"infinite ricfas in a litm PERSONAL REMINISCENCES BARHAM, HARNESS, AND HODDER. BfilC-A-BRAC SERIES. i. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES BY CHORLEY, PLANCH*, AND YOUNG. II. ANECDOTE BIOGRAPHIES OF THACKERAY AND DICKENS. III. PROSPER MtRIMEVs LETTERS TO AN INCOGNITA; WITH RECOLLECTIONS BY LAMARTINE AND GEORGE SAND. IV. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES BY BARHAM, HARNESS, AND HOD- DO. V. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES BY MOORE AND JERDAN. ( Will be published in January. ) Each I vol. of I2mo. Per vol. $1.50. Sent, pest-paid, on receipt of price by the publishers. 'PERSONAL REMINISCENCES BY BARHAM, HARNESS, AND HODDER. EDITED BY RICHARD HENRY STODDARD NEW YORK SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG, AND COMPANY 1875 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG, AND COMPANY, In the Office ol the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. RIVP.RSIDK, CAMBRIDGE: TRUEOTVPKD AND PKINTKI) BY H. O. HOUCMTON AND COMPAKV. CONTENTS. RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. THEODORE HOOK SIR WALTER SCOTT .... BARHAM'S COLLEGE LIFE ANECDOTE OF HARLEY, THE COMEDIAN . WITCHCRAFT BARHAM AMONG SMUGGLERS . A CASE OF MONOMANIA A POETICAL INVITATION . THE FATE OF A HARE .... RUSTIC SIMPLICITY .... ANECDOTE OF LORD ELDON . THE BLOMBERG GHOST STORY DR. BLOMBERG AND His FIDDLES MURDER OF MRS. DONATTY MESMERISM EDWARD CANNON . THEATRICAL ANECDOTES ANECDOTE OF INDIAN OFFICER CANNON'S SNUFF-TAKING THE DIGNUM BROTHERS . A STRANGE FISH A KEW COMER OLD FRIENDS SHOULD NOT BE PARTED LUTTREL'S EPIGRAM .... THE DUCHESS OF ST. ALBANS THOMAS HILL A PARADOX A DUBIOUS ACQUAINTANCE 19 45 53 55 56 57 59 60 61 61 62 63 67 68 7i 74 85 86 87 89 90 90 92 93 Vi CONTENTS. JOHN WILSON 96 A GHOST STORY 98 THOMAS HUME 99 CHARLES MATTHEWS, THE ELDER .... 103 THE PORTSMOUTH GHOST STORY 105 FUNERAL OK SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE . . . . 112 JOHN FROST 113 POETICAL EPISTLE TO HIS SON 116 SYDNEY SMITH 118 TOWNSEND, THE BoW STREET OFFICER . . . 119 ANOTHER GHOST STORY 119 THE BEEFSTEAK CLUB 122 DENIALS OF AUTHORSHIP 123 SUETT'S FUNERAL 123 " MY COUSIN NICHOLAS " 125 WILLIAM LINLET 129 HAYNES BAYLY 132 "GETTING A LITTLE FISHING" 132 LINF.S LEFT AT HOOK'S HOUSE IN JUNE, 1834 . " . 133 ANECDOTE OF TALLEYRAND 134 BON MOT OF POWERS 134 SYDNEY SMITHISMS 134 STORY OF YATES 135 THE CANISTER 137 A DINNER AT CHARLES KF.MBLE'S 138 THOMAS MOORE 138 BARHAM'S LOVE OF CHILDREN AND CATS . . .141 MRS. RICKETTS'S GHOST STORY 143 PICKLED COCKLES 150 GAEME FEATHERS 151 POETICAL EPISTLE TO DR. HUME 151 AN ACCOMPLISHED SWINDLER 153 A SONG OF SIXPENCE 135 THE QUEEN OF THE BELGIANS 156 MONCRIEF, THE DRAMATIST 157 THE SENTIMENTAL CHILD 158 THE UNLUCKY PRESENT 158 ANECDOTES 160 FACETi/e 161 SYDNEY SMITH'S NOVEL i6a CONTENTS. vii DUKE OF SUSSEX AND MR. OFFOR 163 PARSON O'BEIRNE'S SERMON 163 A NOBLEMAN WHO WOULD SELL ANYTHING . . .165 SCRAPS 166 A FRENCHMAN'S CRITICISM 168 MACREADY IN AMERICA 169 BARHAM'S SURGEON . . . . . . . . 170 THE BULLETIN ' 172 To THE GARKICK CLUB 174 WILLIAM HARNESS. LORD BYRON 179 MARY RUSSELL MITFORD 196 HARNESS AT STRATFORD 207 His EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE 208 SHAKESPEARE AS A PLAYER 210 GOODNESS OF SHAKESPEARE'S WRITING . . .211 THE GLOBE THEATRE . . ... . . 214 MRS. SIDDONS 216 PROSPERO'S ISLAND . . . . . . 218 THE KEMBLES IN AMERICA . 219 THE KEANS 225 " MEMORIALS OF CATHERINE FANSHAWE "... 226 MASTERS AND SERVANTS 230 STATE OF THE ENGLISH BIBLE 232 EDWARD IRVING . . . ... . . 232 HARNESS'S EARLY REMINISCENCES 234 PALEY 234 CRABBE 234 HARNESS AND SCOTT 235 COLERIDGE 237 LAMB 238 SHERIDAN 239 ROGERS 239 WASHINGTON IRVING 241 THEODORE HOOK 241 LYDIA WHITE 243 HENRY HOPE 243 SERJEANT TALFOURD 245 A DINNER AT THACKERAY'S 246 viii CONTENTS. DR. MttMAN ......... 247 A PRISON CHAPLAIN ....... 248 SOME OF HARNESS'S ANECDOTES ..... 248 GEORGE //ODDER. DOUGLAS JERROLD ........ 253 THE ORIGIN OF "PUNCH" ...... 286 HORACE MAYHEW ........ 296 THE MAYHEW FAMILY ....... 298 JOHN LEECH ......... 303 SIR HENRY WEBB ........ 305 ALBERT SMITH ........ 306 KENNY MEADOWS ........ 313 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK ....... 316 A LOVER OF AUTOGRAPHS ...... 319 LEIGH HUNT ......... 320 JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES ...... 325 PREFACE. IF reasons for the existence of some books are occasionally sought by their readers, the class of books to which this volume belongs generally presents " its own excuse for being." The world de- mands it. " The world," says stalwart Christopher North, " would seem to have a natural right to know much of the mind, morals, and manners of the chosen few as they exhibited themselves in private life, whose genius may have delighted or enlightened it, to know more than in general can have been revealed in their works. It desires this, not from a paltry and prying curiosity, but in a spirit of love, or admiration, or gratitude, or reverence. It is something to the reader of a great poet, but to have seen him, to be able to say ' Virgilium tan- turn vidi.' How deeply interesting to hear a few charac- teristic anecdotes related of him by some favored friend ! To have some glimpses, at least, if not full and broad lights, given to us into his domestic privacy and the inner on-goings beneath what, to our imaginations, is a hallowed roof ! We cannot bear to think that our knowl- edge of our benefactors for such they are should be limited to the few and scanty personal notices that may be scattered under the impulse of peculiar emotions X PREFACE. here and there, over their writings ; we cannot bear to think that, when the grave closes upon them, their memory must survive only in their works ; but the same earnest and devout spirit that gazes upon the shadows of their countenances on the limner's canvas, yearns to hear it told, in pious biography, what manner of men they were at the frugal or the festal board, by the fire- side, in the social or the family circle, in the discharge of those duties that solemnize the relations of kindred, and that support the roof-tree of domestic life." The personal reminiscences which follow concern a number of illustrious names, most of whom belong to the England of the present century. They are drawn from the works of those men of letters, who, if not great themselves, were frequently in contact with greatness, Barham, Harness, and Hodder. A few pages concerning them may not be unacceptable here. Richard Harris Barham was born December 6, 1788, at Canterbury. He was the only son of Richard Harris Barham, a gentleman of good family, and a bon-vivant who died in 1795, leaving a moderate fortune somewhat encumbered. In consequence of the feeble health of his mother, the fatherless boy of seven was left to the three- fold guardianship of Mr. Morris Robinson, afterwards Lord Rokeby, a Mr. Morris, and a rascally attorney, whose name has not been handed down. Young Bar- h.un was sent at the age of nine to St. Paul's School, where he made rapid progress in the classics. In his fourteenth year he was nearly killed by the upsetting of the Dover mail, in which he was travelling on his way to town. He thrust his hand from the window for the pur- pose of opening the door just as the vehicle turned over upon its side, pinning his exposed limb to the ground, PREFACE. xi and dragging it some distance along a recently repaved road. He recovered from his injuries after a long ill- ness, and without suffering amputation, and continuing for two years at St. Paul's he entered as a gentleman commoner Brazenose College, where he made the ac- quaintance of Theodore Hook, and where, after passing his examination, he took a Bachelor's degree. He in- tended originally to study for the bar, and went so far as to enter the office of Chitty, the eminent conveyancer ; but he changed his mind, and entering holy orders was admitted to the curacy of Ashford, in Kent, in 1813. He was married shortly afterward, and in 1817 was promoted by the Archbishop of Canterbury to the rectory of Snargate. Two years later he was overturned in his gig with his two children, breaking his right leg. He was confined to the house for several weeks, which he turned to account by writing a work entitled, " Baldwin." After his recovery he made a visit to London, where he learned that a minor canonry in St. Paul's was vacant. He re- solved to relinquish his curacy and canvass for it. He succeeded in obtaining it, and in the summer of 1821 took up his abode permanently in London. His family having increased, a larger income than he had hitherto enjoyed was necessary, and he set to work resolutely to procure it by literature. He edited the " London Chron- icle," a journal originally conducted by Dr. Johnson ; he wrote light articles in prose and verse on the topics of the day, with an occasional review in " John Bull," the " Globe and Traveller," the " Literary Gazette," " Black- wood," and other periodicals, besides assisting in the production of a Biographical Dictionary. The success which attended Barham in his literary labors attended him in his clerical career. In 1824 he xii PREFACE. received the appointment of priest in ordinary of His Majesty's Chapels Royal, and was presented to the in- cumbency of St. Mary Magdalen and St. Gregory by St. Paul's, which he held for about eighteen years. In 1842 he was elected to the presidency of Sion College, and in the same year his long services at St. Paul's were re- warded with the Divinity lectureship, and by being al- lowed to exchange his living for that of St. Faith. Barham's last days were darkened by illness, which appears to have been brought on by his own imprudence. The Queen visited London in state in the autumn of 1844, for the purpose of presiding at the ceremony of opening the new Royal Exchange, and Barham, wishing to witness the pageant, accepted seats for himself and his family at the house of one of his parishioners. The weather was bleak ; a strong east wind whistled through the open windows, and he caught a severe cold. His case became so alarming in the following winter that he was ordered to Bath, where his health improved. He returned to London imprudently to attend a meeting of the Archaelogical Association, caught cold again, and had a relapse. He recovered sufficiently in May to undertake a journey to Clifton with his wife, who was ill. The journey benefited neither. A temporary convalescence enabled them to return to town, where, on the morning of June 17, 1845, Barham expired, in the fifty-seventh year of his age. The life of Barham was in a certain sense tygjcal of the class to which he belonged. He enjoyed life, loved his friends, was fond of a good dinner and a good story, a right-minded, jovial English parson. Literature was as much his amusement as his employment, the work by which he is best known, "The Ingoldsby Legends," PREFACE. xiii ranking high among the drolleries of English humorous verse. They originally appeared in the pages of " Bent- ley's Miscellany," where they attracted as much attention as the fictions of its young editor, Charles Dickens. The life of William Harness was simple and unevent- ful. He was born on March 14, 1790, near the village of Wickham, where his father, Dr. Harness, resided until 1796, when, on the breaking out of war, he accompanied Lord Hook to the Mediterranean as physician to the fleet. He was afterwards sent to Lisbon, whither his family followed him. When they returned to England, young Harness, who was then in his twelfth year, was placed at Harrow, where he had Lord Byron for his school- fellow. From Harrow he proceeded to Christ's College, Cambridge, where he took his degree. Shortly after he was graduated he was ordained to the curacy of Kilmes- ton, near Abresford. He soon received an appointment to St. Pancras, London, where he entered the list of Shake- spearian editors by an edition of his favorite poet. It was published in 1825. A second edition, with plates, ap- peared in 1830 ; and a third, with illustrations by Heath and others, in 1833. Other editions, in different forms, were issued in 1836, 1840, and 1842. In 1837 he pub- lished a little story, " Reverses," in " Blackwood," which his friend and early playfellow, Mary Russell Mitford, pronounced delightful. He published also four volumes of an edition of Massinger, and wrote a dramatic poem, " The Wife of Antwerp," which he printed for private circulation. After Harness's removal to London he was made pri- vate chaplain to the Dowager Countess of Delaware, and became successively morning preacher at Trinity Chapel, and minister and evening lecturer at St. Ann's, Soho. XJV PREFACE. A note, jotted down incidentally, on the back of one of his sermon cases in commemoration of some country vis- itors, bears incidental testimony that he commanded the confidence of the most eminent clergymen in the metrop- olis : "September yth, 1823. I preached to-day at St. George's, St. Pancras, and the Magdalen, and was heard at each place by the same party from the country, who went to St. George's to hear the Dean of Carlisle, to St. Pancras to hear Moore, and to the Magdalen to hear Pitman ! Poor creatures ! they were ignorant that the great preachers are away in September!" In 1825 he was appointed Minister of Regent Square Chapel, an important and arduous post, which he occupied for nearly twenty years. His success in the pulpit was the principal cause of his being selected for it ; and during his time the chapel was densely crowded, not only by parishioners, but by members of other congregations. At a later period a church was built for him at Knightsbridge. His last literary labor was to edit the Letters and write the " Life of Miss Mitford." The end of Harness was a tragical one. In November, 1869, he made a visit into the country at the Deanery of an old friend. He was well when he arrived, and spent the greater portion of two days in reading Shakespeare. The next day he walked for a considerable time up and down the garden, and returning to the house by some new stairs, remarked to the Dean, " When you are an old man you '11 repent having placed those stairs there 1 " His last hour was approaching. " Later in the day some friends called, and a lady observed that he secim MR which, with very little correction, was afterwards published * .Ifr. Same? .Va- fm'rt'i Acct*mi o/ tkr Coconut ion. THEODORE HOOK. 27 here. The last told a story of a manager at a country theatre who, having given out the play of ' Douglas,' found the whole entertainment nearly put to a stop by the arrest of Young Norval as he was entering the theatre. In this dilemma, no other performer of the company being able to take the part, he dressed up a tall, gawky lad who snuffed the candles, in a plaid and philabeg, and pushing him on the stage, advanced himself to the footlights with the book in his hand, and ad- dressed the audience with, ' Ladies and Gentlemen, ' '1 his young gentleman's name is Norval. On the Grampian hills His father feeds his flock, a frugal swaiu, Whose constant care was to increase his store, And keep his only son (this young gentleman) at home. For this young gentleman had heard of battles, and he longed To follow to the field some warlike lord ; And Heaven soon granted what : this young gentleman's sire denied. The moon which rose last night, round as this gentleman's shield. Had not yet filled her horns,' etc. And so on through the whole of the play, much to the de- lectation of the audience. 1 " In the evening Hook went to the piano, and played and sang a long extempore song, principally leveled against Can- non, who had gone up earlier than the rest, and fallen asleep on the sofa in the drawing-room. Sir Andrew Barnard, who now met the former for the first time, expressed a wish to witness more of his talent as an improvisatore, and gave him Sir Christopher Wren as a subject, on which he infmediately commenced, and sang, without a moment's hesitation, twenty or thirty stanzas to a different air, all replete with humor." " March 23, 1828. Dined at Sir Andrew Barnard's in the Albany. The party consisted of Theodore Hook, Price, Can- non, Lord Graves, Lord W. Lennox, Col. Armstrong, Walpole, and myself. Sir Andrew was called away to attend the King, but returned before ten. In the mean time an unpleasant alter- 1 In this anecdote, which rests on the authority of a celebrated singer who told it to Cannon as having been herself present at the representation, will be recognized the subject of one of the older Mathews's most successful scenas ; it was repeated by Mr. Barham to Mr. Peake, who introduced it in Afatftewf's Comic A ttnuai for 28 RICHARD HARRK BAR HAM. cation took place between Cannon and Hook, owing to an allu- sion, somewhat ill-timed, made by the former to ' treasury de- faulters.' This circumstance interrupted the harmony of the evening, and threw a damp upon the party. Hook made but one pun ; on Walpole's remarking that, of two paintings men- tioned, one was ' a shade above the other in point of merit,' he replied, ' I presume you mean to say it was a shade over (chef (Tauvre)! " "September 6, 1828. Called at Hook's on my return from the Isle of Thanet. Mr. Powell there ; then came in a Mr. E , an Irish barrister, rich and stingy, from whom Hook afterwards told me he had taken his character of Gcrvase Skinner, in the third series of ' Sayings and Doings.' He mentioned, in proof of the saving propensities of this gentle- man, that on a visit to Dover Castle with the Crokers he was about to leave without offering anything to the sergeant who had attended them, when Mrs. Croker, observing the omission, borrowed half a crown from her friend, in the absence of her husband, for the purpose of rewarding the man. This she repaid at the hotel before going down to dinner. But Mr. E , making many excuses, affected to be half-affronted at her insisting on discharging the debt, and with becoming in- dignation threw the coin upon the table, There it lay till the waiter announced dinner, when offering his left arm to the lady, hcaontrived in passing to slip the piece of money unob- served as he thought off the table with his right hand, and deposit it in his breeches pocket. " Hook told us an amusing story of his going down to Worcester, to see his brother the dean, with Henry Hig- gin.son (his companion in many of his frolics). They arrived separately at the coach, and taking their places in the inside, opposite to each other, pretended to be strangers. After some time they begin to hoax their fellow-travellers the one af- fecting to see a great many things not to be seen, the other confirming it and admiring them. 14 ' What a beautiful house that on the hill ! ' cried Hi-u'in- non, when no house was near the spot ; ' it must command ;i THEODORE HOOK'. 29 most magnificent prospect from the elevation on which it stands.' " ' Why, yes,' returned Hook, ' the view must be extensive enough, but I cannot think these windows in good taste ; to run out bay windows in a gothic front, in my opinion, ruins the effect of the whole building.' " ' Ah ! that is the new proprietor's doings,' was the reply, ' they were not there when the marquis had possession.' Here one of their companions interfered ; he had been stretch- ing his neck for some time, in the vain hope of getting a glimpse of the mansion in question, and now asked, " ' Pray, sir, what house do you mean ? I don't see any house.' " ' That, sir, with the turrets and large bay windows on the hill,' said Hook, with profound gravity, pointing to a thick wood.' " ' Dear me,' returned the old gentleman, bobbing about to catch the desired object, ' I can't see it for those confounded trees.' " The old gentleman, luckily for them, proved an indefatiga- ble asker of questions, and the answers he received of course added much to. his stock of authentic information. " ' Pray, sir, do you happen to know to whom that house belongs ? ' inquired he, pointing to a magnificent mansion and handsome park in the distance. " ' That, sir,' replied Hook, ' is Womberly Hall, the seat of Sir Abraham Hume, which he won at billiards from the Bishop of Bath and Wells.' " ' You don't say so ! ' cried the old gentleman, in pious hor- ror, and taking out his pocket-book begged his informant to repeat the name of the seat, which he readily did, and it was entered accordingly the old gentleman shaking his head gravely the while, and bewailing the profligacy of an age in which dignitaries of the church practiced gambling to so alarm- ing an extent. " The frequt,r ,.y of the remarks, however, made by the asso- ciates on objects which the eyesight of no one else was good 30 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. trough to take in began at length to excite some suspicion, and Hook's breaking suddenly into a raptuous exclamation at 'the magnificent burst of the ocean !' in the midst of an in- land country, a Wiltshire farmer, who had been for some time staring alternately at them and the window, thrust out his head, and after reconnoitring for a couple of minutes drew it in again, and looking full in the face of the sea-gazer, exclaimed with considerable emphasis, " ' Well, now then, I 'm d d if I think you can see the ocean, as you call it, for all you pretends' and continued very sulky the rest of the way." "' December 8, 1828. Called on Hook. In the course of conversation he gave me an account of his going to Lord Mel- ville's trial with a friend. They went early, and were engaged in conversation when the peers began to enter. At this mo- ment a country-looking lady, whom he afterwards found to be a resident at Rye, in Sussex, touched his arm, and said, I beg your pardon, sir, but pray who are those gentlemen in red now coming in ? ' " ' Those, ma'am,' returned Theodore, ' are the Barons of England : in these cases the junior peers always come first.' " ' Thank you, sir ; much obliged to you. Louisa, my dear ! (turning to a girl about fourteen), tell Jane (about ten) those are the Barons of England, and the juniors (that's the young- est, you know) always goes first. Tell her to be sure and re- member that when we get home.' '" Dear me, Ma,'' said Louisa, 'can that gentleman be one of the youngest f I am sure he looks very old.' "' Human nature, added Hook, 'could not stand this ; any one, though with no more mischief in him than a dove, must have been excited to a hoax. "' And pray, sir,' continued the lady, 'what gentlemen are these ? ' pointing to the Bishops, who came next in order, in the dress which they wear on state occasions, namely the rochet and lawn sleeves over their doctor's robes. "' Gentlemen, madam ! " said Hook, "these are not gentle- THEODORE HOOK, 31 men : these are ladies elderly ladies the dowager peeresses in their own right. " " ' The fair inquirer fixed a penetrating glance upon his coun- tenance, saying, as plainly as an eye can say, " Are you quizzing me or no ? " Not a muscle moved ; till at last, tolerably well satisfied with her scrutiny, she turned round and whispered, " ' Louisa, dear, the gentleman says that these are elderly ladies, and dowager peeresses in their own right ; tell Jane not to forget that.' " All went on smoothly till the Speaker of the House of Com- mons attracted her attention by the rich embroidery of his robes. " ' Pray, sir,' said she, ' and who is that fine-looking per- son opposite ? ' " ' That, madam,' was the answer, is Cardinal Wolsey ! " " ' Now, sir ! ' cried the lady, drawing herself up, and cast- ing at her informant a look of angry disdain, 'we knows a little better than that ; Cardinal Wolsey has been dead a good year ! ' " ' No such thing, my dear madam, I assure you,' replied Hook, with a gravity that must have been almost preter- natural ; ' it has been, I know, so reported in the country, but without the least foundation ; in fact, those rascally newspa- pers will say anything.' " The good old gentlewoman appeared thunderstruck, opened her eyes to their full extent, and gasped like a dying carp ; vox faucibus hossit seizing a daughter with each hand, she hurried without another word from the spot." Mr. Hook has been accused of a tolerably strong leaning to superstition ; one instance in particular is given by Mrs. Math- ews, in the memoirs of her husband, of the ludicrous advan- tage taken by the latter of this weakness, to turn the tables on his fomer tormentor. His biographer in " The Quarterly " also alluc'es to indications of a similar feeling apparent in the diary to which he had access ; but for these concurrent testimonies, one might be apt to refer the following statement to that love of mystification in which this singular being was so profound 32 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAV. an adept Mr. Barham, however, always believed him to have spoken in perfect good faith ; and certainly the circumstances of the story in question, supported, as they are, by most re- spectable authority, have more than common claims on the at- tention of the skeptical. The date of the interview is not given, but it must have been between September 6th and December 8th of this year. " Met Hook in the Burlington Arcade ; walked with him to the British Museum. As we passed down Great Russell Street, Hook paused oo arriving at Charlotte Street, Bedford Square, and, pointing to the northwest corner, nearly oppo- site the house (the second from the corner) in which he him- self was born, observed, "' There, by that lamp-post, stood Martha the gypsy ! ' * " ' Yes,' I replied, ' I know that is the spot on which you make her stand.' " 'It is the spot,' rejoined Hook, seriously, 'on which she actually did stand ; ' and he went on to say that he entertained no doubt whatever as to the truth of the story ; that he had simply given the narrative as he had heard it from one (Major Darby) who was an eye-witness of the catastrophe, and was present when the extraordinary noise was heard on the even- ing previous to the gentleman's decease. He added, that he was intimately acquainted with the individual who had ex- perienced the effects of Martha's malediction, and whose name was Hough. He said, further, that he had merely heightened the first accident, which had been but a simple fracture of the leg, occasioned by his starting at the sight of the gypsy, and so slipping off the curb-stone ; but that in all other main inci- dents he had adhered strictly to fact." "Diary: August 18, 1835. Took young Tom Haffenden over with me to Captain Williams's at Strand-on-Green, and went with him and Theodore Hook to Twickenham, fishing ; caught little or nothing. Hook observed that as we often had fish without roc, now we must be content with rou< without fish. Gave excellent imitation of the Duke of Cumberland and Colonel Quentin. 1 ' 'itft Kim Scrie <>f S>tjn'*ft and Doittgt- THEODORE HOOK. 33 " Story of Lord Middleton, out hunting, calling to Gunter, the confectioner, to ' hold hard ' and not ride over the hounds. ' My horse is so hot, my lord, that I don't know what to do with him.' ' Ice him, Gunter ; ice him.' " Dined at Williams's afterwards. Hook in high spirits, and full of anecdote. Stories of Grattan, C. Fox, and Mar- quis of Hertford. The latter said after all his expenses were paid he had 95,ooo/. per annum he did not know what to do with ; yet Hook said he questioned much whether, intimate as they were, and kind as he always was to him, he would lend him or any other friend a thousand pounds. At his fetes the dinners always ordered at two guineas and a half a head, ex- clusive of wine. Duke of Buccleugh, on the other hand, with a yearly income of I72,ooo/., not a rich man ; his property consumed by his houses ; can go to Scotland by easy stages, stopping always to sleep at some place of his own. "The house in-which I used to visit F. Gosling, the banker, at Twickenham, namely, that with the octagon room once oc- cupied by Louis Philippe, the one alluded to in ' Gilbert Gurney.' The wealthy citizen described as at Hill's dinner in the same, an imaginary character ; the others, Dubois and Mathews. " Hook assured me with the greatest seriousness that on his return from the Mauritius he and six or seven more on board had seen the ' Flying Dutchman ; ' that is, that at a time when they could scarce keep up a rag of canvas for the hurri- cane, a large ship bore down on the opposite tack, seemingly in the wind's eye, with all her sails set, and apparently at the distance of not more than half a mile. He told a story of. a gentleman driving his Irish servant in his cab, and saying to him, half jocularly, half in anger, " ' If the gallows had it 's due, you rascal, where would you be now ? ' " ' Faith, then, your honor, it 's riding in this cab I 'd be, all alone by myself may be ! ' " He also mentioned that last week an old Irishwoman came to St. George's Hospital to fetch away the body of her husband, 34 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. who had recently died. Not expecting it to be claimed, the surgeons had been to work and had cut off the head, as well as those of half a dozen more, for phrenological investigation. Some confusion was occasioned by the old woman's demand, as they did not know precisely which head belonged to any specific corpse. ' Had your husband any mark you would know him by?' was asked. "' Oh ! then sure he had ; he had a scar on his right ar- rum.' " The body, of course, was identified at once ; but to find the right head was not so easy, especially as most of them had been a good deal disfigured. At last one was found that seemed to fit better than the others, and it was carefully sewn on. When the woman was admitted she at once recognized the scar, which was rather a remarkable one ; but when she looked at the face, ' Oh ! murder,' she cried, ' and it 's death that alters one entirely, it is ! My poor Dennis had carroty hair, and now the head of him is as black as a tom-cat ! ' This Hook said he had from Keate the surgeon, who declared it to be true." ''Diary: Wednesday, August 21, 1839. Hook drove me down to Thames Ditton, from his house at Fulham. Fished all day, and dined tete-a-tete at the Swan. He felt but poorly, and complained much of a cough which he said they told him proceeded from the deranged state of his liver, and drank only a tumbler of sherry and water, our dinner consisting of a dish of eels and a duck. Though not in health, his spirits were as good as ever. We caught eight dozen and a half of gudgeons, and he repeated to me almost as many anecdotes. Among the DC of a trick he played when a boy behind the scenes of the Haymarket. He was there one evening, during the heat of the Westminster election, at the representation of ' The Wood Demon,' and observing the prompter with the large speaking trumpet in his hand, used to produce the supernatural voices incidental to the piece, he watched him for some time, and saw him go through the business more than once. As the effect RICHARD HARRIS BAR HAM. 35 was to be repeated, he requested of the man to be allowed to make the noise for him ; the prompter incautiously trusted him with the instrument, when, just at the moment the ' Fiend ' rose from the trap, and the usual roar was to accompany his appearance, ' SHERIDAN FOR EVER ! ! ! ' was bawled out in the deepest tones that could be produced not more to the aston- ishment of the audience, than to the confusion of the involun- tary partisan himself, from whom they seemed to proceed. " He mentioned also a reply that he made to the Duke of Rutland, who, observing him looking about the hall, as they were leaving the Marquis of Hertford's, asked him what he had lost ? " ' My hat ; if I had as good a beaver (Belvoir), as your Grace, I should have taken better care of it." " Close to the Swan, the house at which we had dined, is Boyle Farm, the residence of Sir Edward Sugden, whose father was a hairdresser. The place is splendidly fitted up, and in the hall is a beautiful vase of very rich workmanship. Hook said that when he and Croker went to dine there one day by invitation from Sir Edward, their host happened to meet them in the hall, and on their stopping for a moment to admire this fine specimen of art, he told them that it was a fac-simile of the celebrated one known as the Warwick vase. ' Aye,' returned Croker, ' it is very handsome ; but don't you think a copy of the Barberini one would be more appropriate ? ' a question the wit of which will hardly atone for its ill- nature. "The Chartists had visited St. Paul's on the preceding Sun- day in a body, to show ' a strong demonstration of physical force ; ' I had mentioned that the Marquis of Westminster was present, on which Hook said that nobleman had recently received an invitation from a particular friend, couched in the following terms : "'DEAR WESTMINSTER, Come and dine with me to-mor- row. You will meet London, Chelsea, and the two Parks. " ' Yours, etc.' 36 RICHARD HARRIS BARIUM. Whether Theodore Hook and his great rival, Mr. Sydney Smith, ever met in society, I do not know ; if they did, it must have been towards the close of their career, when the habitual caution of acknowledged wits in the presence of one another, would probably have prevented any unusual display on either side. An arrangement was made for the purpose of bringing them together at the table of a common friend, but, alas ! a tailor, 1 What dire mishaps from trivial causes spring! ' one to whom Hook owed a considerable sum, having failed in the interval, the latter was unable, or indisposed, to keep the appointment. The circumstance served to elicit one of those happy strokes of sarcasm which the Canon dealt so adroitly. Mr. H , the host, not aware of the cause of his expected guest's detention, delayed dinner for some time, observing that 'he was sure Hook would come, as he had seen him in the course of the afternoon, at the Anthenaeum, evidently winding himself up for the encounter with tumblers of cold brandy and water.' " That 's hardly fair," said Smith, " I can't be expected to be a match for him, unless wound up too, so when your servant ushers in Mr. Hook, let Mr. H 's Punch be announced at the same time." It was, I believe, at the breaking up of the same party, that one of the company having said he was about to ' drop in ' at Lady Blessington's, a young gentleman, a perfect stranger to him, said, with the most " gallant modesty," " Oh ! then you can take me with you ; I want very much to know her, and you can introduce me." While the other was standing aghast at the impudence of the proposal, and muttering something about being Init a slight acquaintance himself," and " not knowing very well how he could take such a liberty," etc., Sydney Smith observed, " Pray oblige our young friend ; you can do it easily enough by introducing him in a capacity very desirable at this close season of the year say you are bringing with you the cool oi the evening." THEODORE HOOK. 37 "Diary: November 21, 1840. The Queen was this day brought to bed of the Princess Royal, and I carried the news down to Fulham, where I dined with Hook, Francis Broderip, and Major Shadwell Clarke. The latter expressed himself much annoyed at the infant's being a girl, as there would be no brevet. " Hook mentioned several anecdotes of his early life ; among others, he said that the day on which he was first sent down to Harrow school, Lord Byron, who was there at the time, took him into the square, showed him a window at which Mrs. Drury was undressing, gave him a stone, and bid him ' knock her eye out with it.' Hook threw the stone, and broke the window. Next morning there was a great 'row' about it, and Byron, coming up to him, said, " ' Well, my fine fellow, you 've done it ! She had but one eye (the truth), and it's gone ! ' Hook's funk was indescrib- able. " He said that my old friend Cecil Tattersall, whom I knew at Canterbury and at Christ Church, was at that time there ; he was very intimate with Byron, and had the sobriquet of ' Punch Tattersall.' " He spoke in .the course of the evening of his two eldest daughters, of whom Mary, the senior, had just turned twenty- one ; the name of the second was Louisa, and he designated them accordingly as ' Vingt-un ' and 'Loo!' He read us a letter also from his eldest son in India, who had just got his commission there, at the age of seventeen. It was full of fun, and showed much of his father's talent, together with a great deal of good feeling. " Another of his stories was of Sir George Warrender, who was once obliged to put off a dinner party in consequence of the death of a relative, and sat down to a haunch of venison by himself. While eating, he said to his butler : 41 ' John, this will make a capital hash to-morrow.' " ' Yes, Sir George, if you leave off now ! ' ' The following entry is without date. The dinner, however, which it commemorates, must have been given in the course of 38 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM the year 1840. Its main object was to make known Hook and Haliburton, the author of " Sam Slick," to each other. " Dined at Bentley's. There were present, Hook, Halibur- ton, Jerdan, Moran, and my son. Hook told us several anec- dotes, among others one of Sir George Warrender, and said that on one occasion that worthy baronet, wishing to go to Plymouth, inquired of John Wilson Croker, the Secretary to the Admiralty, of which Sir George was one of the lords, " ' Come, Mr. Secretary, you understand these things which is my best route ? ' " Croker described the line, mentioning the towns he rec- ommended him to pass through ; ' and then,' said he, ' not to return like a dog by the same round you went, you can come home through Wiltshire, and see Stonehenge on your way.' " ' Oh, no,' said the baronet, ' I have no patience with the man. Ever since he tacked on that name to his own, for the sake of the estate, he has become so insufferably conceited that I never wish to see him again ! ' "It is supposed that Sir George here alluded to Mr. Hen- eage, M. P. for Devizes, whose name he was confounding with that of the ancient Druidical monument. "In the course of the evening, Hook, looking at my son, said to me, ' How old these young fellows make us feel ! It was but the other day that chap was standing at my knee, listening to my stories with ears, eyes, and mouth wide open, and now he is a man, I suppose ? ' " ' Yes,' I said, ' he is three or four and twenty.' "' Ah, I see, Vingt-un overdrawn.' " "May 5, 1841. Dinner party here : Lord Nugent, Fitzroy Stanhope, Sergeant Talfourd, John Adolphus, Theodore Hook, Dr. White, Frank Fladgate, George Raymond, and Dick. Anecdote told of the marriage of the Hon. Mr. D , son of Lord G : ' As the happy pair were starting on their wed- ding tour, the lady's maid was for putting a huge bandbox into the carriage. Mr. D was about to make room for it. at some little inconvenience, when an old French valet who had long lived in the family touched his young master's elbow and THEODORE HOOK. 39 said softly, " No, no, sare ! turn him out ; bandbox to-day, bandbox all your life ! " '" This was the last time that Theodoore Hook dined at Amen Corner ; he was unusually late, and dinner was served before he made his appearance. Mr. Barham apologized for having sat down without him, observing that he had quite given him up, and had supposed " that the weather had deterred him." " Oh ! " replied Hook, " I had determined to come weather or no." He eat literally nothing but one large slice of cucumber, but seemed in tolerable spirits ; and towards the end of the evening, the slight indications of effort which were at first visible had completely disappeared. Lord Nugent, who had never met him before, was exceedingly desirous of hearing one of his extempore songs, but my father, certain that he was ill, interfered and saved him that exertion. From this time his disease made rapid progress, and he dined from home but twice afterwards, once at Lord Harrington's, and once, I believe, with his friend Major Clarke. Mr. Barham saw him but once again ; on July 29, about a month before his decease, the former spent the morning with him at Fulham. To Richard Bentley, Esq. " MARGATE, A ugust26, 1841. " MY DEAR BENTLEY, Dick's letter and yours had but too well prepared me for the melancholy event announced in your last. Poor fellow ! I little thought when I shook his hand at parting that it was the last time I should ever grasp it. The whole thing, indeed, has quite upset me. All my oldest and best friends seem dropping off one by one. Poor Cannon was the first to go, James Smith, Bacon, Tom Hill, and now Hook, the one whom I had known the longest and spent the most pleasant hours with of them all ! In our college days, 't is true, I saw comparatively little of him (for he was only two terms at St. Mary's Hall), and then his voyage to the Mauritius sepa- rated us ; but since his return, about twenty years ago, we have 4O RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. ever been on the most friendly terms of intimacy and, I believe, mutual regard. The world believes him older than he was ; his birth took place in September, 1789, consequently he would have been fifty-three had he lived a month longer. Independ- ent of the loss to his private friends, I consider his death just at this juncture a public calamity. * Barnes gone ! and Hook gone ! the two ablest, beyond all comparison, of the advocates of civil order and all that is valuable in our institutions. For myself the shadow of a shade never intervened during our long intercourse to cloud our friendship for a moment. I have seen him at times irritable, and sometimes, though rarely and only when other circumstances had combined to ruffle him,,disposed to take offense with others; with myself never/ and it is a source of sincere satisfaction to me at this moment that I can- not recall even an expression of momentary petulance that ever escaped either to the other. Among all his numerous ac- quaintance and friends there are none who will regret him more sincerely. Most faithfully yours, " R. H. BARHAM." To Richard Bcntley, Esq. "MARGATE, August V), 1841. " MY DEAR BENTLEV, Since my return from the business which so exclusively occupied my attention this morning, I have thought much and anxiously as to the best mode of proceed- ing in this business of poor Hook's, so as at once to secure your object of not being anticipated and at the same time avoid anything that may be premature or indelicate. If you were a stranger to Mr. B , the step I should recommend would be a different one from that which, after mature consideration, I would now suggest ; but you have already been in negotia- tion with him on Mathews's account, which seems to me to make the interference, in the first instance, of a third party between you, strange and inexpedient. I would, first of all, write him immediately some such letter as that of which I inclose a draft As I have before observed, B- is not a man to do anything in a hurry, and Mr. Shackell will in all THEODORE HOOK. 41 probability, or Mrs. Hook herself, have broken ground for you and led him to expect some application on your part. Your letter will, of course, produce an immediate reply, and act, I have no doubt, as a preventive against any movement of the kind you seem to anticipate from that or any other quarter. If you think my interference would be of the slightest use af- terwards, I would either write, or, what would be I think a better way of going to work, see B immediately on my return ; but I do not think he is a man likely to yield to influ- ence of any kind in a matter of this sort. Before you see him you should, if possible, make up your mind as to whose hands you would confide the task, so as to be able to submit the name or names, if you like to give him a choice of them, to him, for depend upon it this is a question he would be sure to ask. If you decide upon Croker there can be no question that the two names would. insure a very large sale ; and Cro- ker's regard to his friend, if, in order to keep his memory out of inefficient or injudicious hands, he would be induced to undertake the work at all, would insure its being done rather more with a view to the credit of Hook himself and benefit of his children than to personal profit. If you can't get Croker, what think you of Jerdan ? He was intimate with him for a great number of years, would handle the subject with tact and good-nature, and would I think do it well. It should certainly be some one personally acquainted with Hook's humors and peculiarities, and be at the same time a practiced hand. Of course all the assistance I can give you you may command, both in furnishing you with what matter recollection may sup- ply, and in any general supervision, as in the Mathews case, you may think worth having. " We have had a good collection to-day 8/. more than last year ; the church much crowded. Remember me to Roberts and let me hear from you as to B , and the result of your communication with him ; especially let me know the day of poor Hook's funeral if you can ascertain it, and believe me, as ever, most truly yours, "R. H. BARHAM." 42 K1C1IARD HARRIS BARIIAU. " It was on the 29th of last month that I shook poor Hook's hand for the last time." To Mrs. Hughes. "MARGATE, Sefttmbtri, i<5 4 i. ' MY DEAR FRIEND, You c'o me no more than justice in supposing that the loss of my poor friend would indeed cast a gloom over me ; in fact it came upon me like a thunder-clap, and I even yet can scarcely believe it real. On Monday, the 29th of July, I went down to Fulham, and spent the whole morning with him, having heard that he was out of sorts, and wishing to see him before I came down here, where I had promised to preach a sermon for the benefit of " The Sea- bathing Infirmary." That (fay month was the day of his funeral ! I dreamt of no such thing then, for though I could not persuade him to taste even the fowl which we had for luncheon, yet his spirits were so high, and his countenance wore so completely its usual expression, that I thought him merely laboring under one of those attacks of bilious indiges- tion, through so many of which I had seen him fight his way, and which I trusted the run to the sea-side, in which he com- monly indulged at this time of the year, would entirely re- move. " I was, I confess, a little startled when he told me that he had not tasted solid food for three days, but had lived upon effervescent draughts, of gentian or columba, taken alternately with rum and milk, and Guinness's porter. There was some- thing in this mixture of medicine, food, and tonic, with the stimulants which I knew he took besides, though he said nothing about them, that gave me some apprehension as to whether the regimen he was pursuing was a right one, and I pressed him strongly to have further advice than that of the apothecary (an old friend who had attended him for many years), and not to risk a life so valuable to his family, as well as to his friends, on a point of punctilious delicacy. He prom- ised me that if he was not better in a day or two, he would certainly do so. THEODORE HOOK. 43 " He went on to speak of some matters of business con- nected with the novel he was employed on, part of which he read to me ; and much, my dear friend, as you, in common with the rest of the world, have enjoyed his writings, I do assure you the effect of his humor and wit was more than doubled, when the effusions of his own genius were given from his own mouth. Never was he in better cue, and his expressive eye reveled in its own fun. I shall never forget it! " We got afterwards on miscellaneous subjects, and then he was still the Theodore Hook I had always known, only altered from him of our college days by the increased fund of anec- dote which experience and the scenes he had since gone through had given him. There was the same good-nature which was one of the most distinguishing characteristics of his mind ; indeed it has so happened that, intimate as has been our friendship for the last twenty years, since his. return from the Mauritius renewed the connection of our earlier days, I have been but rarely a witness to that bitter and cut- ting sarcasm of which he had perfect command, and could employ without scruple when provoked. The reason of this, perhaps, may be that, frequently as we met, it was either in a quiet stroll or dinner by ourselves, or in the society of a few intimate friends, all of whom loved and regarded each other too well to give occasion for the slightest ebullition of temper. The only instances I can call to mind in which he has given way to any severity of expression have ever been in mixed company, and generally (with one single exception, perhaps, I might say universally), when undue liberties, taken by those whose acquaintance with him was not sufficient to justify the familiarity, drew from him a rebuff which seldom make a sec- ond one necessary. His friends could not provoke him. " He read to me a letter from his son in India, a young man not yet of age, written with much of the peculiar humor of his father, combined with a degree of good feeling and affection amply justifying that extreme attachment which the latter had always felt for him. Never, I am persuaded, was a parent 44 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. fonder of his children, and the way in which he now spoke to me of this one (for whom Majoribanks had about a year ago procured a commission in India), the traits he mentioned of his character, and the delight with which he dwelt upon them, were, from reasons to which I need scarcely allude, calculated to make no slight impression upon his auditor. " After more than three hours spent in a tete-ei-tete, I got up to leave him, and then, for the first time, remarked that the dressing-gown he wore seemed to sit on him more loosely than usual ; I said, as I shook his hand, for the last time, " ' Why, my dear Hook, this business seems to have pulled you more than I had perceived.' " ' Pulled me ! ' said he, ' you may well say that ; look here,' and, opening his gown, it was not without a degree of painful surprise, that I saw how much he had fallen away, and that he seemed literally almost slipping through his clothes, a cir- cumstance the more remarkable from the usual portliness of his figure. " I was so struck with his change of appearance that I could not refrain from again pressing him to accompany me for a few days down here, but he declined it as being impossi- ble, from the necessity of his immediately winding up ' Pere- grine Bunce ' and ' Fathers and Daughters ' (the novel he was publishing in monthly parts in ' Colburn's Magazine'), but he added, that in a fortnight or three weeks he should so far have ' broken the necks of them both ' as to admit of his running down to Eastbourne, where he said ' he could be quiet' Alas ! he little thought, or I, how quiet, or what his rest would be before the expiration of that term ! I left him, but without any foreboding that it was for the last time. " The first intimation I had of his danger was on Tuesday the 24th ult. in a letter from my son, who went down to Ful- ham to call on him on the Monday ; that letter stated that, to his equal surprise and grief, the answer he received had been that Mr. Hook was given over by Dr. Ferguson who had been called in to him ; that mortification had taken place, was rap- idly going on, and that a few hours at farthest must close the S/X WALTER SCOTT. 45 scene. In point of fact, he expired about half-past four that same afternoon, as I heard from Bentley by the following post. " It was well for my engagement with the latter that I had a few days before sent him up the legend I had promised for the month, for, feeling apart, the confusion of intellect I was in would have rendered it impossible for me even to have looked at a proof. "Mathews, Frank Bacon, poor Power, Tom Hill, and James Smith and now Hook! he who flung his life and spirit into the rest ! I question if half a dozen such associates were ever removed, or such a party broken up in so short a time. I doubt if I shall have the courage now to enter the Garrick Club again. Its glory has indeed departed ! " With the exact state of poor Hook's circumstances I am not fully acquainted. I believe he has left no tradesmen's bills unpaid, and if in debt at all, it must be to such persons as never will look to that part of their loss. But I much fear he can have left no great provision for Mrs. Hook or his children, of whom he has four besides the young man in India. I hope somebody will be found to do justice to his memory. Mr. Croker would be the man of all others, if he would undertake the task ; and though I believe it has been neglected of late, yet I know my poor friend kept a diary, which I have seen, of the freaks and adventures of his earlrer years. Much of this, I dare say, has been anticipated in ' Gilbert Gurney,' and much, perhaps from respect to living persons, could not, as yet at least, be given to the public ; but the history of the Berners Street hoax, and some other transactions I could name, will one day, no doubt, raise a hearty laugh among those who come after us." SIR WALTER SCOTT. " November 26, 1826. Dined at Doctor Hughes's. Sir Wal- ter Scott had been there the day before ; and the Doctor told me the following anecdote, which he had just heard from the ' Great Unknown.' A Scottish clergyman, whose name was 46 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. not mentioned, had some years since been cited before the Ecclesiastical Assembly at Edinburgh, to answer to a charge brought against him of great irreverence in religious matters, and Sir Walter was employed by him to arrange his defense. The principal fact alleged against him was his having asserted, in a letter which was produced, that ' he considered Pontius Pilate to be a very ill-used man, as he had done more for Christianity than all the other nine apostles put together.' The fact was proved, and suspension followed." "November 20, 1828. Carried a letter addressed by Sir Walter Scott to Mrs. Hughes, on the subject of a benefit for Mr. Terry the actor, lately afflicted with a paralytic stroke, to Stephen Price at Drury Lane Theatre. Prfce promised me to let him have a benefit at the proper season, if he wished it ; Sir Walter undertaking to write a prologue or an epilogue. Mrs. H., in a conversation respecting the ' Bride of Lammer- moor,' told me that she had been informed by Sir Walter, when she was last at Abbottsford, that the main incidents of that story were true ; that the Lucy of the tale was a Miss Dal- rymple ; Bucklaw, who marries her, was Dunbar of Dunbar ; and her lover, Hamilton of Bungany, who, however, survived her many years. The expression used by Lucy, ' So ye have taken up your bonnie bridegroom,' is historically correct ; as is the whole circumstance of her stabbing her new-made hus- band, and her subsequent insanity. The catastrophe of Ra- venswood's being overwhelmed in the sand is founded on an occurrence which took place before the eyes of Sir Walter's son, Major Scott, who saw three Irish horsedealers disappear in the manner described. A similar accident is said to have happened to the son of the celebrated Mrs. Trimmer. " Meg Dodds, described in ' St. Ronan's Well,' is a Mrs. Wilson, who keeps the inn at Fushie Bridge, the first stage from Edinburgh on the road to Abbotsford. She adores Sir Walter, and when Dr. and Mrs. Hughes were detained for want of horses, finding out accidentally that they were friends of his, she without any scruple ordered those which were be- spoken for a gentleman, then on his way to dine with Lord SSX WALTER SCOTT. 47 Melville, to be put to their carriage. Mrs. Wilson is a strict Presbyterian, and once complained to Sir Walter that 'though he had done just right by being so much with Arnieston (Mr. Dundas of Arnieston), yet that the latter had greviously of- fended her. He had pit up,' she said, ' in the kirk the Lord's Prayer and the Ten Commandments, and when a remonstrance was sent to him against such idolatry, he just answered, that if they did not let him alone he would e'en pit up a " Belief " into the bargain ! ' " " September, 1829. Mrs. Hughes told me that the person whose character was drawn by Sir Walter Scott as Jonathan Oldbuck was a Mr. Russell, and that the laird whom he men- tions as playing cards with Andrew Gemmell (the prototype of Edie Ochiltree) through the window was Mr. Scott of Yar- row. " Snivelling Stone, about two miles and a half from the cromlech known as Wayland Smith's Cave, in Berkshire, is a large stone, which it is said that Wayland, having ordered his attendant dwarf to go on an errand, and observing the boy to go reluctantly, kicked after him. It just caught his heel, and from the tears which ensued, it derived its traditionary ap- pellation. It is singular that when Mrs. Hughes, who had this story from a servant, a native of that part of the country, first told it to Sir Walter Scott, he declared that he had never heard of Wayland's having had any attendant, but had got all the materials for his story, so far as that worthy is concerned, from Camden. His creation of Dicky Sludge, a character so near the traditionary one of which he had never heard, is a curious coincidence. " So also is his description of Sir Henry Lee and the dog in " Woodstock." There is a painting in the possession of Mr. Townsend of Trevallyn, in Wales, representing, according to a tradition long preserved in his family, Sir Henry Lee of Ditchley, with a large dog, the perfect resemblance of Bevis. Mr. Townsend, however, thinks he flourished about a century earlier than the Woodstock hero, and was the same with the Sir H. Lee whose verses to Queen Elizabeth, on his retiring from 48 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAU. the tilt yard in consequence of old age, are preserved in Wai- pole's " Antiquities." The strange thing is that Sir Walter knew nothing of this picture till after " Woodstock " was pub- lished. "Told her the story of old Steady Baker, the Mayor of Folkestone, whom I well remember. A boy was brought before him for stealing gooseberries. Baker turned over ' Burn's Justice,' but not being able to find the article he wanted in the book, which is alphabetically arranged, he lifted up his spectacles, and addressed the culprit thus : ' My lad, it 's very lucky for you that instead of stealing gooseberries, you are not brought here for stealing a goose ; there is a statute against stealing geese, but I can't find anything about goose- berries in all " Burn "; so let the prisoner be discharged, for I suppose it is no offense.' " " October, 1831. Sir Walter Scott came to town on his way to Malta, and visited Dr. Hughes. Is much sunk in spirits, and told the doctor, on taking leave, that ' he saw a broken man ! ' in spirit, of course, as his circumstancesare now re- viving. He still, however, retains gleams of his former humor, and told with almost his usual glee the story of a placed minister, near Dundee, who, in preaching on Jonah, said : ' Ken ye, brethren, what fish it was that swallowed him ? Aiblins ye may think it was a shark nae, nae, my brethren, it ways nae shark ; or aiblins ye may think it was a saumon nae, nae, my brethren, it was nae saumon ; or aib- lins ye may think it was a dolphin nae, nae, my brethren, it was nae dolphin ' " Here an old woman, thinking to help her pastor out of a dead lift, cried out, ' Aiblins, sir, it was a dunter ! ' (the vul- gar name of a species of whale common to the Scotch coast). " ' Aiblins, madam, ye 're an auld witch for taking the word o' God out of my mouth ! ' was the reply of the disappointed rhetorician. " Mr. Lonsdale, late chaplain to the Archbishop, dined there, and, in a conversation which ensued, mentioned his having, in a late tour, fallen in with the late Dominie Sampson. This SfA WALTER SCOTT. 