14 Died in 1803.
He had in every form sufficiency, and sometimes eminence. He had more facility in Greek than most boys; his English exercises were conspicuous for language and neatness of turn.
He was a very uncorrupt boy, and his manners were rather elevated; yet it is not remembered that he lost popularity even with the worst boys in the school; the whole secret of which wasspecie minus quam vi. He was better than he seemed. There was no pride, no offending wish at seclusion.
Though not so remarkable for book knowledge as his brother Sir James, who thus, indeed, was nothing less than a prodigy, yet was M'Donald extremely well and very variously read. In miscellaneous information, far more accomplished than any boy of his time.
Markham, the master, had a high opinion of him; and once, in the midst of strong and favourable prognostics, said, "There was nothing against him but what was for him; rank and connections, and the too probable event of thence advancing into life too forward and too early."
Markham spoke with much sagacity. Therosa serais the thing, for safe and spreading efflorescence. Well as the wreath might be about M'Donald's brow, it had probably been better, if gathered less eagerly, if put on later.
Cock Langford was the son of the auctioneer—
And there never was an inheritance of qualities like it. He would have made as good an auctioneer as his father; a better could not bo.
Cock Langford, so called, from the other auctioneer Cock, very early in the school discovered great talents for ways and means; and, by private contract, could do business as much and as well as his father.
His exercises were not noted for any excess of merit, or the want of it. He certainly had parts, if they had been put in their proper direction: that was trade. In that he might have been conspicuously useful.
As he was in college, and nothing loath in any occasion that led to notice, in spite of a lisp in his speech, he played Davus in the Phormio; which he opened with singidar absurdity, as the four first words terminate in the letter s, which he, from the imperfection in his speech, could not help mangling.
From the patronage of Lord Orford, Mr. Langford had one of the best livings in Norfolk, £1000 a year; and afterwards, I understand, very well exemplified the useful and honourable duties of a clergyman resident on his benefice.
Hamilton. Every thing is the creature of accident; as thatworks upon time and place, so are the vicissitudes which follow; vicissitudes that reach through the whole allotment of man, even to the charm of character, and the qualities which produce it.
Physically speaking, human nature can redress itself of climate, can generate warmth in high latitudes, and cold at the equator; but in respect to mind and manners, from the law of latitude there is no appeal. Man, like the plants that grow for him, has a proper sky and soil: with them to flourish, without them to fade; through either kingdom, vegetable and moral, in situations that are aquatic, the alpine nature cannot live.
All this applies to Hamilton wasting himself at Westminster. "Wild nature's vigour working at his root;"
his situation should have been accordingly; where he might have spread wide and struck deep.
With more than boyish aptitudes and abilities, he should not thus have been lost among boys. His incessant intrepidity, his restless curiosity, his undertaking spirit, all indicated early maturity; all should have led to pursuits, if not better, at least of more pith and moment than the mere mechanism of dead language!
This by Hamilton (disdaining as a business what as an amusement perhaps might have delighted him) was deemed a dead letter, and as such, neglected; while he bestowed himself on other mechanism, presenting more material objects to the mind.
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Exercises out of school took place of exercises within. Not that like Sackville or Hawkins, he had a ball at every leisure moment in his hand; but, preferably to fives or cricket, he would amuse himself in mechanical pursuits; little in themselves, but great as to what they might have been convertible.
In the fourth form, he produced a red shoe of his own making. And though he never made a pocket watch, and probably might mar many, yet all the interior machinery he knew and could name. The whole movement he took to pieces, and replaced.
The man who is to find out the longitude, cannot have beginnings; better than these. Count Bruhl, since Madge's death, the best watch-maker of his time, did not raise more early wonder.
Besides this, Hamilton was to be found in every daring oddity. Lords Burlington and Kent, in all their rage for porticos, were nothing to him in a rage for pediments.
For often has the morning caught him scaling the high pediments of the school-door, and at peril of Ins life clambering down, opening the door within, before the boy who kept the gate could come with the key. His evenings set upon no less perils; in pranks with gunpowder; in leaping from unusual heights into theThames. As a practical geographer of London, and Heaven only knows how many miles round it, omniscient Jackson himself could not know more.
All this, surely, was intrinsically right, wrong only in its direction. Had he been sent to Woolwich, he might have come out, if not a rival of the Duke of Richmond, then master of the ordnance, at least a first-rate engineer. In economical arts and improvements, nothing less than national, he might have been the Duke of Bridgewater of Ireland. Had the sea been his profession, Lord Mulgrave might have been less alone in the rare union of science and enterprise.
