursuant to appointment, on the second or third evening afterwards, Samuel went to Titchfield-street, and there entered on the service of the minor nobleman, by waiting on Mr. Brank. Price resumed his discourse respecting his ward, the eccentricity and prodigality of his manners, and his own hard task in endeavouring to prevent him from squandering his money, especially in those deceitful allurances called lottery tickets. He said, although he was his guardian, he was still obliged to comply with some of those whims, in opposition to his own advice and remonstrance. Old Mr. Brank talked of the happy prospects for Samuel by serving such a master, and Samuel talked of his wages and clothes, and whether he was to be in livery or not. It was concluded, that for the present he
Before Samuel took leave of the old gentleman, he was ordered to come again in the evening of the first day of the drawing of the lottery. Price pretended, that he seldom went to the nobleman’s town house of an evening, and therefore, to avoid giving him unnecessary trouble, he was to attend in Titchfield-street. On that evening he pulled out a variety of papers, letters, &c., and told Samuel he had received orders from the thoughtless young nobleman to purchase lottery tickets, as a venture against his coming to town, and for that purpose he meant to employ Samuel. He produced some seeming bank-notes, and gave Samuel two, one of twenty pounds, the other of forty pounds. He directed him to take their numbers and dates on a piece of paper, for fear of losing them, and to go to a lottery office in the Hay-market, and with the one of twenty pounds to purchase “an eight guinea chance:” from thence he was to go to the corner of Bridge-street, Westminster, to buy another out of the forty pound note, and wait at the door of the Parliament-street coffee-house till he came to him. With these notes Samuel bought each of the chances, and was on his way to the Parliament-street coffee-house when, from the opposite side of the way, he was hailed by Mr. Brank, who complimented him on his speed, and said he had been so quick, that he, Brank, had not had time to get to the coffee-house. He was then interrogated, if he had made the purchases, and, replying in the affirmative, was again commended for his diligence: Brank also inquired, if any mistake had happened; and all this with a deal of coughing, imbecility of speech, and feigned accent.
When Samuel received the notes, he received as many canvass bags as he was ordered to buy shares, and to put each distinct share, and the balance of each note, into a separate bag, for fear, as Brank said, the chance of one office might be confused with the chance of another, and Samuel be thereby puzzled to know where he had bought the different chances; and by such confusion, or forgetfulness, it might not be recollected where to apply in case of a fortunate number.
Mr. Brank having secured the chances and balances, ordered Samuel to go to Goodluck’s at Charing-cross, from thence to King-street, Covent-garden, and York-street, Covent-garden, and purchase some other small shares and chances, and then meet him at the city coffee-house, Cheapside. To these places the young man went, and having bought his numbers and changed his notes, as he was going along York-street, his master called to him from a coach, pretended he was fortunate in thus seeing him, made Samuel step in, got the produce of the forgery, and away they drove to the city.
In their way thither, Brank applauded his servant’s despatch; gave him more notes, to the amount of four hundred pounds, with instructions to purchase shares and chances, at offices about the Exchange; and directed him, as before, to put the chances and money received at each office in a separate bag. For this purpose Samuel was set down from the coach in Cheapside, and having executed his commissions returned, agreeable to his orders, to the city coffee-house, where he waited a few minutes and then Mr. Brank came hobbling up to him, and took him into a coach, that was waiting hard by. Brank resumed complaints of his health and infirmities, and observed, that the fatigues of business had kept him longer than he expected; but he warned Samuel to be always exceedingly punctual. His reason for urging punctuality was the dread of a discovery, and to prevent consultations, by which he might be detected. On their way to Long-acre, where the coachman was ordered to drive, Brank amused his servant with flattering promises for his attention and fidelity; and at parting put a guinea into his hand, and gave him orders to be in waiting, for a few days, at his old master’s in the Strand.
It afterwards appeared, that whenever Samuel went to an office a woman, unobserved by him, always walked in at the same time, and looked about her as if
On the Sunday morning after Price’s last adventure, a coachman inquired for Samuel at his old master’s, by whom the coachman was informed, that though Sam worked he did not lodge there, and that he should not see him till the next morning. The coachman held a parcel in his hand, which he said was for Samuel, and which the master desired him to leave, and he should have it the next day; the coachman replied, he was ordered not to leave it, but to take it back in case he could not see the man, and accordingly went across the way with it; there the master saw the elderly gentleman, with whom he had conversed on Samuel’s character a few days before, to whom the coachman delivered the parcel. Samuel’s master saw this old gentleman get into a coach; but in a minute the coachman returned and left the parcel, which contained notes to the amount of three hundred pounds, with a letter directing Samuel to buy, on the next morning, a sixteenth, an eight guinea chance, and a whole ticket, to repeat his purchases as before, till the whole were changed, and to meet his master, Mr. Brank, at Mill’s coffee-house, Gerrard-street, Soho, at twelve o’clock the next day. Samuel duly executed these orders, but, on inquiry at the coffee-house, he found no such person as Mr. Brank had been there; in a few minutes, however, as he was standing at the coffee-house door, a coachman summoned him to Mr. Brank, who was waiting in a coach at the corner of Macclesfield-street. He desired Samuel to come in, and made him sit on the left hand, as before described, and having received the tickets, shares, and balances, ordered him to bid the coachman drive towards Hampstead. On the way, he gave Samuel three sixteenths as a reward for his diligence, and talked much of his ward, who, he said, would be in town in a day or two, when he would speak highly of Samuel’s industry. He discoursed on these subjects till they reached Mother Black-cap’s at Kentish-town, and then Samuel received orders to bid the coachman turn round; and, on their way back, Samuel had notes for five hundred pounds given to him, with directions to lay them out in the same manner about the ’Change, and meet his master at the same place in the evening, where he said he should dine; but, for reasons easily imagined, Samuel was ordered not to make his purchases at the offices he had been to before.
Samuel, having performed this task also, went to the coffee-house, where a porter accosted him, and conducted him to his master in a coach as usual. He was now blamed for his delay, and an appearance of anger assumed, with a declaration, that he would not do if not punctual, for that the nobleman was very particular in time, even to a minute. Samuel apologized, and Brank received the cash and shares, and ordered him to go to the New Inn Westminster-bridge and hire a post-chaise to carry them to Greenwich to meet the nobleman’s steward, who was also his banker, to whom he was going for money to purchase more tickets; observing, at the same time, on the imprudence and prodigality of his ward.
At Greenwich, Samuel was desired to go to the Ship and order a dinner, while Brank was engaged, as he pretended, in negociating his business; he instructed him not to wait longer than three o’clock, but go to dinner at that time, if he, Brank, did not return. It was not till half past four that Brank came hobbling, coughing, and seemingly quite out of breath with fatigue. They then drank tea together, and afterwards returned in the chaise to Lombard-street, where it was discharged. There Sam received more notes to the amount of 350l., which he got rid of in the usual way; and at the city coffee-house was again fortunate enough to meet
We now arrive at the close of Samuel’s services. In negociating the last sum he had received, he went to Brooksbank’s and Ruddle’s, where he was interrogated as to whom he lived with; Samuel said he was servant to a very rich nobleman’s guardian, that he was at board-wages, and gave his address to his old master, the musical instrument-maker. Having delivered Brank the cash, &c. in the usual way, he was told, that perhaps he might not be wanted again for a week, and that he might wait till sent for. Before the expiration of that time, however, Samuel was apprehended, and taken to Bow-street, where he was examined by the magistrates and gentlemen from the bank; and telling his artless tale, which was not believed, he was committed to Tothillfields-bridewell, on suspicion of forgery.
The surprise of the poor lad on his apprehension, his horror on being confined in a prison, and his dread of being executed as a forger of counterfeit bank-notes, were only equalled by the astonishment of the directors of the bank and the magistrates, at the sagacity of the manufacturer, who had hitherto evaded every possibility of detection. Nor did they appear at all persuaded of Sam’s innocence, though his story was, in part, confirmed by his former master, the musical instrument-maker. The forged note he had passed at Brooksbank’s and Ruddle’s, where he had been interrogated, was the means of his apprehension. In a day or two it was paid into the bank, traced back to Brooksbank’s and Ruddle’s office, and, immediate application being made to Bow-street, the lad was taken into custody.
Samuel’s examinations were frequent and long, and in the end the following scheme was laid to secure the fabricator. Samuel having been ordered by Brank to stay till he was sent for, an inferior officer of Bow-street was stationed at the musical instrument-maker’s in the Strand, where Samuel worked, in case Brank should call in the mean time. After the lapse of a few days, Price sent Samuel a message to meet him the next day at Mill’s coffee-house, exactly at eleven o’clock. This was communicated to Mr. Bond, a clerk at Bow-street office, who ordered Samuel to comply, but not to go till five minutes past the time. The above inferior officer attended at a distance, disguised as a porter, with a knot on his shoulder, and Bond, dressed as a “lady,” followed at a small distance. When Samuel arrived at the coffee-house he found that a real porter had that instant been there and inquired for him, and could have been hardly got out of the door. This information Samuel directly communicated to the “lady,” (Bond of Bow-street,) and Samuel was sent back to wait; but Brank, in a hackney-coach hard by, had discovered the momentary conversation between Samuel and the disguised officers, and took immediate flight. An instant rush was made at Titchfield-street, but in vain; Blank had not been there since Samuel and he had left it together, and the police were entirely at fault. The advertisements were again issued, and hand-bills were showered around to no purpose. Poor Samuel, however, having tolerably established his innocence, was, after suffering eleven months’ imprisonment, discharged with a present of twenty pounds.
In the ensuing lottery, Price played the same artful game with notes of higher value; those of 20l. and 40l. were grown too suspicious, another lad had been taken into custody, another rush made, and Price was missed again by a moment.
Price’s next scheme was an advertisement for a person in the linen drapery business; and with notes of from 50l. to 100l. two young men, his agents, purchased linen drapery at different shops. They were detected by having passed an 100l. note to Mr. Wollerton, a linen-draper in Oxford-street, who recovered the whole of his property through Bond the officer, by whom it was seized at No. 3, on the Terrace, in Tottenham-court-road.
To follow Price through all his proceedings would be impossible: in November 1782, Mr. Spilsbury of Soho-square, the proprietor of some medicinal “drops,” received a card bearing the name of Wilmott, which had been left by a person who had called at his house in his absence. The next evening the following note was delivered at Mr. Spilsbury’s.
“Mr. Wilmott’s complits to Mr. Spilsbur. wishes to converse with him 10 minutes. having an Order for His drops, at half past five o’clock this evening.
“No. 17, Gresse-street, Rathbone-place.”
At the time mentioned in the note Mr. Spilsbury went to Gresse-street, where he was shown into a parlour by a foot-boy, and waited until Mr. Wilmott made his appearance. He appeared to be a very infirm old man, in a great coat and a slouched hat, with a piece of red flannel round the lower part of his face, a large bush-wig on, and his legs wrapped over with flannel; he wore green spectacles, and a green silk shade hanging from his hat, but no patch on his eye: this was Price. He and Mr. Spilsbury had frequently met at Percy-street coffee-house, Rathbone-place, and often conversed together; but on this occasion Mr. Spilsbury had no idea or recollection of his old acquaintance. As soon as Price entered the parlour, he observed on his own dress; and said he had exceedingly suffered from the drawing of a tooth by an unskilful dentist, and wore the flannel on his face in order to avoid catching cold. He then familiarly conversed with Mr. Spilsbury, extolled the merits of his “drops,” recounted great cures which he knew they had performed, styled himself a dealer in diamonds, and dismissed Mr. Spilsbury with the promise of an order in a few days. It was evidently postponed to strengthen Mr. Spilsbury’s opinion of him, but at last it arrived in the following note:—
“Mr. Wilmott’s compliments to Mr. Spilsbur, desires he will put up twelve bottles of drops at 3s. 6d. against Friday three o’clock. the boy will call and pay for them. also, Mr. Spilsbur will send a copy or form of an Advertisement—and attestation, leaving a blank for the names. the case was—the man was violently broke out in legs, body and face, and he actually had no other physic than two of the bottles. and it is really astonishing how much He is recovered.—when Mr. Wilmott comes to town to-morrow week He will send the voucher authenticated by 6 people of consequence.
“Gresse-street, No. 17.”
The boy did not call on the Friday mentioned; but on the Friday week he brought a letter, in which Mr. Wilmott desired Mr. Spilsbury to send two guineas’ worth of the drops, and change for a 10l. bank-note, and to be particular in sending guineas of good weight. The bank-note appeared to be a new one, change was got in the neighbourhood, and the drops sent; and the next note Mr. Spilsbury received was from Sir Sampson Wright, desiring his attendance at Bow-street, where, to his astonishment, he was informed of the forgery. He related the preceding particulars to the magistrate, and produced the two letters. The officers paid an immediate visit to Gresse-street, but old Mr. Wilmott had previously departed.
Not long after this, Mr. Spilsbury met his acquaintance, Mr. Price, at the Percy-street coffee-house; and there, drinking his chocolate, and talking over the occurrences of the day, Mr. Spilsbury told the foregoing story to his coffee-house acquaintance, while Price every now and then called out “Lack a day! Good God! who could conceive such knavery could exist! What, and did the bank refuse payment, sir?” “O yes,” said Mr. Spilsbury, with some degree of acrimony; “though it is on the faith of the bank of England that I and a great many others have taken them, and they are so inimitably executed, that the nicest judges cannot detect them.” “Good God!” said Price, “he must have been an ingenious villain!—What a complete old scoundrel!”
It is related, that when the celebrated artist William Wynn Ryland was to be executed for forging an East-india bond, Price intreated the use of a dining-room window in Oxford-street, at the house of a gentleman whom he had defrauded in the same manner he had done Mr. Spilsbury; and Price was present when Ryland passed to Tyburn, and on that occasion pointed to Ryland, saying “There goes one of the most ingenious men in the world, but as wicked as he is ingenious—he is the identical man who has done all the mischief in the character of Patch: he deserves his fate, and he would confess the fact, if he was not in hopes of a respite; which he would have obtained, perhaps, had not the directors been certain that it was charity to the public to let him suffer.”
Mention has already been made of the fraud practised by Price on Mr. R. of Knightsbridge. One in a family was not enough for him, and Mr. R’s brother, who lived in Oxford-street, experienced the effect of Price’s ingenuity in crime. Price had been often there, and bought a variety of things, and was perfectly well known
It is an extraordinary and almost incredible fact, that during a period of six years, five of which had elapsed after the remarkable advertisement issued at the instance of the bank in December 1780, Price committed depredations of this nature on the public with impunity. The deceptions by which he circulated his forged notes through so long a period, were as varied as the nature of each new circumstance required. At last he turned another species of forgery, equally artful, and, for a time, equally successful. He went to the coffee-houses near the Royal Exchange in a new disguise, and there was accustomed to get a boy to take a sum of 10l. to the bank, with directions to receive from the teller the customary ticket to the cashier who pays; but the lad had his especial orders not to go to the cashier for the money, as the teller is accustomed to direct, but as soon as the boy was out of the teller’s sight he was to turn another way, and bring the ticket to Price at the coffee-house. There Price used to alter the teller’s tickets from 10l. to 100l. by adding an 0, or by placing a 1 before any other sum where the addition was easy, so as to make 50 into 150, &c., and then send the tickets by other hands to the cashiers, who paid the increased sums unsuspectedly.
This scheme was his last. One of the notes he had received at the bank, on a forged ticket, he had passed at Mr. Aldous’s, a pawn-broker in Berwick-street, where he was known by the name of Powel, and went two or three times a week to pledge things of value. An officer was placed at Mr. Aldous’s till his next call, which was the next day but one, when he was secured and carried to Bow-street. His behaviour there was exceedingly insolent. Mr. Bond, who, when Price kept a lottery-office in King-street, Covent-garden, was clerk at Bow-street, had visited him on account of some money due to Sir John Fielding’s maid servant, gained by insuring with Price, which he had refused to pay her; but when informed by Mr. Bond who her master was, he waited on Sir John, and satisfied her claim. He now taxed Mr. Bond, who had been made a magistrate, with prejudice against him on account of the insurance affair, and complained that he should not have justice done him. He also urged against Mr. Abraham Newland, esq., principal cashier of the bank, that he could expect nothing from him but every possible injury, on account of some former antipathy that gentleman had conceived towards him; and he imputed desire of revenge to every individual whose duty it was to render him amenable to justice.
When under examination, the chief magistrate, Sir Sampson Wright, suddenly called out “Sam;” the young man immediately answered, and at the same
When Mrs. Pounteney received the letter, she burnt every article of clothes in which Price had disguised himself, and sent for a carpenter, to whom he had never been visible, to take down the wood frame, presses, and other instruments with which Price had made his paper, and printed off his notes. While the maid was gone for the carpenter, her mistress put the copper-plates into the fire, and, rendering them pliable, reduced them to small pieces. These, with a large bundle of small wires, used in the manufacture of the paper and water-marks, she desired Price’s son to take to the adjacent fields, and there distribute them beneath the dust heaps; and the pieces lay there till, by a stratagem, they were discovered and brought to Bow-street. The carpenter took down the apparatus, and being paid and despatched, every thing was brought down and reduced to ashes.
Throughout Price’s examinations, his assurance was the most remarkable feature in his conduct; but the audacity by which he sought to baffle his accusers was so reckless, as to disclose a circumstance which largely added to the grounds for believing him to be the criminal who had so long eluded justice. From the extreme art he had adopted to effectually disguise his person, while committing his enormous frauds, there was no connected proof of his identity. Long before his apprehension, he had hazarded experiments to discover whether his disguises were effectual. He would go to the coffee-houses about the ’Change, where he was thoroughly well known as Mr. Price, and in his real character inquire for Mr. Norton, write a letter, and leave it at the bar. In ten minutes he would return as Mr. Norton, receive the letter, and drink his coffee. While in Tothillfields-bridewell, a boy who had more than once taken cash for him to the tellers at the bank, together with the boy’s mother, who had also seen him, were conveyed to the prison to view him. The boy could not at all identify him: the mother was more positive, but still the proof was deemed scarcely sufficient to convict him. He had pledged things of value several times, under the name of Powel, with Mr. Aldous. Mrs. Pounteney had done the same in the character of Mrs. Powel. They had talked of each other, and each of them had at different times pledged the same article; yet Price on his examination denied the least knowledge of her; impudently threatened to bring actions for false imprisonment; and ridiculing the officers for not finding a ten pound note in his fob, under his watch, when he was searched, he heedlessly produced it—this identical note was one of the notes delivered by the cashier upon a teller’s ticket which Price had forged!