49 gentleman was a Mr. Thompson, the son of the placed minis- ter of Melrose, and himself in orders, though without a manse. He had lived for many years as chaplain in Sir Walter's fam- ily, and was tutor to his children, who used to take advantage of his absence of mind to open the window while he was lect- uring, get quietly out of it and go to play, a circumstance he would rarely perceive. Sir Walter had many opportunities of procuring him a benefice, but never dared avail himself of them, satisfied that his absence of mind would only bring him into scrapes if placed in a responsible situation. Mr. T. was once very nearly summoned before the Synod for reading the 'Visitation of the Sick' service from our Liturgy to a poor man confined to his bed by illness." "July 3, 1833. Visit to Mrs. Hughes at Kingston, Lisle. From letters of Sir Walter Scott, it appears that Lord Webb Somerset, brother to the Duke of Beaufort, was the author of the note to ' Rokeby ' containing the legend of Littlecote Hall, and that Miss Hayman furnished him with the ballad, ' The spirit of the blasted tree ' in ' Marmion.' " Dandie Dinmont was one Jamie Davison, who lived in Liddesdale, and died in September, 1823. When the minister, who had paid him several visits during his illness, called for the last time on the morning of his death, the good man in- quired as to the state of his mind : " ' Eh minister, ye 're vara gude and Ise muckle obleeged to ye ; eh, sir, it 's a great mercy that I sulde be able to look out of window the morn and get a sight o' the hounds ; it 's just a mercy they sulde rin this way. 'T wad ha' bin too much for a puir sinner like to ha' expeckit a sight o' the tod ! sae thank the Lord for a' things ! ' " The circumstances attending Tony Foster's death as de- scribed in ' Kenilworth,' are taken from a real incident re- corded in. the third volume of the Due de St. Simon's memoirs. There an account is given of the death of an avaricious Master of Requests at Lyons, named Pecoil, who had contrived a re- cess within his cellar closed by a heavy iron door, within which he was in the habit of depositing his hoards. By some means 4 5O RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM the lock at last got hampered, and on one of his visits he was unable to let himself out again. He was eventually discov- ered lying on his treasures dead, and having previously begun to gnaw one of his arms. " Mrs. Hughes repeated several anecdotes which she had heard from the mouth of Sir Walter himself ; among them one of Lady Johnson, sister to the late Earl of Buchan and Lord Erskine, and widow of Sir J. Johnson. When on her death- bed, a few hours prior to her dissolution, she had her notice attracted by the violence of a storm which was raging with great fury out of doors. Motioning with her hand to have the curtains thrown open, she looked earnestly at the window through which the lightning was flashing very vividly, and exclaimed to her attendants : ' Gude faith, but it 's an unco awfu' night for me to gang bleezing through the lift ! ' " Another story told by Sir Walter was of a drunken old laird who fell off his pony into the water while crossing a ford in Ettrick. " ' Eh, Jock,' he cried to his man, ' there 's some puir body fa'en into the water ; I heard a splash ; who is it, man ? ' " ' Troth, laird, I canna tell ; forbye it 's no yersell,' said John, dragging him to the bank. The laird's wig meantime had fallen off into the stream, and John in putting it on again had placed it inside out. This, and its being thoroughly soaked, annoyed the old gentleman, who refused to wear it: " ' Deil ha' my saul, it 's nae my ain wig ; what for do \T no get me my ain wig, ye ne'er-do-weel ? ' "' Eh, then, laird, ye '11 no get ony ither wig the night, sae e'en pit it on again. There 's nae sic a wale of wigs in the burnie I jalouse.' " Another of his stories was of a party of Highland gentle- men who continued drinking three whole days and nights suc- cessively, without intermission : " ' Hech, sirs,' cried one at last, ' but McKinnon looks gash ! ' " ' What for should he no,' returned his neighbor, ' has na the chiel been dead these twa hoors ? ' S/K WALTER SCOTT. 51 '' ' Dead ! ' repeated his friend, ' an ye did na' tell us be- fore ! ' " ' Hoot, man,' was the answer, ' what for should I ha' spoiled gude company for sic a puir bit bodie as yon ? ' ' Sir Walter Scott declared to Mrs. Hughes that, many years before the event took place, he had heard of a prophecy in the Seaforth family, uttered, or said to have been uttered by a second-sighted clansman more than a century before, to the effect that " when the Chisholm and the Fraser should be baith deaf, and the M'Pherson (? M'Kenzie) born with a buck tooth, the male line of the Fraser should become extinct, and that a white-hooded lassie should come from ayont the sea and inherit a'." All these contingencies happened in the late Lord Seaforth's time, who, on reverting to the prophecy, showed two fine lads, his sons, to Sir Walter, and observed, " After all 's said and done, I think these boys will ding the prophet after all." He was wrong, however. The two boys died im- mediately before their father, and the present Lady Hood, a widow, came from India after his decease and inherited the property. The prophecy is said to have included yet another family misfortune, and to have foretold that the white-hooded lassie (the widow's cap is clearly alluded to in the epithet) should cause the death of her own sister. This also came to pass. By the upset of a pony carriage which Mrs. Stuart M'Kenzie (as Lady Hood had become by marriage) was driving, her sister was instantaneously killed on the spot, and she herself so fearfully injured about the face as to be compelled to wear, for the remainder of her life, a head-dress of a fashion which enabled her to conceal the greater part of her countenance under bands of black velvet. " Sir Walter Scott," Mr. Barham goes on to say, " gave Mrs. Hughes an account of his visit to Warrender House, the seat of Sir George Warrender, at Burntfields, near Edinburgh. He stated that on an architect being called in to make some repairs there on a large scale, he could not make the ground plan agree with the interior measurement of the edifice. After 52 RICHARD HARRIS BAR HAM. much discussion he found an old doorway, which the servants assured him was a false one and ' led nowhere.' Recurring in his plan, however, he suspected that the deficient quantity must be in its vicinity, and accordingly, determined to have it opened. It was strongly fastened, but was at length removed, when behind it he found three small rooms, the-farthest one fitted up as a bed-room, with two silver candlesticks on the toilet table, the candles burnt down in the sockets. Hali- burnt embers were on the hearth ; and an old-fashioned but very handsome dressing-gown was hanging over the back of a chair at the foot of which was a pair of slippers. The bed ap- peared to have been left disarranged as when quitted by its last occupant. Not any of the family then living were aware of the existence of these rooms, nor was there any tradition as to the name or character of their inmates. It was also said by Sir George, at the same time, that 'he had been assured by members of the family that at Glamis Castle there was a se- cret room, the mode of approaching which was never known to more than the possessor and the heir apparent of the prop- erty." CHARLES DIGGLE. Of Diggle Mr. Barham used to tell many absurd stories : how, for instance, he used to steal the shoe-strings of Isaac Hill, the second master, and avowed his intention of continu- ing the robbery till he got enough to form a line that would reach from one end of the school to the other (seventy feet), but was unluckily removed from school before he had half ac- complished his task. The most amusing, however much to be condemned, of his practical jokes was one in which his friend Barham also had a share. The two boys having, in the course of one of their walks, discovered a Quakers' meeting-house, forth- with procured a penny tart of a neighboring pastry-cook ; furnished with this, Diggle marched boldly into the building, and holding up the delicacy in the midst of the grave assembly, said with perfect solemnity, " Whoever speaks first shall have this pie." " Friend, go thy way," commenced a drab-colored gentle- man, rising ; " go thy way and " BARHAM'S COLLEGE LIFE. 53 " The pie 's yours, sir ! " exclaimed Master Diggle politely and placing it before the astounded speaker hastily effected his escape. BARHAM'S COLLEGE LIFE. College life, more especially at that day, was likely to pre- sent numerous and sore temptations to one who was overflow- ing with good-nature and high spirits, and whose early loss had not only placed a perilous abundance of funds at his dis- posal, but had left him, as it happened, utterly unchecked by parental counsel and authority, for his mother, a confirmed invalid, had for some time been incapable of exercising any control over his conduct. Of his guardians, on the other hand, but one busied himself at all in his affairs ; and of him, the attorney before alluded to, the youth had come to conceive a strong dislike, a feeling not unmixed with suspicion, which proved but too well founded, of the man's honesty. It was scarcely to be expected that such an ordeal should be passed through without scathe. Brasenose, too, was an expensive college : it was commonly reported that the Principal " hated a college of paupers," and the young men were ready enough in this respect to follow the cue which they believed had been given. Mr. Barham, like many others, spent there a great deal of money to very little purpose. Among other extravagances gaming was the fashion there as elsewhere. Whether, indeed, college " hells " were in existence at that time, as they cer- tainly were a generation later, I am not able to say, but a good deal of high play went on, and although this was certainly a vice to which my father had no natural inclination, he was on one occasion induced to join a party at "unlimited loo." or something of the sort, and with the happiest result he lost heavily ; a great deal more, that is to say, than he was in a condition to pay. Direct communication on such a subject with the lawyer at Canterbury was on many accounts extremely distasteful. A lecture from him would have proved particu- larly galling ; there was nothing for it, therefore, but to apply to Lord Rokeby, and this Mr. Barham did, earnestly begging 54 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. him to authorize the advance of a sum, from the property in trust, sufficient to discharge the obligation. Lord Rokeby very decidedly, and it need hardly be said very properly, declined to accede, to the request. As a guardian, he said, he could not for a moment entertain the question, but he very good- naturedly added, that as a friend he would give the money. The present showed tact as well as kindness, and clearly ren- dered any second application of the sort impossible. And it is a fact that, from that day to his last, Mr. Barham held en- tirely aloof, not only from gambling in the ordinary sense of the word, but from speculation of every kind and degree. A railway investment he looked upon as a certain step towards utter ruin ; and when one of the most accomplished of pro- jectors, a gentleman who had succeeded in getting some very, pretty sport, especially among the clergy, called on him with the prospectus of a certain Cornish mining company, and tried hard to persuade him to join with many of his brethren in the adventure, his habitual distrust was not to be overcome : " Tell me candidly," asked he, " all exaggeration apart, what dividend do you really calculate will be paid ? " " Not one farthing short of twenty per cent. ! " " You are in earnest ? " " Absolutely in earnest, on my honor." " Thank you that is rather too good a thing for me to meddle with. I wish you all possible success, and a very good morning ! " and he buttoned up his pocket, bowed out his friend, and could never be persuaded to resume the negotia- tion. Those who persisted in the scheme two of his inti- mate friends among the number were ruined, or nearly ruined, by its collapse. His reply to Mr. Hodson, his tutor, afterwards Principal of Brasenose, will convey some notion of the hours he was wont to keep. This gentleman, who, doubtless discerning, spite of an apparent levity, much that was amiable and high-minded in his pupil, treated him with marked indulgence, sent for him on one occasion to demand an explanation of his continued ab- sence from morning chapel. ANECDOTE OF HARLEY THE COMEDIAN. 55 " The fact is, sir," urged his pupil, " you are too late for me." " Too late ? " repeated the tutor, in astonishment. "Yes, sir too late. I cannot sit up till seven o'clock in the morning : I am a man of regular habits ; and unless I get to bed by four or five at latest, I am really fit for nothing next day." An impertinence better rebuked by the look of dignified displeasure which it called up, than by any amount of punish- ment that could have been inflicted. All affectation was cast aside on the instant an apology sincerely offered, and silently accepted. ANECDOTE OF HARLEY THE COMEDIAN. The Whig Club patronized the drama, which was then rep- resented at Canterbury by a travelling company under the management of a certain Mrs. Baker. The principal light comedian was a youth as yet " to fortune and to fame un- known," but destined ere long to win the smiles of both no other than the late popular favorite, Mr. Harley. He often used to tell how he was extricated from one of his early pro- fessional difficulties by the aid, good-naturedly offered, of my father. Harley had been cast for the part of Goldfinch in " The Road to Ruin," but the resources of the establishment were limited, and the wardrobe afforded no dress better suited to the character than an old tarnished lace frock of Macheath's, with a pair of jack-boots to match the whole much too large for the figure of the young actor. There was no time to say nothing of money to provide a more appropriate costume, and in his embarrassment he consulted Mr. Barham, who was a constant visitor both before and behind the curtain. The latter settled the matter at once by presenting him with a com- plete suit of his own. It consisted of a green single-breasted coat with gilt buttons, a crimson waistcoat, edges and pockets trimmed with fur, buff buckskin breeches, top-boots, and silver spurs ! Harley was delighted, so it is to be hoped was the au- dience ; assuredly a more complete buck of the period was never before presented to their notice. 56 RICHARD HARRIS XARHAM. WITCHCRAFT. Among my father's memoranda I find an account, abridged from Scott's curious work, of a case of witchcraft which oc- curred at the village of Westwell in the reign of Elizabeth, and which was professionally treated with marked success by the minister of the parish : " I will begin with a true story of a witch practicing her dia- bolical witchcraft and ventriloquie anno 1574, at Westwell, in Kent, within six miles of where I dwell, taken and noted down by two ministers of God's Word, four substantial yeomen, and three women of good fame and reputation, whose names are after- written. October 13. Mildred, the base daughter of Alice Norrington, and now servant to Will. Spooner, of West- well Co. Kent, being of the age of seventeen years, was pos- sessed with Satan in the day and night aforesaid. About two o'clock in the afternoon of the same day there came to the said Spooner's house Roger Newman, minister of Westwell, John Brainford, minister of Kinington, with others whose names are unwritten, who made their prayer to God to assist them in that needful case, and then commanded Satan in the name of the Holy Trinity to speak with such a voice as they might understand, and to declare from whence he came." At first the dqvil proved refractory, but the exercisers insist- ing, he confessed that he had been sent to the girl by "old Alice," who, among other things, had moved him to kill three persons, Edward Agar, a gentleman of forty pounds by the year, his child, and Wolton's wife ; and that finally he was commissioned by the said " old Alice " to kill the possessed. The devil being exorcised and driven out, an account was drawn up, signed, and testified as aforesaid. Eventually the girl was arrested as an impostor, confessed her crime, and received "condigne punishment." According to Scott the trick was managed by means of ven- triloquism. The Holy Maid of Kent is also said by him to have practiced the same art. A second extract from the same volume (p. 61 of the edition of 1654) runs as follows : BARffAM AMONG SMUGGLERS. 57 " I remember another story written in ' Malleus Malefi- carmn,' repeated by Bodmin, that one soldier called Punker daily throughout witchcraft killed with his bowe and arrows three of the enemies as they stood peeping over the walls of a castle besieged, so as in the end he killed them all quite, saving one. The triall of the archer's sinister dealing and a proof thereof expressed is for that he never lightly failed when he shot, and for that he killed them by three a day, and had shot three arrows into a rod. This was he that shot at a. peny on his sonnes head and made ready another arrow to have slaine the Duke that commanded it." l Query, origin of William Tell ? BARHAM AMONG SMUGGLERS. The villages which formed his new cure (Warehorn) were about two miles apart and situated, the former in, the latter on the verge of, Rommey Marsh ; and, as may be supposed, they abounded, even more than the spot he had just quitted in desperadoes engaged in what, by a technical euphemism, was termed " The Free Trade." But, notwithstanding the reckless character of these men, the rector met with nothing of outrage or incivility at their hands. Many a time indeed, on returning homewards late at night, has he been challenged by a half seen horseman who looked in the heavy gloom like some misty condensation a little more substantial than ordinary fog, but on making known his name and office, he was invariably allowed to pass on with a " Good-night, it 's only parson ! " while a long and shadowy line of mounted smugglers, each with his led horse laden with tubs, filed silently by. Nay, they even extended their familiarity so far as to make the church itself a depot for contraband goods ; and on one occasion a large seizure of tobacco had been made in the Snargate belfry calumny contended for the discovery of a keg of hollands under the vestry-table. When it is added, that the nightly wages, paid whether a cargo was run or not, were at the raf.e of seven and sixpence to an unarmed man, 1 Scott's Discovery of Witchcraft, book vii. 58 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. and fifteen shillings to one who carried his cutlass and pis- tols, little surprise can be felt if nearly the whole population pursued more or less so profitable an avocation. The district, moreover, appears up to a late period to have been utterly neglected in point of religious instruction and superintendence. It seems to have been one of the last strongholds of the Trullibers. Will it be credited that in the nineteenth century one of the reverend gentlemen in question has been known on a Sabbath-day to cart a load of bricks, in proprid persond, to the church-yard, for the purpose of repair- ing the chancel ? Such was the fact. Indeed, it was this gentleman's ordinary custom, living as he did at some distance from his cure, to drive over on a Sunday at any hour which might happen to be most conven- ient, and, having put up his horse and gig, to enter the public- house parlor and there sit down to discuss the state of the markets over a glass of toddy and a pipe with the landlord, who was parish clerk as well, together with any neighbors who might happen to drop in. Meanwhile a lad was dis- patched to ring the bell, and by the time the rest of the con- gregation had assembled, the rector and his company were usually ready to repair to the church, where, after a fashion, divine service was performed. But one blunder Mr. unfortunately committed he outlived his age. Old friends died off, new parishioners intruded, a stricter discipline was on all sides growing up; and one day before the cheering would that we could say not inebriating glass was emptied, or the fragrant " screw " half consumed, the bell suddenly and unexpectedly stopped ! What could it mean ? off started clerk and clergyman, indignant at the interruption, to ascertain its cause, and discovered to their consternation a stranger in the reading desk. It was the Rural Dean ! What steps were subsequently taken I do not remember to have heard, but they were such as to relieve Mr. of the necessity of hurrying over his Sunday morning's refreshment for the future. It is recorded of the same individual that even during di- vine service it was not unfrequent for him to mingle secular A CASE OF MONOMANIA. 59 matters with divine, in a manner no less ludicrous than inde- corous leaning, for example, over his churchwarden's pew as he passed from the reading desk to the pulpit, and observing, as the result of long and recently concluded deliberation, " Well, Smithers, I '11 have that pig." A CASE OF MONOMANIA. I may here introduce a somewhat singular occurrence which took place at the residence of another clergyman in this neighborhood ; one, however, it is to be observed, in every re- spect the opposite of the gentleman just mentioned. He had lost a beloved daughter, under circumstances peculiarly affect- ing. She was playing in the garden in high spirits and ap- parent health, when suddenly approaching her father she looked up in his face, and saying, " Father, take care of my fowls ! " without another word laid her head upon his knees and died. The blow was stunning, and Mr. never en- tirely recovered from its effects. For some months his reason was despaired of, and though afterwards restored to cope in full vigor with ordinary subjects, it sank into monomania on the mention of one his daughter ! A belief took full possession of his mind that he was con- stantly subject to the visits of his lost child ; he intimated, moreover, that the spirit spoke of poison having been ad- ministered, and urgently pressed upon him the avenging of the murder. In the earlier stages of the disease, his friends entertained hopes of reasoning or rallying him out of so dis- tressing a delusion. Mr. Barham, among the rest, being present at his table, took an opportunity of addressing to him some skeptical remarks on the theory of apparitions. ' I sincerely hope, sir," replied his host, " you may never have occasion to change your opinion ; but, unless I greatly err, your unbelief will meet with a manifest check in the course of this very night." The words had scarcely passed his lips, when the party was startled by a loud noise, as of a falling body, proceeding from the hall. Mr. looked round with an air of calm triumph, 60 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. while his guest, not altogether convinced that the interruption was necessarily to be attributed to spiritual agency, opened the door to ascertain its cause. He returned with his own hat which had been dislodged, probably by the wind which happened to be unusually high, from the wall. " You see, gentlemen, I am no false prophet," said the host quietly. "Well," urged Mr. Barham, half annoyed at the aptitude of the accident, " if that be the handiwork of your familiar, I should take it as a favor if you would represent to him or her, as the case may be, that, as the hat happens to be my best"- " Oh ! " interrupted the seer, "if you are still dis- posed to treat the matter with levity, we will drop it at once." Dropped accordingly it was, leaving the unfortunate gentle- man more confirmed than ever in his visionary creed. A POETICAL INVITATION. Of the many amusing trifles which he was in the habit of addressing to his friends, one of the best, perhaps, is an invita- tion to Dr. Wilmot of Ashford, conveyed under the form of a parody on " O Nanny, wilt thou gang with me ? " " O Doctor ! wilt thou dine with me, And drive on Tuesday morning down? Can ribs of beef have charms for thee The fat, the lean, the luscious brown ? No longer dressed in silken sheen, Nor decked with rings and brooches rare, Say, wilt thou come in velveteen, Or corduroys that never tear ? " O Doctor I when thou com 'st away, Wilt thou not bid John ride behind, On pony, clad in livery K* v i To mark the birds our pointers find? I>et him a flank of darkest green Replete with cherry brandy bear, That we may still, our toil* between, That fascinating fluid share ! " O Doctor ! canst thou aim so true, As we through briars and bramble* go, To reach the partridge brown of hue, And lay the mounting pheasant low ? RUSTIC SIMPLICITY. 6l Or should, by chance, it so befall Thy path be crossed by timid hare, Say, wilt thou for the game-bag call, And place the fur-clad victim there ? "And when at last the dark'ning sky Proclaims the hour of dinner near, Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh, And quit thy sport for homely cheer? The cloth withdrawn, removed the tray Say, wilt thou, snug in elbow-chair, The bottle's progress scorn to stay, But fill, the fairest of the fair ? " THE FATE OF A HARE. Some similar lines were dispatched to the great man of the neighborhood, " Squire " Hodges, who hunted the Marsh coun- try with a scratch pack of beagles, and had happened to lose his hare in the Rectors cabbage-garden : BENEVOLENCE. " The lark sings loud, 't is early morn, These woodland scenes among, The deep-toned pack and echoing horn Their jovial notes prolong. " And see poor puss, with shortened bseath, Splashed sides, and weary feet, In terror views approaching death, And crouches at my feet ! " Her strength is gone, her spirits fail, Nor farther can she fly ; The hounds snuff up the tainted gale, And nearer sounds the cry. " Poor helpless wretch ! methinks I view Thee sink beneath their power ! Methinks I see the ruffian crew Thy tender limbs devour! " Yet oh I in vain thy foes shall come : So cheer thee, trembling elf ! These guardian arms shall bear thee home ' I '11 eat thee up myself!'' 62 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. RUSTIC SIMPLICITY. A genuine and touching instance of simplicity is noted down by my father as having been told to him by Mr. Baber of the British Museum. "A short time after Mr. Baber, who succeeded Mr. Beloe at the British Museum, had entered upon his office as one of the keepers, he attended a party from the west of England over the building, and explained, in his official capacity, many of the curiosities which it contains. In one of the rooms he pointed out to their observation a collection of beautiful an- tique vases, all of which, he informed them, had been dug up at Herculaneum. One of the party echoed his words with the greatest astonishment. " ' Yes, sir, dug up, sir ? ' " ' What, out of the ground ? ' " ' Undoubtedly.' " ' What, just as they now are ? ' " ' Perhaps some little pains may have been taken in clean- ing them, but in all other respects they were found just as you see them.' The Somersetshire sage turning to one of his companions with a most incredulous shake of the head assured him in an audible whisper, " * He may say what he likes, but he shall never per- suade me that they ever dug up ready-made pots out of the ground ? ' " ANECDOTE OF LORD ELDON. Diary: June l, 1822. Anecdote of Lord Chancellor Eldon narrated to me by Dr. Blomberg. " The Chancellor is very fond of shooting, and usually re- tires into the country for six weeks towards the end of the season, where he is in the habit of riding a little Welsh pony, for which he gave fifty shillings. One morning last year his lordship intending to enjoy a few hours' sport after a rainy night, ordered 'Bob,' the pony, to be saddled. Lady Kl gives one especially marvelous case of what he terms " the predominance of ideas : " " A butcher," he says, " was brought into a druggist's shop (at Edinburgh ) from the market-place opposite, laboring un- der a terrible accident. The man, on trying to hook up a heavy piece of meat above his head, slipped, and the sharp hook penetrated his arm, so that he himself was suspended. On being examined, he was pale, almost pulseless, and expressed himself as suffering acute agony. The arm could not be moved without causing excessive pain, and in cutting off the sleeve he frequently cried out ; yet when the arm was exposed it was found to be quite uninjured, the hook having only traversed the sleeve of his coat." 72 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. The same author allows that, in like manner, so far from its being improbable that real cures are occasionally effected through the medium of the imagination, " all that we know of the effects of confident promises on the one hand, .and belief on the other, render it very likely that such have occurred." The case that fell under Mr. Barham's observation was that of an old friend, Major Hart. I can remember him (for he was fond of children, fond, that is to say, of teasing them, and children were of course fond of him), a slight, short man with a pale face, white hair, and glittering eyes, and the possessor of a certain bright shilling which was the object of my thoughts by day and my dreams by night. As an officer in the Rifle Brigade, he had seen a good deal of service ; had been frequently and severely wounded ; and was now sinking under a complication of disorders, of which partial paralysis was one. He had become utterly prostrate. The country doctors he was living, I believe, at Maidstone shook their heads, and admitted they could do no more. Then it was that some one whispered " Try mesmerism ! " Hart caught at the suggestion at once. There was in London, at this time, a professor of animal magnetism, whose fame had reached even unto Maidstone. His success was wonderful. Every human ill, old age scarcely excepted, was to be cured by some new and occult process, of which he was the fortunate discoverer. If men persisted in dying of disease, it was simply through their own willfulness, obstinacy, and incredulity. To this man the Major was determined to apply, and although he had been for several weeks considered incapable of quiting his bedroom, he insisted upon being placed in a carriage and conveyed to my father's house in town. With the assistance of a servant, the coachman, and Mr. Barham. he was removed from the vehicle to the apartment prepared for him. After resting \\ couple of days, during which he scarcely spoke, he was, in like manner, lifted into a hackney coach and driven off to the res- idence of the celebrated practitioner. The same care was necessary and was observed in carrying the patient into the consulting room, so completely unable was he to take a step, MESMERISM. 73 or even to stand, without the support of others. Placed gasping into a chair he was submitted to the keen, and for some time silent, examination of the doctor. At length the latter turned to my father and spoke to this effect : " You must be quite aware, sir, that exaggerated notions of my invention, as of everything displaying great and incom- prehensible power, have got abroad. I am not, however, the charlatan that people would make me out. Sufferers are con- stantly brought here to whom I can hold out no hope of relief, and with whom I would rather have nothing to do. I am nev- ertheless perhaps obliged to operate, and little or no good follows. Now, sir, the case of your friend, on the contrary, I undertake with the utmost satisfaction. It is in every par- ticular, both as regards his temperament and the character of his disorder, precisely the case adapted to the influence I shall bring to bear upon it. I have never met a subject whom I have approached with more perfect confidence. I stake my reputation upon a cure." " Credat Judceus ! " thought my father, and the gentleman continued : " A great effect will doubtless be produced this very morn- ing, but it will be the work of some time, during which I re- quire to be left alone with my patient. Call again in an hour and you shall judge for yourself." My father was inclined to object to the dismissal. " Better go, Barham," said the Major in a tone distinct and clear, very different from that he had hitherto employed, and Barham went. He took the opportunity of transacting some business in the neighborhood, by which he was detained a few minutes beyond the time specified. Finding he was late, he took a co^ch and drove back, with the intention of carrying away his friend in it. "Is Major Hart ready ? " he inquired of the servant who opened the door. " The Major, sir, was tired of waiting, so he has walked on ; he said you would be sure to overtake him before he got home, he should n't hurry." 74 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. " Hurry ! " exclaimed my father, " why he can't move I am speaking of the gentleman you helped to carry in." " Yes, sir ; that is the gentleman he has walked on." At this moment out came the doctor himself, " It is quite true," he said ; " Major Hart has left the house, and insisted upon walking." " Impossible!" " It is nevertheless so. His sensibility is even greater than I expected to find it ; his cure will be proportionably rapid ; meanwhile you had better perhaps overtake him as soon as you can, and persuade him to ride the remainder of the dis- tance." Half pleased, half alarmed, and wholly bewildered, Mr. Barham hurried away, and ere long caught sight of his friend looking contentedly into the window of a print shop. The change worked in him was certainly to all seeming nothing short of miraculous. He could walk, use his limbs freely, was free from pain, and in the highest possible spirits, overflowing with gratitude to his benefactor and respect for science. He admitted he was a little tired, so got into a coach and returned to Queen Street. Towards evening his new strength gradually died away. By next morning it was clean gone ; and on the third day he was again all but speechless. A second visit to the doctor was paid, and a repetition of the treatment at- tempted, but faith had in the interval expired, and no further effect could be produced. He said he would go back to Kent and die comfortably at home. Happily he was enabled to reach his home alive ; and the next news we heard of him was that one sunny afternoon, as he sat by the window in his easy chair with his Bible before him, he closed the book, lay back and fell asleep, passing out of life so imperceptibly that his niece, who was sitting opposite, was for some time unaware that he was dead. EDWARD CANNON. His appointment in the Chapel Royal led to an acquaint- ance, which quickly ripened into a warm friendship, with the EDWARD CANNON. 75 Rev. Edward Cannon, also one of the priests of the house- hold, and who for many years previously had been on intimate terms with the family of Mrs. Barham. This singular being, introduced to the world under the name of Godfrey Moss, in Theodore Hook's celebrated novel " Maxwell," claims some notice, the more so as he has scarcely met with justice at the hands of his facetious friend. For a general idea of his mannerism, I can but refer to the striking portrait referred to, one of the most perfect ever com- mitted to paper. As he is there depicted, so precisely did he live and move in daily life not an eccentricity is exagger- ated, not an absurdity heightened i It is, however, to be regretted that the great master restricted himself to the de- lineating the less worthy features of the outward and visible man, and touched but lightly those high and noble traits of character which had gone far to relieve the mass of cynicism and selfishness but too correctly drawn. Mr. Cannon, was, in fact, both a spoiled and a disappointed man. Brought up under the immediate care of Lord Thur- low, his brilliant wit, his manifold accomplishments, and, as may be hardly credited by those who knew him only in his decline, his fascinating manners, procured him a host of dis- tinguished admirers and proved an introduction to the table of royalty itself. A welcome guest at Carlton House, Stow, and other mansions of the nobility, patronized by the Lord Chan- cellor, courted and caressed by men to say nothing of women of the highest rank and influence, he might possi- bly have become too extravagant or too impatient in his ex- pectations : while more reasonable views would scarcely have been met by a chaplaincy to the Prince of Wales, and a lect- ureship at St. George's, Hanover Square the only prefer- ment he ever obtained. This neglect, as he esteemed it, was especially calculated to work evil on a disposition naturally independent to a fault, and associated, as it was, with a humor tinctured overmuch with bitterness. His caprices indulged and fostered, and his hope delayed, he fell gradually into utter disregard of all the amenities and conventional laws of society. 76 KICHAKD HAKKJS BAKHAAT. The extreme liberties he began to take, and the burst of sar- casm, which he took the less heed to restrain as he advanced in years, deprived him betimes of all his powerful patrons, and at the last alienated most of his more attached friends. At one of the annual dinners of the members of the Chapel Royal, a gentleman had been plaguing Mr. Barham with a somewhat dry disquisition on the noble art of fencing. Wish- ing to relieve himself of his tormentor, the latter observed that his crippled hand had precluded him from indulging in that amusement ; but pointing to Cannon who sat opposite, he added, " That gentleman will better appreciate you ; he was an enthusiastic admirer of fencing in his youth." After a few minutes the disciple of Angelo contrived to slip round the table, and commenced a similar attack upon Can- non. For some time he endured it with patience, till at length, on his friend's remarking that Sir George D was a great fencer, Cannon, who disliked the man, replied, " I don't know whether Sir George D is a great fencer, but Sir George D is a great fool." A little startled, the other rejoined, " Well, possibly he is ; but then a man may be both." " So I see, sir ! " said Cannon, turning away. As regards the circumstances which led immediately to his dismissal from the palace, his conduct was certainly not chargeable with blame, but was the natural working of an unbending spirit which scorned to flatter even princes. Possessing, in addition to the attractions of his conversa- tion, the charm of a voice so unusually sweet as to have gained him the name of Silver-tongue Cannon, he was ad- mitted to the more select parties of the Prince of Wales, where his great musical taste and talent not unfrequently pro- cured him the honor of accompanying his royal master on the pianoforte. On one occasion, at the termination of the piece, the Prince inquired, " Well, Cannon, how did I sing that ?" Cannon continued to run over the keys, but without making any reply. " I asked you, Mr. Cannon, how I sang that last song, and EDWARD CANNON. 77 I wish for an honest answer," repeated the Prince. Thus pointedly appealed to, Cannon, of course, could no longer re- main silent. " I think, sir," said he, in his quiet and peculiar tone, " I have heard your Royal Highness succeed better." " Sale and Atwood," observed the latter sharply, " tell me I sing that as well as any man in England." " They, sir, may be better judges than I pretend to be," re- plied Cannon. George the Fourth was too well bred as well as too wise a man to manifest open displeasure at the candor of his guest, but in the course of the evening, being solicited by the lat- ter for a pinch of snuff, a favor which had been hesitatingly accorded a hundred times before, he closed the box, placed it in Mr. Cannon's hand, and turned abruptly away. 1 A gentle- man in waiting quickly made his appearance, for the purpose of demanding back the article in question, and of intimating at the same time that it would be more satisfactory if its possessor forthwith withdrew from the apartment. Cannon at first refused to restore what he chose to consider no other than a present. " The creetur gave it me with his own hand," he urged, " if he wants it back let him. come and say so himself." It was represented, however, that the Prince regarded its detention in a serious light, and was deeply offended at the want of respect which had led to it. The box was returned without further hesitation, and Mr. Cannon retired for the last time from the precincts of Carlton House. He was, however, not a man to permit a single affront to obliterate from his memory all traces of former kindness, and accordingly, when the trial of Queen Caroline had excited so much popular clamor against the Sovereign, Cannon was the first, on the termination of that affair, to get up and present an 1 Cannon had previously succeeded in affronting Mrs. Fitzherbert. On being asked by the lady what he thought of a new upright pianoforte which she had just purchased, he replied, scarcely deigning to examine it, " I think, Madam, it would make a very good cupboard to keep your bread and cheese in." 78 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. address from the inhabitants of the Isle of Wight to his royal master. Delighted at this seasonable exhibition of public approval, and not untouched, it may be, by the conduct of his former favorite, the King was all courtesy and condescension. " You are not looking well, Cannon," he observed, at length. " I am not so well, sir, as I have been," replied Cannon, with a meaning smile. " Well, well ! I must send Halford to prescribe for you," said the King. Nor did this prove to be an idle compliment ; in due time the physician of the household called, having it in command to tender to the invalid his professional assistance, and at the same time to intimate that he might expect to be received again at the royal parties. This honor Mr. Cannon bluntly and resolutely declined. On being pressed to give some explanation of his refusal, he merely answered, " I have been early taught when I want to say ' no ' and can say ' no,' to say ' no ' but never give a reason " a maxim which he had learned from his early protector, Lord Thurlow, and a neglect of which, the latter used to boast, had enabled him to carry an important point with his late Majesty George III. Thus it was : he had applied to that monarch on behalf of his brother for the Bishopric of Durham, and having some- what unexpectedly met with a refusal, he bowed and was about to retire without pressing his suit, when the monarch, wishing to soften his decision as far as possible, added, " Anything else I shall be happy to bestow upon your relative, but this unfortunately is a dignity never held but by a man of high rank and family." " Then, Sire," returned Lord Thurlow, drawing himself up, <; I must persist in my request I ask it for the brother of the Lord High Chancellor of England ! " The Chancellor was firm, and the King was compelled to yield. "He gave me his reasons," said the former, "and I beat him." With respect to Mr. Cannon, although he thought fit to de- EDWARD CANNON. 79 cline giving any explanation at the time, he was not so re- served on all occasions. " The creetur," he said, " has turned me out of his house once he shall not have the opportunity of doing so again." Of the many anecdotes of the Chancellor narrated by Can- non, I find but few preserved ; the following, however, are given on his authority : " The great Lord Thurlow passed the latter part of his life at Brighton, and died there it is said, while swearing at his servant. The present King (George IV.) having come down to the Pavilion, invited him to dinner, but knowing his man, thought proper to offer a sort of half apology for some of the company, among whom were Sir John Lade, and several char- acters of sporting notoriety. The sturdy old Chancellor lean- ing upon his cane, and looking his Royal Highness full in the face, replied, " Sir ! I make exceptions to no man. Sir John Lade, for instance, whom your Royal Highness has thought proper to mention by name, is an excellent character in his proper place, but that, with all due deference, I humbly con- ceive to be your Royal Highness's coach-box, and not your table." Again : "A Mr. Sneyd, a tall, thin man, nicknamed by George IV. ' The Devil's Darning Needle,' was much about Lord Thurlow during his last years, and had a sort of roving commission from him to pick up any stray genius he could lay hold of and bring him to the old nobleman's table. Coming in the stage- coach one day to Brighton Mr. Sneyd scraped an acquaintance with a fellow-traveller who turned out to be the celebrated J. P. Curran, and he eagerly invited his new friend to dine with Lord Thurlow, but some accident prevented his own attend- ance on the appointed day. Thurlow, who had heard much of Curran, when the cloth was removed, led the conversation to the state of the Irish bar, which Curran, who was at that time red-hot against the Union, abused in the lump with great vehemence. "' Timidity, my lord, and venality,' said he, 'are the bane 8O RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. of the Irish courts, and pervade them from the lowest to the highest* "'Indeed!' said Thurlow, 'pray what is the character of Lord ? ' (naming a particular friend of his own then on the Irish bench). *' ' Oh,' replied Curran, ' never was man less fitted for his position ; if he has any honesty in him, which is very prob- lematical, he is infinitely too great a poltroon to let it ap- pear.' " ' Humph ! ' quoth the Chancellor ' a bad account of him indeed, Mr. Curran. And pray what do you think then of Lord ? ' (naming another old crony also in the same rank). " ' As to him,' said the barrister, ' he is ten thousand times worse than the other. The venality of that man is such that no person, however just and clear his case may be, can hope for a verdict where he presides, unless he has contrived to bribe his judge into justice. In fact these two form an ad- mirable sample of Irish jurisprudence at it exists now all venality and cowardice ! ' "' In other words,' said the Chancellor, 'all the Irish law- yers are rascals ? ' " ' Pretty much so indeed, my lord.' " Here the conversation stopped. The next day Lord Thurlow attacked Mr. Sneyd for sending such a flippant fel- low to his table, adding that he saw nothing whatever in him. " ' Ah, my lord,' suggested Sneyd, ' that might be because there was no one present to draw the trigger.' " ' Sir,' replied the old nobleman, with one of his inveterate frowns, ' ask him to dine here again to-morrow, and be sure you are present and draw it yourself.' " Whatever version of Cannon's reply to Sir Henry Halford reached the King, and however much at first he may have been disposed to resent the rejection of his advances, the offender was nevertheless again forgiven and without being for- gotten. One circumstance certainly deserves to be mentioned as tending, in its degree, to invalidate those charges of self- EDWARD CANNON. 8l ishness and want of feeling which have been so lavishly di- rected against the best abused of all earthly monarchs. Many years afterwards, when Cannon, who, though of in- expensive tastes, was utterly regardless of money and almost ignorant of its value, and who generally carried all he re- ceived loose in his waistcoat pocket, giving it away to any one who seemed to need it, was himself severely suffering from the effects of ill-health and improvident liberality, the King, who accidentally heard of his melancholy condition, in- stantly made inquiries with a view of presenting him with some piece of preferment that might have served as a perma- nent provision ; but ascertaining that his habits had become such as to render any advancement in the clerical profession inexpedient, he, entirely unsolicited, sent his old favorite a check for a hundred pounds. This assistance proved most opportune and served to supply immediate necessities. Cannon was staying at the time at a small hotel on the banks of the Thames, near Twickenham, from which he was unable, or rather unwilling to depart, till his bill which had swollen to a somewhat formidable size was discharged. Mr. Barham, therefore, and another friend has- tened down to release him from a position which most people would have deemed embarrassing in the extreme. They found him, however, perfectly happy in his retirement ; clothed from head to foot in mine host's habiliments, and, altogether, ap- pearing so much better in health and spirits than could have been anticipated, that Mr. Barham was led to address some compliment to the landlady on the good looks of her guest. " Well, sir, to be sure," replied that worthy personage, "we have done our best to keep him tidy and comfortable, and if you had only seen him last Sunday, when he was washed and shai'ed, you really might have said he "*was looking well." He had formed, it appeared, a close intimacy with a monkey belonging to the establishment, and spent the principal por- tion of his time in its society, exchanging it occasionally for that of adventurous bipeds whom the steamboats, then " few and far between," landed at the Eyot, according as he found 6 82 RICHARD HARKIS BARHAM. them more or less intelligent than his quadrupedal compan- ion. Like his friend, Cannon was one of those who gave full as- sent to the poet's doctrine, " The best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from night," etc. And so resolutely did he carry it out in practice when the opportunity offered, as at times to cause no little inconvenience to his entertainers. After a dinner, for example, given by Mr. Stephen Price of Drury Lane Theatre, all the guests, with the exception of Cannon and Theodore Hook, having long since retired, the host, who was suffering from an incipient attack of gout, was compelled to allude pretty plainly to the lateness of the hour. No notice, however, was taken of the hint, and, unable to endure any longer the pain of sitting up, Mr. Price made some excuse and slipped quietly off to bed. On the fol- lowing morning he inquired of his servant " Pray, at what time did those gentlemen go last night ? " "Go, sir!" replied John; "they are not gone, sir: they have just rung for coffee ! " It was not to be supposed that these eccentricities could altogether escape episcopal observation, and although they met with considerable indulgence, a rebuke was sometimes unavoidable. Cannon, however, resented the slightest attempt at interference with a warmth and jealousy, ill-advised, to say the least of it. His hostility indeed to his diocesan, Dr. Blomneld, was not altogether to be attributed to private feel- ing ; and certainly it could not have been warranted by any treatment experienced at his hands. Many, however, of the bitter satires that appeared in the periodicals, directed against certain proceedings of" this eminent individual, were from Can- non's pen. More than one of the more powerful and more personal of these Mr. Barium was fortunate enough to save from publication. He borrowed the copy, and that once in his possession, he knew that Cannon was too indolent a man either to write another, or to persevere in demanding the EDWARD CANNON. 83 restoration of the original. Those, however, who have read the " Dives and Lazarus," and " Lines written on the exclusion of ill-dressed persons from seats in the Chapel Royal," though they can scarcely fail to admit that nothing produced by Byron or Churchill excelled them in pungency -will, neverthe- less, consider their suppression justifiable even by an act of friendly felony. That much of this caustic spirit sprang from blighted pros- pects, and was nurtured by the frequent supplies of his favor- ite " ginnums and water," there can be little doubt ; his nat- ural disposition was most amiable, and the kindness of his heart, and his complete freedom from selfishness in matters of importance, exhibited themselves in numberless instances, and never more conspicuously than in a case of self-denial which graced his declining days. He was summoned to the bedside of an old and valued friend ; the lady (for a lady it was like his "double," "Godfrey Moss," he had been a lady-killer in his time) announced to him that believing her health to be rapidly giving way she had made her will, by which, at her demise, the whole of a considerable fortune was to be placed at his disposal. Cannon looked at her doubt- fully : - " I don't believe it ! " he said, at length. The lady assured him that she was incapable of trifling on such a subject, and at such a moment ; and added, that the document itself was lying in an escritoire in the room. " I won't believe it," persisted the other, " unless I see it." Smiling at such incredulity, the lady placed the will in his hands. Cannon took it, and read it. " Well," said he, " if I had not seen it in your own hand- writing, I would not have believed you could have been such an unnatural brute ; " and he deliberately thrust the paper be- tween the bars of the grate. " What," he continued, " have you no one more nearly con- nected with you than I am, to leave your money to ? No one who has better reason to expect to be your heir, and who has a right to be provided for first and best ? Pooh ! you don't 84 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. know how to make a will. I must send Dance, a very re- spectable man in his way, red tape and parchment and all that he shall make 'your will ; you may leave me a legacy, there 's no harm in that. I am a poor man, and want it ; but I am not a-going to be d to please you." A new will was accordingly drawn up on Cannon's sug- gestion, bequeathing to him merely a sum of four thousand pounds. It will scarcely be credited that advantage was afterwards taken of a technical informality (in ignorance, it is to be hoped, of previous circumstances) to resist his claim even to this. It appeared that two copies of the will were executed ; one of which was retained in the custody of the testatrix, while the other was handed over to the care of a trustee. After a time, however, the lady sent for the dupli- cate, which was returned to her ; and on her death the two documents were found in a drawer folded up together. From one every name except Cannon's had been snipped out with a pair of scissors ; the other remained intact. Upon this it was contended that by mutilating one copy the testatrix had can- celed both ; and a precedent was alleged to be found in the case of a gentleman who, taking with him to India one copy of his will, which he subsequently destroyed, left another in the charge of his solicitor at home. This on being produced was pronounced void in virtue of the canceling of its fellow. It was urged in answer, that the precedent did not apply, in- asmuch as in the latter case the gentleman had revoked and destroyed the only instrument which was within his power, whereas in the former, both papers being in the hands of the testatrix, there was nothing to prevent her destroying both if she wished to make the revocation complete ; from her omit- ting to do so it was to be inferred that she repented of the change she had begun to make, and so reclaimed the unin- jured copy of the will, to which she determined to adhere. After the delay of more than a year a decision was given in Cannon's favor, and the remainder of his life relieved from further apprehension on the score of pecuniary distress. He withdrew, shortly afterwards, to Ryde, in the Isle of Wight, THEATRICAL ANECDOTES. 