This was a proceeding by warrant upon a matter of assault and battery, alleged to have been perpetrated upon the person of a very nice young attorney, Mr. William Henry Squibb, by John Bloomer, a youthful and golden-haired grower of cauliflowers and capsicums, in a pleasant village on the banks of the Thames.
Mr. William Henry Squibb deposed, that on the 22nd of March, between the hours of eight and nine o'clock in the evening, he, the said William Henry, was passing through Leicester-square, in the parish of St. Anne, Soho, and in the county of Middlesex, in perfect good-humour with all men. That as he (the said William Henry) was so walking, in manner aforesaid, and having a new brown silk umbrella on his shoulder, firelockwise, he was aware of the defendant John Bloomer coming, in an opposite direction, in company with two feminine persons, commonly called, "ladies of easy virtue" by the polite—"blowens" by the vulgar—and "courtesans" by the classically fastidious—he, the said John, having one of the said courtesans on either arm, and thereby monopolising at least two-thirds of the pavement. That he, the said William Henry, without havingany or the slightest intention of offending the said John, regarded the aforesaid ladies of easy virtue with akind of smile; whereupon the said John, being of irascible and pugnacious temperament, did then and there tell the said William Henry that he resembled anindex post, with his umbrella over his shoulder, and that if he did not get out of his way, he would twist him up into a figure of 8! That the said William Henry, though he had no objection to be denominated anindex, simply, yet he could not bear to have the appellationpostapplied to him; especially when coupled with the threat of distorting his person so shockingly as to produce the figure of 8; and considering the aforesaid appellation and threat as calculated and intended to excite a breach of the peace, he did forthwith lay hands on the coat collar of the said John and call loudly for the watch, in order that the said John might be conveyed to durance as a daringly dangerously disorderly sort of personage; but that the said John, without waiting the arrival of the watchmen, did instantaneously let fly a right-handed, point-blank belly-go-fister into the bread-basket[11]of the said William Henry—thereby depriving him of his wind, andconvincing him that he had formed a right opinion of the dangerous qualities of the said John.
This was the substance of the evidence; and it farther appeared, by the conversations which ensued, that Mr. William Henry Squibb not only lost hiswind, but his umbrella also, by the violence of the stomachic concussion above mentioned; but that nevertheless a parley ensued, which ended in Mr. John Bloomer going voluntarily to the watch-house; there, the night constable refusing to interfere, cards of address were interchanged; that, on the following morning, and for several days thereafter, sundry Chalk Farm-ishmessages passed and repassed between the parties: that their gunpowder propensities, however, gradually and mutually evaporated; and, in conclusion, Mr. William Henry Squibb "determined to apply to the laws of his country, for redress."
Mr. John Bloomer began his defence by informing the magistrate, that it was an understood thing—a sort ofstreet etiquetteobserved by all well-bred people—that when one gentleman happened to be in company with ladies of a certain description, no other gentleman should at all interfere in the business; either by "casting tender regards" upon the said ladies, or otherwise. This general understanding the complainant had grosslyviolated, by looking very significantly towards the whole party; and he, therefore, very properly, as he thought, applied the term "index-post" to him and his shouldered umbrella; but complainant took the term so to heart that he seized him by the collar, and then he certainly did strike him something in the manner he had described; and he would do so again under similar circumstances, let the consequences be what they might. He would not be insulted, he said, by any man, or attorney either.
Mr. William Henry Squibb now drew forth a large bundle of letters (supposed to be the warlike epistles above-mentioned) and was preparing himself to go more fully into his case, when the magistrate desired him to reserve hisdocumentsfor the sessions, for he really had no more time towasteupon the matter; and having so said, he ordered the defendant to find bail.
In less than ten minutes, however, the parties again presented themselves before the bench, and said they had agreed to shake hands and say no more about it; upon which his worship observed, that he wished with all his heart they had thought of that mode of settling the matter an hour sooner.
Mr. Robert M'Gillies was brought before the magistrates to answer the complaint of Miss JuliaCob. Mr. Robert M'Gillies was a tall, stout, portly, middle-aged, Scottish gentleman; and Miss Julia Cob, a diminutive Hibernian young lady, in a richly braided dark blue habit, smart riding hat, long black veil, and red moroccoridicule.
Miss Julia Cob made a multitude of complaints, by which it appeared that whilst she was living, a gay and happy spinster, with her friends in Dublin, she was courted by Mr. Robert M'Gillies, whose card bore the initials "M. P." after his name: and she, conceiving that M. P. meant "Member of Parliament," lent a willing ear to his honied words. That she afterwards discovered his profession was the taking of likenesses, and that the M. P. meantMiniature-Painter. That notwithstanding the disappointment of this discovery, she continued her affections towards him, and eventually consented to come with him to England—not as his wife, but as his friendpro tempore; for she could not think of taking up with a miniature-painter for life. That they did come to England accordingly, and took up their rest in London;but from that period Mr. Robert M'Gillies became an altered man; he relinquished his M. P. profession, and lived entirely upon her means, spending almost his whole time in smoking and drinking, lying in bed with his clothes on, and amusing himself between whiles with tearing his and her garments in shreds and tatters. That at length her affection for him began to evaporate, and, being much impoverished by these vagaries of his, she determined "To whistle him off, and let him down the wind to prey on fortune," as Othello talked of doing by the gentle Desdemona. That in consequence of this determination she "got herself acquainted" with another lover—not a Scottish and sottishsoi-disantM. P., but a real, unadulterated, and genuine Irish Mem. Par.—one who had taken a house for her in Norfolk-street, Strand, furnished it fit for a princess to live in, and provided her with all things fitting for a lady in her situation. That Mr. Robert M'Gillies felt himself so dissatisfied at this new arrangement, that he forced his way into her new abode in Norfolk-street, turned her char-woman out of doors, broke her glasses, tore her clothes to ribbons, spat in her face seventeen times, and swore he loved her so that she should never live with any otherjontlemantill she wascompletelydead and done with.—Nay more—having done all this, he laid himself down on the best bed in the house, and, taking out his pipe, began smoking away as he used to do at home; though she told him her new lover "couldn't abide the smell ofbaccah."
