The English Spy - Part 33
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Part 33

"While misty night, with silent pace, Steals gradual o'er the wanton chase."

There is something very romantic in prowling the streets of the metropolis at midnight, in quest of adventure; at least, so my companions insisted, and I had embarked too deeply in the night's debauch to moralize upon its consequences. How many a sober-looking face demure when morning dawns would blush to meet the accusing spirit of the night, dressed out in all the fantasies of whim and eccentricity with which the rosy G.o.d of midnight revelry clothes his laughter-loving baccha.n.a.ls--

"While sleep attendant at her drowsy fane, Parent of ease, envelopes all your train!"

The lamentations of old Crony brought to mind the ~347~~complaints of honest Jack Falstaff against his a.s.sociates. "There is no truth in villanous man!" said our monitor. "I remember when a gentleman might have reeled round the environs of Covent Garden, in and out of every establishment, from the Bedford to Mother Butlers, without having his pleasures broken in upon by the irruptions of Bow-street mohawks, or his person endangered by any a.s.sociation he chose to mix with; but we are returning to the times of the _Roundheads_ and the _Puritans; cant,_ vile hypocritical _cant_, has bitten the ear of authority, and the great officers of the state are infected with the Jesuitical mania.

'Man is a ship that sails with adverse winds, And has no haven till he land at death.

Then, when he thinks his hands fast grasp the bank, Conies a rude billow betwixt him and safety, And beats him back into the deep again.'"

"I subscribe to none of their fooleries," said I; "for I am of the true orthodox--love my king, my girl, my friend, and my bottle: a truce with all their raven croakings; they would overload mortality, and press our shoulders with too great a weight of dismal miseries. But come, my boys, we who have free souls, let us to the banquet, while yet Sol's fiery charioteer lies sleeping at his eastern palace in the lap of Thetis--let us chant carols of mirth to old Jove or bully Mars; and, like chaste votaries, perform our orgies at the shrine of Venus, ere yet Aurora tears aside the curtain that conceals our revels." In this way we rallied our cameleon-selves, until we again found shelter from the dews of night in Carpenter's coffee-house; a small, but well-conducted place, standing at the east end of the market, which opens between two and three o'clock in the morning, for the accommodation of those who are hourly arriving with waggon loads of vegetable commodities. Here, over a bottle of mulled port, Crony gave us the history of ~348~~what Covent Garden used to be, when the eminent, the eccentric, and the notorious in every walk of life, were to be found nightly indulging their festivities within its famous precincts. "Covent Garden," said Crony, once so celebrated for its clubs of wits and convents of fine women, is grown as dull as _modern Athens_, and its ladies of pleasure almost as vulgar as Scotch landladies; formerly, the first beauties of the time a.s.sembled every evening under the Piazzas, and promenaded for hours to the soft notes of the dulcet lute, and the silver tongues of amorous and persuasive beaus; then the gay scene partook of the splendour of a Venetian carnival, and such beauties as the Kitten, Peggy Yates, Sally Hall the brunette, Betsy Careless, and the lively Mrs. Stewart, graced the merry throng, with a hundred more, equally famed, whose names are enrolled in the cabinet of Love's votaries. Then there was a celebrated house in Charles-street, called the _field of blood_, where the droll fellows of the time used nightly to resort, and throw down whole regiments of _black_ artillery; and then at Tom or Moll King's, a coffee-house so called, which stood in the centre of Covent Garden market, at midnight might be found the bucks, bloods, demireps, and choice spirits of London, a.s.sociated with the most elegant and fascinating Cyprians, congregated with every species of human kind that intemperance, idleness, necessity, or curiosity could a.s.semble together.