85 taking his accustomed seat on the pier, with a pertinacity that gained for him among the boatmen the sobriquet of the " Pier Gun." Want of exercise, and the slow poison he became a slave to, at length did their work. Like Swift to whom, in the general structure of his mind, in the power of his reason- ing, and in the peculiar bent of his humor, he bore no little resemblance his last hours were such as might well have aroused " The bitter pangs of humbled genius ; " they were those of one, " Marked above the rest, For qualities most dear, plunged from that height, And sunk, deep sunk, in second childhood's night." He died forgotten, and almost alone ; and it was left for a comparative stranger to raise the simple tablet that pleads for the memory of Edward Cannon. THEATRICAL ANECDOTES. " Diary : July 26, 1826. Dined with Lord Wiliam Lennox. Mr. Fawcett of Covent Garden told a story of an old woman and her daughter in a provincial town in Yorkshire. " ' Mither,' says the girl, ' there do go Mr. Irby agen.' " ' Ees, bairn, he be g'ween to ploy-house, I do suppose.' " ' Mither, what do Mr. Irby do at ploy-house ? Him be never on steage ? ' " ' Nay, girl, him be prompter.' " ' What be prompter, mither ? ' " ' Why prompter, bairn, be mon wid book, and when all be fast on steage, he lowses 'em.' " He also gave us an anecdote of Cooper of C. G. T., when on a provincial tour. The prompter of the company was a drunken, one-eyed fellow, who, having been born at Kidder- minster, was generally known at the theatre by the name of ' Kiddy.' From frequent attacks of rheumatic gout, he had become crippled in both his hands, and as the porter pot was never absent, was compelled to support it by applying the 86 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. knuckles of both his clenched fists in order to get it to his mouth. One evening, during the performance of a new play, all the dramatis persona on the stage came to a stand-still. ' Kiddy ' was loudly called on for the cue, but having been immersed for some minutes past, as usual, in contemplating the interior of his flagon, he had lost the place, and embar- rassed at the same time with the mug, he cried out to the ' call-boy, ' in a tone of voice which was heard, and caused no slight amusement in the stage boxes, " ' Little boy, little boy, come here and hold de pot, while I sees where these thieves be.' " ANECDOTE OF INDIAN OFFICER. " Cannon, who was present, and in most entertaining mood, told, among other things, his story of a general officer who, having passed many years of his life in India, was taken by a friend, on his return, to dine with some common relation. All parties being anxious to conciliate the nabob, who was rich, old, and a bachelor, every attention was shown him during dinner-time. The General, however, either from paucity of ideas, or from his regards being riveted upon the good things before him, was invincibly taciturn. " ' Pray, General,' said a female cousin on his left, ' how do you like India ?' " ' Hot, ma'am,' said the commander, scarcely raising his eyes from his basin of mulligatawney, ' Hot, very hot ! ' " Another pause ensued, which was broken by her brother on his right : " ' General, we have heard much in England lately of the increase of suttees in India : may I ask if the burning of a Hindoo widow ever came under your personal notice ? ' " ' Widow ! burning ! Oh, aye, it was very hot, sir, devil- ish hot, never so hot in my life ! ' " An excellent curry had now engaged his attention, when the general was again addressed by a tall, thin, antiquarian- looking personage, from the lower end of the table, CANNON'S SNUFF-TAKING. 87 " ' Pray, General, during the many years you spent in Asia, did duty or inclination ever carry you into the neighborhood of the celebrated caves of Elephanta ? ' " ' Elephanta ! Oh, ah, Elephanta the caves of course. Why, sir, it was very hot, devilish hot ; hot all the time I was there ; never was so hot in all my life ; sir, it was as hot as H !' " This climax, delivered with the only spark of energy which the worthy officer had as yet exhibited, completely precluded any further attempt to engage him in conversation, and the observant veteran was permitted to relapse into silence ; sev- eral of the party, however, declaring the next morning that they had derived much pleasure from their relation the Gen- eral's interesting description of the state of our Oriental em- pire. CANNON'S SNUFF-TAKING. " Repeate.d as much as I could recollect of the handbill respecting Cannon. The latter having gone off into the Isle of Wight with Vaughan, last Lent, without making any arrange- ment for the performance of his duty at St. George's, Hanover Square, a placard was, a few mornings after his arrival, affixed nearly opposite his window at the Bugle Horn Hotel, near the bottom of Ryde pier, to the following effect : " ' STOLEN OR STRAYED ! " ' A stout black horse of the punch breed. Face tan, with a brown mark under the nostrils, coat rough, with brown spots, aged, but has the teeth of a young one. Fore-feet blacker than the hind. Is a little hard in the mouth, but gentle, having been ridden by a lady ; goes a little lame on one leg, from having been ill-driven in a buggy, and shies at a Chiirchbell; supposed to have been carried off in Passion-week, by some itinerant musicians, who have been traced into Hampshire. Whoever will give information, etc.' " 88 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. The brown mark under the nostrils, and the blackness of the fore-feet mentioned in the description, are allusions to the enormous quantity of snuff which Cannon was in the habit, partly of taking, and partly of scattering right and left over shirt, waistcoat, table, chair, carpet everything that he ap- proached. Once, at the Chapel Royal he set the Bishop of London sneezing through the whole of the Communion Ser- vice, and afterwards when the Bishop remonstrated with him on having produced an old, colored, cotton handkerchief dur- ing the prayers, he merely asked in reply, ' Pray, does your lordship take snuff ? ' " Not if I can help it, Mr. Cannon." " Ah, then, I do, my lord, a good deal." His friend, John Wilson Croker, gave him, in lieu of the fourpenny box which he commonly used, a very handsome substitute having a gold cannon on the lid, and as a motto " Non sine pulvere" THE DIGNUM BROTHERS. "August 15, 1826. Dined with the Girdlers' Company at their Hall, after preaching to them at St. Michael Bassishaw, Mr Taylor in the chair. Among the professional singers on the occasion was poor old Dignum. Anecdote told of him which I first heard from Nield, the lay vicar of St. Paul's. Dignum, it seems, was complaining one morning to old Kny- vett, the King's composer, that his health was much impaired, and what was very extraordinary, that so strong a degree of sympathy existed between him and his brother, that one was no sooner taken ill than the other felt symptoms of the same indisposition, whatever it might be. ' We are both of us very unwell now,' added Dignum, ' and as our complaint is supposed to be an affection of the lungs, we are ordered to take asses milk, but unfortunately we have not been able to get any, though we have tried all over London ; can you tell us what we had better do ? ' A KEW COMER. 89 " ' Do ? ' answered Knyvett, ' Why the deuce don't you suck one another ! ' A STRANGE FISH. "December 3, 1826. Dined for the first time with Dr. Sumner, Bishop of Llandaff, who told me as a fact that Dr. R , a fellow of Eton, had some time since ordered one of his ponds to be cleaned out. A great number of carp, tench, eels, etc., were taken in the course of the operation. The Doctor was at dinner with some friends who had been viewing the work, when a servant came in to inform him that in draining off the water the men had found a chalybeate, ' Have they indeed ? ' cried he with much interest, ' I am very glad to hear it. Tell them to put it along with the other fish for the present.' A KEW COMER. "May 1 8, 1827. Harry Sandford (of the Treasury), Can- non, Tom Hill, Sir Andrew Barnard, and myself, went up to Twickenham by the steamboat. On the way we talked all sorts of nonsense, and laughed at everything, and everybody. A queer-looking old gentleman served especially to amuse Sandford, who took a delight in quizzing him. "'What is this bridge we're coming to?' asked the old gentlemen of the skipper. " ' Kew, sir,' returned the man. " ' How dare you insult a respectable individual,' cried Sand- ford, 'by insinuating that he is a Kew comer f " One of the company asserting that he had seen a pike caught, which weighed thirty-six pounds, and was four feet in length, " ' Had it been a sole,' said Harry, ' it would have sur- prised me less, as Shakespeare tells us " ' All the souls that are, were four feet (forfeit) once.' " On Hill's remarking on the number of publicans who had put up the Duke of Wellington's head over their doors, Sand- 90 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. ford said, ' Yes, let his grace's death come when, and how it may, you will never be able to say of him as King Henry does of Cardinal Beaufort, " ' He dies and makes no sign ! ' " OLD FRIENDS SHOULD NOT BE PARTED. "September I, 1827. Lord William Lennox and Mr. George Hill (of the Blues) met Dick and myself at Parrock House, where we slept last night. Went out shooting this morning, killing eleven brace and a half of partridges ; dined at two, and returned at four by the steamboat. On the voy- age we had our profiles taken .by an artist on board for a shilling a head, which he executed in ten seconds by the help of a pair of scissors only. An old woman on board told some of her friends who were very merry that, while she was at Margate in the course of the summer, the friend at whose house she had been staying had gone into the market for the purpose of purchasing a goose. There were but two in the whole place, offered for sale by a girl of fourteen, who re- fused to part with one without the other, assigning no other reason for her obstinacy than that it was her mother's order. Not wishing for two geese, the lady at first declined the pur- chase, but at last finding no other was to be had, and recol- lecting that a neighbor might be prevailed upon to take one off her hands, she concluded the bargain. Having paid for and secured the pair, she asked the girl at parting if she knew her mother's reason for the directions she had given. ' Oh, yes ! mistress,' answered the young poultry-merchant readily, ' mother said that they had lived together eleven years, and it would be a sin and a shame to part them now ! ' ' LUTTREL'S EPIGRAM. " September 20, 1827. Walpole, Lord William, and Can- non dined here. Cannon repeated Luttrel's epigram on the illness of the King when Regent : THOMAS HILL. 9! '" The Regent, sir, is taken ill, And all depends on Halford's skill. " Pray what," inquired the sage physician, " Has brought him to this sad condition?" When Bloomfield ventured to pronounce, " A little too much Cherry Bounce." The Regent hearing what was said, Raised from the couch his aching head, And cried " No, Halford, 't is not so ! Cure us, O Doctor, Curafoa I " ' " THE DUCHESS OF ST. ALBANS. " October 28, 1827. Dined at Dr. Hughes's. He read, from a letter of Southey, the Laureate, a humorous account of his first introduction to the Duchess of St. Albans, ci-devant Miss Mellon, alias Mrs. Coutts : ' I begin to think with Sir William Curtis that wonders will never have done ceasing. Here have I been hooked into an acquaintance with a duchess, and partaken of a potatoe-pie of her grace's own making ! I could tell you much of her bonnet, which our vicar has already compared to a banyan-tree. I could say much of her lip, which would seem to bespeak her a Nazarite from her moth- er's womb,' etc. This led the conversation to her Grace's habits and manners, when it was mentioned that, while an actress, Miss Mellon was the terror of the green-room from her violence, and that on one occasion, having taken offense at something said about her by Horace Twiss, she went up to Mrs. Henry Siddons, while sitting on a sofa, and addressed her, to her no small consternation, ' Madam, you may tell that rascal of a Twiss that the first time I meet him in a room I will shave his head with a poker ! ' ' THOMAS HILL. Mr. Hill is the Mr. Hull of "Gilbert Gurney," and he furnished the subject of Mr. Poole's admirable comedy, " Paul Pry." " Pooh pooh ! everybody must happen to know that." It may not, however, be so generally known that to his spirit of inquiry was owing the discovery of the celebrated American sea-serpent. Such was the fact ! Hill was in the 92 Kl CHARD HARRIS BARHAM. constant habit of visiting Mr. Stephen Price, the manager of Drury Lane, at his room in the theatre, and the latter soon found, to his surprise, that much that fell from him in conver- sation relating to engagements, the receipts of " the house," together with portions that he might have communicated of his American correspondence, appeared next day in the col- umns of the " Morning Chronicle." " When I discovered this, sir," said Price, " I gave my friend a lie a day ! " and accordingly the public were soon treated with the most extraordinary specimens of Transatlan- tic intelligence ; among the rest, with the first falling in with the body of a sea monster, somewhere about the Bermudas, and the subsequent appearance of his tail, some hundred miles to the northeast. " Well, my dear boy," used to exclaim the credulous visitor on entering the manager's sanctum, " any news ; any fresh letters from America ? " " Why, sir," would reply Price, with the utmost gravity, " I have been just reading an extract, sent under cover, from Captain Lobcock's log ; they 've seen, sir, that d d long sea- sarpant again ; they came upon his head, off Cape Clear, sir ! " And so the hoax continued, till the proprietors of the jour- nal which was made the vehicle for these interesting accounts, finding they were not received with the most implicit faith, unkindly put a stop to any further insertions on the subject. A PARADOX. "Diary: November 18, 1827. Coming home in the even- ing from the Chapel Royal, where I had been doing duty, I overtook in the Strand two lads, having much the appearance of linen-drapers' shopmen, and endeavoring to smoke certain abominations under the semblance of cigars ; both of them very tipsy. The obliquity of their motions, which resembled that sort of progress called by sailors ' tack and half tack,' rendered it difficult to pass them, and while thus kept, half voluntarily, half compulsorily, following in their wake, I heard the following conundrum put by the shorter one to his friend. A DUBIOUS ACQUAINTANCE. 93 " ' I say, Tom, do you know where that place is in the world where two friends, let them be ever so intimate as good friends as you and me, Tom can't be half an hour together without quarreling ? Now there is a paradox for you ! ' " ' A what ? a Paradise ? ' " ' No, you fool, a paradox? " ' A paradox is it ? Very well, and what 's that ? ' " ' What, don't you know what a paradox is ? Why, a para- dox is a what a fool you must be not to know what 's a paradox ; it 's a sort of oh, it 's no good talking to a chap that don't know what a paradox is ! ' " Here the speaker relapsed into an indignant silence, which he maintained till I was obliged to pass them, and I remain to this hour as ignorant of the meaning, or rather solution (for meaning it may have none), of the conundrum, as his antipara- doxical ally." A DUBIOUS ACQUAINTANCE. On his first arrival in London, Mr. Barham had become ac- quainted with a young man named Graham, who may be re- membered as moving some years ago in respectable literary circles ; he was possessed of considerable intellectual attain- ments, a prepossessing appearance, and very pleasing manners. The history of his career, detailed in the following extract, is not without interest, presenting, as it does, the melancholy spectacle of one endowed with great abilities, all blighted and rendered barren through want of principle. "December 2, 1827. Dined with Price, the manager of Drury Lane Theatre. The company were Const the mag- istrate, Tom Hill, Jerdan, Broderip, Braham the singer, and myself. Braham sang beautifully Had some conver- sation with Price respecting W. Graham, late editor of ' The Literary Museum,' whom I knew well when he filled that situa- tion. He was a tall, slight, gentlemanly young man ; rather, but not offensively, dandified, and with abilities and informa- tion which might have made him anything he chose to be. He was, I found, on comparing notes with Price, an American by 94 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. birth, and at the age of seventeen had committed a forgery on a person of high respectability at Philadelphia. He was de- tected, but pardoned by the gentleman whom he had attempted to defraud, on account of his youth, and out of regard to his family, but on the express condition that he should leave the country. Graham went, at first, no farther than New York, where Mr. Price was then practicing at the American Bar. The latter received a letter from the gentleman alluded to, requesting him to call on the young man, and either compel him to quit America forthwith, or send him back in custody to Philadelphia. This commission Price executed to the letter, allowing him four days for departure ; and Graham, sailing for England, landed at Plymouth. Here he was for a short time in the company of Mr. Foote, the manager of the Plymouth Theatre, and father to the (subsequently) celebrated Miss Foote, of Covent Garden Theatre, to whose Juliet, I have heard him say, he played Romeo ; he also performed the part of Frederic in ' The School of Reform,' she playing the heroine. With Miss Foote he was, according to his own ac- count, much ' smitten ' at the time, and to this early attach- ment was owing several of his rhyming effusions later in life ; one I recollect ran the round of the newspapers, and was at- tributed to others, but I have heard Graham claim it. The only verse I can call to mind runs : ' Had I the land that *s in the Strand, Gentles, I beg your pardon, I'd give each Foot, and more to boot, For one of Covent Garden.' " An opportunity occurring for a literary engagement in London, Graham came to town, when he distinguished him- self as a contributor to the magazines, and other periodicals. It was about this time I first knew him. A gentleman with whom he had become acquainted in the course of business had, I understood, taken a great fancy to him, had sent him for a while to Cambridge, and at his death bequeathed him an annuity of 3oo/. This, however, was soon disposed of, and the sum raised was, according to some accounts, lost in specula- A DUBIOUS ACQUAINTANCE. 95 tion, while others said it was spent in debauchery. Of this I know nothing ; the only reason I ever had for suspecting he was of a dissipated turn, was an account he himself once gave me, when we met accidentally that a young woman had that evening called at his lodgings in a hackney-coach, and (I think on his declining to see her) had cut her throat on the spot. She was not dead at the time he mentioned this, and the result I never learned. The nature of this circumstance, and the want of feeling exhibited in the recital, were of course sufficient to check any favorable opinion I might have formed of him, and to replace our acquaintance on the most distant footing. " When Mr. Price first came to London, with the view of taking a lease of Drury Lane Theatre, he was walking one evening with a friend in the lobby of that house, when he met Graham, but without recognizing him ; the latter, however, watched his opportunity, and drawing him aside, inquired if he did not recollect him. " ' Why, sir,' said Price, ' I have certainly seen you before, but where, and under what circumstances, I cannot at present call to mind. The impression I feel, however, respecting you is a painful one ; and it strikes me that either in my profes- sional capacity, or otherwise, I have seen you involved in some disgrace.' " Graham did not hesitate to prompt a memory which further reflection might render less treacherous, but avowed himself at once, adding that he was now prospering and fill- ing a respectable situation in the world, and begging Price not to betray that they had ever met before. This Price promised. Some short time after, the latter was called to dine with Mr. R , to whom he had been recently intro- duced ; Graham was also asked for the same day, and had unhesitatingly accepted the invitation, but happening after- wards to hear that he would meet his countryman Mr. Price, he at once recollected ' a previous engagement at Chelsea,' and that in so marked a manner that his friend perceived it was a disinclination to meet the person he had just named 96 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. which occasioned his retracting. He of course said no more to Graham ; but having a very slight acquaintance at the time with Mr. Price, actually went to a common friend to ask ' if he were quite sure of Mr. Price's respectability, as Graham evidently would not meet him ? ' " The real state of the case he did not learn for a long time after, when Graham, having run through all he possessed or could borrow, drew several forged bills on Mr. C. Knight, Mr. Whitaker, and others, and absconded with the money. He succeeded in returning to America, and there became sub- editor of a periodical paper, when a quarrel arising between him and a young man at a dinner party, Graham struck him ; a challenge was the consequence, and the assailant, being shot through the body at the first fire, died almost immedi- ately. This happened in the autumn of 1827." JOHN WILSON. "May 14, 1828. Acted as one of the stewards of the Literary Fund dinner with Lord F. L. Gower, Mr. Buckingham the traveller, Bishop of Winchester (Sumner), Hobhouse, Colonel Fitzclarence, and others. Duke of Somerset in the chair. Fitzgerald the poet spouted as usual, and broke down. Cannon observed ' Poeta nascitur son Fitz I beg his pardon, I am afraid I am wrong in a letter ! ' Supped afterwards with Blackwood of Edinburgh, who dined with us, at his rooms at the Somerset Coffee House. Jerdan, Crofton Croker, Rev. M. Stebbing present, with whom was passed an extremely pleasant evening, till 'Ebony' fell asleep. Amusing story told of John Wilson, the Professor of Morality, editor of 'Blackwood's Magazine,' and my old college acquaintance. He had taken Mrs. Wilson, her sister, and her sister's hus- band, in the summer of 1824, to the inn at Bowness for the purpose of viewing the Lake district. On the nv>rning after their arrival the gentlemen walked out, leaving the ladies at their breakfast. Suddenly the latter were most unceremoni- ously broken in upon by Lord M , a young nobleman recently expelled from Christ Church, and three of his com- JOHN WILSON. 97 panions, one of whom was in orders. In spite of the inter- ference of the landlady, they acted very rudely, insisting on saluting the ladies, and in the scuffle overturned the table. Having been with much difficulty induced to quit the room, they next proceeded to stroll by the margin of the magnifi- cent piece of water in the immediate vicinity. On his return, Mr. Wilson was made acquainted by the landlady with what had occurred in his absence, and became, as may be supposed, violently angry. In vain did his brother-in-law and the ladies endeavor to pacify him, and as they locked the door to prevent his going in search of the intruders, he sprang through the window, and made off to the shore of the lake, where he found the party amusing themselves with throwing stones into the water. Instantly addressing them, he insisted on knowing which was Lord M . The gentlemen at first were silent, but on his declaring, if he were not informed, he should treat the person nearest as the object of his inquiry, his lord- ship avowed himself, and was immediately knocked down ! The other three closed on the Professor ; but he, being a very athletic man, as well as possessed of considerable skill in the art of boxing, soon gave the whole four a very severe drubbing, and compelled them to apologize for their improper conduct. The next morning the clergyman, mounting a very respectable pair of black eyes, called on him, having learnt his name in the interval, and renewing his excuses, hinted that for the sake of all parties it would be better that the affair should be buried in silence. Mr. Wilson replied that he was not in the least ashamed of what he had done, and that if his Professor's grown had been on his back at the time he should have had no hesitation in laying it aside on such an occasion ; but that his object of inflicting a due chastise- ment having been accomplished, any publicity which might arise would be owing only to their own indiscretion, as he should think no more of the matter. And thus the affair terminated." 98 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. A GHOST STORY. With his vivid imagination, and appreciation of the marvel- ous, it is not to be altogether wondered at if Mr. Btirham him- self appeared a little disposed to give credence to the existence of things undreamed of in our philosophy. People who heard him narrate some tale of mystery with a dramatic power and flow of impressive language that riveted the attention of a youthful audience, whom he always loved to amuse, and with whom he loved to be amused, might easily allow the undercurrent of humor to escape their notice. And really he seemed at times to endeavor to persuade himself into credulity, much in the way that some people strive to con- vict themselves of a bodily ailment. He sought, as it were, to lull reason to sleep for a while, and leave an uninterrupted field for the wildest vagaries of fancy. Unlike poor Lidy Cork, whose enjoyment of " her murders " sensibly declined, he never lost his relish for a "good ghost story ; " nothing delighted him more than to listen to unless it were to tell one of those " true histories," properly fitted with the full com- plement of names, dates, and locale, attested by " living wit- nesses of unblemished reputation," and hedged in on all sides by circumstantial evidence of the most incontrovertible nat- ure ; one, in short, of those logical cuts de sac which afford no exit but by unceremoniously kicking down the opposing bar- rier. It was Sir Walter Scott, I believe, who was thus driven to extricate himself from a dilemma of this sort, when, luin^ asked " how he accounted " for some strange tale he had re- lated on no less authority than that of his own grandmother, he was forced io reply, after some deliberation, " Aiblins my grandmither was an awfu' leear ! " That the lovers of well-authenticated ghost stories owe a good deal of their delectation to the ingenuity of the "awfu' leears " is, I fear, not to he gainsaid. The diary seems to sup- ply an instance with which this chapter may conclude : " It is a singular thing that, of all the numerous writers who have told this celebrated ghost story (that of Sir George THOMAS HVME. 99 Villiers ' ), not one that I have ever seen has alluded to a story precisely similar in all its details which is recorded by the Due de St. Simon, in the first volume of his memoirs, as hav- ing happened to Louis XIV. A man brings the same message of secret advice, together with a secret known only to the King himself, which he declares he has received three differ- ent times from a phantom representing the late Queen, in the forest of St. Germain, and which had been confided to the speaker for the purpose of securing attention to his message. The King receives the man more than once, rebukes his min- isters for thinking him mad. and treats the whole business very gravely, ordering the messenger to be provided for com- fortably in his own sphere of life for the rest of his days. This happened in 1691, and St. Simon conjectures it to have been a trick of Maintenon's to induce Louis to own their marriage. It is difficult to believe that one of these stories is not a mere variation of the other." THOMAS HUME. One of the earliest and closest intimacies which Mr. Barham contracted, after his settlement in London, was with Dr. Thomas Hume, who, like Cannon, had been for many previous years a constant guest of Dr. Bond, the husband of Mrs. Bar- ham's sister, at Han well. Hume must have been naturally a man of strange temper, and time and circumstances had com- bined to deepen his peculiarities. Tall, upright, stern, with a cold, colorless, impassive face over which a smile rarely flitted, 1 The particulars of the Villiers story are briefly these : A certain M . Twose, an old school-fellow of Sir George Villiers, father of the first Duke of Buckingham, being asleep in his lodging in Drury Lane, was disturbed by the apparition of the knight, who enjoined him to visit the Duke and admonish him as to his conduct and policy, and assure him, if he attended to the warning, of life and prosperity, but to predict his death before St. Bartholomew's Day if he neglected it. The man not obeying, the visit was repeated thrice, and on the last occasion the ghost told him certain secrets to be used as credentials. Mr. Twose, having with difficulty obtained access to the Duke, delivered the message. The Duke, on receiving it, consulted with his mother, who was much affected, but paid himself no further heed to the ad- monition, and was soon after assassinated at Portsmouth by Kelton, as he was about to set out for the relief of Rochelle, then besieged by the French. IOO RICHAKD HARRIS BARHAM. he was assuredly not one either to invite or to accept any hasty demonstration of friendship. There was, indeed, something cynical about him which had the effect of keeping people in general at a distance ; and at a distance people in general were best pleased to keep. The absence of all outward show of geniality, and the seeming want of sympathy which he dis- played, rendered it impossible for mere acquaintances to feel at ease in his company. And yet, notwithstanding his repel- lant manner, he was blessed with a heart warm, true, and largely generous qualities which endeared its possessor to a chosen few, among whom may be numbered Thomas Moore and my father. Moreover, he was a perfect gentleman an Irish gentleman, and endowed with a courteous gravity of demeanor which lent an uncommon force to anything of a sarcastic turn to which he might be provoked into giving ut- terance. One instance, in particular, of his dry humor my father used to relate. They had walked together to the office of one of the morning newspapers, and there the doctor silently placed upon the counter an announcement of the death of some friend, together with five shillings, the usual charge for the insertion of such advertisements. The clerk glanced at the paper, tossed it on one side, and said gruffly, " Seven and six ! " " I have frequently," replied Hume, "had occasion to pub- lish these simple notices, and I have never before been charged more than five shillings." " Simple ! " repeated the clerk without looking up ; " he 's universally beloved and deeply regretted ! Seven and six." Hume produced the additional half-crown and laid it delib- erately by the others, observing as he did so, with the same solemnity of tone he had used throughout^ " Congratulate yourself, sir, that this is an expense which your executors will never be put to." Dr. Hume was, as I observed, an Irishman ; he was in the army, had done some service, and had attained, I believe, the rank of physician to the forces. He was married twice : in his THOMAS HUME. IOI first choice he was not fortunate ; and to this early disappoint- ment of his hopes something of the sternness of his disposi- tion is in fairness to be attributed. His first wife was the daughter of a clergyman, rector of a parish which now may al- most be reckoned in the suburbs of London, whose tragic end shocked the town some sixty years ago, and has since been introduced in at least one work of fiction. The particulars, as my father heard them on good authority, are certainly remark- able. The gentleman, whom I need designate no further than by the initial G , was a tolerably well-known, and accom- plished member of society, an elegant scholar, distinguished for much of that facility in the composition of Latin verse which has rendered Father Prout famous, and one who called great folks even royal dukes his friends. More than one of these illustrious personages occasionally did him the honor of visiting his rectory. As maybe supposed, he was not long in finding out that the entertaining royalty is a sort of hospitality far too splendid for the fortune of a simple clergyman. Per- haps, like so many men under the like circumstances, and yet without reason, he vaguely hoped that something would be done for him. But whether or not he had been beguiled by others, or by himself, in this respect, one thing was clear the something was too long a-doing ! Ruin was inevitable, and was at hand ! Resolving to anticipate the wreck, he got to- gether all that was available of his remaining property and departed suddenly and secretly for London. It so happened that one of his friends, residing at Hanwell, had invited him to join a party at dinner on the following clay. The guests, with the exception of Mr. G , arrived in due time. At first there was the usual disposition shown, on the part of the host, to await his coming; then a little whispering among the gentlemen took place ; and by degrees a gloom, felt but not comprehended by all, stole over the company, who sat down to table without the rector and quitted it at an unusually early hour. It was not till the next morning that the hostess (a near relative of my own) was informed of the cause of her friend's absence. A rumor of its nature had reached the vil- 102 RICHARD HARRIS BAR HAM. lage the day before, and had been communicated to her hus band in the drawing-room ; the report was now confirmed, and there was no further use in maintaining silence on the subject. Mr. G , it appeared, had reached London safely and had been driven to one of the large coaching inns in the city ; I believe it was " The Spread Eagle," in Gracechurch Street. Here he supped and retired, as it was supposed, to rest, hav- ing given orders to be called in the morning in time to enable him to start off by the first stage bound for Dover. Noises, it came out afterwards, were heard in the course of the night proceeding from his room, but as they probably had not reached the ears of any of the servants of the house, no notice was taken of the occurrence. At the appointed hour " boots " rapped at the traveller's door. No answer was returned ; the summons was repeated, but in vain. The man became alarmed, called his master, under whose directions the door was forced, and a strange and shocking sight was disclosed. Suspended from the bedstead, strangled and long dead, hung the occu- pant of the apartment. Bed and bedding were tumbled in confusion on the floor ; every article of clothing, the curtains, even the sheets, were torn to shreds and scattered in all directions ; the furniture was overthrown and broken, and the work of destruction was completed by the self-murder of its perpetrator. For some little time no clew to the mystery could be gained, but ere long a discovery was effected by means the most unlooked for. A hackney coachman was taken into cus- tody for drunkenness. On being examined by the police there was found in his possession a pocket-book containing bank notes for a very large amount. Inquiry elicited the fact that he had lately obtained change for others ; and. finding evasion impossible, the man confessed that he had a few days before driven a gentleman to the inn in question, and that, on exam- ining the carriage after depositing his fare, a pocket-book lying among the straw at the bottom caught his eye, and he could not resist the temptation to appropriate its contents. Mean- while the wretched owner evidently had not become aware of his loss till he had reached his bed-room. Then there must CHARLES MATHEWS THE ELDER. 1 03 have flashed upon him the hopelessness and horror of his po- sition a penniless fugitive, with disgrace and ruin confront- ing him turn which way he would ! One may well imagine the despair and agony which accompanied the frantic search for his treasure, and finally the mania which drove him to his death. CHARLES MATHEWS THE ELDER. In 1829 Mr. Barham appears to have met for the first time, at the table of their common friend, Theodore Hook, Charles Mathews the elder. Their acquaintance was of some years' duration, but never reached intimacy ; it was accompanied, nevertheless, certainly on the part of Mr. Barham, by feelings of no ordinary regard. It may, indeed, be questioned whether the golden opinions won by this accomplished actor in his pro- fessional career upon the stage were more than commensurate with the esteem which he inspired in private life. " Diary : May 5, 1 829. Dined at Hook's. Horace Twiss, Lord W. Lennox, Jerdan, Cannon, Mathews, Yates, Professor Millington, Allan Cunningham, Price, Denham, brother to Colonel Denham the traveller, Milan Powell, F. Broderip, Doctors Arnott and Whimper, with myself, formed the party. Sir A. Barnard being engaged with the king, Lockhart with his wife, and Charles Kemble laid up with a bilious attack. Mathews told an excellent story of an Irish surgeon named Maseres, who kept a running horse, and who applied to him on one occasion for his opinion respecting a disputed race. " ' Now, sur,' commenced the gentleman, ' Mr. Mathews, as you say you understand horse-racing, and so you do, I '11 just thank ye to give me a little bit of an opinion, the least taste in life of one. Now, you '11 mind me, sur, my horse had won the first hate, well, sur, and then, he 'd won the second hate, well " " ' Why, sir,' said Mathews, ' if he won both the heats, he won the race.' " ' Not at all, my dear fellow, not at all. You see he won the first hate, and then, somehow, my horse fell down, and then the horse (that 's not himself, but the other), came up " IO4 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. " * And passed him, I suppose,' said Mathews. " ' Not at all, sur, not at all ; you quite mistake the gist of the matter. Now, you see, my horse had lost the first hate " "'Won it, you mean at least, won it, you said.' " ' Won it ! of course, I said won it ; that is, the other horse won it, and the other horse, that is, my horse, won the second hate, when another, not himself, comes up and tumbles down but stop ! I '11 demonstrate the circumstances ocularly. There you '11 keep your eye on that decanter ; now, mighty well ; now, you '11 remember that 's my horse, that is, I mane it 's not my horse, it's the other, and this cork you observe this cork this cork 's my horse, and my horse, that is this cork, had won the first hate ' " ' Lost it, you said, sir, just now,' groaned Mathews, rapidly approaching a state of complete bewilderment. " ' Lost it, sur, by no manes ; won it, sur, I maintain 'pon my soul, your friend l there that 's grinning so is a mighty bad specimen of an American no, sur, won it, I said ; and now I want your opinion about the hate, that is, not the hate, but the race, you know, not, that is, the first hate, but the second hate, that would be the race when it was won.' " ' Why, really, my dear sir,' replied the referee, ' I don't pre- cisely see the point upon which ' - " ' God bless me, sur ! do ye pretind to understand horse- racing, and can't give a plain opinion on a simple matter of hates f Now, sur, I '11 explain it once more. The stopper, you are aware, is my horse, but the other horse that is, the other man's horse,' etc., etc. " And so poor Maseres went on for more than an hour, and no one could tell at last which horse it was that fell ; whether he had won the first hate, or lost it ; whether his horse was the decanter or the cork ; or what the point was, upon which Mr. Maseres wanted an opinion." 1 Mr. Stephen Price. THE PORTSMOUTH GHOST STORY. 105 THE PORTSMOUTH GHOST STORY. " A story with much more of the supernatural about it was related to me by Mrs. Hughes the other day, which is, I think, one of the best authenticated ghost stories in existence. It was narrated to her by Mrs. Hastings, wife of Captain Hast- ings, R. N., and ran to the following effect : " Captain and Mrs. Hastings were driving into Portsmouth one afternoon, when a Mr. Hamilton, who had recently been appointed to a situation in the dockyard there, made a third in their chaise, being on his way to take possession of his post. As the vehicle passed the end of one of the narrow lanes which abound in the town, the latter gentleman, who had for some little time been more grave and silent than usual, broke through the reserve which had drawn a remark from the lady, and gave the following reason for his taciturnity : " ' It was,' said he, ' the recollection of the lane we have just passed, and of a very singular circumstance which occurred to me at a house in it some eighteen years ago, which occupied my thoughts at the moment, and which, as we are old friends, and I know you will not laugh at me, I will repeat to you. "'At the period alluded to, I had arrived in the town for the purpose of joining a ship in which I was about to proceed abroad on a mercantile speculation. On inquiry, I found that the vessel had not come round from the Downs, but was ex- pected every hour. The most unpleasant part of the business was, that two or three king's ships had just been paid off in the harbor, a county election was going on, and the town was filled with people waiting to occupy berths in an outward bound fleet which a contrary wind had for some days prevented from sailing. This combination of events, of course, made Ports- mouth very full and very disagreeable. To me it was partic- ularly annoying as I was a stranger in the place, and every re- spectable hotel in the place was quite full. After wandering half over the town without success, I at length happened to inquire at a tolerably decent looking public-house, situate in the lane alluded to, where a very civil, though a very cross IO6 KICHARD HARRIS BAR HAM. looking landlady at length made me happy by the intelligence that she would take me in, if I did not mind sleeping in a double-bedded room. I certainly did object to a fellow-lodger, and so I told her, but, as I coupled the objection with an offer to pay handsomely for both beds, though I should occupy only one of them, our bargain was settled, and I took possession of my apartment. When I retired for the night I naturally examined both beds, one of which had on a very decent counterpane, the other being covered with a patchwork quilt, coarse, but clean enough. The former I selected for my own use, placed my portmanteau by its side, and having, as I thought, carefully locked the door to keep out intruders, undressed, jumped be- neath the clothes, and fell fast asleep. " ' I had slept, 1 suppose, an hour or more, when I was awak- ened by a noise in the lane below ; but being convinced that it was merely occasioned by the breaking up of a jolly party, I was turning round to recompose myself, when I perceived, by the light of the moon which shone brightly into the room, that the bed opposite was occupied by a man, having the ap- pearance of a sailor. He was only partially undressed, having his trowsers on, and what appeared, as well as I could make it out, to be a Belcher handkerchief, tied around his head by way of a nightcap. His position was half sitting, half reclining on the outside of the bed, and he seemed to be fast asleep. " ' I was, of course, very angry that the landlady should have broken her covenant with me and let another person into the room, and at first felt half disposed to desire the intruder to withdraw ; but as the man was quiet, and I had no particular wish to spend the rest of the night in an altercation, I' thought it wiser to let things alone till the morning, when I determined to give my worthy hostess a good jobation for her want of faith. After watching him for some time, and seeing that my chum maintained the same posture, though he could not be aware that I was awake, I reclosed my eyes and once more fell asleep. " ' It was broad daylight when I awoke in the morning, and THE PORTSMOUTH GHOST STORY. \VJ the sun was shining full in through the window. My slumber- ing friend apparently had never moved, for there he was still, half sitting, half lying on the quilt, and I had a fair opportunity of observing his features, which, though of a dark complexion, were not ill-favored, and were set off by a pair of bushy black whiskers that would have done honor to a rabbi. What sur- prised me most, however, was that I could now plainly perceive that what I had taken in the moonlight for a red handkerchief on his forehead was in reality a white one, but quite satu- ratedin parts with a crimson fluid, which trickled down his left cheek and seemed to have run upon the pillow. " ' At the moment the question occurred to me how could the stranger have procured admission into the room ? as I saw but one door, and that I felt pretty confident I had myself locked on the inside, while I was quite positive my gentleman had not been in the chamber when I retired to bed. " ' I got out and walked to the door, which was in the centre of one side of the room, nearly half-way between the two beds ; and as I approached it, one of the curtains interposed for a moment so as to conceal my unknown companion from my view. I found the door, as I had supposed it to have been, fastened, with the key in the lock, just as I had left it, and, not a little surprised at the circumstance, I now walked across to the farther bed to get an explanation from my comrade, when to my astonishment he was nowhere to be seen ! Scarcely an instant before I had observed him stretched in the same position which he had all along maintained, and it was difficult to conceive how he had managed to make his exit so instan- taneously, as it were, without my having perceived or heard him. I, in consequence, commenced a pretty close examina- tion of the wainscot near the head of the bed, having first sat- isfied myself that he was concealed neither under it nor by the curtain. No door nor aperture of any kind was to be discov- ered, and, as the rawness of the morning air began by this time to give me a tolerably strong hint that it was time to dress, I put on the rest of my clothes, not, however, without oc- casionally pausing to muse on the sailor's extraordinary conduct. 108 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. " * I was the first person up in the house ; a slipshod, ambig- uous being, however, in whom were united all the various qual- ities and functions of " boots," chambermaid, waiter, and pot- boy, soon made its appearance, and yawning most terrifically began to place a few cinders, etc., in a grate not much cleaner than its own face and hands, preparatory to the kindling of a fire. From this combination I endeavored to extract some information respecting my nocturnal visitor, but in vain ; it " knowed nothing of no sailors," and I was compelled to post- pone my inquiries till the appearance of the mistress, who- descended in due time. "'After greeting her with all the civility I could muster no great amount by the way as my anger was in abeyance only, not extinct 1 proceeded to inquire for my bill, telling her that I certainly should not take breakfast, nor do anything more, "for the good of the house," after her breach of promise respecting the privacy of my sleeping-room. The good lady met me at once with a " Marry come up ! " a faint flush came over her cheek, her little gray eyes twinkled, and her whole countenance gained in animation what it lost in placidity. " ' What did I mean ? I had bespoke the whole room, and I had had the whole room, and, though she said it, there was not a more comfortable room in all Portsmouth ; she might have let the spare bed five times over, and had refused be- cause of my fancy ; did I think to " bilk " her ? and called myself a gentleman she supposed ! " ' I easily stopped the torrent of an eloquence that would have soon gone near to overwhelm me, by depositing a guinea (about a fourth more than her whole demand) upon the bar, and was glad to relinquish the offensive for the defensive. It was therefore with a most quaker-like mildness- of expostula- tion that I rejoined, that certainly I had not to complain of any actual inconvenience from the vicinity of my fellow-lodger, but that, having agreed to pay double for the indulgence of my whim, if such she was pleased to call it, I of course ex- pected the conditions to be observed on the other side ; but I was now convinced that it had been violated without her pri- THE PORTSMOUTH GHOST STORY. 109 vity, and that some of her people had doubtless introduced the man into the room, in ignorance probably of our under- standing. " ' " What man ? " retorted she briskly, but in a much more mollified tone than before the golden peacemaker had met her sight "There was nobody in your room, unless you let him in yourself ; had you not the key, and did not I hear you lock the door after you ? " " ' That I admitted to be true ; " nevertheless," added I, tak- ing up my portmanteau and half turning to depart, as if I were firing a last stern-chaser at an enemy whom I did not care longer to engage, "there certainly was a man -a sailor in my room last night ; though I know no more how he got in or out than I do where he got his broken head, or his un- conscionable whiskers." " ' My foot was on the threshold as I ended, that I might escape the discharge of a reply which I foreboded would not be couched in the politest of terms. But it did not come, and as I threw back a parting glance at my fair foe, I could not help being struck with the very different expression of her features from that which I had anticipated. Her attitude and whole appearance were as if the miracle of Pygmalion had been reversed, and a living lady had been suddenly changed into a statue ; her eyes were fixed, her cheek pale, her mouth half open, while the fingers, which had been on the point of closing on the guinea, seemed arrested in the very act. " ' I hesitated, and at length a single word, uttered distinctly but lowly, and as if breathlessly spoken, fell upon my ear ; it was " WHISKERS ! " " ' " Aye, whiskers" I replied ; " I never saw so splendid a pair in my life." " ' " And a broken For Heaven's sake come back one moment," said the lady, whom I now perceived to be laboring under no common degree of agitation. " ' Of course I complied, marveling not a little that a word, which though, according to Mr. Shandy, it once excited a powerful commotion in the court of Navarre, is usually very I IO RICHARD HARRIS BARHAU harmless in our latitudes, should produce so astounding an effect on the sensorium of a Portsmouth landlady. " ' " Let me entreat you, sir," said my hostess, " to tell me, without disguise, who and what you saw in your bed-room last night." " i u j,j o onC) ma d am ," was my answer, " but the sailor of whose intrusion I before complained, and who, I presume, took refuge there from some drunken fray, to sleep off the effects of his liquor, as, though evidently a good deal knocked about, he did not appear to be very sensible of his condition." " ' An earnest request to describe his person followed, which I did to the best of my recollection, dwelling particularly on the wounded temple and the remarkable whiskers, which formed, as it were, a perfect fringe to his face. " ' " Then, Lord have mercy upon me ! " said the woman, in accents of mingled terror and distress, "it's all true, and the house is ruined forever ! " " ' So singular a declaration only whetted my already excited curiosity, and the landlady, who now seemed anxious to make a friend of me, soon satisfied my inquiries in a few words which left an impression no time will ever efface. " 'After entreating and obtaining a promise of secrecy, she informed me that, on the third evening previous to my arrival, a party of sailors from one of the vessels which were paying off in the harbor were drinking in her house, when a quarrel ensued between them and some marines belonging to another ship. The dispute at length rose to a great height, and blows were interchanged. The landlady in vain endeavored to in- terfere, till at length a heavy blow, struck with the edge of a pewter pot, lighting upon the temple of a stout young fellow of five-and-twenty, who was one of the most active on the side of the sailors, brought him to the ground senseless "and covered with blood. He never spoke again, but, although his friends immediately conveyed him up-stairs and placed him on the bed, endeavoring to stanch the blood 2.nd doing all in their power to save him, he breathed his last in a few minutes. "'In order to hush up a circumstance which could hardly THE PORTSMOUTH GHOST STORY. \ \ \ fail, if known, to bring all parties concerned " into trouble," the old woman admitted that she had consented to the body's be- ing buried in the garden, where it was interred the same night by two of his comrades. The man having been just dis- charged, it was calculated that no inquiry after him was likely to take place. " ' " But then, sir," cried the landlady, wringing her hands, " it 's all of no use. Foul deeds will rise, and I shall never dare to put anybody into your room again, for there it was he was carried ; they took off his jacket and waistcoat, and tied his wound up with a handkerchief, but they never could stop the bleeding till all was over ; and, as sure as you are stand- ing there a living man, he is come back to trouble us, for if he had been sitting to you for his picture, you could not have painted him more accurately than you have done." "'Startling as this hypothesis of the old woman's was, I could substitute no better, and as the prosecution of the in- quiry must have necessarily operated to delay my voyage, and, perhaps involve me in difficulties, without answering, as far as I could see, any good end, I walked quietly, though certainly not quite at my ease, down to the Point ; and my ship arriv- ing in the course of the afternoon, I went immediately on board, set sail the following morning for the Mediterranean, and though I have been many years in England since, have never again set foot in Portsmouth from that hour to this.' " Thus ended Mr. Hamilton's narrative. " The next day the whole party set out to reconnoitre the present appearance of the house, but some difficulty was ex- perienced at first in identifying it, the sign having been taken down, and the building converted into a greengrocer's shop about five years before. A dissenting chapel had been built on the site of the garden, but nothing was said by their in- formant of any skeleton having been found while digging for the foundation, nor did Mr. Hamilton think it advisable to push any inquiries on the subject. The old landlady, he found, had been dead several years, and the public-house had passed into other hands before the withdrawal of the license and its subsequent conversion to the present purposes." 112 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. FUNERAL OF SIR T. LAWRENCE. " Diary: January 21, 1830. Attended the public funeral of Sir Thomas Lawrence. An immense throng, but all conducted with great order and splendor. The coffin was carried into the vaults, and brought under the brass plate in the centre of the dome, after the part of the service usually performed in the choir had been gone through. The mourners formed a large outer circle, in the centre of which, close round the plate, was an inner one composed of the members of the cathedral. Among the mourners were Sir G. Murray, Peel, Lord Aber- deen (who seemed almost frozen while bearing the pall from the west door), C. Kemble, Horace Twiss, Derham, Gwilt, T. Campbell, John Wilson Croker, conspicuous in a black velvet cap, and old Nash, the architect, still more so in a Welsh wig. My poor little Emma being very ill, I had some doubt as to going, but Dr. Bowring and Mr. Kothwell with the Crombies coming, I was obliged to conduct them, and we got in with no little difficulty through the crowd, already assembled at twelve, though the funeral was not appointed to take place till two o'clock. Dr. Hughes," a very old friend of the deceased, was so affected that it was with the greatest difficulty he got through the lesson. After the ceremony the body was con- veyed to a brick grave under the south aisle, where it lies, thus : BISHOP NEWTON SIR T. LAWKBNCK WEST GEORGE I > '. . BJ K.A. FUSKLI DAWB. R. A. I : i . SIR JOSHI'A REYNOLDS Or IK JOHN FROST. 1 1 3 " Mrs. Hughes mentioned to me a singular story respect- ing the deceased, which* she had from his intimate friend, Miss C . This lady told her, while in the gallery during the ceremony, that the evening before his decease she had seen him. He seemed, she said, a little out of spirits, and asked her somewhat abruptly if she had ever heard a death- watch ? She replied that she had ; on which he requested her to describe the noise it made, which she did. On hearing her description he replied, " Aye, that is it exactly ! " and re- lapsed into a thoughtful silence which he scarcely broke dur- ing the rest of her visit. JOHN FROST. " All the papers of this date [January, 1830] were full of the quarrel between the Medico-Botanico Society and its Di- rector, as he was called, and founder, Mr. John Frost, a gentle- man remarkable equally for his modest assurance and the high estimate he had formed of his own pretensions, on what many persons thought singularly insufficient grounds. The Royal Society, as a body, were unquestionably of this opinion, as, on his name being submitted to the ballot, he was almost unanimously blackballed. His perseverance, however, in beat- ing up for recruits for his favorite society was unparalleled. It was his custom to run about with a highly ornamented album to every distinguished person, British or foreign, to whom he could by any possibility introduce himself, inform them that they were elected honorary members of the Medico- Botanico Society, and give a flourishing account of its merits ; and as one of the rules required that a member should write his own name in their book, Mr. F. procured by these names a valuable collection of autographs. " The best of the joke was, that, having written to several foreign princes through the medium of their ambassadors, and under Lord Aberdeen's government franks, procured through the interest of Lord Stanhope, the President and head of the Society (for the high-sounding office of Director was, in fact, that of Secretary), he contrived to get no less than a dozen 8 I 14 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAA1. potentates of various grades to consent to their enrolment, and to acknowledge the compliment. Two indeed of them the Emperor of the Brazils was one went so far as to inclose the insignia of one of their minor orders, addressed to ' the Director,' as they had never heard of any higher officer, and these Jacky Frost, as he was commonly called, lost no time in mounting upon his coat, much to the annoyance of Lord Stan- hope and the rest of the body. " It was determined, in consequence, to get rid of Mr. Frost, by doing away with the office of Director altogether ; the orders, however, and the album he could not be induced to part with. His honors after all were dearly purchased, as the Royal Humane Society, thinking, perhaps, that it was sadly infra dig. for a chevalier with two crosses on his breast to be holding the bellows to the nose of every chimney- sweeper picked out of the Serpentine, dismissed him from the employment he held under them, whereby he lost 2oo/. a year and a good house in Bridge Street. " Among the cool stratagems which he occasionally made use of to procure signatures to his book, was one which he played off on the Duke of Wellington, which, had it not been vouched for by Mr. Wood, F. R. S., I should hardly have cred- ited. Having failed in repeated attempts to get with his quarto into Apsley House, he heard by good luck that his Grace, then Commander-in-chief, was about to hold a levee of general officers. Away posted Jacky to a masquerade warehouse, and hired a Lieutenant-general's uniform, under cover of which he succeeded in establishing himself fairly in the Duke's anteroom, among thirteen or fourteen first-rate Directors of strategetics. " Everybody stared at a general whom nobody knew, and at length an aide-de-camp, addressing him, politely requested to -know his name. "'What general shall I have the honor of announcing to his Grace ? ' "'My name is Frost, sir.' Frost, General Frost ! I beg your pardon, but I really do not recollect to have heard that name before ! ' JOHN FROST. 