MR. ROBERT M'GILLIES.
Under these circumstances, Miss Julia Cob begged the magistrates to interpose the strong arm of the law between her and Mr. Robert M'Gillies. He was a strong, powerful man, she said, and she verily believed he would never let her go to her grave alive—a figure of speech which she afterwards explained to mean—that she verily believed be intended to do her some grievous bodily harm—or, in other words, he intended to prevent her going to her grave in the natural way.
The officers who took Mr. Robert M'Gillies into custody, stated that they found him—though in the middle of the day—stretched out at full length in bed, with all his clothes on, except his coat, and smoking a long pipe; and on the chair by his bedside was a quantity of tobacco, and a large jorum of ale.
Mr. Robert M'Gillies, who had been with difficulty restrained while these statements were making, now entered upon his defence in form and manner following:—
"She is avillain, and will swear anything!" (Thumpingthe table and bursting into tears.) "But I don't blame her, I blame her evil advisers." (Another thump and more tears.) "She has been heard as a woman, and now let me be heard as a man!" (A louder voice, a heavier thump, and a greater flood of tears.) "I was a bright man before I knew her!—Her name is notJulia Cob. She has deceived many a man under the name of 'Julia Cob.' Her right name is Jane Spencer! and she knows it. I don't want to go near her, I tell you!" (A fresh supply of tears.) "I love her better than my own heart's blood; but I don't care—I won't be used in this manner—I'll be d——d if I will! Confound her and them altogether, I say! But I don't blame her—I blame the devils she has got about her. She said to me one day, says she, 'Come, M'Gillies,' says she, 'let you and I go down upon our bare knees and swear to be true to each other for ever and ever!' and now she uses me in this manner!—Oh! oh! oh!" (Lots of tears.) "What am I brought here for? What have I done? Answer me that!—Oh! oh! oh!" &c.
Mr. Robert M'Gillies filled up the pauses in this speech, by licking in with his tongue the tears, &c. which flowed plentifully through the stubble on his upper lip; and having made an end of speaking—
The magistrate told him he was a very foolish man, and Miss Julia Cob was not a bit better than she should be; nevertheless she must not be subjected to personal violence, and he therefore must put in bail to keep the peace towards her—himself in 50l.and two sureties in 25l.each.
It appeared, however, that his friends had previously been bound for him in a charge of assault upon the same lady, and the magistrate declaring their recognizances forfeited by this his subsequent violence, they declined coming forward again.
So Mr. Robert M'Gillies was consigned to his own lamentations in the dreary dungeons of Tothill-fields' Bridewell, and the false-heartedJulia Cobreturned to her new lover in Norfolk-street.
Miss Julia Johnson was charged by a watchman with infesting hisbatein a state ofbastelydrunkenness. "It was King-street, your honour, that same I'm now spaking about," thundered Phelim O'Donaghue, "and shewouldn'tcome out of it anyhow,becasethe beer had got the best of her, an' shecouldn't, your honour; an' so I gathered her up, with her silks an' satins, an' put 'em altogether in the watch-house, your honour."
"Did sheabuseyou?" asked his worship.
"Fait, an' she hadn'tsenseenough for that, your honour!" replied the strong-lunged Phelim.
Miss Julia's "silks and satins" gave manifest proof that she had not been able to keep her feet; and, as she had nothing but tears to offer in her defence, she was adjudged to be drunken and disorderly, and ordered to find sureties for her better behaviour in future.
A schoolmaster of Greenwich, an apothecary of Plymouth, and a London sheriff's-officer,—"three goodfellows and true," were brought before the bench, charged with having "shown off" a little too much in the pit of the Olympic Theatre.
Their situation in the office, when the magistrate took his seat on the bench, was thus:—The sheriff's-officer dead drunk on the floor of the outer passage; the apothecary dead drunk on the benches within the office; and the schoolmaster very drunk, but very sprightly withal, upon his legs before the magisterial table. Then as to their personal condition:—the sheriff's-officer had only half a coat—the entire sinister side having been torn away vertically; and he was moreover so grievously bedaubed with blood about the face, that his features were indistinguishable. The apothecary had his garments entire, but the exterior case of his olfactory apparatus was marvellously swollen and distorted—more like the budding proboscis of an infant elephant, than the nose of a Christian compounder of medicine. The schoolmaster's countenance was like that of his friend, the sheriff's-officer, excessively bloody; and his left eye was closed by a large blue and green tumour—from an orifice in the centre of which theclaretflowed continually towards the corner of his mouth, as if in mockery of the bumpers that had brought him before the bench.
As to their achievements, it appeared by the evidence of sundry theatrical prompters, scene-shifters, firemen, constables, and deputy-constables, that they entered the theatre arm in arm, with each a flaming cigar in his mouth. That they had no sooner got within the pit than they began to shout lustily for the music. That the music not answering to their shouts the schoolmaster rushed gallantly forward over the heads of the more un-Corinthian part of the audience—to the infinite detriment of sundry Leghorn and other bonnets—and clearing the barrier of the orchestra, at one audacious leap he dashed into the regions beneath the stage in search of the musicians. That he was thence expelled by the united efforts of supernumeraries attached to the concern; and that, as the said supernumeraries of the concern attempted to get him back over the barrier of the orchestra, the sheriff's-officer and the apothecary scrambled forward to his assistance, and prevented his being so put back with all their might. That a general fight ensued—that many people left the theatre in dismay—that others who were entering refused to complete theirentrée—that at length the riotoustriowere got over by dint of numbers—that they were carried to this office—and that the manager was positively determined to prosecute!
