Chapter 46

Sir Jeffery Dunstan, M. P. for Garrett,COSMOPOLITE, AND MUFFIN-SELLER.

The individual who figured as conspicuously as the most conspicuous, and who may be regarded as the last reallyhumorouscandidate at this election was

Sir Jeffery Dunstan, M. P. for Garrett,AND ITINERANT DEALER IN OLD WIGS.

The kind of oratory and the nature of the argument employed by the candidates in their addresses to their constituents, can scarcely be better exemplified than by the following

My Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen,

Alanded property being the only unexceptionable qualification that entitles me to a seat in the august parliament of Great Britain, I presume my estate in the Isle of Mud will, in point of propriety, secure to me your votes and interests, to represent you in the ensuing parliament.

Ladies and gem’men, I propose, for the good of mankind, to anticipate a few promises like other great men, but which I will strictly adhere to, that is, as long as I find it’s my interest so to do.

First, in regard to his Majesty’s want of money, I am determined to make him easy on that point—(Lord bless him!)—by abolishing the use of it entirely, and reducing the price of gold, it being the worst canker to the soul of man; and the only expedient I can think of to prevent bribery and corruption, an evil which all the greatbig wigsof Westminster cannot prevent, notwithstanding all their gravity and knowledge, as the late proceedings against governor Green Peas can fully testify.

Next, as my worthy constituents may be assured, I shall use all my honest endeavours to get a majority in the house. I shall always take the popular side of the question; and to do all I can to oblige that jewel of a man, Sugar-Plumb Billy, I shall assist him in paying off the national debt, without wetting a sponge. My scheme for this, ladies and gem’men, is to unmarry all those who choose it, on such terms as the minister shall think fit. This being a glorious opportunity for women of spirit to exert themselves, and regain their long lost empire over their husbands, I hope they will use all their coaxing arts to get me elected in their husband’s place; and this will greatly increase the influence of the crown, and vastly lower India bonds.

As I detest the idea of a placeman, I pledge myself not to accept of anything less than the government of Duck Island, or the bishoprick of Durham, for I am very fond of a clean shirt, and lawn sleeves, I think, look well; besides, thesine qua nonis the thing I aim at, like other great men. The India Company, too, I will convey from Leadenhall-street to Westminster, and, according to my ownwigprinciples, I will create all the directors’ and nabobs’ titles, and, besides, show them how to get what they have been long aiming at—the way to Botany Bay. I shall likewise prove the Excise Office to be the greatest smuggle in the nation, for they smuggled the ground from the public on which their office stands, and for which I shall conjure up Old Gresham’s ghost, to read them a lecture upon thieving.

Like the great men, I pledge my honour, life, and fortune, that I will remove all heavy taxes, and by a glorious scheme, contrived by me and my friend Lord George Gordon, I shall, by a philosophical, aristocratical thermometer, or such-like hydraulics, discover the longitude among the Jews of Duke’s Place, and the secret of Masonry.

City honours I never courted, nor would I give anold wigto be drawn in idle state through Cheapside’s foggy air on a 9th of November.—No, I would rather sit by the side of my great friend Mr. Fox, in the Duke of Devonshire’s coach, and make another coalition, or go with him to India, and be a governor’s great man; for,

Hated by fools, and fools to hate,Was always Jeffery Dunstan’s fate.

Though my Lord George has turned Jew, and wears a broom about hischin[221], I never intend to do so until his informer is dead, or the time elapsed of his imprisonment in the county castle, when we shall both go into Duke’s Place, and be sworn true friends; then woe be to the informing busy bookseller of Spitalfields, who was lately turned out of the Snogo for eating pork with the rind on. Depend upon it his windows shall chatter more Hebrew than he ever understood. All this shall be done by me, in spite of him. Yes, by me, your humble servant,

Sir Jeffery Dunstan, M.P.

TAKE NOTICE.

Whereas, on or upon the last page but one of the last sheet, that is to say,columns 829and830of theEvery-Day Book, there aretwowhole length portraits, each whereof is subscribed, or inscribed beneath, withonename.

And whereaseach, and both, is and are, thereby, that is to say, by the saidonename, called, or purported to be called, “SirJeffery Dunstan, M.P. for Garrett, &c.”

And whereasthe said two engravings are portraits of two several, separate, and distinct individuals.

And whereasit is hereby declared to be true and certain, and not to be gainsayed or denied, thattwoneither are, nor is, nor can be, one.

Therefore,All whom it may concernare hereby intended, and required to be instructed, and informed thereof.

