CHAPTER XV.

Death of Scott, “the American Diver”—Prince Albert’s ducking—Monster cheese—“The Boy Jones”—“Tracts for the Times,” Tract XC—Earl of Cardigan flogs a soldier on Sunday—Dispute as to the discovery of Electric Telegraph—Sale of Shakspere autograph—The Census—Astley’s burnt—Behaviour of “gentlemen.”

The first bit of gossip of this year was the tragic death of Sam Scott, “the American diver,” who was born at Philadelphia, and, at an early age, entered the American navy. His extraordinary courage and prowess as a diver rendered him very popular, and, after quitting the naval service, he travelled about the Union exhibiting. He, subsequently, visited Canada, and made some tremendous leaps from the banks of the St. Lawrence, and the lakes which intersect that country; but hischef d’œuvrewas leaping from a precipice below the Falls of Niagara, where, according to his own statement, he jumped the amazing distance of 595 feet, into the water, which he accomplished without injury or inconvenience!

He was performing in England in 1838, and came to London in the latter part of 1840; and we now hear of him as issuing a “Challenge to the World for 100 Guineas! Monday next, Jan. 11, 1841, and during the week, Samuel Scott, the American diver, will run from Godfrey’s White Lion, Drury Lane, to Waterloo Bridge, and leap into the water, forty feet high from the bridge, and return back within the hour, every day during the week, between one and two o’clock.” There were about 8,000 or 10,000 people assembled to see the feat, which was to be performed from a scaffolding overhanging the river. Here he swung by a rope noose round his chin, and afterwards, with his head downwards and oneof his feet in the noose. He then again hung suspended by his chin, but the noose slipped, and he was hanged in sight of all that huge crowd. This fatal accident created a great impression at the time.

I do not know the Evening paper from which the following “small beer” chronicle is copied into theTimesof 12 Feb., but it purports to be an “authentic account” of an accident to Prince Albert: “It appears that His Royal Highness was walking in the Royal gardens, in company of Her Majesty, the only attendant present being the Hon. Miss Murray, one of the Maids of Honour in waiting upon the Queen. It not being understood by Col. Bouverie and Lieut. Seymour that His Royal Highness intended to skate, they were not, as usual, in attendance on the Prince, who had left the Palace, with Her Majesty, without their knowledge. After walking for a short time with the Queen, on the margin of the lake, His Royal Highness put on his skates, and left Her Majesty, who remained watching the movements of the Prince from the gardens. He had not been on the ice more than two or three minutes, when, as he was proceeding at a rapid rate towards the spot where the Queen was standing, and had reached between three or four feet of the water’s edge, the ice suddenly broke, and, instantaneously he was immersed, head over ears, in the water. His Royal Highness immediately rose to the surface, when Her Majesty, with great presence of mind, joined her hand to that of the Hon. Miss Murray (telling her to stand firm, and to betray no fear), and, extending her right hand to the Prince, dragged him to the shore. Her Majesty manifested the greatest courage upon the occasion, and acted with the most intrepid coolness. As soon as the Prince was safe on dry land, the Queen gave way to the natural emotions of joy and thankfulness at his providential escape.

“The Prince then lost no time in proceeding to the Palace, where a warm bath was immediately prepared, and His Royal Highness, within an hour afterwards, was sufficiently well to receive the King of the Belgians, upon His Majesty’s arrival from Claremont. The ice in the centre of the lake beingnearly a foot in thickness, some surprise has been created that the accident should have occurred; but it appears that the keepers appointed to attend on the numerous and various aquatic birds which are preserved in the gardens of the palace, had broken the ice along the sides of the lake to enable them to take the water during the frost. These portions had again become slightly frozen over, since they were broken at an early part of the morning. This was unknown to the Prince, or the Queen, and, hence, the accident occurred. There was no person present, at the time, connected with the gardens, to point out his danger to His Royal Highness. Yesterday morning, the Prince was suffering from the effects of a slight cold; but, beyond this, His Royal Highness has sustained no inconvenience.”

On the 10th Feb. the Princess Royal was christened.

On 19 Feb. the Queen had a monster cheese presented to her, “on which occasion, she was pleased to express her satisfaction.” It was made from the morning’s milking of 737 cows, prepared by the labour of 50 dairy women, at West Pennard, Somersetshire, and it weighed 11 cwt. It was octagon in shape, and its upper surface was decorated with the Royal Arms, surmounted with a wreath of roses, thistles and shamrocks. Unfortunately, although it had been made over two years, it was not considered to be fit to eat for another eighteen months.

Ecce iterumthe irrepressibleBoy Jones! Prison evidently had no terrors for him; for, no sooner was he liberated from Tothill Fields, on 2 Mar., than he, almost immediately, set to work to repeat his former escapades. On the day previous to his liberation, he was visited by Mr. Hall, a magistrate, who tried to persuade him to go to sea; but Jones made certain conditions which could not be acceded to, and he did not go. This gave an opportunity for theSatiristto come out with the following appropriate lines:

“The impudent urchin, whom sure the devil owns,And Government wants to send into the Navy;Will not go to sea—and ’tis cunning of Jones,Who, thus, may avoid his relation, Old Davey.”

He was then delivered into the care of his parents, with strict injunctions to them to watch his actions; and, for some days, his conduct was unexceptionable; he frequently attended a Methodist chapel, and expressed his intention of joining a teetotal society. But the charms of notoriety were too strong for him; and, again, he was drawn, as it were by a magnet, to Buckingham Palace. Indeed, it possessed such attractions for him, that, when required to pledge himself, before leaving prison, not to visit the Palace again, he said he would not promise, as his curiosity was so great.

On 15 March, shortly after 1 a.m., the sergeant of police on duty at the Palace imagined, as he was going along the Grand Hall, that he saw someone peeping through the glass door, and this turned out to be the case; for, on his approach, Jones ran up against him, and was, of course, immediately secured. In consequence of his previous visits, two extra policemen had been appointed, whose duty it was, on alternate nights, to watch all the staircases and interior of the building, and it was owing to this arrangement that Master Jones was stopped early in his career, on this last occasion.

Like most boys, Jones had a keen appreciation of a feast, all the more enjoyable because irregularly come by; and, when he was arrested, he was found to have been sitting at his ease in one of the royal apartments, regaling himself with some cold meat and potatoes, which he had conveyed upstairs in his handkerchief. On being questioned how he obtained an entrance, his reply was, “the same way as before”; and he boasted, moreover, that he could, at any time he pleased, get into the palace; but he was extremely taciturn, and refused to satisfy curiosity, more particularly on this point.

What he confessed at his examination by the Privy Council is not known, as the proceedings were in private, reporters being excluded, and the public were left in possession of only the above bare facts. He persisted that the only motive for his intrusion was to hear the conversation at Court, and to write an account of it; but this plea of simplicity did not save him from a repetition of his old sentence of three monthsimprisonment in the House of Correction, with the uncomfortable addition, this time, of hard labour. Perhaps the best punishment for this juvenile addition of Paul Pry would have been that suggested by theSatirist, in the following paragraph: “As the urchin Jones, in a letter to his father, stated that his reason for entering the Queen’s house was to ‘seek for noose, in order to rite a book,’ it is a matter of general regret that, instead of magnifying the affair into Home Office importance, the young rogue was not accommodated with a rope’s end.” His visit, however, necessitated the appointment of three additional sentries at the palace.