Price had been brought up three times for the purpose of being viewed, and his sagacity perceived the impossibility of his escaping the hand of justice. He told the keeper he had been “betrayed,” but this was not the fact. Meditating to avoid a public execution, he informed his son that the people of the prison came into his room sooner than he wished; and that he had something secret to write, which they might get at by suddenly coming upon him, which he wished to prevent. On this pretence he gave his son money to purchase two gimblets and a sixpenny cord, pointing out to him how he would fasten the gimblets in the post, and tie the cord across the door, which opened inwards. The poor youth obtained the implements, and Price having
Under his waistcoat were found three papers. One was a petition to the king, praying protection for his wife and eight children; all of whom, he said, had never offended; and stating, that he had written a pamphlet with a view to prevent a war between the crowns of England and Denmark, and to rescue the character of queen Matilda from the aspersions of the queen dowager’s party. The second was a letter of thanks to Mr. Fenwick, the keeper of the prison, for his indulgence and favours. The third was a letter to his wife, wherein he begged her forgiveness for the injuries he had done her, and intreated her attention to their offspring. In these papers, written with his dying hand, the guilty man solemnly denied every thing laid to his charge!
Immediately upon Price’s self-destruction, his unhappy wife, who had been innocent of his iniquities, was urged to discover the woman with whom he had been connected. She was assured, that though the verdict of a coroner’s inquest must be formally complied with, yet, if she rendered this act of justice to the country, his remains might afterwards receive christian burial. Her son was present and added his intreaties that she would tell, or suffer him to tell, who and where the woman was; the feelings of the widow and the mother prevailed, and she communicated the residence of her depraved aunt, who, on being taken into custody, disclosed several of the circumstances attending the destruction and concealment of the presses and implements. What remained of them were destroyed by the police, and she was delivered out of custody to the punishment of her own thoughts. It was afterwards ascertained, on a second search, that she had not discovered all the machinery. The frame with which Price had made his paper was produced to her, and she was asked what it was: “It is an instrument,” she said, “I use for mangling.” An answer which may be taken as evidence, that notwithstanding the example of Price might have taught her the folly of wickedness, and though she herself had escaped by the sufferance of extreme mercy, her mind was still disposed to evil.
Price was buried in the cross-roads, but, in about a week, his body was privately removed by night.
These particulars of Price are more numerous, and the account of him is more diffuse, than might be expected in connection with the lottery; but as he was too remarkable to have been omitted among its incidents, so his criminal career was too flagitious and notorious to be lightly passed over when he was mentioned at all.
Price’s lottery-office, in King-street, Covent-garden, was the house now (in 1826) occupied by Mr. Setchell, the bookseller. On part of the wall where Mr. Setchell’s shutters are placed, there are remains of Price’s lottery-bills still visible.
Lottery Suicide and Heartbreaking.
The “Gentleman’s Magazine” of 1787 inserts what is called “a copy of a paper left by the unhappy young gentleman who lately shot himself with two pistols in Queen-street, Westminster,” wherein he execrates “the head that planned, and the heart that executed, the baneful, destructive plan of a Lottery.”
The same year, in a debate in the house of commons on a bill then passing to prevent insurance, Mr. Francis said his own family furnished a striking instance of the dreadful effects of a passion for this ruinous practice. He had given, at different times, to a female servant sums of money to the amount of two hundred pounds, to discharge tradesmen’s bills; and, to his great surprise, he found afterwards that, regardless of his character, or her own, she had risked the entire sum in insuring in the lottery, and had lost it. He would have been glad had the loss of money been the only one, for he would have taken it upon himself; but the poor woman lost her life within a week after this discovery had been made, dying broken-hearted and distracted.
Sharing a Prize.
In the Lottery of 1788 a guinea share of a ticket drawn a 20,000l. prize had been duly registered by Shergold and Co. who sold it, and acquainted the holder by letter that it entitled him to 1500l. This lucky man, who lived in the country, attended his club the same evening, and imparted the good news he had received. His joy, however, was considerably damped by a person present, who assured him that he never would be paid—that
At the Haymarket theatre, in 1791, a comedy, called the “School for Arrogance,” was produced with a prologue spoken in the character of a news-hawker, with the Lottery as one of the topics of intelligence.
After sounding, and calling “Great News!” without; he enters with a postman’s horn, newspapers, cap and livery.
By honest, tender-hearted, christian jews!
Here are promotions, dividends, rewards,
A list of bankrupts, and of new made lords.
Here the debates at length are, for the week;
And here the deaf and dumb are taught to speak.
Here Hazard, Goodluck, Shergold, and a band
Of gen’rous gentlemen, whose hearts expand
With honour, rectitude, and public spirit,
Equal in high desert, with equal merit,
Divide their tickets into shares and quarters;
And here’s a servant-maid found hanging in her garters!
Here! here’s the fifty thousand, sold at ev’ry shop!
And here’s the “Newgate Calendar”—and drop.
Rare news! strange news! extraordinary news!
Who would not give three halfpence to peruse?
Shergolds seem to have persisted in a course of attempts to evade the law, by a peculiar mode of dividing and insuring tickets; but in Michaelmas term, 1791, the question was argued in the court of King’s-bench on a special verdict, whether the sellers of their receipts were liable to be apprehended and committed as vagrants under the Lottery act, and the court determined, that they were vagrants within the true intent of the act.
Insuring.
In February, 1793, the commissioners of the Lottery, in order to abate insuring, determined that no persons should be suffered to take down numbers, except the clerks of licensed offices known to the commissioners: no slips were to be sent out; but the numbers were to be taken down by one clerk in one book; Steel’s list of lottery numbers was to be abolished, and a recompence made for it; and the magistrates resolved to apprehend all suspicious persons who should be seen taking early numbers.
Yet, in 1796, we find “a class of sharpers, who take Lottery Insurances,” and that this gambling, among the higher and middling ranks, was carried on to an extent exceeding all credibility, producing consequences to many private families, of great worth and respectability, of the most distressing nature.—Mr. Colquhoun represents them as “a class, in general, of very depraved or distressed characters, who keep unlicensed insurance offices, during the drawing of the English and Irish Lotteries;” many of whom, during the intervals of such lotteries, had recently invented and set up private lotteries, or wheels, called little goes, containing blanks and prizes, which were drawn for the purpose of establishing a ground for insurance, and producing incalculable mischiefs, inasmuch as the rage and
Such persons, with a spirit of gambling rendered more ardent than prevails in common life, from the example of their superiors, and from their idle and dissipated habits, entered keenly into the Lottery business; and when ill luck attended them were often led, step by step, to that point where they lost sight of moral principle, and were impelled, by desire of regaining what they had lost, to sell or pawn the property of their masters, whenever it could be pilfered so as to elude detection; and this species of peculation sometimes terminated in more atrocious crimes.
The insurance offices in the metropolis exceeded four hundred in number. To many of them persons were attached, called Morocco Men, who went from house to house among their customers, or attended in the back parlours of public-houses, where they were met by them to make insurances.
It was calculated, that at these offices (exclusive of what was done at the licensed offices) insurances were made to the extent of eight hundred thousand pounds, in premiums during the Irish Lottery, and above one million during the English; upon which it was calculated that they made from fifteen to twenty-five per cent. profit. This confederacy, during the English Lottery of the year 1796, supported about 2000 agents and clerks, and nearly 7500 Morocco men, including a considerable number of ruffians and bludgeon men, paid by a general association of the principal proprietors of the establishments, who regularly met in committee, in a well-known public-house in Oxford-market, twice or thrice a week, during the drawing of the lottery, for the purpose of concerting measures to defeat the exertions of the magistrates, by forcibly resisting or bribing the officers of justice.
The Lottery was declared to be inseparable from illegal insurances, by the parliamentary reports of 1807; and they further state, that “the Lottery is so radically vicious, that under no system of regulations which can be devised will it be possible for parliament to adopt it as an efficient source of revenue, and at the same time divest it of all the evils and calamities of which it has hitherto been so baneful a source.” Among these evils and calamities, the committees of parliament enumerate that “idleness, dissipation, and poverty, were increased,—the most sacred and confidential trusts were betrayed—domestic comfort was destroyed—madness was often created—suicide itself was produced—and crimes subjecting the perpetrators of them to death were committed.”
Little Goes.
These were little Lotteries on the same plan as the great State Lotteries, and drawn in the same manner. There were generally five or six “little goes” in the year, and they were actually set up and conducted by two or three of the licensed lottery-office keepers. The State Lottery was the parent of these “little goes.” Persons who had not patience to wait till another State Lottery gambled during the vacations in a “little go.” A “little go” was never heard of during the State Lotteries.
The Great Go.
Sir Nathaniel Conant, who in 1816 was chief magistrate of the police establishment at Bow-street, stated in that year to a committee of the house of commons, that the Lottery was one of the predisposing causes by which the people of the metropolis were vitiated; that it
Conclusion.
Incredible efforts were made in the summer of 1826 to keep the “last lottery” on its legs. The price of tickets was arbitrarily raised, to induce a belief that they were in great demand at the very moment when their sale was notoriously at a stand; and the lagging attention of the public of the metropolis was endeavoured to be quickened, by all sorts of stratagems, to the 18th of July, as the very last chance that would occur in England of gaining “Six 30,000l. besides other Capitals,” which it was positively affirmed were “all to be drawn” on that fatal day. Besides the dispersion of innumerable bills, and the aspersions on government relative to the approaching extinction of the Lottery, the parties interested in its preservation caused London and its environs to be paraded by the following
Procession.
1. Three men in liveries, scarlet and gold.
2. Six men bearing boards at their backs and on their breasts, with inscriptions in blue and gold, “All Lotteries end Tuesday next, six 30,000l.”
3. Band of trumpets, clarionets, horns, &c.
4. A large purple silk banner carried by six men, inscribed in large gold letters “All Lotteries end for ever on Tuesday next, six 30,000l.”
5. A painted carriage, representing the Lottery wheel, drawn by two dappled grey horses, tandem fashion; the fore horse rode by a postillion in scarlet and gold, with a black velvet cap, and a boy seated in a dickey behind the machine, turning the handle and setting the wheel in motion.
6. Six men with other Lottery labels.
7. A square Lottery carriage, surmounted by a gilt imperial crown; the carriage covered by labels, with “All Lotteries end on Tuesday next;” drawn by two horses, tandem, and a postillion.
8. Six men with labels.
9. Twelve men in blue and gold, with boards or poles with “Lotteries end for ever on Tuesday next.”
10. A large purple silk flag, with “all Lotteries end on Tuesday next.”
This procession with its music drew the heads of the servant maids from the windows in every suburb of the metropolis, and was followed by troops of boys, till they tired on its frequency. It sometimes stopped, and a man with a bell cried “O yes!” and “God save the king!” and, between the two, proclaimed, in set words, the “death of the Lottery on Tuesday next!” The event was likewise announced as certain in all the newspapers, and by cart-loads of bills showered down areas, and thrust under knockers; when, behold, “the Lords of the Treasury were pleased to order” the final drawing to be postponed to Thursday the 18th of October; but all the good people so informed were wisely uninformed, that this “order” was obtained by the lottery-office folks, to give them a long day to get rid of their unsold tickets.
After this, the streets were cavalcaded by men, whose bodies were concealed between long boards on each side of their horses (as represented in the engraving on page 1407) to announce the next “last of the Lottery on the 18th of October” aforesaid; and men on foot walked with labels on their breasts and backs, with the same never-dying intelligence, according to the further figure in the engraving of the lottery wheel (on page 1439,) which cut, it may be here observed, represents one of the government wheels, and the sledge it was drawn upon from Somerset-house to Coopers’-hall, at
But the most pageant-like machine was an octagon frame work, covered by printed Lottery placards (as exhibited in the engraving on page 1405) with a single horse, and a driver, and a guard-like seat at the back. When drawn along the streets, as it was at a most funereal pace, it overtopped the sills of the first-floor windows. Its slow motion, and the route it chiefly took, evidenced the low hopes of the proprietors. St. Giles’s and the purlieus of that neighbourhood seem to have been selected as the favoured spots from whence favours were mostly to be expected. An opportunity offered to sketch it, while it was pelted with mud and stones, and torn and disfigured by the unappreciating offspring of the sons of fortune whose regards it courted. The artist’s letter describes the scene: “As I was walking up Holborn on Monday the 9th instant, I saw a strange vehicle moving slowly on, and when I came up to it, found a machine, perhaps from twenty to thirty feet high, of an octagon shape, covered all over with Lottery papers of various colours. It had a broad brass band round the bottom, and moved on a pivot; it had a very imposing effect. The driver and the horse seemed as dull as though they were attending a solemn funeral, whilst the different shopkeepers came to the doors and laughed; some of the people passing and repassing read the bills that were pasted on it, as if they had never read one before, others stationed themselves to look at it as long as it was in sight. It entered Monmouth-street, that den of filth and rags, where so great a number of young urchins gathered together in a few minutes as to be astonishing. There being an empty chair behind, one of them seated himself in it, and rode backwards; another said, “let’s have a stone through it,” and a third cried “let’s sludge it.” This was no sooner proposed than they threw stones, oyster shells, and dirt, and burst several of the sheets; this attack brought the driver from his seat, and he was obliged to walk by the side of his machine up this foul street, which his show canvassed, halting now and then to threaten the boys, who still followed and threw. I made a sketch, and left the scene. It was not an every-day occurrence, and I accompany it with these remarks.”
This was the fag-end of the last struggle of the speculators on public credulity for popularity to their “last, dying Lottery.”
At last, on Wednesday the 18th of October, 1826, the State Lottery expired, and its decease was announced in the newspapers of the next day by the following article:—
State Lottery.
Yesterday afternoon, at about half past six o’clock, that old servant of the state, the Lottery, breathed its last, having for a long period of years, ever since the days of queen Anne, contributed largely towards the public revenue of the country. This event took place at Coopers’-hall, Basinghall-street; and such was the anxiety on the part of the public to witness the last drawing of the Lottery, that great numbers of persons were attracted to the spot, independently of those who had an interest in the proceedings. The gallery of Coopers’-hall was crowded to excess long before the period fixed for the drawing, (five o’clock,) and the utmost anxiety was felt by those who had shares in the Lottery for the arrival of the appointed hour. The annihilation of Lotteries, it will be recollected, was determined on in the session of parliament before last; and thus a source of revenue bringing into the treasury the sums of 250,000l. and 300,000l. per annum will be dried up. This determination on the part of the legislature is hailed by far the greatest portion of the public with joy, as it will put an end to a system which many believe to have fostered and encouraged the late speculations, the effects of which have been and are still severely felt. A deficiency in the public revenue to the extent of 250,000l. annually, will, however, be the consequence of the annihilation of Lotteries, and it must remain for those who have strenuously supported the putting a stop to Lotteries to provide for the deficiency.
Although that which ended yesterday was the last, if we are informed correctly, the lottery-office keepers have been left with a great number of tickets remaining on their hands—a pretty strong proof that the public in general have now no relish for these schemes.
The concourse of persons in Basinghall-street was very great; indeed the street was almost impassable, and everybody seemed desirous of ascertaining the fortunate numbers. In the gallery the greatest interest was excited, as the various prizes were drawn from the wheel; and as soon as a number-ticket was drawn from the number-wheel every one looked with anxiety to his share, in order to ascertain if Fortune smiled on him. Only one instance occurred where a prize was drawn and a number held by any individual present. The fortunate person was a little man, who, no sooner had learned that his number was a grand prize, then he buttoned up his coat and coolly walked off without uttering a word. As the drawing proceeded, disappointment began to succeed the hopes indulged by those who were present. On their entrance to the hall every face wore a cheerful appearance; but on the termination of the drawing a strong contrast was exhibited, and the features of each were strongly marked with dissatisfaction.
The drawing commenced shortly after five o’clock, and ended at twenty minutes past six.
The doors of the various Lottery-offices were also surrounded by persons awaiting the issue of the drawing.
Lottery Puffs.
It is not possible to go into the Literature of the Lottery without occupying more room than can be spared, but young readers and posterity may be amused and surprised by some figures, from among many hundreds of wood-cuts on the bills of schemes, and invitations to buy.
“T. BISH, 4 Cornhill, and 9 Charing-cross, London, and by all his agents in the country,” put forth the following.
Kitchen Maid.
At the Scheme only look,
In wealth we may both of us roll,
If we brush for a Prize
In the world we may rise,
And our skuttles have plenty of cole.
Cook Maid.
I am all in a stew,
Lest we miss what we so much desire;
Should we lose this good plan,
For a sup in the pan,
All the fat will be soon in the fire!
from the basement to the capital story.
When Fortune’s merry wheel, it will never turn more;
She now supplies all Numbers, you’re desiring,
All Prizes, No Blanks, and Twenty Thousands Four.
When, without pain, for little Cash—you’ll all be rich;
Prizes a plenty of—and such a certain source of gain,
That young and old, and all the world, it must bewitch.
Then run, neighbours, run, &c.
This versified address and the engraving are from another bill. The verses may be presumed as sung by the footman, to excite his fellows of the party-coloured cloth to speculate in the never-enough-to-be-sufficiently-magnified-number of chances in favour of their gaining “Four of £20,000, and—Thirty other Capitals! No Blanks!—All in One Day!” Yet if the words, adapted from a popular duet, were regarded as an easy vehicle to effect that benevolent purpose, they could only be so to those who, with the contractors, forgot, or perhaps, with them, did not know, that the original tells of
Surely this must have been a “word of fear” to all except the contractors themselves, who alone would be the gainers by what the body of adventurers hazarded in the “grand scheme” of “cajolery.”