And further, that the first, or top, or uppermost portrait, although subscribed “Sir Jeffery Dunstan, &c.” is to be seen, taken, and received, as and for the true and faithful likeness of sirHarry Dimsdale, Bart. M.P. for Garrett, and for no or none other.

And furthermore, that the second, or last portrait is, in truth, a like true, and faithful likeness ofsir Jeffery Dunstan, as is there truly stated:

And more, furthermore, that the misnomer, as to the saidSir Harry Dimsdale, was unpurposed and accidentally made and written by the undersigned, and overseen by the overseer, when the same was set up or composed in type by the compositor; and that he, the said compositor, was bound in duty not to think, but unthinkingly, and without thought, to do as he did, that is to say, follow his copy, and not think:

And lastly, that thelastportrait, subscribed “SirJeffery Dunstan,” is rightly and truly so subscribed:

Wherefore, the portrait of the “cosmopolite and muffin seller,” was, and is, only, and alone, and no other, than the just and faithful likeness of sirHarry Dimsdale, according, and notwithstanding as aforesaid.

And therefore, the well-disposed are enjoined and required todele, or strike out, the misnomer thereof, or thereto affixed, and in tender consideration of the premises to forget and forgive the same, which proceeded wholly, solely, entirely, and unhappily from

A. B.

June 28, 1826.

Attestation, &c.

This is to certify, that so much of the above contents as are within my knowledge, and the whole thereof, according to my full and perfect belief, is, and are, strictly and entirely true: And that the signature thereto subjoined is true and honest, in manner and form following, to wit,—the letter “A” is, of itself alone, what it purports to be, that is to say, “A,” by itself, “A;” And the letter “B,” in alphabetical order, is, also in nominal order, the literal beginning, or initial, of the realname, which is, or ought, or is meant to be attached thereto,namely—“Blunder:” And that the said “Blunder” is altogether honest, and much to be pitied; and is known so to be, by every one as well acquainted with the said “Blunder,” and the rest of the family, asmyself.—

The Printer.

This is the burlesque election referred to atcolumn 825, when “upwards of 50,000 people were, on that ludicrous occasion, assembled at Wandsworth.”

That notice, with the interesting letter concerning the origin of this popular custom, from Mr. Massey to Dr. Ducarel, oncolumn 826, was inserted with other particulars, in the last sheet, for the purpose of inciting attention to the subject and under an expectation that the request there urged, for further information, might be further complied with. The hope has been realized to a certain extent, and there will now be placed before the reader the communications of correspondents, and whatever has been obtained from personal intercourse with those who remember the old elections for Garrett.

To mention the earliest within remembrance, it is proper to say that this public burlesque was conducted in 1777 with great spirit; sir John Harper was then elected, and a man in armour rode in that procession. The name of this champion was “Jem Anderson,” a breeches-maker of Wandsworth, and a wonderful humorist.

At sir John Harper’s election, on the 25th of June, 1781, he had six rivals to contend with. A printed bill now before the editor, sets forth their titles and qualifications in the followingmanner:—

“THE GARRATT ELECTION.

“The Possessions and Characters of the Seven Candidates that put up for that Great and Important Office, called

THE MAYOR OF GARRETT.

“Sir Jeffery Dunstan, sir William Blase, sir Christopher Dashwood, sir John Harper, sir William Swallowtail, sir John Gnawpost, and sir ThomasNameless.

“On Wednesday, the 25th instant, being the day appointed for the Garrat election, the candidates proceeded from different parts of London to Garrat-green, Wandsworth.

“Sir Jeffery Dunstan: he is a man of low stature, but very great in character and abilities; his principal view is to serve his king and country, his worthy friends and himself.

“The next gentleman that offered himself was sir William Blase, a man of great honour and reputation, and was of high rank in the army, serving his king and country near forty years, and had the honour to be a corporal in the city trainbands, the last rebellion.

“The third, admiral Dashwood, well known in the county of Surry, to many who has felt the weight of his hand on their shoulders, and shewing an execution in the other.

“Sir John Harper is a man of the greatest abilities and integrity, and his estate lies wherever he goes; his wants are supplied by the oil of his tongue, and is of the strictest honour: he made an oath against work when in his youth, and was never known to break it.

“Sir William Swallow-tail is an eminent merchant in the county of Surry, and supplies most of the gardeners with strawberry-baskets, and others to bring their fruit to market.

“Sir John Gnawpost is a man well known to the public; he carries his traffic under his left arm, and there is not a schoolboy in London or Westminster but what has had dealings with him:—His general cry is ‘twenty if you win, and five if you lose.’