What became of him afterwards, nobody knows and nobody cares, but, one thing is certain, he waspersuadedto go to sea, andPunch(born 17 July) devotes a page (vol. i., p. 46) to “The Boy Jones’s Log,” a portion of which is as follows:

“This mellancholly reflexion threw me into a poeticle fitte, and though I was werry uneasy in mystommik, and had nothing to rite on but mychest, I threw off as follows in a few 2nds, and arterards sung it to the well-none hair of ‘Willy Reilly’:—“Oakum to me,[156]ye sailors bold,Wot plows upon the sea;To you I mean for to unfoldMy mournful historie.So pay attention to my song,And quick-el-ly shall appear,How innocently, all along,I was in-weigle-ed here.“One night, returnin home to bed,I walk’d through Pim-li-co,And, twigging of the Palass, sed,‘I’mJonesand In-i-go.’But afore I could get out, my boys,Pollise-man 20A,He caught me by the corderoys,And lugged me right a-way.“My cuss upon Lord Melbun, andOn Jonny Russ-all-so,That forc’d me from my native land,Across the waves to go-o-oh!But all their spiteful arts is wain,My spirit down to keep;I hopes I’ll soon git back again,To take another peep.”

“Oakum to me,[156]ye sailors bold,Wot plows upon the sea;To you I mean for to unfoldMy mournful historie.So pay attention to my song,And quick-el-ly shall appear,How innocently, all along,I was in-weigle-ed here.

“One night, returnin home to bed,I walk’d through Pim-li-co,And, twigging of the Palass, sed,‘I’mJonesand In-i-go.’But afore I could get out, my boys,Pollise-man 20A,He caught me by the corderoys,And lugged me right a-way.

“My cuss upon Lord Melbun, andOn Jonny Russ-all-so,That forc’d me from my native land,Across the waves to go-o-oh!But all their spiteful arts is wain,My spirit down to keep;I hopes I’ll soon git back again,To take another peep.”

To follow Chronology compels me to turn suddenly from gay to grave topics. In September, 1833, Newman commenced theTracts for the Times, which, according to its advertisement, had the object of “contributing something towards the practical revival of doctrines (such as the Apostolic Succession, and the Holy Catholic Church) which, although held by the great divines of our Church, have become practically obsolete with the majority of her members.” Keble and others joined him at once, as did Pusey as soon as the state of his health permitted, together with nearly all the advanced thinkers at Oxford. These Tracts, issued from time to time, caused a mighty upheaval in the Church of England, which was known as the “Tractarian movement,” the effects of which have lasted to this day, as may be witnessed in the vast extension of Church building, the larger attendance and more devout behaviour of congregations, the brighter and more ornate services, which are so great a contrast to the general sleepiness both of pastor and flock which then existed.

Some of these Tracts went farther than people were, as yet, able to follow, they were “strong meat for babes,” and the publication of Tract XC., by Newman, on the Thirty-nine Articles, brought things to a climax, and on 15 March, the Vice-Chancellor and the Heads of Houses met to censure the publication; they came to the resolution: “That modes of interpretation, such as are suggested in the said Tract, evading rather than explaining the sense of the Thirty-nine Articles, and reconciling subscription to them, with the adoption of errors which they were designed to counteract, defeat the object, and are inconsistent with the due observance ofthe Statutes of the University.” They only expressed their opinion which was all they could do, but Newman avowed the authorship of the Tract, and whilst he was still unconvinced of his error, he wrote, “I am sincerely sorry for the trouble and anxiety I have given to the members of the Board, and I beg to return my thanks to them, for an act which, even though founded on misapprehension, may be made as profitable to myself, as it is religiously and charitably intended.”

At this time, neither the writers of the Tracts, nor their readers, had any intention of severing themselves from the Church of England, their sole endeavours were to wake it from the torpor into which it had fallen; and, had there been any tolerance on the other side, such men as Newman, Manning, and others, would have been kept to the Church, for they merely enunciated doctrine and practices which are now almost universal.

The old flint-lock Brown Bess was still in use in the Army, although percussion arms were introduced in 1840; but we read (13 Ap.) that “the exchange of flint for percussion cap guns to the Army, will cost, this year, £130,000.”

That amiable gentleman, the Earl of Cardigan, was still making himself notorious. This time it was flogging a soldier on Easter Sunday, after Church; and the very first question asked in the House of Commons, when it met after the Easter recess, was by Mr. Hume, relating to it. Mr. Macauly replied that: “Whatever other imputations there might be cast on Lord Cardigan, a disposition for the infliction of corporal punishment was not one which could justly be thrown on him. From inquiries which he had made, he had found that, since 1839, up to the recent case, there was not an instance of the infliction of corporal punishment in this regiment. The charge, however, for which he was justly liable to public censure, was the immediate infliction of punishment, on a Sunday, after Divine Service. Such a proceeding was clearly contrary to the religious feelings and habits of the people of this country, and could not be reconciled with either good sense, or good feeling.” Lord Hill, the Commander-in-Chief, only felt “surprised” at Lord Cardigan’s conduct; but theTimesof 24 Apl. had a most scathing leading article on the subject, winding up with “we trust some independent member of the House of Commons will take an early opportunity of cutting the Gordian knot, and move an address to the Crown for the removal of the Earl of Cardigan from the Lieut.-Colonelcy of the 11th Hussars.”[159]

The Electric Telegraph being now afait accompli, the honour of the discovery was disputed between Cooke and Wheatstone—both claiming it. It was settled by arbitration, the referees being Marc Isimbard Brunel, the eminent civil engineer, and Professor Daniell, the inventor of the Galvanic battery which bears his name, and their Solomonian judgment was as follows: “While Mr. Cooke is entitled to stand alone, as the gentleman to whom this country is indebted for having practically introduced and carried out the Electric Telegraph as a useful undertaking, promising to be a work of national importance; and Professor Wheatstone is acknowledged as the scientific man, whose profound and scientific researches had, already, prepared the public to receive it as a project capable of practical application; it is to the united labours of two gentlemen so well qualified for mutual assistance, that we must attribute the rapid progress which this important invention has made during the five years since they have been associated.”

On 24 May was sold by auction an undoubtedly authentic signature of Shakspere, attached to a deed, thus described in the catalogue: “Shakspere’s autograph affixed to a deed of bargain and sale of a house purchased by him, in Blackfriars, from Henry Walker, dated March 10, 1612, with the seals attached.” The poet is described as “Wm. Shakspeare, of Stratforde upon Avon, in the countie of Warwick, gentleman”; and the premises thus: “All that dwelling house, or tenement, with the appurtenance, situate and being within the precinct, circuit and compasse of the late black ffryers, London, sometymes in the tenure of James Gardiner, Esqre., andsince that time, in the tenure of John Ffortescue, gent, and now, or late being in the tenure or occupacon of one William Ireland, or of his assignee or assignees; abutting upon a streete leading down to Pudle Wharffe on the east part, right against the King’s Majesties Wardrobe; part of wch said tenement is erected over a great gate leading to a capitall messuage, wch sometyme was in the tenure or occupacon of the Right Honourable Henry now Earle of Northumberland.” The deed, at the commencement is stated to be “betweene Henry Walker, Citizen and Minstrell, of London, of thone partie, and William Shakspeare, of Stratforde upon Avon, in the countie of Warwick, gentleman; William Johnson, Citizen and Vintner, of London; John Jackson and John Hemyng, of London, of thother partie”; and that the property was absolutely sold to all four, “theire heires and assigns for ever.” The deed is regularly entered in the Rolls’ Court Sir F. Madden (continues the catalogue) states in his “Observations on the autograph of Shakspere,” in Florio’s translation ofMontaigne’s Essays, which was sold in 1838: “There are five acknowledged genuine signatures in existence, exclusive of the one which forms the subject of this communication. Of these, three are attached to his will in the Prerogative Court, executed the 25th March, 1615–16; the fourth is written on a mortgage deed, dated 11 March, 1612–13; of a small estate purchased by Shakspere, of Henry Walker, in Blackfriars; and the fifth, on the counterpart of the deed of bargain and sale of the said property, dated 10 March, 1612–13; and, speaking of the last, Sir F. Madden says, at p. 14: ‘What has become of this document?’ a query which the auctioneers say is answered. Of these six signatures, three to the will are in Doctors’ Commons (two of them much injured by the hands of the lovers of Shakspere); the one inMontaigne’s Essaysis now in the British Museum; what has become of the mortgage deed is quite unknown: this, then, is the only autograph of Shakspere ever likely to be offered for sale.” After many and very animated biddings it was eventually knocked down to Mr. Elkins for £165 15s. These two deeds are now in safe keeping, one being in theBritish Museum, the other belonging to the Corporation of the City of London. The authenticity of the signature inMontaigne’s Essaysis open to discussion. At the same sale was sold “the Shakspere Cup,” made from the mulberry tree said to have been planted by Shakspere, carved on the sides with a medallion of Shakspere, and his Coat of Arms. This was for nearly 30 years in the possession of Munden, the actor, and it realised £21. In the British Museum is a beautifully-carved casket, made of the same wood, which, together with the freedom of Stratford-on-Avon, was given to Garrick by the Corporation of the town in 1769.

