Читайте только на ЛитРес

Книгу нельзя скачать файлом, но можно читать в нашем приложении или онлайн на сайте.

Читать книгу: «Social England under the Regency, Vol. 2 (of 2)», страница 10

Ashton John
Шрифт:

There were perils in travelling then, as now, only perhaps for the percentage of travellers, rather more so. There were highwaymen, though they were getting somewhat scarce. But the wheels came off, horses kicked over the traces, reins broke; and there are a thousand and one little accidents arising from man's subjugation of the horse, which are almost inseparable from their mutual positions; but we hardly expect to hear that on October 27, 1812, one of the Hampstead stages got blown over by the wind. We have already heard that passengers were occasionally frozen to death outside a Coach. But there is one peril one would scarcely have discounted. In Railway travelling, if a cow gets on the line, and tilts with dire onslaught at the train, Stephenson's grim speech, "So much the worse for the Coo," is verified; but when a lioness breaks loose, and attacks the horses of a Stage Coach, it strikes me that the "Coo" is the passenger thereby.

This was a little item of news which enlivened the good folks of 1816, for on October 20th of that year the Exeter Mail Coach, on its way to London, was attacked, at Winterslow-hut, seven miles from Salisbury, by a lioness who had escaped from a travelling menagerie; she sprang at one of the leaders, and for some time things were rather mixed. Two inside passengers hurriedly got out, rushed into a house close by, and locked themselves in. The driver wanted to get down and emulate the old Roman gladiatorial feats, by attacking the lioness with his pocket-knife, but the wiser counsels of his Guard restrained him. Then appeared a Deus ex Machina, in the shape of a large Mastiff dog, who "went for" Madame la Lionne, and made her retreat, her keepers afterwards capturing her. I believe the horse attacked afterwards died. But the incident, although ending fairly happily, created a great sensation at the time.

Among the minor scenes of the road, with which people were then familiar, were little carts drawn by dogs, as are the milk carts at Brussels at this day. I even recollect them, and their being put down. There is no doubt but it was in the power of a Costermonger (for they even existed in those days) to overload and ill treat his dog; but I believe the same liberty is even now accorded to him with respect to his donkey.

Apropos of these useful animals, my readers may not be aware of a highly important historical fact, which my researches have unearthed. "August 21, 1817: Donkey-riding is introduced on Hampstead Heath, and the Ladies of the neighbourhood, notwithstanding the vicinity of the Metropolis, enjoy the mode of taking the air without interruption. About a dozen donkies stand for hire on the Heath every morning, most of them with side-saddles. There are also donkey carts, and whiskies with ponies."

From the Road to the Streets, and from the Streets to the Houses, are only graceful and legitimate transitions, and here we can again learn something from the Duc de Levis, by using his eyes, and he thus writes of the general aspect of London, as he saw, and judged it. It may not be flattering to us, but we must remember, that in the Georgian era, especially in the long reign of George III., domestic architecture had reached its lowest depth. Mean frontages to houses, oblong windows, small panes of bad glass; no sanitary arrangements to speak of; a bath almost unknown; it was a time of the dullest mediocrity. It has been reserved to the last twenty-five years of our time to make things architectural more truly beautiful, and to restore, with some degree of knowledge, the legacies which our veritable art-loving ancestors left to our care.

M. le Duc says, "At length arrived in London, I should like to be able to give an idea of this immense city, by comparing it with other great capitals, a method which I prefer to all others; on this occasion, unfortunately it is not. In vain have we visited Paris, Vienna, Rome, Venice. Should you have even been at St. Petersburg or Moscow, none of these cities can give you a just idea of the English Capital. The greater part of large cities offer a collection of irregular hotels, palaces, and buildings; others, like Turin, are distinguished by long arcades. Amsterdam, Dantzic, contain a multitude of Canals; but nothing of all this resembles London. I must therefore have recourse to a particular description of it.

"First of all, represent to yourself wide streets running in a straight line, with good foot-paths; iron rails, upwards of five feet in height, are placed the whole length, which separate the houses from the footway, by an area, narrow, and of little depth, which lights the under stories; there are the kitchens, and the offices; a flight of steps serves at the same time for a communication out of doors. Over this kind of under storey is the ground floor, then the first and the second floor, but seldom a third, and never an elevated roof; neither is there any architectural decoration.