One of the bills of a former Lottery begins as follows:—
BISH
The Last Man.
In reminding his best friends, the public, that the State Lottery will be drawn this day, 3d May, Bish acquaints them that it is the very last but one that will ever take place in this kingdom, and he is THE LAST CONTRACTOR whose name will appear singly before the public, as the very last will be a coalition of all the usual contractors. Bish, being “the last man” who appears singly, has been particularly anxious to make an excellent scheme, and flatters himself the one he has the honour to submit must meet universal approbation.
At the back of this bill are the following verses, derived from the “cajolery” duet:—
TO-DAY! OR NOT AT ALL
Run, Neighbours, Run!
You still may be in time if your purse be low;
Rhino we all know will stop, of poverty, the flaws,
Possess’d of that you’ll find no one to serve you slow:
The ministers in parliament of Lotteries have toll’d the knell,
And have declar’d from Coopers’-hall dame Fortune soon they will expel.
The blue-coat boys no more will shout that they have drawn a capital!
Nor run, as tho’ their necks they’d break, to Lucky Bish the news to tell.
Run, neighbours, run! &c.
Run, neighbours, run! this is you know the third of May,
’Tis the day dame Fortune doth her levee hold;
In the scheme, as you may see, are rang’d along in proud array,
Of one and twenty thousands six, in notes or gold!
A sov’reign cure e’en one of these would be for a consumption, sir,
If such disease your pocket has, so if you’ve any gumption, sir,
You’ll lose no time, but haste away, and buy a share or ticket, sir,
For who can tell but this may be the very hour to nick it, sir?
Run, neighbours, run! &c.
Run, neighbours, run! the times they say are not the best,
And cash ’tis own’d is falling short with high and low;
Bankers retire now, while Notaries have little rest,
And what may happen next no one pretends to know.
Dame Fortune (on whom thousands drew) is going now to shut up shop,
So if you’d cash a draft on her, make haste for soon her bank will stop;
This very day her wheel goes round, when thousands with her gifts she’ll cheer,
For those who can her smiles obtain may gaily laugh throughout the year.
Run, neighbours, run! &c.
“Bish,” as the contractor is pleased to call himself, who, after he was “the last man,” dilated into a member of parliament, employed the greatest number of Lottery-laureates of any office keeper of his time; and he and the schemes wherein he engaged were lauded, in prose as well as verse, by his “ready writers.” One of their productions says:—
JOHN BULL’s
Wonder
At monsieur Nong-tong-paw’s ubiquity could not be greater than the astonishment of a French gentleman, who popped into BISH’s office the other day to inquire after the capitals.—“You vill be so good to tell me de nombre of de capital you tirÉ—you draw yesterday?”—“Why, sir, there were....”—“Restez un peu, stay a littel moment.—You will tell me de capital more big dan two hundred pounds.”—“Why, sir, there were four drawn above 200l.: there was No. 7849 30,000l.”—“Ah! ma foi! dat is good dat is de grande chose. Vel, and by whom was it sel?”—“Bish sold it, sir.” “Bish, ha, ha! von lucky dog! vel, allons!”—“There was No. 602, 1000l., sir.”—“Ah, indeed! vel, who was sel
“Bish” is the subject of versified praise, in another bill.
How to be Happy.
And lock their chests with care;
Whilst we enjoy what life affords,
With spirits light as air.
For our days shall haily gaily be,
Prizes in store before us,
We’ll spend our ev’nings merrily.
And BISH we’ll toast in chorus.
And heave the tender sigh:
Whilst we embrace the glittering prize,
And meagre care defy.
For our days shall haily gaily be,
Plenty in store before us;
Our cash we’ll jingle merrily,
And BISH we’ll toast in chorus.
To dare the crimson’d field;
Sweet Fortune’s charms are brighter far,
Her golden arms we’ll wield.
Then our days will haily gaily be,
Riches in store before us;
We’ll dance through life most merrily,
And BISH we’ll toast in chorus.
“Bish” on another occasion steps in with:—
PERMIT ME TO ASK
Have you seen the scheme of the present Lottery?
Do you know that it contains More Prizes than Blanks?
Have you heard how very cheap the tickets are?
Are you aware, that Lotteries are about to be discontinued, the chancellor of the exchequer having said that the Lottery bill, introduced last session of parliament, should be the last?
I need not direct you to Bish’s, as being the luckiest offices in the kingdom, &c.
“Bish” adventured in the “City Lottery,” a scheme devised for getting rid of the houses in Picket-street, Temple-bar, and Skinner-street, Snow-hill; and on that occasion he favoured the world with the following:—
Freeholds and Fortunes.
By Peter Pun.
Tune.—“Drops of Brandy.”
And blind, as her portraits reveal, sir;
Then the best way the goddess to fix,
Is by putting a spoke in her wheel, sir:
Her favours the Lott’ry unfolds,
Then the summons to BISH don’t scorn sir;
For, as her cornucopia he holds,
He’s the lad for exalting your horn, sir.
Rum ti iddity, &c.
And live upon orts in a garret, sir,
Who could get a good house of his own,
And fatten on roast beef and claret, sir!
In the city scheme this you’ll obtain,
At Bish’s, where all folks pell-mell come,
By a ticket a free-hold you’ll gain,
And it cannot be more free than welcome.
Rum ti iddity, &c.
Upholders will look sharp as lynxes,
For an order to Egyptianize it,
With catacomb fal lals and sphynxes;
Chairs and tables, a mummy-like crew,
With crocodile grooms of the stole, sir,
Sarcophagus coal-skuttles too,
And at Bish’s you’ll fill them with cole, sir.
Rum ti iddity, &c.
And a pretty establishment got, sir,
Ten to one but it pops in your pate,
You’ll want sticks to be boiling the pot, sir;
Then to Bish’s away for supplies,
For mopusses they are so plenty,
You may choose a ten thousand pound prize,
And if you don’t like it a twenty.
Rum ti iddity, &c.
The like of him never was known, sir;
As Brulgruddery says in the play,
“That man’s the philosopher’s stone, sir.”
Who makes all your fortunes so handy?
Buy his tickets as fast as you can,
And drink him in drops of brandy.
Rum ti iddity, &c.
“Bish” seems to have deemed “the Philosopher’s stone,” which never existed but in silly imaginations, to be a proper device for drawing customers. It is repeated in
PADDY’S PURSUIT,
A NEW SONG.
To England’s swate Island a fortune to gain;
Where I heard that the strates were all paved with gold,
And the hedges grew Guineas! so Paddy was told!
I jump’d on dry land to my neck up in water,
Which to some spalpeens gave subject for laughter;
But, says I, with a grin, as I dragg’d myself out,
“I’m not come to England to be food for a trout.”
Fal de ral, de ral lal, O whack!
Then to London I came, that monstracious city,
Where the lads dress so gay, and the ladies look pratty;
But, Och! blood-and-ouns! only mark my surprise,
When only great stones in the strates met my eyes!
No Guineas at all on the bushes there grew;
Not a word that they told me, I found, sirs, was true:
“Och! why wa’n’t I drown’d, and made food for the fish!”
Thus I growled, ’till I lighted on one Master Bish.
Fal de ral, &c.
Master Bish had found out the Philosopher’s stone,
And a Thousand yellow Guineas he gave me for One!
Thus Fortune to Pat was monstraciously kind,
Tho’ no gold on the bushes or strates I could find!
Then honeys attend, and pursue my advice;
Och! to 9, Charing-cross, be off in a trice;
Buy a Lottery Chance, for the Drawing Day’s near,
And perhaps, like friend Paddy, a Fortune you’ll clear.
Fal de ral, &c.
“Bish” we find again attempting to attract, with the following:—
THE
PHILOSOPHER’S STONE.
Philosophers in vain so long have sought,
Says Milton, would not prove more valuable to its possessor than an absolute knowledge of certain numbers which lie hidden in the Wheel of Fortune till Fate declares to the enraptured ears of the adventurer, who has founded his hopes of success on them, their union with certain large sums of money, viz. Twenty, Ten, or Five Thousand Pounds; for there are many such sums yet in the wheel, yet to be determined, yet to be gained by hazarding a mere trifle.
Must often throw a sprat to catch a whale.
Apply this proverb then; think, ere too late,
What fortune, honour, and what wealth await
The very trifling sum
“Bish,” of course, imagined, or wished, the public to be amazingly surprised at his popularity, and therefore indulged them with this song:
WHAT’S THE MATTER?
By Quintin Query, Esq.
Tune.—“O Dear, what can the Matter be?”
To tell, who can be at a loss?
The people are running by dozens to Bish’s,
To make out their dreams, and fulfil all their wishes,
And try to come in for the loaves and the fishes,
At 4, Cornhill, and 9, Charing-cross.
“O dear, what can the matter be?”
I’ll tell you, good friend, if you wish;
The people are trying dame Fortune to cozen,
And the old women’s tongues are eternally buzzing,
About lucky numbers, 19 to the dozen,
And all they can talk of is Bish.
“O dear, what can the matter be?”
I dare say you’re dying to know;
The horns blow about, be it rainy or sunny,
The walls they are cover’d with bills all so funny,
To shew you the way how to finger the money,
And you all know that “makes the mare go.”
“O dear, what can the matter be?”
The bellman he rings such a peal?
To tell those whose fortunes are rusted with rickets,
To call at good luck’s (that is, Bish’s) two wickets,
How conceited they’d make a man feel!
“O dear, what can the matter be?”
For joy you’ll be dancing a jig;
For good luck most folks are delighted to choose a day,
And a lucky day surely must be a good news day,
Then the day of all days is the very next Tuesday;
Then, Misfortune’s black Monday a fig!
“Bish,” on another occasion, treated the “gentle public,” like so many children, with another optical delusion.
FORTUNE’S GALANTY SHOW.
Tune.—“GALANTY SHOW.”
Look in at one of these little glasses, and you shall see what you shall see;
My fine galanty show you great wonders shall view in,
You shall see the high road to Fortune, and that’s better than the road to Ruin.
O pretty show, O raree show, O finey galanty show, O pretty galanty show!
Fewer Tickets, and fewer Blanks, and yet the Prizes are more;
And besides the usual 5’s, 10’s, and 20 Thousands (Peep thro’ one of these wickets,)
You shall see such a Prize as was never yet known, neither more nor less than 1000 whole Tickets!
O pretty show, &c.
And there you shall see, (Look a little to the right) Mr. BISH’s Shop on Cornhill:
(Now a little to the left) And there’s his other Shop at Charing-cross, where buy Shares if you will;
You’ll get a part of the 1000 whole Tickets, I’ll be bound,
And that’s very much like getting a part of more than a Hundred Thousand Pounds!
O pretty show, &c.
Then look straight forward, and there you see Coopers’ Hall, (Isn’t it a fine building?) there the Tickets they draw;
And there you see the pretty little Blue-coat Boys, and nicer little fellows you never saw;
There you’ll see ’em pulling the Numbers and Prizes out of the very Grand Wheels
And when one has a Ticket in the Lottery, and sees such a sight, how narvous one feels!
O pretty show, &c.
And there—(Rub the glass a little cleaner) there’s a sight I’d not have you miss fora pound,
The little Boy draws out a Number (Let me see what Number you have got) aye, that’s it, I’ll be bound;
There don’t the Clerk (On the left hand) look exactly as if he was calling it, don’t you see how he cries?
And the other little Boy draws, and the other Clerk looks as if he bawl’d out a £20,000 Prize.
O pretty show, &c.
There you see (’tis no Dream of Castles in the Air, called Utopia)
There you see Fortune pouring the Guineas out of—what the deuce is it? a great long hard name—Oh! her Cornucopia!
That’s a fine Golden Horn, that holds all the Prizes, I declare,
And to get its Contents would be a pretty Horn Fair!
O pretty show, &c.
“Bish” was pleased to devise the scheme of a Lottery to be drawn on St. Swithin’s day, wherein wine was added to the prizes, and therefore, and because its novelty was deemed alluring, we find one of his bills beginning with an apostrophising and prophetic couplet:—
Instead of rain pour showers of gold and wine!
Another in the same Lottery, beneath a wood-cut of a bunch of grapes, breaks out:—
Of wine given gratis by BISH,
If you can get but a share, you’ll have plenty to spare,
And can treat all your friends as you wish.
“Bish,” on the same occasion, throws the “leer of invitation,” with
TRY IN TIME.
We may now get wine gratis, for nothing at all;
And gold like paratees pil’d up in a heap,
Which is offer’d us too, honey, almost as cheap.
For ’tis all in one day, on the 15th July.
And since the grand scheme is beyond all compare,
He’s a spalpeen who won’t buy a fortunate share.
“Bish,” in another bill, oddly enough, put an old, one-legged smoker, with a patch over one eye, a carbuncled nose, and his only foot flannelled up for the gout, the effects of drinking, in an arm chair, with the following lines below:—
“Laid up in Port.”
Like a lazy land-lubber ashore;
If I’m laid up at all, I’ll be laid up in port,
And surrounded by prizes galore.
Tommy Bish shall fill my glass,
And the puppies, as they pass,
Sha’n’t run down the old commodore,
The rich old commodore, the cosey old commodore,
The boozing old commodore he;
While I’m friends with mighty Bish,
He will crown my ev’ry wish,
Tho’ I’ll never more be fit for sea.
Then also, “Bish” favoured his “friends” with the opportunity of singing,
Bacchus and Plutus, or the Union.
Tune.—“Derry Down.”
For Plutus and Bacchus for precedence strove;
And in words such as these did their anger express,
Till Jove swore he’d kick them both out of the mess.
Derry down.
Determin’d, he swore, to have the whip hand;
And thus he began.—“Why, you sordid old elf,
All your thoughts are employ’d in the scraping of pelf.
Like the juice of the grape, or a full flowing bowl?
Can the glittering bauble such pleasure impart,
Or make the blood circle so warm round the heart?
As my vot’ries oft find when the reck’ning’s to pay;
Had gold ne’er existed, the true jolly fellow
For ever might tipple, and always get mellow.
But the wine in his noddle usurp’d the command,—
A knock-’em-down argument Bacchus soon found,
For quickly he measur’d his length on the ground.
And this speech he address’d to the knobs of the skies:—
“That gold is a blessing, I’m sure I can prove:
The soother of cares, and cementer of love!
’Tis something about—‘when she enters the door,
That love, through the window, soon toddles away;’
But if there were gold, I’m sure that he’d stay.
But pray why should I, sirs, for that be abus’d?”
Here Jove stopp’d him short, and with positive air,
Insisted that they should their quarrel forbear.
But a plan to unite you, I now have in view;
You know Tommy Bish?”—“To be sure!” exclaim all,
“’Tis on him, that dame Fortune her bounty lets fall!”
Where money and wine each come in for a share;
There are three thirty thousands to gratify you;
And the twelve pipes of wine, sirs, for Bacchus will do.”
I’ll tipple his wine, till no more I can stand;
And as Jove has inform’d us there’s money enough,
Why you, Mister Plutus, can finger the stuff.
How greatly last Lott’ry his luck has prevail’d;
The three twenty thousands, he sold (the rum fish!)
Then let us be off, and buy tickets of BISH!”
Derry down.
“Bish,” who in the former bill had subjoined, in plain prose, that “lotteries must end for ever,” likewise issued the following—
Duties on wines.
The minister in reducing the duty, so that wines may be sold at one shilling per bottle cheaper, has done much to increase the spirits of the people; at the same time he has adopted another measure that will in a few months DESTROY THE FREE TRADE of every person in the kingdom to obtain for a small sum a great fortune in a few weeks, by having determined to abolish Lotteries, which must soon end for ever; therefore, the present is one of the last opportunities to buy, &c.
“Bish,” according to the old plan, “ever ready to serve his friends,” issued
THE AMBULATOR’S GUIDE
to the Land of Plenty.
By purchasing a TICKET,
In the present Lottery,
You may reap a golden harvest in Cornhill, and pick up the bullion in Silver-street; have an interest in Bank-buildings; possess a Mansion-house in Golden-square, and an estate like a Little Britain; pour red wine down Gutter-lane; never be in Hungerford-market; but all your life continue a May-fair.
By purchasing a HALF,
You need never be confined within London-wall, but become the proprietor of many a Long-acre; represent a Borough, or an Aldermanbury; and have a snug share in Threadneedle-street.
By purchasing a QUARTER,
Your affairs need never be in Crooked-lane, nor your legs in Fetter-lane; you may avoid Paper-buildings; steer clear of the King’s-bench, and defy the Marshalsea; if your heart is in Love-lane, you may soon get into Sweetings-alley, obtain your lover’s consent for Matrimony-place, and always live in a High-street.
By purchasing an EIGHTH,
You may ensure plenty of provision for Swallow-street; finger the Cole in Coleman-street; and may never be troubled with Chancery-lane; you may cast anchor in Cable-street; set up business in a Fore-street, or a Noble-street; and need never be confined within a Narrow-wall.
By purchasing a SIXTEENTH,
You may live frugal in Cheapside; get merry in Liquorpond-street; soak your hide in Leather-lane; be a wet sole in Shoe-lane; turn maltster in Beer-lane, or hammer away in Smithfield.
In short, life must indeed be a Long-lane, if it’s without a turning. Therefore if you are wise, without Mincing the matter, be Fleet and go Pall-mall to Cornhill or Charing-cross, and enroll your name in the Temple of Fortune, BISH’s.
Lottery for Women in India.
Advertisement.
“BE IT KNOWN, that Six Fair Pretty Young Ladies, with two sweet and engaging young children, lately Imported from Europe, having roses of health blooming on their cheeks, and joy sparkling in their eyes, possessing amiable manners, and highly accomplished, whom the most indifferent cannot behold without expressions of rapture, are to be RAFFLED FOR next door to the British gallery. Scheme: twelve tickets, at twelve rupees each; the highest of the three throws, doubtless, takes the most fascinating, &c.”
The four engravings on this page, with the lines beneath them, are from other Lottery bills.