1 1 5 " ' Oh, sir, I am no general, I have merely put on this cos- tume as I understood I could not obtain access to his Grace without it : I am the Director of the Medico- Botanico So- ciety, and have come to inform his Grace that he has been elected a member, and to get his signature.' " ' Then, sir, I must tell you that you have taken a most improper method and opportunity of so doing, and I insist upon your withdrawing immediately.' " Jacky, however, was too good a general to capitulate on the first summons, and he stoutly kept his ground, notwith- standing a council of war at once began to deliberate on the comparative eligibility of kicking him into the street, or giving him in charge to a constable. Luckily for him the aide-de- camp thought his Grace had a right to a voice in the matter, as the offense was committed in his own house. On the busi- ness, however, being mentioned to him, the hero of Waterloo, not choosing perhaps to risk the laurels he had won from Na- poleon in a domestic encounter with so redoubtable a cham- pion, said, ' Let the fellow in,' cut short Jacky's oration by writing his name hastily in the book, and gave the sign ' to show him out again.' It was doubtful, however, whether any other sanctuary than the house he was in would have shel- tered him from the indignation of the militaires in waiting, at the sight of what they considered a degradation of the na- tional uniform. " Quite as amusing was this gentleman's interview with the Duke of St. Albans. The ' Director ' easily got his Grace's consent to be elected a member, and the book was produced for his signature. The latter took up a pen, and commenced ' Du ,' when he was interrupted by his visitor, " ' No, I beg pardon, it is your Grace's title we require, written by your own hand.' " ' Well, my title is Duke of St. Albans, is it not ? ' " ' Yes, your Grace, undoubtedly, but your signature merely the way in which your Grace usually signs.' Here the Duchess interfered, and ' St. Albans ' was soon written, in a large German-text, school-boy hand, the '>u' having been 1 1 6 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. previously expunged by a side wipe of his Grace's forefinger. Mr. Frost bowed, pocketed the subscription, pronounced all to be en rigle, congratulated his noble friend on having become a brother Medico-Botanico, and quitted Stratton Street in high glee. " Not long afterwards it was his good fortune again to en- counter his Grace, on some public occasion. Of course he paid his respects, and equally of course the Duke inquired of ' Mr. Thingumee] as he called him, how that ' medical thing ' that he belonged to, went on. " ' Exceedingly prosperous, indeed, my Lord Duke,' was the answer ; ' we are increasing both in numbers and respecta- bility every day ; I have got twelve Sovereigns down since the commencement of the present year.' " ' Oh, if you have only got twelve sovereigns in all that time, I don't think you are getting on so very fast ; you know I gave you five guineas of them myself.' " This anecdote may easily be believed of a duke who soon after his wedding wrote to the editor of " Debrett's Peerage," then Mr. Townshend, Rouge Dragon, saying, "Sir, I have to inform you that I am married to Mrs. Coutts, and Mrs. Coutts desires you will put it into your next edition." This Towns- hend told me himself. POETICAL EPISTLE TO HIS SON. Some slight difference of opinion I remember to have arisen between my father and myself respecting the comparative merits of the box-seat and a place inside the coach, which was to convey me to Tunbridge. My fare paid, I was handed, under protest, into the interior of the " machine," and on my naturally availing myself of the opportunity offered by the first stoppage to mount the roof, in which position I accomplished the re- mainder of the journey, some mistake arose respecting my identity and the sum disbursed on my behalf. Thence ensued, to my confusion, a disclosure of the masterly movement that had been effected, and a consequent remonstrance conveyed in terms more indulgent than, I fear, I deserved : POETICAL EPISTLE TO HIS SON. \\"J To R. H. D. Barham. "St. PAUL'S, July 5, 18301 "I find, Mister Dick, That you 've played me a trick, For which you deserve a reproof Not to say a reproach ; You got out of the coach,. And settled yourself on the roof. "You knew you 'd a cough, And when you set off, I cautioned you as to your ride, And bade you take care Of the damp and cold air, And above all to keep withinside. " This they tell me that you Did not choose to do, But exchanged with some person, they said ; And so Easton mistook Your name in his book, And charged you what he should have paid. " I found them quite willing To refund every shilling, And render to Caesar his due : They gave me back three, Which 1 take to be The overplus forked out by you. " Now don't do this again ; Indeed, to be plain, If you mount, when you come back to town, Your namesake the ' Dicky,' I shall certainly lick ye, And perhaps half demolish your crown. " Mamma means to inclose Two white ' wipes ' for your nose ; As your purse may be run rather hard, I shall also attack her To augment your exchequer With a sovereign stuck in a card. " But my note I must end it, Or 't will be too late to send it 1 1 8 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. To-day, which I much wish to do ; So remember us mind, enough To our friends who are kind enough To be bored with such a nuisance as you. " Write as soon as you can, That 's a good little man, And direct your epistle to me ; Meanwhile I remain. Till I see you again, Your affectionate sire, R. H. B." SYDNEY SMITH. The appointment of Mr. Sydney Smith to one of the ca- nonries of St. Paul's proved the means of introducing Mr. Barham to the society of that distinguished individual, and cir- cumstances led afterwards to a pretty frequent correspondence between them, chiefly indeed bearing reference to matters of business, but abounding, on the part of the latter, with in- stances of that decided spirit and peculiar humor inseparable from his writings and conversation. At first, I believe Mr. Bar- ham looked upon the introduction of the great Whig wit into the chapter with some feeling of misgiving, but the tho/ough honesty and kind-heartedness of the new canon soon made themselves manifest to the apprehension of the candid ob- server. And differing, as they always did more or less, in political opinion, an appreciation of each other's worth grad- ually sprang up sufficient to induce a greater degree of in- timacy than might, under the circumstances, have been ex- pected. The first appearance of Mr. Smith at the Cathedral, for the purpose of taking possession of his stall, is thus briefly noted : " October 2, 1831. Rev. Sydney Smith read himself in as Residentiary at St. Paul's ; dined with him afterwards at Dr. Hughes's. He mentioned having once half offended Sam Rogers by recommending him, when he sat for his picture, to be drawn saying his prayers with his face in his hat." A NO THEK GHOST STOR Y. 1 1 9 TOWNSEND THE BOW STREET OFFICER. " Cannon called in the evening, and told us an adventure of his with Townsend, the Bow Street officer, at Brighton. A little Jew boy had been plaguing him the day before to buy pencils, saying that he had a sick mother, thirteen brothers and sisters, and that his father was dead, etc. Cannon gave him a trifle, but desired him not to bother him again. The next day, however, the little Israelite attacked him as before, when he called to Townsend, standing on the Steyne, and told him not to be rough with the lad, but to prevent his continuing to annoy him. " Townsend commenced a regular examination of the youth. ' Do you know Mr. Goldsmith ? Do you know Houndsditch ? ' etc., till he made Cannon open his eyes by asking, ' When were you last at Purim ? ' " The boy's answer was satisfactory, and when he was dis- missed Cannon turned to the officer and inquired how he came to know anything about the Jewish festivals. " ' Why God blesh you,' says Townsend, ' Purim's one of these rascals' grand feasts ; the High Priest wets his thumb, and the fellows fall a knocking as if they was all at Bartle-my fair. Why blesh your soul ! there was a Queen Easter, you know, once, and if it had not ha' been for her, all these scamps would have been hanged altogether. Now you know how I respect " The Establisment," so you won't be offended at what I am going to say, which is this you remember these " Smouches " are said to be " whited sepulchres," well enough to look at outside, but -good for nothing within well, so they continues to be to this very day and I 'm blessed if you '11 find any lead in that chap's pencils ! ' The illustration proved perfectly correct." ANOTHER GHOST STORY. "Diary: November 4, 1832. Mrs. Hughes told me the following ghost story. Her own grandfather had carried on a flirtation with Miss Richards of Compton, one of the richest 120 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. heiresses in his native country, but being, for a gentleman, in comparatively narrow circumstances, did not venture to pro- pose for her; nor was it till after he had engaged himself to another lady that he discovered the heiress might have been his but for the faint heart which prevented him from winning the fair lady. Miss Richards, however, remained a spinster for his sake, formed a strict intimacy with his sister, whom she prevailed upon to live with her, and when he had children adopted one of them a girl aunt to the lady from whom I had this story, and from whom she had it. "At the death of her father, Miss Richards inherited, among other possessions, the home farm called Compton Marsh, which remained in her own occupation under the management of a bailiff. This roan, named John , was engaged to be married to a good-looking girl, to whom he had long been attached, and who superintended the dairy. " One morning Miss Richards, who had adopted masculine habits, was going out with her greyhounds, accompanied by her firottgee, and called at the farm. Both the ladies were struck by the paleness and agitation evinced by the dairy- maid. Thinking some lover's quarrel might have taken place, the visitors questioned her strictly respecting the cause of her evident distress, and at length, with great difficulty, prevailed upon her to disclose it. " She said that on the night preceding she had gone to bed at her usual hour, and had fallen asleep, when she was awak- ened by a noise in her room. Rousing herself she sat upright and listened. The noise was not repeated, but between her- self and the window, in the clear moonlight, she saw John standing within a foot of the bed, and so near to her that by stretching out her hand she could have touched him. She called out immediately, and ordered him peremptorily to leave the room. He remained motionless, looking at her with a sad countenance, and in a low but distinct tone of voice bade her not be alarmed, as the only purpose of his visit was to inform her that he should not survive that day six weeks, naming at the same time two o'clock as the hour of his decease. As he A NO THER GHOST SFOf! Y. 121 ceased speaking, she perceived the figure gradually fading, and growing fainter in the moonlight, till, without appearing to move away, it grew indistinct in its outline and finally was lost to sight. " Much alarmed she rose and dressed herself, but found everything quite quiet in the house, and the door locked on the inside as usual. She did not return to bed, but had pru- dence enough to say nothing of what she had seen, either to John, or to any one else. Miss Richards commended her silence, advising her to adhere to it, on the ground that these kinds of prophecies sometimes bring their own completion along with them. "The time slipped away, and, notwithstanding her unaf- fected incredulity, Miss Richards could not forbear, on the morning of the day specified, riding down to the farm, where she found the girl uncommonly cheerful, having had no return of her vision, and her lover remaining still in full health. He was gone, she told the ladies, to Wantage market, with a load of cheese which he had to dispose of, and was expected back in a couple of hours. Miss Richards went on and pursued her favorite amusement of coursing. She had killed a hare, and was returning to the house with her companion, when they saw a female, whom they at once recognized as the dairy- maid, running with great swiftness up the avenue which led to the mansion. "They both immediately put their horses to their speed, Miss Richards exclaiming, ' Good God ! something has gone wrong at the farm ! ' The presentiment was verified. John had returned looking pale and complaining of fatigue, and soon after went to his own room, saying he should lie down for half an hour while the men were at dinner. He did so, but not returning at the time mentioned, the girl went to call him, and found him lying dead on his own bed. He had been seized with an aneurism of the heart ! " 122 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAAf. THE BEEFSTEAK CLUB. " February 9, 1833. Dined, for the first time, at the Beef- steak Club, held at the Bedford till the rebuilding of Arnold's theatre. The members present were Mr. Lewin (in the chair), Stephenson (vice), the Duke of Leinster, Lord Saltoun, Sir Andre* Barnard, Sir Ronald Ferguson, Sir John Cam Hob- house, Messrs. Hallett, Peake, Linley, and Arnold. All very amusing. Jokes of Lord Alvanley mentioned. At the late feteiA. Hatfield House, tableaux vivants were among the chief amusements, and scenes from 'Ivanhoe' were among the selections. All the parts were filled up but that of Isaac of York. Lady Salisbury begged Lord Alvanley 'to make the set complete by doing the Jew.' ' Anything in my power your ladyship may command,' replied Alvanley, ' but though no man in England has tried oftener, I never could do a Jew in my life.' " He half affronted Mr. Greville, with whom he was dining. The dining-room had been newly and splendidly furnished, whereas the dinner was but a very meagre and indifferent one. While some of the guests were flattering their host on his taste, magnificence, etc., ' For my part,' said his lordship, ' I had rather have seen less gilding and more carving.' " Of the Mr. Samuel Arnold just mentioned, Mr. Barbara observes elsewhere : " I first met him at Hawes's, several years before the institution of the ' Garrick,' where he was a member of the committee at the same time with myself. I encountered him the morning after his theatre (the English Opera-house, afterwards the Lyceum) was burnt down, by which he lost 6o,ooo/., and never saw a man meet misfortune with so much equanimity. His new theatre, which was raised by subscription completely failed, and when Osbaldiston took Covent Garden in 1835, and reduced the admission to the boxes to four shillings, Arnold reduced his price to two, but this did not succeed, while the property was materially depre- ciated by the measure. Arnold was one of the leading mem- bers of the Beefsteak Club where he was called ' the Bishop.' " SUETTS FUNERAL. 123 DENIALS OF AUTHORSHIP. To authors' oaths, as well as those of lovers, Jove, it is to be hoped, is particularly indulgent ; for, assuredly, whatever amount of affirmative perjury may be incurred by the latter, it is to the full paralleled by the ample negations put forth by the former. Southey distinctly denied the authorship of " The Doctor." But, perhaps, a greater degree of " nerve " was ex- hibited by Mr. Sydney Smith, who, positively disowning all connection with the " Plymley Letters " in one edition, actu- ally published them in a collection of his acknowledged works some few months after. The mystery that hung so long around the Wizard of the North is yet more notorious ; the anecdote which follows may serve to show the anxiety of the " Great Unknown " to preserve his incognito : "February II, 1833. Dined with Sir George Warrender at his house in Albemarle Street. Met Lord Saltoun, John Wil- son Croker, Sir Andrew Barnard, Mr. Barrow of the Admiralty, John Murray, the publisher, Mr. Littleton, Sir Charles Bagot, Mr. Lee, an artist, Francis Mills, and James Smith. " Murray told me that Sir Walter Scott, on being taxed by him as the author of ' Old Mortality,' not only denied having written it, but added, ' In order to convince you that I am not the author, I will review the book for you in the " Quarterly " which he actually did, and Murray still has the MS. in his handwriting. SUETT'S FUNERAL. "Diary: March 24, 1834. Dined at the ' Garrick ; ' Mr. Williams, the banker, in the chair, Fladgate, croupier, Charles Mathews (the father), E. Parrott, Westmacott, the sculptor, Mortimer Drummond, T. Clarke, Tom Hill, J. R. Durrant, W. Beloe, myself, and John Murray. We twelve were seated when Hook arrived. He looked at first very blank on finding himself the thirteenth, but being told that Charles Young the actor was expected immediately took his seat, and we had a very pleasant evening. C. Mathews gave a very amusing ac- count of poor Dicky Suett's funeral which he had attended as 124 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. a mourner. Suett lies buried in St. Paul's Church-yard, in the burial-ground belonging to St. Faith, nearly opposite the shop of Dollond the optician, and just within the rails. Suett had been brought up originally as a boy in the choir. Mathews and Captain Caulfield (whom I have often seen perform, and whose personation of Suett, Mathews said, was much more perfect than his own) were in the same coach with Jack Ban- ister and Palmer. The latter sat wrapt up in angry and in- dignant silence at the tricks which the two younger mourners (who, by the way, had known but little of Suett, and were in- vited out of compliment) were playing off ; but Banister, who was much affected by the loss of his old friend, nevertheless could not refrain from laughing occasionally in the midst of his grief and while the tears were actually running from his eyes. Mr. Whittle, commonly called 'Jemmy Whittle,' of the firm of Laurie and Whittle, stationers, in Fleet Street, was an old and intimate friend of Suett's. As the procession ap- proached, he came and stood at his own door to look at it, when Caulfield called out to him from the mourning-coach in Suett's voice, " ' Aha ! Jemmy O la ! I 'm going to be buried ! O la ! O lawk ! O dear ! ' " Whittle ran back into the house absolutely frightened. Similar scenes took place the whole of the way. The burial service was read, when, just as the clergyman had concluded it, an urchin seated on a tombstone close by the rails began clapping his hands. The whole company were struck by this singular conclusion to a theatrical funeral ; but the boy when questioned and taken to task for the indecency said, " ' La ! there was only them two dogs outside as wanted to fight, and was afraid to begin, so I did it to set 'em on.' " Mathews also gave a very entertaining account of his hav- ing been recommended by Mr. Lowdham, a member of the club, to stop at a particular inn in Nottingham, when upon his last theatrical tour. He found it, however, quite a third-rate inn, and could get no attendance. Half a dozen different peo- ple successively answered the bell when he rang, stared at "MY COUSIN NICHOLAS." 12$ him, said ' Yes, sir ! ' and went away ; nor could he get any one to show him into a private room, though he had bespoken one. At last a great lubberly boy came blubbering into the room, when Mathews addressed him very angrily : " M. When am I to have my private room ? " Boy. We ha'n't got none but one, and that 's bespoke for Mathews the player. " M. Well, I am Mathews the player, as you call him. " Boy. Oh, then you may come this way ! " He was ushered at length into a room with a fire just lighted, and full of smoke ; still there was nothing to be got to eat, while Mathews, who had travelled between forty and fifty miles that day, was very hungry. " M. Send me up the master of the house! Where is the master ? " Boy. He 's dead, sir ! " M. Then send the mistress. " Boy. Mother 's gone out ! " M. Well, do let me have something to eat at all events ; can you get me a mutton chop ? " Boy. Not till mother comes home. " M. Well, then, some cold meat anything. Confound it, boy, have you got nothing in the house ? "Boy. Yes, sir! " Well, what is it then ? " Here the poor boy burst into a flood of tears and blub- bered out ' An execution, sir ! ' " Late in the evening Young did come, and sang with great taste and feeling Sheridan's 'When 'tis Night.' Hook im- provised, as usual with him, on the company, but was not al- together so happy as I have sometimes heard him." " MY COUSIN NICHOLAS." The completion and publication of " My Cousin Nicholas " were immediately owing to the kindly interference of Mrs. Hughes. Having read " Baldwin," and having learnt that another tale was lying unfinished in Mr. Barham's desk, she 126 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. prevailed upon him to lend her the manuscript. So favorable was her opinion of its merits that without more ado she sub- mitted it to the inspection of Mr. Black wood, and the first in- timation the author received of the circumstance was conveyed in the shape of a packet containing the proof-sheets of the opening chapters. As his zealous friend had pledged her word for the continuation of the work all retreat was cut off ; there was nothing for it but diligently to take the matter in hand, and endeavor to surmount those obstacles that had caused him to lay his pen aside. Whatever the difficulties may have been, they were speeeily overcome, " My Cousin's " adventures were carried on monthly with spirit, and the catas- trophe was worked up in a manner that certainly brought no discredit on the earlier portions of the novel. Mr. Barham always asserted that he was singularly de- ficient in the faculty of invention. " Give me a story to tell," he would say, " and I can tell it, in my own way ; but I can't invent one ! " and although " My Cousin Nicholas " might, I think, be fairly cited as a witness to the injustice of the dis- claimer, there is no doubt that the character of his hero's es- capades was suggested by an event which occurred in the life of the author's father, and which the former once thought of producing under the title of " My Grandfather's Knocker !' ' The circumstances, as nearly as I can recollect them, were as follows : Somewhere about a century ago, rather more than less, Richard Barham, of Farmstead, became by marriage the owner of some property principally hop-gardens lying in close vicinity to Canterbury, and also of a large red-brick house situated within the city walls. It is, I believe, still in existence, inclosed by its high garden walls, above which the tops of a few trees look down refreshingly upon the narrow streets of Burgate. But in addition to house and land, Mrs. Barham brought her husband in due time a son and heir Richard Harris, the father of the subject of this memoir. Having reached man's estate, Richard Harris declined longer residence in the red-brick house which was only occasion- "MY COUSIN NICHOLAS:' 127 ally inhabited by his father, who spent a good deal of his time at Tapton Wood and set up a bachelor's establishment for himself. One morning the elder gentleman, who seems to have been of a peppery turn, was roused to fury by the dis- appearance of a magnificent brass knocker which had hitherto formed the glory of his front door. It had clearly been wrenched off in the course of the night, by way of a "spree," as this lively diversion afterwards came to be called. Mr. Barham, senior, raved ; Mr. Barham, junior, condoled ; both were indignant. But nothing came of raving, condolence, or indignation ! The offender could not be punished, for the offender could not be found, and so by degrees the offense dropped out of memory. It chanced, some time after, that on a certain day the old gentleman rode in from the country, and, not disposed to spend the evening alone in his own rather gloomy mansion, he betook him to the lodging of his son. Richard Harris was of course delighted to see his father, and taxed his resources to the uttermost in the endeavor to enter- tain him. Dinner was discussed, and after dinner a liberal allowance of port wine, 1 and then, according to the fashion of the age, preparations were made for winding up the feast with a bowl of punch. " The materials " were at hand, and availa- ble all save the sugar, and the sugar was in large refractory lumps that defied ordinary manipulation. The housekeeper was accordingly summoned, and desired to reduce a sufficient quantity of the " best loaf " to powder. Quietly proceeding to a cupboard in the room, the woman provided herself with an implement which, if not expressly constructed for the pur- pose of trituration, was evidently well enough adapted to it, 1 I am not speaking at hap-hazard here. My grandfather always drank a bottle of port wine a day. The doctors interfered at last when his bulk became enormous and limited him to a pint. " Well, said he, " if I am to have only a pint, a pint it shall be ; I will not be fobbed off with one of those abominations that contain little more than a half." And so, anticipating the Imperial measure movement, he had a number of bottles made expressly for him, holding each a legitimate pint. A few of these with his cipher stamped upon the shoulder I still possess. One pint of wine, however, he found scarcely sufficient, and so he tried two, thus, in place of reducing his former allowance by half, increased it by about a third. They argued with him, but he persisted in his opinion that two pints were equal to one bottle, and that one bottle of port could not hurt any man. He died at forty-eight. 128 RICHARD HARRIS BARffAM. and commenced pounding away. The old gentleman raised his eyes at the noise, then sprang to his feet, then fired off expression after expression of a sort that no old gentleman ought to fire off. It must, however, be admitted that the provocation was not a slight one, for there was the solution of the mystery there in calm complacency was his son's cook hammering away at the loaf sugar with the desecrated brass knocker of which he had, so heartlessly bereaved ! Mr. Barham senior left the house immediately, would listen to no excuses, but executed a fresh will forthwith, leaving his prop- erty to be divided between his two daughters, and refused to hold any further communication with his truly penitent son. The alienation lasted for a year or two. Then at length the remonstrances of friends prevailed, and forgiveness was ex- tended, I am exceedingly happy to say, to my too mercurial grandfather. Of the minor characters presented in the novel, one at least was taken from the life. There are doubtless many Oxford men yet living who can remember " Doctor Toe," as from a peculiarity of his gait he was nicknamed, the Dean of Brase- nose, and the hero of Reginald Heber's " Whippiad." Not only defeated in battle within his very stronghold "Where whitened Cain the wrath of Heaven defies, And leaden slumbers close his brother's eyes, Where o'er the porch in brazen splendor glows Tlie vast projection of the mystic noscj" but more bitter humiliation still jilted in love, deserted by his affianced bride, who ran off with her father's footman, the unfortunate doctor formed the subject of a number of Uni- versity squibs, and among them of an epigram worth repeat- ing: 'Twixt Footman John and Doctor Toe A rivalship befell, Which of the two should be the beau To bear away the belle. "The Footman won the lady's heart, And who can blame her ? No man The whole prevailed against a part, T was Fiat-ma* vrrtta Tot-man ! " WILLIAM LINLEY. 129 The burlesque personification of " Doctor Toe " is said to have been actually perpetrated by an ancestor of the present Lord Lyttleton. And again, the denial of his father by Nicho- las an incident subsequently introduced by Mr. Boucicault in his popular comedy of " London Assurance " is no fiction, but owes its origin to a similar prank played by the well-known humorist, Bonnell Thornton. WILLIAM LINLEY. ''Diary : May, 1834. William Linley, brother to the first Mrs. Sheridan, though a man of the world, and a member of the celebrated ' Beefsteak Club,' the hoaxing propensities of whose members are so proverbial, was a man of great good- nature and still greater simplicity of mind. He always occu- pied a particular table at the ' Garrick,' and, though a general favorite, was somewhat too fond of reciting long speeches from various authors, generally Shakespeare. It was one day in this month that he had begun to spout from the opening scene in ' Macbeth,' and would probably have gone through it if I had not cut him short at the third line 'When the hurly-burly 's done," with ' What on earth are you talking about ? Why, my dear Linley, it is astonishing that a man so well read in Shake- speare as yourself should adopt that nonsensical reading ! What is l hurly-burly^ 1 pray ? There is no such word in the language ; you can't find an allusion to it in Johnson.' Lin- ley, whose veneration for Dr. Johnson was only inferior to that which he entertained for the great poet himself, said, " ' Indeed ! are you sure there is not ? What can be the rea- son of the omission ? The word, you see, is used by Shake- speare.' " ' No such thing,' was the reply ; ' it appears so indeed in one or two early editions, but it is evidently mistranscribed. The second folio is the best and most authentic copy, and gives the true reading, though the old nonsense is still retained upon the stage ! ' 9 130 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. " ' Indeed, and pray what do you call the true reading ? ' " ' Why, of course, the same that is followed by Johnson and Steevens in the edition up-stairs : " When the tarly furl is done ; " that is, when we have finished our " early purl," /. e. directly after breakfast.' " Linley was startled, and after looking steadily at me to see if he could discover any indication of an intention to hoax him, became quite puzzled by the gravity of my countenance, and only gave vent in a hesitating tone, half-doubtful, half-indig- nant, to the word ' Nonsense ! ' "' Nonsense ? It is as I assure you. We will send for the book, and see what Steevens says in his note upon the pas- sage.' " The book was accordingly sent for, but I took good care to intercept it before it reached the hands of Linley, and taking it from the servant pretended to read from the volume ' When the hurly-burly 's done. ' Some copies have it, " When the early purl is done ; " and I am inclined to think this reading- the true one, if the well- known distich be worthy of credit " Hops, reformation, turkeys, and beer, Came to England all in one year/' This would seem to fix the introduction of beer, and conse- quently of early purl, into the country to about that period of Henry VII I. 's reign when he intermarried with Anne Boleyn, the mother of Queen Elizabeth, Shakespeare's great friend and patroness, and to whom this allusion may perhaps have been intended by the poet as a delicate compliment. Purl, it is well known, was a favorite beverage at the English court dur- ing the latter part of the sixteenth century ; and from the ep- ithet then affixed to it "early," an adjunct which it still retains, was no doubt in common use for breakfast at a time when the China trade had not yet made our ancestors familiar with the produce of the tea-plant. Theobald's objection, that, whatever WILLIAM LINLEY. ' 131 may have been the propriety of its introduction at the court of Elizabeth, the mention made of it at that of Macbeth would be a gross anachronism, may be at once dismissed as futile. Does not Shakespeare, in the very next scene, talk of "Cannons overcharged with double cracks ? " and is not allusion made by him to the use of the same bever- age at the court of Denmark, at a period coeval, or nearly so, with that under consideration " Hamlet, this purl is thine? " ' " ' But, dear me ! ' broke in Linley, ' that is pearl, not purl. I remember old Packer used to hold up a pearl, and let it drop into the cup.' " ' Sheer misconception on the part of a very indifferent actor, my dear Linley, be assured.' " Here Beazley, who was present, observed, ' "Early purl " is all very well, but my own opinion has always leaned to War- burton's conjecture that a political allusion is intended. He suggests " When the Earl of Burleigh 's done ; " that is, when we have " done," /". e., cheated or deceived, the Earl of Burleigh, a great statesman, you know, in Elizabeth's time, and one whom, to use a cant phrase among ourselves, ' you must get up very early in the morning to take in ! " " ' But what had Macbeth or the witches to do with the Earl of Burleigh ? Stuff ! nonsense ! ' said Linley, indig- nantly. And though .Beazley made a good fight in defense of his version, yet his opponent would not listen to it for an instant. "'No, no,' he continued, 'the Earl of Burleigh is all rub- bish, but there may be something in the other reading.' " And as the book was closed directly the passage had been repeated, and was replaced immediately on the shelf, the un- suspicious critic went away thoroughly mystified, especially as Tom Hill, for whose acquaintance with early English litera- ture he had a great respect, confirmed the emendation with 132 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAU. " ' " Early purl ! " Pooh ! pooh ! to be sure it is " early purl ; " I 've got it so in two of my old copies.' " HAYNES BAYLEY. Nothing on earth, by the way, is so soothing as that gentle- man's verses ; but that he would be thought- a plagiarist, I think Nicholas might do a little in that way, to the tune of " Oh, no ! we never mention him," etc. " They say tliat I am silent, and my silence they condemn, For oh ! although they talk to me, I never talk to them ! I heed not what they think, although I know 'tis thought by some That I am dumb or deaf, but oh ! I 'm neither deaf nor dumb ! " They say I 'm looking sick and pale ; and well indeed they may ; They tell me, too, that I am sad ; I 'm anything but gay ! They smile but oh ! the more they smile, the more, alas ! I sigh ; And when they strive to make me laugh, I turn me round and cry I " They bid me sing the song I sung, as I have sung before, The song I sung no more I sing my Ringing days are o'er ! They bid me play the fiddle, too my fiddle it is mute ! Nor can I, as I used to do, blow tunes upon the flute! * The feeling fain would soothe my woe, the heartless say I sham ; The ribald mnck my grief, and call me Sentimental Saml They cannot guess what 't is I want There 's few indeed that can : I want I want I want to be a butterfly, and flutter round a fan ! " "GETTING A LITTLE FISHING." During the months of June and July, 1834, Mr. Barham spent his summer holidays at Strand-on-Green, where he had engaged a snug little cottage. Hanwell was his usual retreat, his duties rarely allowing him to select one beyond the reach of the great bell of Paul's ; but this year he pitched upon Strand-on-Green, with some design, I believe, of "getting a little fishing." And for the first week or two attempts were occasionally made upon the wary gudgeons of Kew, but the expedition generally ended in some grave piscatorial disaster the line became inextricably tangled in a worse than Gor- LINES LEFT AT HOOK'S HOUSE. 133 dian knot, or the hooks got foul, and had to be extracted by a surgical operation from calf or coat-tail, or the worms broke loose and buried themselves in inaccessible corners of the waistcoat pocket ; and then rods and winches would be packed up, and the pleasure of the day began in earnest. At times, but not without expression of utter distrust of my competency as a waterman, he would permit me to scull him about the river, and one afternoon, on our finding ourselves opposite the house of Theodore Hook at Fulham, he determined to land and make a call on his friend. Hook was not at home ; so, having no card with* him, Mr. Barham asked for pen and paper, and while standing in the hall scribbled off, in as short a time as the reader would take to copy them, the follow- ing: LINES LEFT AT HOOK'S HOUSE IN JUNE, 1834. " As Dick and I Were a sailing by At Fulham Bridge, I cocked my eye, And says I, ' Add-zooks! There 's Theodore Hook's, Whose Sayings and Doings make such pretty books. " ' I wonder,' says I, Still keeping my eye On the house, ' if he 's in I should like to try ; ' With his oar on his knee, Says Dick, says he, * Father, suppose you land and see ! ' " 'What! land and sea,' Says I to he ; ' Together ! why, Dick, why how can that be ?' And my comical son, Who is fond of fun, I thought would have split his sides at the pun. " So we rows to shore, And knocks at the door When William, a man I 'd seen often before, Makes answer and says, ' Master 's gone in a chaise Called a homnibus, drawn by a couple of bays.' 134 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. " So I say* then, ' Just lend me a pen ; ' * I wull, sir,' says William politest of men, 1 So having no card, these poetical brayings Are the record I leave of my doings and sayings. ' " ANECDOTES OF TALLEYRAND. " Diary : August 26, 1834. Party at Williams's. Mac- ready, Jerdan, etc. Abbot had just disappeared, an execution having been put into the Victoria Theatre by Randle Jackson. Talleyrand spoken of as ' having a cold gray eye and perfect impassibility of feature.' He being asked if Sebastiani was not a relative of Napoleon, answered, ' Yes, while he was em- peror; not now!' Meeting the Duke of Wellington on his return from his installation as Chancellor of Oxford, he (Tal- leyrand) told him that he was now covered with glory ; adding that no doubt they would end by making him a bishop ; ' Vous finissez oil fai commend ! ' ' BON MOT OF POWER'S. " Macready told a story of George B the actor, who, it seems, is not popular in the profession, being considered a sort of time-server : ' There goes Georgius,' said some one. ' Not Georgium Sidus,' replied Keeley ; ' Yes,' added Power, ' Georgium Any-s\dus.' " SYDNEY SMITHISMS. "Diary: November 16, 1834. Dined with Sydney Smith. He said that his brother Robert had, in George III.'s time, translated the motto, Libertas sub rege pin, ' The pious King has got liberty under ; ' also, that he had originally proposed to Jeffrey, Horner, and Brougham, as a motto for the ' Edinburgh Review,' Mtisam meditamur avend, ' We cultivate literature on a little oatmeal.' 1 This proved eventually not to be a well-placed epithet ; William, who h.ul lived many years with HonU, grew rich and saucy. The latter used to say of him, that for the firit three years he wa as good a servant as ever came into a house : for the next two a kind and considerate friend: and afterwards an abominably lad master- STOKY OF YATES. 135 " ' If ever a religious war should arise again,' he said, ' I should certainly take arms against the Dissenters. Fancy me with a bayonet at the heart of an Anabaptist, with, " Your church-rate or your life ! " " He said nothing should ever induce him to go up in a balloon, unless indeed it would benefit the Established Church. I recommended him to go at once, as there would at least be a chance of it." STORY OF YATES. "Diary : January i, 1835. The following story was told me as a fact by George Raymond. Yates (the well-known actor and manager of the Adelphi Theatre) met a friend from Bristol in the street, whom he well recollected as having been particularly civil to his wife and himself when at that town, in which the gentleman was a merchant. Yates, who at that time lived at the Adelphi Theatre, invited his friend to dinner, and made a party, among whom were Hook and Mathews, to meet him. On reaching home he told his wife what he had done, describing the gentleman, and calling to her mind how often they had been at his house near the cathedral. " ' I remember him very well,' said Mrs. Yates, ' but I don't just now recollect his name what is it ? ' " ' Why, that is the very question I was going to ask you,' returned Yates. ' I know the man as well as I know my own father, but for the life of me I can't remember his name, and I made no attempt to ascertain it, as I made sure you would recollect it ! ' " What was to be done ? all that night and the next morn- ing they tried in vain to recover it, but the name had com- pletely escaped them. In this dilemma Yates bethought him of giving instructions to their servant which he considered would solve the difficulty, and calling him in told him to be very careful in asking every gentleman, as he arrived, his name, and to be sure to announce it very distinctly. Six o'clock came, and with it the company in succession, Hook, Mathews, and the rest all but the anonymous guest, whom 136 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. Yates began to think, and almost to hope, would not come at all. Just, however, before the dinner, was put on the table, a knock was heard, and the lad being at that moment in the kitchen, in the act of carrying up a haunch of mutton which the cook had put into his hands, a maid-servant went to the door, admitted the stranger, showed him up-stairs, and opening the drawing-room door allowed him to walk in without any an- nouncement at all. At dinner-time even-body took wine with the unknown, addressing him as ' Sir,' ' A glass of wine, sir ? ' ' Shall I have the honor, sir ? ' etc., but nothing transpired to let out the name, though several roundabout attempts were made to get at it. The evening passed away, and the gentle- man was highly delighted with the company, but about half- past ten o'clock he looked at his watch and rose abruptly, saying, " ' Faith, I must be off, or I shall get shut out, for I am going to sleep at a friend's, in the Tower, who starts for Bris- tol with me in the morning. They close the gates at eleven precisely, and I sha'n't get in if I am a minute after, so good- by at once. Be sure you come and see me whenever you visit Bristol." " ' Depend on me, my dear friend ; God bless you, if you must go ! ' "'Adieu,' said the other, and Yates was congratulating himself on having got out of so awkward a scrape, "when his friend popped his head back into the mom, and cried hastily, " ' Oh, by the bye, my dear Yates, I forgot to tell you that I bought a pretty French clock as I came here to-day, at Haw- ley's, but as it needs a week's regulating, I took the liberty of giving your name, and ordering them to send it here, and said that you would forward it. It is paid for.' "The door closed, and before Yates could get it open again, the gentleman was in the hall. " ' Stop ! ' screamed Yates over the balusters, ' you had better write the address yourself, for fear of a mistake. " ' No, no, 1 can't stop, I shall be too late ; the old house, near the cathedral ; good-by ! ' THE CANISTER. 137 " The street door slammed behind him, and Yates went back to the company in an agony. " Douglas repeated a story very similar of King the actor, who, meeting an old friend, whose name he could not recol- lect, took him home to dinner. By way of making the dis- cover)', he addressed him in the evening, having previously made several ineffectual efforts : " ' My dear sir, my friend here and myself have had a dis- pute as to how you spell your name ; indeed, we have laid a bottle of wine about it.' " ' Oh, with two P's,' was the answer, which left them just as wise as before.' " THE CANISTER. " We are by no means out of spirit here ; though Sir Robert has given in for the present, his character and that of his Ministry is so raised by his manly and able fight, in the opin- ion of all classes, save and except the mere Marats and Robes- pierres, who are happily contemptible in point of numbers, that it is quite clear indeed, many of his opponents admit it that no stable administration can be formed without him. Even my poor friend V. that ' delicately tinted Radical,' as ' The Age ' not unhappily calls him admits this, sore as he is at having been just turned out of his seat, when he was set- tling himself quietly down and half making up his mind to turn Conservative. After all, he is a gentleman, and a good- natured one, as you will admit when I tell you he did not knock me down for the following piece of impertinence. They were roasting him at the Garrick Club, just before he was unseated, and charging him with belonging to ' The Tail,' which he indignantly denied. ' I will appeal,' said he, ' to the biggest Tory in the room ; Barham, what say you ? Do I deserve, after the manner I have twice voted, to be called a part of the " Tail ? " ' Certainly not,' was the reply : ' you are the canister ! ' He did not seem so flattered by my tak- ing his part as he ought to have been, but I escaped a broken head." 138 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. A DINNER AT CHARLES KEMBLE'S. "Diary : December 12, 1835. Dined at Charles Kemble's : a quiet dinner. In the evening Mr. Trelawney (Byron's Tre- lawney) came in : very like a goodish-looking bandit ; radical to the extreme; talked of having 'no objection to calling a man a king, with a moderate salary, when the House of Peers should be purged,' etc. ; said that women might induce him to commit murder, or, ' what was worse, petty larceny ! ' "Story of Edward Walpole, who, being told one day at the ' Garrick ' that the confectioners had a way of discharging the ink from old parchment by a chemical process, and then mak- ing the parchment into isinglass for their jellies, said, ' Then I find a man may now eat his deeds as well as his words.' This has been very unfairly, like a great many other bons mots, attributed to James Smith. THOMAS MOORE. " April 18, 1836. Dined with Owen Rees in Paternoster Row. Present, Mr. Longman, senior, Messrs. C. Longman, T. Longman, W. Longman, Tom Moore, Dr. M'Culloch, Mr. Green, the host, and myself. Dr. Hume, Sydney Smith, and Mr. Tate asked, but could not come. " Moore gave an account of the King's (George IV.) visit to Ireland. One man, whom the King took notice of and shook hands with, cried, ' There, then, the divil a drop of wather ye shall ever have to wash that shake o' the hand off of me ! ' and by the color of the said hand a year after it would seem that he had religiously kept his word. Moore told this story to Scott, together with another referring to the same occasion. He spoke of Jeffrey as an excellent judge, and remarked on the difference between his conversation and that of Scott. Scott all anecdote, without any intermediate matter all fact; Jeffrey with a profusion of ideas all worked up into the highest flight of fancy, but no fact. Moore pre- ferred Scott's conversation to Jeffrey's : the latter he got tired of. THOMAS MOORE. 139 " Anecdote of the little Eton boy invited to dinner at Wind- sor Castle, and being asked by Queen Adelaide what he would like, replied, * One of those two-penny tarts, if you please, ma'am.' Lord Lansdowne's description of Sydney Smith as ' a mixture of Punch and Cato.' Moore lamented that though his son had just distinguished himself by gaining an exhibi- tion at the Charter House, when his historical essays had been particularly applauded, the prize would be of no use to him, barring the honor, as he is determined to enter the army. His father consoled himself by reflecting that he had given up his original wish, which was for the navy. " J. Longman's story of the rival convents, each possessing the same (alleged) relics of St. Francis, the one having fur- nished its reliquary with the beard of an old goat belonging to the establishment, the other asserting its superiority non pour la grandeur, mais pour lafraicheur. "Moore talked of O'Connell, and said that he had recently met him in a bookseller's shop ordering materials, in the shape of books, for his new ' Quarterly Review,' and that he had inadvertently offered to lend him a small volume respecting Ireland, but added that he must manage to slip out of his promise somehow. " Dan, he said, manoeuvred evidently that they might walk away together, but he (Moore) fought shy of the companionship and outstayed him. He spoke of O'Brien, the author of the ' Round Towers,' and said that that person's hostility to him was occasioned by his declining a proposal for a sort of part- nership in publication. O'Brien wrote to him when he under- took the ' History of Ireland,' saying that he had a complete key to the origin and meaning of the ' Round Towers,' and pro- posed to communicate his secret. If Moore used O'Brien's MS., the compensation was to be a hundred pounds ; if he took the materials and worked them up in his own way, a hun- dred and fifty was to be the sum. This was refused, and O'Brien was deeply offended. He died of an epileptic fit at Hanwell in 1835, an d lies buried in the extreme northwest corner of the church-yard, close to the rector's garden. I hap- I4O RICHARD HARRIS BAR//A<1f. pened accidentally to be present at his funeral. Mr. Mahony, the Father Prout of " Fraser," was a mourner, and, as' I have heard, paid the expenses.' " Conversation respecting Hook's proposed ' History of Hanover' all of opinion that it would not answer. Moore said that he had met Hook twice only, once at Croker's, in Paris ; that he was very silent both times, and called Croker ' Sir.' " It was, I believe, on this occasion that one of the Messrs. Longman present mentioned to my father the following quaint answer returned by Sydney Smith to an invitation to din- ner : " DEAR LONGMAN, I can't accept your invitation, for my house is full of country cousins. I wish they were once removed. Yours, SYDNEY SMITH." " I dined in company with Tom Moore the other day, who talked to me a good deal about him, and said that Lord Lans- downe, in allusion to his severity as a man of business and levity at the dinner-table, described him as being 'an odd mixture of Punch and Cato.' He could hardly have hit him off better. I know you are not over fond of Moore: /hate his politics, but he is a very amusing companion. " I must tell you one of his stories, because as Sir Walter Scott is the hero of it, I know it will not be unacceptable to you. When George IV. went to Ireland, one of the 'pisin- try,' delighted with his affability to the crowd on landing, said to the toll-keeper as the King passed through, " ' Och, now ! and his Majesty, God bless him, never paid the turnpike ! an' how 's that ? ' " ' Oh ! kings never does : we lets 'em go free,' was the answer. "'Then there's the dirty money for ye,' says Pat. 'It shall never be said that the King came here, and found no- body to pay the turnpike for him.' " Moore, on his visit to Abbotsford, told this story to Sir Walter, when they were comparing notes as to the two royal visits. BAR HA M'S LO VE FOR CHILDREN AND CA TS. 141 " ' Now, Mr. Moore,' replied Scott, ' there ye have just the advantafe of us. There was no want of enthusiasm here : the Scotch folk would have done anything in the world for his Majesty, but pay the turnpike.' " BARHAM'S LOVE OF CHILDREN AND CATS. In his intercourse with his children, but more particularly with his youngest son. Ned, my father was always playful and affectionate. He loved to have them about him, and would continue to read and write, keeping them up of an evening far beyond the canonical hours, wholly unmindful of the chatter- ing that raged around. Our delight was at its height when he could be coaxed into laying aside pen and book, and induced to draw round to the fire and " tell us a story." He had a manner of doing this, half thrilling, half comic, leaving the audience in a pleasing state of excitement, mingled with un- certainty as to the exact amount of credit to be given to the narrative, that proved strangely fascinating to us young folks, to say nothing of our elders. The pleasure second only in degree was to receive* a letter from him. This would not un- frequently be written in verse, but always with a liveliness and easy humor which, while specially adapted to the taste and capacity of the child, may be read perhaps with some de- gree of amusement by those of larger growth. At all events, a trait of character is exhibited in these unstudied effusions, without some notice of which the present slight sketch would be yet more incomplete. TO MASTER EDWARD BARHAM (xtat. 8). "August 17, 1836. " My dear little Ned, As I fear you have read All the books that you have, from great A down to Z, And your aunt, too, has said That you ; re very well bred, And don't scream and yell fit to waken the dead, I think that instead Of that vile gingerbread With which little boys, I know, like to be fed 142 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. (Though, lying like lead On the stomach, the head , Gets affected, of which most mammas have a dread), I shall rather be led Before you to spread These two little volumes, one blue and one red. As three shillings have fled From my pocket, dear Ned. Don't dog's-ear nor dirt them, nor read them in bed! " Your affectionate Father, R. H. B." Next to his wife and children, I verily believe my father loved his cats. One or two would commonly be seen sitting on his table sometimes on his shoulder as he wrote ; and these animals, constantly taught and tended by his youngest daughter, attained a degree of docility and intelligence that in good King James's day might have brought their mistress into disagreeable communication with His Majesty's Witchfinder- General. The progenitor of the race was brought home by Mr. Ilarham, not without serious detriment to his broadcloth, one wet night soon after his arrival in London. He had rescued the poor little creature, bleeding and muddy, from a band of juvenile street Arabs, who were engaged in studying practically " the art of ingeniously tormenting." The progeny survived, and was ever held in high esteem. One of my father's last injunctions was " Take care of ' Chance ' (an in- terloper) for my sake : Jerry (the representative of the true breed) will be taken care of for his own." On the back of an old letter there is scribbled a sort of remonstrance addressed to the latter : TO JERRY. "Jerry, my cat. What the deuce are you at ? What makes you so restless? You 're sleek and you're fat, And you 've everything; cozy about you, now that Soft rug you are lying on beats any mat ; Your coat 's smooth as silk, You've plenty of milk, You've the fish-bones for dinner, and always o 1 nights For (.upper you know you 've a penn'orth o' lights t Jerry, my cat. What the deuce are you it? MAS. RICKETTS* GHOST STORY. 