“Sir ThomasNameless,”—of reputation unmentionable.

Having thus described the candidates from the original printed “Hustings paper,” it is proper to state that its description of them is followed by a woodcut representing two figures—one, of sir Jeffery Dunstan, in the costume and attitude of his portrait given atcolumn 830, but holding a pipe in his right hand, and one of another candidate, who, for want of a name to the figure, can scarcely be guessed at; he is in a court dress, with a star on the right breast of his coat, his right arm gracefully reposing in the pocket of his unmentionables, and his left hand holding a bag, which is thrown over his left shoulder.

Beneath that engraving is

“The speech of sirJeffery Dunstan, Bart. delivered from the hustings.

“Gentlemen,

“I am heartily glad to see so great a number of my friends attend so early on the great and important business of this day. If I should be so happy as to be the object of your choice, you may depend on it that your great requests shall be my sole study both asleep and awake. I am determined to oppose lord N(ort)h in every measure he proposes; and that my electors shall have porter at threepence a pot; that bread shall be sold at four pence a quartern loaf, and corn be brought fairly to market, not stived up in granaries to be eat by rats and mice; and that neither Scotchmen or Irishmen shall have a seat in our parliament.

“Gentlemen, as I am not an orator or personable man, be assured I am an honest member. Having been abused in the public papers, I am resolved, if it cost me a thousand pounds, to take the free votes of the electors. It is true, it has cost meten shillingsfor a coach, to raise which, I have pawned my cloathes; but that I regard not, since I am now in a situation to serve my king, whom I wish God to bless, also his precious queen, who, under the blessing of a king above, hath produced a progeny which has presaged a happy omen to this country.

“Gentlemen, I can assure you with the greatest truth, that the cloaths I have on are all my own, for the meanness of borrowing cloaths to appear before you, my worthy electors, I highly detest; and bribery and other meanness I abhor;—butif any gentleman chuse to give me any thing, I am ready to receive their favours.”

The above oration is headed by “This is my original speech;” below it is added asfollows:—

“N. B. When sir John Harper’s man arrived on the hustings with flying colours, he began to insult sir Jeffery, who immediately made him walk six times round the hustings, ask his honour’s pardon, drop his colours and dismount.”

With this information the bill concludes.

A song printed at the time, but now so rare as not to be met with, further particularizes some of the candidates at this election. In the absence of an original copy, the parol evidence of “old John Jones of Wandsworth,” has been admitted as to certain verses which are here recorded accordingly.

Garrett Election Song, 1781.Recited by the“ex-master of the horse,”at the“Plume of Feathers,”Wandsworth,on the 14th of June, 1826.At Garratt, lackaday, what fun!To see the sight what thousands run!Sir William Blase, and all his crew,Sure, it was a droll sight to view.Sir William Blase, a snob by trade,In Wandsworth town did there parade;With his high cap and wooden swordHe look’d as noble as a lord!Sir William Swallowtail came nextIn basket-coach, so neatly drest;With hand-bells playing all the way,For Swallowtail, my boys, huzza!Sir Christopher Dashwood so gay,With drums and fifes did sweetly play;He, in a boat, was drawn along,Amongst a mighty gazing throng.In blue and gold he grand appeared,Behind the boat old Pluto steer’d;The Andrew, riding by his side,Across a horse, did nobly stride.On sir John Harper next we gazeAll in his carriage, and six bays,With star upon his breast, so fine,He did each candidate outshine.And when he on the hustings cameHe bow’d to all in gallant strain,The speech he made was smart and cute,And did each candidate confute.In this procession to excel,The droll sir William acted well;And when they came to Garrett green,Sure what laughing there was seen!No Wilkes, but liberty, was there;And every thing honest and fair,For surely Garrett is the place,Where pleasure is, and no disgrace!

Garrett Election Song, 1781.

Recited by the“ex-master of the horse,”at the“Plume of Feathers,”Wandsworth,on the 14th of June, 1826.