There you might see Tom King enter as rough as a Bridewell whipper, roaring down the long room and rousing all the sleepers, thrusting them and all who had empty gla.s.ses out of his house, setting everything to rights,--when in would roll three or four jolly fellows, claret-cosey, and in three minutes put it all into uproar again; playing all sorts of mad pranks, until the guests in the long room were at battle-royal together; for in those days pugilistic encounters were equally common as with the present ~349~~times, owing to the celebrity of Broughton and his amphitheatre, where the science of boxing was publicly taught. Then was the Spiller's Head in Clare-market, in great vogue for the nightly a.s.semblage of the wits; there might be seen Hogarth, and Betterton the actor, and Dr. Garth, and Charles Churchill, the first of English satirists, and the arch politician, Wilkes, and the gay Duke of Wharton, and witty Morley, the author of Joe Miller, and Walker, the celebrated Macheath, and the well-known Bab Selby, the oyster-woman, and Fig, the boxer, and old Corins, the clerical attorney.--All "hail, fellow, well met."{6} And a friend of mine has in his possession a most extraordinary picture of Hogarth's, on this subject, which has never yet been engraved from. It is called St. James's Day, or the first day of oysters, and represents the interior of the Spiller's Head in Clare-market, as it then appeared. The princ.i.p.al figures are the gay and dissolute Duke of Wharton, for whom the well-known Bab Selby, the oyster-wench, is opening oysters; Spiller is standing at her back, patting her shoulder; the figure sitting smoking by the side of the duke is a portrait of Morley, the author of Joe Miller; and the man standing behind is a portrait of the well-known attendant on the duke's drunken frolics, Fig, the brother of Fig, the boxer: the person drinking at the bar is Corins, called the parson-attorney, from his habit of dressing in clerical attire; the two persons sitting at the table represent portraits of the celebrated Dr. Garth, and Betterton, the actor; the figures, also, of Walker, the celebrated Macheath, and Lavinia Fenton, the highly-reputed Polly, afterwards d.u.c.h.ess of Bolton, may be recognised in the back-ground.

The circ.u.mstances of this picture having escaped the notice of the biographer of Hogarth is by no means singular. Mr. Halls, one of the magistrates at Bow-street, has, among other choice specimens by Hogarth, the lost picture of the Harlot's Progress; the subject telling her fortune by the tea-grounds in her cup, admirably characteristic of the artist and his story. In my own collection I have the original picture of the Fish-Women of Calais, with a view of the market-place, painted on the spot, and as little known as the others to which I have alluded.

There are, no doubt, many other equally clever performances of Hogarth's prolific pencil which are not generally known to the public, or have not yet been engraved. ~350~~in the same neighbourhood, in Russel-court, at the old Cheshire Cheese, the inimitable but dissolute Tom Brown wrote many of his cleverest essays. Then too commenced the midnight revelries and notoriety of the Cider Cellar, in Maiden-lane, when Sim Sloper, Bob Washington, Jemmy Tas well, Totty Wright, and Harry Hatzell, led the way for a whole regiment more of frolic-making beings who, like Falstaff, were not only, witty themselves, but the cause of keeping it alive in others: to these succeeded Porson the Grecian, Captain Thompson, Tom Hewerdine, Sir John Moore, Mr. Edwin, Mr. Woodfall, Mr. Brownlow, Captain Morris, and a host of other highly-gifted men, the first lyrical and political writers of the day,--who frequented the Cider Cellar after the meetings of the _Anacreontic, beefsteak_, and _humbug_ clubs then held in the neighbourhood, to taste the parting bowl and swear eternal friendship. In later times, Her Majesty the Queen of Bohemia{7} raised her standard in Tavistock-row, Covent Garden, where she held a midnight court for the wits; superintended by the renowned daughter of Hibernia, and maid of honour to her majesty, the facetious Mother Butler--the ever-constant supporter of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, esquire, and a leading feature in all the memorable Westminster elections of the last fifty years. How many jovial nights have I pa.s.sed and jolly fellows have I met in the snug _sanctum sanctorum!_ a little _crib_, as the _fishmongers_ would call it, with an entrance through the bar, and into which none were ever permitted to enter without a formal introduction and the gracious permission of the hostess. Among those who were thus specially privileged, and had the honour of the _entre_, were the reporters for the morning papers, the leading members of the _eccentrics_, the actors and musicians of the two Theatres Royal, merry members of both Houses of