To all this the schoolmaster was the only one of the three who could say anything in reply; but then he was a host in himself. He, as in duty bound by the nature of his calling, was the "Logic" of the "spree;" but unfortunately his logical powers were mystified with old port and beating, and he could make little or nothing of it. He began his defence with three distinct emissions of the fumes of the old Port above-mentioned, and then told the magistrate how they were all three Devonshire men, and old friends, who had met for an evening's pleasure, after a long and tedious separation—how the apothecary had never been in London in all his life before, and had been let into a secret by that night's adventure—how he himself had taken his tea before he set out from Greenwich to meet the apothecary—how the apothecary dined, and how he did not—how they met with the sheriff's-officer—how they got drunk at the Shades at London Bridge, at the expense of the apothecary—how they got more drunk in Fleet-street, at the expense of himself (the schoolmaster)—and how they got drunk in the superlative degree, "somewhere hereabouts"—how somebody gave them orders for the Olympic—how they went there, and found the pit as silent as the grave—how they called for music, and no music came—how the schoolmaster dashedinto thecellarin search of thefiddlers, but couldn't find any—how the folks felt themselves offended at his interference—how a devil of a row ensued—how he might have escaped, but scorned to do so—how they were finally captured—and how they were vastly sorry for all of it.
Lots of conversation ensued upon these premises, and the manager, after two or three private conferences, declared himself satisfied, but the magistrate said he was not. "If poor men," said his worship, "were brought before me, charged with such mischievous absurdities, they would be inevitably sent to prison, unless they could find bail; and I will not suffer others to escape, because they may have certain means of satisfying those they injure."
So the schoolmaster and the sheriff's-officer were held to bail for their appearance at the sessions; and the apothecary was suffered to return to his disconsolate familyunscathed, because he had not been quite so obstreperous as his companions.
An elderly matron, one Mrs. Bridget Foggarty—the lady of an operative architect (vulgoa bricklayer) was charged with having wantonly assaulted a patrol, whilst in the execution of his duty.
It seems that a deceased lamplighter was interred, the evening before, in St. Pancras' burying ground, with much funeral pomp—there being more than two hundred of his brotherilluminatipresent, each bearing a flaming torch in celebration of his obsequies. This, it was said, is the universal mode of lighting a lamplighter to "that bourne from whence no traveller returns," and, of course, the spectacle attracted crowds of people. Wherever crowds of people are collected, there the patrol very properly repair, to prevent disorder: and the officer in question was there for that meritorious purpose, when Mrs. Bridget Foggarty abruptly gave him a slap on the cheek with her own right hand—that hand being all begrimed with tar, in consequence of her having held one of the half-melted funeral torches while the bearer of it took a little ofDeady'sconsolatory[12]on his way back from the mournful ceremonies.
This was the assault complained of; but the officer said he did not wish to be hard with Mrs. Foggarty; neither would he have taken her into custody, had not the surrounding multitude echoed the blow with such a shout of exultation as gave the lady a very evident intention of repeating it.
Mrs. Bridget Foggarty, when asked by the magistrate what she had to say for herself, wept audibly, and assured his worship that she took the gentleman for a friend of her husband's, or she never should have taken such a liberty as that 'ere. She declared that it was nottarupon her hand, butsoot—plain, ordinary soot, "off of a chimney-sweeper;" and, if his worship pleased, she would tell him all about it.
His worship did not object, and she proceeded to state that she had been to see her husband, then lying ill in the hospital; that on her return, she went to see the lamplighter's burying, and that the folks were all very merry, "and quitelarkishin a manner;" that being curious to see what sort of a coffin it was, sheskrougedherself through the mob till she reached the brink of the grave, and she had no sooner done so, than the mob pushed a chimney-sweeper into it, and pushed her atop of him; and that was the way her hands were blacked.
The magistrate told her he thought her visit to her sick husband should have disposed her more seriously, than to be mingling in such a disgraceful scene; and desired her to go home, and conduct herself more decently in future.
Mrs. Foggarty was very thankful for the lenity shown to her, and departed courtesying and drying her eyes.
Two gentlemen of pretty considerable respectability—one tall, and the other short—were charged with having assaulted the watch; and no fewer than five "ancient and quiet watchmen" appeared, to testify against them.
Dennis Mack was the first in order. He said he found the two gentlemen at the door of the oyster shop in New-street, Covent-garden, between one and two o'clock in the morning, kicking up a great row with a hackney-coach and two ladies. He told them to go home to bed, and not be making such a bother as all that, when the short one laid hold of his staff, and tried to twist it out of his hand, whereupon he sprung his rattle for assistance, &c.
Thomas Robinson was the next. He was a smart, upright,Corporal Trim-like sort of a watchman, and his discourse was somewhat "stuffed with epithets of war." He heard therattle-callof hiscomrade, andadvancedto hisrelief—he made hisapproacheswith caution in order toreconnoitrethe party—having so done, he challenged the offenders tosurrender, and received the point-blank charge of a fist in his belly—saving his worship's presence.
"What are you?" asked the magistrate, struck by the novelty of his phraseology.
"I have been a soldier, your honour," he replied; "but since I was discharged from the army, I have endeavoured to fulfil the part of a cobbler."
Patrick Donaghue, a six-foot Emerald Islander, with an astonishing perpendicular expansion of countenance, was the third in order. He heard thehubbubooas he waspaceablywalking hisbate, and went, right on end, tolarnthe rights of it; and the biggest of the two—without saying "by yerlave,"—took him a mightydacentstroke over thejaws.
Two other watchmen followed; but, as they said, they only came in at the tail of therow, and therefore they did not see the beginning of it. However, they boretestimony to the extreme repugnance of the gentlemen to go to the watch-house.