At Garratt, lackaday, what fun!To see the sight what thousands run!Sir William Blase, and all his crew,Sure, it was a droll sight to view.Sir William Blase, a snob by trade,In Wandsworth town did there parade;With his high cap and wooden swordHe look’d as noble as a lord!Sir William Swallowtail came nextIn basket-coach, so neatly drest;With hand-bells playing all the way,For Swallowtail, my boys, huzza!Sir Christopher Dashwood so gay,With drums and fifes did sweetly play;He, in a boat, was drawn along,Amongst a mighty gazing throng.In blue and gold he grand appeared,Behind the boat old Pluto steer’d;The Andrew, riding by his side,Across a horse, did nobly stride.On sir John Harper next we gazeAll in his carriage, and six bays,With star upon his breast, so fine,He did each candidate outshine.And when he on the hustings cameHe bow’d to all in gallant strain,The speech he made was smart and cute,And did each candidate confute.In this procession to excel,The droll sir William acted well;And when they came to Garrett green,Sure what laughing there was seen!No Wilkes, but liberty, was there;And every thing honest and fair,For surely Garrett is the place,Where pleasure is, and no disgrace!

At Garratt, lackaday, what fun!To see the sight what thousands run!Sir William Blase, and all his crew,Sure, it was a droll sight to view.

Sir William Blase, a snob by trade,In Wandsworth town did there parade;With his high cap and wooden swordHe look’d as noble as a lord!

Sir William Swallowtail came nextIn basket-coach, so neatly drest;With hand-bells playing all the way,For Swallowtail, my boys, huzza!

Sir Christopher Dashwood so gay,With drums and fifes did sweetly play;He, in a boat, was drawn along,Amongst a mighty gazing throng.

In blue and gold he grand appeared,Behind the boat old Pluto steer’d;The Andrew, riding by his side,Across a horse, did nobly stride.

On sir John Harper next we gazeAll in his carriage, and six bays,With star upon his breast, so fine,He did each candidate outshine.

And when he on the hustings cameHe bow’d to all in gallant strain,The speech he made was smart and cute,And did each candidate confute.

In this procession to excel,The droll sir William acted well;And when they came to Garrett green,Sure what laughing there was seen!

No Wilkes, but liberty, was there;And every thing honest and fair,For surely Garrett is the place,Where pleasure is, and no disgrace!

Sir William Swallowtail was one William Cock, a whimsical basket-maker of Brentford, who deeming it proper to have an equipage every way suitable to the honour he aspired to, built his own carriage, with his own hands, to his own taste. It was made of wicker, and drawn by four high hollow-backed horses; whereon were seated dwarfish boys, whimsically dressed for postilions. In allusion to the American war, two footmen rode before the carriage tarred and feathered, the coachman wore a wicker hat, and sir William himself, from the seat of his vehicle, maintained his mock dignity in grotesque array, amidst unbounded applause.

The song says, that sir William Swallowtail came “with hand-bells playing all the way,” and “old John Jones,” after he “rehearsed” the song, gave some account of the player on the hand-bells.

The hand-bell player was Thomas Cracknell, who, at that time, was a publican at Brentford, and kept the “Wilkes’s Head.” He had been a cow-boy in the service of lady Holderness; and after he took that public-house, he so raised its custom that it was a place of the first resort in Brentford “for man and horse.” With an eye to business, as well as a disposition to waggery, he played the hand-bells in support of sir William Swallowtail, as much for the good of the “Wilkes’s Head” as in honour of his neighbour Cock, the basket-maker, who, with his followers, had opened Cracknell’s house. Soon after the election he let the “Wilkes’s Head,” and receiving a handsome sum for good-will and coming-in, bound himself in a penalty of 20l.not to set up within ten miles of the spot. In the afternoon of the day he gave up possession, he went to his successor with the 20l.penalty, and informed him he had taken another house in the neighbourhood. It was the sign of the “Aaron and Driver,” two race-horses, of as great celebrity as the most favoured of the then Garrett candidates. Cracknell afterwards became a rectifier or distiller at Brentford.

Sir John Harper was by trade a weaver, and qualified, by power of face andspeech, and infinite humour, to sustain the burlesque character he assumed. His chief pretensions to represent Garrett were grounded on his reputation, circulated in printed hand-bills, which described him as a “rectifier of mistakes and blunders.” He made his grand entry through Wandsworth, into Garrett, in a phaeton and six bays, with postilions in scarlet and silver, surrounded by thousands of supporters, huzzaing, and declaring him to be “able to give any man an answer.”

Sir John Harper’s Election, 1781.Long as we live there’ll be no moreSuch scenes as these, in days of yore,When little folks deem’d great ones less,And aped their manners and address;When, further still to counterfeit,To mountebanks they gave a seat,By virtue of a mobbing summons,As members of the House of Commons.Through Garrett, then, a cavalcade,A long procession, longer made.For why, the way was not so wideThat horsemen, there, abreast, could ride,As they had rode, when they came down,In order due, to Wandsworth town;Whence, to the Leather Bottle driven,With shouts that rent the welkin given,And given also, many blowsIn strife, the great “Sir John” aroseOn high, in high phaeton, stood,And pledged his last, best, drop of blood,As sure as he was “Harper,” toUndo all things that wouldn’t do,And vow’d he’d do, as well as undo,He’d do—in short, he’d do—what none do:Although his speech, precisely, isUnknown, yet here, concisely, isRelated all, which, sought with pains,Is found to be the last remains,Of all, at Garrett, done and said;And more than elsewhere can be read.