7 The sign of the house.

~351~~Parliament, and mad wags of every country who had any established claim to the kindred feelings of genius. Such were the frequenters of the Finish. Here, poor Tom Sheridan, with a comic gravity that set discretion at defiance, would let fly some of his brilliant drolleries at the _improvisatore_, Theodore Hook; who, lacking nothing of his opponent's wit, would quickly return his tire with the sharp encounter of a satiric epigram or a brace of puns, planted with the most happy effect upon the weak side of his adversary's merriment. There too might be seen the wayward and the talented George Cook, gentlemanly in conduct, and full of anecdote when sober, but ever captious and uproarious in his cups. Then might be heard a strange encounter of expressions between the queen of Covent Garden and the voluptuary, Lord Barrymore,{8} seconded by his brother, the pious Augustus. In one corner might be seen poor Dermody, the poet, shivering with wretchedness, and Mother Butler pleading his cause with a generous feeling that does honour to her heart, collecting for him a temporary supply which, alas!

his imprudence generally dissipated with the morrow. Here, George Sutton Manners,{9} and Peter Finnerty,{10} and James Brownly,{11} inspired by frequent potations of the real

8 Designated Cripplegate and Newgate.

9 The relative of the present Archbishop of Canterbury, and then editor of the Satirist magazine.

10 Peter Finnerty was a reporter on the Chronicle. The his- tory of Finnerty's political persecutions in his own country (Ireland), and afterwards in this, are interwoven with our history. The firmness and honesty of his mind had endeared him to a very large circle of patriot friends. He was eloquent, but impetuous, his ideas appearing to flow too fast for delivery. With all the natural warmth of his country, he had a heart of sterling gold. Finnerty died in 1822, very shortly after his friend Perry.

11 James Brownly, formerly a reporter on the Times; of whom Sheridan said, hearing him speak, that his situation ought to have been in the body of the House of Commons, instead of the gallery. Brownly possessed very rare natural talents, was originally an upholsterer in Catherine- street, Strand, and by dint of application acquired a very correct knowledge of the tine arts: he was particularly skilled in architecture and heraldry. In addition to his extraordinary powers as an orator, he was a most elegant critic, and a very amiable man. He died in 1822, much regretted by all who knew him.

~352~~Rocrea whiskey, would hold forth in powerful contention, until mine hostess of the _Finish_{12} would put an end to the debate; and the irritation it would sometimes engender, by disenc.u.mbering herself of a few of her Milesian monosyllables. Then would bounce into the room, Felix M'Carthy, the very cream of comicalities, and the warm-hearted James Hay ne, and Frank Phippen, and Michael Nugent, and the eloquent David Power, and memory Middleton, and father Proby, just to sip an emulsion after the close of their labours in reporting a long debate in the House of Commons. Here, too, I remember to have seen for the first time in my life, the wayward Byron, with the light of genius beaming in his n.o.ble countenance, and an eye brilliant and expressive as the evening star; the rich juice of the Tuscan grape had diffused an unusual glow over his features, and inspired him with a playful animation, that but rarely illumined the misanthropic gloominess of his too sensitive mind. An histrionic star alike distinguished for talent and eccentricity accompanied him--the gallant, gay Lothario, Kean. But I should consume the remnant of the night to retrace more of the fading recollections of the _Finish_. That it was a scene where prudence did not always preside, is true; but there was a rich union of talent and character always to be found within its circle, that

12 Mother Butler, the queen of Covent-garden, for many years kept the celebrated Finish, where, if shut out of your lodging, you might take shelter till morning, very often in the very best of company. The house has, since she left it, been shut up through the suspension of its licence. Mother Butler was a witty, generous-hearted, and very extraordinary woman. She is, I believe, still living, and in good circ.u.mstances.