The gentlemen were now called upon for their defence, and the short one undertook the task of making it. It appeared that he and his tall friend were out so latebecausethey were eatingoysters, consequently the oysters were solely to blame, as far as late hours were concerned. Then, as they were coming out of the oyster-shop, they found twoladies, who also had been up stairs eating oysters, sitting in a hackney coach at the door. There was nothing extraordinary in this; but somehow or other the coachman had got it into his head that these two unlucky gentlemen had ordered the coach for the use of the ladies, then comfortably sitting therein, and of course he looked to them for the fare. Theladiesthemselves encouraged the coachman in this "iniquitous idea," and seemed to enjoy it very much; but our oyster-eaters were not to be had in this way. Theyre-sisted the "abominable demand," the coachmanper-sisted, the ladies laughed, the watch came up, and the oyster eaters were hauled off to durance, most unjustly. As to the blow on the belly, thedacentstroke on the jaws, &c., they denied all that sort of thingin toto.
They were nevertheless held to bail for their appearanceat the sessions; and, doubtless, should they ever be taken with an oyster fit again, they will try to get it over earlier.
Messrs. Theodore Planque (a very tall gentleman), Hugh Jackson (a very short one), and Robert Thomas Huff (neither tall nor short, but, as it were, between both), and abamboo cane, almost as long and large as a little scaffold-pole, were brought before the magistrates from the subterraneous saloons of St. Martin's watch-house, charged with dreadful doings among theCharleys.[13]
It appeared by the statementsproandcon., that the prisoners are very respectable people, and that on Friday night they went to sup with an unquestionably highly respectable tradesman in Long-acre. This supper was given on the occasion of his brother, who is a captain in the navy, having returned from a long and perilous voyage; and, of course, on such an extraordinary occasion, they drank deeper than ordinary. It is really surprising what a quantity of thirsty sentiments an occasion of this kind gives rise to. At last the tall gentleman—or, as one of the watchmen called him, "thelongone"—was found stretched out at his length on the pavement before the door, completely done up. It was acharleywho found him, and a very honestcharley too, as times go; but whilst he was endeavouring to gather him up, the short gentleman came behind and floored poor charley himself, with the greatbamboo, above mentioned. He was soon up again, however—though, as he said, he never was floored by such a queer thing in his life before, nor half soclanely. Once on his legs again, round went his rattle, and in half-a-dozen seconds up came half-a-dozen of his brethren. The short gentleman with his bamboo, seeing this, laid about him lustily—ribs, canisters,[14]or lanterns, it was all one to him. But "who can control his fate?" or what can one single arm do against a dozen? He wasbundledup, or enveloped as it were, in aposseofcharleys, all in fulltog, enough to smother up a Hercules; and after some little ineffectual sprunting, he, and "the long one," and the "middle-sized one," and the great bamboo, were all safely lodged in the watch-house; where the long one, having shaken off his drunken slumbers, committed divers outrageous assaults upon the night constable and his men, as they were putting them down into the cellars.
In their defence before the magistrate, they admitted the drunkenness, but denied the violence; and begged his worship to believe that it was "entirely a case ofsimple intoxication."
BUNDLING UP.
The magistrate ordered the long one to find bail upon four distinct assaults; the short one to find bail upon two distinct assaults; and the middle-sized one was discharged on payment of his fees.
A personage, who described himself as "General Sarsfield Lucan, Viscount Kilmallock in Ireland, a peer of France, and a descendant of Charlemagne," presented himself before the magistrates to solicit a few shillings to enable him to proceed on important business to Wexford.
General Sarsfield Lucan wore an old brown surtout, with the collar turned up behind to keep his neck warm, and a scrap of dirty white ribbon fastened to one of the button-holes; a black velvet waistcoat, powdered with tarnished silverfleurs-de-lis, and an ancient well-wornchapeau bras, surmounted with a fringe of black feathers. He carried under his arm a large roll of writings, and all his pockets were stuffed with tin cases, pocket-books,and bundles of papers: his "fell of hair" was ruefully matted; an enormous tawny whisker covered either cheek and his upper lip and chin,—which, for want of shaving, "showed like a stubble-field at harvest home,"—was all begrimed with real Scotch.
He said he was a native of Wexford in Ireland, and had spent the last seven years in Paris, where his cousin, Louis XVIII., nominated him a peer, and gave him a decoration (the bit of white ribbon above mentioned); but his instalment had been postponed by the then recent change in the ministry; his cousin (Louis XVIII.) assuring him, that as soon as his present ministers were kicked out, he should come in. In the meantime his father had died, and willed him certain lands and houses in Wexford; whereupon he wrote to his sisters, who were resident there, to desire them to send him the proceeds of his estates forthwith; but instead of so doing, they had themselves administered to the will, and were dissipating his patrimony. Under these circumstances, his cousin, the king, advised him to set out immediately for Ireland, and seek redress in person. "Journeying with this intent," he landed at Dover a few days before, but on reaching London he found his finances exhausted, and he was now driven to theunpleasant necessity of applying to their worships for a few shillings, to enable him to proceed.
Sir R. Birnie said, he wondered his royal cousin had not furnished him with the means of prosecuting his journey.
"Sir! I scorned to trouble him at all on such apalthrysubject as money," replied the general, with some warmth; and he then went on to state, that in order to satisfy his coach-hire from Dover to London, he had been necessitated to give up possession of his working tools.
"Yourworking tools!" said the magistrate; "and pray may I ask what trade your lordship follows?"
"No trade in the world at all," replied the general; "I am not the person to be after following trades.—The tools I amspakingabout are what I used in some of the greatest inventions the world ever saw. I invented ahapparatusfor extracting stone and gravel from theblather, without any operation at all. I invented a machine for fishing up vessels foundered at sea, asaisyas fishing up an oyster; and I invented another machine for makingaccouchementthe mostaisything in existence—a merefla-biteto the most tender lady imaginable! And it was partly these inventions,indeed, that brought me to this country now—because I did not choose to be giving foreigners the benefit of them."