The decennial Census, which began in 1801, was, according to the Act 3 and 4 Vic., c. 29, taken of the number of individuals who slept in the respective houses in each parish, throughout England and Wales, on the night of Sunday, 6 June. Scotland, the Channel Islands, and the Isle of Man were also taken, but Ireland was not; and the following return includes only such part of the Army, Navy, and Merchant Seamen, as were, at the time of the Census, within the Kingdom on shore:

Males.

Females.

Total.

England

7,321,875

7,673,633

14,995,508

Wales

447,533

463,788

911,321

Persons ascertained to have been travelling by railroads and canals on night of 6 June

4,003

893

4,896

Scotland

1,241,276

1,379,334

2,620,610

Islands in the British Seas

57,598

66,481

124,079

Total

18,656,414

On 8 June, Astley’s Amphitheatre was burnt down, one life being sacrificed, and causing a monetary loss of over £30,000. This calamity so affected the proprietor, Mr. Ducrow, that he lost his reason, and died soon after, on 28 Jan., 1842.

Here is another little story of the behaviour of gentlemen in those days, copied from theTimes, 11 June:

“Windsor, 10 June. Yesterday evening there was a large party consisting of the officers of the 60th Rifles, and several of the 1st Life Guards, at the mess of the infantry barracks, in Sheet Street, in consequence of several promotions which have recently taken place in the Rifles, occasioned by vacancies caused by the decease of the Hon. Col. Molyneux. The festivities of the evening were kept up till past 12 o’clock, when a large party sallied forth for ‘a spree.’ They first proceeded to the extensive canvas amphitheatre of Mr. Van Amburgh, in the Bachelor’s Acre, but, there, they were, fortunately, kept at bay by several of Mr. Van Amburgh’s men, before they had committed any excesses. The knockers, bell handles and brass plates from several doors in the neighbourhood were then wrenched off, and the whole party then made for a well-known gambling house (which has been tolerated in this town for upwards of twelve months), at No. 4, Augusta Place, where they were immediately admitted. What took place there before the row commenced, or what was the occasion of the havoc and destruction which almost immediately afterwards ensued, I have not been able to ascertain. However, they had not been there more than half an hour before there was a scene of the greatest confusion throughout the whole house, causing alarm and terror, from the noise which was created, around the entire neighbourhood. The police were sent for soon after 1 o’clock, previously to which a portion of the 60th Rifles, who were on guard at the Castle, had been despatched to the scene of action, and whom the police met on their return to the guard room. Upon the Superintendent, Sergeant and several policemen entering the house (which they found empty, with the exception of one of the gamblers, who, it appeared, had secreted himself) they found scarcely one piece of furniture left whole. The green baize was torn from the billiard and other tables, the doors of the different rooms broken down, the windows, with the sashes and frames, broken to pieces; all the lamps smashed, chairs and tables dislocated, the fanlight over the front door gone, and the balustrades upon the stairs torn away. At this time, the whole of the party hadgone off; and, as for the proprietors of the gaming house, they were glad to effect their escape, across the garden, into a large piece of waste land, called the Lammas. It was expected that some complaint would have been lodged before the borough magistrates, to-day, at the Town Hall; but no application was made to the Bench on the subject during the hours of business. A large brass plate, which had been wrenched from a garden gate, was found, this morning, by the police, in the infantry barracks, where there are sundry knockers and bell handles awaiting to be identified and returned to their respective owners.”[163]

The following incident is very little known, and is copied from theSalopian Journalof 3 July: “It is known to many of our readers that the Whig-Radical faction in Shrewsbury, despairing (as the event has proved) of winning the election by fair and honest means, have resorted to the infamous trick of publishing anonymous slanders against Mr. Disraeli, one of the Tory Candidates. He rebutted the slanders so promptly and effectually, that, at last, the opposite party resolved to try the desperate expedient of publishing them with a name attached, as a sort of guarantee. Accordingly, a letter, repeating these slanders, “with additions,” appeared in theShrewsbury Chronicleon Friday, signed by a barrister, who had been employed by the Radical candidates to manage their part of the contest. Mr. Disraeli, without any loss of time, issued a handbill commenting on conduct which appears to us at once ungentlemanly and unprofessional, and plainly designated the barrister’s statements as ‘utterly false.’ This handbill appeared early in the forenoon of Friday, and, at an advanced hour of the afternoon, a gentleman waited upon Mr. Disraeli with a hostile message from his calumniator. He found Mr. Disraeli in company with his lady, and communicated that he had business ofimportance to settle with him. A challenge from the barrister was then handed to Mr. Disraeli. About an hour afterwards, Mr. Jonathan Sheppard having learnt that such a transaction had taken place—and it is certain that the information had not come from the challenged party—waited upon the Mayor, and, upon his information, our worthy Chief Magistrate called upon both parties to enter into recognizances to keep the peace. How far Mr. Disraeli would have been justified in meeting a person who had acted as the barrister had acted, is a question which need not be discussed here.”

Story of an Irish informer—Steam Cars—Sale of Vauxhall Gardens—First Jewish Baronet—New Railways opened—High tide—Fire at the Tower—Birth of Prince of Wales—His patent as such—The Thames at length tunnelled—Antiquities found in Royal Exchange.

We have known something about Irish crime, but the following true tale takes a lot of beating. On the last day of the Clonmel Assizes, in July, Judge Torrens heard a case of arson, in which the prisoners, who were four in number, were all acquitted, after a trial which lasted eight hours.

The principal witness for the prosecution was an approver, named Lysaght; and, in all the annals of informers, it would be extremely difficult to find a parallel to this same Lysaght. Indeed, the admission by the Crown of the testimony of such a miscreant, in the matter of life or death, appears to be highly reprehensible, as the following abstract of his evidence will plainly evince:

John Lysaght examined: I remember the time when Walsh’s house was burnt. Anthony Ryan came to me before the house was burned to borrow a gun. I brought it to him on a Monday night, and he told me to come with him to McCarthy’s house, who wanted to see me. I went to McCarthy’s, and near his place was an old house, in which some of our party were assembled. McCarthy brought some bread and spirits, and we took share of it. McCarthy asked me if I would go with the men to frighten Walsh, and burn the house. I promised to do so, and he then furnished us with powder and ball; we went down to the river side, and McCarthy gave his pistols and 7/6 in money to AnthonyRyan. He gave me some powder, flax, and something like saltpetre, and showed me, by putting some powder into the pan, and snapping it, how the flax was to be lighted. McCarthy then parted with us, and we, after eating the bread and meat, went to Walsh’s. I lighted the tow, and Paddy Ryan put the fire into the roof. I and two of the party then went and stood sentry near the road. After a time, I heard a noise, and ran back to give an alarm. We then left, and went by Toom homewards, and separated near Marshall’s gate; this was about three or four in the morning. I and Paddy Ryan had shot guns, Ned Ryan had a long one, Darby Ryan a bayonet on a pole, and the two Ryans had McCarthy’s pistols. We left the house after it was in flames. I knew a man named Bryan Noonan; he is dead.Judge Torrens: Was it you murdered Noonan?Witness: No. I joined in it.Mr. Hatchell: How many men did you murder before this?Witness: None.You say it was Anthony Ryan went to you to get the gun?—It was.He has, since, been transported?—Yes.You went with the party to the burning for the love of amusement?—They induced me to go with them, but did not force me; I was not very unwilling to go after getting the liquor; but, when I brought the gun, had no such intention.Did you load the gun before you went out?—I did.Had you liberty to carry a gun?—Yes, from a magistrate, Mr. Coates, who is since dead.Were you ever tried before you committed the murder on Noonan?—Indeed I was; I was tried before, for posting a threatening notice, but it was no such thing.Were you not sentenced to be transported?—I was.Did you not fire shots at the same time?—Yes.Judge Torrens: And the reward you gave the Government for bringing you back was murdering NoonanMr. Hatchell: Was not your brother Caravat tried?—Yes.You say you were only present at the murder of Noonan; now, was it not you who knocked down the unfortunate manwith the butt-end of a blunderbuss?—Yes, the very first. (Sensation.)And you don’t call that murdering the man?—We were all murdering him.Were you not one of the men who carried him into the ditch to hide the body?—I was.Where is your brother, the Caravat?—I don’t know.Was he at the burning of Walsh’s house?—No.Did you know Leonard, the smith?—I did.Did you see him killed?—I saw him struck, but was not looking on at his killing.Did you give him a blow then?—I did not strike a blow at the man.Did you give a blow that day?—Yes, when myself was struck.Do you remember Wat Hayes?—Yes.You attacked him, but he shot you off?—No, he did not.Was not one of your companions shot by Mr. Hayes?—No, but a man near me.Now, tell me, did he not kill one of your friends?—Oh, he had a party against us, and waylaid us.Did you remember Jemmy Hughes, who was killed with a hatchet?—I did.Were you not looking at his murder?—Oh, no; he was married to my first cousin.Were you not taxed with the murder?—The whole country knew who was in that affair.You recollect David Hickey, who was killed at Bilboa?—I was in the fair.You were of the party?—I was looking at him.That was your third murder.A Juror: His fifth murder.Did you rob Michael Rogers?—No, but I got the course of law, and was acquitted.You knew Mick Griffin, Lord Stradbroke’s herd?—I heard he was shot.Was your brother Caravat accused of this business?—No, I never heard of it.Did you not say you would put a rope about McCarthy’s neck?—I did not. I remember when Kennedy was put out of possession. McCarthy’s cattle and premises were burned after this, but the country say it was himself did it. I never asked a farm of Lord Stradbroke, but my father or brothers might. I never heard that McCarthy prevented us getting the farm, on the ground of our being so bad.Do you remember you and your uncle carrying away a woman?—I do.Your uncle was transported?—He was.So you have been guilty of one abduction, five murders, and one burning; what else did you do? Would you suggest any other crime in the catalogue, of which you were not guilty?Judge Torrens: Did you commit a rape?—No.Mr. Hatchell: Were any of your brothers convicted of a rape?—Yes.Were you not charged with holding the unfortunate woman while your brother committed the rape?—No, but another brother was.Judge Torrens: Did you steal cattle?—No.Mr. Hatchell: That would be too shabby an offence. When you came to Walsh’s house, you lifted one of the Ryans up in the roof?—Yes.And you lit the fire?—I did.Did you know there were women in the house?—I partly guessed there were.Did you mind how many innocent people might have been burned?—I did not care. (Great sensation.)Judge and Counsel, with great disgust, ordered the wretch off the table.

Judge Torrens: Was it you murdered Noonan?

Witness: No. I joined in it.

Mr. Hatchell: How many men did you murder before this?

Witness: None.

You say it was Anthony Ryan went to you to get the gun?—It was.

He has, since, been transported?—Yes.

You went with the party to the burning for the love of amusement?—They induced me to go with them, but did not force me; I was not very unwilling to go after getting the liquor; but, when I brought the gun, had no such intention.

Did you load the gun before you went out?—I did.

Had you liberty to carry a gun?—Yes, from a magistrate, Mr. Coates, who is since dead.

Were you ever tried before you committed the murder on Noonan?—Indeed I was; I was tried before, for posting a threatening notice, but it was no such thing.

Were you not sentenced to be transported?—I was.

Did you not fire shots at the same time?—Yes.

Judge Torrens: And the reward you gave the Government for bringing you back was murdering Noonan

Mr. Hatchell: Was not your brother Caravat tried?—Yes.

You say you were only present at the murder of Noonan; now, was it not you who knocked down the unfortunate manwith the butt-end of a blunderbuss?—Yes, the very first. (Sensation.)

And you don’t call that murdering the man?—We were all murdering him.

Were you not one of the men who carried him into the ditch to hide the body?—I was.

Where is your brother, the Caravat?—I don’t know.

Was he at the burning of Walsh’s house?—No.

Did you know Leonard, the smith?—I did.

Did you see him killed?—I saw him struck, but was not looking on at his killing.

Did you give him a blow then?—I did not strike a blow at the man.

Did you give a blow that day?—Yes, when myself was struck.

Do you remember Wat Hayes?—Yes.

You attacked him, but he shot you off?—No, he did not.

Was not one of your companions shot by Mr. Hayes?—No, but a man near me.

Now, tell me, did he not kill one of your friends?—Oh, he had a party against us, and waylaid us.

Did you remember Jemmy Hughes, who was killed with a hatchet?—I did.

Were you not looking at his murder?—Oh, no; he was married to my first cousin.

Were you not taxed with the murder?—The whole country knew who was in that affair.

You recollect David Hickey, who was killed at Bilboa?—I was in the fair.

You were of the party?—I was looking at him.

That was your third murder.

A Juror: His fifth murder.

Did you rob Michael Rogers?—No, but I got the course of law, and was acquitted.

You knew Mick Griffin, Lord Stradbroke’s herd?—I heard he was shot.

Was your brother Caravat accused of this business?—No, I never heard of it.

Did you not say you would put a rope about McCarthy’s neck?—I did not. I remember when Kennedy was put out of possession. McCarthy’s cattle and premises were burned after this, but the country say it was himself did it. I never asked a farm of Lord Stradbroke, but my father or brothers might. I never heard that McCarthy prevented us getting the farm, on the ground of our being so bad.

Do you remember you and your uncle carrying away a woman?—I do.

Your uncle was transported?—He was.

So you have been guilty of one abduction, five murders, and one burning; what else did you do? Would you suggest any other crime in the catalogue, of which you were not guilty?

Judge Torrens: Did you commit a rape?—No.

Mr. Hatchell: Were any of your brothers convicted of a rape?—Yes.

Were you not charged with holding the unfortunate woman while your brother committed the rape?—No, but another brother was.

Judge Torrens: Did you steal cattle?—No.

Mr. Hatchell: That would be too shabby an offence. When you came to Walsh’s house, you lifted one of the Ryans up in the roof?—Yes.

And you lit the fire?—I did.

Did you know there were women in the house?—I partly guessed there were.

Did you mind how many innocent people might have been burned?—I did not care. (Great sensation.)

Judge and Counsel, with great disgust, ordered the wretch off the table.

In these days of Motor Cars, any gossip about their progenitors must be of interest. On 7 Aug., a steam carriage, carrying 16 persons, belonging to the General Steam Company, was tried between the York and Albany, Regent’s Park, and the Manor House at Tottenham—i.e., along the Camden Road to Finsbury Park—doing the distance in ratherless than half-an-hour. Another ran on 13 Sep. from Deptford to Sevenoaks, about 21 miles, in 2 hours 37 minutes, but there were small accidents by the way. Later on in the month the first-named carriage performed about Windsor, Frogmore and Dachet, and frequently reached a speed of 18 to 20 miles an hour; and on Oct. 1 it was shown to the Queen and Prince Albert, the latter expressing himself highly pleased with it. It then only did 16 miles an hour.