But all this capability of usefulness and fair fame, was brought to nought by the obstinate absurdity of the people about him; nothing could wean them from Westminster. His grandfather Roan, or Rohan, an old man who saved much money in Rathbone-place, and spent but little of it every evening at Slaughter's coffee-house, holding out large promise to property, so became absolute; and absolute nonsense was his conduct to his grandson. He persevered in the school; where, if a boy disaffects book-knowledge, his books are only bought and sold. And after Westminster, when the old man died, as if solicitous that every thing about his grave, but poppy and mandragora, should grow downwards, his will declared his grandson the heir, but not to inherit till he graduated at Cambridge.
To Cambridge therefore he went; where having pursued his studies, as it is called, in a ratio inverse and descending, he might have gone on from bad to worse; and so, as many do, putting a grave face upon it, he might have had his degree. But his animal spirits, and love of bustle, could not go off thus undistinguished; and so, after coolly attempting to throw a tutor into the Cam—after shaking all Cambridge from its propriety by a night's frolic, in which he climbed the sign-posts, and changed the principal signs, he was rusticated; till the good-humour of the university returning, he was re-admitted, and enabled to satisfy his grandfather's will!
After that, he behaved with much gallantry in America; and with good address in that very disagreeable affair, the contested marriage of his sister with Mr. Beresford the clergyman.
Indeed, through the intercourse of private life he was very amiable. The same suavity of speech, courteous attentions, and general good-nature, he had when a boy, continued and improved: good qualities the more to be prized, as the less probable, from his bold and eager temper, from the turbulence of his wishes, and the hurry of his pursuits.
Jekyl had in part, when a boy, the same happy qualities which afterwards distinguished him so entirely: in his economy of time, in his arts of arranging life, and distributing it exactly, between what was pleasant and what was grave.
With vigorous powers and fair pursuits, the doing one thing at a time is the mode to do every thing. Had Jekyl no other excellence than this, I could not be surprised when he became attorney-general.
"When you got into the place of your ancestor, Sir Joseph," said the tutor of Jekyl to him, "let this be your motto:
Et properare loco, et Cesare."
"Jekyl," said Mrs. Hobart one day, struck with the same address and exactness, "do you know, if you were a painter, Poussin would be nothing to you in the balance of a scene."
Several of his English exercises, and his verses, will not easily be forgotten. And it will be remembered also, in a laughable way, that he was as mischievous as a gentleman need be; the mobbing a vulgar, the hoaxing a quiz, all the dialect of the Thames below Chelsea-reach, and the whole reach of every thing, pleasant but wrong, which the school statutes put out of reach, but what are the practice of the wits, and of every gentleman who would live by the statutes. All these were among Jekyl's early peculiarities, and raised his fame very high for spirit and cleverness.
"So sweet and voluble was his discourse."
He was very popular among all the boys of his time. And he had a knack yet more gratifying, of recommending himself to the sisters and cousins of the boys he visited.
And he well held up in theory what he afterwards exemplified in fact. For in one of the best themes of the time on this subject,
"Non formosus erat, sod erat facundus Ulysses,"
he was much distinguished.
"But the grave has closed upon most of the gay spirits of my earlier time," said Crony; "and I alone remain the sad historian. Yonder porch leads to the dormitory and school-room.{15}
'There Busby's awful picture decks the place,Shining where once he shone a living grace.'15 This school was founded by Queen Elizabeth in 1560, forthe education of forty boys, denominated king's scholarsfrom the royalty of their founders; besides which, thenobility and gentry send their sons thither for instruction,so that this establishment vies with Eton in celebrity andrespectability. The school is not endowed with lands andpossessions specifically appropriated to its ownmaintenance, but is attached to the general foundation ofthe collegiate church of Westminster, as far as relates tothe support of the king's scholars. It is under the care ofthe dean and chapter of Westminster, conjointly with thedean of Christ Church, Oxford, and the master of Trinity,Cambridge, respect-ing the election of scholars to theirrespective colleges. The foundation scholars sleep in thedormitory, a building erected from the design and under thesuperintendence of the celebrated Earl of Burlington, in thereign of George the First; and in this place the annualtheatrical exhibitions take place; the scenery andarrangements having been contrived under the direction ofMr. Garrick, were presented by Archbishop Markham, theformer master of the school. The king's scholars are distin-guished from the town-boys, or independents, by a gown, cap,and college waistcoat; they have their dinner in the hall,but seldom take any other meal in college; they pay foreducation and accommodation as the town-boys; eight of themare generally elected at the end of the fourth year to thecolleges above-named; they have studentships at Oxford, andscholarships at Cambridge; the former worth from forty tosixty pounds per annum, but the latter of small beneficialconsideration. The scholars propose themselves for thefoundation by challenge, and contend with each other inLatin and Greek every day for eight weeks successively, whenthe eight at the head of the number are chosen according tovacancies. This contest occasions the king's scholarships tobe much sought after, as it becomes the ground-work ofreputation, and incites desire to excel. There are four boyswho are called Bishop's boys, from their being establishedby Williams, Bishop of Lincoln; they have a gratuitouseducation, and a small allowance which is suffered toaccumulate till the period of their admission into St.John's College, Cambridge; they are distinguished by wearinga purple gown, and are nominated by the dean and head-master.