"Pray, Sir," said Mr. Minshull, "will you give me leave to ask whether you were ever confined?"
The General—"Confined!for what would I be confined?"
Mr. Minshull—"If you do not understand the nature of my question, I am sorry I put it; but it certainly appeared to me possible that——"
The General—"Sir, you appear to me to be aftertaalkingin a very queer kind of a way to ajontleman! You ought to know what is due to a respectable andgraatman, even though he is in distress."
Mr. Minshull—"Well, Sir, I will speak as plainly to you as you do to me. It is my opinion, and the opinion, I believe, of every person present, that you are out of your mind; and that if you have never been confined, it is high time you were so."
The General angrily declared he was altogethermens sana in corpore sano; and professed himself astonished that any body should entertain a contrary opinion; then taking from his side-pocket a round tin case, nearly as large as a demi-culverin, he offered to produce from itdocuments to show that he was really the important personage he professed himself to be.
The magistrates, however, had no faith in the matter; they told him it might be all very true, but they had no funds to assist him with; and, as he appeared very incredulous on this subject, they at length ordered him to withdraw upon pain of being committed to prison under the Vagrant Act.
This was an awful alternative, which the gallant "General" did not think proper to risk; so gathering up his patents and papers, he put his feather-fringedchapeauupon his head, and taking an ample pinch of snuff—so ample, indeed, that it rushed through his olfactory labyrinth with the noise of a mighty cataract—he stalked majestically out of the office, muttering anathemas as he went.
This was a proceeding under the Pawnbrokers' Act, by which Mrs. Priscilla Williams sought to recover a compensation in damages for the loss of certain property pledged with a Mr. Simmons.
Mrs. Priscilla Williams is a bouncing buxom belle, of five-and-thirty or thereabouts, who, having occasion to raise the sum of eighteen-pence on some sudden emergency, was fain to carry her best black bombasine petticoat—orbum-be-seenpetticoat, as she called it—to Mr. Simmons, of Seven Dials, a diminutive elder, who gathereth profit unto himself daily, by lending to the poor: in commonparlance, a pawnbroker; or, poetically speaking, "My Uncle!" This Mr. Simmons received the petticoat; held it up to the light; observed that "it might well be called abum-be-seenpetticoat, for the moths had riddled[15]it sadly;" and finally, he lent the money required; but when she applied to redeem the petticoat, he told her it was lost, and refused to make her any compensation for it.
Mr. Simmons, in his defence, admitted having received the petticoat, and also having lost it; but he declared Mrs. Priscilla Williams had deluged him with abominable abuse; and he humbly submitted that the said abuse ought to go as a set-off against the lost petticoat.
Mrs. Priscilla Williams protested against any such settlement as that. She readily admitted having "blown Mr. Simmons up a bit," and she thought he richlydeserved it; for he d——d her and her petticoat too, in the mostnotoriousestway imaginable:—"I shouldn't have minded his d——g me," she added, "because it couldn't hurt me, but I thought it extremelyongenteelin him to d——n mypetticoat."
The magistrate ordered that Mr. Simmons should pay the value of the petticoat, with full costs of suit.
Two apprentice boys in the service of a very respectable tradesman in Museum-street, together with a littlenight-walkerwere charged by an Irish watchman with kicking up a great big row and clatter, at Charing-cross, at half-past twelve o'clock in the morning; and, what was still worse, with laughingat, and using bad wordstothe said watchman, when he very civilly told them to "be off of his bate;" and "moreover and above, withinchingitbackertin the teeth of him."
"And pray what is 'inchingitbackert?'" asked his worship.
"Fait, your honour, an' this it is"—replied honest Mahoney, shuffling his feet backwards, inch by inch.
His worship observed, that he had never heard the verb "inching" used before, and therefore he had asked for an explanation. "I suppose you conjugate it 'I inch—thou inchest—he inches,' don't you, Mr. Mahoney?"
"Your honour knows the rights of every thing," replied Mr. Mahoney; and the case proceeded.
It appeared that the two lads had obtained leave of their master to go home for clean linen, and had taken that opportunity of taking a twelvepenny peep at the wonders of Astley's Amphitheatre; and that, in their return to their master's house, they werepickedup by the littlenight-walker; that she, being known to Mr. Mahoney as "a noisy customer," he told her to go off and leave the lads alone; whereupon shetratedMr. Mahoney with some abuse, and the lads taking her part, they were all three carried to the watch-house.
The worthy magistrate read them an excellent lesson on the impropriety of their conduct, and prevailed upon their master to forgive them. This done, they were discharged; and the lady was sent to Bridewell—she being well known as most depraved and disorderly.
Mr. Humphrey Brummel, a tall, gaunt old gentleman, of pedagogue-ish exterior, with each particular hair standing on end, like quills upon the fretful porcupine, was charged by Mr. Terence O'Connor, a Covent-garden watchman, with having beenextramelydisorderly under thepehazies(piazzas) during the night.
The magistrate inquired as to the nature of his disorderliness, and Mr. Terence O'Connor explained it to be—"spachingto the lads, andfrullishinghis stick about like a merry Andrew." It also appeared that he continued these eccentricities from midnight till four in the morning, "clanecontrary to all sorts ofdacency;" and therefore Mr. Terence O'Connor lodged him in the watch-house.
Mr. Humphrey Brummel in his defence said, he took shelter under the Piazza from the inclemency of the weather: and it was very possible that, whilst there, he might have endeavoured to cheer the loneliness of the hour by an audible repetition of some appropriate passages from the poets. But he was totally unconscious of offence, and he solemnly declared that instead of "spachingto the lads," he stationed himself in a door-way far apart fromevery living soul; and had not Mr. Terence O'Connor been so over officious, he should have gone quietly to his bed, and his worship would not have been put to the pain of listening to such a frivolous charge.