On 9 Sep. Vauxhall Gardens, which had been a place of amusement since the time of Charles I., were sold for £20,000. InPunchof 14 Aug. we find a sad account of a last visit:

“Impelled by a sense of duty, we wended our way to the ‘Royal property,’[169a]to take a last look at the long expiring gardens. It was a wet night—the lamps burnt dimly—the military band played in the minor key—the waiters stalked about with so silent, melancholy a tread, that we took their towels for pocket handkerchiefs; the concert in the openrainwent off tamely—dirge-like, in spite of the ‘Siege of Acre,’ which was described in a set of quadrilles, embellished with blue fire and maroons, and adorned with a dozen double drums, thumped at intervals, like death notes, in various parts of the doomed gardens. Thedivertissementwas anything but diverting, when we reflected upon the impending fate of the ‘Rotunda,’ in which it was performed.“No such damp was, however, thrown over the evolutions of ‘Ducrow’s beautiful horses and equestrianartistes,’ including the ‘new grandentréeand calvacade of Amazons.’ They had no sympathy with the decline and fall of theSimpsonian[169b]empire. They were strangers, interlopers, called in, like mutes and feathers, to grace the ‘funeral show,’ to give a more graceful flourish to the final exit. The horses pawed the sawdust, evidently unconscious that the earth it covered would soon be ‘let on lease for building ground’; the riders seemed in the hey-day of their equestrian triumph. Let them, however,derive from the fate of Vauxhall a deep, a fearful lesson!—though we shudder as we write, it shall not be said that destruction came upon them unawares—that no warning voice had been raised—that even the squeak ofPunchwas silent! Let them not sneer, and call us superstitious—we donotgive credence to supernatural agency as a fixed and general principle; but we did believe in Simpson, and stake our professional reputation upon Widdicomb![170a]“That Vauxhall Gardens were under the special protection of, that they drew the very breath of their attractiveness from, the ceremonial Simpson, who can deny? When he flitted from walk to walk, from box to box, and welcomed everybody to the ‘Royal property,’ right royally did things go on! Who wouldthenhave dreamt that the illustrious George[170b]—he of the Piazza—would ever be ‘honoured with instructions to sell’? that his eulogistic pen would be employed in giving the puff superlative to the Elysian haunts of quondam fashion—in other words—painting the lily-gilding refined gold? But, alas! Simpson, the tutelar deity, departed (‘died,’ some say, but we don’t believe it), and, at the moment he made his last bow, Vauxhall ought to have been closed; it was madness—the madness which will call us, peradventure, superstitious—which kept the gates open when Simpson’s career closed—it was an anomaly, for, like Love and Heaven, Simpson was Vauxhall, and Vauxhall was Simpson!“Let Ducrow reflect upon these things—we dare not speak out—but a tutelar being watches over, and giveth vitality to his arena—his ring is, he may rely upon it, a fairy one—whilethatmysterious being dances and prances in it, all will go well; his horses will not stumble, never will his clowns forget a syllable of their antiquated jokes. Oh! let him, then, whilst seriously reflecting upon Simpson and the fate of Vauxhall, give good heed unto the Methuselah, who hath already passed his second centenary in the circle!“These were our awful reflections while viewing thescenes in the circle, very properly constructed in the Rotunda. They overpowered us—we dared not stay to see the fireworks, ‘in the midst of which Signora Rossini was to make her terrific ascent and descent on a rope three hundred feet high.’ Shemighthave been the sprite of Madame Saqui;[171]in fact, the ‘Vauxhall Papers,’ published in the gardens, put forth a legend which favours such a dreadful supposition. We refer our readers to them—they are only sixpence apiece.“Of course, the gardens were full, in spite of the weather; for what must be the callousness of that man who could lettheGardens pass under the hammer of George Robins, without bidding them an affectionate farewell? Good gracious! we can hardly believe such insensibility does exist. Hasten then, dear readers, as you would fly to catch the expiring sigh of a fine old boon companion—hasten to take your parting slice of ham, your last bowl of arrack—even now, while the great auctioneer says ‘going.’”

“No such damp was, however, thrown over the evolutions of ‘Ducrow’s beautiful horses and equestrianartistes,’ including the ‘new grandentréeand calvacade of Amazons.’ They had no sympathy with the decline and fall of theSimpsonian[169b]empire. They were strangers, interlopers, called in, like mutes and feathers, to grace the ‘funeral show,’ to give a more graceful flourish to the final exit. The horses pawed the sawdust, evidently unconscious that the earth it covered would soon be ‘let on lease for building ground’; the riders seemed in the hey-day of their equestrian triumph. Let them, however,derive from the fate of Vauxhall a deep, a fearful lesson!—though we shudder as we write, it shall not be said that destruction came upon them unawares—that no warning voice had been raised—that even the squeak ofPunchwas silent! Let them not sneer, and call us superstitious—we donotgive credence to supernatural agency as a fixed and general principle; but we did believe in Simpson, and stake our professional reputation upon Widdicomb![170a]

“That Vauxhall Gardens were under the special protection of, that they drew the very breath of their attractiveness from, the ceremonial Simpson, who can deny? When he flitted from walk to walk, from box to box, and welcomed everybody to the ‘Royal property,’ right royally did things go on! Who wouldthenhave dreamt that the illustrious George[170b]—he of the Piazza—would ever be ‘honoured with instructions to sell’? that his eulogistic pen would be employed in giving the puff superlative to the Elysian haunts of quondam fashion—in other words—painting the lily-gilding refined gold? But, alas! Simpson, the tutelar deity, departed (‘died,’ some say, but we don’t believe it), and, at the moment he made his last bow, Vauxhall ought to have been closed; it was madness—the madness which will call us, peradventure, superstitious—which kept the gates open when Simpson’s career closed—it was an anomaly, for, like Love and Heaven, Simpson was Vauxhall, and Vauxhall was Simpson!

“Let Ducrow reflect upon these things—we dare not speak out—but a tutelar being watches over, and giveth vitality to his arena—his ring is, he may rely upon it, a fairy one—whilethatmysterious being dances and prances in it, all will go well; his horses will not stumble, never will his clowns forget a syllable of their antiquated jokes. Oh! let him, then, whilst seriously reflecting upon Simpson and the fate of Vauxhall, give good heed unto the Methuselah, who hath already passed his second centenary in the circle!

“These were our awful reflections while viewing thescenes in the circle, very properly constructed in the Rotunda. They overpowered us—we dared not stay to see the fireworks, ‘in the midst of which Signora Rossini was to make her terrific ascent and descent on a rope three hundred feet high.’ Shemighthave been the sprite of Madame Saqui;[171]in fact, the ‘Vauxhall Papers,’ published in the gardens, put forth a legend which favours such a dreadful supposition. We refer our readers to them—they are only sixpence apiece.

“Of course, the gardens were full, in spite of the weather; for what must be the callousness of that man who could lettheGardens pass under the hammer of George Robins, without bidding them an affectionate farewell? Good gracious! we can hardly believe such insensibility does exist. Hasten then, dear readers, as you would fly to catch the expiring sigh of a fine old boon companion—hasten to take your parting slice of ham, your last bowl of arrack—even now, while the great auctioneer says ‘going.’”

On 24 August Sir J. L. Goldsmid was made a Baronet, and was the first Jewish gentleman who ever received that title. Perhaps it is not generally known that an honour, not much inferior, had, once, very nearly fallen to the lot of a brother Israelite. At one of those festive meetings at Carlton House, in which George IV. sometimes allowed a few of his most favoured subjects to participate, Mr. Braham was introduced to sing his then newly-composed song, “A Bumper of Burgundy,” when the gratified monarch, rising from his chair, was, with difficulty, restrained from conferring immediate knighthood on the flattered musician.

Three well-known railways were opened this year; the Great Western, from London to Bristol, on 30 June; the London and Blackwall, on 2 Aug.; and the London and Brighton, on 21 Sep.