The best composing draught’s a Fee;
For sinking Chest, low pulse, or cold,
There’s no Specific equals Gold.
That now is the time to get pailsful of gold;
And if there is any real truth in a dream,
I myself shall come in for a share of the cream.
We hail, ere the Sun, the first breath of the morn,
And ’tis said “early birds get the best of the corn,”
Of the Four Twenty Thousands perhaps fortune may
Have in store one for me, as they’re drawn in One Day!
When compar’d with the fruits of the lottery wheel;
My basket of fruit I’d exchange with great glee,
If one golden pippin they’d only give me.
“Bish, contractor for another Lottery,” during the proceedings in parliament respecting the queen, availed himself of a celebrated answer by one of the witnesses at the bar of the house of lords, and issued the following:—
NON MI RICORDO!
OR,
A few Questions on a new Subject.
QUESTION.
A question I would ask or two;
Then pray may I the favour beg,
That you will answer, if I do?
ANSWER.
Whether my mem’ry serves or no;
But let me hear them first, I pray;
What I remember you shall know.
QUESTION.
And many good ones there have been,
Do you suppose the oldest man,
So good a Scheme at this has seen?
ANSWER.
Comparisons are idle tales,
For such a Lottery Scheme as this,
I must confess my memory fails.
QUESTION.
Distinguish this from all the rest?
And why do all the people say,
“Unquestionably this is best?”
ANSWER.
For me its merits now to say;
To tell them all ’twould take, ’tis plain,
From now until the Drawing Day.
QUESTION.
But folks will questions ask, and pray
If your opinion is requir’d,
Just tell me, sir, what you would say?
ANSWER.
One word will answer all your wish
’Tis BISH’s plan, ’tis BISH’s theme,
It must be good, ’tis plann’d by BISH.
“Bish,” in the annexed, puffs at Queen Anne’s prize of “5000 pounds,” as “so small.” This may be imagined to have been asserted under poetical licence; for, in fact, 5000l. in those days was almost equal to the largest prize in modern Lotteries.
THE
Bonne Bouche of Lotteries.
Tune.—“Moderation and alteration.”
With very few Prizes Advent’rers were contented;
The largest of which, (so small were Fortune’s bounds,)
“Paid in faire Plate,” was but 5000 Pounds.
Moderation! Moderation!
O, what a wonderful Moderation!
And 10,000 then was the Great Prize of State:
Twenty follow’d soon after, then Thirty—bold push!
And at last 40,000 was made the Bonne Bouche!
Alteration! Alteration! &c.
All former outdoings resolv’d to outdo;
And have struck out a Plan to increase Public Gain,
By which, One Hundred Thousand Pounds you may obtain.
Temptation! Temptation! &c.
1000 Whole Tickets the Holders repay;
And a 1000 Whole Tickets a Chance may reveal,
Of all the Great Prizes contain’d in the Wheel.
Admiration! Admiration! &c.
O, what a subject for Admiration!
For the rest of your life, how your fortune would change!
A Coach, a Town-House, and a Country-House, too!
Leading Man in the County!—O, wou’dn’t that do?
Fascination! Fascination! &c.
Then a Member of Parliament’s Seat you’d obtain!
Next Knighthood—then Baronet—and in a short space,
A Peerage—“My Lord!” and at last, “Please your Grace!”
Exaltation! Exaltation! &c.
But a Pleasure far greater remains to declare;
Consider, what Power Wealth and Honour procure,
To relieve the Oppress’d, and to succour the Poor.
Exultation! Exultation! &c.
For Riches are Curses, from
And all this may be gain’d, if your Fortune you try,
And of BISH, Fortune’s Favorite, a Ticket you buy.
Expectation! Expectation! &c.
“Bish,” whose bills may be taken as a specimen of such kind of Lottery advertisements by whomever issued, will be observed to have constantly addressed them to the lowest minds and the meanest capacities. One more may further exemplify the remark:—
THE AGE OF WONDERS.
Tune.—“Bang up.”
And Wonders rise up ev’ry day, for public gaze to feed on;
To sketch a few ’tis my intent, while now I’m in the mind, sir,
And crown them all with one you’ll own, will leave them far behind, sir.
Then push along; for something new, the public taste will dash on:
For Wonders now are all the rage, and novelty’s the fashion.
The juggling Indians show such feats, a lady’s taste ’twould shock it,
They swallow swords, and swallow too the money from our pocket,
A gentle fair, by fear unmov’d, with courage she so fraught is,
On red-hot iron skips a dance, and bathes in aqua-fortis.
Then push along; for something new, the public taste will dash on,
For Wonders now are all the rage, and novelty’s the fashion.
The greatest Wonder yet to tell, which all the world surprizes,
Is BISH’s famous Lottery, and BISH’s wondrous prizes,
Three fifty thousands grace the scheme, which yet remain undrawn, sir,
A wonder which was never known since any man was born, sir.
Then push along, to BISH’s go! of fortune he’s the man, sir,
A vote of thanks, nem. con. we’ll pass for such a noble plan, sir.
“Bish” when, what he called, “The Last Lottery of All!” had arrived, very cavalierly turned round on the government; and, on the eve of becoming a candidate for a seat in the house of commons, paid his compliments to his future colleagues in the following address:—
To the Public.
At the present moment, when so many articles, necessary to the comforts of the poorer classes, are more or less liable to taxation, it may surely be a question, whether the abolition of Lotteries, by which the state was a gainer of nearly half a million per annum, be, or be not, a wise measure!
’Tis true, that, as they were formerly conducted, the system was fraught with some evil. Insurances were allowed upon the fate of numbers through protracted drawings, and as the insurances could be effected for very small sums, those who could ill afford loss, imbibed a spirit for gambling, which the legislature very wisely most effectually prevented, by adopting, in the year 1809, the present improved mode of deciding the whole Lottery in one day.
As it is at present conducted, the Lottery is a voluntary tax, contributed to only by those who can afford it, and collected without trouble or expense; one, by which many branches of the revenue are considerably aided, and by means of which hundreds of persons find employment. The wisdom of those who at this time resign the income produced by it, and add to the number of the unemployed, may, as I have observed in a former address, surely be questioned.
Mr. Pitt, whose ability, in matters of financial arrangement, few will question, and whose morality was proverbial, would not, I am bold to say, have yielded to an outcry against a tax, the continuing of which would have enabled him to let the labourer drink his humble beverage at a reduced price, or the industrious artisan to pursue his occupation by a cheaper
In saying so much, it may be thought that I am somewhat presumptuous, or that I take a partial view of the case. It is, however, my honest opinion, abstracted from personal considerations, that the measure of abolishing Lotteries is an unwise one, and as such I give it to that public, of whom I have been for many years the highly favoured servant, and for whose patronage, though Lotteries cease, my gratitude will ever continue.
As one of the last contractors, I have assisted in arranging a scheme, &c.! &c.!! &c.!!!
After this, perhaps, the reader may exclaim “I am satisfied!” and therefore, as we have the assurance of Mr. Bish that there will “never be another Lottery” to be lamented, the time has arrived for subjoining the following
Epitaph.
In Memory of
THE STATE LOTTERY,
the last of a long line
whose origin in England commenced
in the year 1569,
which, after a series of tedious complaints,
Expired
on the
18th day of October, 1826.
During a period of 257 years, the family
flourished under the powerful protection
of the
British Parliament;
the minister of the day continuing to
give them his support for the improvement
of the revenue.
As they increased, it was found that their
continuance corrupted the morals,
and encouraged a spirit
of Speculation and Gambling among the
lower classes of the people;
thousands of whom fell victims to their
insinuating and tempting allurements.
Many philanthropic individuals
in the Senate,
at various times for a series of years,
pointed out their baneful influence
without effect,
His Majesty’s Ministers
still affording them their countenance
and protection.
The British Parliament
being at length convinced of their
mischievous tendency,
His Majesty GEORGE IV.,
on the 9th July, 1823,
pronounced sentence of condemnation
on the whole race;
from which time they were almost
neglected by the British Public.
Very great efforts were made by the
Partisans and friends of the family to
excite
the public feeling in favour of the last
of the race, in vain:
It continued to linger out the few
remaining
moments of its existence without attention
or sympathy, and finally terminated
its career unregretted by any
virtuous mind.
W. P.
Interesting Addenda.
A few remarkable facts, which were omitted in the proper order of narration, are now inserted.
Ancient Lottery.
About 1612 king James I., “in special favour for the plantation of English colonies in Virginia, granted a Lottery to be held at the west end of St. Paul’s; whereof one Thomas Sharplys, a taylor of London, had the chief prize, which was four thousand crowns in fair plate.”
A Double Mistake.
Old Baron d’Aguilar, the Islington miser, was requested by a relation to purchase a particular ticket, No. 14,068, in the Lottery to be drawn in the year 1802, (but which was sold some few days before). The baron died on the 16th of March following, and the number was the
Christopher Bartholomew.
This person, who inherited a good fortune from his parents, was prosperous in his business, and had every prospect of success and eminence in life, fell a victim to an unconquerable itch for gambling in the Lottery. At one time, the White-conduit-house, with its tea-gardens and other premises, as also the Angel-inn, now the best tavern in Islington, were his freeholds: and he rented land to the amount of 2000l. a year, in the neighbourhood of that place, and Holloway. He was remarkable for having the greatest quantity of haystacks of any grower in the neighbourhood of London. He kept his carriage and servants in livery, and was believed to have been worth 50,000l. He was not only the proprietor, but the landlord of White-conduit-house, to which, by his taste in laying out its grounds, and the manner of conducting his business, he attracted great custom. On one occasion, having been unusually successful in the Lottery, he gave a public breakfast at his tea-gardens, “to commemorate the smiles of Fortune,” as he so expressed himself upon the tickets of admission at this fÊte champÊtre.
At times he was very fortunate in the Lottery, and this tended to increase the mania which hurried him to his ruin. He was known to have spent upwards of 2000 guineas in a day for insurance, to raise which, stack after stack of his immense crops of hay were cut down and hurried to market, as the readiest way to obtain the supplies for these extraordinary outgoings; and at last he was obliged to part with his freehold, from accumulated difficulties and embarrassments, and he passed the remaining thirteen years of his life in great poverty, subsisting by the charity of those who knew him in “better days,” and by the paltry emolument he derived from serving as a juryman in the sheriff’s court for the county. His propensity to the Lottery, even under these degrading difficulties, never forsook him. Meeting one day, in the year 1807, with an old acquaintance, he told him he had a strong presentiment, that if he could purchase a particular number in the ensuing Lottery it would prove successful. His friend, after remonstrating with him on the impropriety of persevering in a practice that had been already attended with such evil consequences, was at last persuaded to advance the money to purchase a sixteenth, and go halves with him in the adventure. It was drawn a prize of 20,000l., and from the proceeds from this extraordinary turn of fortune, he was prevailed upon to purchase an annuity of 60l. per annum. Totally addicted, however, to the pernicious habit of insurance, he disposed of his annuity, and lost every shilling of the money; yet such was the meanness of his mind and circumstances, that he frequently applied to persons who had been served by him in his prosperity, for an old coat, or some other article of cast apparel; and not many days before he died, he begged a few shillings to purchase necessaries.
Bartholomew in intellect and manners was superior to the generality of men, and at one time possessed the esteem of all who knew him. His fate may be a warning to all ranks, particularly to those who are in trade, not to engage in hazardous pursuits. He died in a two pair of stairs room, in Angel-court, Windmill-street, in the Haymarket, in March, 1809, aged 68.
A correspondent refers to Rees’s CyclopÆdia as containing a good account of Lotteries, with table of chances relative to their schemes; and he adds, that Dr. Kelly, the well-known calculator, assured him he had ascertained that the chances of
When the tickets were publicly drawn in Guildhall, and the drawing was protracted for several weeks, it was a curious sight for an indifferent spectator to go and behold the visages of the anxious crowd; to mark the hopes and the fears that seemed to agitate them, as their numbers or numbers near to theirs were announced. It is a fact, that poor medical practitioners used constantly to attend in the hall, to be ready to let blood, in cases where the sudden proclaiming of the fate of tickets in the hearing of the holders of them, was found to have an overpowering effect upon their spirits. The late Mr. Dalmahoy, of Ludgate-hill, was accustomed to affirm, that he owed his first establishment in a business which afterwards proved so prosperous, to the gratitude of a person, to whose assistance, when a young man, he had stept in, upon one of those critical emergencies.
Origin of Lotteries.
The historian of “Inventions” says, that if, as some had done, he were to “reckon among the first traces of Lotteries every division of property made by lot, it might be said that Joshua partitioned the promised land into Lottery prizes before it was conquered.” In his opinion, the peculiarity of Lotteries consists in their numbers being distributed gratuitously, or, as in public Lotteries, for a certain price; it being left to chance to determine what numbers were to obtain the prizes, the value of which had been previously settled. He speaks of the “conditions and changes invented by ingenuity to entice people to purchase shares, and to conceal and increase the gain of the undertakers;” and, of the “delusion they occasion to credulous and ignorant people, by exciting hopes that have little probability in their favour.” He deems that the hint of modern Lottery was derived from the Romans. The rich persons at Rome, and particularly the emperors, endeavoured to attach the people by distributing among them presents consisting of eatables and other expensive articles, which were named congiaria. Tokens, or tickets, called tesserÆ (in Greek s????a,) were generally given out, and the possessors, on presenting them at the store or magazine of the donor, received those things which they announced. In many cases, these tickets were distributed to every person who applied for them, and then these donations resembled our distribution of bread, but not our Lotteries, in which chance must determine the number of those who were to participate in the number of things distributed. In the course of time, the Roman populace was called together, and the articles distributed thrown to them from a stage. Such things were called missilia, and belonged to those who had the good fortune to catch them; but as oil, wine, corn, and such like articles, could not be distributed in this manner, and as other articles were injured by the too great eagerness of the people, tokens or tickets were thrown in their stead. These were square pieces of wood or metal, and sometimes balls of wood, inscribed with the names of the articles. Those who had obtained these tesserÆ were allowed to transfer or sell them.
Under “Lottery,” an antiquary refers to the pittacia of Petronius. The Romans issued gratis, to their visitors in the Saturnalia, tickets which were all prizes, and marked with inscriptions called apophoreta. The Lotteries of Augustus were mere bagatelles for sport; Nero’s were very costly; those of Heliogabalus ridiculous; as, a ticket for six slaves, another for six flies, &c. these were handed round in vases.
Imitations, on a reduced scale, of the Roman congiaria have amused the continental princes and princesses of modern times. They distribute small presents to their courtiers, by causing trinkets or toys to be marked with numbers; the numbers being written on separate tickets, which are rolled up and put into a small basket or basin.
In Italy, during the middle ages, the merchants or shop-keepers, in order to sell their wares more speedily and advantageously, converted their shops into offices of luck, where each person, for a
From hence was derived the modern Lottery of the continent, when articles of merchandise were no longer employed as prizes, but certain sums of money instead, the amount of which was determined by the amount of money received, after the expenses and gain of the conductors were deducted. In these Lotteries, the tickets were publicly drawn by the charity boys, blindfolded. As they could not be conducted without defrauding the adventurers, it was at first believed, through old-fashioned conscientiousness, that it was unlawful to take advantage of the folly and credulity of the people, except for pious or charitable purposes. The gains were sometimes applied to the portioning of poor young women, the redemption of captives, or the formation of funds for the indigent, and other benificent objects. It was vainly imagined, that these public games of hazard would banish others still more dangerous; nor was it foreseen, that the exposure of tickets for sale, and their division into shares, would maintain and diffuse a spirit of gambling. This, however, was the result, and the profit from Lotteries became so great, that princes and ministers were induced to employ them as operations of finance: the people were forbidden to purchase tickets in foreign Lotteries, and, in order that the tickets of the state might be disposed of sooner, and with more certainty, many rulers were so shameless as to pay part of the salaries of their servants in tickets, and to compel guild companies and societies to expend in Lotteries what money they had saved. In 1764, this abuse was mentioned by the states of Wirtemburg among the public grievances, and in 1770 the duke promised that it should be abolished.
So early as 1521, the council of Osnaburg, in Germany, established a Lottery with wearing articles of merchandise for the prizes. In 1615, the magistrates of Hamburgh sanctioned a Lottery for building a house of correction in that city. An engraving is mentioned with the following title, “Representation of the Loto Publico, which was drawn in the large hall of the council-house at Nuremburg, anno 1715.” This is supposed to have been the first Lottery in that city. The first Lottery at Berlin was drawn in July, 1740; it contained 20,000 tickets at five dollars each; there were 4028 prizes; and the capital one was a house worth 24,000 dollars.
In 1549, a Lottery was drawn at Amsterdam for the building a church steeple; and another at Delft in 1595. In the hospital for old men, at Amsterdam, there is a beautiful painting by Daniel Vinckenbooms, which represents the drawing of a Lottery in the night time. He was born about 1578, and died in 1629.
In France, whither the Lottery was introduced from Italy, it was set on foot by merchants, and the only prizes were articles of merchandise: but, in 1539, Francis I. endeavoured to turn them to his own advantage. He permitted them under the inspection of certain members of the government, with a view, as was pretended, of banishing deceptive and pernicious games of chance; but on condition that he should receive for every ticket a teston de dix sols six deniers. It appears, however, from a royal order of recommendation, in February, 1541, that this Lottery was not then completed, and it is not known whether it ever was.
In 1572 and 1588, Louis de Gonzague duc de Nivernois established a Lottery at Paris, for the purpose of giving marriage portions to poor virtuous young women on his estates. The prize tickets were inscribed Dieu vous a Élue, or, Dieu vous console; the former insured to the young woman who drew it 500 francs on her wedding-day; the latter, inscribed on the blanks, suggested the hope of better fortune the year following. No Lottery was ever drawn with so much ceremony and parade. Pope Sextus V. promised those who promoted it the remission of their sins: and, before the drawing, which began every year on Palm Sunday, mass was said.