"An' please your worship," exclaimed Mr. Terence O'Connor, "he says he's got anactofParlymentin his pocket, what'll lay me by the heels, an' I hope your worship will make himprove his words!"
"I will do my best," replied his worship, smiling, and at the same time asking Mr. Brummel what Act of Parliament he alluded to.
"Lord love you, sir," replied the tall old man, "I never alluded to any Act of Parliament; but I did threaten to report him to your worship for sleeping on his post."
"Is it true, O'Connor, that you really do sleep whilst on duty?" asked his worship.
"Ounlythat time I got no sleep in the day," replied the night guardian, blushing as intensely as a fresh-washed Munster potato.
"You are both fool and knave, Mr. O'Connor," observed his worship—"aknavefor sleeping when you are paid to keep awake, and afoolfor wantonly bringing this complaint against yourself."
Mr. Humphrey Brummel was then discharged withouta fee; and Mr. Terence O'Connor was dismissed with an assurance that hiswatchingshould bewatchedin future, and that he should be suspended if caught napping.
A pretty little aquiline-faced, "gazelle-eyed" damsel, was brought in by one of the St. Clement Danes' constables, charged with creating a riot in the chambers of Mr. Snuggs, of Clement's Inn.
Master Constable knew nothing of the alleged riot, save and except what Mr. Snuggs had told him; and so he was ordered to stand aside; but Mr. Snuggs himself told a long and lamentable story of the sufferings he had endured from the fair prisoner. He had originally engaged her as a servant to attend to the domestic department at his chambers; but she took advantage of hispartialityfor her services, and made the chambers too hot to hold him, as it were;—she disturbed his studies by her loquacity; she lived intemperately; she set him at defiance; she got her relations to help her to persecute him; and, if he only attempted to remonstrate with her, she raised the whole neighbourhood about his ears! Heconcluded by expressing a hope that his worship would put a stop to her doings.
The magistrate thought there must be something very strange in all this; for what man of any spirit would suffer the serenity of his chambers and his mind to be so disturbed by a little gipsy of an Abigail, "when he himself might hisquietusmake with a barewarning." He therefore put a question, or two, to Mr. Snuggs, touching the "partiality" he had spoken of.
Mr. Snuggs replied afar off—somewhat approaching to the obscure; but not so the fair troubler of his peace and his chambers. She gave his worship to understand, in good round terms, that she was the veritablemammaof sundrylittle Snuggses; and that Mr. Snuggs was neither more nor less than a gay deceiver. She denied that she had ever "kicked up a row" in his chambers—she had merely told him of his faults and his failings; and she hoped his worship would not think of separating her from her children.
The magistrate immediately dismissed the charge; the damsel smiled triumphantly; and Mr. Snuggs, like a tall elderly gentleman as he was, stalked out of the office, sighing—as who should say, "The Gods are just, and of our pleasant vices make instruments to scourge us!"
This was a proceeding wherein one Mrs. Florence O'Shaughnessy sought "purtection behintthe lawagenthe thumpings of herounlawful husband," Mr. Phelim O'Shaughnessy, of the parish of St. Giles, labourer.
Phelim O'Shaughnessy was a clean-made, curly-pated, good-tempered little fellow, in a new flannel jacket, white apron, and duck trousers. His wife, Florence, was about his own size, no whit behind him in cleanliness, very pretty, and she had a voice—plaintive as a turtledove's.
"—An' plase your honour," said she, "this is Phelim O'Shaughnessy, the husband to myself, that was when he married me; and is—barring thebatinghe gave me yesterday, just for nothing at all, your honour, that I knows of—ounlythat he listens to bad folks, the neighbours of us; and bad folks they are sure enough, your honour, for that same; and your honour'll be plased just to do me the kindness to make themhouldtheirpaceand not be after taking away the senses of myounhusband from me, to make him look upon me like a stranger, your honour—for what would I be then?"
Poor Florence would have gone on murmuring forth her little griefs in this manner by the hour together, if his worship would have listened to her. But the office was crowded with business, and he reminded her that the warrant she had sued for, charged her husband with having beat her; and she must confine herself to making good that charge, if she wished to have him punished for so doing.
"Your honour," said Florence, with a low courtesy, "it isn't myself that would hurt a hair of the head of him;ounlythat your honour would hear the rights of it, and tell Phelim he shouldn't be afterbatingme for the likes of them. And here he is to the fore, your honour, for that same."
The magistrate found it would be vain to think of hearing "the rights of it" from Florence; and therefore he asked Phelim what he had to say to it.
Now Phelim was a man of few words. He had listened calmly to all Florence had been saying, and it was not till the magistrate had twice put the question to him, that he left off smoothing his dusty hat, and then, looking steadfastly in his worship's face, he replied, "Och! it's all about the threepence ha'penny, your honour. It was Saturday night when I gave her every farthing of thewages I earned that week—and so I does every Saturday night, come when it may, your honour—and when I ax'd her on Monday morning to give me threepence ha'penny, to get me a pint of beer and the little loaf,bekaseI was going to a long job in the city, and didn't know what time I'd be back to myounplace, she wouldn't give it me any how, your honour; and sure I did give her a clout or two."
"But you would not do so again, I am sure, Phelim," observed his worship. "You should remember that she is your wife, whom you have vowed to protect and cherish; and besides, you know it is disgraceful in any man to strike a woman—especially in anIrishman. You must give me your solemn promise, Phelim, that you will not strike her again."
"Sure I'd be abasteif Iwhopp'dher again, your honour," replied Phelim, "when I just thought of askameto do without it.—It'sounlykeeping the threepence ha'penny in myounpocket, your honour, and I'll have no occasion tobateit out of her at all."