~353~~prevented any very violent outrage upon propriety or decorum.

In the present day, there is nothing like it--the Phoenix,{13} Offley's,{14} the Coal-hole,{15} and what yet remains of the dismembered Eccentrics,{16} bears no comparison to the ripe drolleries and

13 A society established at the Wrekin tavern in Broad- court, in imitation of the celebrated club at Brazennose College, Oxford, and of whom I purpose to take some notice hereafter.

14 The Burton ale rooms; frequented by baby bucks, black- legs and half-pay officers.

15 A tavern in Fountain-court, Strand, kept by the poet Rhodes; celebrated for the Sat.u.r.day ordinary.

16 In the room, where of old the Eccentrics {*} met; When mortals were Brilliants, and fond of a whet, And _Hecate_ environ'd all London in jet. Where Adolphus, and Shorri',{**} and famed Charley Fox, With a hundred good whigs led by Alderman c.o.x, Put their names in the books, and their cash in the box; Where perpetual Whittle,{***} facetiously grand, On the president's throne each night took his stand, With his three-curly wig, and his hammer in hand: Then Brownly, with eloquence florid and clear, Pour'd a torrent of metaphor into the ear, With well-rounded periods, and satire severe. Here too Peter Finnerty, Erin's own child, Impetuous, frolicsome, witty, and wild, With many a tale has our reason beguiled: Then wit was triumphant, and night after night Was the morn usher'd in with a flood of delight.

* The Eccentrics, a club princ.i.p.ally composed of persons connected with the press or the drama, originally established at the Swan, in Chandos-street, Covent-garden, under the name of the Brilliants, and afterwards removed to the Sutherland Arms, in May's-buildings, St. Martin's-lane; --here, for many years, it continued the resort of some of the first wits of the time; the chair was seldom taken till the theatres were over, and rarely vacated till between four and five in the morning.

** Sheridan, Charles Fox, Adolphus, and many of the most eminent men now at the bar, were members or occasional frequenters.

*** James Whittle, Esq., of Fleet-street, (or, as he was more generally denominated, the facetious Jemmy Whittle, of the respectable firm of Laurie and Whittle, booksellers and publishers) was for some years perpetual president of the society, and by his quaint manners, and good-humoured sociality, added much to the felicity of the scene--he is but recently dead.

~354~~pleasant witticisms which sparkled forth in endless variety among the choice spirits who frequented the _sanctum sanctorum_ of the _old Finish_. "There is yet, however, one more place worthy of notice," said Crony; "not for any amus.e.m.e.nt we shall derive from its frequenters, but, simply, that it is the most notorious place in London." Thither it was agreed we should adjourn; for Crony's description of _Madame and Messieurs_ the _Conducteurs_ was quite sufficient to produce excitement in the young and ardent minds by which he was then surrounded. I shall not pollute this work by a repet.i.tion of the circ.u.mstances connected with this place, as detailed by old Crony, lest humanity should start back with horror and disgust at the bare mention, and charity endeavour to throw discredit on the true, but black recital. The specious pretence of selling sh.e.l.l-fish and oysters is a mere trap for the inexperienced, as every description of expensive wines, liqueurs, coffee, and costly suppers are in more general request, and the wanton extravagance exhibited within its vortex is enough to strike the uninitiated and the moralist with the most appalling sentiments of horror and dismay. Yet within this _saloon (see plate)_ did we enter, at four o'clock in the morning, to view the depravity of human nature, and watch the operation of licentiousness upon the young and thoughtless.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page354]

A Newgate turnkey would, no doubt, recognize many old acquaintances; in the special hope of which, Bob Transit has faithfully delineated some of the most conspicuous characters, as they appeared on that occasion, lending their hearty a.s.sistance in the general scene of maddening uproar. It was past five o'clock in the morning ere we quitted this den of dreadful depravity, heartily tired out by the night's adventures, yet solacing ourselves with the reflection that we had seen much and suffered little either in respect to our purses or our persons.