Ladies of quality were induced by this example to establish similar Lotteries for the building or repairing of churches or convents, and other religious or benevolent purposes. Three ladies set on foot a Lottery with tickets at 40 sous each, for redeeming persons who had fallen into slavery among the Turks. Some other ladies instituted a Lottery in behalf of their confessor, who had been made a bishop, that they might buy him a carriage and horses, with other requisites, to support his episcopal dignity.
French history records the institution of many Lotteries as the means employed to make valuable presents to ladies, and other persons of distinction. It is supposed the largest of the kind was one designed by cardinal Mazarine, to increase his splendour and popularity among the courtiers. The tickets were distributed as presents.
Louis XIV., on the days which were not fast days, went to dine at Marly with madame de Maintenon and other ladies. After dinner, the minister who wished to converse with him arrived, and when his business was finished, if they did not walk, he conversed, listened to music, played at cards, or helped to draw Lotteries, the tickets of which cost nothing, but were all prizes. They were composed of trinkets, jewels, and silks; but there were never any snuff-boxes, because he could not endure snuff, or suffer those who used it to approach him.
In the seventeenth century these games of chance grew into Lotteries, in the proper sense of the word. During a scarcity of money which prevailed in 1644, Lawrence Tonti came from Naples to Paris, and proposed that kind of life-rents, or annuities, which are named after him Tontines; though they were used in Italy long before his time. After tedious disputes, his proposal was rejected; for which, in 1556, he substituted, with the royal approbation, a large Lottery in order to raise funds for building a stone bridge and an aqueduct. This Lottery was never completed, and consequently never drawn; and a wooden bridge was constructed, instead of that which had been burnt. The first Lottery on the plan of Tonti was set on foot at Paris in 1660, when the conclusion of peace, and the marriage of Louis XIV., were celebrated. It was drawn publicly, under the inspection of the police. The price of each ticket was a Louis d’or, which at that time was only eleven livres; and the highest prize was a hundred thousand livres. This was gained by the king himself, but he would not receive it, and left it to the next Lottery, in which he had no ticket. In 1661, all private Lotteries were prohibited under severe penalties, and from that time there were no other Lotteries than the Loteries royales.
The ill-famed Italian or Genoese Lottery in Germany was, as its name shows, an invention of the Genoese, and arose from the mode in which the members of the senate were elected; for when that republic existed in a state of freedom, the names of the eligible candidates were thrown into a vessel called seminario, or, in modern times, into a wheel of fortune; and during the drawings of them it was customary for people to lay bets in regard to those who might be successful. That is to say, one chose the name of two or three nobili, for these only could be elected, and ventured upon them, according to pleasure, a piece of money; while, on the other hand, the opposite party, or the undertaker of the bank, who had the means of forming a pretty accurate conjecture in regard to names that would be drawn, doubled the stakes several times. Afterwards the state itself undertook the bank for these bets, which was attended with so much advantage; and the drawing of the names was performed with great ceremony. The venerabile was exposed, and high mass was celebrated, at which all the candidates were obliged to be present.
A member of the senate, named Benedetto Gentile, is said to have first introduced this Lottery, in the year 1620; and it is added, that the name of Gentile having never been drawn, the people took it into their heads that he, and his names, had been carried away by the devil. But at length, the wheel being taken to pieces in order to be mended, the name, which by some accident had never been drawn was found concealed in it.
This mode of Lottery is presumed to have been peculiar to the Genoese, who, for their own benefit established in many continental towns commissioners, to dispose of tickets, and to pay the prizes to those who had been fortunate.
These pernicious Lotteries continued till the end of the eighteenth century, when they were almost every where abolished and forbidden. To the honour of the Hanoverian government, no Lotto was ever introduced into it, though many foreigners offered large sums for permission to cheat the people in this manner. Those who wish to see the prohibitions issued against the Lotto, after making a great part of the people lazy, indigent, and thievish, may find them in Schlozer’s Staats-Anzeigen,
Elia says, in the “New Monthly Magazine,”—“The true mental epicure always purchased his ticket early, and postponed inquiry into its fate to the last possible moment, during the whole of which intervening period he had an imaginary twenty thousand locked up in his desk—and was not this well worth all the money? Who would scruple to give twenty pounds interest for even the ideal enjoyment of as many thousands during two or three months? ‘Crede quod habes, et habes,’ and the usufruct of such a capital is surely not dear at such a price. Some years ago, a gentleman in passing along Cheapside saw the figures 1069, of which number he was the sole proprietor, flaming on the window of a Lottery office as a capital prize. Somewhat flurried by this discovery, not less welcome than unexpected, he resolved to walk round St. Paul’s, that he might consider in what way to communicate the happy tidings to his wife and family; out upon repassing the shop, he observed that the number was altered to 10,069; and, upon inquiry, had the mortification to learn that his ticket was blank, and had only been stuck up in the window by a mistake of the clerk. This effectually calmed his agitation; but he always speaks of himself as having once possessed twenty thousand pounds, and maintains that his ten minutes’ walk round St. Paul’s was worth ten times the purchase-money of the ticket. A prize thus obtained has moreover this special advantage;—it is beyond the reach of fate, it cannot be squandered, bankruptcy cannot lay siege to it, friends cannot pull it down, nor enemies blow it up; it bears a charmed life, and none of woman-born can break its integrity, even by the dissipation of a single fraction. Show me the property in these perilous times that is equally compact and impregnable. We can no longer become enriched for a quarter of an hour; we can no longer succeed in such splendid failures; all our chances of making such a miss have vanished with the Last of the Lotteries.
“Life will now become a flat, prosaic routine of matter-of-fact; and sleep itself, erst so prolific of numerical configurations and mysterious stimulants to Lottery adventure, will be disfurnished of its figures and figments. People will cease to harp upon the one lucky number suggested in a dream, and which forms the exception, while they are scrupulously silent upon the ten thousand falsified dreams which constitute the rule. Morpheus will stifle Cocker with a handful of poppies, and our pillows will be no longer haunted by the book of numbers.
“And who, too, shall maintain the art and mystery of puffing in all its pristine glory when the Lottery professors shall have abandoned its cultivation? They were the first, as they will assuredly be the last, who fully developed the resources of that ingenious art; who cajoled and decoyed the most suspicious and wary reader into a perusal of their advertisements, by devices of endless variety and cunning; who baited their lurking schemes with midnight murders, ghost stories, crim-cons, bon-mots, balloons, dreadful catastrophes, and every diversity of joy and sorrow to catch newspaper-gudgeons. Ought not such talents to be encouraged? Verily, the abolitionists have much to answer for!”
Here, at last, ends the notices respecting the Lottery, of which much has been said, because of all depraving institutions it had the largest share in debasing society while it existed: and because, after all, perhaps, the monster is “only scotched, not killed.”
November 16.
Extraordinary Lunar Halo.
On the night of this day in 1823, about half past nine o’clock, Dr. T. Forster observed a very remarkable and brilliant phenomenon about the moon. It was a coloured discoid halo, consisting of six several concentric circles; the nearest to the moon, or the first disk around her, being dull white, then followed circles of orange, violet, crimson, green, and vermillion; the latter, or outermost, subtending in its diameter an angle of above ten degrees. This phenomenon was evidently produced by a refraction in the white mist of a stratus, which prevailed through the night, but it varied in its colours, as well as in its brilliancy, at different times.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 43·00.
Whims and Oddities.
The company of odd-looking personages playing at nine-pins in the hollow of the wild mountain, were not greater objects of wonder to Rip Van Winkle, than forty original designs by Mr. Hood will be to the reader who looks for the first time at this gentleman’s “Whims and Oddities.”
All the world knows, or ought to know, that among persons called literary there are a few peculiarly littery; who master an article through confusion of head and materials, and, having achieved the setting of their thoughts and places “to rights,” celebrate the important victory by the triumph of a short repose. At such a minute, after my last toilsome adventure in the “Lottery,” sitting in my little room before the fire, and looking into it with the comfortable knowledge that the large table behind me was “free from all incumbrances,” I yearned for a recreative dip into something new, when Mr. Hood’s volume, in a parcel bearing the superscription of a kind hand, was put into mine. It came in the very nick; and, as I amused myself, I resolved to be thenceforth, and therefrom, as agreeable as possible to my readers.
On the title-page of Mr. Hood’s book is this motto, “O Cicero! Cicero! if to pun be a crime, ’tis a crime I have learned of thee: O Bias! Bias! if to pun be a crime, by thy example I was biassed!—Scriblerus.”
The first engraving that opened on me was of
A Dream.
In this figure, “a medley of human faces, wherein certain features belong in common to different visages,—the eyebrow of one, for instance, forming the mouth of another,”—Mr. Hood has successfully “tried to typify a common characteristic of dreams; namely, the entanglement of divers ideas, to the waking mind distinct or incongruous, but, by the confusion of
As an illustration of this kind of dream, the author relates a dismal one, “which originated in the failure of his first and last attempt as a dramatic writer;” and another, wherein the preliminaries were pleasant, and the conclusion was whimsical. “It occurred,” says Mr. Hood, “when I was on the eve of marriage; a season, when, if lovers sleep sparingly, they dream profusely. A very brief slumber sufficed to carry me in the night-coach to Bognor. It had been concerted, between Honoria and myself, that we should pass the honeymoon at some such place upon the coast. The purpose of my solitary journey was to procure an appropriate dwelling, and which, we had agreed, should be a little pleasant house, with an indispensable look out upon the sea. I chose one, accordingly; a pretty villa, with bow-windows, and a prospect delightfully marine. The ocean murmur sounded incessantly from the beach. A decent, elderly body, in decayed sables, undertook, on her part, to promote the comforts of the occupants by every suitable attention, and, as she assured me, at a very reasonable rate. So far, the nocturnal faculty had served me truly. A day-dream could not have proceeded more orderly; but, alas, just here, when the dwelling was selected, the sea view secured, the rent agreed upon, when every thing was plausible, consistent, and rational, the incoherent fancy crept in and confounded all,—by marrying me to the old woman of the house!”
Because it never happened that Mr. Hood in his dreams fancied himself deprived of any sense, he was greatly puzzled by this question,—
“I mean” says Mr. H. “a person with the opaque crystal from his birth. He is defective in that very faculty which, of all others, is most active in those night-passages, thence emphatically called Visions. He has had no acquaintance with external images; and has, therefore, none of those transparent pictures that, like the slides of a magic-lantern, pass before the mind’s eye, and are projected by the inward spiritual light upon the utter blank. His imagination must be like an imperfect kaleidoscope, totally unfurnished with those parti-coloured fragments, whereof the complete instrument makes such interminable combinations. It is difficult to conceive such a man’s dream.
“Is it, a still benighted wandering,—a pitch-dark night progress, made known to him by the consciousness of the remaining senses? Is he still pulled through the universal blank, by an invisible power, as it were, at the nether end of the string?—regaled, sometimes, with celestial voluntaries, and unknown mysterious fragrances, answering to our more romantic flights; at other times, with homely voices, and more familiar odours; here, of rank smelling cheeses, there, of pungent pickles or aromatic drugs, hinting his progress through a metropolitan street. Does he over again enjoy the grateful roundness of those substantial droppings from the invisible passenger,—palpable deposits of an abstract benevolence,—or, in his nightmares, suffer anew those painful concussions and corporeal buffetings, from that (to him) obscure evil principle, the Parish Beadle?
“This question I am happily enabled to resolve, through the information of the oldest of those blind Tobits that stand in fresco against Bunhill-wall; the same who made that notable comparison, of scarlet, to the sound of a trumpet. As I understood him, harmony, with the gravel-blind, is prismatic as well as chromatic. To use his own illustration, a wall-eyed man has a palette in his ear as well as in his mouth. Some stone-blinds, indeed, dull dogs without any ear for colour, profess to distinguish the different hues and shades by the touch; but that, he said, was a slovenly, uncertain method, and in the chief article, of paintings, not allowed to be exercised.
“On my expressing some natural surprise at the aptitude of his celebrated comparison,—a miraculous close likening, to my mind, of the known to the unknown,—he told me, the instance was nothing,
To chop and change intelligences,
As Rosicrucian Virtuosis
Can see with ears—and hear with noses.”
Never having tried opium, and therefore without experience of “such magnificent visions” as are described by its eloquent historian, “I have never,” says Mr. Hood, “been buried for ages under pyramids; and yet, methinks, have suffered agonies as intense as his could be, from the common-place inflictions. For example, a night spent in the counting of interminable numbers,—an inquisitorial penance,—everlasting tedium,—the mind’s treadmill.”
That “the innocent—sleep,” is an exceptionable position. What happy man, with a happy wife by his side, and the first, sweet, restless plague and pledge of their happiness by hers, has not been awakened to a sense of his felicity, by a weak, yet shrill and spirit-stirring “la-a, la-a, la-a, la-a, la-a-a, la-a-a—a,” of some secret sorrow, “for ever telling, yet untold.”
A few paternal achings are.
Gentle reader of the Benedictine order! I presume not to anticipate the pleasure thou wilt derive from contemplating thyself engaged in a domestic exercise, suited to the occasion,—pacing thy bed-room at “the heavy middle of the night,” holding the little “innocent”
its dear eyes provokingly open to the light of the chamber-lantern; thine own closed by drowsiness, yet kept unsealed by affection; thy lips arranged for the piano of carminative sounds—“quivering to the young-eyed cherubim”—
Thy sire is a knight—
—thy “darling” ceasing its “sweet voice,” to offer more decisively by its looks, “I would out-night you.” Brother Benedict! there is an engraving of thee, and thine, in the book I speak of, mottoed, “Son of the sleepless!”
Let me extract another cut, seemingly a portrait of the alarming “hope of the family,” after thou hast for some few years tried, perchance, “the Locke system; which, after all,” according to Mr. Hood, “is but a canal system for raising the babe-mind to unnatural levels”—
“My son, sir.”
At about the age of “My son, sir,” boys seek to satisfy their curiosity, and gratify their taste. It is the spelling-time of young experience, and they are extremely diligent. Their senses are fresh and undepraved, and covetous of the simplest pleasures.
Every town in England, and every village, with inhabitants and wealth sufficient to consume a hogshead of “brown moist” within a reasonable time, exhibits an empty sugar cask in the open street; it is every little grocer’s pride, and every poor boy’s delight:—
“O! there’s nothing half so sweet in life!”
“Gentle reader, read the motto! read the motto!” Look at the engraving; “show it to your children, and to your children’s children,” and ask them what they think. If you desire an immediate living example to illustrate professor Malthus’s principle, that “population always comes up to the mean of subsistence,” set out a sugar cask, and there will be a swarm of boys about it, from no one knows whither, in ten minutes. The first takes possession of the inside, and is “monarch of all he surveys.” Like the throne, it is an envied, and an unquiet possession. From the emulous, on all sides, he receives vain addresses and remonstrances, and against their threatening hands is obliged to keep a sharp look out; but his greatest enemy, and for whom he keeps a sharp look over, is the grocer’s man. A glimpse of that arch-foe “frightens him from his impropriety” in a twinkling; unless, indeed, from the nearness of the adversary he fail to escape, when, for certain, his companions leave him “alone in his glory,” and then he knows for a truth, that “after sweet comes sour.” The boy there, straddling like the “Great Harry,” has had his wicked will of the barrel to satiety, and therefore vacates his place in favour of him of the hat, on whose nether end “time hath written strange defeatures.” It is not so certain, that the fine, fat, little fellow, with his hands on the edge of the tub, and the ends of his toes on the ground, will ascend the side, as that he who stoops in front is enjoying the choicest pickings of the prize. The others are mere common feeders, or gluttons, who go for quantity; he is the epicure of the party—
But seeks that little good;
and, of foretaste, he takes his place at the bung-hole, where the sugar crystallizes, and there revels in particles of the finest candies. “I pity the poor child,” says Mr. Hood, “that is learned in alpha beta, but ignorant of top and taw”—and I pity every poor child who only knows that a sugar tub is sweet, and is ignorant of the sweetest of its sweets. There are as many different pickings in it as there are cuts in a shoulder of mutton, or Mr. Hood’s book. My authority for this information is an acute, pale-faced, sickly, printer’s boy, an adapt in lickerish things, who declared the fact the morning after he had been to see Mr. Mathews, by affirming, with enthusiasm, “I’ve tried it, I’ve analyzed it, and I know it.”
who spend their money on bulls-eyes and hard-bake, which are modern inventions, of the delicacies within a grocer’s plain,
Mr. Hood introduces another “sweet pleasure,” with another equally apt quotation:—
“Tell me, my heart, can this be Love?”
This figure of “The Popular Cupid,” Mr. Hood copied, “by permission, from a lady’s Valentine;” and he says, “in the romantic mythology it is the image of the divinity of Love.” He inquires, “Is this he, that, in the mind’s eye of the poetess, drifts adown the Ganges—
Gather’d in a summer hour,
Floats he o’er the mountain wave,
Which would be a tall ship’s grave?
—Does Belinda believe that such a substantial Sagittarius lies ambushed in her perilous blue eye?—I can believe in his dwelling alone in the heart—seeing that he must occupy it to repletion: in his constancy—because he looks sedentary, and not apt to roam: that he is given to melt—from his great pinguitude: that he burneth with a flame—for so all fat burneth: and hath languishings—like other bodies of his tonnage: that he sighs—from his size. I dispute not his kneeling at ladies’ feet—since it is the posture of elephants—nor his promise, that the homage shall remain eternal. I doubt not of his dying—being of a corpulent habit, and a short neck: of his blindness—with that inflated pig’s cheek. But, for his lodging in Belinda’s blue eye, my whole faith is heretic—for she hath never a sty in it.”
Mr. Hood, doubtless, desires that the world should know his “Whims and Oddities” through his own work; its notice here, therefore, while it affords a winter evening’s half hour entertainment, is not to mar his hopes. But it is impossible to close its merry-making leaves without shadowing forth a little more of the volume.