143 What is it, my Jerry, that fidgets you so? What is it you're wanting ? (Jerry) Moll roe ! Moll roe! " Oh, don't talk to me of such nonsense as th.it ! You 've been always a very respectable cat ; As the Scotch would say, ' Whiles ' You T ve been out on the tiles ; But you 've sown your wild oats, and you very well know You 're no longer a kitten. (Jerry) Moll roe ! Moll roe I "Well, Jerry, I "m really concerned for your case : I 've been young, and can fancy myself in your place : Time has been I 've stood By the edge of the wood, And have mewed that is, whistled, a Sound just as good ; But we 're both of us older, my cat, as you know,. And I hope are grown wiser. (Jerry) Moll roe! Moll roe ! " MRS. RICKETTS' GHOST STORY. " It was about the period when Captain Jervis, afterwards Earl St. Vincent, commanded the Thunderer (Foudroyant ?) in which he so much distinguished himself, that on the return of that gallant commander to England, he found his sister, Mrs. Ricketts, the wife of Mr. Ricketts of Jamaica, a bencher of Gray's Inn, residing in a house between Alston and Als- ford in Hampshire, about four or five miles from Abingdon, the seat of the Buckingham family. This house, then called ' New House,' was part of the property of the noble family of Legge, and of that particular branch of it of which the Lord Stawell (a peerage now extinct) had been the head. It had been principally occupied during* his life by a Mr. Legge, a scion of the family, notorious for his debauched and profligate habits, and after his decease had remained for some time un- occupied, gradually acquiring, as is the case with most un- occupied mansions of a similar description, the reputation of being the resort of supernatural visitants. " To this circumstance, perhaps, and the consequent diffi- culty of finding a tenant, may be attributed the easy terms on 144 RICHARD HARRIS BAKU A.M. which Mr. Ricketts obtained it as a residence for his wife and family, during his own absence on a visit to his estates in the West Indies. This gentleman seems to have held the stories connected with the building in thorough contempt, a sentiment partaken of by Mrs. Ricketts herself, who was nat- urally a strong-minded woman, and whose good sense had acquired additional strength from the advantages of an excel- lent education. " To ' New House ' then the lady had repaired almost im- mediately after her husband's departure for Jamaica, purpos- ing in quiet retirement to superintend there the education of her daughter (afterwards married to the Earl of Northesk). " Mrs. Ricketts had not long been located in her new dom- icile, before the servants began to complain of certain unac- countable noises which were heard in the house by day as well as by night, and the origin of which they found it impos- sible to detect. The story of the house being haunted was revived with additional vigor, especially when its mistress be- came herself an ear-witness of those remarkable sounds, and an investigation, set on foot and carried on under her own immediate superintendence, assisted by several friends whom she called in upon the occasion, had proved as ineffectual as those previously instituted by the domestics. The noises continued, as did the alarm of the servants, which increased to an absolute panic, and the whole of them at length, with the exception of an old and attached attendant on Mrs. Rick- etts' person, gave warning and left their situations in a body. " A thorough change in the household, however, produced no other effect than that of proving beyond a doubt that the noises, from whatever cause they might proceed, were at least not produced by the instrumentality or collusion of the domestics. A second and a third set were tried, but with no better result ; few could be prevailed upon to stay beyond the month. " It was at this time that Mrs. Gwynne, from whose mouth Mrs. Hughes had this relation, came to reside a short time with her old and dear friend, and being a woman of strong MRS RICKETTS^ GHOST STORY. 145 nerve, she remained with her longer than she had originally intended, although not a day or night passed without their being disturbed. Mrs. Gwynne described the sounds as most frequently resembling the ripping and rending of boards, ap- parently those of the floor above, or below (as the case might be) that in which her friend and herself were sitting ; but on more than one occasion she herself distinctly heard the whis- perings of three voices, seemingly so close to her that, by put- ting out her hand, she fancied she could have touched the persons uttering them. One of the voices was clearly that of a female, who appeared to be earnestly imploring some one with tears and sobbings ; a manly, resolute voice was evi- dently refusing her entreaty, while rough, harsh, and most dis- cordant tones, as of some hardened ruffian, were occasion- ally heard interfering ; these last were succeeded by two loud and piercing shrieks from the female ; then followed the crashing of boards again, and all was quiet for the time. " The visitations were so frequently repeated that, at length, even Mrs. G Wynne's constancy began to give way, and she prepared to leave her friend. Previously to her de- parture, however, she was aroused one night by Mrs. Rick- etts' cries (who slept in the next chamber to her), and on run- ning to her assistance, was informed that, just before, she, Mrs. Ricketts, had distinctly heard some person jump from the window-sill down on the floor at the foot of the bed, and that, as the chamber door had continued bolted, he must still be in the room. The strictest search was made, but no one was discovered. " Various were the causes assigned in the neighborhood by the peasantry for these supernatural visitations, the history of which had now become rife all over that country side. Among other things it was said that Mr. Legge had always been a notorious evil liver, that he had held in his employ one Robin, as butler, a man with a remarkably deep-toned, hoarse, guttural voice, who was well known as a pander to all his master's vices and worst passions, and the unprincipled ex- ecutor of all his oppressive dealings with his tenantry. That 10 146 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. there was also a niece of Mr. Legge's resident with her uncle, and that dark rumors had been afloat of her having been at one time in the family way, though, as they said, ' nothing ' ever came of it,' and no child was ever known to have been born ; heavy suspicions, indeed, had been entertained on that score by the village gossips, which had gone so far that noth- ing but the wealth and influence of the squire had stifled in- quiry. What had eventually become of the young lady no one knew, but it was supposed she had gone abroad before her uncle's death. " Mrs. Ricketts and her friends endeavored to follow up these rumors, but the only thing they could arrive at with any degree of certainty was what they learned from an aged man, a carpenter, who declared that many years ago he had been sent for to the Hall, and had been taken by Robin up into one of the bedrooms, where, by his direction, he had cut out a portion of one of the planks, and also part of the joist be- low ; upon which the butler had brought a box, which he said contained valuable title deeds that his master wished to have placed in security, and having put it into the cavity ordered him to nail down the plank as before. This, he said, he had done, and could easily point out the place. " Mrs. Ricketts ordered the man to be conducted up-stairs, when he at once fixed on the door of her own sleeping apart- ment, saying, that, though it was a good many years ago, he was certain that was the room. On being introduced, he looked about for an instant, and then pointed out a part of the floor where there was evidently a separation in the plank, and which Mrs. Ricketts declared was the precise spot, as near as she could have described it, where the supposed intruder had alighted on his jump from the window. " The board was immediately taken up ; the joist below was found to be half sawn through, and the upper portion re- moved, precisely as the carpenter had described it ; the cavity, however, was empty, and the box, if box there had been, must have been removed at some previous opportunity. After this investigation which ended in nothing, the noises and the whis- M/tS. RICKETTS 1 GHOST STORY. 147 perings, through never distinct, continued with but little di- minution in frequency, and proved sufficient to render the house exceedingly uncomfortable to its inmates. " Matters were in this state, when Captain Jervis, on his re- turn to England, made his appearance at New House, with his friend Colonel Luttrell, to pay a visit to his sister. He had already heard of her annoyance, by letter, and of her dis- inclination to take the step he recommended, of removing, from the fear of offending her husband, who was somewhat of a martinet at home, and would of course treat the whole story as a fable. Captain Jervis seemed himself very much inclined to look upon it at first in the same light, or rather to consider it as a trick for he had no doubt of his sister's veracity and a trick which he was determined to find out. " With this view, the Colonel and himself, sending all the rest of the family to bed, sat up, each in a separate parlor on the ground-floor, with loaded pistols by their side, and all other appurtenances most approved, when people have the prospect before them of a long night to be spent in ghost- hunting. " The clock had stricken ' one,' when the sounds already mentioned, as of persons ripping up the floor above, were sim- ultaneously heard by both. Each rushed from the parlor he occupied, with a light in one hand and a cocked pistol in the other, and encountered his friend in the passage. At first, a slight altercation ensued between them, each accusing the other of a foolish attempt at a hoax ; but the colloquy was brought to an abrupt termination by the same sounds which each had heard separately being now renewed, and to all out- ward seeming, immediately above their heads. The whisper- ing, too, at this juncture, became audible to both. " The gentlemen rushed up-stairs, aroused their servants, and commenced a vigorous and immediate search throughout the whole premises ; nothing, however, was found more than on any former occasion of the same kind, with this exception, that in one of the rooms sounds were distinctly heard of a different character from any before noticed, and resembling, 148 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. as Mrs. Gwynne averred, ' the noise which would be produced by the rattling dry bones in a box.' They seemed to proceed from one of two presses which filled up a portion of the apart- ment ; the door was immediately burst open, and the piece of furniture knocked to pieces ; every search was made around, and even in the wall to which it had adjoined ; but still, as heretofore, all investigation was fruitless. Captain Jervis, how- ever, at once took upon himself the responsibility of removing his sister and her family to a farm-house in the same parish, where they remained till Mr. Ricketts' return. "That part of the county of Hants being much the resort of smugglers, an attempt has been made to account for these events by attributing them to their agency, aided by the col- lusion of the servants. The latter part of the supposition could not be true, the whole household having been so fre- quently changed. Even Mrs. Ricketts' favorite maid had at last, most reluctantly, abandoned her ; besides which Mrs. R. had, throughout the whole business, kept a diary of the trans- action, which she had regularly caused all the domestics, as they left her service, to sign, in attestation of its truth, as far as their own personal experience had qualified them so to do. Mrs. Gwynne herself, as well as a few other visitors, had done the same, and this diary coming into the hands of her daughter at her mother's decease, had been in the same way transmitted to the granddaughter, in whose possession it now is. " It remains to be added, that with Lord St. Vincent the sub- ject was a very sore one to the day of his death ; and any allu- sion to it always brought on a fit of ill-humor, and a rebuke to him who ventured to make it. The house has been since, I believe, pulled down, but it does not appear that anything has occurred to throw any light on the mystery, or to strengthen or refute the suspicions which the good folks in the neighbor- hood entertained of the crime of Mr. Legge, and the unrest which his spirit, and those of his supposed coadjutor and victim, had experienced from the date of his delinquency. " Mrs. Hughes expressed her doubt as to the accuracy of the name of the mansion in which all these strange occurrences MRS. RICKETTS' GHOST STORY. 149 took place, but of the fact she was positive. The way in which she first became acquainted with them was as follows : Mrs. Gwynne, being a visitor at her mother's house, was about to relate the story, when she was checked by the hostess, who requested her to wait till Mary Anne (Mrs. Hughes), at that time a child, was gone to bed. This so excited the girl's cu- riosity, that she contrived to hide herself behind the curtains of the room till the ' ghost story ' was told." According to another version which was given by an elderly lady named Hoy, to Lady Douglas, fronr whom I heard it, the scene of these strange events was Marwell Hall, a lonely man- sion situated between Bishopstoke and Winchester. The house had been the residence of Jane Seymour, and prepara- tions for her marriage with Henry are said to have been going on within its walls during the very day appointed for the ex- ecution of the hapless Anne Boleyn. Miss Hoy maintained that it was no other than the ghost of the unfeeling Queen Jane who used to disturb the inmates, and whose uncomfort- able habits led eventually to the destruction of her former abode. For the old lady went on to say that Captain Jervis, having watched in the haunted room alone one night, during which he was heard to fire a couple of pistol shots, appeared next morning with a grave and troubled countenance ; that he positively refused to answer any questions as to what had taken place, but at once sought an interview with the landlord, and in consequence of the communication made to him, but withheld from all others, the house was shortly after demol- ished, and a modern habitation erected in its place. It is obvious that these two versions may be partially reconciled on the very probable supposition that it is the present building which is known as the " New House," and that it has been con- founded by Mrs. Hughes with the original Marwell Hall. Of course considerable difference of opinion must continue to exist respecting the identity of the ghost, unless, indeed, it should be allowed that the two, like rival tragedians engaged at the same theatre, used to perform on alternate nights. I5O RICJIARD If ARRIS HARHAM. PICKLED COCKLES. " A certain notable housewife he [Cannon] used to say had observed that her stock of pickled cockles was running remarkably low, and she spoke to the cook in consequence, who alone had access to them. The cook had noticed the same serious deficiency : ' she could n't tell how, but they cer- tainly ^/disappeared much too fast ! ' A degree of coolness, approaching to estrangement, ensued between these worthy individuals, which the rapid consumption of the pickled cockles by no means contributed to remove. The lady became more distant than ever, spoke pointedly and before company of ' some people's unaccountable partiality to pickled cockles,' etc. The cook's character was at stake : unwilling to give warning, with such an imputation upon her self-denial, not to say honesty, she, nevertheless, felt that all confidence between her mistress and herself was at an end. " One day, the jar containing the evanescent condiment being placed as usual on the dresser, while she was busily engaged in basting a joint before the fire, she happened to turn suddenly round, and beheld, to her great indignation, a favorite magpie, remarkable for his conversational powers and general intelligence, perched by its side, and dipping his beajc down the open neck with every symptom of gratification. The mystery was explained the thief detected ! Grasping the ladle of scalding grease which she held in her hand, the exas- perated lady dashed the whole contents over the hapless pet, accompanied by the exclamation, " ' Oh, d mz,you 've been at the pickled cockles, have ye ? ' " Poor Mag, of course, was dreadfully burnt ; most of his feathers came off, leaving his little round pate, which had caught the principal part of the volley, entirely bare. The poor bird moped about, lost all his spirit, and never spoke for a whole year. " At length, when he had pretty well recovered and was beginning to chatter again, a gentleman called at the house, who, on taking off his hat, discovered a very bald head ! The POETICAL EPISTLE TO DR. HUME. 151 magpie, who happened to be in the room, appeared evidently struck by the circumstance : his reminiscences were at once powerfully excited by the naked appearance of the gentleman's skull. Hopping upon the back of his chair, and looking him hastily over, he suddenly exclaimed in the ear of the as- tounded visitor, " ' Oh, d me, you 'vt been at the pickled cockles, have ye?'" GEAME FEATHERS. " Mr. Wood, the conchologist, once told me a story, which I think carries friendly consolation and good offices in ex- tremis to even a higher pitch. , " He was once a surgeon at Windham, in Kent, and said that, in the course of his practice, he had to pay what he con- sidered would be his last visit to an elderly laboring man on Adisham Downs. He had left him in the last stage of illness the day before, and was not surprised on calling again to find him dead, but did experience a little' astonishment at seeing the bed on which he had been lying now withdrawn from under the body, and placed in the middle of the floor. To his re- marks, the answer given by her who had officiated as nurse (?) was, " ' Dearee me, sir, you see there was partridge-feathers in the bed, and folks can't die upon geame feathers, nohow, and we thought as how he never would go, so we pulled the bed away, and then I just pinched his poor nose tight with one hand, and shut his mouth close with t' other, and, poor dear ! he went off like a lamb ! ' " POETICAL EPISTLE TO DR. HUME. On the ninth November of this year (1837), the Queen came in state to dine with the Lord Mayor at the annual banquet at Guildhall. Preparations on the most magnificent scale were made to receive her ; throughout the whole line of march scaf- foldings were erected, windows were fitted up, balconies thrown out, the most conspicuous positions being occupied by ladies in rich and varied raiment, all glorious to behold. Seats com- 152 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. manding a view of the procession were sold at extravagant prices, and were with difficulty to be procured on any terms. Mr. Barham's house in St. Paul's Church-yard was of course thronged with visitors, 1 and an invitation was conveyed in the following terms to his old friend Dr. Hume : TO DR. HUME. " ST. P. C Y., Novtmbtr 4, 1837- " Doctor dear! the Queen's a coining! All this ancient city round ; Scarce a place to squeeze one's thumb in, High or low, can now be found ; " So my spouse you '11 hardly thank her Thus in substance bids me say ' Bring your sweet self to an anchor, Doctor dear, with us that day t ' " If no haunch your palate tickles, If no turtle greet your eye, There '11 be cold roast beef and pickles, Ox-tail soup, and pigeon pie. " Fear not then the knaves who fleece men Johnny Raws, and country muffs I There 'II be lots of new policemen To control the rogues and roughs. " Doctor darling! think how grand is Such a sight ! the great Lord Ma/r Heading all the city dandies There on horseback takes the air ! " Chains and maces all attend, he Rides all glorious to be seen ; ' Lad o* wax ! ' great Heaven forfend he Don't get spilt before the Queen ! " Blue-coat boy* with classic speeches, From our windows you shall view 1 Among those present was Mr. Poole. At the dinner which followed the specta- cle one of the guest*, moved by enthusiasm and loyalty, to say nothing of champagne, roe to propose the health of the Queen. " We have heard to-day,'' he commenced, " many hurrahs" " Yes," interrupted Poole, " and we have seen to-day many hut' tart I " AN ACCOMPLISHED SWINDLER. 153 Their yellow stockings, yellow breeches, And ' long togs' of deepest blue. " Here the cutlers, there the nailers, Here the barber-surgeons stand, Goldsmiths here there merchant tailors, And in front the Coldstream Band! "Gas-lights, links, and flambeaux blazing, These will shame the noon-tide ray ; ' Night ! pooh ! stuff ! 't is quite amazing 1 Why 't is brighter far than day ! ' " But a scene so brilliant mocks all Power its beauties to declare ; Once beheld, poor Gye of Vauxhall Hangs himself in deep despair ! " Come then, Doctor, quit your shrubbery, Cock your castor o'er your ear ; Come and gaze, and taste the grubbery, Ah, now join us, Doctor dear! "R. H. B." AN ACCOMPLISHED SWINDLER. By the detection of an accomplished swindler Mr. Barham was the means of relieving a friend from a burden borne cheer- fully for some years. He (my father) received a note one morning from the Bishop of begging him to call as soon as possible, the writer being about to leave town in a few hours. The Bishop was found immersed in business, and he hastily explained the cause of the summons he had sent. " I have been in the habit," he said, "of paying quarterly a small sum to the relict of a deceased clergyman. He was a worthless fellow enough, and on his death his widow and daugh- ter were left without a farthing and without a friend. They called upon me, and I was much struck by their ladylike and re- fined manners, by their grief and by their poverty, evidences of which were painfully conspicuous. I promised some periodical assistance, and I have never failed to send it punctually till now, when I find to my horror that I have permitted the lapse of nearly a week. Now I want you to call and explain to these poor people the cause of my neglect, which is illness, and ex- 154 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. press my sorrow at any inconvenience it may have caused them. At the same time you can hand them my usual contri- bution, and should their circumstances seem to require it, you may increase it according to your discretion." In the course of that afternoon Mr. Barham called at a house in Salisbury Street, Strand. Was Mrs. at home ? It appeared, after a prolonged and audible discussion carried on above, that Mrs. was at home ; would the gentleman " leave his business ? " The gentleman would with pleasure leave his business with the person whom it concerned. Well, he could walk up-stairs " first floor, front." And up-stairs accordingly he walked. On entering the drawing-room he found it very showily, if not handsomely furnished ; as much or more might be said of the two ladies who occupied it. One, the elder, was reclining in an arm-chair, and comforting hcrself-in her bereavement with a tumbler of what smelt suspiciously like grog hot ! The younger, somewhat more decolletee than was quite suitable to the time of day, or indeed to any time of day, was dressed in great splendor, and was warbling her woes to a pianoforte accompaniment. The entrance of the intruder, for such he at once perceived himself to be, produced a de- cided effect upon both. The younger swung gracefully around upon her music stool and faced him ; the elder arose, and in an angry tone demanded whom he was and what he wanted. He was a friend of the Bishop of , and what he wanted was to apologize for mistaking the ladies before him for Mrs. and Miss . " That 's my name, and that 's my daughter," was the reply. " Indeed ! " observed Mr. Barham, "then, Madam, the mis- take is the Bishop's, and not mine." Upon this the lady, who was a trifle thick of speech, and had seemingly required a good deal of stimulating to raise her spirits, began to use language which would rather have astonished his lordship if he could have heard and comprehended it. But the daughter interposed and begged politely to know the object of the visit. " My object, Madam, was to convey to your mother a com- munication from the Bishop of , but it is one which I now A SONG OF SIXPENCE. 1 5 5 feel to be so completely out of place that I must ask you to apply for it to his lordship in person, on his return from the country if you think Jit.'''' So saying, Mr. Barham retreated as speedily as possible from the house, and no more was ever heard, so far as I am aware, of the distressing case he had left there unrelieved. A SONG OF SIXPENCE. " Diary : October, 1838. The following is a doggerel ver- sification of a correspondence between M B , the celebrated singer and surgeon, and the committee of the Gar- rick Club. The question arose about the charge of ' sixpence for the table ' always added to the bill when refreshments are ordered between the hours of four and nine. Mr. B angrily insisted on this sum being deducted, as at a quarter before eight he had ordered supper and not dinner. The stanzas are almost literal versions of the original letters put into rhyme. A SONG OF SIXPENCE. No. I. " Mr. B sends his bill back won't pay it and begs To inform the Committee they're regular ' legs,' And have charged him too much for his ham and his eggs! " No. II. "Dear Sir, The Committee direct me to say That the bill's quite correct which was sent you to day ; It was not eight o'clock when you sat down to dine, And we charge for the table from four until nine. They have not the least wish your remonstrance to stifle, But you 're wrong and they '11 thank you to pay that 'ere trifle ! I am further desired to inform Mr. B. That, in calling them ' legs,' he makes rather too free. J. W." No. III. " You may tell that banditti, the Committee, Not a chop-house would charge me so much in the City. "!' was no dinner at all ; I meant only to sup ; If you say that I dined, you 're a lying old pup ! You may tell the Committee again and I say it, They are ' legs ' and sixpence ! I 'm hanged if I pay it. W B." 156 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. No. IV. " Sir, Once more the Committee direct me to state, When you sat down to dinner it had not struck eight ; When you come to consider what ' table ' means here Cloth, napkin, wax, vinegar, mustard, oil, beer, Pepper, pickles, and bread at discretion it 's.clear The additional sixpence can never be dear! So you 'd better fork out, sir, at once ; if you won't They must really enforce it and blessed if they don't I J. W." No. V. " Take the sixpence, you thieves I I say still it 's a chouse ; Your threat to ' enforce ' I don' t value one And hang me if I ever :et foot in your house! W. B." No. VI. " Sir, Since writing my last I have asked the advice Of my friends Mr. Bacon and Governor Price, And the Governor says ' he '11 be sir ' if I 'm Not a jackass for writing what I thought sublime ; ' It 's just what the fellows wanted ; you'd better Get somebody else, sir, to write you a letter Withdrawing your own.' So I have, and I '11 thank The Committee to mark that this comes by a frank.'' No. VII. " Mr. Winston presents his best compliments begs To inform Mr. B he is somewhat mistaken If, having got into his scrape by his eggs, He thinks to get out of it now by his Bacon I " THE QUEEN OF THE BELGIANS. " What think you of a visit from, and confabulation with, the Queen of the Belgians ! On Saturday, I was in the li- brary at St. Paul's, my ' custom always in an afternoon,' with a bookbinder's 'prentice and a printer's devil, looking out fifty dilapidated folios for rebinding ; I had on a coat which, from a foolish prejudice in the multitude against patched elbows, I wear nowhere else, my hands and face encrusted with the dust of years, and wanting only the shovel I had the brush to sit for the portrait of a respectable master chimney- sweeper, when the door opened, and in walked the Cap of Maintenance bearing the sword of, and followed by the Lord Mayor in full fig, with the prettiest and liveliest little French- MONCRIEF, THE DRAMATIST. 157 woman leaning upon his arm. Nobody could get at the ' Lions ' but myself ; I was fairly in for it, and was thus presented in the most rechercht, if not the most expensive, court dress that I will venture to say the eyes of royalty were ever greeted withal. Heureusement pour mot, she spoke ex- cellent English, however, and rattled on with a succession of questions, which I answered as best I might. They were sensible, however, showed some acquaintance with literature, and a very good knowledge of dates. " My gaucherie afforded her one opportunity of displaying her acquaintance with chronology which she did not miss. The date of a MS. was the question ; I unthinkingly re- ferred to that of the Battle of Agincortrt an allusion which a courtier would have shunned as a rock ahead, considering the figure an Orleans cut in that fight. It was not quite so bad certainly as the gentleman telling Prince Eugene that ' a certain event took place in the year the Countess of Soissons (his mother) poisoned her husband,' but it was enough to have made poor Colonel Dalton faint. She relieved me, how- ever, in an instant by saying, ' Ah ! 1415,' while George C , who was with her, coolly asked ' when it was printed? ' She turned to him briskly, and said at once, ' You see it is a man- uscript,' which satisfied the gentleman of the bedchamber, and saved my reply." MONCRIEF, THE DRAMATIST. " October 17, 1839. Went with W. Harrison Ainsworth to call on Mr. Moncrief, author of the forthcoming version of 'Jack Sheppard' for the Victoria Theatre. Moncrief was quite blind, but remarkably cheerful. He gave us in detail the outline of the plot as he had arranged it, all except the conclusion, which had not as yet been published in the novel, but which Ainsworth promised to send him. Moncrief, in a very extraordinary manner, went through what he had done, without having occasion to refer to any book or person, sing- ing the songs introduced, and reciting all the material points of the dialogue. He adverted to his literary controversy with 158 K 1C HARD HARRIS BARHAM. Charles Dickens, respecting the dramatic version of ' Nicho- las Nickleby,' which he declared he would never have written, had Dickens sent him a note to say it would be disagreeable to him." THE SENTIMENTAL CHILD. " It reminded me of what passed between myself and Dr. Wilmot's little daughter, many years ago ; I accompanied the little body, a fine, intelligent, and, as I thought, too senti- mental child of nine years old, out into the poultry yard, to look at her ' dear little chicks,' during the awkward half-hour before dinner. We were great friends ; and after introducing me to the 'gray hen who was cluck] and to the 'bantams,' and to the ' everlasting layers,' I was at length ushered to the pig- sty to look at her ' own dear little pig,' whom ' she loved so much.' All due commendation was of course lavished on my side upon such a pet ; and when we took leave of the little brute, whose eyes really seemed to look gratefully towards its too partial mistress, the young lady concluded her an revoir with 4 Bless you, dear little piggy ! how pretty you are ; and how nice you will be when we come to eat you ! ' It was im- possible to doubt the probability of the prophecy ; but how- ever I might revere her as a sage, the young lady sank to zero as a sentimentalist. After all this nouvelle Heloise was right perhaps, and only working out her great namesake's prob- lem, '" What/*r* we doat on, when \ isfifs we lovel ' " THE UNLUCKY PRESENT. An old gentleman, a merchant in Bush Lane, had an only daughter, possessed of the highest attractions, moral, per- sonal, and pecuniary ; she was engaged, and devotedly at- tached, to a young man in her own rank of life, one in every respect well worthy of her choice. All preliminaries were arranged, and the marriage, after two or three postponements, was fixed, " positively for the last time of marrying," to take place on Thursday, April 15, 18 . THE UNLUCKY PRESENT. 159 On the preceding Monday, the bridegroom elect (who was to have received ,10,000 down on his wedding-day, and a further sum of ,30,000 on his father-in-law's dying, as there was hope he soon would) had some little jealous squabbling with his intended at an evening party ; the " tiff " arose in consequence of his paying more attention than was thought justifiable to a young lady with sparkling eyes and inimitable ringlets. The gentleman retorted, and spoke slightingly of a certain cousin, whose waistcoat was the admiration of the as- sembly, and which, it was hinted darkly, had been embroid- ered by the fair hand of the heiress in question. He added, in conclusion, that it would be time enough for him to be schooled when they were married ; that (reader, pardon the unavoidable expression !) she was "putting on the breeches " a little too soon. After supper, both the lovers had become more cool ; iced champagne and cold chicken had done their work, and leave was taken by the bridegroom in posse, in terms kindly and affectionate, if not so enthusiastic as those which had previ- ously terminated their meetings. On the next morning, the swain thought with some remorse on the angry feeling he had exhibited, and the cutting sarcasm in which he had given it vent, and, as a part of his amende honorable, packed up with great care a magnificent satin dress, which he had previously bespoken for his beloved, and which had been sent home to him in the interval, and transmitted it to the lady, with a note to the following effect : " DEAREST * * *, I have been unable to close my eyes all night, in consequence of thinking on our foolish misunder- standing last evening. Pray, pardon me ; and, in token of your forgiveness, deign to accept the accompanying dress, and wear it for the sake of your ever affectionate * * * " Having written the note, he gave it to his shopman to de- liver with the parcel ; but as a pair of his nether garments happened, at the time, to stand in need of repairing, he availed himself of the opportunity offered by his servant having to I6O RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. pass the tailor's shop, in his way to Bush Lane, and desired him to leave them, packed in another parcel, on his road. The reader foresees the inevitable contretemps. Yes, the man made the fatal blunder ! consigned the satin robes to Mr. Snip, and left the note, together with the dilapidated habili- ment, at the residence of the lady. Her indignation, was neither to be described nor appeased. So exasperated was she, at what she considered a determined and deliberate affront, that when her admirer called she ordered the door to be closed in his face, refused to listen to any explanation, and resolutely broke off the match. Before many weeks had elapsed, means were found to make her acquainted with the history of the objectionable present, but she, nevertheless, ad- hered firmly to her resolve, deeply lamenting the misadvent- ure, but determined not to let the burden of the ridicule rest upon her. ANECDOTES. "Diary : July, 1842. The Bishop of London mentioned that at the recent grand meeting at Cambridge, at which the Duke of Cambridge attended, he (the Bishop) was appointed to preach, and had no sooner commenced with ' Let us pray,' than his Royal Highness rose up in the pew below, and ex- claimed with great fervor, ' Certainly, by all means.' The Duke used invariably to read aloud all the service, including the Absolution ; and when the King of Prussia visited St. Paul's, I saw him put that potentate out sadly by his over- officiousness in finding the place for him in the prayer-book. All had been properly marked, but his Royal Highness took the volume from him, began turning it over, and finally left his Majesty in much greater mystification than he found him. He appears to be a really devout man, but is absent and flighty. " Tate told us a story of Mr. Ottley, a great connoisseur in paintings and articles of virtu, whom I once met at his house now dead. Ottley, while at Rome, when all the treasures of art were yet contained within its limits, and long before its spoliation by the French, was much bothered by foolish peo- ple, who inquired of him whether Raphael or Titian or Cor- FACETIAE. l6l regio, etc., was the best painter, to whom he used to reply by a story : " There was an old woman, living at Naples, very devout, who went to her confessor on a case of conscience. Her ob- ject was to learn whether San Gennaro or the Virgin Mary was the greater Saint. " ' Why, daughter,' said the padre, ' that is a very nice ques- tion, and perhaps it might puzzle the Holy Father himself to decide upon it. However, for your comfort it may perhaps be satisfactory to know that both of them were Apostles ! ' " I mentioned that, examining one of the Sunday-school boys at Addington, I asked him what a prophet was. He did not know. " ' If I were to tell you what would happen to you this day twelve-month, and it should come to pass, what would you call me then, my little man ? ' " ' A fortune-teller, sir,' said the boy. "There was an end of the examination for that day." FACETIAE. "Diary : May, 1843. Dinner of the Sons of the Clergy at Merchant Tailors' Hall. The Archbishop, a nervous man [Dr. Howley], by a ludicrous lapsus lingua gave as a toast, instead of ' Prosperity to the Merchant Tailors' Company,' ' Prosperity to the Merchant Company's Tailor ! ' " Dr. Taylor read to me the following extract from a letter just addressed to him by Archbishop Whately : ' O'Connell has spoilt the dog. The story is of a traveller, who, finding himself and his dog in a wild country and destitute of provis- ions, cut off his dog's tail and boiled it for his own supper, giving the " dog the bone." ' "Abingdon, a gentleman of property, first an amateur and afterwards a professional actor, and manager of the Southamp- ton Theatre, told me that once, when he was playing Hamlet there, Rosencrantz, who ought to say, ' My lord, you once did love me,' forgot his part and failed in giving the cue, till the prompter, it 1 62 KICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. seeing Hamlet could not go on for the want of it, stepped for- ward and said ' My lord, you once did love Ms gentleman /' This enabled Abingdon to reply 1 And do still by these pickers and stealers.' Like most good-natured people who do good-natured things, the prompter got hissed by the audience for having kept the stage so long in waiting. I was terribly abused by the mob once for going to bury a corpse which my neighbor H had forgotten, after it had been detained by his carelessness more than an hour in the church-yard." SYDNEY SMITH'S NOVEL. "Diary: December 2, 1843. Dined at Charles Dickens's. Present Sydney Smith, my wife, Serjeant Talfourd, Albany Fonblanque, Miss Eley, Rev. Taggart, Mrs. Talfourd, Maclise, Mr. Forster, Sam Rogers, etc. Sydney Smith gave an account of Colburn's calling upon him with an introduction from Bulwer. The bibliopole, he said, opened with a condo- lence, delicately conveyed, on his recent losses in American securities, and then proposed, by way of repairing them, the production of a novel in three volumes, for which he should be most happy to treat on liberal terms. '"Well, sir,' said Mr. Smith, after some seeming considera- tion, ' if I do so, I can't travel out of my own line ne sutor ultra crepidam, you know I must have an archdeacon for my hero, to fall in love with the pew-opener, with the clerk for a confidant tyrannical interference of the church-wardens clandestine correspondence concealed under the hassocks appeal to the parishioners, etc., etc.' " ' With that, sir,' said Mr. Colburn, ' I would not presume to interfere ; I would leave it all entirely to your own inventive genius.' " ' Well, sir,' returned the canon, with urbanity, ' I am not prepared to come to terms at present ; but if ever I do under- take such a work, you shall certainly have the refusal.' " PARSON O'BEIRNE'S SERMON. 163 DUKE OF SUSSEX AND MR. OFFOR. For some years during the latter portion of his life my father devoted much of his leisure, not only to the prosecu- tion of genealogical and antiquarian inquiries, to which he had always been addicted, but also to the acquiring a knowl- edge of the various editions of the Bible. His means were not sufficiently ample to enable him to form a collection of the rarer copies, but he made himself well acquainted with those extant, and expended a great deal of time and industry, to the severe injury of his eyesight, in preparing fac-similes of the re- markable passages and wood-cuts by which the various trans- lations are distinguished. In this pursuit he received consid- erable assistance from Mr. George Offor, whose library was especially rich in specimens of early typography. Of these the choicest were very wisely kept behind a screen of brass- work, securely locked, a circumstance which Mr. Offor used to say immediately attracted the notice of the Duke of Sus- sex, when his Royal Highness honored him with a visit. " Ah ! I see," said the Duke, " you lock up your best books very necessary, very proper no collector is to be trusted ; they are all thieves, every one of them ! " " I presume, sir," replied Mr. Offor, with a low bow, " I might suggest an exception ? " " You mean me ? Oh ! you 're quite mistaken I could n't resist the temptation, if it came in my way, better than any one else." PARSON O'BEIRNE'S SERMON. "Diary: May n, 1844. Dined at Sir Thomas Wilde's. Among the company Sir John Hobhouse, Mr. and Lady Anne Welby, Mr. Horsman, Tom Duncombe, etc. Hob- house told a story of the Rev. commonly called ' Parson ' O'Beirne, which he had from old Richard Brinsley Sheridan. Sheridan had been dining with O'Beirne, and, it being Satur- day, the host was anxious to bring the sitting to an earlier termination than usual, as he had no sermon ready for next day. Sheridan pleaded hard for another bottle. 164 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. "'Then you must write a sermon for me,' was O'Beirne's answer, which Sheridan at once undertook to do. There was a certain Mr. , a neighboring squire, who was proverbial for grinding the poor, and had recently prosecuted some of the laborers in the parish for stealing turnips. Sheridan's sermon, which, true to his word, he produced in the morning, was a regular attack upon this gentleman. It was filled with all sorts of pretended quotations from St. Paul and the Fa- thers, sentences denouncing illiberality, tyranny, and oppres- sion of the poor, some of them referring particularly to the especial sinfulness of prosecutions for stealing turnips. Mr. O'Beirne, who had no time to read over the composition be- fore morning prayers, commenced his discourse and went on with it till he fairly drove the indignant squire out of the church. The latter, indeed, was so savage at the personal- ities, that he made a formal complaint to the bishop of the diocese. " ' And how did the matter end ? ' asked Hobhouse. " ' Oh, just as such a thing should end,' said Sheridan ; ' O'Beirne got a better living ! ' "* 1 The Rev. Thomas Lewis O'Beirne, afterwards Bishop of Meath, is evidently the person here referred to. A somewhat more probable version of the story is given in Sluridaniana. It is there stated that Mr. O'Beirne, having arrived at Sheridan's house, near Osterley, was requested to preach on the following Sunday, but, having no sermon, accepted Sheridan's offer to provide one. Next morning Mr. O'Beirne found the manuscript by his bedside, the subject of the discourse being the " Abuse of Riches." Having read it over, and corrected some theological errors (such as "it is easier for a camel," as Moses says, etc.), he delivered the sermon in his most impressive style, much to the delight of his own party, and to the satisfac- tion, as he unsuspectingly flattered himself, of all the rest of the congregation, among whom was Mr. Sheridan's wealthy neighbor, Mr. C . Some months afterwards, however, Mr. O'Beirne perceived that the family of Mr. C , with whom he h.id been previously intimate, treated him with marked coldness, and, on his expressii g some innocent wonder at the circumstance, was at length informed, to his dismay, by General Burgoyne, that the sermon which Sheridan had written for him was throughout a personal attack upon Mr. C , who had at that time rendered him- self very unpopular in the neighborhood by some harsh conduct to the poor, and to whom every one in the church, except the unconscious preacher, applied almost every sentence of the sermon. Sheridaniana. A NOBLEMAN WHO WOULD SELL ANYTHING. 165 A NOBLEMAN WHO WOULD SELL ANYTHING. " On our way to Dover Sir W. Betham told us a story of Lord M , a gentleman who would sell anything, even the commissions in the militia regiment he commanded, and when it was objected to him replied that he did it ' to assimilate his regiment as much as possible to the line, which was in general orders.' A pew in a parish church near his family property was supposed to belong to him, and the building having been repaired, three old ladies were anxious to possess what it is scarcely necessary to say was of little use to his lordship. One of them waited on him at the barracks, and proposed purchase. " ' Oh, bother, Ma'am, divil a pew has my Lord M in any such place.' " ' Ah then and indeed it 's your lordship's own, and sure everybody says so.' " ' Everybody lies, sure but what is it, ma'am, ye '11 be giving for the pew ? ' " After a little hesitation and fencing, the lady offered to give twenty pounds for the pew rather than suffer Mrs. Ma- grath to take her place in it. " ' Twenty pounds ! is it twenty pounds ! twenty pounds rather than be bragged by Mrs. Magrath ! Sure it 's forty pounds ye mane Oh, it 's a beautiful pew ! ' " The old lady stood out for twenty, but his lordship was firm, and at last she agreed to give the sum demanded rather than be ' bragged ' by Molly Magrath. His lordship there- fore made over his right and title to the pew in something like the following words : ' Lord M agrees to sell to Mrs. Bridget Maloney all his right and title, if he has any, to a pew in the parish church of for value this day received.' " The lady had scarcely retired when another was announced on the same errand, who succeeded in making the same pur- chase on rather reduced terms, as eventually did also a third. On the following Sunday the case of title was of course warmly gone into, all the three parties claiming possession. After some 1 66 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. pains had been taken in the inquiry, the dispute was decided in favor of a fourth claimant, whose uncle had bought the pew years before of Lord M 's father. This decision brought all the three purchasers back to the barracks in the hope of getting their money again, but ' any restitution ' formed no part of Lord M 's politics. " ' Sure he had sold them the pew if he had got one, and if he had not how could he help it ! ' " ' But you must give us our money back, my lord, anyhow.' " ' Aisy, aisy ! how will I do that, I 'd be proud to know, when it 's all spent and gone every farthing of it ? ' " ' But if you don't we shall tell everybody, and then what becomes of my Lord M 's character ? ' " ' Oh, tell away and welcome ; the character 's spent and gone too, and long before, for the matter of that.' And so the matter terminated." SCRAPS. "No date. Dined at the Adolphuses : met there a Mr. or Doctor Vicesimus Knox, who talked away famously and was very funny. Told us of a story of a Mr. , and how he thought the word ' clause ' of an Act of Parliament was the plural number, and asked him, the said Vicesimus, which claw of the Act he was speaking of. " Chief Justice Bushe was dining with the late Duke of Richmond, when Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, at Sir Wheeler Cuff's. On their entertainer getting drunk and falling from his chair, the Duke good-naturedly endeavored to lift him up, when Bushe exclaimed, ' How, your Grace ! you, an Orange- man and a Protestant, assist in elevating the host ! ' Told to me by Dr. Hume." " Serjeant Murphy observing part of the Bench (including Sir C. Williams) leaving the court early, while two only re- mained to finish the causes, said, loud enough to be heard by all present, ' As a papist, I am not of course permitted to know much of Scripture, or I should say, there is on one side Ex- odus and on the other Judges." SCRAPS. 167 " When a certain Mr. , of the Temple, was expelled from that Society by the Benchers for conduct unbecoming a gentleman, Thesiger, who is a very kind-hearted man, was much affected by the situation of his wife and children, who would necessarily be ruined by the decision, and burst into tears. " ' Well,' said he afterwards to Rose, who was then Judge of the Court of Review, ' I should never do for a Criminal Judge, and after the way in which I have exposed my weak- ness to-day, you will agree with me.' 4< ' Why, yes,' said Rose, ' I think you would make an in- different Judge, but then, you know, you would make an un- commonly good Cryer.' " " Sydney Smith, speaking of his being shampooed at Ma- homet's Baths at Brighton in 1840, said they 'squeezed enough out of him to make a lean curate.' " " Hearing Shutte's little girl give vent to a prolonged ' Oh ! ' at the sight of a dahlia, he (Sydney Smith) said ' it was worth a page of eulogy.' " "In Brazil, an opinion prevails that whoever has been bitten by a boa-constrictor has nothing to fear from any other snake. What a happy illustration of a man who has undergone a blackguarding from O'Connell ! " The following was an early hoax upon a Canterbury paper, and was freely copied by the provincial press : " fact for the Naturalist. A terrier dog in Romney Marsh, having been desperately maltreated and bitten by a savage mastiff, ran off nine miles to the house of Mr. Strick- land, a justice of the peace, where he had often before been with his master, who was a parish constable ; he got into the library, jumped upon Mr. Strickland's table, seized a blank as- sault warrant in his jaws, and bolted with it ; he then ran back to his master with the instrument in his mouth, and wagging his tail, did all in his power to induce the latter to follow him and take his assailant into custody. It cannot, however, fail to be remarked, how the omission to obtain a signature to the paper serves to confirm the fact, that the sagacity of the most l68 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. intelligent brute never passes that mysterious line which in- variably separates instinct from reason." ' Judge Afaule. A young barrister pleading before Judge Maule, described an attorney's bill as ' a diabolical one.' ' That may be,' said the Judge, ' but the devil must have his due. Gentlemen of the jury, you will find for the plaintiff.' " Seeing Richard Price at the Garrick with half a pint of port, he accused him of studying " Winer's abridgment." " When George IV. was at Lord Lothian's during his visit to Scotland, the youngest scion of the family was a little im- pudent, spoiled boy in petticoats, who had got a way of calling everybody ' you old fat goose.' The King inquiring as to the number of her ladyship's children, was informed of course, and also of course desired to see them all. This little urchin, therefore, whom they had intended to keep out of f he way, was perforce exhibited, when his father seeing the twinkle in his eye and the curl of his lip which betokened the forthcoming expression, caught him up in his arms, while the mother sat in agony, and bore him out of the room just in time to prevent the explosion." " Ensign White of the Forty-fourth, the regiment that was so cut up in India, told me that on the march to Scinde, they used to encourage private theatricals among the soldiers to keep them out of mischief. On one occasion, when Richard III. was the play, the Catesby of the evening (a worthy and gallant corporal) thus addressed his sovereign : " ' 'T is I, my lord, the early village cock Has been crowing away this half hour, Your friends are up and buckle on their armor And why ain't you a buckling on o* yourn?' " A FRENCHMAN'S CRITICISM. " Wallaces account of French criticism. When in Amer- ica, Mr. Wallack became associated with a French actor, a great admirer of Shakespeare, but who wished to become more familiarized with his beauties. Wallack being an in- different French scholar, it was agreed that instruction should MACREADY IN AMERICA. 169 be mutual ; that the Frenchman should give lessons in his own language, which Wallack should return by lending his assistance towards producing a more perfect understanding, on the part of his tutor, of the bard who ' was not for an age but for all time.' " ' Ah ! mafoi, dat is eet, Racine is good, Corneille is good, but Mons. Shakespeare he is de bard of all time, of nature, of what you call common sense so everybody say.' " Wallack proposed, by way of commencement, that his new friend, who knew enough of English to read, though not to relish his author, should go over attentively and make him- self master of the text of a play, which his preceptor should afterwards read over again with him, explaining difficulties and expounding beauties. ' Macbeth ' was selected, but they did not get beyond the first scene. " ' Mons. Vallake, you have told me dat Shakespeare is de poet of nature and common sense ; good ! now vat is dis ? Here is his play open Macbess yes ! good, very good well, here is tree old old vat you call veetch, vid de broom and no close on at all yes! upon the blasted heath good ! von veetch say to de oder veetch, ' ven shall ve tree meet agen ? ' De other veetch she say " in tondare ! " de other she say ''in lightning ! " and she say to dem herself again " in rain ! " Eh bien ! now dis is not nature ! dis is not common sense ! Oh, no ! De tree old veetch shall nevare go out to meet again upon de blasted heath with no close on in tondare, lightning, and in rain. Ah no ! It is not common sense ! mafoi, dey stay at home ! aha ! ' " Of course there was no possibility of proceeding with such a critic, and the arrangement ceased." MACREADY IN AMERICA. "Diary: December 5, 1844. Dined with Charles Dickens, Stanfield, Maclise, and Albany Fonblanque at Forster's. Dickens read with remarkable effect his Christmas story, 'The Chimes,' from the proofs. Anecdote told of Macready at New Orleans looking at a paper in the reading-room, when a stranger 1 70 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. put his arm across his (Macready's) neck, and, leaning on his shoulder, asked if he knew Colonel Johnson ? " Macready, shrinking from the familiarity, replied coldly enough, ' No, sir, I do not.' " ' Well I guess now he 'd like to know you.' " ' Possibly, sir.' " ' Well now, Colonel Johnson, walk this way ; I calculate this is Mr. Macready, the British actor.' " ' And pray who are you, sir ? ' demanded Macready. "'Me? Oh, I guess I'm Major Hitchins, I am. What, you 're ryled a leetle grain, are you ? You '11 have to get over that if you mean to progress in this great country, sir.' Free and enlightened society this, at any rate ! " BARHAM'S SURGEON. " And now as to our state here, it is mended, and I would fain hope mending, but very, very slowly. I am still not al- lowed nor if I were could I avail myself of the permission to answer, except in a whisper, and that only to ask for what I want, and answer medical inquiries. Luckily I have assigned to me one of the greatest chatterboxes of a surgeon, to take the poking and blistering department of my treatment upon him, that can well be imagined. If in the multitude of counselors there be wisdom, in that of apothecaries there is jaw, and with such a one as my adviser possesses, Samson might have laid waste all Mesopotamia, let alone Philistia. He has the art of saying nothing in a cascade of language comparable only to that ' almighty water privilege,' Niagara, and were I in better spirits would delight instead of boring me. Gait's ' wearif u' woman ' was but a type of him. " ' Well, sir, how are we to day better, eh ! well, sir, go on with the iodine ? does it act ? ' " Why that is what I wanted to ask, how do you mean it to act ? as a sudorific ? ' " ' Diaphoretic we say, not but sudorific will do ; it comes from siH/n. but we seldom now say sudorific ; but, sir, the iodine, does it act ? ' BARHAM'S SURGEON. \Jl " ' That is what I want to know ; how do you mean it to act, on the throat or ' " ' Act ? iodine ? on the throat ? why the throat, sir, is very singularly constructed very singularly; it's beautiful, the mechanism of the throat ! If it gets out of order now yours, sir, is out of order, and we have been giving you iodine for Mr. agrees with me that iodine is an excellent medicine, and what I want to know is, does it begin to produce any effect ? " " ' Why that is what I want to know, and therefore I ask what effect is it intended to produce, is it to act on ' " ' What effect ? my dear sir, there are few medicines now in better repute than iodine ; we give it in many cases dropsy, sometimes not that yours is dropsy ; you have nothing dropsical about you ; your complaint is an affection of the throat, and we have been giving iodine in your case you have had it now three days twice a day. Do you take it reg- ularly twice a day ? ' " ' I take what you send me twice a day, and you tell me it is iodine, but' " ' And does it begin to produce its effect ; does it act ? ' " ' Why that 's what I 'm asking you now is it intended to act as a sedative, or' " ' A sedative ? what, is your cough more troublesome ? We give sedatives sometimes for troublesome coughs, and then in nervous complaints, but then congestion is a thing to be avoided, not that I see any symptoms of congestion in your case ; yours is an affection of the throat, and so we give you iodine, and as we are a little particular in proportioning our doses, I want to ascertain whether what you have been taking acts ? ' "Oh dear, oh dear ! never were two philosophers more deeply engaged in pursuing the same inquiry, each endeavoring to ex- tract information out of the other. And then such lectures on the ' anatomy of the parts,' ' the beautiful mechanism, etc.' ! that I, who never yet could comprehend the mechanism of a mousetrap, and hardly that of a poacher's wire, am just in the position of a blind man listening to a discourse on colors, and yet in the end completely worked up into a something derived 172 RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. from sudo. Heaven knows I am at this moment as innocent of any knowledge of the mode of operation of ' iodine ' as a 'blessed babe,' though taking 'two tablespoonfuls a day ' with this tea-spoonful of learning, and only hope for your sake, as well as my own reputation for good manners, that it is in no un- seemly one." THE BULLETIN. 