The bystanders laughed at thisskameof Phelim's, and even the magistrate smiled, as he good-humouredly told Florence, that, though he believed her to be an excellent wife, he thought that she was a little too hard in refusingher husband such a trifle as threepence half-penny when he was going to work so far from home.
Florence smiled also; but there was a thoughtful sadness in her smile; and, when the laughter had subsided, she told his worship, that it was not the "coppers," nor the bit of a "bating" Phelim had given her, that she cared about. He hadharkenedto bad tales about her, she said, and had sworn never to be good to her till she said "two words" to him.
His worship asked her if her husband supposed she was untrue to him.
She replied that he did, and implored the magistrate to let her swear to her fidelity!
His worship told her he was sure there was no need of any such ceremony—"Phelim," said he, "has too much good sense to listen to any idle stories about you."
Still, however, poor Florence would not be pacified; and snatching the Gospels from the table, she pressed the sacred volume fervidly to her lips, and then raising her eyes, she exclaimed—"So help me God! that, barring Phelim and myself, I don't know man from woman."
All this while Phelim stood hanging down his head, and fumbling at the buckle of his hat in the simplest manner imaginable. "For shame, Phelim!" said themagistrate, as Florence made an end of her oath—"For shame, Phelim!—How can you stand there and see the distress of such a wife, without coming forward and assuring her of your confidence?—Give her your hand, man, and comfort her as she deserves."
Phelim stretched forth his hand—Florence grasped it almost convulsively, and raising it to her lips, all chapped and sun-burnt as it was, she kissed it—they looked each other in the face for a moment—burst into tears, and hastily left the office arm-in-arm.
Mr. Christopher Clutterbuck and Mr. Dionysius Dobbs were charged with having created a great uproar and disturbance in the lobbies of Drury-lane Theatre on the previous evening, and with having grievously assaulted certain peace-officers, who attempted to quell the said disturbance, by taking the said Christopher Clutterbuck and Dionysius Dobbs into custody. These gentlemen wereCorinthians—that is to say, in the fashion of the time, gentlemen who were "up,down, andflyto every thing."
They were brought from Covent Garden watch-house, together with a gang of young thieves, disorderly cobblers, drunken prostitutes, houseless vagabonds, and other off-scourings of society; and a very respectable appearance they made.—Christopher Clutterbuck, a long, sturdy, burly-boned, short-visaged, curly-headed, whiskerless subject, with a hat of that cut called akiddy shallow, and an enormous pair of bull's-eye spectacles; and Dionysius Dobbs, a lean, lack-beardical, long-faced, sunken-cheeked, hollow-eyed, cossack-waisted concern, with a very gentlemanly imperfection of vision, and a silver eye-glass to correspond. And there they were, for nearly an hour before the arrival of the magistrate, crammed among the tagrag-and-bobtail in the common waiting room, orsweating-room, as it is sometimes more properly called.—Mr. Kit Clutterbuck, strutting to and fro, with arms a-kimbo, as vigorous as a turkey-cock; and Dionysius Dobbs, lolling upon one of the forms, lifting his eye-glass from time to time, and gasping like an expiring magpie; whilst the torn and bemuddedtoggeryof each of them, all tacked together with pins, gave ample proof of their love of "Life."
The magistrates having taken their seats, the demolished Corinthians were ushered into their presence,and a charge, of which the following is the substance, was exhibited against them.
Between the third and fourth acts of the play—which happened very appropriately to beWild Oats—they were swaggering about the lobbies, insulting every body that came in their way; the "big one"—that is to say, Mr. Kit Clutterbuck—offering tomill"any body in the world," and repeatedly exclaiming—"Oh! that a man of my own powers would come athwart me!" and the "thin one" (that's Mr. Dionysius Dobbs) lisping responsively—"That's your sort! Go it, Kitty mycovy!" Nobody taking the challenge,Kitty my covy, in the overflowing of his Corinthianism, seized his friend, the delicate Mr. Dionysius Dobbs, and dashing him against the wall of the lobby, shattered one of the lamps with his emptyknowledge-box. Dionysius Dobbs took the concussion in good part; but Mr. Spring, the box book-keeper, who happened to witness the feat, was not so well pleased, and sent for Bond, the officer, to remove them. Bond prevailed upon them to be a little more quiet; and the loss of the lamp was overlooked. But in a quarter of an hour after, he found them taking indelicate liberties with the wretched women in the saloons, sparring, bellowing, and capering, like a pair of drunkenourang-outangs, as hesaid, to the great danger of the mirrors, and the scandal of thesaloon itself. He again attempted to remonstrate with them; but all he could get from them was a challenge to fight, fromKitty my covy; and therefore he called for the assistance of his brother officers, determined to remove them entirely from the theatre. A posse of other officers came to his assistance; and then began what the Corinthians called aprime spree—viz., Billingsgate bellowings, black eyes, broken coxcombs, and rending of garments; Kitty Clutterbuck swinging his arms about like the sails of a windmill; Dionysius Dobbs shrieking and clinging to the balustrades like a monkey in hysterics; and the officers dragging at their collars in front, and twisting at their tails behind; and in this fashion they were, by degrees,workedout of the theatre into the street. And then, as they had been so very obstreperous and Corinthianish, the officers determined to deposit them in the disorderly dépôt of the watch-house. In their way thither, Kitty Clutterbuck got hold of an officer's hand, and gave it such a twist that three of the fingers were dislocated, and the tendons of the wrist very seriously injured. When they got into the watch-house, Kitty conducted himself more like a mad bull than any thing else—butting and bellowing atevery thing that came in his way. His honour, the nocturnal constable, therefore, ordered that he should be put down below—in the subterraneanboudoir; but Mr. Christopher Clutterbuck blew up the boudoir, and his honour too, in good set terms, and threatened his honour, moreover, with the high displeasure of a certain noble marquis. "Tut! none of your gammon!" retorted his honour; and Mr. Christopher Clutterbuck was forthwith "quoited down stairs like a shove-groat shilling;" but not before he had grievously avenged himself on the persons of hisquoiters. There were five of them engaged in the service, and every one of them came off halting.