It ought to be observed, that the prints just presented are from engravings in Mr. Hood’s book, of which there are forty drawn by his own pencil; and, that he attaches a motto to each, so antithetical, as to constitute the volume a pocket portfolio of designs to excite risibility. For example:—
He tells a story of his “Aunt Shakerly,” a lady of enormous bulk, who placed Mr. Hood’s baby cousin in the nursing-chair while she took in the news, and then, in her eagerness to read the accidents and offences, unthinkingly sat, with the gravity of a coroner’s inquest, in the aforesaid chair, and thereby unconsciously suppressed “an article of intelligence”—an occurrence which there is little reason to doubt appeared among the “horribles,” in the favourite department of her paper, the next morning. The engraving that pictures this is mottoed, “The Spoiled Child!”
Mr. Hood institutes “A Complaint against Greatness,” through “an unhappy candidate for the show at Sadler’s repository,” described in the following item of the catalogue—“The reverend Mr. Farmer, a four years’ old Durham ox, fed by himself, upon oil-cake and mangel-wurzel.” The complainant, however, says, “I resemble that worthy agricultural vicar only in my fat living.”
This being the season when these condemned animals come up from the country to the metropolis, it seems a fit time to hear the complainant’s description of his journey. “Wearisome and painful was my pilgrim-like progress to this place, by short and tremulous steppings—like the digit’s march upon a dial. My owner, jealous of my fat, procured a crippled drover, with a withered limb, for my conductor; but even he hurried me beyond my breath. The drawling hearse left me labouring behind; the ponderous fly-waggon passed me like a bird upon the road, so tediously slow is my pace. It just sufficeth, oh, ye thrice happy oysters! that have no locomotive faculty at all, to distinguish that I am not at rest. Wherever the grass grew by the way-side, how it tempted my natural longings—the cool brook flowed at my very foot, but this short, thick neck forbade me to eat or drink; nothing but my redundant dewlap is likely ever to graze on the ground!—If stalls and troughs were not extant, I must perish. Nature has given to the elephant a long, flexible tube, or trunk, so that he can feed his mouth, as it were, by his nose: but is man able to furnish me with such an implement? Or would he not still withhold it, lest I should prefer the green herb, my natural, delicious diet, and reject his rank, unsavoury condiments?—What beast, with free will, but would repair to the sweet meadow for its pasture”—
Verily, it is humane thus to lecture man from the mouth of an animal, whose species is annually deformed for butcherly pride, and the loathing of the table—“to see the prize-steak loaded with that rank, yellow abomination, might wean a man from carnivorous habits for ever.” The supplicant for our compassion adds, in behalf of himself and his dumb-fellow creatures, “It may seem presumption in a brute to question the human wisdom; but truly, I can perceive no beneficial ends worthy to be set off against our sufferings. There must be, methinks, a nearer (and a better) way of augmenting the perquisites of the kitchen-wench and the fire-man.” There is an admirable cut of the over-fed petitioner, breathing “O, that this too, too solid flesh would melt!” The figure of the crippled drover is excellent.
Mr. Hood devises a romantic adventure that befel a herd of these animals of the common class, and a little wooden, white-painted house on four wheels, to which a sedentary citizen and his wife had retired to spend their days, “impaled” by the wayside on Hounslow-heath, where—
They turn’d themselves, like other folks, to reading;
But setting out where others nigh have done,
And being ripen’d in the seventh stage,
The childhood of old age,
Began as other children have begun,—
Not with the pastorals of Mr. Pope,
Or Bard of Hope,
Or Paley, ethical, or learned Porson,—
But spelt, on sabbaths, in St. Mark, or John,
And then relax’d themselves with Whittington,
Or Valentine and Orson—
But chiefly fairy tales they loved to con,
And being easily melted, in their dotage,
Slobber’d,—and kept
Reading,—and wept
Over the White Cat, in their wooden cottage.
They read, of course, their childish faith grew stronger
In gnomes, and hags, and elves, and giant grim,—
If talking trees and birds reveal’d to him,
She saw the flight of fairyland’s fly-waggons,
And magic-fishes swim
In puddle ponds, and took old crows for dragons,—
Both were quite drunk from the enchanted flaggons;
When as it fell upon a summer’s day.
As the old man sat a feeding
On the old babe-reading,
Beside his open street-and-parlour door,
A hideous roar
Proclaim’d a drove of beasts was coming by the way.
Tall, tawny brutes, from famous Lincoln-levels,
Or Durham feed;
With some of those unquiet, black, dwarf devils,
From nether side of Tweed,
Or Firth of Forth;
Looking half wild with joy to leave the North,—
When,—whether from a fly’s malicious comment
Upon his tender flank, from which he shrank;
Or whether
Only in some enthusiastic moment,—
However, one brown monster, in a frisk,
Giving his tail a perpendicular whisk,
Kick’d out a passage thro’ the beastly rabble;
And after a pas seul,—or, if you will, a
Horn-pipe, before the basket-maker’s villa,
Leapt o’er the tiny pale,—
Back’d his beef-steaks against the wooden gable,
And thrust his brawny bell-rope of a tail
Right o’er the page,
Wherein the sage
Just then was spelling some romantic fable.
Could not peruse, who could?—two tales at once;
And being huff’d
At what he knew was none of Riquet’s tuft;
Bang’d-to the door,
But most unluckily enclosed a morsel
Of the intruding tail, and all the tassel:—
The monster gave a roar,
And bolting off with speed, increased by pain,
The little house became a coach once more,
And, like Macheath, “took to the road” again!
When this happened the old man’s wife was absent,
Thoughtful of Cinderella, in the tale,
And quaintly wondering how magic shifts
Could o’er a common pumpkin so prevail,
To turn it to a coach;
nor did she turn round, till house and spouse had turned a corner out of sight.
It made her senses stagger for a minute,
The riddle’s explication seem’d to harden;
But soon her superannuated nous
Explained the horrid mystery;—and raising
Her hand to heaven, with the cabbage in it,
On which she meant to sup,—
“Well! this is fairy work! I’ll bet a farden,
Little prince Silverwings has ketch’d me up,
And set me down in some one else’s garden!”
Here ends the “fairy tale” of Hounslow-heath.
“She is far from the land!” is a motto to an engraving of a land lady, frightened by voyaging in a Thames wherry, opposite St. Paul’s. Her after alarms at sea are concluded pleasantly:—
“We were off Flamborough-head. A heavy swell, the consequence of some recent storm to the eastward, was rolling right before the wind upon the land:—and, once under the shadow of the bluff promontory, we should lose all the advantage of a saving westerly breeze. Even the seamen looked anxious: but the passengers, (save one,) were in despair. They were, already, bones of contention, in their own misgivings, to the myriads of cormorants and waterfowl inhabiting that stupendous cliff. Miss Oliver alone was sanguine. She was all nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles; her cheeriness increased in proportion with our dreariness. Even the dismal pitching of the vessel could not disturb her unseasonable levity;—it was like a lightening before death—but, at length, the mystery was explained. She had springs of comfort that we knew not of. Not brandy, for that we shared in common; nor supplications, for those we had all applied to; but her ears, being jealously vigilant of whatever passed between the mariners, she had overheard from the captain,—and it had all the sound, to her, of a comfortable promise,—that ‘if the wind held, we should certainly go on shore.’”
The popular ballad of “Sally Brown and Ben the Carpenter,” which first appeared in the “London Magazine,” is inserted in this volume. “I have never been vainer of any verses,” says Mr. Hood, “than of my part in the following ballad. The lamented Emery, drest as Tom Tug, sang it at his last mortal benefit at Covent-garden; and, ever since, it has been a great favourite with the watermen of the Thames, who time their oars to it, as the wherrymen of Venice time theirs to the lines of Tasso. With the watermen, it went naturally to Vauxhall: and, over land, to Sadler’s-wells. The guards, not the mail coach but the life guards, picked it out from a fluttering hundred of others, all going to one air, against the dead wall at Knightsbridge. Cheap printers of Shoe-lane and Cow-cross, (all pirates!) disputed about the copyright, and published their own editions; and, in the mean time, the authors, to have made bread of their song, (it was poor old Homer’s hard ancient case!) must have sung it about the streets. Such is the lot of literature! the profits of ‘Sally Brown’ were divided by the ballad-mongers: it has cost, but has never brought me, a halfpenny.”
A “Recipe for Civilisation,” in Hudibrastic
From an odd poem, attributed to an odd personage, “The Last Man,” two verses are selected, as an example of feelings which the punning on the title-page seemed to have proscribed:—
Mr. Hood’s pen essays “Walton Redivivus: A New River Eclogue.”
“[Piscator is fishing—near the sir Hugh Middleton’s Head, without either basket or can. Viator cometh up to him, with an angling-rod and a bottle.]”
It is prefaced by a citation “From a Letter of C. Lamb,” in these words:—“My old New River has presented no extraordinary novelties lately. But there Hope sits, day after day, speculating on traditionary gudgeons. I think she hath taken the fisheries. I now know the reasons why our forefathers were denominated East and West Angles. Yet is there no lack of spawn, for I wash my hands in fishets that come through the pump, every morning, thick as motelings—little things that perish untimely, and never taste the brook.”
To face this “Eclogue” there is a motto, “My banks they are furnished,” beneath a whole length figure, so like “poor Jemmy Whittle!”—only not looking so good natured.
“Love me, love my dog,” is a fearful cut—Mr. Hood’s step-mother, and her precious “Bijou”—with a story, and a tail-piece—“O list unto my tale of woe,”—unnaturally natural.
One of the best pieces in the volume is “The Irish Schoolmaster,” who, from a clay cabin, “the College of Kilreen,” hangs out a board, “with painted letters red as blood,” announcing “Children taken in to bate.”
Divided into classes six;—alsoe,
He keeps a parlour boarder of a pig,
That in the college fareth to and fro,
And picketh up the urchins’ crumbs below
And eke the learned rudiments they scan,
And thus his A, B, C doth wisely know,—
Hereafter to be shown in caravan,
And raise the wonderment of many a learned man.
Whereof, above his head, some two or three
Sit darkly squatting, like Minerva’s owls,
But on the branches of no living tree,
And overlook the learned family;
While, sometimes, Partlet, from her gloomy perch,
Drops feather on the nose of Dominie,
Meanwhile, with serious eye, he makes research
In leaves of that sour tree of knowledge—now a birch.
The hour is come to lay aside their lore;
The cheerful pedagogue perceives it soon,
And cries, “Begone!” unto the imps,—and four
Snatch their two hats and struggle for the door,
Like ardent spirits vented from a cask,
All blythe and boisterous,—but leave two more,
With Reading made Uneasy for a task,
To weep, whilst all their mates in merry sunshine bask,
With tender moss so sleekly overgrown,
That doth not hurt, but kiss, the sole unshod,
So soothely kind is Erin to her own!
And one, at hare and hound, plays all alone,—
For Phelim’s gone to tend his step-dame’s cow;
Ah! Phelim’s step-dame is a canker’d crone!
Whilst other twain play at an Irish row,
And, with shillelah small, break one another’s brow!
Now changeth ferula for rural hoe;
But, first of all, with tender hand doth shift
His college gown, because of solar glow,
And hangs it on a bush to scare the crow:
Meanwhile, he plants in earth the dappled bean,
Or trains the young potatoes all a-row,
Or plucks the fragrant leek for pottage green,
With that crisp curly herb, call’d Kale in Aberdeen.
Linked each to each by labours, like a bee;
Or rules in learning’s hall, or trims her bow’rs;—
Would there were many more such wights as he,
To sway each capital academie
Of Cam and Isis; for, alack! at each
There dwells, I wot, some dronish Dominie,
That does no garden work, nor yet doth teach,
But wears a floury head, and talks in flow’ry speech!
For the entire of the subjects already extracted from, and for many others not adverted to, even by name, reference should be had to the work itself. There is one design, however, so excellent a specimen of Mr. Hood’s clear conception and decisive execution, that merely in further illustration of his talent it is here introduced.
“Very deaf, indeed.”
An engraving of Mr. Hood’s admirable “Parish Beadle,” from his “Progress of Cant,” was inserted in an account of that print on p. 130 of the present volume of the Every-Day Book. Great as was the merit of that print, in point of wit and humour, and curious as it will always be regarded for its multiform developement of character, and relationship to the manners of the age, yet it is largely exceeded, in these respects, by the volume of “Whims and Oddities.” Possessing the rare talent, of illustrating what he writes by his own drawings, Mr. Hood is to be esteemed in a twofold capacity. He has, withall, the remarkable merit of having acquired his knowledge of art by his own teaching; and, what augurs well, the praise which the “Progress of Cant” deserved and obtained, has wholesomely invigorated him to higher mastery. There is a firmness of execution in the designs to the “Whims and Oddities,” surprisingly superior to the general manner of his meritorious etching just mentioned. The book is altogether the most original that the press of late years has produced; and, luckily, it comes like a seasonable visiter, to raise shouts of laughter “round about the coal-fire” in cold weather.
November 17.
Hugh,
Bishop of Lincoln.
His name is in the church of England calendar and almanacs on this day, which was ordained his festival by the Romish church, wherein he is honoured as a saint.
St. Hugh was born in Burgundy in 1140, educated in a convent, took the habit of the Chartreuse near Grenoble before he was of age, was ordained priest, and, at the end of ten years, the procuratorship of the monastery was intrusted to him. Henry II. of England, confiding in his prudence and sanctity, induced him to come over and regulate the new monastery of Carthusians, founded by the king at Witham in Somersetshire, which was the first of that order established in England. He was consecrated bishop of Lincoln, 21st September, 1186, exerted his episcopal authority to restore ecclesiastical discipline, especially amongst his clergy, and maintained the claims of the church against the crown itself. In quality of ambassador from king John, he went to France and negotiated a peace; on his return he was seized with a fever, presumed to have been occasioned by his abstemiousness, and died at London, on blessed ashes strewed on the floor, as he directed, in the form of a cross, on the 17th of November, 1200. His body was embalmed, and conveyed with great pomp to Lincoln, where it was met by king John of England and king William of Scotland, with three archbishops, fourteen bishops, above a hundred abbots, and a great number of earls and barons. The two kings put their shoulders under the bier as it was carried into the church.
Alban Butler, from whom these particulars are derived, affirms that three paralytic persons, and some others, recovered their health at St. Hugh’s tomb. He further relates, that, during the saint’s life time, Henry II., being on his way from Normandy to England, in a furious storm, prayed for mercy, through the merits and intercession of St. Hugh, whereon a calm ensued, and the voyage was made in safety.
The Untombed Mariners.
An incident really witnessed in
the Bay of Biscay.
In the fathomless Biscay,
And the rising breeze swept sullen by,
And the day closed heavily.
Well trimm’d and sailing free,
And she flew along on the mountain wave,
An eagle of the sea.
We lower’d the noble sign,
For the bell had struck, it was past sunset,
And the moon began to shine.
From a sky of angry gloom,
Thick hurrying clouds o’er the waters hung,
Their hue was of the tomb.
Broke through of her silent ray,
And lit around with her soften’d beam
Some spot of that plumbless bay.
The proud ship break the spray,
While her shrouds and sheets by the wild winds stirr’d,
Made music mournfully.
Of shipwreck, rock, and shore,
Of ports where peril or chance had cast
Our sail the wide world o’er.
A shapeless log was seen,
A helmless ship it appear’d to be,
And it lay the waves between.
That helpless thing to see,
Swimming mastless and lone at high midnight
A corps on the black, black sea!
And heaving yet their breath,
Men whose cry, amid their despair, was heard
Not to meet ocean-death.
We lay too in that hollow deep—
Below, as our voices and trampling rung,
The sleepers sprang from sleep.
There were gallant hearts to go,
The dark clouds broke that the moon embower’d,
And her lights shone cheering through.
Pull up the mountain wave,
Then sink from view, like a name forgot,
Within an ancient grave.
As the waters wash the deck,
They shout, and they hear but the billows dull
Strike on that lonely wreck.
Lay blanch’d and marrowless there,
But clothed in their living garb, as when
That ’reft ship was their care.
The ropes still round them tied,
Though drifted long leagues in that stormy bay,
Since they hoped, despaired, and died.
Mid the watery solitude,
Days dawn’d upon them and faded away,
Cold moons their death-sleep view’d.
Nor whither their passage bound,
And our seamen leave the desolate hull
With death and darkness round.
And silent hoist their boat—
They think of the fate of the unknown men
Who for years may wildly float.
They well may sadly see,
For they feel that the gallant ship they steer,
Their sepulchre may be.
Laurels strew the hero’s hearse—
Are there none will the generous tear bestow
For those untomb’d mariners!
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 42·02.
November 18.
Chronology.
On the 18th of November, 1777, died William Bowyer, an eminent printer of London, where he was born on the 17th of December, 1699. He had been always subject to a bilious colic, and for the last ten years of his life was afflicted with the palsy; yet he retained a remarkable cheerfulness of disposition, and his faculties, though somewhat impaired, enabled him to maintain the conversation of his literary friends, pursue a course of incessant reading, which was his principal amusement, and correct the learned works, especially the Greek books, printed at his press. Within a few weeks before his death, he sunk under his maladies and the progress of decay. His numerous critical writings afford ample evidence of his ability as a scholar; and as a learned printer, he had no rival for more than half a century. Of his regard to religion and morals, both in principle and practice, his whole life bore unquestionable evidence. His probity was inflexible. The promptitude with which he relieved every species of distress, and his modesty in endeavouring to conceal his benefactions, marked the benevolence and delicacy of his disposition. In the decline of life, and in his testamentary arrangements, he seems to have been influenced by a regard to two great objects; one was to repay the benefactions which had been conferred on his father at a time when he peculiarly needed assistance, and the other was to be himself a benefactor to the meritorious in his own profession. By his will, after liberally providing for his only surviving son, and allotting various private bequests, he appropriated several sums to “the benefit of printing,” particularly with a view to the relief of aged printers, compositors or pressmen, and to the encouragement of the journeyman compositor, whom he particularly describes, and who is required to be capable of reading and construing Latin, and, at least, of reading Greek fluently with accents. These latter bequests he committed to the direction and disposal of the master, wardens, and assistants of the Company of Stationers.