On 18 Oct. was a remarkably high tide in the Thames, which did an immense amount of damage. This, and another event were celebrated in a contemporary ballad, beginning:

“There’s lately been a great high tide,Nor can it be surprising,When everything is getting dear,That water should be rising,”

and after dealing with that event in a very witty manner, it went on:

“The Tower of London, envyingFather Thames’s notoriety,Resolved to have a ‘flare up’And be talked of in society;Ten thousand guns were fired at once,With very few escapers,But, though no one heard the great report,There was one in the papers.”

This terrible conflagration was first noticed about half-past ten, on the night of 31 Oct., by a sentinel on duty on the terrace near the Jewel Office, whose attention was attracted to a glimmering light under the cupola of the Round, or Bowyer Tower—which was close to the Armoury, in which was deposited an immense amount of stores, such as muskets, etc., and many priceless trophies of war. When the sentinel found the light increased, he gave the alarm by firing his musket, and the whole of the garrison, officers and men, turned out; but the fire had got so great a hold that, before a sufficient supply of water could be obtained, the entire roof of the Armoury was in flames.

Unfortunately, it was low tide in the Thames, and, although the fire-engines soon arrived, and there were the Garrison and 250 policemen to render assistance, the flames spread rapidly; so fast, indeed, that the only things then got out and saved, were the Duke of York’s sword and belt, and a beautiful Maltese gun.

The grand staircase of this Armoury was considered one of the finest in Europe, and the following is a contemporary description of it. “In a recess on the landing was a platform supported on eight brass six-pounder guns, taken at Waterloo, and which served as pillars. On this was a splendid trophy,consisting of arms and weapons, ancient and modern, comprising nearly 200 varieties, and nearly all differing in form or pattern. In the centre was a marble bust of William IV. Upon the walls, at the sides, were two large stars, formed of swords, and their brass scabbards, bayonets and pistols, one representing the Star of the Garter, and the other of the Bath. Also two figures in gilt suits of armour on ornamented pedestals. The rails of the stairs and the cornice of the ceiling were ornamented with architectural figures, curiously formed with arms. Below, upon pedestals, were two very striking groups, one representing a knight in gilt armour, preparing for action, attended by his esquire, who was in the act of buckling on his spurs, and a pikeman, with his 18 feet pike. The other group was a knight in a handsome suit of bright armour, of the time of Elizabeth, in action, having seized a banner from the enemy, waving his followers on. On each side of the entrance door was a knight in a suit of gilt armour, and two others, similarly clad, stood on brackets. The whole of these were destroyed, with the exception of the Waterloo cannon.”

The fire was soon perilously near to the Jewel Office, which was scorching hot—yet Mr. Swifte, the keeper of the jewels, saved the whole of the Regalia, down to the minutest article, and was earnestly begged to retire and leave the last thing, a huge silver wine fountain, to its fate, but he would not, and this, also, was salved.

“Then Mr. Swifte was nothing slowThe Crown and Jewels saving;And to get the great Wine Cooler out,Great danger he was braving.Now, Mr. Swifte, of all the wine,Should now be made the ruler,For while the fire was getting hotter,He was gettingthe Wine Cooler.”

There was an awful scare as to the chance of the store of gunpowder catching alight—but 400 barrels of powder, and 200 boxes of grenades and ball cartridges, were removed to the magazine, and the remainder was thrown into the moat.

On the 8th Dec. the general public were allowed to inspect the ruins, and to purchase mementos of the fire; the prices were, 6d. for half-a-dozen gun-flints, and the same amount for a few burnt percussion caps; pieces of fused iron and arms went at prices varying from 1s. to 20s., the latter, the maximum price. For many years I had a fused cavalry pistol, and some calcined flints which were very pretty. The fused cannon were sold as old metal.

On the 9 Nov. His Majesty Edward VII. was born, and, on the 8th Dec. was created Prince of Wales. His patent is as follows:

“Victoria, by the grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Queen, Defender of the Faith.“To all Archbishops, Dukes, Earls, Viscounts, Bishops, Barons, Baronets, Knights, Justices, Provosts, Ministers, and all other our faithful subjects, greeting—“Know ye, that we have made and created, and by these our letters patent, do make and create, our most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland (Duke of Saxony, Duke of Cornwall and Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, Baron Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, and Great Steward of Scotland), Prince of Wales and Earl of Chester; and to the same, our most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, have given and granted, and by this our present Charter do give, grant and confirm, the name, style, title, dignity and honour of the same Principality and Earldom, and him, our said most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, as has been accustomed, we do ennoble and invest with the said Principality and Earldom, by girting him with a sword, by putting a coronet on his head, and a gold ring on his finger, and, also, by delivering a gold rod into his hand, that he may preside there, and may direct and defend those parts. To hold to him and his Heirs, Kings of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, for ever, wherefore we will, and strictly command for us, our heirs, and successors, that our said most dear Son, the Prince of the UnitedKingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, may have the name, style, title, state, dignity, and honour of the Principality of Wales, and Earldom of Chester aforesaid, unto him and his heirs, Kings of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, as is above mentioned.“In witness whereof, we have caused these, our letters, to be made patent. Witness ourself at Westminster, this 8th day of December, 1841.By theQueenherself.“Edmunds.”

“Victoria, by the grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Queen, Defender of the Faith.

“To all Archbishops, Dukes, Earls, Viscounts, Bishops, Barons, Baronets, Knights, Justices, Provosts, Ministers, and all other our faithful subjects, greeting—

“Know ye, that we have made and created, and by these our letters patent, do make and create, our most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland (Duke of Saxony, Duke of Cornwall and Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, Baron Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, and Great Steward of Scotland), Prince of Wales and Earl of Chester; and to the same, our most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, have given and granted, and by this our present Charter do give, grant and confirm, the name, style, title, dignity and honour of the same Principality and Earldom, and him, our said most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, as has been accustomed, we do ennoble and invest with the said Principality and Earldom, by girting him with a sword, by putting a coronet on his head, and a gold ring on his finger, and, also, by delivering a gold rod into his hand, that he may preside there, and may direct and defend those parts. To hold to him and his Heirs, Kings of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, for ever, wherefore we will, and strictly command for us, our heirs, and successors, that our said most dear Son, the Prince of the UnitedKingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, may have the name, style, title, state, dignity, and honour of the Principality of Wales, and Earldom of Chester aforesaid, unto him and his heirs, Kings of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, as is above mentioned.

“In witness whereof, we have caused these, our letters, to be made patent. Witness ourself at Westminster, this 8th day of December, 1841.

By theQueenherself.“Edmunds.”

We read in theTimesof 25 Nov., anent the Thames Tunnel, that “a thoroughfare was, yesterday, effected in this work, and made use of, for the first time, by the whole of the directors, and some of the original subscribers, who had assembled upon the occasion. The shield having been advanced to the shaft at Wapping, a considerable opening was cut in the brickwork, and it was through this the party, who had met at Rotherhithe, were enabled to pass, thus opening the first subterranean communication between the opposite shores of the river. Upon their arrival at the shaft, the party was greeted by the workmen with most hearty cheers. A curious and interesting incident was connected with the event; a few bottles of wine, preserved since the dinner given on the occasion when the foundation stone was laid, with the understanding that it was to be drunk only when it could be carried under the Thames, having been opened and enjoyed by the company, to the health of Her Majesty and the infant Prince. It was remarked, too, as a singular coincidence, that a seal on one of the corks bore the impress of the Prince of Wales’s feathers, a circumstance that caused some merriment. The engineer, Sir I. Brunel, appeared highly gratified at the happy result of his past anxiety and arduous labour. The shield will continue its advance, until it has afforded space for the formation of the remainder of the tunnel, which is expected to be completed in about three weeks.”

By the end of the year the foundations of the New RoyalExchange were dug out and concreted, and, as it was always anticipated that some important discoveries might take place in the course of the excavation, proper arrangements were made on the commencement of the work, that any articles of interest which might be disinterred, should be secured for the Gresham Committee. In the Specification for the Works, issued in 1840, the Contractor and Excavator were required, in taking out the soil, to deliver up “any plate, coins, antiquities, or curiosities, whether in metal, or otherwise, or any carved stones, or carvings in marble, pottery, terra cotta, or tesseræ, which may be found in the course of the excavations; it being understood that all such matters, or things, are to be taken up with all requisite care, and are to remain the property of the Gresham Committee.”