9 DOWRY SQUARE, HOT WELLS, May 29, i?45- Hark ! the doctors come again, Knock and enter doctors twain Dr. Keeler, Dr. Blane : " Well, sir, how Go matters now ? Please your tongue put out again ! " Meanwhile, t' other side the bed, Doctor Keeler Is a feeler Of my wrist, and shakes his head : " Rather low, we're rather low! " (Deuce is in 't, an' 't were not so 1 Arrowroot, and toast-and-water, Being all my nursing daughter, By their order, now allows me ; If I hint at more she rows me, Or at best will let me soak a Crust of bread in tapioca.) " Cool and moist though, let me see Seventy-two, or seventy-three, Seventy-four, perhaps, or so ; Rather low, we re rather low ! Now, what sort of night, sir, eh ? Did you take the mixture, pray ? Iodine and anodyne, Ipecacuanha wine, And the draught and pills at nine ? " PATIENT (loquitur). " Coughing, doctor, coughing, sneezing, Wheezing, teasing, most unpleasing. Till at length I , by degrees, in- . Duced ' Tired nature's sweet restorer,' Sleep, to caM her mantle o'er her Poor unfortunate adorer, And became at last a snorer. Iodine and anodyne, Ipecacuanha wine, THE BULLETIN. 173 Nor the draughts did I decline ; But those horrid pills at nine ! Those I did not try to swallow, Doctor, they 'd have beat me hollow. I as soon Could gulp the moon, Or the great Nassau balloon, Or a ball for horse or hound, or Bullet for an eighteen-pounder. " DOCTOR K. " Well, sir well, sir we '11 arrange it, If you can't take pills, we ; 11 change it ; Take, we '11 say, A powder gray, All the same to us which way ; Each will do ; But, sir, you Must perspire whate'er you do, (Sudorific comes from sudo /) Very odd, sir, how our wills Interfere with taking pills! I 've a patient, sir, a lady Whom I 've told you of already, She '11 take potions, She'll take lotions, She '11 take drugs, and draughts by oceans ; She'll take rhubarb, senna, rue ; She '11 take powders gray and blue, Tinctures, mixtures, linctures, squills, But, sir, she will not take pills ! Now the throat, sir, how 's the throat ? " PATIENT. " Why, I can 't produce a note ! I can't sound one word, I think, whole, But they hobble, And they gobble, Just like soapsuds down a sink-hole, Or I whisper like the breeze, Softly sighing through the trees ! " DOCTOR. " Well, sir well, sir never mind, sir, We'll put all to rights, you'll find, sir: Make no speeches, Get some leeches ; You '11 find twenty Will be plenty, 174 RICHARD HARRIS BAR HAM. Clap them on, and let them lie On \\\c pomum Adatni; Let them well the trachea drain, And your larynx, And your pharynx Please put out your tongue again 1 Now the blister! Aye, the blister 1 Let your son, or else his sister, Warm it well, then clap it here, sir, All across from ear to ear, sir ; That suffices, When it rises, Snip it, sir, and then your throat on Rub a little oil of Croton : Never mind a little pain ! Please put out your tongue again I Now, sir, I must down your maw stick This small sponge of lunar caustic, Never mind, sir, You'll not find, sir, I, the sponge shall leave behind, sir, Or my probang make you sick, sir, I shall draw it back so quick, sir; This I call my prime elixir 1 How, sir ! choking ? Pooh! you 're joking Bless me! this is quite provoking! What can mak{ you, sir, so wheezy? Stay, sir ! gently ! take it easy ! There, sir, that will do to-day. Sir, I think that we may say We are better, doctor, eh ? Don't you think so, Doctor Blane ? Please put out your tongue again I Iodine and anodyne, Ipecacuanha wine, And since you the pills decline, Draught and powder gray at nine. There, sir! there, sir! now good-day, I 've a lady 'cross the way, I must see without delay I " [K.rfunt Doctor*. TO THE GARRICK CLUB. Ye shepherds give ear to my lay, Who have nothing to do about sheep, While, as Shenstone, the poet, would say, I have nothing to do but to weep. TO THE GARRICK CLUB. 175 For here I sit all the day long, And must do so, I dare say, all June, While so far from singing a song, I can't even whistle a tune. For the probang, the blister, and leech, So completely my notes have o'erthrown, When I try the sweet music of speech, I start at the sound of my own. It's useless attempting to speak, For my voice is beyond my control ; If high, it's an ear-piercing squeak, If low, it 's a grunt or a growl ! Can Clifton those beauties assume, Which patients have found in her face, When shut up all day in a room, One can't get a peep at the place ? Ye Garrickers, making your sport, As ye revel in gossip and grub, Oh ! send some endearing report Of how matters go on at the Club. When I think on the rapid mail train, In a moment I seem to be there, But the sight of N. E. on the vane Soon hurries me back to despair. The Committee, oh, say do they send A blessing or ban after me ? Mr. Gwilt, does he duly attend To his salad and little roti? Davy Roberts, that glorious R. A., Does he still smoke his hookha in peace/ Is Millingen there every day? Is Mills a trustee to the lease ? Does the claret suit Thornton ? and how Does Lord Tenterden like the cigars ? Has any one yet in a row Kicked impudent down-stairs ? For methought that a sweet little bird In my ear of its likelihood sung, And I loved it the more when I heard Such tenderness fall from its tongue. Oh, say is the story a hoax, Or one to be classed nmons: fibs. 176 K 1C HARD HARRIS BAKU AM. . That Murphy 's upset with his jokes Colonel Sibthorpe, and broken his ribs ? Has Durant got rid of his cough ? Are Sav'ry's rheumatics quite gone ? And how do the dinners go off, And how does the ballot go on ? Does Stanhope's good humor endure ? What are White and Sir Henry about / Is Talfourd gone up to his tour, Or Arden gone down to his trout ? Does the Cook keep his character still ? Has the Fishmonger been in disgrace For, in lieu of a turbot or brill, Substituting a horrible plaice ? Does Calcraft, who saved us from blazing, Still watch o'er our int'rests at night ? Does Ovey still drive up his chaise in ? Is Rainy as ever polite ? Charles Kcmble, his nose is it aching As yet from his fall, or got well ? Has Harley decided on making Miss a church-going belle ? Is Titmarsh on anything clever, Or bent on returning to France ? Is I'lanclie as bustling as ever, Avowedly going to Dance ? ' Say where but ah me ! wherefore ask When there 's none to reply or to care, And Echo herself scorns the task Of answering gloomily " Where ? " But Fladgate will write, or George Raymond, His muse will not surely decline For one moment to turn from the gay /<> ex- penses while in the country should be set down to the charge of the government. HENRY HOPE. 243 LYDIA WHITE. Among those most celebrated for their hospitalities during Mr. Harness's earlier residence in London, was Miss Lydia White. She kept a " menagerie," and was herself not the least remarkable specimen it contained. Brave in paint and plaster a wonderful work of art she underwent all the labor nec- essary to produce the grand effect, not from any vanity or af- fectation, but from motives of pure benevolence. "Were I," she observed, " to present myself, as I naturally am, without any of these artificial adornments, instead of being a source of pleasure, and perhaps amusement, to my friends, I should plunge them into the profoundest melancholy." This con- siderate lady was not only fond of clever conversation, but sometimes herself joined in the tournament of wit. Mr. Har- ness remembered many sallies of playful nonsense which he had heard from her ; one of those he preserved was the fol- lowing : On the return of Charles X. to Paris, Talma was en- gaged to play " Sylla ; " but he looked so much like Napoleon, that he was ordered to put on a curly wig. " Why," said Lydia, " were he to do that, we should hardly know Scylla from Charybdis." On another occasion, at one of her small and most agree- able dinners in Park Street, the company (most of them, ex- cept the hostess, being Whigs) were discussing, in rather a querulous strain, the desperate prospects of their party. "Yes," said Sydney Smith, "we are in a deplorable condi- tion ; we must do something to help ourselves ; I think we had better sacrifice a Tory Virgin." This was partially ad- dressed to Lydia White, who at once catching and applying the allusion to Iphigenia, answered, "Well, I believe there is nothing the Whigs would not do to raise the wind ! " HENRY HOPE. Among Mr. Harness's more intimate friends, the name of Henry Hope should not be omitted. This celebrated million- aire, the author of " Anastasius," and the unfortunate hero in 244 WILLIAM HARNESS. the picture of "Beauty and the Beast," was unremitting in his kindness and hospitality towards the young clergyman. He frequently invited him to stay at the Deep Dene, and here Mr. Harness found himself surrounded by all the talent and wealth cf England. The tone of the conversation sometimes amused him much ; as when Rothschild observed to Hope that a man must be " a poor scoundrel who could not afford to lose two millions ; " or replied to a nobleman who said he must be a supremely happy man, " I happy ! when only this morning I received a letter from a man to say that, if I did not send him .500, he would blow out my brains ! " * Mr. Hope had a tutor for his sons at the Deep Dene. One day, when Mr. Harness was staying there, he found this gentleman pac- ing up and down the room in the most distressing agitation of mind. " Is there anything the matter ? " inquired Mr. Har- ness, anxiously. " The matter ! " he replied, " I should think there was ! Three of the worst things that can possibly hap- pen to a man : I 'm in love I 'm in debt and I 've doubts about the doctrine of the Trinity ! " Mr. Hope died in 1831. The night after his death Mr. Har- ness dreamed that he saw Lord Beresford's country residence in an unusual state of commotion. He woke up with the im- pression that some death or other great calamity had happened there : and though he afterwards thought lightly of the matter, he determined, as he was going in that direction, to call at Lord Beresford's in Duchess Street, on his way home. On arriving there, he found the blinds down, and the house shut up ; and upon inquiring, the gate-porter told him that Mr. Thomas Hope had died the day before at Bedgebury Park. Mr. Harness had not known that his friend was either ill or in England. Mr. Hope left Mr. Harness his literary executor. 1 The demands made upon the great are certainly most extraordinary. I remem- ber the late Archbishop Sunnier telling me that a man wrote to him to send him im- mediately yx>, as it would save him from " some unpleasant complications." It was to be directed to X. Y. Z , Post Office, Bristol. SERJEANT TALFOURD. 24$ SERJEANT TALFOURD. It was through Miss Mitford's introduction that Mr. Har- ness became acquainted with Serjeant Talfourd. He had been a Reading boy a pupil of Dr. Valpy's and the authoress felt an admiration for his talents even greater than that she entertained for everything else of worth which ema- nated from her " Belford Regis." He was one of those many protegh for whom she predicted a successful career ; and when, in after-years, her prophecy had proved true, she often stayed on a visit at his house in London. One of these occasions was shortly after the production and favorable reception of the Serjeant's well-known play of " Ion." Miss Mitford was also herself at the zenith of her fame. " Rienzi " had run for fifty nights at Drury Lane ; and the attention she received, and the crowds of visitors she attracted, kindled a flame of jealousy in the breast of the rival author. Some complaints of his unrea- sonable conduct towards her may be found in her letters at this period. It was, perhaps, natural that a man who had just written a successful play should feel a little proud of his bantling ; but the serjeant seems, in this respect, to have alto- gether exceeded the bounds of moderation. One morning at breakfast, during Miss Mitford's visit, he opened a newspaper and came upon a review depreciating his beloved play. This brought matters to a crisis. He loudly inveighed against the injustice of the critic ; and on Miss Mitford's endeavoring to pacify him, by remarking that it was really not so severe, and that she should not have felt so much had the strictures been made on her " Rienzi," " Your * Rienzi,' indeed ! " re- plied the serjeant contemptuously ; " I dare say not ! That is very different ! " I have even heard it stated that the dis- sension on this subject became so unpleasant that Miss Mit- ford packed up her boxes one morning and drove away to Mr. Harness's. The serjeant may, perhaps, be pardoned, for his affection for " Ion " was deep and constant. On one occa- sion, when Dickens was calling on Rogers at Broadstairs, he observed, "We shall have Talfourd here to-night." "Shall 246 WILLIAM HARNESS. we?" returned the poet ; "I am rejoiced to hear it. I hope he will come and dine ; but how do you know he is coming ?" " Because ' Ion ' is to be acted at Margate, and he is never absent from any of its representations." There was as much careless freedom in Talfourd's house- hold as in that of most men of genius. Goldsmith himself could not have desired a more entire absence of conventional- ity. One day, when Mr. Harness was dining at their house in company with several judges, the serjeant and Mrs. Talfourd sat throughout dinner each with a cat in their lap. On an- other occasion, Mrs. Talfourd requested him to carve a chicken which was placed before him. He essayed to comply, but on his making the attempt the bird spun round and shot off the dish. Mr. Harness, who was a little timid in society, was much perturbed by this misadventure ; but on examining the cause of it, he found that he had been given a fork with only one prong ! " Will you be so good as to cut that tart before you," said the hostess to another guest. " Certainly, if you desire it," was the reply ; " but perhaps you are not aware that it has not been in the oven ? " A DINNER AT THACKERAY'S. The name of Dickens brings us to that of his great con- temporary, Thackeray ; with regard to whom Mr. Harness appeared to entertain some prejudice. He thought his Bohe- mianism and the general tone of his writings exercised an in- jurious influence on the rising generation. His first personal experience of the novelist was certainly not calculated to re- move this impression. Thackeray invited him to dinner, and Mr. Harness accepted with delight, promising himself a rich intellectual feast at the house of a man of such literary rep- utation. He was gratified in one respect, for when he arrived he found learning and talent most ably represented. The party at dinner was large, and while the ladies remained the conversation wandered softly among flowers and wine and airy compliments. At length the movement came the flutter of fans and silks and the gay corttge of youth and beauty made DR. MILMAN. 247 its way to the upper world. The light element had now passed away ; the hour had arrived ; and Mr. Harness looked for- ward to such a discussion as should surpass the days of yore. Now was the time for sharp repartee and for the settling of accounts between rival wits for the cut and thrust and skill- ful parry. He settled himself in his chair, prepared to take his part if necessary, and kept his eyes and ears open, so a'- not to lose a single word or gesture. " Do you smoke ? " in- quired the host. "Smoke?" Mr. Harness had never been guilty of such an offense against social morality. In his day, tars and bargemen were the only smokers except Dr. Parr and he retained all the old prejudices against such an imitation of chimney-pots. He would as soon have thought of going to carouse at a public-house as of smoking in the dining-room after dinner. " Smoke, sir ? I do not." But his firm refusal had no effect whatever on the epicurean company by which he was surrounded. Cigars and tobacco were placed upon the table ; punch and negus followed ; and the observations which were made during the rest of the sitting consisted only of such instructive remarks as " Pass the box," and " Fill up!" DR. MILMAN. Dr. Milman, who was for a long period Vicar of Reading, before he became Dean of St. Paul's, was one of Mr. Harness's and Miss Mitford's earliest friends. Speaking of his cele- brated poem, Mr. Harness observed that one day he found Mr. Murray in an unusual state of disquietude and indignation. "Would you believe it," demanded the publisher, "Milman has written to ask me for an additional sum for the second edition of the ' Fall of Jerusalem ?' Why, it was I who made that poem." " You ? " repeated Mr. Harness in much aston- ishment ; for although Mr. Murray was an excellent man of business, he could never have been accused of being in the least degree poetical " you made the ' Fall of Jerusalem ? ' " " Yes," maintained the publisher stoutly. " I should like to know what that poem would have been if I had not brought it out in an octavo form ? " Mr. Murray sent the MS. of " Philip 248 WILLIAM HARNESS. van Artevelde " to Milman and Harness for their opinions as to its prospects of success. Both, strange to say, were unfa- vorable to it. Mr. Harness said he never knew a book look so different in print from what it did in manuscript. There was to the last much sympathy and intercourse between these Remarkable brother clergymen. A PRISON CHAPLAIN. On our conversation turning one day upon the fact that cler- gymen generally were destined to witness but small results from their labors, Mr. Harness remarked that allusion had been made to the same subject previously when he was visiting a prison chaplain. Mr. Harness asked him whether his ministry had been attended with success. " With very little, I grieve to say," was the reply. " A short time since I thought I had brought to a better state of mind a man who had attempted to murdera woman and had been condemned to death. He showed great signs of contrition after the sentence was passed upon him, and I thought I could observe the dawnings of grace upon his soul. I gave him a Bible, and he was most assiduous in the study of it, frequently quoting passages from it which he said convinced him of the heinousness of his offense. The man gave altogether such a promise of reformation, and of a change of heart and life, that I exerted myself to the utmost, and ob- tained for him such a commutation of his sentence as would enable him soon to begin the world again, and as I hoped with a happier result. I called to inform him of my success. His gratitude knew no bounds ; he said I was his preserver, his deliverer. ' And here,' he added, as he grasped my hand in parting, 'here is your Bible. I may as well return it to you, for I hope that I shall never want it again.' " SOME OF HARNESS'S ANECDOTES. A country rector, coming up to preach at Oxford in his turn, complained to Dr. Routh, the venerable Principal of Maudlin, that the remuneration was very inadequate, consider- ing the travelling expenses, and the labor necessary for the SOME OF HARNESS'S ANECDOTES. 249 composition of the discourse. " How much did they give you ? " inquired Dr. Routh. " Only five pounds," was the reply. " Only five pounds ? " repeated the doctor. " Why, I would not have preached that sermon for fifty." At a dinner party a somewhat dull couple, who affected literature, informed their friend that they were going to visit the city of Minerva. Mr. Harness, who happened to be sit- ting next to the humorous Jekyll, heard him mutter to himself, " To the Greeks foolishness." The Bishop of Derry was disputing with a Roman Catholic priest about purgatory. " Well, my lord," replied the priest in conclusion, " you may go farther and fare worse." Jones, the tailor, was asked by a customer who thought much of his cut, to go down and have some shooting with him in the country. Among the party was the Duke of Northum- berland. " Well, Mr. Jones," observed his Grace, " I 'm glad to see that you are becoming a sportsman. What sort of gun do you shoot with ? " " Oh, with a double-breasted one, your Grace," was the reply. Speaking of Brummell, Mr. Harness remarked that many of the dandies of his time were men of wit, and not mere clothes-horses. He remembered a party standing to admire a sunset where the orb of day was departing in a golden glory. " Does it very well, does n't he ? " observed Brummell. On another occasion Brummell was walking with a friend past the newly erected bronze statue in Hanover Square. " Well," said his friend, " I never thought Pitt had been so tall a man." " Nor so green a one," added Brummell. Belvoir Castle was at that time very famous for its hospitalities. So large was the number of invitations that people used to come and go almost without the knowledge of the duke. When one set had left, another succeeded as a matter of course, without waiting for any formal invitation. Brummell was among those who enjoyed these privileges. On one occasion a friend went down to Belvoir, and as usual applied for an apartment. " There are none vacant," replied the housekeeper. " None vacant ! " returned the dismayed visitor ; " how can that be ? I 250 WILLIAM HARNESS. know that Mr. Brummell came up to town yesterday." "Yes, sir," replied the lady, "but he took the key along with him." Having consorted with so many of the most brilliant wits for half a century, Mr. Harness had heard so many racy -say- ings, that it was difficult to produce any jeu (Tesprit which seemed to him really original. On one occasion (when he had been dining in company with the Bishop of Oxford and Mr. Gladstone) I inquired how he enjoyed his privilege, and what was the character of the intellectual banquet ? " Well," he replied, " after dinner the gentlemen began to relate anec- dotes, and, to say the truth, I don't think I ever heard so many stale ' Joe Millers ' in my life." GEORGE HODDER. GEORGE HODDER. DOUGLAS JERROLD. jjEIGH HUNT, in his memoir of Lord Byron, speaks of the first time he ever saw the poet ; but he re- calls the fact in a manner which critics have not hesitated to condemn as at variance with good taste. I hope, therefore, that when I mention the circumstances un- der which I first saw the late Douglas Jerrold I shall only be recording an incident which the great wit himself, or his biographer and son, William Blanchard Jerrold, would hardly fail to smile at good-hum oredly. I had, a few months previously, become the intimate asso- ciate of Henry Mayhew, who has long since gained for him- self a well-known name in the roll of literary worthies, and who had but just achieved a privilege he had long sought, namely, that of being admitted to the friendship of Douglas Jerrold. Henry Mayhew was then living next door to the Colosseum, in Albany Street, Regent's Park, and was con- stantly engaged in experiments with an electric battery, which were fraught with some danger, and once had the effect of producing an explosion, which created no little alarm amongst the neighbors. In order to be well protected against the mis- chievous influence of the chemicals used in his scientific in- vestigations, he was accustomed to wear an entire suit of some black material, highly glazed and loosely made. On one occa- sion he had asked me to come to his house to see some of his 254 GEORGE ff ODDER. experiments, and I too gladly availed myself of the invitation, though I had no idea at the time that I (a mere stripling under twenty years of age) should then have the gratification of meeting an author whose writings in the " New Monthly Magazine " I had read admiringly, and whose plays I was bold enough to think (as, indeed, I still think) were among the most charming productions of our dramatic literature. To my great delight, however, I had not been in the room many minutes before I was introduced to Douglas Jerrold, who was flitting about with that peculiar restlessness of eye, speech, and demeanor, which was among his most marked character- istics. I confess I was not surprised to find him a man of small stature, as I had heard before that his proportions were rather those of Tydeus than of Alcides ; but I was a little as- tonished when I saw in the author of " Black-eyed Susan," " The Rent- Day," and " The Wedding Gown " (all of which pieces and many others he had then produced), an amount ol boyish gayety and a rapidity of movement which one could hardly expect from a writer who had risen to high rank as a moralist and censor. As a matter of course, a friendly interchange of jokes took place ; for Henry Mayhew, though young, had shown, by his farce of " The Wandering Minstrel," and other kindred works, that a keen sense of wit and humor was among his intellect- ual qualities ; and after a few satirical allusions on Jerrold's part to what he obviously thought the visionary nature of Henry Mayhew's occupation, he turned suddenly upon the ambitious experimentalist (whose highly polished clothing had caused him much amusement), and exclaimed, " Why, you look like an advertisement of Warren's blacking ! " l It is not for me to say whether this little jeu (f esprit was of the most brilliant order of joking, but I am at least bound to state that the rapid flash produced its natural effect, and no one laughed more heartily than Jerrold himself ; for it was a doctrine of 1 Thi mot has ben published by Blanchard Jen-old in his Wit and Opinions of DougLn Jtrrold; but inasmuch as he received it from me, I Khali not be accused of plagiarism ; and I give it precisely as it occurred. DOUGLAS JERROLD. 255 his, as it was of Charles Lamb, that a man had a perfect right to laugh at his own jest. 1 From that time forth I saw much of Douglas Jerrold, and few had better or more frequent opportunities of observing the kindliness of his nature, and the pleasure he took in per- forming offices of friendship for literary aspirants in whom he felt an interest. As to his many good sayings, so slight was his estimate of their possible effect, that even friendship seemed to have no charm against the shaft, and hence it be- came a stereotyped phrase that Jerrold was always " bitter " an accusation which gave him so much pain that he more than once, in his writings, made it the subject of earnest dep- recation. Against this charge of bitterness his son aptly vin- dicates him. He says : " Although Douglas Jerrold often said bitter things, even of his friends, this bitterness never lost him a friend ; for to all men who knew him personally, he was valued as a kind and hearty man ; he sprang ever eagerly to the side even of a passing acquaintance who needed a kind- ness. He might possibly speak something keenly barbed on a grave occasion ; but his help would be substantial and his sympathy not the less hearty. For with him a witty view of men and things forced itself upon his mind so continually and irresistibly, and with a vividness and power so intense, that sarcasm flashed from his lips even when he was deeply moved. He knew that his subjection to the dominant faculty of his mind had given him a reputation in the world for ill- nature ; and he writhed under this imputation, for he felt how little he deserved it." It is quite unnecessary for me to con- firm this statement by any words of my own, but I shall select from a correspondence which is now before me two letters of Jerrold's in order to show how tenderly considerate he was for the feelings of a friend under the most delicate circum- 1 Shakespeare expresses himself to a different effect, when he says : " A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it." Love's Labor's Lost. 256 GEORGE HODDER. stances. Moreover, the letters are strongly characteristic of Jerrold's laconic and forcible style. The first is an answer to an invitation I had just sent him to be present at my wedding, and is as follows : "Sefittmlter 3*1, 185]. " DEAR GEORGE, Don't you put yourself out of your way to be embarrassed by too many visitors. I '11 see you when you come back, in your bran-new fetters. Meanwhile, I wish you both all happiness. " Yours faithfully, "D. JERROLD." The second letter is dated in March, 1857, four years and a half afterwards, and refers to the death of my dear wife : " DEAR GEORGE, I have just heard from my daughter of your terrible bereavement. Believe me that I sympathize with you most deeply. Though knowing personally but too little of your dear wife, I know enough to feel that your loss must be dreadful. But sorrow is the penalty we pay for life. For the sake of the dear child you must bear up and wrestle with your affliction. " Believe me sincerely yours, " DOUGLAS JERROLD." That Jerrold's friends were many is sufficiently proved by the fact that in the various social clubs he established or as- sisted in establishing he always had the support and coopera- tion of men who knew him for his private worth as well as his public usefulness, and who were glad to belong to a society of which he was, by universal consent, the head and front. Not that he ever assumed to himself a dominating position, or that he wished it to be supposed that he possessed any special power of attraction in his personal characteristics ; but he was essentially, as he called it, a " clubable man," and had the faculty of promoting good fellowship to an extent which few men have been able to inspire. Of the clubs he set afloat and gave names to, within my own recollection, I particularly call to mind those which he christened respectively " Hooks DOUGLAS JERROLD. 257 and Eyes" and " Our Club " the former holding its weekly meetings at the " Albion," in Russell Street. Covent Garden, and the latter at Clunn's, in the Piazza, Covent Garden. 1 Of the members of those clubs (one of which grew out of the other) there are many still living who will gladly vouch for the fact that he tuned the first instrument in the band that he gave the key-note to their joviality, and that the company con- tinued to look up to him as the ruling spirit in their social rev- els. Apropos of clubs, it may be here stated that Jerrold was so pleased with the success of his " Chronicles of Clover- nook," and so impressed with the poetic sound and the lasting popularity of the name " Clovernook ! " that although it can scarcely be called more than a fragment, he often declared his belief that it had a better chance of reaching the hands of future generations than the rest of his books. Sharing in this conviction, and wishing to pay a tribute to his father's memory, Blanchard Jerrold, some few years after his death, endeavored, in conjunction with a select body of friends, to raise a sum of money, in shares, to purchase a freehold in the country, within a few miles of London, for the purpose of establishing a rural retreat, in the shape of a club (to be called " the Clovernook "), to which its members might resort when anxious to escape from the cares and responsibilities of London life. The pros- pectus of this club I have not before me at the present moment, but having been its honorary secretary, I have in my possession several letters referring to it, and I transcribe a portion of one of them, because it emanates from a gentleman who was well qualified to form a judgment upon the subject. The letter is from John Cordy Jeaffreson, the author of " Crewe Rise," "Olive Blake's Good Work," "A Book about Doctors," etc. He says : " The Clovernook Club has my warmest wishes for its 'Many years before this period Jerrold was an active member of a club, called "The Mulberries," which was held at the Wrekin Tavern, in the neighborhood of Covent Garden, and in which a regulation was established that " some paper, or poem, or conceit bearing upon Shakespeare should be contributed by each member," the general title being " Mulberry Leaves." 17 2$8 GEORGE I/ODDER. success, and I hope one day to be a member of it. I also fully appreciate the compliment paid me by its promoters in placing my name on the committee ; but I cannot, without knowing more exactly than I do at present the pecuniary arrangements and prospects of the undertaking, consent to be a shareholder. Although I am a literary man. I have not said ' Cood-by ' to Caution and Prudence, and do not wish to render myself liable to be called upon to pay a large sum for expenses during the first or second year of the Club's existence and yet in this unpleasant position I may find myself if I join in the responsi- bilities of an affair the probable durability of which I know nothing about. On one occasion, and one only, Mr. in- vited me to join the Club, and I then stated that I heartily ap- proved the scheme, and should like to be a member, but, as I was very likely going ere long to India, I did not think I should invest in a share." Whether Mr. Jeaffreson's sly allusion to the fact that, al- though he was a literary man, he was not without caution and prudence, produced any immediate effect with intending mem- bers and shareholders need hardly be stated here ; suffice it that the promoters of the scheme saw that it would be difficult to obtain the desired support from the only persons to whom they could wisely and conscientiously appeal, and therefore they very properly abandoned it before any material expense was incurred. It was at the two clubs above mentioned the "Hooks and Eyes" and "Our Club" that Douglas Jerrold was known to have said many of the best things that are recorded of him ; but as the great majority of these have been pub- lished in " The Wit and Opinions of Douglas Jerrold," I need not now seek them out, although it is not to be supposed that the son was enabled to string together all the gems that re- flected the flashing light of his father. The indefatigable lit- erary explorer, Mr. John Timbs, has devoted several pages of his book on " Club Life " to a chapter on " Douglas Jerrold's Clubs," in which he has adroitly introduced much of the rich fruit that fell around the table when Jerrold was present. In DOUGLAS JERROLD. 259 point of fact, the wise and witty sayings of Jerrold have found so many chroniclers, in various shapes and forms, that it would perhaps be in vain to give any important instances which would not at once lead to the exclamation, " I have seen that before ! " As a specimen of the singularly laconic style of Jerrold's letters a style which he has been heard to say, jocularly, that he adopted because he felt, when writing a private epis- tle, he was " not going to be paid for it " the following note, received from him a few days before Christmas Day, may be appropriately quoted : "SUNDAY EVENING. Putney. " DEAR HODDER, Will you dine with me on Xmas Day ? " Yours truly, " D. J." The recollection of my long intercourse with Douglas Jer- rold brings to my mind so many agreeable pictures in which he forms the most prominent figure, that I am tempted to dwell for a short time longer upon this part of my task, and to relate such of my experiences as relate especially to himself, unconnected, except in a small degree, with other men of lit- erary distinction. One of my earliest and most agreeable reminiscences of Jerrold brings me to a period which at once suggests many occurrences of peculiar interest (as will presently be seen) to those who, in their estimate of public characters, would gladly acquire some knowledge of their private tastes and virtues. It was in the year 1841 ; and Jerrold had for some time domi- ciled himself and his family at a snug little villa at Boulogne, in the Rue D'Alger, Cape'cure, which, as "all England " knows (for all England is supposed to be familiar with Boulogne), is on " the other side of the water " from the town proper ; his motive for residing in France being to educate his children two girls (the elder of whom afterwards became Mrs. Henry Mayhew) and three boys. William Blanchard Jerrold, the eld- est son, was at that period a rosy-cheeked stripling of about 260 GEORGE HODDER. fourteen years of age ; and I am glad to think that, as time passed away, my acquaintance with him ripened into a sub- stantial and enduring friendship. Jerrold had often written to friends in London, apprising them of the comfortable quarters he was housed in, and inviting them to partake of his hospi- tality. Amongst those who were thus favored was myself, and I well remember the cordial terms in which the invitation was conveyed, and the many temptations held out to me to un- dergo " the perils of the Channel " for the first time. The prospect of a fortnight's sojourn under the roof of such a com- panion as Douglas Jerrold was much too tempting to be re- sisted ; and the pleasure I felt was enhanced when I received a letter from him, stating that, if I came on a given day at a specified time, the tide would enable me to arrive at Boulogne at an hour when he could meet me on the port. I went by " long sea," as it was called that is to say, by steamboat direct from London Bridge to the harbor of this picturesque and enlivening watering-place. The day was a Sunday in the month of August, and the vessel reached its destination be- tween two and three o'clock in the afternoon. The weather was lovely in the extreme, and the port was thronged with people, all more or less anxiously looking for the arrival of the boat. The scene was altogether the most perfect instance of cheerful bustle and animation I had ever witnessed ; and I was disposed to wonder how it was that, in the midst of so much attractive excitement, an author could find sufficient re- pose for the due exercise of his brain ; for Jerrold was at that time engaged in many important literary undertakings. Long before I was enabled to leave the deck of the vessel, I descried, to my infinite delight, Jerrold standing as near to the landing-place as the crowd would permit him ; and the moment he saw me he gave me such a " sweet smile of welcome " that I could but feel what a care-dispelling visit fortune had placed in store for me. Then came the hearty shake of the hand, and the joke far, far indeed from a "bitter" one and the delay during the tedious ceremony at the custom-house ; for in those days the passport system was carried out with the most pro- DOUGLAS JERROLD. 26 1 yoking determination. Arrived at Jerrold's dwelling he ex- claimed, as we entered, placing himself in a sort of theatrical attitude, " The bandit's haunt ! Let us see what fare we have within ! " I very soon found, however, that his habits were by no means of a melodramatic cast, and that he was sur- rounded by every comfort, not to say luxury, which could be desired by a contented and united English family abroad. His children were home from school that day, and I was much impressed by the pride and pleasure he seemed to feel in intro- ducing them, and in pointing out jocosely their several charac- teristics. He occupied himself " at his desk " (as he always expressed it when speaking of his mental employment) in the morning ; and in the afternoon he was ready for a walk along the sands, or an excursion into the market-place to amuse himself with the fruit-vendors, or for a jaunt into the country to one of the many attractive little villages which lie within a few miles' dis- tance of Boulogne. A dip in the sea his native element, as he sometimes called it was a relaxation to which he was especially addicted ; but he did not care to indulge it where the multitude were wont to assemble for the same object. On one occasion I was walking with him at sunset along the beach, in the outskirts of the town, when the tide was unusu- ally low, and the sands were as smooth and unruffled as a drawing-room carpet. The charm of the weather seemed to absorb Jerrold's attention, for the evening was as calm and placid as the countenance of a sleeping infant, and he made frequent allusions to the atmosphere, which, he said, was such as he had never experienced "out of France." At length, fixing his eye upon the almost motionless sea, and inhaling the fresh air as if he were sipping nectar, he suddenly exclaimed : " How lovely the water looks ! Egad, I '11 have a dip ! " and in scarcely more time than is occupied by the pantomime- clown in making his inevitable " change," he stuck his stick in the sand, placed his hat upon the top and his clothes around it, and ran into the water with a nimbleness which he could hardly have surpassed in the midshipman days of his youth. 262 GEORGE HODDER. During this visit to Douglas Jerrold, I made the acquaint- ance of Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Wigan, the now celebrated, but then comparatively unknown, dramatic artists, who had been living for some weeks at Boulogne, and with whom I enjoyed a daily companionship. Mr. and Mrs. Wigan were frequent guests at the house of Douglas Jerrold, who entertained a strong opinion in regard to the dramatic capabilities of the former, and was resolved to promote his advancement by every means at his command, although up to that period Mr. Wigan had really done nothing to indicate the possession of that histrionic power which he has since displayed. During his stay at Boulogne, Jerrold wrote that most charming of serio-comic dramas, " The Prisoner of War," and also the comedy of " Gertrude's Cherries," in which he introduced a character called Alcibiade Blague (a Frenchman speaking broken English), which he had studiously designed for Alfred Wigan, and was resolved that no one but that gen- tleman should play it. The piece was ultimately produced at Covent Garden Theatre, but with a degree of success which can only be pronounced moderate, although it was brimful of the characteristic charms of Jerrold's dramatic muse, ami Mr. Wigan achieved high distinction by his personation in the part so generously assigned to him. 1 "The Prisoner of War," which was produced at Drury Lane Theatre in February, 1842, met with a different fate, for it proved to be one of the most entertaining and effective pieces that ever came from Jerrold's pen, comprising as it did a delightful admixture of comedy and pathos, and being performed by such artists as Mr. Thelps, Mr. James Anderson, Mr. Hudson, Mr. Selby, Mr. Morris Barnett, Mr. George Bennett, Mr. Keeley, Mrs. Keeley, Miss Fortescue, Mrs. C. Jones, Mrs. Selby, etc. It is not a little singular that, proud as Jerrold was and had reason to be of this admirable work, he never saw it played at least during its first season ; but he always expected, he said, that the result ' It it difficult to conceive why thin piecr, with many others of the same author** production*, including The Wkitt Milliner, Th* fftart of (Sol.i, etc., ha* not been publi>hed in the collected edition of Jerrold'* comedie* and dramas. DOUGLAS JERROLD. 263 would prove as gratifying as it did ; for the sentiment was homely and truthful, and there were two characters in the piece Peter" Pall Mall and Polly Pall Mall, brother and sister represented by Mr. and Mrs. Keeley, which were sufficiently diverting to insure a successful ordeal for even a less meritorious work. The reference to this drama in particular naturally leads to the consideration of Douglas Jerrold's dramas in general ; and I cannot but think it a source of national regret that such thoroughly original and legitimate productions as " Time Works Wonders," " Bubbles of the Day," " The Rent Day," " The Schoolfellows," " The Housekeeper," " The Wedding Gown," " Doves in a Cage," " The Prisoner of War," " Re- tired from Business." etc., should not be occasionally revived on the metropolitan stage, for the charm of reading them is so great that one yearns to see them assume a substantial form and color. Setting aside the more important plays in five acts " Time Works Wonders" l and " Bubbles of the Day " it has always appeared to me that Jerrold's dramatic works are the best efforts of his genius, combining as they do the most concise and salutary plots, and an infinite knowledge of the secret springs of character, with the most terse, yet impres- sive dialogue ; and it is certainly sad to think that " Black- Eyed Susan "(the extraordinary merit of which, strange to say, he could never be induced to admit) should be the only one of his pieces which holds its due position before the public, while encouragement is given to a class of composition which never did, and never can, belong to the " literature " of the drama. Jerrold's dramas still " live," but, unhappily, not in the full knowledge of those who would rejoice in becoming more practically acquainted with them than they can possibly be through the unaided process of reading. To return to the domiciliary habits of Jerrold at his little cottage at Boulogne-sur-Mer. In the simplicity of his heart 1 When Jerrold first told me he had finished this comedy he called it " School- girl Love," and I made free to remark that I did not think the title sufficiently im- posing for a five-act play. 264 GEORGE HODDER. (for it is a trite proverb that the greatest minds can find pleasure in the smallest diversions) he had a most amiable predilec- tion for giving juvenile parties that is to say, parties con- sisting of his two daughters and certain of their school com- panions ; and on those occasions he included in the programme of the evening's amusement "acting charades," in which the principal performers were himself, Mr. and Mrs. Wigan, and M. Bonnefoy, the preceptor of his three boys. With what impulsive delight he entered into the spirit of those entertain- ments may be imagined by those who are not unmindful of the energy he displayed when subjecting himself to the ordeal of the stage ; and they may also conceive the intelligent zeal and earnestness with which Mr. Wigan (who was then patiently awaiting the chance of showing the " metal " that was in him) performed his part in the extempore representations. But the greatest charm of all to be found in those merry soirtes was gathered from the graceful agility of the juvenile ladies, who would commence a dance in the drawing-room and continue it in the garden, under the light of the moon " sweet mistress " of the ceremonies, as she was " of the sky." The entire bevy of young damsels being dressed in white muslin, the effect of their evolutions, as they tripped round the green sward at the back of the house, was certainly suggestive of a scene from one of those ever-captivating fairy stories, which are the de- light of age no less than of youth, and which, it is hoped, may always recur to us at our seasons of rejoicing. Many years have elapsed since those happy times, and I have often re- verted to them with a memory full of gratitude for the enjoy- ment 1 then experienced, and have asked myself the question " Will such days or nights ever come to us again ? " Or is it that, by some singular ordination of Providence, we are prone to look at the past with a higher sense of thankfulness than at the present ? In any case, I shall ever be keenly alive to the conviction that at no period of my career have I partaken of more unalloyed pleasure more innocent and healthful amuse ment, than I enjoyed under the " roof-tree " of Douglas Jerrold, at Boulogne-sur-Mer. DOUCLAS JERROLD. 26$ Some years afterwards Jerrold rented a cottage in the neighborhood of Herne Bay ; and there also I received, under similar circumstances, his most agreeable hospitality ; but, blessed as he was with all those domestic comforts which suf- ficed to gratify his moderate aspirations, the absence of that picturesque element belonging to the French watering-place prevented his indulging that perfect abandon which he felt under the sunny skies of the Pas de Calais. Still he was ever the most pleasant and attentive of hosts, as Mrs. Jerrold was the most thoughtful and considerate of housewives ; and it was noticeable that, so cunningly did the former arrange his few hours' work by rising early in the morning, that he never seemed absent from his guests, who were often some- what numerous at that time. Plans would be arranged daily for drives or pedestrian excursions to Margate or Canterbury, or to some sequestered nook lying far away in the country ; and on those occasions Jerrold would infuse new life into the party, by his never-ceasing glee, and by the rapidity with which he seized every possible opportunity of "tuning his merry note " to the utterance of a jest or anecdote that sprang out of the conversation, or from some fleeting material which his quickness of perception had enabled him to discover by the wayside. One of the most agreeable and most memorable of the ex- cursions now referred to was a jaunt by private conveyance to Whitstable, the object being to eat oysters fresh from the sea. The party on that occasion consisted of Jerrold, John Leech, Henry Mayhew (who was then engaged in the preparation of an English dictionary on a very elaborate scale, and had taken up his abode in a quiet, rural spot, with a view to pursuing his labors), Kenny Meadows, and myself. The oysters were pronounced to be such as " nobody " had ever tasted before ; and as they were supplied to us at less than half the cost that they have reached of late years, the quantity consumed was sufficient to justify a general recourse to some obviously- smuggled Schiedam, which caused us all to smack our lips with approving gusto, and which found such charms for one of 266 GEORGE HODDER. the party (who shall not be described by name), that he achieved the feat of imbibing, on the return journey, under a scorching July sun, the contents of a full flask. And he lives to tell the tale ! That he did not present himself at dinner that day may well be believed ; and much did he lose by his absence, for Jerrold was in one of his most humorous moods, and managed without any abnormal effort to keep the table in a roar ; but, it must be confessed, at the expense of our val- iant spirit-drinker, whose prowess had rendered every allusion to his name a source of unavoidable merriment. It was dui- ing Jerrold's residence at Herne Bay that he conceived and planned many of the best-known emanations from his pen, in- cluding " The Chronicles of Clovernook," already referred to ; and other attractive contributions to the " Illuminated Maga- zine," which had been started not long previously under his auspices and those of Mr. Ebenezer Landells, the engraver. The duty of sub-editor was assigned to me, and in that capaq- ity I was called upon to be the medium of communication be- tween the artists and the authors, and to supply the former with wood-blocks as well as subjects for their work. The practical responsibility of arranging the contents of each num- ber also devolved upon me ; jind, as this brought me in con- tact with contributors who preferred addressing me to inflict- ing their correspondence upon the editor, Douglas Jerrold, I often received letters which possessed an interest beyond that of the passing moment. I copy the following as an example of the unreserved manner in which a writer will place his confidence in one who, if he does not occupy the " editorial chair," has immediate access to it. The letter is from a gen- tleman who had already published two successful novels, and has since written others of corresponding ability and power : " NOTTINGHAM, May a, 1844. " DEAR SIR, Will you be kind enough to ascertain whether the last story I sent to Mr. Jerrold is acceptable or not ? I observe myself absent again this .month, or you would not have been troubled. But the fact is I am one of DOUGLAS JERROLD. 267 those unlucky dogs to whom the pen is a dependence, pre- cisely the same thing, you know, as saying my life hangs on a thread ; and, therefore, it is of importance to me that is to the extent of the bread-basket to avoid delay as far as pos- sible in the publication of such papers as may have the luck to meet with approval, or, if not, to have them returned as early as may be convenient. " I feel entire reliance upon Mr. Jerrold's kindness and con- sideration for my excuse in making these remarks, because he knows too well how much, at the very best, must be endured by any one like myself and thus situated. But whether, on that account, we deserve any more consideration than your happy and flourishing amateur penman, who feels sufficiently paid by seeing himself in print, is a question upon which, of course, I can offer no opinion. " Believe me, very sincerely yours, " CHARLES HOOTON." As I could not always be present when Jerrold was arrang- ing the contents of the number for the ensuing month, his practice was to send me word by letter the names of the arti- cles he had chosen, and which he desired should be next in order of publication. The following will serve to convey some idea of the fairness with which he dealt out his opinions upon papers submitted to his editorial judgment. It will be seen that the letter refers to an illness from which I was then re- covering, and to other matters of a personal nature, but the main object of his writing was to direct my attention to a de- cision he had come to respecting contributions he had re- ceived for the " Illuminated Magazine." " September 9. " MY DEAR HODDER, I write after hard morning's work, so write short. I 'm happy to hear you 're recovering. I have no doubt that among us we shall be able to make you some little amends if the San. [Sanatorium] should fail. 1 " ' The Dwellings of the Poor ' goes in this month. Hos- kins not at all. 1 The Sanatorium, or Home in Sickness an institution of which I was then secre- tary. 268 GEORGE HODDER. " If you return in about ten days, 't will be time enough for index. The Mag. is rising. I have been worked to death for Punch,' having it all on my shoulders, Mark, 1 a Beckett, and Thackeray being away. Nevertheless, last week it went up 1,500. " Yours ever truly, " D. J." Some of the best papers that Jerrold ever wrote for serial publications appeared in this periodical : " Elizabeth and Vic- toria " (a comparison between the social customs and vices of the two reigns) ; " The Order of Poverty ; " " The Old Man at the Gate ; " " The Two Windows ; " " The Folly of the Sword ; " and, above all, " The Chronicles of Clovernook," which he composed under the disadvantage of seriously im- paired health. During the progress of that work he was at- tacked by rheumatism in so aggravated a form that I fre- quently saw him propped up in bed while he prepared a chapter which the printer's boy was waiting below to receive ; and it was really touching to observe the patient endurance he betrayed when engaged in an occupation which necessarily in- creased the pain he was suffering. Whether his sensibilities were quickened by the sad condition he was reduced to, or whether his mind had become so thoroughly imbued with the subject he was treating, that even pain could not prevent his fulfilling his purpose, it is not for me to say ; but certain it is that during that long and severe illness the most poetical thoughts ever kindled in the brain of Jerrold were laid before the world. The body was weakened by suffering, but the light within was unquenched, and the results of his mental vigor at that crisis forcibly illustrate the truth of a theory which he advocated, whenever he heard of any extraordinary achievement by a contemporary whose advanced age would seem to render such achievement impossible that " Genius never dies." Indeed, so weak and emaciated had poor Jerrold become at that time that many of his friends began to have serious mis- 1 Mark Lemon, the editor. DOUGLAS JERROLD. 269 givings as to his ultimate recovery ; but (as he was often heard to exclaim in after-days) he took counsel with himself one morning as he endeavored to rise in his bed ; and when he thought of what he had done, and what he hoped to be still capable of doing, he said, "No I am not going to die." That he uttered these words with the same emphasis and vigor which characterize the ejaculations of Uncle Toby in the " Story of Le.fevre " can hardly be suggested ; but he was cer- tainly a man of stern resolve ; and he felt that his health gave signs of improvement, and that he was not doomed to end his days thus prematurely. But whether his health had improved or not, such was the dominant force of his will that he deter- mined to undergo the ordeal of the cold-water cure at Great Malvern ; and he allowed himself to be carried from his bed to the conveyance that was in readiness to remove him from his home. He was absent, I think, about three weeks ; and on his return his health, though not perfectly restored, was much invigorated, for the root of the disease seemed to have been destroyed, and he was capable of resuming his literary labors and the editorship of the " Illuminated Magazine," which, as he had reason to believe, was " rising " in circula- tion. The principle upon which this magazine was conducted afforded an illustration among the many which came within my knowledge of the exceptional readiness shown by Jerrold to allow young authors, who had never before " seen them- selves in print," to make their debut under his editorial aus- pices. There are many writers now holding prominent posi- tions before the public whose names were totally unknown, either to fortune or to fame, until Douglas Jerrold, with a vivid appreciation of the merit that was in them, gave them an op- portunity of starting on the career they aspired to. The pages of the "Illuminated" were generously thrown open to "all comers " whose contributions presented sufficient evidence of talent to Jerrold's discriminating eye ; and, what is more, he permitted them to affix their names to their articles if they were so disposed, for he could not see the justice of one all- 270 GEORGE HODDER. powerful writer keeping his own name prominently forward while those of his collaborateurs were suppressed. The " purpose " of the " Illuminated Magazine," as stated by Jerrold in a preface to the first volume, is thus de- scribed : " It has been the wish of the proprietors of this work to speak to the MASSES of the people ; and whilst sympathizing with their deeper and sterner wants, to offer to them those graces of art and literature which have too long been held the exclusive right of those of happier fortunes." That the magazine contained many articles especially adapted to the " masses " can scarcely be averred, nor was Jerrold's style of writing (at least in those days, when he had not yet thrown himself into the arena of newspaper contro- versy) such as could be said to appeal successfully to the com- prehension of the " great uneducated ; " but his heart and sympathies kept him their firm champion, although his nature was so fastidious that his friends were often known to say to him, " Jerrold, you 're a thorough aristocrat in the main." The magazine came into existence in the month of May, 1843, and terminated its career at the close of the third vol- ume (each volume extending over a period of six months). The final number contained the following : " POSTSCRIPT BY THE EDITOR. " With this number closes the third volume of the ' Illumi- nated Magazine,' and with it close the duties of the present editor. In the progress of his task he has received so much pleasure and encouragement from the sympathies and best wishes of many, that he cannot lay down the pen without thus formally acknowledging them. Trusting that the brevity with which this is done will not impugn its sincerity, the editor as editor bid? his readers a respectful farewell ; but not without the hope of again meeting them in these pages. "DOUGLAS JERROLD. "Stft. 97/4" DOUGLAS JERROLD. 