Mr. Bowyer was buried, agreeably to his own direction, at Low-Layton, in Essex, and a monument erected, at the expense of his friend, Mr. Nichols, to his father’s memory and his own, with a Latin inscription written by himself. There is a bust of him in Stationers’-hall, with an English inscription annexed, in his own words: and beside it are a portrait of his father, and another of his patron, Mr. Nelson, all presented to the Company by Mr. Nichols, who was his apprentice, partner, and successor; and who has done ample justice to his eminent predecessor’s memory, by an invaluable series of “Anecdotes” of Mr. Bowyer, and many celebrated literary characters of the last and present century, whose persons or
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 40·82.
November 19.
Chronology.
On this day in 1703 died, in the Bastille at Paris, an unknown prisoner, celebrated throughout Europe under the appellation of the Man with the Iron Mask; he had been confined, for state reasons, from the year 1661. There have been various disquisitions and controversies respecting his identity, but a recent work seems to have rendered it probable, that he was an Italian diplomatist who counteracted certain projects of Louis XIV., and was therefore condemned, by that monarch’s despotism, to perpetual imprisonment, in an iron mask, for the concealment of his features.
Pleasant Illustrations—and Additional Notices.
A correspondent is pleased to communicate a series of reminiscences occasioned by accounts in the first volume. They form two interesting articles, viz.
Memoranda I.
On Vol. I. of the Every-Day Book.
J. R. P.
Sir,—It is obvious, that he who reads the Every-Day Book will think of things connected with the contents stated, and wish to append them as memoranda, for the perusal of those interested in the resuscitations of old customs and matters of fact. With this impression, I have collected my stray knowledge, and condensed it in the following compass. The pages quoted, refer to the first volume. Ex. g.
122. “Powerful Optical Illusion.” Approaching a lamp in the high road near town, an object crossed my path; it appeared like a large crab, and, as I drew nearer, ran up the side of a house in the road-way with great velocity. When I reached the lamp, to my satisfaction, I proved this appearance to have been caused by a full-sized spider, which had passed the light, and made upwards to its web. Had I not accounted for this natural circumstance, I should certainly have considered it as a phenomenon worthy of anxiety.
123. “The Spectre.” A young lady in Bedfordshire, on coming of age, was promised by her father a present of any thing she chose to accept at his hand. She said, A skeleton! Her choice was gratified—a skeleton was sent for from London, and placed in a case in a room accessible to her. The room has ever since gone by the name of the “Stranger’s Room.” “Have you seen? or will you see, the stranger?” is the question put to all visitors. The daughter of Herodias seems to have scarcely exceeded the eccentric taste of this young lady.
136. “St. Agnes’ Eve.” After fasting the whole of the day, upon going to bed an egg must be filled with salt, and eaten, which occasions a great thirst. The vessel the female dreams of drinking from, according to situation and circumstances, denotes who will be her husband.
This charm for the ague, on “St. Agnes’ Eve,” is customary to be said up the chimney, by the eldest female in the family—
First day shiver and burn:
Tremble and quake!
Second day shiver and learn:
Tremble and die!
Third day never return.”
179. “Bears” are seen on the Stock Exchange in human shape, natural ones are kept by friseurs to supply grease for the hair. The Black Bear in Piccadilly, Taylor’s Bear in Whitechapel, the White Bear, and the Bear and Ragged Staff, as a punster would say, are bear-able enough; but, I reprehend the “Dancing Bears” being led through the streets to perform antics for money. Two have appeared this month. Each with two monkeys, a camel, dromedary, and organ. Travellers have told of their sagacity; we believe them: but, that bears are made to stand upon hot iron, and undergo the severest discipline before they are fit for public exhibition, is a truth which harrows the feeling, and makes me wish the dancing bears unmuzzled, and let loose upon those who have the guidance of their education. The ursa major of the literary hemisphere, Dr. Johnson, might have been a match for them.
207. “St. Blase.” He seems to have
246. “Pancake Day.” It is a sine qua non at “Tedbury Mop,” before a maid servant is wholly qualified for the farmer’s kitchen, that she make apple fritters, and toss them without soot, or spoiling the batter.
348. “Sadler’s Wells.” It closed this season (1826) with a real benefit for Mrs. Fitzwilliam, October 2d. The new feature has been the horse-racing, in the open air, represented as at Newmarket. Boards were erected on every side, to conceal the race from the public in general, and ensure novelty to the play-going folks in particular. To give publicity to this amusement, the high-mettled racers, with riders, flags and bugles, in proper costume, paraded the environs daily, and distributed bills descriptive of cups, plate, bets, and other taking articles of jockeyship, which took place at evening. The thing did not take so much money as wished.
364. “St. Patrick’s Day” being my natal day, though not of Erin’s clime, I never fail dedicating a large plum pudding to his saintship; round my table the “olive branches” spread, and I make this record to encourage all persons to do the same, in remembrance of their parent’s solicitude, and the prospective harmony of the young.
402. “Good Friday.” The bun so fashionable, called the Sally Lunn, originated with a young woman of that name in Bath, about thirty years ago. She first cried them, in a basket with a white cloth over it, morning and evening. Dalmer, a respectable baker and musician, noticed her, bought her business, and made a song, and set it to music in behalf of “Sally Lunn.” This composition became the street favourite, barrows were made to distribute the nice cakes, Dalmer profited thereby, and retired; and, to this day, the Sally Lunn cake, not unlike the hotcross bun in flavour, claims preeminence in all the cities in England.
422. “Lifting” is a custom practised with hurdles among shepherds, in the South Downs, at their marriages. The bride and bridegroom are carried round a flock of sheep; a fleece is put for their seat, and may-horns, made of the rind of the sycamore tree, are played by boys and girls. There is another sort of “lifting,” however; I have seen a tale-bearer in the village tossed in a blanket by the maids, as it is represented in “Don Giovanni in London,” a scene in the King’s Bench.
I am, Sir,
Your’s sincerely,
Jehoiada.
Memoranda II.
On Vol. I. of the Every-Day Book.
So memorandums saved, will books produce.
J. R. P.
Videlicit.
507. “The Martin.” It is considered a presage of good, for this bird to build its nest in the corner of the bedroom-window; and particularly so, should the first inhabitants return in the season. I know it to be true, that a pair of martins built their nest in the curtains of a bed belonging to Mrs. Overton, of Loverrall, Yorkshire. The nest was suffered to remain unmolested, and access given to it from the air. Six successive seasons the old birds revisited their chosen spot, brought forth their young, and enjoyed their peace, till the death of their most kind benefactress; when a distribution of the furniture taking place, it dislodged the tenants of the wing, which to each of them was not all Mihi Beati Martini—“My eye, Betty Martin.”
570. “Milkmaids’ garland.” After I had sailed up the river Wye, and arrived at Chepstow-castle, my attention was arrested by one of the prettiest processions I remember to have enjoyed. It consisted of milkmaids dancing and serenading round an old man, whose few gray hairs were crowned by a wreath of wild flowers; he held a blossomy hawthorn in his right hand, and bore a staff, with cowslips and bluebells, in his left. A cow’s horn hung across his shoulders, which he blew on arriving at a house. The youths and lasses were more than thirty in number. Their arms, and heads
692. “Kiss in the ring.” The ‘kissing crust’ is that part of the loaf which is slightly burnt, and parted from the next loaf: hungry children who go home from the baker’s, know best what it is, by the sly bits they filch from that part denominated the ‘kissing crust.’
807. “Buy a Broom!” Since Bishop harmonised this popular cry, the Flemish girls cry ‘Buy a brush?’ but a greater novelty has arisen in some of them singing glees, quartets, and quintets in the streets. The tune is unconcordant, slow, and grave; these warblers walk in a line down the centre, with their hands crossed before their stomachs. Their simple attitude, together with their sunny cast, and artless glance, render them objects of pity; but the pence fall not so plentily to them as to the real John Bull, straightforward songs of the young weavers that go about with the model of a loom in work, fixed to the top of a rod five feet high.
839. “French pulpit.” The pulpit at Union Chapel, Islington, is made of beautiful grained “Honduras mahogany;” and that of St. Pancras, New-road, of the farfamed “Fairlop oak.”—Wesley and Whitefield were contented to emerge in their first career from the hogsheads of a grocer in Moorfields.
858. “Copenhagen-house.” This year, the Spanish and Italian refugees have resorted to this house in great numbers, and played many famous matches at ball. Nothing can be more retired than the garden formed into bowers for visiters—if the building mania should not recover, age will give the young plantations beauty, pleasure, and effect. Two new roads are made near Copenhagen-house; the one, leading from Kentish-town to Holloway, the other, from the latter to Pentonville. At “the Belvidere” racket is much played, and archery practised at “White Conduit-house.” It is gratifying that the labours of the Every-Day Book are not in vain—the “Conduit” spoken of in vol. ii. col. 1203 has undergone repair; it is hoped, it will be enclosed by the proprietors as one of the new relics of venerable antiquity.
1435. “Beadles.” The beadle of Camberwell is a lineal descendant of Earl Withrington, of the same name so celebrated in the battle of Chevy Chase.
Jehoiada.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 40·25.
November 20.
Edmund. King and Martyr.
Offensive Barbers.
On the 20th of November, 1746, fifty-one barbers were convicted before the commissioners of excise, and fined in the penalty of twenty pounds each, for having in their custody hair-powder not made
Roman Stations at Pancras and Pentonville.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sir,—The following observations have been the result of a visit to the site of the undoubted Roman camp at Pentonville, and the conjectural remains at St. Pancras. Respecting the former, I have been able to ascertain, that in the course of the year 1825 a labourer, who was occupied in digging in the prÆtorium, turned up a considerable quantity of arrow heads; and shortly afterwards, another labourer, digging a few yards to the south of the same spot, for materials to mend a road, uncovered a pavement of red tiles, about sixteen feet square, each tile being about an inch and a half thick, and about six inches square; they were mostly figured, and some had “strange characters upon them:” unfortunately, the discoverer had neither taste nor curiosity, and they were consigned to the bottom of a deep road.
Mr. Lysons, in that work, treats the idea of a camp having been made near this spot as quite conjectural,
I will conclude this slight, and, I am aware, imperfect view of the various opinions, for and against, by observing, that I resided in Somers-town and its neighbourhood for a considerable period; I carefully watched every excavation made for sewers, foundations for houses, chapels, &c., but I never heard of any discoveries having been made. The place lies too low to have even been frequented by the Romans, more especially when the violence of the river of Wells is considered, which must have descended from the hills like a torrent, and have flooded the whole of the neighbourhood of Somers-town, Battle-bridge, &c.
I am, Sir, yours, &c.
T. A.
Oct. 24, 1826.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 41·12.
November 21.
Ærostation.
Messieurs Montgolfier, two brothers, paper-makers at Annonay in the department of Ardeche, in 1782 discovered the use of rarefied air in floating balloons; and on the 21st of November, 1783, the marquis d’Arlandes and M. Pilatre Rosier made the first unconfined aËrial voyage in a machine called a “Montgolfier,” in honour of the inventors, to distinguish it from balloons made with inflammable air.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 40·27.
November 22.
Cecilia.
Towards the latter end of the seventeenth century, an entertainment was instituted, on the 22d of November, in commemoration of her, by many of the first rank in the kingdom; which was continued annually for a considerable time. A splendid entertainment was provided at Stationers’-hall, which was constantly preceded by a performance of vocal and instrumental music, by the most capital performers. This feast is represented by Mr. Motteux, in 1691, as “one of the genteelest in the world; there are no formalities nor gatherings like as at others, and the appearance there is splendid.” The words, which were always an encomium on their patroness, were set by Purcell, Blow, and others of the greatest eminence; and it became the fashion for writers of all ranks to celebrate saint Cecilia. Besides the odes to her by Dryden, and Pope, Addison, and Yalden, employed their talents on this subject. We have also odes to saint Cecilia by Shadwell, D’Urfey, and some still more indifferent poets. It appears by Mr. Motteux, that there were in 1691 “admirable concerts in Charles-street and York-buildings.”
On the anniversary of St. Cecilia, in 1697, a sermon was preached at St. Bride’s church by Dr. Brady, which he published under the title of “Church Music Vindicated.” The last account discovered by Mr. Nichols, of any entertainment to her memory at Stationers’-hall, is in Mr. Hughes’s ode in 1703. The festivity appears to have been also celebrated at Oxford, and to have been continued there longer. There are two odes to St. Cecilia; one, in 1707, composed by Mr. Purcell, the other, in 1708, by Dr. Blow, “both performed at St. Mary-hall, in Oxon, by Mr. Saunders and Mr. Court, assisted by the best voices and bands.” Mr. Addison’s ode was performed there in 1699; and he has “a song,” without date, on the same occasion.
Cecilian Society.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
The “Cecilian Society,” established in 1785 by a few individuals, has continued, to the present day, to meet once a week for rehearsal, and once a fortnight for the public performance of vocal and instrumental music, chiefly sacred, by Handel, occasionally relieved by popular modern composition.
This society has been the school of eminent composers and performers: such as Barthelomon, Everett, Purkis, Banner, Busby, Griffin, Russel, Miss Bolton, Jacobs, Miss Gray, and many others; among whom are the brothers, the Mr. Nightingales, so highly esteemed in the musical world for their professional talent, and irreproachable demeanour.
The venerable president, Mr. Z. Vincent, is one of the old school of harmonists, and a man of letters. His heart and soul are identified in Handel’s oratorios, and his judgment continues unimpaired. A Mr. Edwards is another instance of attachment to the society, he having been a member upwards of twenty years. The great “unity” that has prevailed, and still prevails, in this society, is an example worthy of a niche in the Every-Day Book. Their present performances are held at the “Albion Hall,” Moorfields, and well attended by the issue of “tickets.” In honour of this day, a grand miscellaneous concert is annually performed; many celebrated professionals attend, and the lovers of harmony never fail of having a high treat.
Astronomical.
On the 22nd of November the sun enters Sagittarius.
According to an old magical MS. of the fourteenth century, an aspect of “Sagittary” seems to have dominion over dogs. “When you wish to enter where there are dogs; that they may not hinder you, make a tin image of a dog, whose head is erected towards his tail, under the first face of Sagittary, and say over it, ‘I bind all dogs by this image, that they do not raise their heads or bark;’ and enter where you please.”
“Ben”—“the Old General”—of Nottingham.
“Ben”—“the Old General”—of Nottingham.
And intimate with Mr. Mayor.
*
Benjamin Mayo is believed to be the proper name of the “General,” his other appellations he derived from having been the ringleader of the boys, from his youth to the present time, on all occasions for which they assemble together in the town of Nottingham.
In order “to secure the boundaries of the town, a certain number of respectable characters, annually appointed, form what is called the Middleton, Mickleton, or Leet Jury, and circumambulate them twice a year, with the coroner at their head; it is also the duty of this jury to break down all obstructions in old roads, to fine those persons who may have made such encroachments as do not immediately obstruct a public road, and to present all nuisances at the quarter sessions.”
On “Middleton Monday” all the school-boys in the town expect a holyday; it is the juvenile Saturnalia; and though the “General” is great on all occasions, he is especially so on “Middleton Monday;” for compared with him, the mayor, the coroner, and other municipal authorities, are subordinate officers in the estimation of the youthful tribes.
Previous to the jury commencing their survey, away trots “General,” with several hundreds of boys at his heels, to secure the sacred and inviolable right of a holyday. Two or three urchins, with shining, morning faces, lead the way to their own schoolmaster’s, who, in violation of the “orders of the day,” is seated amidst the few children whose parents have refused to grant a holyday, and therefore dare not “play travant.” Some “devoted Decius” in miniature, ventures in, on the forlorn hope of procuring liberty for the rest. Down drop books, pens, pencils, to the increasing cry of “Out, out, out.” The commander-in-chief arrives, amidst the cheers of his enthusiastic and devoted troops, takes up his position opposite to the door, and commands the onset. The advanced guard assail the portal with redoubled blows of their pocket-handkerchiefs, and old rope-ends, knotted into tommies, and the main body throw the missile mud. Ere long, a random stone breaks some window; this is speedily followed by a second and third crash; out sallies the master to seize the culprit, his sentinels are overpowered, the invaders rush in, the besieged are unmercifully belaboured till the capitulation is completed, but no sooner do they join the “liberating army,” than a shout of triumph is raised, and the place is abandoned. The aide-de-camps having reported to “the General,” what other fortresses hold out, the nearest is attacked in the same way. It often happens, however, that a parley is demanded, and “the General” shamelessly receives a bribe to desist. Alas! that one so devoted to the cause of liberty should be so easily corrupted—twopence will induce the commander-in-chief to withdraw, with his faithful followers, of fickle principle, and leave the anxious garrison to the uncontrolled power of its wily governor.
Upwards of twenty years ago, opposition to “the General” was rare, but about that period schoolmasters began to learn their strength. One individual successfully resisted during a three hours’ siege; the house for years bore marks of the mud with which it was pelted; but ever after he was triumphant, though frequently at the expense of an oaken staff, or an ash sapling, broken in repulsing the invaders. After repeated assaults, “the General” deemed this “hold” impregnable, and desisted from his attacks.
So many of the disciples of learning being emancipated, or prisoners, as “the General” can liberate or capture, he sets forward with the “surveying council,” escorted by his army, to commence the perambulation of the town. If a projecting scraper endanger the shins of the burgesses, it is recorded, and the Middleton jury pass on; but the juvenile admirers of summary and instantaneous justice are for the immediate removal of the offender. Perhaps the good old dame of the house “likes not these new regulations,” and takes up a strong position
View “the General” at eleven o’clock, with his forces drawn up in front of the Castle lodge, demanding admittance into the Castle yard—a summons always evaded by the distribution of a quantity of cakes and gingerbread. On “the General’s” word of command the precious sweets are thrown, one by one, over the gate, and the confusion of a universal scramble ensues. After the whole is distributed, the popularity of “the General” rapidly wanes; hundreds are reduced to scores, and scores to ones—at noon he is
By those his former bounty fed.
In memory, however, of his departed greatness, he never deigns to work for the rest of the day.