What a cloud of recollections, studded with bright and variegated lights, passes before my inward vision! Stars of eminence in every branch of learning, science, and public duties, who received their education within those walls; old Westminsters, whose fame will last as long as old England's records, and who shall doubtthat will be to the end of time? Here grew into manhood and renown the Lord Burleigh, King, Bishop of London, the poet Cowley, the great Dryden, Charles Montague, Earl of Halifax, Dr. South, Matthew Prior, the tragedian Rowe, Bishop Hooper, Kennet, Bishop of Peterborough, Dr. Friend, the physician, King, Archbishop of Dublin, the philosopher Locke, Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester, Bourne, the Latin poet, Hawkins Browne, Boyle, Earl of Cork and Orrery, Carteret, Earl of Granville, Charles Churchill, the English satirist, Frank Nicholls, the anatomist, Gibbon, the historian, George Colman, Bonnel Thornton, the great Earl of Mansfield, Clayton Mordaunt Cracherode, Richard Cumberland, the poet Cowper. These are only a few of the great names which occur to me at this moment; but here is enough to immortalize the memory of the old Westminsters."
On the Attachment of the Moderns to Good Eating andDrinking—Its Consequences and Operation upon Society—Different Description of Dinner Parties—Royal—Noble—Parliamentary—Clerical—Methodistical—Charitable—Theatrical—Legal—Parochial—Literary—Commercial andCivil Gourmands—Sketches at a Side-table, by BernardBlackmantle.
"There are, while human miseries abound,A thousand ways to waste superfluous wealth,Without one fool or flatterer at your board,Without one hour of sickness or disgust."—Armstrong.
In such esteem is good eating held by the moderns, that the only way in which Englishmen think they can celebrate any important event, or effect any charitable purpose, is by a good dinner. From the palace to the pot-house, the same affection for good eating and drinking pervades all classes of mankind. The sovereign, when he would graciously condescend to bestow on any individual some mark of his special favour, invites him to the royal banquet, seats himtète-à-têtewith the most polished prince in Europe; by this act of royal notice exalts him in the public eye, and by the suavity and elegance of his manners rivets his affections and secures his zeal for the remainder of his life. The ministers too have their state dinners, where all important questions are considered before they are submitted to the grand council of the nation. The bishops dine in holyconclave to benefit Christianity, and moralize over Champagne on the immorality of mankind. The judges dine with the lord chancellor on the first day of term, and try their powers of mastication before they proceed to try the merits of their fellow citizens' causes. A lawyer must eat his way to the bar, labouring most voraciously through his commons dinners in the Temple or Lincoln's Inn Halls, before he has any chance of success in common law, common pleas, or common causes in the court of King's Bench or Chancery. The Speaker's parliamentary dinners are splendid spreads for poor senators; but sometimes the feast is infested with rats, whom his majesty's royal rat-catcher immediately cages, and contrives, by the aid of a blue or red ribband, to render extremely useful and docile. Your orthodox ministers dine on tithes, turtle, and Easter offerings, until they become as sleek as their own velvet cushions, and eke from charity to mankind almost as red in the face from the ruby tint of red port, and the sorrowful recollections of sin and death. The methodist and sectarians have their pious love feasts—bachelor's fare, bread and butter and kisses, with a dram of comfort at parting, I suppose. The deaf, the dumb, the lame, the blind, all have their annual charitable dinnerings; and even the Actor's Fund is almost entirely dependent on the fund of amusement they contrive to offer to their friends at their annual fund dinner. The church-wardens dine upon a child, and the overseers too often upon the mite extorted from the poor. Even modern literature is held in thraldom by the banquetings of modern booksellers and publishers, who by this method contrive to cram the critics with their crudities, and direct the operation of their servile pens in the cutting up of poor authors. At the Publisher's Club, held at the Albion, Dr. Kitchener and Will Jerdau rule the roast; here these worthies may be heard commenting withprofound critical consistency on culinaries and the classics, gurgling down heavy potations of black strap, and making still heavier remarks upon black letter bibliomania, until all the party are found labouring "Dare pondus idonea fumo," or, in the language of Cicero, it may be justly said of them, "Damnant quod non intelligent." The magnifico Murray has his merry meetings, where new books are made palatable to certain tastes by sumptuous feastings, and a choice supply of old wines. Colburn brings his books into notice by first bringing his dinnercoteriesinto close conclave; and Longman's monthly melange of authors and critics is a literary statute dinner, where every guest is looking out for a liberal engagement.