2/1 The limited career of this work was doubtless owing to its unwieldly size, for it can scarcely be supposed that a monthly periodical, whose page presented almost as many superficial inches as that of the " Illustrated London News," would be regarded as a convenient form for the ultimate operation of binding. The work was admirably printed ; the illustrations were engraved by E. Landells, and designed by the best artists of the day in this branch of the pictorial art, including Kenny Meadows, Leech, Hine, Prior, Harvey, Henning, Gil- bert, etc. ; the letter-press comprised some of the most reada- ble productions of the day, both in poetry and in prose, and, above all, one of the leading attractions was the series of papers by the editor, under the title of " Chronicles of Clo- vernook," which, as previously stated in this volume, Jerrold estimated as his masterpiece in descriptive and imaginative writing. It is abundantly clear, therefore, that the cause of its downfall must not be looked for in the contents, but in the unwillingness of the reading world to be diverted from the more handy magazines to which it had become familiarized. Not very long after the extinction of the " Illuminated Mag- azine," Messrs. Bradbury and Evans (who by this time had so allied themselves to Jerrold that he seldom published any- thing except under their auspices) produced a monthly periodi- cal, bearing Jerrold's name as the editor, with a desire to re- sume, as far as possible, the same character of articles for which the former work was especially distinguished. The new publication was called " Douglas Jerrold 's Shilling Mag- azine," and, when all preliminaries were settled, he addressed me the following note in reference to Dr. Hitchman, whose name I recall with much satisfaction : 'Nov. ii tk, '44. " DEAR HODDER, I arrived back last night. My object in now writing is that you should speak to Mr. H. (I forget his name), the surgeon of Sanatorium, telling him that I have a magazine coming out on the ist of January (the thing is de- cided), and that I shall be very glad if he will furnish an ar- 272 GEORGE HODDER. tide of the same nature to his last. The matter must be of \\\t present day, and social in its application. " Yours truly, " D. J." I need not say that the wish of my correspondent was strict- ly obeyed by me, and also, I believe, by the learned doctor. In the new magazine, which in point of size was the very opposite of the " Illuminated," Jerrold published his " St. Giles and St. James," "Twiddlethumb Town," and "The Hedgehog Papers ; " but as I was in no way associated with him in re- gard to the periodical, I shall not attempt to enlarge upon its characteristics, further than to draw attention to a somewhat romantic incident which I communicated to him, and which it was his intention to introduce into that work if its career had not been prematurely brought to a close. It was some time after the " Shilling Magazine " was projected that a now de- ceased sister of mine, having lost her husband in one of the Indian wars, was about to return to this country. She had made her way -from the seat of warfare to Calcutta, there to embark on one of the steamers leaving that city. Hearing, however, that a sailing vessel, under the command of one of her brothers, Captain Charles Hodder, was shortly to arrive at Madras, she prolonged her stay at Calcutta, and ultimately made her way to the former city. There she was detained several weeks, as she was resolved to return to England in her brother's ship, and the money she expended in conse- quence of the delay was actually a matter of serious consider- ation, seeing that she had not long lost her husband, and that she would not be able to complete her pecuniary arrange- ments until her arrival in London. At length came the day of sailing, and my sister (who had her only child with her, a boy some twelve months old) was the sole female passenger ; but she was so overjoyed at the idea of returning home under the care and guidance of her own brother, that she was fully reconciled to her position, and indeed she felt some little compensation for the sad bereave- DOUGLAS JERROLD. 2?$ ment she had lately sustained. One evening, while still skirt- ing the Coromandel coast, the vessel struck upon a reef, and my brother found that she was doomed to be a total wreck. Hastening down to his sister's cabin, and throwing his arms round her neck, he exclaimed, " Margaret, the ship's ashore, and I am a ruined man ! " She never murmured, nor gave way to those hysterical shrieks in which the tender sex too often seek relief in their misfortunes, but affectionately em- braced her brother, and implored him to hope for the best. She then placed what money she possessed at his disposal, and begged that he would resort to it in case of need. Nor did she dream of deserting him, but was heroically resolved to remain with him whatever might betide. It was, however, unadvisible that she should continue on board that night, as there appeared to be no chance of saving the vessel, and the probability was that early in the morning the whole of the crew would be compelled to abandon her. The lady was therefore conveyed ashore with her child, and she lay on the beach all night under the shelter of a capacious umbrella. She had taken with her a necessary supply of provisions, and, from what I understood at the time, the natives endeavored to steal them, for at break of day my brother, in surveying the spot by the aid of his telescope, saw his sister belaboring some two or three black fellows with a formidable weapon she held in her hand. 'But this is only a single instance of the courage and determination she displayed after the melancholy catastrophe, for the abandonment of the vessel was found to be inevitable, and my sister's exemplary fortitude was of great service to her brother in the strait to which he was unhappily reduced. So completely had she fixed her mind upon reach- ing England with him, that she accompanied him by the over- land route (as he was compelled to expedite his return in order to relate the particulars of the wreck to the owners of his vessel), and played a Christian woman's part towards him until she saw him in safety at her own fireside in London. On my recounting this little story to Jerrold'some time afterwards, while sitting tete-a-tete with him at the Cafe" de 1'Europe, in 18 274 GEORGE HODDEK. the Haymarket, I found I had touched a chord in his sensitive heart ; and when I came to the close, he exclaimed, thump- ing his hand upon the table, as was his wont when his enthu- siasm was aroused, " By G d ! that woman 's a heroine ! There 's a sister for a brother to be proud of ! " He then begged me to sketch out the details of the adventure upon paper ; and I speedily did so. But, for the reason I have al- ready described, his rendering of the story never appeared in print. I have spoken of the agreeable intercourse I enjoyed with Douglas Jerrold on the occasion of my first visit to Boulogne a seaport which, although it has been almost the fashion to regard it as an English rather than as a French watering-place, is, to all intents and purposes, as much a constituent part of the great empire of France as any other town lying between the straits of Dover and Paris. At the period just referred to I had no thought of anything beyond pleasure and recreation ; but many years subsequently I visited the same country again with my friend, under circumstances which partook chiefly of a business character. In such high esteem was the name of Jerrold held as the writer of the " Q " articles, which formed the political element of " Punch," that in the beginning of the year 1848 some few gentlemen of small capital tempted him to sanction the starting of a weekly journal in the liberal inter- est, under the title of " Douglas Jerrold's Weekly Newspa- per," himself, of course, the editor ; and the revolution which drove Louis Philippe from the throne occurring shortly after- wards, it was suggested that a powerful impetus might be given to the undertaking by Jerrold visiting Paris, and writing in the midst of the popular disturbances a series of articles from ocular demonstration. All arrangements being made for his departure, he proposed that I should accompany him, with a view to assist him by collecting material for the exercise of his pen ; and we arrived in Paris a few days "after the outbreak of the revolutionary movement. To describe the state of Paris at that extraordi- DOUGLAS JERROLD. 2?$ nary crisis would indeed be idle, as the details have long be- come matter of universal history. But I feel bound to revert to that period because it affords me an opportunity of exhib- iting a new phase of Douglas Jerrold's character, though at the same time I should state that the son has recorded in the biography already referred to chiefly indeed from informa- tion supplied by myself some particulars of the father's visit to the French capital. On our arrival in that metropolis many of the streets were rendered totally impassable by the barricades which had been raised throughout the city. The insurrectionary fury had been partially spent ; but the whole populace was in a most disorganized condition ; and so immi- nent was the danger of an entente arising, that the National Guard were in arms at all hours of the day and night, and the peaceful portion of the citizens were constantly disturbed by the sounding of the rappel. In all the public places flags and placards were exhibited, presenting such inscriptions as " Vive la Reforme" " Vive la Garde Naiionale." " A has le Roi ! " " A bas Guizot / " " Vive le peuple ! " etc., while the universal cry was " Libert^ EgalM, Fraterniti" Amongst the many excitements in which the people in- dulged was that of planting, in the most frequented streets, "trees of liberty," some of which manifested a disposition to grow, but the great majority were so choked by the surrounding paving-stones that they vainly struggled to exist. All this was abundantly visible to us during the first twenty-four hours of our stay in Paris ; and Jerrold, having once satisfied his eyes as to the general condition of the city, would not have been at all sorry had he been compelled to return home on the day after his arrival. On the second day he sat down in an uncomfortable corner of our private sitting-room, in, if I re- member rightly, the H6tel Bedford, and penned a long letter for his paper ; but gave little or no proof that he was writing from the scene of action. I saw, when he had dispatched his parcel, that he had embarked in an enterprise which was not likely to yield a return commensurate with the outlay, and in the few subsequent attempts he made to fulfill his mission it 2/6 GEORGE HODDER. was evident that his mind was not in his work. " After all," he more than once exclaimed, " I might just as well do this in Cheapside or Fleet Street ; " and on my reminding him that I had accompanied him to Paris for the sole purpose of col- lecting "facts" for him, and that I was most willing to carry out that object, he said, somewhat angrily, " D n the facts ! I don't want facts." Whereupon I expressed my regret that I had ever left London, as I did not like the idea of being use- less to him ; and many a time, when I hastened back to the hotel after spending some hours in gathering valuable infor- mation, and thought I should please him by describing what I had seen or learnt, he received me with coldness, and em- phatically declined to accept my proffered aid. I frequently reminded him that he had not yet delivered the letters of in- troduction, which he possessed, to Lamartine, Ledru-Rollin, and other influential persons, either in connection with the Provisional Government, or with some important public de- partment ; but he always evaded the subject, and said he was in no hurry to perform a task which he detested. At length I found that he had abandoned all further idea of acting in the character of a " special correspondent " for his own paper, resting content to supply himself with a few mis- cellaneous incidents of a cursory nature, and retaining them until he should be seated at his own desk at Putney Common, where he then resided. In short, he was blessed with so many "aids to reflection" and enjoyment in his own English home that he. could not brook the discomfort of writing in " strange nooks and corners," without the accustomed imple- ments of his calling, and far removed from those domestic in- fluences which he often confessed quickened his impulses and chastened his understanding. The work he had embarked in was totally unsuited to him, and it was really grievous to notice the expression of his countenance, as, morning after morning, the post brought him a letter from his locum tenens in London, Mr. Frederick Guest Tomlins, complaining of his shortcomings, and urging him to return, or to act in a manner more worthy of his ambition and of the known reputation he DOUGLAS JERROLD. 277 bore. He felt himself, however, in the position of an irre- sponsible agent, and he thought it would have been just as little worthy of him to attempt that which he knew he could not successfully accomplish as to neglect the duty altogether ; but at the same time he was reluctant to return to England until he had been absent a sufficient time to show that, at least, he had tried to fulfill the trust reposed in him. His plan, therefore, was to pass the morning in reading the French newspapers, and thus laying in a stock of material, either for his paper or for his weekly contributions to " Punch," and to devote the remainder of the day to sauntering about the Boulevards, choosing a restaurant to dine at, and visiting a theatre in the evening. In ordering his dinner his great fancy was for quelque chose appttissante, as he called the lighter form of entrees, and a bot- tle of Tavel the latter because he said it was "the French- man's port," and it was lighter and dryer than our own. It must be confessed, however, that the bent of his genius did not lie in the direction of gastronomy ; and though he well knew the difference between a gourmand and a gourmet, he had not the skill to order a dinner with a due regard to econ- omy, either in reference to money or food, and the result was that the former was often unnecessarily expended, and the lat- ter was much more plentiful than rechercht. He had every desire to vary his place of entertainment ; but if he could not procure his favorite Tavel he would not go a second time to a restaurant where that almost-exploded wine was disregarded. Although proud to be thought an Englishman, it was a source of annoyance to him to be treated as one, and he was apt to resent as an indignity any allusion to his being of the family of "John Bull." One day he essayed his taste and skill at the Cafe* Riche, which was on a somewhat more extensive scale than the restaurants he generally patronized, and upon his asking for the carte du jour, the waiter roused his anger to a high pitch by saying, " // y a du bon rosbif aujourd'- hiii." " Don't come to France to eat roast beef," he curtly re- plied : " Plenty of that at home." And he never dined at the Cafe* Riche again. 2;8 GEORGE HODDER. Thus the same spirit of discontent continued to pervade his actions during the few remaining days of his sojourn in the French metropolis ; and it was by no means decreased as the morning of his departure drew near ; for then he began to re- proach himself for not having delivered his letters of intro- duction. I observed that his mornings were often disturbed by visits from John Ppole, the author of " Paul Pry," who had for many years been living in Paris ; and although Jerrold never distinctly told me the object of his seeking him, it was evident from the manner of the latter, and from a few broken sentences he muttered, that there was some cause for coldness between them. " Poor Poole ! " he exclaimed one day, after receiving a visit from him ; " he has not made the best of his chances in life." At another time he observed that Poole was never known to say a good thing ; but that if an idea struck him in society he would "book it for his next magazine ar- ticle." Amongst others who sought Jerrold's acquaintance in Paris was the Rev. Francis Mahony (" Father Prout "), and I had the gratification of meeting the two men at a little dinner- party at the residence of Mr. Thomas Frazer, 1 the correspond- ent of the " Morning Chronicle," on the Boulevard des Capu- cines. Even on that occasion it was noticeable that Jerrold was ill at ease, and was not much disposed to talk upon the subject which at that period naturally absorbed the attention of the community. Indeed, he constantly reflected, both in society and when alone, that his visit to Paris had involved a loss of time and money, and that, on his return home, he should not receive that hearty welcome from his fellow-work- ers on the newspaper which his public position would other- wise have led him to expect. When the morning came for his departure about a fortnight after his arrival he openly ac- knowledged that his mission to Paris had been a failure ; and as he was arranging his portmanteau, he took therefrom a small packet, and, throwing it into the fire, said, " There are my letters of introduction ! " 1 This is the kind-hearted man alluded to by Thackeray in his Ballad of BottiUa- " There 'i laughing Tom is laughing yet." DOUGLAS JERROLD. 279 Although, as I have already shown, Jerrold's character at that time did not appear in a light quite so amiable as his friends could have wished, I. had many a teie-a-iete with him which contributed much to my enjoyment, for Jerrold never shone to* better advantage than when he was talking worldly wisdom to those who were glad to profit by what he taught them. Indeed, as a rule, he was an acceptable monitor, and did not give his advice in a patronizing or dictatorial spirit, but seemed to make himself tolerably sure that his words would at least be cheerfully received, if not, perhaps, fully acted upon. It was during our stay in Paris that he said some of those " good things " which have since bestrewn the paths of literature, and as they have now become the common prop- erty of the reading and the talking world, I shall avoid the risk of repetition by quoting only one or two of his bits of wisdom, which might, not inaptly, come under the category of "advice to young men." Talking of marriage, he said he would never advise a man to choose a wife on account of her intellect any more than for the sake of her money. " As to myself," he added, " since I have been married I have never known what it is to turn down my own socks." Speaking of young authors allowing their names to appear amongst the contributors to various publications at one and the same time, instead of concentrating their energies upon some work of an enduring character, he said, " Don't scatter your small shot." In allusion to the vice of getting into debt, he remarked that a man must be forgiven for procuring meat and bread upon credit, " but he has no right to do this sort of thing in the same way" (pointing to a bottle of wine which stood be- fore him). On my telling him that I had just attempted a little story in verse, and that I should be glad if he could rec- ommend it for publication, he said, " Why not walk, and tell the same thing in prose ? " He once told me a little story, which, as it seems to have escaped the notice of those who have written about him, although it may possibly be known in some shape, I shall introduce here, especially as Jerrold used to say that the incident came within his own experience. A 280 GEORGE HODDER. passenger, well-to-do in the world, had fallen overboard at sea, and his life was saved by an Irish sailor who jumped in after him. As a reward for the trifling service which his preserver had rendered him, the generous passenger presented Paddy with sixpence ! Whereupon the sailor, looking him full in the face, and scanning him from head to foot with a smile of su- preme contempt, exclaimed, in a rich Hibernian brogue, " Be jabers, it 's enough ! " On the occasion of the first performance of Jerrold's comedy of "Time Works Wonders," I had the good fortune to occupy a seat in his private box, and I well remember his feeling of delight, at the close, when he contemplated the success he had achieved. A party of his friends had arranged to sup together at the Bedford Hotel, Covent Garden, and as we walked thither from the Haymarket Theatre I offered him my hearty con- gratulations, for I had never witnessed a "first night" which was more fruitful in agreeable results than that of " Time Work Wonders." Arrived at the door of the hotel, I could not help repeating the gratification I felt at the author's well- merited triumph, when Jerrold, turning his eye full upon me, and smacking his chest with his hand, exclaimed, with a degree of exultation which was most natural under the circumstances, "Yes ; and here 's the little man that 's done it ! " " Time Works Wonders " was indeed a work for the author to be proud of, for we have had no piece in modern times so bristling with wit, so varied in character, and, withal, so inter- esting yet simple in plot, as this really admirable comedy. Why it should so long have remained unrevived is a question which I fear involves some reflection upon those of our man- agers who are guided by a desire to encourage the " legitimate drama " a phrase which, I take it, is intended to signify the drama of intellect, as contradistinguished from the unhealthy creations of a vitiated taste. As the offspring of eminent men must be admitted to bear a degree of interest in the eyes of the public proportionate to that which attaches to their parents, I may here take the opportunity of introducing some further mention of Douglas DOUGLAS JERROLD. 28 1 Jerrold's family, my object being to show that he was keenly alive to the necessity for seeing his children occupy a favorable position In the world. Edmund Douglas, his second son, received an appointment in the Treasury from Lord John Rus- sell, and was afterwards transferred to an office in the Com- missariat. Thomas Serle Jerrold (godson of Mr. T. J. Serle, the dramatist), the third son, was placed under the care of Mr. Paxton (aftenvards Sir Joseph) at the Duke of Devon- shire's estate at Chatsworth, with a view to his learning the art of gardening; and it was during young Tom's apprenticeship that his able instructor made his design for the Great Exhibi- tion Building in 1851. On the opening of the Great Northern Railway to that part of the world where Chatsworth is situated, I was instructed by the editor of a paper with which I was then connected, to take the journey, and to describe such objects of interest as might appear on the route, and particularly to direct my attention to the beauties of the Duke of Devonshire's seat. I placed myself under the guidance of Mr. Paxton, who received me with great courtesy, and after pointing out to me all the principal charms of the garden grounds, conducted me at length to a spacious conservatory which he had designed, and which was then approaching completion. It was built exclusively of iron and glass, and when Mr. Paxton had described the improvements it embraced over other structures of the like kind, he said he was then finishing a design upon the same principle for the contemplated building in Hyde Park. Having led me up a steep flight of stairs into an office in the garden, where several young men were engaged in pre- paring architectural plans, he called my attention to the draw- ing he had spoken of, and said, "That's the design I intend for the Great Exhibition." " But surely you 're too late," I observed ; " for the designs have already been sent in, and are now being exhibited." " I don't mind that," he replied, "they must have this. Look at the economy of it, and consider how short a time will be required to erect the building." The re- sult is far too widely known to need another word from me ; but I have recalled the circumstance because the newspaper article 282 GEORGE H 'ODDER. I wrote at the time contained the first public mention that was ever made of the Great Exhibition building of 1851. It was in the following year that Edmund Jerrold received his appointment in the Commissariat, and as he was under orders to proceed to Canada, his father and mother gave a little ball in his honor on the eve of his departure. Being a young gentleman of somewhat graceful proportions, and not a little proud to exhibit himself to the best advantage, he wore his uniform on the occasion, and was of course a very conspic- uous object during the evening. In short, his glittering ap- pearance was almost calculated to monopolize the attention of the lady visitors ; and his father being anxious that he should distinguish himself in some way beyond that of displaying his elegant costume, hoped, when his health was proposed, as it was in due course, after supper, that he might make a speech which would be considered " an honor to his family." When Edmund rose, champagne-glass in hand, to express his ac- knowledgments, he seemed so full of confidence, and pre- sented so bold a front to the assembled guests, many of whom were standing in clusters around the room, that his father must have thought he had a son of whose oratorial powers he should doubtless one day be proud. The young officer, how- ever, had scarcely got beyond the words " Ladies and gentle- men, for the honor you have done me," ere he suddenly col- lapsed, and resumed his seat ! Never was astonishment more strangely depicted upon the human countenance than it was upon that of Jerrold at this singular fiasco on the part of his hopeful son. He was literally dumbfounded, but at length he exploded with a sort of cachinnatory splutter not to call it laughter and looking round the room, in doubt as to where he should fix his gaze, he murmured " Well /" Amongst the guests on that evening was Dr. Wright, Jerrold's medical attendant, and that gentleman had selected as his partner in a dance Miss Mary Jerrold, our host's youngest daughter. The Doctor being " more than common tall," and the young lady being rather short, but not of very minute proportions, their combined appearance produced a somewhat ludicrous DOUGLAS JERROLD. 283 effect as they waltzed round the salon, and Jerrold, suddenly catching a glimpse of them, exclaimed, " Hollo ! there 's a mile dancing with a mile-stone ! " An interesting period in the life of Douglas Jerrold was the fiftieth anniversary of his birthday, which he resolved to cele- brate with all the honors due to such an occasion. The day was the 3d January, 1853, and Jerrold received at his dinner- table, in the Circus Road, St. John's Wood, a large number of his most intimate friends, including the proprietors and con- tributors to " Punch " Mr. Charles Knight (whom he held in very high esteem), Mr. Hepworth Dixon, Mr. E. H. Baily, R. A., the eminent sculptor, and a few others, including my- self, who were better known to friendship than to fame. Jer- rold was in remarkably good health and spirits, and treated the allusions that were made to the occasion of the meeting in atone of hilarity which rendered the question as to "ages" matter of jocular rather than sentimental import. The even- ing was indeed one of the merriest I ever passed in the society of Douglas Jerrold, and so gratified was Mr. Baily, who was the Nestor of the party being, indeed, in his seventy-fifth year that he said he should gladly commemorate the event by making a bust of Jerrold, and presenting a cast of it to every one present. The bust was executed in marble, and is now in the possession of the family, who not only regard it as one of the most poetically conceived works which modern sculpture has produced, but seldom speak of it without calling to mind the interesting occasion which gave rise to it. So admirable is it as a likeness, and so graceful as a composition, that I am constrained to say, in common with others similarly situated, that I was sadly disappointed that Mr. Baily was unable to carry out his promise to its full extent. In the month of May, 1857, Jerrold was stricken with his mortal illness ; and saddening indeed was the effect upon his club-mates and his dearest friends, as day by day they found their hopes for his recovery becoming fainter and fainter. Every conceivable attention was paid to him, both by the members of his household and by the physicians Dr. Cleve- 284 GEORGE HODDER. land, Dr. H. G. Wright, and Dr. Quain to whom his case was intrusted ; but he expired in the beginning of June. By a melancholy coincidence, I chanced to arrive at his cham- ber-door at the very moment that the family were leaving the room after seeing him breathe his last ; and Mrs. Jerrold hav- ing begged me to enter, I was much impressed by the picture that presented itself. All had quitted the room with the ex- ception of Mr. Copeland, the brother-in-law of Douglas Jer- rold, then the proprietor of the Theatre Royal, and the Royal Amphitheatre, Liverpool. That gentleman was leaning. over the body of his departed friend and relative, and looking at his countenance with the most profound attention, while he struggled in vain to conceal the grief that oppressed him. For some minutes Mr. Copeland and I remained the sole watchers over the corpse, and when, after giving vent to the feelings which literally overpowered me, I at last contrived to tear myself from the house, I could not possibly dismiss the reflection from my mind that the place which Douglas Jerrold had so many years held in my memory and esteem was never likely to be supplied. The funeral of my lamented friend took place at Norwood Cemetery, on a bright morning in the month of June, and the spot chosen for his interment was in close proximity to the grave of his boy-friend and literary associate, Laman Blan- chard. Those who were present on that mournful occasion and they were indeed numerous can never forget the ex- traordinary interest which attached to the event. Long before the time fixed for the arrival of the funeral cortege, the burial- ground was absolutely thronged with gentlemen celebrated in literature, the drama, and fine arts. Indeed, it would have been difficult to mention the name of any person well known to those three professions who was not there to take part in the generous tribute that was being paid to one who had, by the unaided force of his genius and will, successfully climbed "The iteep where Fame's proud temple shines afar." The coffin was of plain oak, and was borne upon an open car, DOUGLAS JERROLD. 285 on each side of which were the initials " D. J." In the mourn- ing coaches which followed it were seated Mr. Blanchard Jer- rold and Mr. Thomas Serle Jerrold (Douglas Jerrold's eldest and youngest sons), Mr. Copeland (his brother-in-law), Mr. Henry Mayhew (his son-in-law), and the three medical gentle- men who had attended the deceased in his last illness. The pall-bearers were Mr. Charles Dickens, Mr. W. M. Thack- eray, Mr. Charles Knight, Mr. Horace Mayhew, Mr. Mark Lemon, Mr. Monckton Milnes, M. P. (now Lord Houghton), and Mr. Bradbury (of the firm of Bradbury and Evans), all of whom wore on their arms crape rosettes embroided with the initials " D. J." As the coffin was being conveyed to the chapel, some hundreds of gentlemen followed in procession, and amongst these should be mentioned the names of John Leech, Shirley Brooks, John Tenniel, Tom Taylor, Percival Leigh, Samuel Lucas (at one period reviewer of books in the "Times"), W. Bayle Bernard, John Baldwin Buckstone, T. Sydney Cooper, R. A., George Cruikshank, Peter Cunning- ham, Augustus Egg, R. A., John Forster, James Hannay. William Hazlitt, J. A. Heraud, Charles Kenney, E. Landells, Charles Landseer, R. A., Thomas and George Landseer, E. Lloyd (the proprietor of " Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper," which bore the name of Douglas Jerrold as editor for the last five years of his life), Daniel Maclise, R. A., Kenny Meadows, John Oxenford, Sir Joseph Paxton, Albert Smith, E. M. Ward, R. A., Benjamin Webster, Erasmus Wilson, Forbes Winslow, E. Moxon, etc. A glance at these names, which form but a very small proportion of the vast assembly gathered together at the spot, will furnish a conspicuous proof of the various in- terests and pursuits represented on that sad morning ; and it may be safely affirmed that few have been the funeral cere- monies where those who attended them were influenced by feelings of more unfeigned regret than were manifested at the obsequies of Douglas Jerrold. 286 GEORGE IfODDER. THE ORIGIN OF "PUNCH." The projector of " Punch " was unquestionably Henry May- hew, and, although the fact may not be regarded by its thou- sands of readers as a matter of very grave importance, I shall offer no excuse for briefly dwelling upon it, because doubts have been expressed, not only amongst the uninformed, but amongst those who might be supposed to be acquainted with the subject, as to the individual to whom the merit is justly due. The question has repeatedly been brought upon the tapis in every-day conversation ; and it has been quite amus- ing to note the self-confident manner in which quidnuncs and that aggressive class of people who may be called the know- everything section of the community, have described circum- stantially all the particulars of the " identical meeting " at a tavern near Drury Lane, at which " Punch " was started ! The starting of " Punch " was undoubtedly the result of many meetings ; but its origin was the result of Mr. Mayhew's per- sonal cogitations, as already stated ; and, not to say it vain-glo- riously, it happened that I was the first individual to whom he mentioned the idea, simply because I was the first individual he saw (that is, in whom he could be expected to confide) on the day he disclosed it to his friends. Henry Mayhew was then (the summer of 1841) living in the neighborhood of Charing Cross ; and as I chanced to be a near neighbor of his, an arrangement had been come to by which I should visit him every morning ; and I well remember that, for several weeks, we commenced the day at an early hour, in order that we might study " Euclid " together. One morning, on entering his sitting-room, I found Mayhew in un- usually high glee (although his spirits were seldom at a low ebb), and I instinctively came to the conclusion that, as he was constantly bent upon the discovery of some "new notion," he was now about to exhibit his creative power under circum- stances of an exceptionally propitious character. " I 've a splendid idea ! " he exclaimed, with an impulsive eagerness which showed that he had been anxiously wishing for the THE ORIGIN OF "PUNCH." 287 opportunity of opening his mind upon the subject. " What, another!" I exclaimed. " Delighted to hear it ! What is it?" or words to the like effect. "A new comical periodical," said Mayhew. " You know the French ' Charivari,' don't you ? " " Yes," was the reply. " Well, my idea is to start a similar thing, called " Punch, or the London Charivari." " Good ! " said I. And we forthwith proceeded to draw up a list of the names of artists and contributors whom Mayhew suggested should be asked to associate themselves with the un- dertaking. The name of Gilbert a Beckett (an old friend and collaborateur of Mayhew's in his works of a humorous and satirical character) was the first on the list, and then followed those of Douglas Jerrold, Mark Lemon (with whom Henry Mayhew was then in daily communication), Sterling Coyne, W. H. Wills, H. P. Grattan, and others. Suddenly, he or I, or both (but it is by no means material to the issue, as the lawyers have it), remarked that there was a clever fellow rejoicing in the nont de plume of " Paul Prendergast," who had recently shown much force of humor in " The Comic Latin Grammar, and who was then engaged in writing " The Comic English Grammar." To ascertain his baptismal name was the first step necessary; and we soon found it to be Percival Leigh, and that he was living in Chapel Place, Oxford Street. It svas arranged that Mayhew should write to Douglas Jer- rold, and that I should assist him in obtaining the cooperation of the chosen writers and artists to whom we could insure easy access ; but, above all, I was to seek out " Paul Prendergast," and offer him such terms as might tempt him to enroll his name among the contributors. I had no difficulty in seeing him (though he was busily occupied at his desk at the time), and on my telling him the object of my mission, he very pru- dently said he had certain scruples about embarking in a pub- lication without knowing something of its characteristics, and that he should be glad to have an opportunity of glancing at a copy before he could undertake to write for it. It could not be disputed that this somewhat uncommon piece of caution was perfectly reasonable ; but when I took my departure I felt fully 288 GEORGE HO ODER. assured in my own mind that, as Mr. Leigh's reputation was yet to be established, and as his literary capacity appeared especially to indicate a quaintness of humor which must find a convenient ^outlet for its expression, his name would ere long be included among the adherents to " Punch." Meanwhile, he conferred with his friend John Leech, who had illustrated his " Comic Latin Grammar," and the result was that " Paul Prendergast " and John Leech made their joint obeisance to Mr. Punch in the fourth number of his work, in an article called " Foreign Affairs " the letter-press by the former, and the pictorial design (representing types of continental character, as seen in the neighborhood of Leicester Square) by the latter. But our immediate business is with the initiation of the weekly periodical, some particulars of the birth of which can- not be otherwise than interesting, if not important, to a large portion of the public, hundreds of whom have been familiar with the work from its very commencement. Not much time had elapsed ere all preliminaries were settled, and the contents of the first number agreed upon. Archibald Henning (l n g since passed away) was to be the chief illustrator, and Eben- ezer Landells was to have the superintendence of the engrav- ing department. The principal contributors to No. i were Gilbert a Beckett, Sterling Coyne, W. H. Wills, H. P. Grat- tan, Mark Lemon, and Henry Mayhew, the last two being joint editors. The frontispiece on the " wrapper " was drawn by Henning, as was also the large cartoon (which, as it was the period of a general election, represented a group of " Candi- dates under different heads"); and the miscellaneous " small cuts " were executed, if I remember rightly, by an artist named Brine. The printer was Mr. Joseph Last, then of Crane Court, Fleet Street, who, together with Mr. Landells, was a share- holder in the speculation. The original prospectus of the work was as follows : THE ORIGIN Of- " PUNCH." 289 WILL BE OUT SHORTLY, 1 And continued every Saturday, (Sizt of the Atktnaum,) PRICE THREEPENCE. A NEW WORK OF WHIT AND WHIM, Embellished with Cuts and Caricatures. TO BE CALLED PUNCH; OR, THE LONDON CHARIVARI. This Guffawgraph is intended to form a refuge for destitute wit an asylum for the thousands of orphan jokes the superannuated Joe Millers the millions of perishing puns, which are now wandering about without so much as a shelf to rest upon ! It will also be devoted to the emancipation of the Jew d'esprits all over the world, and the naturalization of those alien JONATHANS, whose adherence to the truth has forced them to emigrate from their native land. The proprietors feel that the " eyes of Europe " will be upon them that every visible animal, like our political patriots, will look out for No. I. " PUNCH " will have the honor of making his first appear- ance in this character on SATURDAY, JULY 17, 1841 ; and will continue, from week to week, to offer to the world all the fun to be found in his own and the following heads : POLITICS. " Punch " has no party prejudices ; he is Con- servative in his opposition to Fantoccini and political puppets, but a progressive Whig in his love of small change and a re- peal of the union with public Judies. 1 Under this line was a small wood-cut, representing Lord Melbourne, Lord John Russell, and Lord Morpeth, who were then in office (the first being Prime Minister), but were expected to be " out shortly." 19 GEORGE HODDEK. FASHIONS. This department will be conducted by Mrs. J. Punch, whose extensive acquaintance with the elite of the areas will enable her to furnish the earliest information of the Movements of the Fashionable World. POLICE. This portion of the work will be under the direc- tion of an experienced nobleman a regular attendant at the various offices who, from a strong attachment to " Punch," will be in a position to supply exclusive reports. REVIEWS. To render this branch of the periodical as perfect as possible, arrangements have been made to secure the critical assistance of John Ketch, Esq., who, from tlie mildness of the law, and the congenial character of modern lit- erature, with his early associations, has been induced to un- dertake its execution. FINE ARTS. Anxious to do justice to native talent, the criticisms upon Painting, Sculpture, etc., will be confided to one of the most popular artists of the day " Punch's " own immortal scene-painter. Music AND THE DRAMA. These will be amongst the most prominent features of the work. The Musical Notices will be written by the gentleman who plays the mouth-organ, assisted by the professors of the drum and cymbals. " Punch " himself \\\\\ DO the Drama. SPORTING. A prophet has been engaged ! He will fore- tell not only the winners of each race, but also the " VATES " l and colors of the riders. The FACETIAE will be contributed by the members of the following learned bodies : The Court of Common Council and the Zoological Society. The Temperance Association and the Waterproofing Com- pany. The College of Physicians and the Highgate Cemetery. The Dramatic Authors' and the Mendicity Societies. The Beefsteak Club and the Anti-Dry Rot Company. 1 The name assumed by a Mr. Harrison, at that time the sporting correspondent of* daily paper. THE ORIGIN Ofi' "PUNCH." 291 Together with original humorous and satirical articles, in verse and prose, from all the FUNNY DOGS WITH COMIC TALES. LONDON : PUBLISHED FOR THE PROPRIETORS BY R. BRYANT, AT " PUNCH'S " OFFICE, 3, WELLINGTON STREET, STRAND ; Where all communications (prepaid) for the Editors shotild be forwarded. At length came the day of publication. It was Saturday, July 17, 1841 (for the system of issuing periodical works in an- ticipation of the dafe was not then the prevailing practice as it has since become), and Mr. Mayhew's thoughts and atten- tion were directed, with inevitable anxiety, to the publishing office, from a desire to ascertain the progress of the " circula- tion." If the aforesaid Mr. Bryant be still extant, he will, doubtless, remember how frequently and eagerly Mr. May- hew, or myself sometimes both applied to him to know the state of affairs in his all-important department. In short, it may be frankly stated that Mayhew and I walked up and down that part of the Strand leading from Wellington Street towards St. Clement's Church the greater part of the after- noon, discussing the prospects of the new undertaking, and the former congratulating himself upon the success it was likely to achieve, as we continued to obtain fresh intelligence in respect to the number of copies disposed of. As to the ultimate success of the work, it is only necessary for me to say that it struggled on manfully and cleverly for many months (its momentary dissolution being daily pre- dicted by alarmists and " Job's-comforters"), but from the unfortunate obstacle caused by the want of capital, its pro- moters fell into difficulties, and, in order to save it from bank- ruptcy, the property was disposed of to Messrs. Bradbury and Evans, the present printers and proprietors, for a sum little exceeding the amount of Mr. Punch's liabilities, Mr. Landells still holding a small share, which, however, was soon bought up by the new authorities, and Mr. Lemon retaining the ed- 2Q2 GEORGE HODDER. itorship, with Mr. Mayhew (who had yielded that post to him) as his auxiliary in the discharge of the somewhat essential duty of " thinking and suggesting." From the above statement it is pretty clear that " Punch " was not projected at a tavern near Drury Lane Theatre, or at a tavern near anywhere else : that nobody but Henry May- hew was the actual originator of it ; and that the earliest con- tributors to it did not comprise one half, or even one fourth, of the names which those, who delight in relating all they do not know, have been pleased to number among its fathers and godfathers and its multitude of literary offspring. The following lines, which appeared in "^unch " in the month of January, 1843, and were written by Percival Leigh, are amply sufficient to indicate, at least to those who know something of Greek and Latin, the locality of Mr. Punch's symposia, and even the name of the hostelry where they took place : SODALITAS PUNCHICA, SEU CLUBBUS NOSTER. POEMA MACARONICUM, VEL ANGLO-GK^CO-CANINO-LATINUM. Sum quidam /0//y dags, Saturday qui nocte frequentant Antiqui "irt^avov, qui Mat prope mcema I) run, BovAopcfot saccos cum frog distendere rather, Indulgere jocis, necnon Baccho atque tobacco ; In mundo tales non/elloivt ante fuere: Magnammum herouni celebrabo carmine laudes, Posthac illustres ut vivant omne per zvum. Altior cV STaixji locus est, snug easy recessus ; Hie quarttrt fixeie suos, conclave teneiit hie. Hie dapidus cumulata gemit m.ikogany mensa. Pascuntur variis ; roast beef cum pudtiing of Yorkshire Interdum ; sometimes epulis queis nomen agrestes Boiled leg of mutton and trimmings imposuere. Hie double A'haurit, Barclay and Perkins' i Hie ; Nee desunt mixtis qui sese polibus implent Quos "offnojf" 1 omnes ccnsuescunt dicere waiters. Postquam exempta fames grubbp, mappatque remote, Pro cyathii clamant, qui goes sermnne vocantur Vulgari. of wkisky, rum, fin, and brandy, ed et sunt ; Coelicolum qui fiincfi (" eiroribui absque *') liquore Gaudent ; et pauci vino quod prxbet Oporto, Quod certi Uack-i'.raf dicuut MitJrnomine Grati. Hauttibu* his////, communit et adjiciuntur Skaf, Reditut, Cubz Silvx. Ckeroots et Havynn*. THE ORIGIN OP "PUNCH." 293 " Festinate viri," bawls one, " nunc ludile verbis: " Alter " Foemineum Sexum" propinat, et " Hurrah .'" Respondent, po'-haits: cor.cusso plausibus nmni. Nunc similes vcteri versantur ivinky lepores Omnibus, exiguus nee, Jingo teste, tumultus Exoritur, quoniam summa nituntur opum vi Rivales aAAot tt>p-sawyeis (/nfxci-ai aAAun'. Est genus ingenui lusfls quod nomine Burk.ug Notum est, vel Burko, qui claudere ctincta solebat Ora olim eloquio, pugi i vel lorsitan isto Deaf Un, vel Burko pueros qui Burxit ; at illud Plausibus ant fictis joculatorem excipiendo, Atit bothering aliquid referentem, constat, amicum. Hoc pai vo fxcutitur multus conamine risus, Nomina magnorum referam uunc pauca virorum : Marcus et Hemicus, 1 I'uHthi duo lumina magru, (H'Juicks hie Aristotelem, Sophoclem brown uialloppeth ille) In clubbum adveniunt ; Juvenalis * et advenit acer Qui veiuti I'addyuiliackfor love contundit amicos ; Ingentesque animos non parvo in corpora versans Tullius: 3 et Matutini qui Sidus Heraldi est Georgms ;* Alberlus Magnus ; B vesterque Poeta." Prsesldet his Nesior, 7 qui tempore vixit in Anna?, Creditur et vidisse Japhet, non youngster at ullus In chaff, audaci certamine, vinceret ilium. Ille jocos mollit dictis, et pectora mulcet, Ni facial, tumblers, etgoes, et pocula pewier, Q'.iippe aliorum alii jactarent forsan in aures. An important accession to the pictorial strength of " Punch " was realized in the introduction of Mr. H. G. Hine, who made his entree in the pages of that periodical in the month of September following the date of its commencement. Mr. Hine had been known to Mr. Landells through his illustrations to the " Cosmorama " and other publications ; and although he was professedly a landscape-painter, and had no more ex- perience of drawing on the wood than a stanch teetotaler has of drawing wine from it, he was at once thrust into a prominent position as an artistic contributor to " Punch's" columns. His chief speciality consisted in the grotesque ideas which he de- veloped, with much facility, in the smr.ll cuts ; but he soon 1 Mark Lemon and Henry Mayhew. J Douglas Jerrold. s J H. Tu'ly, the composer. 4 G. Hodder (at that time connected with the Morning H -raid newspaper). * Albert Smith. Percival Leigh. 7 Henry Baylis. 294 GEORGE HODDEK. proved himself capable of greater things, and it is not a little remarkable that he executed the whole of the illustrations to " Punch's " first Almanack, with the exception of the border pieces, which were the work of Hablot Browne. Mr. Hine has long since abandoned the duties of a comic artist for the more congenial pursuit to which he originally intended to devote his talents, and he is now a conspicuous member of the Institute of Painters in Water Colors his charming rep- resentations of downy scenery, dotted with sheep, and re- lieved by little villages which would seem to have dropped into pleasant valleys designed expressly to receive them, be- ing always amongst the chief attractions of its annual ex- hibitions. Mr. Birket Foster, another "knight of the brush," rather than of the pencil, also made certain contributions though not many to the early numbers of " Punch ; " but they were of a character which showed him to be eminently wwfitted for the task of delineating facetia. He was, however, a pupil of Mr. Landells at the time, and it was natural that the latter should test his qualities by every means at his command ; but Mr. Foster did not suffer many years to elapse ere his name became famous in a very different branch of art to that which " Punch " would have marked out for him, and I have referred to him in this place merely by way of showing the diversity of artists whose works have ornamented the pages of the favorite periodical. Among the earlier illustrators, besides those al- ready mentioned, were Alfred Crowquill, Newman, Lee, Ha- merton, John Gilbert, William Harvey, and Kenny Meadows. The first frontispiece, as I have stated, was by Archibald Hen- ning ; the second was by Harvey ; the third by Gilbert ; the fourth by Meadows the practice during the first few years of " Punch's " existence being to commence a new wrapper with each succeeding volume ; until at length Richard Doyle ap- peared upon the scene, and it was thought that the grotesque, yet graceful contribution which he supplied was far too good to be thrown aside at the expiration of six months. The pro- prietors of the work, therefore, very wisely caused Mr. Doyle's THE ORIGIN OF " PUNCH:' 1 295 frontispiece to be stereotyped, and it now remains, with cer- tain modifications, the permanent tableau on the outer covering of "Punch." It will be seen from the above enumeration of names that, in the early stages of Mr. Punch's career, he gave encourage- ment to artists who evinced no qualifications for humorous art ; but the frequent changes he made led to a state of things which showed that he was only desirous to place the right man in the right place. It certainly could not be said that William Harvey, the graceful and poetical illustrator of " Knight's Pictorial Shakspere," was ever intended for a " Punch " artist ; and as to John Gilbert (also an able illus- trator of the great poet), so impressed was Douglas Jerrold with the solid character of his academic forms and imposing outlines that he exclaimed, " We don't want Rubens on ' Punch ' ! " When Mr. Tenniel first associated himself with the popular periodical, it was generally thought that his abil- ities were of too classic an order for the duty he had under- taken ; for it will be remembered that this gentleman executed one of the cartoons for the Houses of Parliament (an allegory of Justice), which gained a prize at the exhibition in Westmin- ster Hall ; and that he once represented on the walls of the Royal Academy a striking picture of " Adam and Eve in Para- dise." Such un-Ptenc/t-]\ke subjects as these, and such un- Leech-\\\i^ treatment as they required and received, were by no means suggestive of comicality in the artist ; but Mr. Ten- niel had too much confidence in the pictorial strength he pos- sessed to feel that he need limit himself to a particular sphere ; and hence he persevered with his pencil, until in time he became inoculated, as it were, with a sense of humor which has not been subordinate to, but has served to stimulate, his graphic powers. It may be remarked that Mr. Tenniel's in- troduction to " Punch " was in consequence of Mr. Doyle's withdrawal from the scene of his many successes ; and it is" no secret to state that, by the course adopted by the latter, he sacrificed a handsome income, rather than remain attached to a publication which had satirized the religion he professed. 296 GEORGE HODDER. HORACE MAYHEW. As I have incidentally mentioned the name of Horace May- hew, I may here state that I made his acquaintance, through his brother Henry, some two years before the date of " Punch's " birth, at which latter period he was absent on a tour in Germany. It chanced, however, that he returned to this country before the first volume was completed, and in the course of a week or two he becartie an acknowledged contrib- utor to the work, and was afterwards appointed sub-editor. That appointment he held for some considerable time, and in the discharge of his duties was a medium of communication between the writers and the artists ; but the office was event- ually abolished as unnecessary, and has never since been filled up. Horace Mayhew's close connection with " Punch " brought him to educate his mind for the particular form of literature to which that periodical belongs, and he was not only the suggester of many subjects (as, for example, " The Female Robinson Crusoe ") which were handed over to the treatment of others more experienced than himself, but was the author of several popular works of a humorous kind, includ- ing " Letters Left at the Pastrycook's ; " " Model Men," " Model Women," and " Model Couples ; " " Change for a Shilling," etc., together with a remarkable piece of graphic drollery, illustrating " The Tooth-ache " in a variety of stages, from the commencement of the disorder to the final extraction of the offending member. This was published in the elongated .roller form, and the designs, as well as the descriptive letter- press at the foot of each, were supplied by the author himself ; but were afterwards drawn upon wood by the great George Cruikshank, who, however, declared that his rendering of the subject, although it might be somewhat more artistic, rather detracted than otherwise from the singular merit of the orig- inals. As I have been from the period of my first knowledge of Horace Mayhew on terms of uninterrupted friendship with him, it would not befit me to descant upon his characteristics, or to recall a succession of incidents connected with our con- stant intercourse HORACE MAYHEW. 297 " What things have we seen Done at the ! heard words that have been t So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life ! " Mayhew will not fail to remember how he and I, as "the boys" (so called) of the party assembled round Mr. Punch's dinner- table at the Saturday gatherings, before they were con- fined exclusively to the staff of accredited contributors, were frequently among the last to quit the agreeable scene ; and how upon taking our departure, with something like a feeling of self-reproach at having been tempted to remain beyond the hour when Prudence usually goes to bed, Douglas Jerrold has consoled us with a favorite quotation of his from Gainsborough, " Never mind. ' We are all going to heaven, and Vandyck is of the company ; ' " * and how, when dining with Jerrold at his house on the following day, and reminding him of some of the flashes which his wit had sent forth, the latter has exclaimed, laughingly and half-incredulously, " No ! did I say that ? " But I will refrain from putting to the test Horace Mayhew's remembrance of the " things we have seen," lest the retro- spect should bring with it the reflection that they and the actors in them have too long passed away ; and moreover I might, peradventure, advert to subjects on which his impres- sions might not entirely harmonize with my own. I cannot, however, let this opportunity pass without recording my un- feigned sense of his kindly and affectionate nature, and of the esteem in which he is held by all who know him. In proof of his friendly disposition, I will here quote from a letter which I received from him on the occasion of that happy event of my life which has already been mentioned here : " I have sent to your house two little presents for Agnes if she will be kind enough to accept them. Assure her they are sent with the strongest wishes for her future happiness. 1 An exclamation made by Gainsborough on his death-bed, when he was visited bf Sir Joshua Reynolds. 