Before the approach of “Middleton Monday,” fifty times a day the important question is put to the General, “When will be Middleton Monday?” Once he said, “I don’t know yet, the mayor ha’n’t ax’d me what day’ll suit me.” On the following Saturday he answered, “The mayor sent his respects to know if I’d let it be Middleton Monday next week; and I sent my respects, and I’d come.”
Ben Mayo has ever been “null, void, and of no effect,” except in his character of “General.” He is a harmless idiot, who, during most of his life, has been an inmate of St. Peter’s workhouse. He is now nearly fifty years of age. If erect, he would be under the middle size; his stature not being more than four feet nine inches. He is very round-shouldered. His eyes are dark grey, and rather lively; the lower part of his face is no way remarkable, but his forehead is very high, and singularly prominent in the middle; his head, which is thinly covered with hair cut very short, always projected before him in his shuffling gait, which is rather a run than a walk. His vestment generally consists of the “hodden grey” uniform of the parish; his shirt collar, like that of some other public characters, is usually unbuttoned, and displays his copper-coloured bosom. Grey stockings and quarter boots complete his equipment, for he never wears a hat. Though coarse, his dress is generally clean and tidy.
“The General” is constant in his attendance at church, where his behaviour is serious; and he would on no account be seen about in the streets on the Sabbath, for, being one of the public characters of the town, it would be setting a bad example. In politics, he is a staunch supporter of the powers that be; on such occasions as the king’s birth-day, and the coronation, Ben is sure to be seen with a bunch of blue riband to his coat, while at an election, to display his loyalty, he is dusted with power-blue from the crown of his head to the skirts. He has, however, no objection to aid “the Jacobin corporation,” as far as in him lies; and, according to his own account, he is particularly intimate with the mayor for the time being, whom he allows to be the first man in the town—himself being second. He is remarkably fond of peace and with his wand in hand will “charge” it, where there is no fear of its being broken.
Like other military men, “General” is a favourite with the ladies, inasmuch as he is known equally to high and low, and makes promises to all indiscriminately (who please him) that he will marry them “next Sunday morning;” at the same time, he cautions the favoured fair not to be later than half past seven, “for fear somebody else should get him.”
The “General’s” usual occupation is to sell the cheap commodities of the walking stationers, such as dreadful shipwrecks, horrid murders, calendars of the prisoners, last dying speeches and behaviours, or lists of the race horses. Sometimes, when the titles of these occur closely, he makes curious “varieties of literature.” Not long since, he was calling “A right and true calendar of all the running horses confined in his majesty’s gole, owners’ names, horses’ names, and colours of the riders, tried, cast, ’quit, and condemned before my lord judge this ’sizes, and how they came in every heat of the three days, with the sentences of the prisoners.”
About four years ago, at Lenton fair and wakes, which are always at Whitsuntide, and numerously attended from Nottingham, being only a mile distant, some wag set “General” to proclaim the
Of the many anecdotes current of “General,” one or two authentic ones will display the union of shrewdness and simplicity common to persons of his order of intelligence. On a certain occasion, when public attention was directed towards the commander-in-chief, one evening in the twilight Ben began, “Here’s the grand and noble speech as the duke of York made yesterday.” A person, who had heard nothing of such a speech, immediately purchased one, and on approaching a window found himself possessed of a piece of blank paper. “General,” said he, “here’s nothing on it.” “No, sir, the duke of York said nowt.” Being set, at the workhouse, to turn a wheel, he did so properly enough for about half an hour, but becoming tired, he immediately began to turn backwards, nor could he be persuaded to the contrary. A blockhead once tried to make him quarrel with an idiot lad, as they were employed in sweeping the street together; “Oh,” said he, “he is a poor soft lad, and beneath my notice.” There is another instance of his dislike of work: having been set to weed part of the garden, he performed the task by pulling up all the flowers and herbs, and leaving the weeds growing. He once found a sixpence, and ran up the street shouting, “Who’s lost sixpence, who’s lost sixpence?” “It’s mine, General,” said one. “But had your’s a hole in it?” “Yes,” said he—“But this hasn’t,” rejoined General, and away he ran. His mode of running is remarkable, inasmuch as one leg is considerably shorter than the other, which gives his body an up-and-down motion. One peculiarity is, that when he has any fresh papers to sell he will never stop to take money till quite out of breath, and arrived at the extremity of the town.
David Love, of whom there is an account in the present volume of the Every-Day Book, p. 226, is still in Nottingham. In May he visited Hull, but while carolling his wild lays in a place where he was not known, he was apprehended as a vagrant, and consigned to the tread-mill for a fortnight.
David, on his return to Nottingham, favoured us with “three varra couras poems of David Love’s composing, all about the trad wheel, where he warked for a fortnight—only a penny.” His numerous admirers purchased considerably.
Besides the “General” and the “bard” now living, Nottingham has been the residence of several equally noted personages deceased; such as Tommy Rippon, Piping Charley, the ventriloquist, &c.; and we have yet amongst us Jacky Peet, and other memorable characters, whose fame, it is feared, may not find an honest chronicler.
Nottingham, Oct. 23, 1826.
G.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 39·65.
November 23.
St. Clement.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sir,—In your last year’s volume I see you have taken great notice of St. Clement, and the customs observed on his day; but I do not see any mention of a custom which was common in Worcestershire, where I was born. I am entirely ignorant of its origin; yet in my youth I have often been at its celebration. The custom was as follows:—
On the afternoon of St. Clement’s day, a number of boys collected together in a body, and went from house to house; and at the door of each house, one, or sometimes more, would recite, or chaunt, the following lines—
Some of your apples, and some of your beer
Some for Peter, and some for Paul,
And some for him that made us all.
Clement was a good old man,
For his sake give us some;
Not of the worst, but some of the best,
And God will send your soul to rest.
Some would say,
Sometimes grown men would go in like manner, and, to such, the people of the house would give ale or cider; but to the boys they gave apples, or, if they had none to spare, a few halfpence. Having collected a good store of apples, which they seldom failed to do, the boys repaired to some one of their houses, where they roasted and ate the apples; and frequently the old would join the young, and large vessels of ale or cider would be brought in, and some of the roasted apples thrown hot into it, and the evening would then be spent with much mirth and innocent amusement; such as, I sorrow to think, have departed never to return.
Such, sir, was one of the usages “in my youthful days,” in that part of the country of which I have spoken. I have had but little intercourse with it of late years, but I fear these improved times have left but little spirit or opportunity for the observance of such ways, or the enjoyment of such felicity. Much has been said of improvement, and the happy state of the present over times past; but, on striking the balance, it may be found that the poor have lost much of their solid comfort, for the little improvement they have obtained.
You, Mr. Editor, have exposed with a masterly hand the superstitions and monkery of the olden time, for which you have my best thanks, in common, I believe, with those of nine out of every ten in the nation; but should a Mr. Hone arise two hundred years hence, I think he would have something to say upon these our times. I fear, however, I am going beyond my object, which is not to find fault, but to acquaint you with a practice which, if worthy a place in your pleasant, instructive, and highly useful work, I shall be glad to see there memorialed.
I am, &c.
Selits.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 40·02.
November 24.
Spectres and Apparitions.
In a popular “calendar” there are some observations on this day, which, as the time for telling “Ghost stories” is come in, seem appropriate. They are to the effect, that there is an essential difference between “Ocular Spectres” and “Spectral Illusions.”
Ocular Spectres move with the motion of the eye, whatever may be the forms of the spectrum on the retina; hence, they are spectra in the eye.
Spectral Illusions, or Ghosts, seem to move with their own proper motion, like real persons, and the objects in dreams; hence they are not in the eye itself or retina, but may arise in the brain.
We know nothing of the particular laws whereby these forms are regulated, as they occur without the conscious precurrence of the usual chains of thought, and often represent forms, and combinations of forms, almost entirely new to us. Some persons only see these spectres once or twice in their lives, and that only during diseases: others are continually harassed by them, and often mistake some one consistent spectre, which frequently comes and converses with them, for their guardian angel. In proportion, however, as the phantom gains on the credulity of the patient who beholds it, the latter approximates towards insanity. According to the disturbance of the brain of the individuals, the spectres are either horrifying or delightful, and partake of the character of the patient’s mind, as it is influenced variously by desire, fear, hope, and so on. We have known instances where the antiphlogistic measures resorted to with success, have been viewed by the patient, when recovered, as positive evils, having forcibly torn from him some perpetual and pleasing illusion.
The late Mr. John Wheeler, prebendary of Westminster, used to relate a remarkable story of the AbbÉ Pilori at Florence, who incurred a tremendous spectral disorder in consequence of a surfeit of mushrooms he one day ate. These fungi, not digesting, disturbed his brain, and he saw the frightful and appalling forms of scorpions continually before his eyes for a length of time.
This brings to our minds yet another observation with regard to spectra. Persons who are somewhat delirious from fever are apt to give to half-distinguished forms, in a darkish chamber, the most frightful imaginary shapes. This is a disorder distinct from that of seeing phantoms. A. Y. R. a child, being ill of fever, saw some bulbous roots laying on a table in the room, and conceived them immediately to be scorpions; nor could any thing convince her of the contrary, and they consequently were removed out of the room to relieve her terrors.
A familiar instance of deception is exemplified in the false voices which some persons imagine they hear calling them, faintly in common, but so as to deceive for a moment. When this false perception of sound concurs with images of spectral illusion, a formidable imitation of reality is maintained.
A poetical friend, whose signature will be recollected as having been attached to “Sea Sonnets,” obligingly communicates a seasonable effusion of the like order of composition, prefaced by the following passage from Dr. Buchan:—
“If the power of volition be suspended, persons may dream while they are awake. Such is the case when, in an evening, looking into the fire, we let slip the reins of the imagination, and, yielding implicitly to external objects, a succession of splendid or terrific imagery is produced by the embers in the grate.”
FIRE-SIDE SONNET.
For the Every-Day Book.
Upon my fire, as broad and high it blaz’d,
In idle and unweeting mood I gaz’d,
And, in that mass of bright and glowing things
Fancy, which in such moments readiest springs,
Soon found materials for imagination:
Within the fire, all listless as I maz’d,
There saw I trees and towers, and hills and plains,
Faces with warm smiles glowing, flocks and swains.
And antic shapes of laughable creation:
And thus the poet’s soul of fire contains
A store of all things bright and glorious! rais’d
By fancy, that daft artizan, to shape
Into fair scenes and forms, that nature’s best may ape.
W. T. M.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 39·80.
November 25.
St. Catherine.
For an account of this Saint, see vol. i. col. 1504.
Bubbles.
In the “Morning Advertiser” of this day, 1807, which year was almost as much distinguished by joint-stock impositions as the present, there are two advertisements, which, from their station in the advertising columns of that paper, have a more remarkable, than if they had been displayed in its columns of entertainment, viz:
FINAL MEETING of the PUBLIC BLACKING SUBSCRIPTION COMPANY, held at the Boot in Leather-lane,
ANTHONY VARNISH, Esq. in the Chair, Sir John Blackwell, Knight, being indisposed.
The Chairman reported that Mr. Timothy Lightfoot, the Treasurer, had brushed off with the old fund, and that the deputation who had waited on Mr. Fawcett, the Proprietor of the Brilliant Fluid Blacking, at No. 76, Houndsditch, could not prevail on him to dispose of his right thereto in favour of this Company, although they had made him the most liberal offers.
Resolved, That this Meeting being fully sensible that any attempt to establish a rival Blacking would totally fail of success, from the high estimation in which the above popular article is held, and the mishap of the Treasurer having damped the ardour of the undertaking, that this design be altogether abandoned.
Resolved, That the character of the Promoters of this Company ought not to be blackened in public esteem, as there is no direct proof of their having shared the spoils with the Treasurer.
Signed, by Order of the Meeting,
JACOB BRUSHWELL, Sec.
THE LONDON COMPANY for GENUINE MATCHES.—It having been
Such imposition having proved very injurious to a number of servants, by being discharged for neglect of duty, has induced Mr. Parr, in conjunction with six eminent Timber Merchants, to purchase those extensive Premises in Gunpowder-alley, near Shoe-lane, formerly occupied by the Saltpetre Company, for the sole purpose of a Genuine Match Manufactory.
The Public may be assured that this laudable undertaking is countenanced by some of the first characters in the United Kingdoms.
The Managers pledge themselves to employ the best work-people, both men, women, and children, that can be procured, which will amount to 1500 persons and upwards, as they conclude, by the large orders already received, that a less number will procrastinate the business.
Each Subscriber to have the privilege of recommending two, who are to bring certificates from the Minister of the Parish where they reside, of their being sober, honest, and industrious persons.
The Managers further engage to make oath before the Lord Mayor every three months, that the matches are made of the most prime new yellow Deal, and also that the Brimstone is without the least adulteration.
Not less than 12 penny bunches can be had.
Any order amounting to 1l. will be sent free of expense, to any part of the town, not exceeding two miles from the Manufactory.
The Capital first intended to be raised is Two Millions, in 50l. Shares, 2l. per Share to be paid at the time of subscribing, 3l. that day month, 4l. in six weeks, 5l. in two months, and so on regularly until the whole is subscribed.
Holders of five shares to be on Committees, and holders of ten will qualify them for Directors.
Although this plan has not been set on foot more than a week, it is presumed the call for Shares has been equal to a month’s demand for Shares in any of the late Institutions.
Schemes at large may be had, and Subscriptions received by Mr. Tinder, Secretary, at the Counting-house, from ten till two; also at his Residence, near the Turpentine Manufactory, St. John-street-road, from four to six; likewise by Messrs. Sawyer, Memel, and Tieup, Solicitors, Knave’s-acre, Westminster.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 41·27.
November 26.
The Season.
Autumnal appearances are increasing, and occasional gales of wind and interchanges of nipping frost hasten the approaching winter. The following passage seems to allude to the wintry garb of nature:—“The earth mourneth and languisheth; Lebanon is ashamed and withereth away; Sharon is like a wilderness; and Bashan and Carmel shake off their fruits.”—Isaiah, xxiii. 9.
Soon shall we be compelled to exclaim with the poet, in reference to this, generally speaking, gloomy season,
When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang
On those wild boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined quires, where late the sweet birds sang.
November, however, has its bright as well as its dark side. “It is now,” observes a pleasing writer, “that the labourer is about to enjoy a temporary mitigation of the season’s toil. His little store of winter provision having been hardly earned and safely lodged, his countenance brightens, and his heart warms, with the anticipation of winter comforts. As the day shortens and the hours of darkness increase, the domestic affections are awakened anew by a closer and more lengthened converse; the father is now once more in the midst of his family; the child is now once more on the knee of its parent; and she, in whose comfort his heart is principally interested, is again permitted, by the privileges of the season, to increase and to participate his happiness. It is now that the husbandman is repaid for his former risk and anxiety—that, having waited patiently for the coming harvest, he builds up his sheaves, loads his waggons, and replenishes his barns.” It is now that men of study and literary pursuit are admonished of the best season suited for the pursuits of literature; and the snug fireside in an armed chair, during a long winter’s evening, with an entertaining book, is a pleasure by no means to be despised. There is something, too, very pleasing in the festivals which are now approaching, and which preserve the recollection of olden time.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 41·52.
November 27.
A National Death Day.
The chapter of an old, black-letter book of wonderful things concludes with the following amusing paragraph:—
“Here may we also speak of the people, Lucumoria, dwelling among the hilles, beyond the river Olbis. These men die every year the 27 of November, which day at Rutheas was dedicated to Saint Gregorie; and in the next spring following, most commonly at the four and twentieth day of April, they rise again like frogs.”
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 40·00.
November 28.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 39·65.
November 29.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 39·90.
November 30.
St. Andrew.
Respecting this Saint, the patron of Scotland, there is a notice in vol. i. 1537.
The Model Lottery.
For the Every-Day Book.
A Model Lottery is drawn on the 30th of November, at Mr. Oldershaw’s office, Lower-street, Islington. Several capital prizes are made, the principal of which is Fonthill Abbey, valued at 5l. There are others less valuable, Islington church, Cannonbury Tower, the Queen’s Head, Sir William Curtis’s villa, at Southgate,—the house in which Garrick was born,—many Italian buildings, and a variety to the number of 500. Each adventurer, by paying three shillings, draws a share which is equal, in the worst chance, to the deposit. The scheme is contrived by an ingenious artist and his wife, whose names are Golding. Previously to the drawing-day, three days are allowed for friendly inspection. It is laudable to see this Model Lottery patronised by the most respectable ladies and gentlemen in the vicinity where it takes place. This is the second year of its existence.
P.S. For Bradenstock, p. 1371, read Bradenstoke; and for Brinkworth, p. 1373, read Bremhill. Dr. Allsop, of Calne, was the gentleman who cut out the “White Horse at Cheverill,” at which place and time a revel was most merrily kept. J. R. P.
Corrections and Illustrations,
For the Every-Day Book.
Your correspondent in his account of “Clack Fall Fair,” p. 1371, has fallen into a few mistakes.
Bradenstoke was not an abbey, but a priory.
He might have inquired some further particulars of the Golden Image, said to have been found. In whose possession it now is? It is believed the circumstance, if true, is not generally known in the neighbourhood. Query, the name of the Carpenter?
The idea of a subterraneous passage from Bradenstoke Priory to Malmsbury Abbey, a distance of eight or ten miles, intersected by a deep valley, through which the Avon meanders, is absurd, and can only be conceived as one of the wild traditions derived from monkish times.
Can your correspondent furnish further particulars of the horrible story of the boy murdered by his schoolmaster, when and whom?
His account of “Joe Ody’s” exploits may be very correct. He is well remembered by the elder peasantry.
It is presumed, your correspondent meant to say, that the song was attributed to Bowles of Bremhill, not Brinkworth. The Rev. W. L. Bowles is rector, or vicar, of Bremhill, about five or six miles from Clack Brinkworth, about the same distance in the opposite direction.
Your correspondent might have noticed the mound called Clack Mount. Perhaps he will favour you with further recollections of the localities of Clack, and its vicinity.
The remains of a may-pole are visible at Clack; but the pole itself is believed not to be remembered by any person now living, or, if remembered, by very old persons only.
A Reader.