But every house, which has seldom more than three windows in front, has the door ornamented with two wooden pillars, painted white, surmounted by a heavy pediment; a small glass window gives light to the passage; in the front is the dining parlour; underneath a room, almost dark, because it looks only into a small opening, a few feet wide, which does not deserve the name of a court-yard. The staircase is sometimes of stone, but mostly of wood, and always covered with a Carpet.

"The first storey contains the drawing-room, and a tolerably large closet behind, where sometimes a bed is placed, but the proper bed-chambers are in the second floor. Under the roof are garrets for the servants. The furniture agrees with the simplicity of the building; it is much the same among all the opulent classes. The mantelpieces are usually of wood; no time-pieces; vases, candelabras, brackets, bronzes, are hardly known; and of all the arts, gilding is the least advanced. The only thing which shines is the Grate, in which Sea coal is used; the front is polished steel, and kept extremely bright; the tables, and the rest of the furniture being mahogany, take a fine polish. The paper-hangings are of an insipid colour, and insignificant design; the dining parlour and the halls are painted in fresco, mostly of a pale blue colour.

"The bed-chambers are still more plainly furnished than the drawing-room; true it is that they are made use of only for sleeping in, as they never use them for sitting-rooms; and the bed-chambers of the women are as inaccessible to the men as the Harems of the East. The beds are of white dimity or calico, with mahogany posts; and their form is simple, and does not vary. The beds, in the best houses, are but indifferent, especially the feather beds, which they usually cover with a blanket, and which, being placed immediately under the sheet, is not agreeable to foreigners, particularly in the summer season. The boudoir is unknown in England. This is, however, the manner of living even among the most wealthy. The progress of luxury has only lately induced them to adopt chimney-pieces of marble, and mirrors have become more frequent…

"It is impossible to invent anything better adapted for walking the streets of a great city than the footpaths of London; too seldom imitated elsewhere, and always imperfectly. They are paved with broad flag-stones, brought more than a hundred miles, and with a magnificence that reminds us of antiquity. If the whole were put together, they would cover the space of several square miles. They are so even, that you walk without fatigue; and we endeavour to forget the rough and slippery pavement on the Continent. These footpaths are kept constantly swept, and free from dust and dirt; and, as they are on a gentle slope, the wind and the sun soon dry them.

"Neither is here experienced the inconvenience of gutters, which, elsewhere, inundate passengers; and in storms, heavy rains, and floods, stop the way. The English have an ingenious method of getting rid of these rainy torrents; their roofs are almost flat, and the front wall, rising above the upper floor, forms a double slope like our terraces. The waters, being thus collected, descend by a spout into the drains, and are lost in the great common sewer under the middle of the streets. Sometimes they are led into cisterns. It is not that London is destitute of this precious element; a small river, brought at an immense expense, from a great distance; and immense engines, worked by the Thames, distribute the water in all quarters.

"Sea coal, whose black dust attaches so easily to furniture and clothes, is kept in cellars under the footway. In a word, Stables, and, with them, dunghills, with the smells inseparable from them, occupy back streets, and have no communication with the inhabited houses. The lamps are placed on both sides of the street, upon posts a little elevated; they are very numerous, and are always lighted before sunset…

"They have even gone so far as to pave, with flat stones, those places where you cross the street, to make an easier communication from one side to the other, and these paths are swept. Carriages are not driven at a dangerous pace in the interior of the city; lighter equipages go the same pace as the humblest coach. The horses – so swift on the road, that they seem to fly rather than run, forgetting their rapid pace – only go a gentle trot; and we never see Coachmen endeavouring to pass by and break the line at the peril of the passenger."

If I want to give a living touch to this book, I must still quote, because, to be honest, I must do it. Others assimilate bodily, or paraphrase facts: then, they are "men of genius," and they call me, in reviews, "a mere compiler." Granted; I take the latter as a compliment, for I give the very living age, and sink myself; because the quotations are better than can now be written – they are of the time. We have novels – we have plays – mostly imaginative, because of the ignorance of the writer; but an honest historian ought only to give the history of the times as he has found it, and, to any one who has conscientiously worked, the crass ignorance, and superficial knowledge, of the present time is stupendous.