VISIT TO WESTMINSTER HALL.

_Worthies thereof--Legal Sketches of the Long Robe--The Maiden Brief--An awkward Recognition--Visit to Banco Regis-- Surrey Collegians giving a Lift to a Limb of the Late, "Thus far shalt thou go and no farther"--Park Rangers--Visit to the Life Academy--R--A--ys of Genius reflecting on the true line of Beauty--Arrival of Bernard Black-mantle in London--Reads his Play and Farce in the Green Rooms of the two Theatres Royal, Drury Lane and Covent Garden--Sketches of Theatrical Character--The City Ball at the Mansion House-- The Squeeze--Civic Characters--Return to Alma Mater--The Wind-up--Term ends_.

~355~~A note from d.i.c.k Gradus invited Echo and myself to hear his opening speech in Westminster Hall. "I have received my _maiden brief_"

writes the young counsel, "and shall be happy if you will be present at my first attempt, when, like a true _amicus curio_, the presence of an old school-fellow will inspire confidence, and point out what may strike him as defective in my style." "We will all go," said Transit; "Echo will be amused by the oratory of the bar, and I shall employ my pencil to advantage in taking notes, not of _short hand_, but of _long heads_, and still _longer faces_." The confusion created by the building of the new courts at Westminster has literally choked up, for a time, that n.o.ble specimen of Gothic architecture--the ancient hall; the King's Bench sittings are therefore temporarily held in the Sessions House, a small, but ~356~~rather compact octangular building, on the right of Parliament-street. Hither we hasted, at nine o'clock in the morning, to take a view of the court, judges, and counsel, and congratulate our friend Gradus on his _entree_. It has been said, that the only profession in this country where talents can insure success, is the law. If by this is meant talents of a popular kind, the power of giving effect to comprehensive views of justice and the bonds of society, a command of language, and a faculty of bringing to bear upon one point all the resources of intellect and knowledge, they are mistaken; they speak from former experience, and not from present observation: they are thinking of the days of a Mingay or an Erskine, not of those of a Marryat or a Scarlett; of the time when juries were wrought upon by the united influence of zeal and talent, not when they are governed by _precedents and practice_; when men were allowed to feel a little, as well as think a great deal; when the now common phrase of possessing the _ear of the court_ was not understood, and the tactician and the bully were unknown to the bar. It is a.s.serted, that one-fifth of the causes that come before our courts are decided upon mere matters of form, without the slightest reference to their merits. Every student for the bar must now place himself under some special pleader, and go through all the complicated drudgery of the office of one of these underlings, before he can hope to fill a higher walk; general principles, and enlarged notions of law and justice, are smothered in laborious and absurd technicalities; the enervated mind becomes shackled, until the natural vigour of the intellect is so reduced, as to make its bondage cease to seem burdensome. d.i.c.k, with a confidence in his own powers, has avoided this degrading preparation; it is only two months since he was first called to the bar, and with a knowledge of his father's influence and property added to his own talents, he hopes to make a ~357~~stand in court, previous to his being transplanted to the Commons House of Parliament.

A tolerable correct estimate may be formed of the popularity of the judges, by observing the varied bearings of respect evinced towards them upon their entrance into court. Mr. Justice Best came first, bending nearly double under a painful infirmity, and was received by a cold and ceremonious rising of the bar. To him succeeded his brother Holroyd, a learned but not a very brilliant lawyer, and another partial acknowledgment of the counsel was observable. Then entered the Chief Justice, Sir Charles Abbot, with more of dignity in his carriage than either of the preceding, and a countenance finely expressive of serenity and comprehensive faculties: his welcome was of a more general, and, I may add, genial nature; for his judicial virtues have much endeared him to the profession and the public. But the universal acknowledgment of the bar, the jury, and the reporters for the public press, who generally occupy the students' box, was reserved for Mr. Justice Bayley; upon whose entrance, all in court appeared to rise with one accord to pay a tribute of respect to this very distinguished, just, and learned man.