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Even the booksellers themselves feast one another before they buy and sell; and a trade sale, without a trade dinner to precede it, would be a very poor concern indeed. Fire companies and water companies, bubble companies and banking companies, all must be united and consolidated by a good dinner company. Your fat citizen, with a paunch that will scarce allow him to pass through the side avenue of Temple Bar, marks his feast days upon his sheet almanack, as a lawyer marks his term list with a double dash, thus =, and shakes in his easy chair like a sack of blubber as lie recapitulates the names of all the glorious good things of which he has partaken at the annual civic banquet at Fishmonger's Hall, or the Bible Association dinner at the City of London Tavern: at the mention of white bait, his lips smack together with joy, and he lisps out instinctively Blackwall: talk of a rump steak and Dolly's, his eyes grow wild with delight; and just hint at the fine green fat of a fresh killed turtle dressed at Birch's, and his whole soul's in arms for a corporation dinner. Reader, I have been led into this strain of thinking by an excursion I am about to make with Alderman Marigold and family,to enjoy the pleasures of a Sunday ordinary in the suburbs of the metropolis; an old fashioned custom that is now fast giving way to modern notions of refinement, and is therefore the more worthy of characteristic record.
Bernard Blackmantle.
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Bernard Blackmantle's first Excursion with the MarigoldFamily—Lucubrations of the Alderman on the Alterations ofthe Times—Sketches and Recollections on the Road—The Pastand the Present—Arrival at the Gate House, Highgate—TheCit's Ordinary—Traits of Character—The Water Drinker, theVegetable Eater, and the Punster—Tom Cornish, theGourmand—Anecdote of old Tattersall and his Beef Eater—Young Tat. and the Turnpike Man.
"May I never be merry more," said the alderman, "if we don't go a Maying on Sunday next, and you must accompany us, Master Blackmantle: I always make a country excursion once a year, to wit, on the first Sunday in May, when we join a very jolly party at the Gate House, Highgate, and partake of an excellent ordinary."
"I thought, Pa, you would have given up that vulgar custom when we removed westward, and you were elected alderman of the ward of Cheap."
"Ay," said Mrs. Marigold, "if you wish to act politely to your wife and daughter write to the Star and Garter at Richmond, or the Toy at Hampton Court, and order a choice dinner beforehand for a select party; then we should be thought something of, and be able to dine in comfort, without beingscrowgedup in a corner by a Leadenhall landlady, or elbowed out of every mouthful by a Smithfield salesman."
"There it is, Mr. Blackmantle, that's the evil of a man having a few pounds more in his purse than his neighbours—it makes him miserable with his family at home, and prevents him associating with old friends abroad. If you marry my Biddy, make these conditions with her—to dispense with all Mrs. Marigold's maxims on modern manners, and be at liberty to smoke your pipe where, and with whom you please."
"I declare, Pa, one would imagine you wished Mr. Blackmantle to lose all his manners directly after marriage, and all respect for his intended bride beforehand."
"Nothing of the sort, Miss Sharpwit; but, ever since I made the last fortunate contract, you and your mother have contracted a most determined dislike to every thing social and comfortable—haven't I cut the Coger's Society in Bride Lane, and the Glee Club at the Ram in Smithfield? don't I restrain myself to one visit a week to the Jolly Old Scugs{1} Society in Abchurch Lane? haven't I declined the chair of the Free and Easy Johns, and given up my command in the Lumber Troop?—are these no sacrifices? is it nothing to have converted my ancestors' large estate in Thames Street into warehouses, and emigrated westward to be confined in one of your kickshaw cages in Tavistock Square? Don't I keep a chariot and a chaise for your comfort, and consent to be crammed up in a corner at a concert party to hear some foreign stuff I don't understand? Plague take your drives in Hyde Park and promenades in Kensington Gardens! give me the society where I can eat, drink, laugh, joke, and smoke
1 Blue coat boys. The others are all well-known anacreonticmeetings held in the city.
as I like, without being obliged to watch every word and action, as if my tongue was a traitor to my head, and my stomach a tyrant of self-destruction."
The alderman's remonstrance was delivered with so much energy and good temper, that there was no withstanding his argument; a hearty laugh, at the conclusion, from Miss Biddy and myself, accompanied by an ejaculation of "Poor man, how ill you are used!" from his lady, restored all to good-humour, and obtained the "quid pro quo," a consent on their parts to yield to old customs, and, for once in a way, to allow the alderman to have a day of his own. The next morning early an open barouche received our party, the coachman being particularly cautioned not to drive too fast, to afford the alderman an opportunity ofluxuriatingupon the reminiscences of olden time.
As the carriage rolled down the hill turning out of the New Road the alderman was particularly eloquent in pointing out and describing the once celebrated tea gardens, Bagnigge Wells.