The suburbs of London were still being built, and it is pleasant to read an outside criticism upon them.

"Scarcely a year passes without hundreds of houses being built; and even thousands, on the North East side of London; the most healthy part of the City, on account of its elevation: besides, the parks hinder any increase on the west. Many of the new houses are inhabited by bankers, and rich merchants, who establish themselves there, with their families; they, however, keep their counting houses in the city, where they transact business till Change-time. These daily journeys (for the distance is sometimes several miles) would appear insupportable in any other country; but it agrees very well with the active habits so common to all classes of the English nation. Besides, the women, who possess, here, more influence than is generally imagined, and who are as much afraid of damps as they dislike noise and dirt, persuade their husbands to keep these separate establishments, as soon as their circumstances will permit.

"The shops are regularly distributed in all parts of London, yet without being anywhere en masse, as they are at Petersburg, and at Moscow. The finest are in the environs of St. James's, because it is here that the most money is spent. The English are unrivalled in the art of displaying their goods to the greatest advantage; they dispose their various kinds of merchandise with the most fascinating effect; and, even, with an elegance quite uncommon; they thus find means to give them an appearance far beyond their value… The English ladies often tax the patience of shopkeepers by making them take down a multitude of goods, without even intending to buy anything. Without being obsequious, these tradesmen are civilly officious, and an air of urbanity is visible in their manners. One might suppose, from their grave and serious deportment, that they had determined to abate nothing from the price demanded. They are, however, like their fellows in other countries: it is, therefore, necessary to bargain with them.

"Foreigners act very imprudently when they speak French to each other in shops. There are, perhaps, ten thousand shops in London, where the French language is understood; and this number increases daily. This is not suspected. Instead of the officious eagerness, always blended with vanity, with which the people of the south of Europe begin to speak a foreign language, as soon as they know a few words of it; English sensibility is afraid of committing itself, in the use of a language which is not their own: necessity only forces it upon them. It is as much owing to the curiosity continually excited by the novelties of these shops, which, each in their way, are taking to the eye, as well as to the conveniences afforded by the foot-paths, that we are to attribute the preference given by the idlers of London to certain streets, instead of the public walks and parks.

"That which has been the most fashionable, for a long time, is called Bond Street, and communicates with St. James's Street and Pall Mall, by Piccadilly on one side; and Oxford Street on the other. When the weather is fine, it is the rendezvous of good company; thus, in novels, and in plays, coxcombs are all called Bond Street Loungers. This latter appellation comes from the pastry cook's shops, where they find means to wait with some patience for dinner; by taking some slight refreshment, which the English call a lunch. This happens between one and two o'clock. These shops are always supplied with a great variety of pastry, in which currants are most used. The refreshments consist of lemonade, or orgeat; and, in summer, very inferior ices. At other shops forced fruit is sold at a high price.

"The public squares are almost all regularly built; their form is oblong, from whence they take their name (?). The centre of the greater part of the squares is laid down in grass, planted with shrubs, and divided by gravel walks; these grounds are surrounded by iron rails, like the 'Palais Royal' at Paris; they are always kept shut. The neighbouring houses only, have keys, which they make use of for an airing for children and sick persons."

Speaking of St. James's Park he says that "In the centre is a meadow, with cattle grazing, watered by a canal, and surrounded with wooden rails." The Green Park he dismisses in a few words, and of Hyde Park he says that it is "the general rendezvous of all classes, who parade here in great numbers, on foot, on horseback, and in carriages. It is supposed that sometimes a hundred thousand persons assemble there. This assertion seems, at first, spoken at random; but it is grounded on probability, and even on calculation."

Then, after treating of Kensington Gardens, he says: "There are no other gardens in London that deserve notice, except those at Buckingham House, the usual residence of the Queen; and a few, attached to the houses of the great. There are two or three other gardens in the City, the access to which is not difficult, belonging to public bodies, but they are neither large nor pleasant: besides, the streets are so convenient and straight, that this deficiency is less felt than elsewhere. In the suburbs, on every side, are numerous tea gardens, where tea and other refreshments are provided. Here bowls are played on a green as level as a billiard table; indeed they are called bowling-greens; from whence we get our word boulin grin. These public places are frequented by citizens, and their families, on Sundays; the tranquillity, and decency, which is observed at these places is surprising to foreigners, who recollect the turbulent gaiety of the Ginguettes of Paris, and other capitals of Europe." I may be wrong, but, personally, I lament over the loss of the London "Tea Gardens": they were places of innocent enjoyment, and their popularity may be estimated, by this generation, by the open-air gatherings at the various exhibitions at South Kensington.