They found a portion of a Roman building, but the greatest haul was in an old gravel pit, some 50ft. by 34, filled with hardened mud, in which were contained considerable quantities of animal and vegetable remains, apparently the discarded refuse of the inhabitants of the vicinity. In the same depository were also found very numerous fragments of the red Roman pottery, usually called “Samian Ware,” pieces of glass vessels, broken terra-cotta lamps, parts of amphoræ, mortaria, and other articles made of earth, and all the rubbish which might naturally become accumulated in a pond in the course of years. In this mass likewise occurred a number of Imperial Roman coins, several bronze and iron styles, parts of writing tablets, a bather’s strigil, a large quantity of caliga soles, sandals and remains of leather, all of which can now be seen in the highly interesting Museum of the Corporation of the City of London, at the Guildhall.

Foundation of Royal Exchange laid—Medal connected therewith—Father Mathew’s miracle—Christening of the Prince of Wales—King Edward VII.—Hard work of the King of Prussia—The Earthquake in London—The Queen drinking “grog”—Photography-Talbotype—Sale at Strawberry Hill—Presents to the King of Prussia.

The first event of note in this year was the laying, by Prince Albert, of the foundation stone of the Royal Exchange, on 17 Jan., with all the pomp at the command of the City authorities. The usual coins, etc., were deposited in a cavity, together with a Latin inscription, engraved on zinc, of which the following is a translation: “Sir Thomas Gresham, Knight, erected, at his own charge, a building and colonnade for the convenience of those persons who, in this renowned Mart, might carry on the commerce of the World, adding thereto, for the relief of indigence, and for the advancement of literature and science, an Almshouse and College of Lecturers, the City of London aiding him, Queen Elizabeth favouring the design; and, when the work was complete, opening it in person with a solemn procession. Having been reduced to ashes with almost the entire city, by a calamitous and wide spreading conflagration, they were rebuilt in a more splendid form by the City of London and the Ancient Company of Mercers, King Charles II. commencing the building on 23 Oct., A.D. 1667; and, when they had been again destroyed by fire, on the 10th Jan., AD. 1838, the same Bodies, undertaking the work, determined to restore them at their own cost, on an enlarged and more ornamental plan; the munificence of Parliament providing the means of extending the site, and of widening the approaches and crooked streets, in every direction; in order that there might, at length, arise,under the auspices of Queen Victoria, built a third time from the ground, an Exchange, worthy of this great Nation and City, and suited to the vastness of a Commerce extending to the circumference of the habitable Globe. His Royal Highness of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Consort of Her Sacred Majesty, laid the first stone on 17 Jan., 1842, in the Mayoralty of the Rt. Hon. John Pirie. Architect, William Tite, F.R.S. May God, our Preserver, ward off destruction from this building, and from the whole City.”

After the manner of the City of London, a medal was struck to commemorate the event, having on the obverse a profile portrait of Prince Albert, with the legend “Albertus ubique honoratus,” the reverse having a view of the western portico of the Exchange. On 13 Jan. Mr. Roach Smith exhibited at the Society of Antiquaries a medalet, found on the site of the Exchange, evidently struck to commemorate Queen Elizabeth’s patronage of the original building, as it bore the Tudor Arms surrounded with the inscription “Angliœ Regina ubique honorata.”

Father Mathew was still doing his grand work in Ireland, but there is a story told about him in theLimerick Chronicle, copied into theTimesof 17 Jan., that is too good to be omitted: “The Rev. Mr. Mathew arrived in this city, last evening, by the Cork mail,en routeto Loughrea, and put up at Moore’s hotel. Immediately after his arrival became known, hundreds of persons visited him at the hotel, where he administered the pledge. One circumstance which came within public observation, we may mention here, as illustrative of the effects of breaking the temperance pledge:—A man, named Moynehan, a teetotaller, who worked at the Butter Weigh-house, got drunk on Christmas Eve, and the next day, became paralysed, his left arm, side and thigh being perfectly inanimate. He was removed to Barrington’s Hospital, and remained there under the care of the surgeons, without improvement, until last evening, when his friends, having heard of Father Mathew’s arrival in town, went to the hospital, and brought him out of his bed, on a man’s back, to where the Rev. Mr. Mathew was staying; a crowd had collected roundthe door, when the unhappy invalid was carried into his presence, and the reverend gentleman administered to him the pledge again, in a kind and impressive manner, and the man instantly stood up, was assisted by his friends to dress; and, to the astonishment of all, walked up William Street to his home, followed by a crowd of people.”

On 25 Jan., the Prince of Wales was christened in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, by the name of Albert Edward, and on 20 Jan. appeared a letter in theTimesfrom “A Conservative”:

“Sir.—We learn from theTimesof to-day, that the Prince will be called Albert Edward.“It is natural, indeed, that the illustrious father, and still more, that the illustrious mother, should prefer Albert Edward to Edward Albert.“But as I pray God that the boy may live to be King, to whatever period his mother’s life may be graciously extended, so I trust that he may have every qualification for popularity as well as goodness, and, amongst others, an old, and beloved, and accustomedEnglish name.“And what so fit as Edward? Who more beloved, or glorious, than Edward the Confessor—Edward I.—Edward III.—Edward VI.? A Catholic Saint—a law-giver—a conqueror—a Protestant Reformer?“The Princess Alexandrina Victoria was known by her second name before she ascended the throne. So, I trust, may the young Prince be known as Edward, Prince of Wales, to the people, hereafter, Edward VII.”

“Sir.—We learn from theTimesof to-day, that the Prince will be called Albert Edward.

“It is natural, indeed, that the illustrious father, and still more, that the illustrious mother, should prefer Albert Edward to Edward Albert.

“But as I pray God that the boy may live to be King, to whatever period his mother’s life may be graciously extended, so I trust that he may have every qualification for popularity as well as goodness, and, amongst others, an old, and beloved, and accustomedEnglish name.

“And what so fit as Edward? Who more beloved, or glorious, than Edward the Confessor—Edward I.—Edward III.—Edward VI.? A Catholic Saint—a law-giver—a conqueror—a Protestant Reformer?

“The Princess Alexandrina Victoria was known by her second name before she ascended the throne. So, I trust, may the young Prince be known as Edward, Prince of Wales, to the people, hereafter, Edward VII.”

We all know how this gentleman’s aspirations have been verified.

The King of Prussia was one of the Sponsors, and spent a few days after the christening in England. Poor man! how they did make him work!

On the 26th he had to be at the presentation of new colours to the 72nd Highlanders, and, in the afternoon, he visited Eton College.

27th.—Came to London by railway, and held a Court at Buckingham Palace, where he received theCorps Diplomatiqueand the Corporation of the City of London. On his return to Windsor, he visited Hampton Court.

28th.—Again came to London, visited the Zoological Gardens, lunched with Sir Robert Peel, and, afterwards, went to the Chapel Royal, Whitehall, and the National Gallery—dining at Windsor.

29th.—Saw a review in the Home Park, then went to London, and dined with his Minister, Chevalier Bunsen, in Carlton Terrace.

The 30th was Sunday, so the poor man was trotted off to St. Paul’s Cathedral to hear the Bishop of London preach. Lunched at the Mansion House, visited the King of Hanover’s apartments in St. James’s Palace, and Stafford House; attended afternoon service at the Royal German Chapel, St. James’s; visited the Duchess of Gloucester, in Piccadilly, and returned to Windsor.

After this rest on the 30th, he visited Newgate Prison, when he was received by the Lady Mayoress, Mrs. Fry, the Quaker philanthropist, the Sheriffs, etc., and thence proceeded to lunch with Mrs. Fry, at Upton, near Barking; at six he went to Drury Lane Theatre, and sawThe Two Gentlemen of Verona; dined with the Duke of Sutherland at Stafford House, and slept at Buckingham Palace.