Sir John Harper’s Election, 1781.

Long as we live there’ll be no moreSuch scenes as these, in days of yore,When little folks deem’d great ones less,And aped their manners and address;When, further still to counterfeit,To mountebanks they gave a seat,By virtue of a mobbing summons,As members of the House of Commons.Through Garrett, then, a cavalcade,A long procession, longer made.For why, the way was not so wideThat horsemen, there, abreast, could ride,As they had rode, when they came down,In order due, to Wandsworth town;Whence, to the Leather Bottle driven,With shouts that rent the welkin given,And given also, many blowsIn strife, the great “Sir John” aroseOn high, in high phaeton, stood,And pledged his last, best, drop of blood,As sure as he was “Harper,” toUndo all things that wouldn’t do,And vow’d he’d do, as well as undo,He’d do—in short, he’d do—what none do:Although his speech, precisely, isUnknown, yet here, concisely, isRelated all, which, sought with pains,Is found to be the last remains,Of all, at Garrett, done and said;And more than elsewhere can be read.

The precedingengravingis from a large drawing, by Green, of a scene at this election in 1781, taken on the spot. Until now, this drawing has not been submitted to the public eye.

In the above accurate representation of the spot, the sign of the Leather Bottle in Garrett-lane is conspicuous. Its site at that time was different from that of the present public-house bearing that name.

It is further observable, that “Harper for ever” is inscribed on the phaeton of the mock candidate for the mock honours of the mock electors; and that the candidate himself is in the act of haranguing his worthy constituents, some of whose whimsical dresses will give a partial idea of the whimsical appearance of the assembled multitude. Every species of extravagant habiliment seems to have been resorted to. The little humourist in a large laced cocked hat, and his donkey in trappings, are particularly rich, and divide the attention of the people on foot with sir John Harper himself. The vender of a printed paper, in a large wig, leers round at him in merry glee. The sweeps, elevated on their bit of “come-up,” are attracted by the popular candidate, whose voice seems rivalled by the patient animal, from whose back they are cheering their favourite man.

In this election, we find the never-to-be-forgotten sir Jeffery Dunstan, who it is not right to pass without saying something more of him than that on this occasion he was a mere candidate, and unsuccessful. He succeeded afterwards to the seat he sought, and will be particularly noticed hereafter; until when, it would perhaps be more appropriate to defer what is about to be offered respecting him; but the distinguished favour of a communication from C. L. on such a subject, seems to require a distinguished place; his paper is therefore selected to prematurely herald the fame of the celebrated crier of “old wigs” in odd fashioned days, when wigs were a common and necessary addition to every person’s dress.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

To your account of sir Jeffery Dunstan incolumns 829-30(where, by an unfortunate Erratum the effigies oftwo Sir Jefferysappear, when the uppermost figure is clearly meant for sir Harry Dimsdale) you may add, that the writer of this has frequently met him in his latter days, about 1790 or 1791, returning in an evening, after his long day’s itinerancy, to his domicile—a wretched shed in the most beggarly purlieu of Bethnal Green, a little on this side the Mile-end Turnpike. The lower figure in that leaf most correctly describes his then appearance, except that no graphic art can convey an idea of the general squalor of it, and of his bag (his constant concomitant) in particular. Whether it contained “old wigs” at that time I know not, but it seemed a fitter repository for bones snatched out of kennels, than for any part of a Gentleman’s dress even at second hand.

The Ex-member for Garrat was a melancholy instance of a great man whose popularity is worn out. He still carried his sack, but it seemed a part of his identity rather than an implement of his profession; a badge of past grandeur; could any thing have divested him ofthat, he would have shown a “poorforked animal” indeed. My life upon it, it contained no curls at the time I speak of. The most decayed and spiritless remnants of what was once a peruke would have scorned the filthy case; would absolutely have “burst its cearments.” No, it was empty, or brought home bones, or a few cinders possibly. A strong odour of burnt bones, I remember, blended with the scent of horse-flesh seething into dog’s meat, and only relieved a little by the breathings of a few brick kilns, made up the atmosphere of the delicate suburban spot, which this great man had chosen for the last scene of his earthly vanities. The cry of “old wigs” had ceased with the possession of any such fripperies; his sack might have contained not unaptly a little mould to scatter upon that grave, to which he was now advancing; but it told of vacancy and desolation. His quips were silent too, and his brain was empty as his sack; he slank along, and seemed to decline popular observation. If a few boys followed him, it seemed rather from habit, than any expectation of fun.