CHAPTER XII

London improvements – The Country – Gleaning – Dairying and out-door Washing – The Gipsy

In writing a book like this, it is manifestly impossible to give an account of all the public works and improvements all over the country – perforce, they must needs be confined to the national heart – the Metropolis. And we, who have reaped the benefit of the large-hearted, and open-handed policy which was then just being inaugurated, may just as well be reminded of what our grandfathers did for us.

In January, 1811, the New Kent Road was suggested, and afterwards carried out, which was the means of purifying a not particularly savoury neighbourhood, called St. George's Fields. In the same year, was a proposition to convert certain dairy farm lands at Mary le bone, into a park for public recreation. We now reap the benefit of it in Regent's Park, or, as it was first named, Mary le bone Park. The first stone of the Strand Bridge, "Waterloo Bridge," as it was afterwards called, was laid in this year. Perhaps the first cast-iron bridge ever built was, in this year, an aqueduct over the Ouse, at Wolverton.

In 1812 the Regent's Canal was commenced, and the first stone of Plymouth Breakwater was laid. Vauxhall Bridge was also begun. Millbank Prison was also started this year, and in 1813 Whitecross Street Prison was commenced. Both these have ended their existence. To show how far in advance of their times they were, there was a proposition in 1814 to remove Smithfield Market to Islington, which has come to pass. In 1815, when Napoleon was supposed to be chained at Elba, home affairs again attracted attention, and we find Burlington Arcade in contemplation, Bethlehem Hospital, as we now know it, opened, and the first stones of Southwark Bridge and the London Institution were laid. So, also, the Post Office in Aldersgate Street was inaugurated.

In 1816 Regent Street was being built, and "Mr. Nash's Positive Order" was duly discussed, and, I am afraid, a wee bit ridiculed.

 
"Nash draws designs; but, honest Master Nash,
Tho' you may draw – who answers with the cash?"
 

Perhaps it might have been that he was architect to the Prince of Wales, and was thought very much of by the Regent.

 
"Master Nash, Master Nash,
You merit the lash,
For debauching the taste of our Heir to the Throne,
Then cross not the Seas,
To rob the Chinese,
But learn to grow wise from Vitruvius and Soane."
 

We, who are accustomed to our modern London, will read, almost with astonishment, that in October, 1816, "It is said that Oxford Road is to be continued as far as Bayswater Brook, which, when completed, will make the longest street in Europe. When the New Post Office is finished, the Western Mails are to go out direct, along Holborn, instead of through the narrow streets, Charing Cross, Piccadilly, &c.; and it is said that a short cut is to be made into the other western road, angular from Shepherd's Bush to Hammersmith, which, certainly, would save a mile of ground." This "Bayswater brook" was that which now feeds the Serpentine, running from Hampstead, by Kilburn, and entering Hyde Park at its Northern part.

On the 18th of June, 1817, the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo, the new Bridge over the Thames, previously called the Strand Bridge, was opened as Waterloo Bridge, which name it now bears. In this year there is a little bit of gossip anent Marlborough House which may be interesting to some readers, especially as its use was foreshadowed: "The tenure of the magnificent house near St. James's Palace, which was granted to the first Duke of Marlborough, about a hundred years ago, expired, it is said, with the death of the last Duke; and now reverts to the Crown. This was the house in which Queen Anne resided before she ascended the throne, and it has been observed, that it would scarcely be possible to find a town mansion more suitable to the Heiress of the British Throne."

In 1818, Regent Street was still being built, and we also learn – "Dec. 7. The new street from Carlton House to the Regent's Park is making rapid strides to its completion, almost the whole of the ground on the intended line of it, being now let. The part of it which forms a square, in front of Carlton House, is called 'Waterloo Place'; from thence to Piccadilly, it is called Waterloo Street, and, from Piccadilly, the street, which will form a grand approach to the Regent's Park, is to be called the Regent's Parade."