These matters having been duly set forth in evidence before the magistrates, they called upon the conquered constable-quelled Corinthians for their defence. Whereupon Mr. Christopher Clutterbuck, with many propitiatory deviations from the perpendicular, delivered himself thus:—
"Your worships—that is to say, your worships, I—hem! I beg pardon, your worships, but I don't know. It is extremely awkward—all I can say is—that is, all I have to offer is, that I—belong to—to his Majesty's service,hem! But unfortunately—unfortunately, your worships, have not been in the habit of being much intown, and—the fact is, your worships, I really don't know exactly; but this gentleman (Mr. Dionysius Dobbs) is my friend—my particular friend, and a gentleman, as you perceive—that is, he is a gentleman, I assure you. I suppose your worships, we were not in our regular senses—certainly we could not be—we were not so sober as we might have been at sometimes, I suppose; but the fact is, no doubt, I imagine, we must make amends for any damage we have done, certainly."
Mr. Dionysius Dobbs said nothing. Once or twice he essayed to speak, but what he had to say stuck in his throat. So he gasped piteously; and looked unutterable things, with an aspect so droopingly lack-a-daisical, that the very officers seemed sorry for him.
Their worships, however, commented severely upon their misdeeds, and ordered that they should put in good and sufficient bail for their appearance at the Quarter Sessions, there to answer to five distinct indictments for assault. Mr. Christopher Clutterbuck in 100l., with two sureties in 50l.each; and Mr. Dionysius Dobbs in 80l., with two sureties in 40l.each.
They had no bail ready, and were locked up all day, among other unfortunates, in the iron room. In theevening they gave the required bail; and, meanwhile, the Grand Jury returned five true bills against them. But they were never brought to trial; for, before the next Sessions, they found means to make their peace with the injured officers, at an expense of some forty or fifty pounds. And this is worshipfulCorinthianism.
This was a proceeding, by warrant, for an assault and battery, arising out of the non-settlement of a debt of honour.
Mr. Elias Simmons, the complainant, is of the children of Israel; a fat, round man, of a pleasant countenance, and addicted to luxuriating in brown stout and a pipe, in the little back parlour at the Cannon Tavern—a comfortable public-house, somewhere in Knightsbridge. The defendant, Mr. Jacques Breton, is a native of Switzerland; tall, gaunt, and elderly, with a nice sense of honour, "sudden and quick in quarrel," and, withal, in the practice of sometimes taking a half-gill of old sherry in a goblet of pure spring water, at the Cannon Tavern aforesaid. He appeared before the magistratewith a large black silk handkerchief bound round his head, so as to cover one of his eyes.
On the day named in the warrant, it being between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Elias Simmons was in the little back parlour at the tavern aforesaid, luxuriating as aforesaid, and several other gentlemen, then and there assembled, were luxuriating in like manner, when the door opened, and in stalked Mr. Jacques Breton; who, having seated himself, rang the bell and ordered his sherry and water as usual. Now it so happened that Mr. Jacques Breton was indebted to Mr. Elias Simmons in the sum of two shillings and sixpence; and, moreover, the said debt had been standing almost time immemorial, so that Mr. Elias Simmons was weary of waiting for it; and, as it was a "debt of honour," he began to entertain doubts that Mr. Jacques Breton meant to avail himself of that circumstance, andforgetto pay it. He did not presume to say that such was the case, but he entertained that opinion; and the moment he saw Mr. Jacques Breton enter the room, he determined in his own mind to put it to the proof. Howbeit, knowing Mr. Jacques Breton's constitutional irascibility, and unwilling to wound his feelings before the English gentlemen present, he addressed him in French, viz.,"Monsieur—voulez-vous—donner moi—mon leetel demiécu, monsieur?" To which civil interrogation—put with all the good humour in the world—Mr. Jacques Breton instantly replied, "Ahah! sacré! vat? you want to 'front me!"—and seizing a heavycuefrom a bagatelle board on the table, he grasped it in both hands, and, before the company could interfere, he gave Mr. Elias Simmons a "thunderingthwack" on the bare head, which shivered his tobacco-pipe into a thousand pieces, and laid him prostrate among the spittoons!
For this outrageous and totally unanticipated attack, Mr. Elias Simmons now sought redress from the laws of that country in which he has the honour of sojourning.
The magistrate having strictly inquired whether no other provocation had been given, and having been assured there had not, asked Mr. Jacques Breton what he had to say in excuse for such violence?
Mr. Jacques Breton prepared for his defence by throwing back his head and lifting up the black silk handkerchief before-mentioned; and having placed himself in this unpicturesque position, he began—"Ahah! monsieur—see—he broke my eye!Voilà, monsieur!see my eye!Voilà!"
It was very evident that beneath his black handkerchiefhe had a dreadful black eye, and the magistrate asked how he came by it?
The witnesses replied that it was done in disarming him of thecue, whilst complainant was still sprawling among the spittoons.
Mr. Jacques Breton proceeded with his defence. "I vas ver much vex at Monsieur Simmon," said he, "because I vood pay ven it satisfied myself. I vas so mush up—vat you call d—n angry, dat de taut come I vood punise him, ahah. But, monsieur, destrikevas not sufficient to murder von littel—von vara littel fly!"
Monsieur Jacques Breton had nothing better to offer in his defence, and after having repeated the same things half-a-dozen times over, he was delivered into the iron custody of the turnkey till he should find bail for his appearance at the Sessions.