Alas! how changed fromhim,The life of humour, and the soul of whim,Gallant and gay on Garrat’s hustings proud.

But it is thus that the world rewards its favourites in decay. What faults he had, I know not. I have heard something of a peccadillo or so. But some little deviation from the precise line of rectitude, might have been winked at in so tortuous and stigmatic a frame. Poor Sir Jeffery! it were well if some M. P.’s in earnest have passed their parliamentary existence with no more offences against integrity, than could be laid to thy charge! A fair dismissal was thy due, not so unkind a degradation; some little snug retreat, with a bit of green before thine eyes, and not a burial alive in the fetid beggaries of Bethnal. Thou wouldst have ended thy days in a manner more appropriate to thy pristine dignity, installed in munificent mockery (as in mock honours you had lived)—a Poor Knight of Windsor!

Every distinct place of public speaking demands an oratory peculiar to itself. The forensic fails within the walls of St. Stephen. Sir Jeffery was a living instance of this, for in the flower of his popularity an attempt was made to bring him out upon the stage (at which of the winter theatres I forget, but I well remember the anecdote) in the part ofDoctorLast.[222]The announcement drew a crowded house; but notwithstanding infinite tutoring—by Foote, or Garrick, I forget which—when the curtain drew up, the heart of Sir Jeffery failed, and he faultered on, and made nothing of his part, till the hisses of the house at last in very kindness dismissed him from the boards. Great as his parliamentary eloquence had shown itself; brilliantly as his off-hand sallies had sparkled on a hustings; they here totally failed him. Perhaps he had an aversion to borrowed wit; and, like my Lord Foppington, disdained to entertain himself (or others) with the forced products of another man’s brain. Your man of quality is more diverted with the natural sprouts of his own.

C. L.

Almost all that can be said of the oath of qualification, administered to the electors at the Garrett hustings, has been already said in theletterto Dr. Ducarel, oncolumn 826. It was printed, and from one of these once manifold documents, which are now so rare as not to be attainable in a perfect state, the following title, &c. is copied literally.

“TheOATHofQualificationfor theAncient Borough ofGARRATAccording as it stands in theOld Record handed down to usBy theGrand Volgeeby order of the GreatCHIN KAW CHIPOFirstEmperorof theMoonAnno Mundi 75.

“Thatyou have been admitted peaceably and quietly into possession of aFreehold—

****

[Here the original, referred to, is so defective as not to be copyable.]

****

——“within the said manor ofGarrat; and that you did (bona fide) keep(ad rem) possession —— (durante bene placito) without any let, suit, hindrance, or molestation whatever ——

****

“Sworn(coram nobis) at ourGreat Hall on Garrat Green,covered with the plenteous harvestof the Goddess Ceres, and dedi-cated to the Jovial God Comus.”}

“Sworn(coram nobis) at ourGreat Hall on Garrat Green,covered with the plenteous harvestof the Goddess Ceres, and dedi-cated to the Jovial God Comus.”

}

More than this it is not possible to give of the Garrett oath.

During a Garrett election all Wandsworth was in an uproar. It was the resort of people of all descriptions, and the publicans entertained them as conveniently as possible; yet, on one occasion, the influx of visiters was so immense that every ordinary beverage was exhausted, and water sold at twopence a glass.

By “old John Jones,” “the doings at Wandsworth” on the election day are described as “past description.”

Besides the “hustings” at Garrett, scaffoldings and booths were erected in Wandsworth at every open space: these were filled with spectators to the topmost rows, and boys climbed to the tops of the poles; flags and colours were hung across the road; and the place was crowded by a dense population full of activity and noise. For accommodation to view the humours of the day extraordinary prices were paid to the proveditors.

John Jones remembers “when Foote the player came to Wandsworth, to have a full view of all the goings on.” According to his account, the English Aristophanes “paid nine guineas for the fore room at surgeon Squire’s, facing the church, for himself and his friends to sit in and see the fun.” There was an immense scaffolding of spectators and mob-orators, at the corner by the churchyard, opposite the window where Foote and his companions were seated.