"In my young days, sir, this place was the great resort of city elegance and fashion, and divided the town with Vauxhall. Here you might see on a Sunday afternoon, or other evenings, two thirds of the corporation promenading with their wives and daughters; then there was a fine organ in the splendid large room, which played for the entertainment of the company, and such crowds of beautiful women, and gay fellows in embroidered suits and lace ruffles, all powdered and perfumed like a nosegay, with elegant cocked hats and swords in their sides; then there were such rural walks to make love in, take tea or cyder, and smoke a pipe; you know, Mrs. Marigold, you and I have had many a pleasant hour in those gardens during our courting days, when the little naked Cupid used to sit astride of a swan, and the water spouted from its beak as high as themonument; then the grotto was so delightful and natural as life, and the little bridge, and the gold fish hopping about underneath it, made it quite like a terrestrial paradise{2}; but about that time Dr. Whitfield and the Countess of Huntingdon undertook to save the souls of all the sinners, and erected a psalm-singing shop in Tottenham Court Road, where they assembled the pious, and made wry faces at the publicans and sinners, until they managed to turn the heads without turning the hearts of a great number of his majesty's liege subjects, and by the aid of cant and hypocrisy, caused the orthodox religion of the land to be nearly abandoned; but we are beginning to be more enlightened, Mr. Blackmantle, and Understand thesetradingmissionaries andBible merchantsmuch better than they could wish us to have done. Then, sir, the Pantheon, in Spa Fields, was a favourite place of resort for the bucks and gay ladies of the time; and Sadler's Wells and Islington Spa were then in high repute for their mineral waters. At White Conduit House the Jews and Jewesses of the metropolis held their carnival, and city apprentices used to congregate at Dobney's bowling-green, afterwards named, in compliment to Garrick's Stratford procession, the Jubilee tea-gardens; those were the times to grow rich, Mr. Blackmantle, when half-a-crown would cover the day's expenditure of five persons, and behave liberally too."—In our way through Islington, the alderman pointed out to us the place as formerly celebrated for a weekly consumption of cakes and ale; and as we passed through Holloway, informed us that it was in former time equally notorious for its cheese-cakes, the fame of which attracted vast numbers on
2 Upon reference to an old print of Bagnigge Wells, I findthe alderman's description of the place to be a veryfaithful portrait. The Pantheon is still standing, butconverted into a methodist chapel.
the Sunday, who, having satiated themselves with pastry, would continue their rambles to the adjacent places of Hornsey Wood House, Colney Hatch, and Highgate, returning by the way of Hampstead to town.
The topographical reminiscences of the alderman were illustrated as we proceeded by the occasional sallies of Mrs. Marigold's satire: "she could not but regret the depravity of the times, that enabled low shop-keepers and servants to dress equal to their betters: it is now quite impossible to enjoy society and be comfortable in public, without being associated with your tallow-chandler, or your butcher, or take a pleasant drive out of town, without meeting your linen-draper, or your tailor, better mounted or in a more fashionable equipage than yourself."
"All for the good of trade," said the alderman: "it would be very hard indeed if those who enable others to cut a dash all the week could not make a splash themselves on a Sunday; besides, my dear, it's a matter of business now-a-days: many of your kickshaw tradesmen west of Temple Bar find it as necessary to consultappearancesin the park and watch thenew come outs, as I do to watch the stock market: if they find their customers there in good feather and high repute, they venture to cover another leaf in their ledger; but if, on the contrary, they appear shy, only show of a Sunday, and are cut by the nobs, why then they understand it's high time to close the account, and it's very well for them if they are ever able tostrike a balance."
At the conclusion of this colloquy, we had arrived at the Gate House, Highgate, just in time to hear the landlord proclaim that dinner was that moment about to be served up: the civic rank of the alderman did not fail to obtain its due share of servile attention from Boniface, who undertook to escort our party into the room, and having announced the consequenceof his guests, placed the alderman and his family at the head of the table.
I have somewhere read, "there is as much valour expected in feasting as in fighting; "and if any one doubts the truth of the axiom, let him try with a hungry stomach to gratify the cravings of nature at a crowded ordinary—or imagine a well disposed group of twenty persons, all in high appetite and "eager for the fray" sitting down to a repast scantily prepared for just half the number, and crammed into a narrow room, where the waiters are of necessity obliged to wipe every dish against your back, or deposit a portion of gravy in your pocket, to say nothing of the sauce with which a remonstrance is sure to fill both your ears. Most of the company present upon this occasion appeared to have the organs of destructiveness to an extraordinary degree, and mine host of the Gate House, who is considered an excellent physiognomist, looked on with trembling and disastrous countenance, as he marked the eager anxiety of the expectantgourmandssharpening their knives, and spreading their napkins, at the shrine of Sensuality, exhibiting the most voracious symptoms of desire to commence the work of demolition.