On the 20th of March, 1819, Burlington Arcade was opened, and on the 24th of March, Southwark Bridge followed suit. On the 10th of August the first stone of Telford's bridge across the Menai Straits was laid: and in November the arrangements for rebuilding Buckingham Palace were completed, Carlton House being too small for "George the Magnificent."

In the Country, things were somewhat primitive, to our thinking, see, for instance, this heavy cumbrous plough drawn by four long legged hairy-hocked horses, with their fringed leather yokes, attached to the hames (which, by the way were very useful, as they let down, backward, in wet weather, and protected the horse's withers).

There were no drilling machines, so wheat, and other crops had to be sown broadcast, an operation which required a peculiar, and deft turn of the hand, and, as thrashing machines were only just being dreamed of (a few having been made), we see the old flail at work.

The agricultural labourer did not receive so much nominal pay as now, but he had much more in kind, and was strong and healthy, although dressed in a more homely fashion than at present. In those days a man was not ashamed of showing himself to be what he was, a farm labourer, and he wore that most seemly of garments, now dying out fast – a smock frock – good home-made stockings, and strong ancle jacks.

In those days, it was like the times of Boaz and Ruth, and women went gleaning in the fields: a sight we seldom see now, in these days of machinery, when the plough follows swiftly after the reaping machine. The practice of gleaning was a kindly privilege granted by the farmer to his labourers' wives and children, and to the poor women of the parish; one which he had no need to give, but had been so practised from early ages, that it was looked upon as a right, and consequently abused: see the following: "Oct. 18, 1813. At the Nottingham County Sessions, William Pearson and John Sprey were convicted of felony, in stealing wheat in the ear, from shocks standing in the field, and sentenced to fourteen days' imprisonment, in the county gaol. The Chairman told them the Court would not have been so lenient, but for their youth, and having been already five weeks33 in prison. He remarked, 'that this species of depredation was become so prevalent, as to be loudly, and justly, complained of. He wished it, therefore, to be understood, that no person has a right to enter the field of another, for the purposes of gleaning, without the owner's permission.'"

Old phases of English country life are dying out very fast, and it is as well that some one should record them, and that needs both pen and pencil. Take, for instance, the pictures of dairying. In these days of cheese factories and thermometers versus dairy maid's thumbs, these rough out-door dairy arrangements, although they do exist, are not particularly scientific, and do not yield the most paying results.

Even now may be seen in some parts of Scotland, and, possibly, of Wales, the "Clapping of claes in the burn" – a process of destruction to the linen which may be, perhaps, on a par with the chemicals of a London laundress.

Take another type, fast dying out, absolutely gone in London, the mounted butcher boy, who had but one stirrup, and who used all ways to ride at racing pace: here we have him perfect; his peculiar saddle, and the way his tray was strapped on.

Then there is a race of people rapidly dying out – the gipsies; it is impossible they can exist much longer, in their old nomadic life, and the Lees, Coopers, &c., will be quietly absorbed into the general population. County police and school boards are bound to improve them out of the land.

But at the time of which I write Addison's description34 of them would answer very well. "If a stray piece of linen hangs upon a hedge," says Sir Roger, "they are sure to have it; if a hog loses his way in the fields, it is ten to one but he becomes their prey; our geese cannot live in peace for them; if a man prosecutes them with severity, his hen roost is sure to pay for it. They generally straggle into these parts about this time of the year; and set the heads of our servant maids so agog for husbands, that we do not expect to have any business done as it should be whilst they are in the Country. I have an honest dairy maid who crosses their hands with a piece of silver every summer, and never fails being promised the handsomest young fellow in the parish for her pains. Your friend the butler has been fool enough to be seduced by them; and, though he is sure to lose a knife, a fork, or a spoon every time his fortune is told him, generally shuts himself up in the pantry with an old gipsy for above half an hour once in a twelvemonth. Sweethearts are the things they live upon, which they bestow very plentifully upon all those that apply themselves to them. You see now and then some handsome young jades among them; the sluts have very often white teeth and black eyes."