It has been already noticed, that Foote dramatised this mock election by his “Mayor of Garratt:” the first edition, printed in 1764, is called “a comedy in two acts; as it is performed at the theatre-royal in Drury-lane.” On turning to the “dramatis personæ,” it will be found he performed Major Sturgeon himself, and, likewise, Matthew Mug in the same piece: Mrs. Clive playing Mrs. Sneak to Weston’s Jerry Sneak.

Foote’s “Mayor of Garratt” may be deemed an outline of the prevailing drollery and manners of the populace at Wandsworth: a scene or two here will be amusing and in place. This dramatist sketched so much from the life, that it is doubtful whether every marked character in his “comedy” had not its living original. It is certain, that he drew Major Sturgeon from old Justice Lamb, a fishmonger at Acton, and a petty trading justice, whose daughter was married by Major Fleming, a gentleman also “in the commission of the peace,” yet every way a more respectable man than his father-in-law.

Referring, then, to Foote’s “comedy,” sir Jacob Jollup, who has a house at Garratt, holds a dialogue with his man Roger concerning the company theyexpect—

Sir J.Are the candidates near upon coming?

Roger.Nic Goose, the tailor from Putney, they say, will be here in a crack, sir Jacob.

Sir J.Has Margery fetch’d in the linen?

Roger.Yes, sir Jacob.

Sir J.Are the pigs and the poultry lock’d up in the barn?

Roger.Safe, sir Jacob.

Sir J.And the plate and spoons in the pantry?

Roger.Yes, sir Jacob.

Sir J.Then give me the key; the mob will soon be upon us; and all is fish that comes to their net. Has Ralph laid the cloth in the hall?

Roger.Yes, sir Jacob.

Sir J.Then let him bring out the turkey and chine, and be sure there is plenty of mustard; and, d’ye hear, Roger, do you stand yourself at the gate, and be careful who you let in.

Roger.I will, sir Jacob.[exit.

Sir J.So, now I believe thing: are prettysecure.—

Mob.[Without.] Huzza!

Re-enter Roger.

Sir J.What’s the matter now, Roger?

Roger.The electors desire to know ifyour worship has any body to recommend?

Sir J.By no means; let them be free in their choice: I shan’t interfere.

Roger.And if your worship has any objection to Crispin Heeltap, the cobler, being returning officer?

Sir J.None, provided the rascal can keep himself sober. Is he there?

Roger.Yes, sir Jacob. Make way there! stand further off from the gate: here is madam Sneak in a chaise along with her husband.

Sir Jacob has work enough on his hands with his relations, and other visiters, who have arrived to see the election from his mansion; he calls his “son Bruin” to come in;—“we are all seated at table man; we have but just time for a snack; the candidates are near upon coming.”

Then, in anotherscene,—

Enter Mob, with Heeltap at their head; some crying “a Goose,” others “a Mug,” others “a Primmer.”

Heel.Silence, there; silence!

1 Mob.Hear neighbour Heeltap.

2 Mob.Ay, ay, hear Crispin.

3 Mob.Ay, ay, hear him, hear Crispin: he will put us into the model of the thing at once.

Heel.Why then, silence! I say.

All.Silence.

Heel.Silence, and let us proceed, neighbours, with all the decency and confusion usual on these occasions.

1 Mob.Ay, ay, there is no doing without that.

All.No, no, no.

Heel.Silence then, and keep the peace; what! is there no respect paid to authority? Am not I the returning officer?

All.Ay, ay, ay.

Heel.Chosen by yourselves, and approved of by sir Jacob?

All.True, true.

Heel.Well then, be silent and civil; stand back there that gentleman without a shirt, and make room for your betters. Where’s Simon Snuffle the sexton?

Snuffle.Here.

Heel.Let him come forward; we appoint him our secretary: for Simon is a scollard, and can read written hand; and so let him be respected accordingly.

3 Mob.Room for master Snuffle.

Heel.Here, stand by me: and let us, neighbours, proceed to open the premunire of the thing: but first, your reverence to the lord of the manor: a long life and a merry one to our landlord, sir Jacob huzza!

Mob.Huzza!

Sneak.How fares it, honest Crispin?

Heel.Servant, master Sneak. Let us now open the premunire of the thing, which I shall do briefly, with all the loquacity possible; that is, in a medium way; which, that we may the better do it, let the secretary read the names of the candidates, and what they say for themselves; and then we shall know what to say of them. Master Snuffle, begin.