A small tureen of mock turtle was half lost on its entrance, by being upset over the leg of a dancing-master, who capered about the room to double quick time, from the effects of a severe scalding; on which the alderman (with a wink) observed, that the gentleman had no doubt caused many acalf s head to danceabout in his time, and now he had met with a rich return. "I'll bring an action against the landlord for the carelessness of his waiter." "You had better not," said the alderman. "Why not, sir?" replied the smarting son of Terpsichore. "Because you have onlyone leg to stand on." This sally produced a general laugh, and restored all to good humour. On the appearance of a fine cod's head and shoulders, therosy gills of Marigold seemed to extend with extatic delight; while a dozen voices assailed him at once with "I'll take fish, if you please." "Ay, but you don't take me for a fag: if you please, gentlemen, I shall help the ladies first, then myself and friend, and afterwards you may divide theomnium and scripjust as you please."
"What a strange animal!" whispered the dancing master to his next neighbour, an old conveyancer. "Yes, sir," replied the man of law, "a city shark, I think, that will swallow all our share of the fish."
"Don't you think, Mr. Alderman," said a lusty lady on the opposite side of the table, "the fish is ratherhigh?"
"No, ma'ain, it's my opinion," (looking at the fragments) "the company will find it rather low."
"Ay, but I mean, Mr. Alderman, it's not sofreshas it might be."
"Why the head did whisper to me, ma'am, that he had not been at sea these ten days; only I thought it rude to repeat what was told me in confidence, and I'm not fond offresh thingsmyself, am I, Mrs. Marigold? Shall I help you to a little fowl, ma'am, a wing, or a merry thought?"
"Egad! Mr. Alderman, you are always ready to assist the company with the latter."
"Yes, ma'am, always happy to help the ladies to a __tit bit: shall I send you therecorder's nose? Bless my heart, how warm it is! Here, Joe, hang my wig behind me, and place that calf's-head before me." (See Plate.)
"Very sorry, ma'am, very sorry indeed," said Mr. Deputy Flambeau to the lady next him, whose silk dress he had just bespattered all over; "could not have supposed this little pig had so much gravy in him," as Lady Macbeth says.
"I wish you'd turn that ere nasty thing right round, Mr. Deputy," growled out a citycostermonger, "'cause my wife's quite alarmed for hergrosede Naples."
"Not towards me, if you please, Mr. Deputy," simpered out Miss Marigold, "because thereby hangs a tail, i.e. (tale)."
"That's my Biddy's ultimatum," said the alderman; "she never makes more than one good joke a day."
"If they are all as good as the last, they deserve the benefit of frequent resurrection, alderman."
"Why so, Mr. Blackmantle?"
"Because they will have the merit of being very funny upon a very grave subject—jeu d'espritsupon our latter end."
"Could you make room for three more gentlemen?" said the waiter, ushering in three woe-begone knights of the trencher, who, having heard the fatal clock strike when at the bottom of the hill, and knowing the punctuality of the house, had toiled upwards with breathless anxiety to be present at the first attack, and arrived at the end of the second course,just in time to be too late. "Confound all clocks and clockmakers! set my watch by Bishopsgate church, and made sure I was a quarter too fast." "Very sorry, gentlemen, very sorry, indeed," said Boniface; "nothing left that is eatable—not a chop or a steak in the house; but there is an excellent ordinary at the Spaniards, about a mile further down the lane; always half an hour later than ours." "Ay, it's a grievous affair, landlord; but howsomdever, if there's nothing to eat, why we must go: we meant to have done you justice to-day—but never mind, we'll be in time for you another Sunday, old gentleman, depend upon it; "and with this significant promise the threehungariansdeparted, not a little disappointed.
"Those three men are no ordinary customers," said our host; "they have done us the honour to dine herebefore, and what is more, of leaving nothingbehind; one of them is the celebrated Yorkshireman, TomCornish, whom General Picton pitted against a Hanoverian glutton to eat for a fortnight, and found, at the end of a week, that he was a whole bullock, besides twelve quartern loaves, and half a barrel of beer, ahead of his antagonist; and if the Hanoverian had not given up, Tom would have eaten the rations of a whole company. His father is said to have been equally gluttonous and penurious, and could eat any given quantity: this person once dining with a member of the Society of Friends, who was also a scion of Elwes' school, after having eat enough for four moderate visitors, re-helped himself, exclaiming, 'You see it's cut and come again with me! 'to which the sectarian gravely replied, 'Friend, cut again thou may'st, but come again thou never shalt.'"
"Ay, that's a very good joke, landlord," said the alderman; "but you know I am up to your jokes: you think these long stories will save your mutton, but there you're wrong—they only give time to take breath; so bring in the sirloin and the saddle of mutton, waiter; and when we've done dinner I'll tell you an anecdote of old Tattersall and his beef-eater, which occurred at this house in a former landlord's time. Come, Mr. Blackmantle, let me send you a slice of the sirloin, and tell us what you think of good eating."