There are one or two stories told of gipsies about the time of the Regency, which will show what manner of men they then were. "May 17, 1815. The Hereford Journal of last week states, that early in March, a gang of gipsies pitched their tent on a waste piece of ground in the parish of Stretton Sugwas in Herefordshire, and an old woman, one of the party, persuaded a man of the name of Gritton, that an immense quantity of gold coin lay concealed on the premises he occupied, and that it was necessary that a large sum of money should be made into a parcel, and, after being endowed with a charm, it was to be sewed into the side-pocket of his coat, and the more money the parcel contained, the more considerable would be the treasure he should find. A sum of £70 in gold, bills, and silver, was, accordingly, made up in a parcel, and, after some preparations, sewed by the Sybil into the pocket of Gritton's coat, where it was to remain nine days; at the end of which time she promised to return, and a coffer of guineas was to arise from the ground. When the day arrived, she, of course, did not make her appearance, and, on his opening the parcel she had sewn up, he discovered that the witch had managed to turn gold, silver, and bills into halfpence, stones, and waste paper; leaving them in exchange for his cash, and as a reward for his folly."

"July 18, 1816. The Gipsies. – Of late years some attempts have been made to reduce the numbers, or at any rate to civilize the habits, of that vagabond and useless race, the gipsies. In pursuance of such purpose, a society of gentlemen have been making all the preliminary inquiries requisite to a proper understanding of the subject. A series of questions have been proposed to competent persons in the different counties in England and Scotland. Reports in answer to these questions have been received, and their contents are thus briefly stated.

"1. All Gipsies supposed the first of them came from Egypt.

"2. They cannot form any idea of the number in England.

"3. The Gipsies of Bedfordshire, Hertfordshire, parts of Buckinghamshire, Cambridge, and Huntingdonshire, are continually making revolutions within the range of those counties.

"4. They are either ignorant of the number of Gipsies in the counties through which they travel, or unwilling, to disclose their knowledge.

"5. The most common names are Smith, Cowper, Draper, Bosswell, Lovell, Loversedge, Allen, Mansfield, Glover, Williams, Carew, Martin, Stanley, Buckley, Plunkett, and Corrie.

"6 and 7. The gangs in different towns have not any regular connection or organization; but those who take up their winter quarters in the same city or town, appear to have some knowledge of the different routes each horde will pursue; probably with a design to prevent interference.

"8. In the county of Herts it is computed there may be sixty families, having many Children. Whether they are quite so numerous in Buckinghamshire, Bedfordshire, and Northamptonshire, the answers are not sufficiently definite to determine. In Cambridgeshire, Oxfordshire, Warwickshire, Wiltshire, and Dorsetshire, great numbers are calculated upon. In various counties, the attention has not been competent to the procuring data for any estimate of families or individuals.

"9. More than half their number follow no business; others are dealers in horses and asses; farriers, smiths, tinkers, braziers, grinders of cutlery, basket-makers, chair-bottomers, and musicians.

"10. Children are brought up in the habits of their parents, particularly to music and dancing, and are of dissolute conduct.

"11. The Women mostly carry baskets with trinkets and small wares; and tell fortunes.

"12. Too ignorant to have acquired accounts of genealogy, and, perhaps, indisposed to it by the irregularity of their habits.

"13. In most counties there are particular situations to which they are partial. In Berkshire is a marsh, near Newbury, much frequented by them; and Dr. Clarke states, that in Cambridgeshire, their principal rendezvous is near the western villages.

"14. It cannot be ascertained, whether, from their first coming into the nation, attachment to particular places has prevailed.

"15, 16, and 17. When among strangers they elude inquiries respecting their peculiar language, calling it gibberish. Don't know of any person that can write it, or of any written specimen of it.

"18. Their habits and customs in all places are peculiar.

"19. Those who profess any religion represent it to be that of the Country in which they reside; but their description of it seldom goes beyond repeating the Lord's prayer; and, only few of them are capable of that. Instances of their attending any place for worship are very rare.

33.Italics are mine. – J. A.
34.Spectator, No. 130.
Возрастное ограничение:
12+
Дата выхода на Литрес:
05 июля 2017
Объем:
232 стр. 4 иллюстрации
Правообладатель:
Public Domain

С этой книгой читают