Snuffle.[Reads.] “To the worthy inhabitants of the ancient corporation of Garratt: gentlemen, your votes and interest are humbly requested in favour of Timothy Goose, to succeed your late worthy mayor, Mr. Richard Dripping, in the said office, hebeing”——

Heel.This Goose is but a kind of gosling, a sort of sneaking scoundrel. Who is he?

Snuffle.A journeyman tailor from Putney.

Heel.A journeyman tailor! A rascal, has he the impudence to transpire to be mayor? D’ye consider, neighbours, the weight of this office? Why, it is a burthen for the back of a porter; and can you think that this cross-legg’d cabbage-eating son of a cucumber, this whey-fac’d ninny, who is but the ninth part of a man, has strength to support it?

1 Mob.No Goose! no Goose!

2 Mob.A Goose!

Heel.Hold your hissing, and proceed to the next.

Snuffle.[Reads.] “Your votes are desired for Matthew Mug.”

1 Mob.A Mug! a Mug!

Heel.Oh, oh, what you are ready to have a touch of the tankard; but fair and soft, good neighbours, let us taste this master Mug before we swallow him; and, unless I am mistaken, you’ll find him a bitter draught.

1 Mob.A Mug! a Mug!

2 Mob.Hear him; hear master Heeltap.

1 Mob.A Mug! a Mug!

Heel.Harkye, you fellow with your mouth full of Mug, let me ask you a question: bring him forward. Pray is not this Matthew Mug a victualler?

3 Mob.I believe he may.

Heel.And lives at the sign of the Adam and Eve?

3 Mob.I believe he may.

Heel.Now, answer upon your honourand as you are a gentleman, what is the present price of a quart of home-brew’d at the Adam and Eve?

3 Mob.I don’t know.

Heel.You lie, sirrah: an’t it a groat?

3 Mob.I believe it may.

Heel.Oh, may be so. Now, neighbours, here’s a pretty rascal; this same Mug, because, d’ye see, state affairs would not jog glibly without laying a farthing a quart upon ale; this scoundrel, not contented to take things in a medium way, has had the impudence to raise it a penny.

Mob.No Mug! no Mug!

Heel.So, I thought I should crack Mr. Mug. Come, proceed to the next, Simon.

Snuffle.The next upon the list is Peter Primmer, the schoolmaster.

Heel.Ay, neighbours, and a sufficient man: let me tell you, master Primmer is a man for my money; a man of learning, that can lay down the law: why, adzooks, he is wise enough to puzzle the parson; and then, how you have heard him oration at the Adam and Eve of a Saturday night, about Russia and Prussia. ’Ecod, George Gage, the exciseman, is nothing at all to un.

4 Mob.A Primmer.

Heel.Ay, if the folks above did but know him. Why, lads, he will make us all statesmen in time.

2 Mob.Indeed!

Heel.Why, he swears as how all the miscarriages are owing to the great people’s not learning to read.

3 Mob.Indeed!

Heel.“For,” says Peter, says he, “if they would but once submit to be learned by me, there is no knowing to what a pitch the nation might rise.”

1 Mob.Ay, I wish they would.

Sneak.Crispin, what, is Peter Primmer a candidate?

Heel.He is, master Sneak.

Sneak.Lord I know him, mun, as well as my mother: why, I used to go to his lectures to Pewterers’-hall, ’long with deputy Firkin.

Heel.Like enough.

Mob.[Without.] Huzza!

Heel.Gad-so! the candidates are coming.[Exeunt Mob, &c.

Re-enter Sir Jacob Jollup, Bruin, and Mrs. Bruin, through the garden gate.

Sir J.Well, son Bruin, how d’ye relish the corporation of Garratt?

Bruin.Why, lookye, sir Jacob, my way is always to speak what I think; I don’t approve on’t at all.

Mrs. B.No?

Sir J.And what’s your objection?

Bruin.Why, I was never over fond of your May-games: besides corporations are too serious things; they are edgetools, sir Jacob.

Sir J.That they are frequently tools, I can readily grant: but I never heard much of their edge.

Afterwards we find the knightexclaiming—

Sir J.Hey-day! What, is the election over already?

Enter Crispin, Heeltap, &c.

Heel.Where is master Sneak!

Sneak.Here, Crispin.

Heel.The ancient corporation of Garratt, in consideration of your great parts and abilities, and out of respect to their landlord, sir Jacob, have unanimously chosen you mayor.

Sneak.Me? huzza! Good lord, who would have thought it? But how came master Primmer to lose it?

Heel.Why, Phil Fleam had told the electors, that master Primmer was an Irishman; and so they would none of them give their vote for a foreigner.

Sneak.So then I have it for certain.[Huzza!

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