"That the wit of modern times directs all its ragead gulam; and the only inducement to study iserudito luxu, to please the palate, and satisfy the stomach. Even my friend Ebony, the northern light, has cast off the anchorite, and sings thus jollily:
'The science of eating is old,Its antiquity no man can doubt:Though Adam was squeamish, we're told,Eve soon found adainty bitout.'
"We talk of the degeneracy of the moderns, as if men now-a-days were in every respect inferior to theirancestors; but I maintain, and challenge contradiction, that there are many stout rubicund gentlemen in this metropolis that might be backed for eating or drinking with any Bacchanalian or masticator since the days of Adam himself. What wasOffellius Bibulus, the Roman parasite, orSilenus Ebrius, orMilo, who could knock down an ox, and eat him up directly afterwards, compared to Tom Cornish, or Richardson the oyster eater?{3} or what are all these opposed to the Oxonian, who, a short time since, went to the Swan at Bedford, and ordered dinner? a goose being brought, he hacked it in a style at which Mrs. Glass would have fainted; indeed so wretched was the mutilated anatomy, in appearance, from bad carving, that, being perfectly ashamed of it, he seized the moment when some poor mendicant implored his charity at the window, deposited the remains of the goose in his apron, rang the bell, and asked for his bill: the waiter gazed a moment at the empty dish, and then rushing to the landlord, exclaimed, 'Oh! measter, measter, the gentleman eat the goose, bones and all!' and the worthies of Bedford believe the wondrous tale to this day."
To return to Tom Cornish, our host informed us his extraordinary powers of mastication were well known, and dreaded by all the tavern-keeping fraternity who had Sunday ordinaries within ten miles round London, with some of whom he was a regular annuitant, receiving a trifle once a year, in lieu of giving them abenefit, as he terms the filling of his voracious paunch. A story is told of his father, who is said to have kept a very scanty table, that dining one Saturday with
3 In 1762, says Evelyn in his Diary, "one Richardson,amongst other feats, performed the following: taking a livecoal on his tongue, he put on it a raw oyster; the coal wasblown on with a bellows, till it flamed in his mouth, and soremained till the oyster gaped, and was quite boiled."Certainly the most simple of all cooking apparatus.
his son at an ordinary in Cambridge, he whispered in his ear, "Tom, you must eat for to-day and to-morrow." "O yes," retorted the half-starved lad, "but I han't eaten for yesterday, and the day before yet, father." In short, Tom makes but one hearty meal in a week, and that one might serve a troop of infantry to digest. The squalling of an infant at the lower end of the room, whose papa was vainly endeavouring to pacify the young gourmand with huge spoonfuls of mock-turtle, drew forth an observation from the alderman, that had well nigh disturbed the entire arrangement of the table, and broke up the harmony of the scene "with most admired disorder;" for on the head of the Marigold family likening the youngster's noise to a chamber organ, and quaintly observing that they always had music during dinner at Fishmongers' Hall, the lady mother of the infant, a jolly dame, who happened to be engaged in the shell fish line, took the allusion immediately to herself, and commenced such a furious attack upon the alderman as proved her having been regularly matriculated at the college in Thames Street.