Next day, 1 Feb., at 10 a.m., he visited the Royal Society, Society of Antiquaries and the Geological Society. Thence he went to the British Museum, taking Mr. Solly’s collection of picturesen route; and after spending three hours at the Museum, he lunched with the Duke of Sussex at Kensington Palace. In the evening, he underwent a dinner and concert given by the Duke of Wellington at Apsley House.

Early in the morning of the 2nd, he sat to Mr. Hayter for his portrait in a picture of the Christening. At 8.30 he embarked at Hungerford Wharf, on a steamer, bound for the Thames Tunnel; after visiting which, he went to the Tower of London. At 12 he returned to Buckingham Palace, where he received addresses from the Bishop and Clergy of theDiocese of London; the members of King’s College, London; the Society for Promoting Christianity among the Jews; the Prussian subjects resident in London; and the German Lutheran clergy. He also received deputations from the Bible Society, the Church Missionary Society, the Imperial Continental Gas Company; and gave audience to the Prince of Capua, etc.; visited the Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth; dined with the Duke of Cambridge; saw theMerry Wives of Windsorplayed at Covent Garden, and afterwards attended an evening, party at Cambridge House.

On the 3rd he was present at the Queen’s Opening of Parliament, then received a deputation from the general body of Protestant Dissenters; and visited the Queen Dowager, Earl of Jersey, the Dowager Duchess of Richmond, the Duke of Cambridge and the Duke of Wellington; winding up with dining with the Queen.

On the 4th they let him go—he paid a visit to the Queen at 9.30, went to Woolwich and saw a review of Royal Artillery, lunched there, visited Plumstead Marshes and the Arsenal, took leave of Prince Albert, and everyone else, and went off to Ostend.

About this time was a curious craze, which took strange hold on the people, that London was to be destroyed on the 16th of March, a belief which seems to have been founded on two metrical prophecies, dated respectively A.D. 1203 and 1598, said to be in the British Museum, where, however, I have failed to find them; the former is:

“In eighteen hundred and forty-twoFour things the sun shall view;London’s rich and famous townHungry earth shall swallow down;Storm and rain in France shall be,Till every river runs a sea;Spain shall be rent in twain,And famine waste the land again;So say I, the Monk of Dree,In the twelve hundredth year and three.”

The other is fathered on the famous astrologer, Dr. Dee:

“The Lord have mercy on you all,Prepare yourselves for dreadful fallOf house and land and human soul—The measure of your sin is full.“In the year One, Eight, and Forty-two,Of the year that is so new,In the third month, of that sixteen,It may be a day or two between.“Perhaps you’ll soon be stiff and cold,Dear Christian, be not stout and bold;The mighty Kingly proud will seeThis comes to pass, as my name’s Dee.”

“The Lord have mercy on you all,Prepare yourselves for dreadful fallOf house and land and human soul—The measure of your sin is full.

“In the year One, Eight, and Forty-two,Of the year that is so new,In the third month, of that sixteen,It may be a day or two between.

“Perhaps you’ll soon be stiff and cold,Dear Christian, be not stout and bold;The mighty Kingly proud will seeThis comes to pass, as my name’s Dee.”

And people were found to believe in this doggerel—especially frightened were the Irish in London, and the lower classes generally. There was a great exodus of the former, some even listening to the entreaties of their friends, and returning to Ireland, and many of the latter moved eastward of the church of St. Dunstan’s, Stepney, which they considered would be the last edifice to fall. Nor was belief in the earthquake confined to the east end of London, for I read of a man, formerly a police constable, living in Paddington, St. Marylebone, who sold a good business to provide the means of his leaving London; and of a clerk, with a salary of £200 a year, residing in the same parish, resigning his post, so that he might escape the calamity.

The fateful day arrived and passed, and, of course, the dreaded event did not take place, but the belief in it is evidenced in a paragraph in theTimesof 17 March:

“The Earthquake.—The scene witnessed in the neighbourhoods of St. Giles’s and Seven Dials during the whole of yesterday was, perhaps, the most singular that has presented itself for many years. Many of the Irish resident in those localities have left for the shores of the Emerald Isle, but by far the larger number, unblessed with this world’s goods, have been compelled to remain where they are, and to anticipate the fearful event which was to engulf them inthe bowels of the earth. The frantic cries, the incessant appeals to Heaven for deliverance, the invocations to the Virgin and the Saints for mediation, the heartrending supplications for assistance, heard on every side during the day, sufficiently evidenced the power with which this popular delusion had seized the mind of these superstitious people. Towards the end of the day, a large number of them determined not to remain in London during the night, and, with what few things they possessed, took their departure for what they considered more favoured spots. Some violent contests arose between the believers and the sceptics—contests, which in not a few cases, were productive of serious results.“The poor Irish, however, are not the only persons who have been credulous in this matter; many persons from whom better things might have been expected, were amongst the number who left London to avoid the threatened catastrophe. To the Gravesend steamboat companies the ‘earthquake’ proved a source of immense gain; and the same may be said with regard to the different railways. Long before the hour appointed for the starting of steamboats from London Bridge Wharf, Hungerford Market, and other places, the shore was thronged by crowds of decently attired people of both sexes; and, in many instances, whole families were to be seen with an amount of eatables and drinkables which would have led one to suppose that they were going a six-weeks’ voyage. About 11 o’clock, thePlanetcame alongside the London Bridge Wharf, and the rush to get on board of her was tremendous, and, in a few minutes, there was scarcely standing room on board. The trains on the various railways were, during the whole of Tuesday and yesterday morning, unusually busy in conveying passengers without the proscribed limits of the Metropolitan disaster. To those who had not the means of taking trips to Gravesend, or by railway, other places which were supposed to be exempted from the influence of the ‘rude commotion’ about to take place, were resorted to. From an early hour in the morning, the humbler classes from the east end of the Metropolis sought refuge in the fields beyond the purlieus of Stepney. On the north, Hampsteadand Highgate were favoured with a visit from large bodies of the respectable inhabitants of St. Giles’s; and Primrose Hill, also, was selected as a famous spot for viewing the demolition of the leviathan city. The darkness of the day, and the thickness of the atmosphere, however, prevented it being seen.”

“The poor Irish, however, are not the only persons who have been credulous in this matter; many persons from whom better things might have been expected, were amongst the number who left London to avoid the threatened catastrophe. To the Gravesend steamboat companies the ‘earthquake’ proved a source of immense gain; and the same may be said with regard to the different railways. Long before the hour appointed for the starting of steamboats from London Bridge Wharf, Hungerford Market, and other places, the shore was thronged by crowds of decently attired people of both sexes; and, in many instances, whole families were to be seen with an amount of eatables and drinkables which would have led one to suppose that they were going a six-weeks’ voyage. About 11 o’clock, thePlanetcame alongside the London Bridge Wharf, and the rush to get on board of her was tremendous, and, in a few minutes, there was scarcely standing room on board. The trains on the various railways were, during the whole of Tuesday and yesterday morning, unusually busy in conveying passengers without the proscribed limits of the Metropolitan disaster. To those who had not the means of taking trips to Gravesend, or by railway, other places which were supposed to be exempted from the influence of the ‘rude commotion’ about to take place, were resorted to. From an early hour in the morning, the humbler classes from the east end of the Metropolis sought refuge in the fields beyond the purlieus of Stepney. On the north, Hampsteadand Highgate were favoured with a visit from large bodies of the respectable inhabitants of St. Giles’s; and Primrose Hill, also, was selected as a famous spot for viewing the demolition of the leviathan city. The darkness of the day, and the thickness of the atmosphere, however, prevented it being seen.”

Brighton, too, felt the advantage of the “earthquake,” as numbers of families of the middle and upper classes went there to avoid its consequences. It was noted that on the night of the 15th nearly 20 carriages arrived there, a circumstance that had not occurred since the opening of the London and Brighton Railway.

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