All this might have been accidental, you will say; but it was in such strict accordance with my own feelings and popular opinion besides, that, however invidious it may appear, I cannot resist the placing it upon record. To return to the Chief Justice: he is considered a man of strong and piercing intellect, penetrating at once to the bottom of a cause, when others, even the counsel, are very often only upon the surface; his intuition in this respect is proverbial, and hence much of the valuable time of the court is saved upon preliminary or immaterial points. Added to which, he is an excellent lawyer, shrewd, clear, and forcible in his delivery, very firm in his judgments, and mild in his ~358~~language; with a patient command of temper, and continued appearance of good-humour, that adds much to his dignity, and increases public veneration. That he has been the architect of his own elevation is much to be applauded; and it is equally honourable to the state to acknowledge, that he is more indebted to his great talents and his legal knowledge for his present situation than to any personal influence of great interest{1}: of him it may be justly said, he hath

"A piercing wit quite void of ostentation; high-erected thoughts seated in a heart of courtesy; an eloquence as sweet in the uttering, as slow to come to the uttering."

_Sir P. Sidney's Arcadia_.

It was d.i.c.k Gradus's good-luck to be opposed to Scarlett in a case of libel, where the latter was for the defendant. "Of all men else at the bar, I know of no one whom I so much wish to encounter," said Gradus.

His irritable temper, negligence in reading his briefs, and consummate ignorance{2} in any thing beyond term-reports, renders him an easy conquest to a quiet, learned, and comprehensive mind. The two former are qualifications Gradus possesses in a very superior degree, and he proved he was in no wise deficient in his opponent's great requisite; I suppose we must call it confidence; but another phrase would be more significant. Scarlett is a great tactician; and in defending his client, never hesitates to take

1 We hear that an allusion in page 359 of this work has been supposed to relate to a near relative of the respected Chief Justice: if it bears any similitude, it is the effect of accident alone; the portrait being drawn for another and a very different person, as the reference to alt.i.tude might have shown.

2 See the castigation he received in the Courier of Friday.

Dec. 10, 1824, for his total ignorance of the common terms of art.

"----that trick of courts to wear Silk at the cost of flattery."

_James Shirley's Poems_.

~359~~what I should consider the most unfair, as they are ungentlemanly advantages. But there

"be they that use men's writings like brute beasts, to make them draw which way they list."

_T. Nash's Lenten Stuff_, 1599.

His great success and immense practice at the bar is more owing to the scarcity of silk-gowns{3} than the profundity of his talents. The perpetual simper that plays upon his ruby countenance, when finessing with a jury, has, no doubt, its artful effect; although it is as foreign to the true feelings of the man, as the malicious grin of the malignant satirist would be to generosity and true genius. Of his oratory, the _aureum flumen orationis_ is certainly not his; and, if he begins a sentence well, he seldom arrives at the conclusion on the same level: he is always most happy in a reply, when he can trick his adversary by making an abusive speech, and calling no witnesses to prove his a.s.sertions. Our friend Gradus obtained a verdict, and after it the congratulations of the court and bar, with whom Scarlett is, from his superciliousness, no great favourite. Owen Feltham, in his Resolves, well says, that "arrogance is a weed that ever grows upon a dunghill."{4} The contrast between Scarlett and his great opponent, Mr.

Serjeant Copley,

3 Generally speaking, the management of two-thirds of the business of the court is entrusted to _four silk-gowns_, and about twice as many _worsted_ robes behind the bar.

4 An Impromptu written in the Court of King's Bench during a recent trial for libel.