When the storm subsided the ladies had vanished, and the alderman moved an adjournment to what he termed thesnuggery, a pleasant little room on the first floor, which commanded a delightful prospect over the adjacent country. Here we were joined by three eccentric friends of the Marigold family, who came on the special invitation of the alderman, Mr. Peter Pendragon, a celebrated city punster, Mr. Philotus Wantley, a vegetable dieter, and Mr. Galen Cornaro, an abominator of wine, and a dyspeptic follower of Kitchener and Abernethy—a trio of singularities that would afford excellent materials for my friend Richard Peake, the dramatist, in mixing up a newmonopolyloguefor that facetious child of whim and wit, the inimitable Charles Mathews. Our first story, while the wine was decantering, proceeded from thealderman, who having been driven from the dinner table somewhat abruptly by the amiablecaro sposaof the fish-merchant, had failed in giving us his promised anecdote of old Tattersall and his beef-eater. "I have dined with him often in this house," said the alderman, "in my earlier days, and a pleasant, jovial, kindhearted fellow he was, one who would ride a long race to be present at a good joke, and never so happy as when he could trot a landlord, or knock down an argument monger with his own weapons. The former host of the Gate House was a bit of a screw, and old Tat knew this; so calling in one day, as if by accident, Tat sat him down to a cold round of beef, by way of luncheon, and having taken some half ounce of the meat, with a few pickles, requested to know what he had to pay for his eating. 'Three shillings, sir,' said the waiter. 'Three devils!' ejaculated Tat, with strong symptoms of surprise, for in those days three shillings would have nearly purchased the whole round: 'send in your master.' In walks the host, and Tat renewed his question, receiving in reply a reiteration of the demand, but accompanied with this explanation, that peck high or peck low, it was all the same price: 'in short, sir,' said the host, 'I keep this house, and I mean the house should keep me, and the only way I find to insure that is to make the short stomachs pay for the long ones.' 'Very well,' said Tat, paying the demand, 'I shall remember this, and bring a friend to dine with you another day.' At this time Tat had in his employ a fellow called Oxford Will, notorious for his excessive gluttony, a very famine breeder, who had won several matches by eating for a wager, and who had obtained the appellation of Tattersall's beef-eater. This fellow Tat dressed in decent style, and fixing him by his side in the chaise, drove up to the Gate House on a Sunday to dine at the ordinary, taking care to be in excellent time, and making a previous appointment with a few friendsto enjoy the joke. At dinner Will was, by arrangement, placed in the chair, and being well instructed and prepared for execution, was ably supported by Tat and his friends: the host, too, who was in excellent humour, quite pleased to see such a numerous and respectable party, apologised repeatedly, observing that he would have provided more abundantly had he known of the intended honour: in this way all things proceeded very pleasantly with the first course, Will not caring to make any very wonderful display of his masticatory prowess with either of theunsubstantials, fish or soup; but when a fineaitch-boneof beef came before the gourmand, he stuck his fork into the centre, and, unheedful of the ravenous solicitations of those around him requesting a slice, proceeded to demolish the whole joint, with as much celerity as the hyena would the harmless rabbit: the company stared with astonishment; the landlord, to whom the waiters had communicated the fact, entered the room in breathless haste; and on observing the empty dish, and hearing Will direct the waiter to take away the bone and bring him a clean plate, was apparently thunder-struck: but how much was his astonishment increased upon perceiving Will help himself to a fine young turkey, stuffed with sausages, which he proceeded to dissect with anatomical ability, and by this time the company understanding the joke, he was allowed uninterruptedly to deposit it in his immense capacious receptacle, denominated by old Tat thefathomless vacuum. Hitherto the company had been so completely electrified by the extra-ordinary powers of the glutton, that astonishment had for a short time suspended the activity of appetite, as one great operation of nature will oftentimes paralyze the lesser affections of the body; but, as Will became satisfied, the remainder of the party, stimulated by certain compunctious visitings of nature, called cravings of the stomach, gave evident symptoms ofa very opposite nature: in vain the landlord stated his inability to produce more viands, he had no other provisions in the house, it was the sabbath-day, and the butchers' shops were shut, not a chop or a steak could be had: here Will feigned to join his affliction with the rest—he could have enjoyed a little snack more, by way of finish. This was the climax; the party, according to previous agreement, determined to proceed to the next inn to obtain a dinner; the landlord's remonstrance was perfectly nugatory; they all departed, leaving Tat and his man to settle with the infuriated host; and when the bill was brought in they refused to pay one sixpence more than the usual demand of three shillings each, repeating the landlord's own words, that peck high or peck low, it was all the same price."
With the first glass of wine came the inspiring toast of "The Ladies," to which Mr. Philotus Wantley demurred, not on account of the sex, for he could assure us he was a fervent admirer, but having studied the wise maxims of Pythagoras, and being a disciple of the Brahma school, abominators of flesh and strong liquors, he hoped to be excused, by drinking the ladies inaqua pura.—" Water is a monstrous drink for Christians!" said the alderman, "the sure precursor of coughs, colds, consumptions, agues, dropsies, pleurisies, and spleen. I never knew a water-drinker in my life that was ever a fellow of any spirit, mere morbid anatomies, starvelings and hypochondriacs: your water-drinkers never die of old age, but melancholy."—"Right, right, alderman," said Mr. Pendragon; "a cup of generous wine is, in my opinion, excellent physic; it makes a man lean, and reduces him to friendly dependence on every thing that bars his way: sometimes it is a little grating to his feelings, to be sure, but it generally passes off with an hic-cup. According to Galen, sir, the waters ofAstracanbreed worms in those who taste them; thoseofVerduri, the fairest river in Macedonia, make the cattle who drink of them black, while those of Peleca, in Thessaly, turn every thing white; and Bodine states that the stuttering of the families of Aquatania, about Labden, is entirely owing to their being water-drinkers: a man might as well drink of the river Styx as the river Thames, 'Stygio monstrum conforme paludi,' a monstrous drink, thickened by the decomposition of dead Christians and dead brutes, and purified by the odoriferous introduction of gas water and puddle water, joined to a pleasant and healthy amalgamation of all the impurities of the common sewers.