298 GEORGE HODDEK. " She must look upon the lamp [a very handsome specimen of the ' moderator '] as an emblem of the light and cheerful- ness that she will shed (with proper trimming, of course) around you ; and the little Punch and Judy figures she must take up kindly in her arms as pretty images of affection from " Her sincere friend." THE MAYHEW FAMILY. I think this may be regarded as a fitting opportunity for the introduction of the names of three other members of the May- hew family Edward, Julius, and Augustus ; and I may here at once state that of the four brothers to whom I have now al- luded, those who have appeared before the public under the designation of " The Brothers Mayhew," are Henry and Au- gustus, who were the joint authors of "The Good Genius that turned Everything into Gold," " The Magic of Kindness," " The Greatest Plague of Life," " The Adventures of a Young Monkey," etc. Edward, the eldest of the four, who in the early part of his career achieved many successes by his dra- matic productions and by his general contributions to period- ical literature, was for some time the " Fine Arts " critic of the " Morning Post," and was in other ways associated with jour- nalism. Finding, however, that the pursuit of letters was not calculated to secure him that permanent position for public usefulness to which he aspired, he formed the manly resolu- tion, at the age of thirty-five, to study the profession of a vet- erinary surgeon, and in the course of an almost incredibly short space of time, he obtained a professorship at the col- lege. Having thus acquired a new experience, and having still retained his literary taste, he published a little work on the " Management of the Dog," which soon became a prac- tical text-book. In process of time he brought his newly-ac- quired knowledge to bear upon the treatment of the horse ; and issued an elaborate work, called "The Illustrated Horse- Doctor," which was followed by a kindred production, under the title of " The Illustrated Stable Management." Both these books proved him to be a most valuable authority upon THE MA YHEW FA MIL Y. 299 the habits, diseases, and characteristics of horses ; and it is not a little remarkable that during the time he was preparing them, and for some years afterwards, he was confined to his room by a paralytic affection which rendered it impossible for him to walk ; but his energy and perseverance never forsook him, and so well had he stored his mind with all that was essential to him in the task he had undertaken, that he supplied the great majority of the illustrations, as well as the letter-press. It happened, by the purest accident, that " The Illustrated Stable Management " came into my hands for review in a morning newspaper, and Edward Mayhew, learning from one of his brothers that the notice of the book was written by me, addressed me a letter, in which he said " I know how much I am indebted to your good feeling for the sentiments you have expressed concerning my book, and as an acknowledgment of the obligation, which, believe me, I am sincerely alive to, will you allow me to offer you the in- closed note ? 1 I should not have imposed on you the trouble which it necessitates ; but being absent from London, circum - stances compel me to trespass on your good-nature. I feel, while making this offer, I am presenting you with that which must be of small value to you ; but will you kindly accept the gift as an emblem of gratitude ? " I have a pretty place down here, .in a pretty spot. 2 Tr.iins run cheap during the autumn. Should you ever feel disposed for a week of cool, moist atmosphere, pray remember that both I and Mrs. Mayhew will endeavor to make you comfort- able." Poor Edward Mayhew ! His physical strength was origi- nally proportionate to his mental power ; but for a period of fifteen years he was compelled to fight the battle of life with brains alone ; and this he did with such success that he has 1 To Messrs. Allen, the publishers, requesting them to hand me a copy of the work. * The neighborhood of Torquay. 300 GEORGE HODDER. gained for himself an enduring name. The circumstances of his death were such as to show that it indeed behooves us "to bear the ills we have " with philosophic resignation. As al- ready observed, Edward Mayhew was deprived of the use of his limbs for fifteen years. At the expiration of that time he suddenly rose from his chair, the wheels of which had afforded him the only means of locomotion, and walked ! The effect upon the nervous system was apparently too powerful for a constitution weakened by the very severe trial to which it had been subjected ; and in the course of ten days he ceased to be! In the designs for an improved form of stables, several of which are included in the " Illustrated Stable Management," Edward Mayhew was ably assisted by his brother Julius, who, being educated for an architect, and having always cultivated a taste for art, especially in regard to those principles which demand a perfect knowledge of perspective, was essentially qualified for the task ; and a reference to the book will at once testify that, although never assuming the dignity of a pro- fessed artist, he skillfully and effectually carried out the views and intentions of the author. As, however, he has never aspired to be a "public character," I forbear to give to his name a prominence which I know he would immediately re- pel ; and yet I must allude, for one instant only, to the pleas- ure I have many a time derived from his society on certain "tramping' expeditions with him and his brother Augustus, when, in our walks through the country, we have left the cares of the world behind us, and have made ourselves the happiest of mortals, by appreciating to the full the humblest means of enjoyment. As to Augustus Mayhew (always familiarly called " Gus "), the youngest branch of the tree, one would suppose that he never knew what care was, so jocund and light-hearted is he invariably found to be in the midst of his friends. He can be serious, very serious, when any strong sense of injury, either to himself or to an esteemed companion, or to any social cause which he has warmly espoused, has t.ikc-n firm possession of THE MAYHEW FAMILY. 30 1 him ; but his unbounded good-humor and world-defying friend- liness have inevitably pointed him out as a man to whom For- tune's buffets and rewards would seem to be alike indifferent. As an artist, he is little known, though in his delineations of every-day scenes and characters he has betrayed much graphic and perceptive power, but as a writer he has abundantly shown, in his " Faces for Fortunes," his " Finest Girl in Bloomsbury," and " Paved with Gold " (commenced in the form of a serial, in conjunction with his brother Henry, who, however, retired from it after the publication of the first two or three numbers), that he unites the elements of .a graceful fancy and a broad sense of the ludicrous in a manner which is not often seen. But it is in society rather than in books that his light shines brightest (as has been said of many men of literary distinction), for in the task of writing he is necessarily under some restraint, lest ideas should find their way to the public eye which are only adapted to the private ear ; whereas in conversation he is not compelled to " weigh his words be- fore he gives them breath ; " and hence he is enabled to in- dulge those peculiar modes of thought and expression which are amusing from their reckless originality, as well as from the keen insight they display into the follies and impostures of so- ciety. The fertility of his invention in the use of adjectives and similes, to give breadth and color to a daring conception, is conspicuously seen in his account of a prize-fight in " Paved with Gold," which contains a sufficient number of suggestions to enable a writer in " Bell's Life " to improve and strengthen his eccentric vocabulary. As an example of the grotesque roughness of his humor I may mention an incident which has often been alluded to by those who witnessed it, as affording a remarkable specimen of his peculiar characteristics. An al- tercation had occurred between Augustus's friends and an in- solent, domineering sort of fellow, who had threatened per- sonal chastisement to his opponent, and seemed inclined to put his resolve into execution ; whereupon the stalwart May- hew, advancing towards him with clenched fist and distend- ing his capacious form to its fullest proportions, exclaimed. 302 GEORGE HODDEK. ** By gad, s!r ! dare to lay one finger upon my friend, and in five minutes your wife and children shall not know you ! "' Whether or not the individual whose facial outlines were thus vehemently menaced was blessed with a wife and children it did not appear, nor was it a question which entered for one moment into Augustus's consideration, but the magnanimous character of the phrase had the desired effect, for the lion immediately ceased roaring, and the object of his wrath went away with a whole skin. Before quitting this part of my recollections I should state, il it be npt already understood, that to Henry Mayhew I am indebted for my first introduction to the society of men of letters ; and that long since I became known to him, a change has come over his literary aspirations ; for the ability he then displayed, as a writer of farces, and as a contributor to comic periodicals, he subsequently diverted into a widely different channel. This change has been exemplified in a series of lectures, called " What to Teach, and How to Teach it," and in his two valuable books, " London Labor and the London Poor," and "The Great World of London" works wlm h have rendered more lasting service to the community and to himself than could possibly be achieved by any exercise of fun or fiction, even from the most fertile brain. I am sure I need offer no apology for the allusions I have made to the Mayhew family (a family better known to fame than many writers of loftier pretensions), for they are well aware of the kindly spirit in which every word is intended ; and this volume, however imperfect it may be, would be infi- nitely more so were 1 to omit all mention of such intimate allies and friends. It is interesting to note, in following the gradations of time, what singular transitions have taken place in the minds of men devoted to literary pursuits. When Douglas Jerrold wrote " Black-eyed Susan," it would have been difficult to believe that he would ever become the editor of a popular journal, such as " Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper " (a position which he occupied for five years, to the period of his death) ; JOHN LEECH. 303 or when Thackeray penned " The Yellow-plush Correspond- ence " in " Eraser's Magazine," that he would in after-days " witch the world " as the writer of " Esmond," and " The Newcomes ; " or when Henry Mayhew produced his farce of " The Wandering Minstrel," that he would eventually make himself known as an authority on social statistics, as he has done in his " London Labor and the London Poor." JOHN LEECH. Valuable contributors to the amusements of the table, as they were to the pages of " Punch," were John Leech, Albert Smith, and Kenny Meadows the two former having been on terms of intimacy long before that work was established ; but my desire is not so much to speak of them in reference to their doings for " Punch," as to indicate what manner of men they were in relation to the " small sweet courtesies " of life. It was through John Leech's friendly interces'sion that I first became a contributor to " Bentley's Miscellany " (in the year 1848), to which publication he was then a fixed adherent. I had written a little story, and on my submitting it to Leech's opinion, he was kind enough to tell the authorities, with the utmost earnestness, that, if the paper should be accepted, he would gladly illustrate it. The result was that it was pub- lished, with an admirable etching by Leech, and was followed the next month by another, which also was touched by his artistic hand. Leech's friendliness and good-fellowship were well known to those who understood his reserved, unostenta- tious nature ; and having adduced one proof of those quali- ties in him, I may fitly mention another, though I honestly wish it had reference to somebody other than my perpetually recurring self. In the illustrations to a little book, called " Sketches of Life and Character, taken at the Police Court, Bow Street," he rendered me most essential service by the exercise of his inimitable pencil ; and I know that, in like manner, he lent a " helping hand " (in more than one sense of the term) to many a young aspirant in whom he felt an interest, and who appreciated the importance of securing the aid of his valuable name. 304 GEORGE HODDKK. In the " Punch " times to which I have adverted, it was the habit of Albert Smith to call him familiarly and brusquely "Jack," while his still more intimate friend, Percival Leigli, addressed him as "John," or "Leech," and this was so re- pugnant to Jerrold's taste and feelings, that at length he exploded with the following pertinent query : " Leech, how long is it necessary for a man to know you before he may call you Jack f " No reply ; but if my recollection serves me, "Jack " was sounded in our ears much less frequently on sub- sequent occasions. Among the many little domestic gatherings to which the meetings of the " Punch " contributors gave rise, none were more agreeable or more memorable than the dinner-parties at John Leech's house first at Powis Place, and afterwards at Notting Hill and Kensington. In one notable instance within my recollection, Leech had invited some ten or more gentle- men, consisting chiefly of his fellow-laborers in the establish- ment of Mr. Punch, to dine with him in Powis Place, and he had engaged for the occasion the services of an extra attend- ant, whose ordinary occupation was not that of the traditional " greengrocer," but that of a parish clerk. The guests were assembled in the drawing-room, selon le regtt, preparatory to the banquet ; and it was at length observed that there was an unusual delay in announcing the dinner. This was all the more noticeable, because John Leech's household arrange- ments were generally conducted upon the best principles of order and regularity ; and the guests were one and all in such high intellectual vigor, and so well prepared to enjoy " the feast of reason and the flow of soul," that they began to fear they should exhaust their stock of mental ammunition in a succession of skirmishes before the evening's war began. Whether the parish clerk had disconcerted the cook by the solemnity of his presence, or whether the latter, being of a serious turn of mind, was afflicted with a tender sensation which upset her culinary calculations, it was never clearly as- certained ; but there could be little doubt that there was something not quite right between the kitchen and the dining- SIR HENRY WEBB, 305 room. After a somewhat significant pause, however, a solemn figure, attired in black, and wearing a white neckerchief of most orthodox character and proportions (in a clerical point of view), appeared in the room, and in a style of elocution which would have well befitted his calling in the church, gave the welcome announcement, " The dinner is on the table ! " "Amen!" cried the assembled guests, with corresponding solemnity ; and one and all descended to the dining-room, tittering at the comically doleful manner in which so impor- tant a preliminary to an enlivening entertainment had been carried into effect. John Leech possessed among his many excellent qualities, that of a fine bass voice ; and the gentlemen of the " Punch " conclave will remember how often, in the midst of their rejoic- ings, he diverted their thoughts from the humorous to matters of more serious moment, by singing Barry Cornwall's song, " King Death was a rare old fellow." On one occasion, when he had sung this song with even more than his usual vigor, Douglas Jerrold exclaimed, " I say, Leech, if you had the same opportunity of exercising your voice as you have of using your pencil, how it would draw ! " SIR HENRY WEBB. John Leech used to tell an amusing anecdote of Sir Henry Webb, whose tall military figure and aristocratic head were at one time as familiar in the stalls of the theatre, especially on " first nights," as were the rubicund countenances of Lord Adolphus Fitzclarence and the late Sir George Wombwell in the omnibus-box at the Italian Opera House in the Hay- market. Some one had informed Sir Henry that a terrible murder had just taken place in the metropolis, and that the culprit had not yet been apprehended. Sir Henry appeared, or affected to be, deeply interested in the matter ; and at once proceeded to make inquiries, his deep, heavy voice giving due solemnity to the questions he put. " Dear me ! another mur- der ! " he exclaimed ; " and what sort of murder ? " Answer "A poor girl shot by her sweetheart. " Dear me ! dear 20 306 GEORGE HODDEK. me ! " said the distressed gentleman. " Girl shot by her sweetheart ! Dreadful ! dreadful ! And when did it take place?" Answer "Yesterday morning." Sir Henry " God bless me ! Yesterday morning ! Is it possible ! " Answer " True ; the girl was murdered yesterday morning, and by a fellow who was supposed to be her lover." Sir Henry " Dear me ! dear me ! very shocking, indeed ! And at what time yesterday morning ? " Answer " Between six and seven o'clock." Sir Henry "Gracious goodness! Be- tween six and seven o'clock ! What an early hour ! Very awful ! very awful ! And what was the cause of the murder ? ' Answer " Jealousy." Sir Henry " Jealousy ! Heaven defend us ! Horrible indeed ! Jealousy ! And what was the girl's name ? " Answer " Martha Jones." Sir Henry " Dear me ! dear me ! Martha Jones ! More and more shocking ! And the murderer, what was his name ? " An- swer " Philip Brown." Sir Henry " Philip Brown ! God bless me ! Philip Brown ! this is bad indeed ! Well, well, well ! Martha Jones shot by Philip Brown ! And where was the murder committed?" Answer "In Rosamond Street, Clerkenwell." Sir Henry "Great Heavens ! In Rosamond Street, Clerkenwell ! How very extraordinary ! God bless me ! In Rosamond Street, Clerkenwell ! Then -we must bear it as well as ive can ! " The locality was too much for his weak nerves ; but Sir Henry partook of a grand supper immediately afterwards, and on the following morning he had forgotten all about poor Martha Jones and Rosamond Street, Clerken- well. ALBERT SMITH. Albert Smith's connection with " Punch " arose from the fact of his being known as a successful writer in a comic pe- riodical, called the " Cosmorama," then in course of publica- tion under the auspices of Mr. Last, the printer ; and his first contributions to the new work consisted of "The Physiology of the London Medical Student " (which, however, had already been written, in brief, by Paul Prendergast, in " The Heads of the People "). He continued for a long time to be a zealous ALBERT SMITH. 307 and valuable member of the literary staff, and certainly wrote many of the most entertaining descriptions of English social life which appeared in " Punch's " columns at a period when the contents were better adapted to the million than they have been in later days. But it was more particularly in regard to the " Illuminated Magazine " and " Bentley's Miscellany " that I came in contact with Albert Smith, and he was always found to be a writer on whose promises editors and publishers could implicitly rely. He was a most frank and agreeable companion among those whose idiosyncrasies he relished ; and the following letters will show that he could be as kind and friendly as he was frank and cheerful. The first refers to the period when I was about to visit Paris at the time of the revolution, and Albert Smith had promised to get me a letter of introduction from Charles Kenney to Jules Janin, the dra- matic feuilletoniste of the "Journal des De"bats ; " the second is an answer to a note I had sent him, asking him to contrib- ute an article to, I think, the " Illuminated Magazine," upon the subject of Chamouni, which then occupied a great deal of his time ; and the ostensible object of the third (addressed to me when I was at Boulogne) was to express his regret that he could not give me an opportunity of supplying one of the pa- pers to " Gavarni in London," an ephemeral affair, of which he was the editor. " MY DEAR GEORGE, In case I do not see you, I inclose Kenney's letter of introduction (for you) to Jules Janin. I think the number is 20 [Rue Vaugirard], but if not, any one in the neighborhood will tell you. It is close to the Odeon, and near my old home, ' en dtudiant. 1 Now to my own business. I have put in a letter for Markwell, 1 which you will perhaps be good enough to give him ; and also a copy of ' Tadpole ; ' and a letter I will thank you very much to deliver. The family live at Capecure, just over the bridge. You cross the bridge, turn to the right, and then it is the second house 1 William Markwell, a much respected wine merchant, and formerly well known for the interest he took in dramatic literature. 308 GEORGE" HODDER. to your left. Altogether it is not five minutes from the Hotel du Nord. I hope the book will not cumber your carpet-bag. If they should say anything at the Douane (which they will not), show them the writing on the title-page, and say it is not a new one that will be enough. I hope you will have a jolly time, singing ' Mourir pour la Patrie.' " Yours always, " ALBERT SMITH." " Your letter about Chamouni followed me to all sorts of places. I was, however, too much occupied with collecting matter for my ' Mont Blanc ' book, to undertake anything else. " We had great fun, and the inundation caused much excite- ment. I suppose you saw Russell's account of it in the ' Times.' In a hurry, yours always, "ALBERT SMITH." " I wish we had been nearer to one another, as I could to- day have put one of the Gavarni papers into your hands. But the next number winds up the work ; and he is such a queer customer that I never know until the last minute what subjects he has fixed upon, and then everything has to be scrambled up by whoever I can put my hand upon. I shall be heartily glad to wash my hands of it. We somewhat envy you at Boulogne. London is miserably dull just now, and everything flat as ditch-water, including, I am sorry to say, books. I have kept back my next ' Act ' till December, things were selling so badly. " I have a slight notion of going into farming ! ! Don't laugh and with Joe ! ! ! * Don't laugh again not believing in literature as a permanency. We think of renting a cheap slip of Jane C 's land, at Hill Park, and building pig- styes, keeping fowls, etc. I don't mean, of course, to give up London, or rush into any heavy agricultural speculations, but I think we shall be able to turn a few coppers in the course of 1 Joseph Robins, the now popular comedian, but in those days a gentleman enjoy- ing more leisure than employment. ALBERT SMITH. 309 the year at a small risk. I would sooner make a pound by selling a porker than write a page of ' Bentley.' " Last night I met Thackeray at the Cyder Cellars, and we stayed there until three in the morning. He is a very jolly fellow, and no ' High Art ' about him. " Old Brough has bought the ' Man in the Moon ' of In- gram ; and Angus 1 has a serial out on the ist a heavy, melodramatic, go-ahead story. Horace Mayhevv is in the agonies of the ' Almanack,' 2 in which I have been helping him. It is an open opposition to ' Punch's Pocket-Book.' I wish they could get it out first. " Let us have a line now and then, when you have a chance ; and believe me, with best regards to all friends." .... In one of the above letters it will be seen that Albert Smith speaks of " envying me at Boulogne ; " and I am thus re- minded that some of my most agreeable reminiscences of him revert to a time when he and his brother Arthur, and Joseph Robins, were enjoying together a few weeks' stay in that town. Being by good luck on a visit there myself at the same mo- ment, I saw Smith and his two companions daily ; and rather than mingle with the noise and confusion of that restless watering-place, we preferred an exclusive diversion of our own. This consisted in our meeting on the sands in the morning, and paddling to one of the little villages which lie along that part of the coast. This was Albert Smith's favor- ite enjoyment at Boulogne ; and the many pleasant illustra- tions he gave us of the " whims and oddities " of life, as seen in his own experience, were ably seconded by the practical humor of Joe Robins, who already indicated the possession of that innate sense of drollery which has since been success- fully developed on the stage. So warmly attached was Albert 1 Angus B. Reach one of the foremost contributors to the periodical literature of that time. The serial referred to was a romance, called Clement Larimer, or the Book with the Iron Clasps. 2 George Cruikshank's Comic Almanack. H. M. was also associated with a pub- lication called The Almanack of the Month, a clever little serial, nominally edited by Gilbert 4 Beckett, but suggested and put together by the former. 310 GEORGE HODDER. to Boulogne before he became thoroughly imbued with that Alpine spirit which led him constantly to Chamouni, and ulti- mately to the summit of Mont Blanc, that in one of his fugi- tive pieces he wrote a tribute to its merits and attractions, from which I give the following extract as a characteristic specimen of his style : " In contradistinction to the imaginary enjoyment of other watering-places, let us take the pleasant, careless Boulogne. It has been customary to deride this new key-hole to the Con- tinent ; to joke about the mobs who fly there, like the ships, for a harbor of refuge ; to allude to stags and sharpers, and broken incomes in fact, to throw every possible slur upon it and its inhabitants. And yet there is no place in the world where really pleasant relaxation can be so readily procured, and at such a cheap rate. You will be told by its enemies that Boulogne is now quite an English town. Don't believe them. What is there English in its gay, lively port, and lines of smart hotels its thorough continental Rue Neuve Chaus- se'e and tnoyen-&ge Upper Town its poissarde population, with their short red petticoats and naked legs or blue stock- ings its hundreds of glittering white caps in the Place on market-day ? Walk a mile away from it in any direction, to- wards Wimereux, Wimille, or Portel, and you will see as much of France as though you had been right across it from Bou- logne to Besan9on. Where will you show us such a glorious stroll as that along the cliffs to Ambleteuse, with the sea and the picturesque rocks and Martello towers so far below you, and literally in sight of home all the way, if the day be but moderately clear ? " There is no ennui at Boulogne, because there is no con- ventional observance of rules of deportment. Everybody does what he likes, not what he thinks he ought to like. And if you wish it, there is a charming private society. In fact, Boulogne is fining down to exceeding respectability ; for it has become a trifle too expensive for the outlawed tribes, and they have emigrated, many, we believe, to Calais." Apropos of Albert Smith's ascent of Mont Blanc, and the ALBERT SMITH. 31 I deservedly popular entertainment which sprang from it, I shall here introduce a burlesque form of invitation sent by him to his friends on the occasion of opening or reopening what he boldly called " the show." This may possibly have been pub- lished before ; but if so, I cannot very justly be charged with " piracy," for I have never yet seen it except in its origina. form ; and as it was addressed to me personally, I hope I may be allowed to deal with it according to my own inclination. In the first place, however, let me state that I chanced to dine in Albert Smith's company at the Cheshire Cheese, in Fleet Street, on the evening before he started from London on his journey to Chamouni. His animal spirits were tuned to a high key, and he spoke in rapturous terms of his intended visit ; but I had not the least idea that he proposed to do more than spend a few weeks at his favorite resort. " Off to-morrow morning ! " he exclaimed ; " and I shall make the ascent of Mont Blanc in a day or two." "Bold thing to do," I said, "for a man who has not been in training, and you are rather heavy for a mountain climber." " Never mind," he replied. " Pluck will serve me instead of training ; and I have n't the slightest fear." When I afterwards shook hands with him I cordially wished hin a " ban voyage" and the next time I saw him he had written his story of Mont Blanc, and was preparing his enter- tainment. The following is a literal transcript of the document just referred to : " We, Albert Smith, one of Her Britannic Majesty's repre- sentatives on the summit of Mont Blanc, Knight of the most noble order of the Grands Mulcts, Baron Galignani of Picca- dilly, Knight of the Grand Crossing from Burlington Arcade to the Egyptian Hall, Member of the Society for the Confu- sion of Useless Knowledge, Secretary for his own Affairs, etc., etc., etc. " Request and require in the name of His Majesty the Mon- 312 GEORGE HODDER. arch of Mountains all those whom it may concern, more espe- cially the Police on the Piccadilly Frontier, to allow George Hodder to pass freely in at the street-door of the Egyptian Hall, and up-stairs to the Mont Blanc Room, on the evening of Saturday, Dec. I, 1855, at 8 p. M., and to afford him every assistance in the way of oysters, stout, champagne, soda and brandy, and other aid of which he may stand in need. " Given at the Box-office, Piccadilly, 28th day of November, 1855. ALBERT SMITH. " God Save the Queen ! " Vu au bureau de la Salle. Bon pour entrer Piccadilly, par P Arcade de Burlington. TRUEFITT. " SAMKDI, \tt December, 1855. "Viseed for the Garrick and Fielding Clubs, the Vaults below the Houses of Parliament, Truefitt's Hair-cutting Sa- loon, the Glacier de Gunter, Jullien's, Laurent's, the Cafe" de 1'Europe, Pratt's, Limmer's, and all other places on the Rhine, between Rule's Marine Museum, or Appetizing Aquarium, and the Jolly Grenadier public-house, No. i, Ellison Square, Pall Mall, South Sebastopol. RULE. " Notice. By the recent police enactments regulating large assemblies in the neighborhood of Piccadilly, this passport must be considered as available for one person only, and does not include the ' friend ' who has always been dining with the bearer." Albert Smith made few enemies, but many friends, and his name is invariably alluded to amongst them in terms which sufficiently show that his loss, as a quick-witted, lively com- panion, still continues to be felt. Indeed it may be said that apart from his merit as a pleasant and humorous writer, he oc- cupied a position as a public " entertainer " which has never yet been worthily filled. KENNY ME ADO WS. 313 KENNY MEADOWS. Of Kenny Meadows I had much experience in his domestic life ; and in that position he was invariably as communicative as he was cordial, ready at all times to repeat anecdotes of great men whom he had known familiarly, and to relate many of the interesting vicissitudes of his own checkered career. William Godwin, the author of " Caleb Williams," he had met as a social companion ; and " Tom Moore " he had seen in the poet's own drawing-room, practicing a song at the pianoforte ; and he was particularly struck with the bright, dapper, unpoetic look of the little man, as he sat there en dishabille, and he was much gratified at the very polite manner in which he received him. Meadows's written, but not published, account of this in- terview was to the effect that he had been requested by the Messrs. Longmans, of Paternoster Row, to wait upon Moore then living in Duke Street, St. James's with a letter, which he was enjoined to place in his own hands, and not to come away without doing so. The poet was from home when the artist first knocked at his door ; and hence the latter, pursuant to the instructions he had received, " wandered about to kill time " (to use his own words). On his presenting himself at the house a second time, the servant informed him that Mr. Moore had just come in, and he was ushered up-stairs. " The little exquisite " had pulled off his boots, and, to Meadows's astonishment, he displayed flesh-colored silk stockings a piece of vanity which would excite much less surprise, now that the biography of the poet has become known. He politely handed a chair to his visitor, and begged him to be seated while he wrote a reply to the note the latter had delivered to him. This task accomplished, Moore made some com- plimentary allusion to certain illustrations Meadows had re- cently published ; " but," says the latter, in describing the interview, " if I could have looked into the seeds of time and have known the poet's subsequent criticism upon my drawing of ' The Peri,' I would have damaged his curly black head for him." 314 GEORGE HODDER. Meadows was essentially valuable to " Punch " for the thoughtfulness of his designs as exemplified, for instance, in " Punch's Letters to his Son," " Punch's Complete Letter Writer," and many of the " cartoons," which were intended to portray something more than a burlesque view of a current event or a popular abuse. The quiet, unostentatious way in which he worked at his art, too often under the most adverse and discouraging circumstances, and the pride he displayed when he felt that he had made a " happy hit," was somewhat like the enthusiasm of a youth who had just attained the honor of a prize. As a draughtsman, he never cared to be guided by those practical laws which regulate the academic exercise of the pictorial art ; for he contended that too strict an adherence to Nature only trammeled him, and he preferred relying upon the thought conveyed in his illustrations, rather than upon the mechanical correctness of his outline or perspective. Among the many ideas on which he congratulated himself, he often alluded to his design illustrating the blessings of peace, which he typified by placing a butterfly at the mouth of a cannon. This he rejoiced to think had preceded Sir Edwin Landseer's picture of " Peace," in which the distinguished royal academ- ician represented a lamb in the same position that Meadows had given to the butterfly. It is hardly to be supposed that Sir Edwin Landseer borrowed his notion from that of Kenny Meadows ; but the latter, not unnaturally, considered there was presumptive evidence in favor of the supposition. Meadows was very fond of a quiet stroll into the country as far as Hampstead or Highgate ; both of which places had from long custom more charms for him than he could see in any other accessible spot within a short distance of the me- tropolis. Highgate, with its picturesque rural neighborhood, was especially full of interesting associations for him ; and he would frequently stop short at the entrance to some snug-look- ing residence notably, for example, that of Mr. Gillman, once famous as the home of the poet Coleridge and expati- ate upon the public virtues and private characters of its for- mer inmates, and upon events which had occurred therein KENNY MEADOWS. 3 1 5 during his own experience. In speaking of the Gillmans, he said the only reward they received for their hospitable conduct (but it was a great one, added Meadows) "was that of an immortality, for who would ever have heard of them but for their connection with the great poet ? " Meadows, in these our pleasant perambulations, was wont to speak of an old lady who kept the Lion and Sun hotel in that neighborhood. This was a favorite resort of Coleridge, and the communicative land- lady used to remark that he was a great talker, and " when he began there was no stopping him." Whenever she returned to the room, she said, after leaving it for a short time, he would still be "going on," and sometimes he made such a noise that she wished him further. Innocent grandam ! Little she dreamt that in after time his " talk " would be treasured by the world as amongst the choicest fruits of genius ! Indeed, an afternoon's walk with Kenny Meadows from Camden Town, where he long resided, to Highgate, and an hour's rest at the Gate House, formed a most healthful recrea- tion to me ; for the benefit I derived from listening to my old friend on one of those pleasant rambles seemed to bring back a link from the past, so amply stored was his mind with the recollection of events which had happened within his experi- ence. But Meadows was not always the mentor or mere cicerone on these occasions ; for he would sometimes be in a jocular mood, and not disposed to take a serious and retro- spective view of things which he brought under my notice. I had told him that a few evenings previously I had visited a friend of his at Kentish Town, and that when the door was opened the whole of his family, numbering about twelve, stood in the passage ! At once perceiving that there was something extremely ludicrous in the picture, Meadows turned it to account by observing that he pitied poor , for his children were so numerous you could n't shut the street-door for them ! At the time of " Punch's " original gatherings Kenny Mead- ows was the Nestor of the party ; and at this present writing he is, I have reason to believe, in a condition of health very 316 GEORGE HODDER. little impaired by his advanced age, but is enjoying, at the close of a life in which he has seen too much that was bitter, the sweets of a Government pension, bestowed upon him by Lord Palmerston, for his poetical illustrations to " Tyas's Shakespeare." GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. By a natural association of ideas, the name of George Cruikshank seems to connect itself with that of Kenny Mead- ows, for there is not much difference in their ages, and both have spent the greater part of a long life in illustrating popu- lar works by the exercise of an imaginative power which has always added strength and grace to the subject-matter they have undertaken to embody. It would be idle to remark that there is a great deal that is not common between them ; but each has oftentimes given pictorial expression to an idea which the other would have been proud to conceive. There was a time when anecdotes were rife concerning George Cruikshank's bonhomie before he signed the teetotaler's pledge ; but in the long lapse of years they have almost faded from the memory, and he is now as familiarly known as the enthusiastic apostle of temperance, as he is for the moral lessons he has taught in his designs. " Now, this won't do ! " he will exclaim if he meets an inti- mate friend who he can plainly perceive has not limited his li- bations entirely to cold water for the last few hours. " Do you see that house there ? " " Yes." " Ah," continues Cruikshank, "he was a worthy fellow who once lived there ; but drink, sir, drink settled him, as it has done many a man." " Well, but in moderation" replies the individual thus admonished. " Moderation !" cries George ; "don't talk to me about mod- eration ; there's no such thing in regard to drink. Give it up entirely, as I have done, or it will give you up." " Well, but you see" "See!" rejoins the mentor, interrupting him. " Why, look at me. What do you think of that for an arm at seventy odd years of age " (extending his right arm and dis- playing it, as if about to strike a blow). " Where 's the drinkei GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. 317 who could show such an arm at the same age ? " I once men- tioned this fact to Kenny Meadows, after it had been told me by the person to whom it had occurred, and Meadows ob- served, laughingly, " Well, I have drunk my share in my time, and I am older than Cruikshank, and find nothing to complain of in my muscular power." But no one could, for a moment, gainsay the zeal and honesty with which George Cruikshank has devoted himself to the cause of teetotalism ; and there cannot be a doubt that he has effected considerable good by his precept and example. Of the various public occasions on which I have seen Cruikshank in the exercise of his function as a disciple of total abstinence, I call to mind one instance, as quite sufficient to exemplify the pains he has taken to incul- cate the virtue, despite the severe test to which his patience has often been exposed. Some years since, when Henry Mayhew, in the progress of his work, " London Labor and the London Poor," had made himself familiar with the coster- mongers of London, that earnest writer presided at a supper given to the fraternity in a remote part of the East end. The only drink to be consumed was to consist of water and ginger- beer ; and amongst the company at the principal table was George Cruikshank, who looked on with delight at the exem- plary conduct of a body of men whom he had always been taught to suppose were the very opposite of teetotalers. In the course of the evening a speech was delivered by the treasurer of the Costermongers' Society (the exact name of which I forget), and, on hearing this, the honest-hearted George began to think that it was time the costers were ranked among the public teachers, instead of being classed with the pariahs of society. Unfortunately, the ginger-beer bottles were convenient vessels for carrying something more potent than water ; and there were certain individuals, seated in close proximity to the chairman and his redoubtable sup- porter, George Cruikshank, who had taken an opportunity of smuggling into the room, by means of one of the said bottles, an alcoholic decoction of the same color as aqua pura. This was of course entirely unknown either to the chairman or to 318 GEORGE HODDER. Cruikshank, and when the latter, in addressing the polite as- sembly, congratulated them upon the happiness they were en- joying, " with nothing before them in the shape of drink stronger than water," great was his horror, just as he pro- nounced the last word in the sentence, at hearing a voice ex- claim, " How deuced weak ! " The traitor was drinking gin under the very nostrils of teetotalism ! The imperturbable Cruikshank said nothing, but the look he gave was intended to throw poison into the spirit ! As to the eloquent treasurer, his connection with the society was not calculated to render much service to the cause, for it soon afterwards transpired that he had embezzled the funds intrusted to his keeping ! In the works of George Cruikshank there is a curious in- stance in proof of the fact that artists have often produced their finest effects by pure accident, when every attempt to at- tain the desired object by toil and care has failed. When the great George brought forth his remarkable figure of Fagin in the condemned cell, where the Jew malefactor is represented biting his finger-nails in the tortures of remorse and chagrin, Horace Mayhew took an opportunity of asking him by what mental process he had conceived such an extraordinary idea ; and his answer was that he had been laboring at the subject for several days, but had not succeeded in getting the effect he desired. At length, beginning to think the task was al- most hopeless, he was sitting up in bed one morning, with his hand covering his chin, and the tips of his fingers between his lips, the whole attitude expressive of disappointment and de- spair, when he saw his face in a cheval glass which stood on the floor opposite to him. "That's it!" he involuntarily ex- claimed ; " that 's just the expression I want ! " and by this accidental process the picture was formed in his mind. The practical filling-up of the design was soon carried into effect, and the result is too well known among the masterpieces of Cruikshank's pencil to need any description from my humble pen. A LOVER OF AUTOGRAPHS. 319 A LOVER OF AUTOGRAPHS. My connection with the Sanatorium brought me in contact with a gentleman well known in the city for his urbanity and mercantile intelligence, and for his liberal doings in matters of a charitable nature, such as those which came under his control as a member of the committee of management. Hold- ing a responsible office in his establishment was an ambi- tious gentleman who had published a volume of poems, and who had a great desire to possess autograph-letters of eminent men. This latter fact I allude to because I had reason to believe it was the cause of his introducing me to an eminent writer, whose works I had read with an appreciation beyond that which is ordinarily commanded by contemporary authors, and whom I could not have supposed I should ever have the privilege of meeting in friendly intercourse. In my ca- pacity of secretary to the Sanatorium, I had been called upon to address a letter to the late Thomas Hood, requesting him to act as a steward on the occasion of a public dinner then about to take place in aid of the funds of that institution, and I immediately received, in answer to my application, a letter which the great humorist well knew would be read aloud to the company assembled at the banquet, and in which, there- fore, he had contrived to embody those characteristics of drollery and pathos so peculiarly belonging to him. The effect of the letter was that the writer regretted that, " although a married man, and well tended," and receiving those domestic comforts which should help to enable him to bear the buffets of fortune, he could not, on account of impaired health, accept the honor sought to be conferred upon him. The dinner took place, and the letter was read out as Mr. Hood antic- ipated. Among the guests was the autograph-seeking gentle- man befoje alluded to ; and in the course of the evening he came to me to express the unbounded interest he felt in the letter as a valuable illustration of Hood's peculiar humor. I fully appreciated the incontestible remark, and kept the letter for which, by the way, I was afterwards offered a high 320 GEORGE HODDER. price in specie, but disdained to accept it, feeling assured that I possessed a treasure which must be regarded as a literary curiosity of more than ordinary interest. LEIGH HUNT. In the course of * week or two from the date of the festive gathering, I received a pressing invitation from the poetaster in question, to dine with him at his house at Peckham, " to meet Leigh Hunt and his daughters," and begging me to take with me the letter of Thomas Hood, as Mrs. (his wife) was most anxious to see it. Here was an honor so entirely unsought and unexpected, that I could only consider it in the light of " greatness thrust upon me ; " and alarmed though I was at the idea of meeting the intimate associate of two such world-renowned men as Byron and Shelley, and who had suf- fered imprisonment for the bold expression of his opinions as a journalist, I very naturally availed myself of the opportunity. The evening arrived, and the party consisted, besides the host and hostess, of Mr. Leigh Hunt and his two daughters, Julia and Jacinth.il I trust I am betrayed into no error as to the names "of the fair ladies), Mr. Augustus Dickens, youngest brother of Mr. Charles Dickens, and who then held a clerk- ship in the same merchant's office as the host, and myself. Mr. Hunt sat opposite to me, and it must be confessed that my respect for the viands before me was much weakened by the reflection that I was in presence of a poet, whose " Story of Rimini " had attracted the notice and gained the commen- dation of Lord Byron, and who had often been alluded to by Shelley in his prose writings as among his choicest compan- ions. To be seated at the same table with Leigh Hunt was, I thought, like seeing Byron and Shelley by a reflected light ; and I could not but watch, with a curiosity amounting almost to awe, every movement of his face, and every \^rd that fell from his lips. True, I soon discovered that, after all, he was but mortal man, and that, despite the history of his past career, he talked and acted as a being of ordinary instincts rather than LEIGH HUNT. 321 as one who might be supposed to have wings to fly with. Still I was constantly reminded of the indisputable fact that Leigh Hunt was " somebody," and that I was assuredly complimented in being brought into such close companionship with him. I hardly dare venture to describe his personal appearance, further than to say he looked\ht man of that refined intellectual power which had given him his place in the literature of his time ; that 'his complexion seemed strangely to harmonize with his hair (for he wore no whiskers, and moustaches at that time had not found their way to this country), in one uniform tint of iron gray ; and that his shirt-collar ascended from his neck in a ntgligt manner, which might be considered slovenly, but which was picturesquely effective in its loose luxuriance. There was, moreover, a sort of valetudinarian air about him, and he appeared extremely particular as to what he ate and drank, preferring, he said, the mildest form of nutriment, such as he was accustomed to at home " just the wing of a chicken." and " only a moderate quantity of sherry and water " being especially demanded. Dinner over, the company were ushered into the drawing- room, which communicated with the salle-a-manger, and there the host and hostess very wisely suggested " a little music." Accordingly the Misses Hunt most kindly indulged the com- pany with a specimen of their taste and skill in pianoforte- playing ; and at length our host prevailed upon his dis- tinguished visitor himself to "favor us with a tune" a knowledge of music being known to be one of Mr. Hunt's accomplishments. With this request he most readily com- plied, and good-humoredly observed, " I will give you a fa- vorite barcarolle which I was in the habit of playing to Birron and Shelley in Italy " (he pronounced the first name as if it were spelt as I have written it with two " rr's " and the " i " short). He executed the task with a spirit and delicacy which could hardly have been expected from an amateur who had passed the greater part of his days in the cultivation of literature " walled in by books," to use his own phrase ; but if he had 21 322 GEORGE HODDER. caused the instrument to speak or to roar, instead of making it "discourse most eloquent music," I think I should gladly have lent my aid to secure an encore. Indeed, the performance suggested a combination of three great names, whose metrical sounds had long rung in the ears of admiring Englishmen ; and I could not help thinking how greatly many of Mr. Hunt's compeers must have envied him the power and opportunity of entertaining two such renowned geniuses as Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley. In the course of the evening our host took pains to remind me of his wife's high appreciation of the autographic letters of eminent men, and he assured me that she would be " so much obliged to me " if I would lend her, for a few days, the interesting epistle I had in my possession from Tom Hood. Full of gratitude for the honor I had received at his hands, I immediately consented; and as may well be imagined I never saw the letter afterwards. Thus was I made to sacrifice a treasure which had come to me from Tom Hood for the pleasure and privilege of an introduction to Leigh Hunt ; and it is in no revengeful spirit that I mention the climax to the story, when I state that the master of the feast was afterwards dismissed from the office he held in the city for the trifling error of paying more regard to his own pocket than to the interests of his employers. Mr. Hunt had engaged a fly for the evening (in tliose days cabs had not asserted their all-prevailing sway in the streets of the metropolis) ; and as he lived at Kensington, and I dwelt on the road thither, he very graciously offered me a seat an act of courtesy on his part, which I, of course, cheerfully ac- cepted ; so that I now found myself one of four in the same carriage with a world-renowned character whom I had previ- ously been proud to encounter in the same room. In the course of a most agreeable conversation (during which I par- ticularly observed that Mr. Hunt never strove to assert the superiority which he possessed), I could not resist the oppor- tunity of telling him that, like himself, I had been educated at Christ's Hospital ; whereupon he playfully observed that he LEIGH HUNT. 323 was there a little before my time, 1 and that Coleridge and Charles Lamb were somewhat before his time. Here again I was rendered deeply sensible of the good fortune which had befallen me ; for I had not only been in close companionship with the friend of Byron and Shelley, but was now riding from one extreme of London to another with one who had sat under the same masters as Coleridge and Charles Lamb. Byron and Shelley, Coleridge and Lamb ! Four bright and penetrating examples of the literary character of this century so potent in their moral and intellectual influence, that it is difficult to avoid the impression that, however unsuccessfully we may draw our conclusions respecting their mental or physical calibre, one seems to have been brought, as it were, into famil- iar communion with them, in having enjoyed the society of their accomplished friend, Leigh Hunt. He most kindly in- vited me to his " quiet suburban abode ; " but alas ! I let the happy chance slip by me ! Not long after the memorable little dinner at Peckham, a weekly periodical was started, under the experienced editor- ship of Mr. Hunt, and called " Leigh Hunt's London Jour- nal." Thinking that a favorable chance was here afforded me of coming in contact with Mr. Hunt under more practical cir- cumstances than I had yet done, I forwarded to him a contri- bution to the journal, and received a gratifying note in return, accepting it. Unfortunately, however, the periodical did not prove a permanent success ; and when the final number made its appearance, the article in question had not been permitted to see the light.' Many good-natured friends stated at the time that it was in consequence of its being known to the in- quiring readers that they were threatened with a contribution of mine that the publication came to an untimely end ! With- out stopping to inquire into the truth or cynicism of this alle- gation, it is melancholy to relate that the MS. has been lost to a disappointed posterity. Hoping to redeem it, I wrote a 1 Leigh Hunt was at that time sixty years of age, as, in fact, he told me during our ride ; and (not to be too particular) I was less than a quarter of a century younger tlian I am now. 324 GEORGE HODDER. respectful letter to Mr. Hunt, and in order that he might extend to me a little more indulgence than is generally shown by editors to casual contributors, I reminded him of the flat- tering circumstances under which I had met him some time previously, and of the friendly feeling he had then displayed towards me. In answer to my communication I received the following letter from his son, Vincent Leigh Hunt, dated "April 16, 1851. " DEAR SIR, I hold the pen for my father, whose state of health obliges him, at present, to write as little as possible. " The address of Mr. Stores Smith, the projector and pro- prietor of the late journal, is No. I, Edith Villas, North End, Fulham. With regard to the MS. it is believed to be at Messrs. Stewart and Murray's, printers (of the Journal), Green Arbor Court, Old Bailey, but if you do not find it there, and will let my father know as much, he will cause further search to be made. " My father, who has a very agreeable recollection of you, is duly sensible of your kind expressions." I applied to the printers as directed, but with no satisfac- tory result ; and it was not very probable that I should ever trouble Mr. Hunt to " cause further search to be made." As to the " Journal," its existence was not prolonged beyond six months sufficient time to bring into life the contents of one volume. It is, of course, beyond my province to express any opinion in regard to Leigh Hunt's valuable contributions to the litera- ture of his time. Full justice has been rendered him in this respect by Mr. Edmund Oilier in an interesting memoir of the poet and essayist. It will be sufficient for me to confine my- self in this, as in most other cases, to the wholesome practice of "speaking of a man as we find him;" and I certainly found in Leigh Hunt a man who appeared the very opposite of one who could be capable of disparaging either a living prince or a dead poet. The monument which has recently JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES. 325 been erected to his memory, by subscription, may at least be taken as a proof that he lived to be regarded as a gentle- hearted, kindly-disposed man ; and that, notwithstanding the errors into which .he was betrayed in his earlier years, he won the respect and good-will of those who knew him best, and whose opinion he would wish to be recorded on his tomb. JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES. It will not, I think, be out of place here to mention that I once met James Sheridan Knowles (the author of a play which, if he had written no other, would have made his name immortal in the annals of dramatic literature " Virginius ") under circumstances of singular interest. I had entered the coffee-room of a tavern in the neighborhood of Covent Gar- den, where a large number of actors and others connected with the theatrical profession were, as usual, assembled ; and I found that the company, instead of indulging in that freedom of speech, and that audible interchange of opinion which was their wont, seemed to be under some kind of restraint ; for those who did venture to say anything, spoke " In a bondman's key. With bated breath, and whispering humbleness." This extraordinary reticence surprised me greatly ; and on looking round the room, in some perplexity, I perceived Sher- idan Knowles (who was then in the zenith of his fame) seated in a far corner, taking no part in any conversation, and appar- ently not quite at his ease. " There 's Sheridan Knowles ! " whispered more than one gentleman of the party, as I ad- vanced to find a seat for myself; and, as I immediately per- ceived, it was the fact of the great dramatic author being pres- ent which had exercised a species of awe over an assembly of players ! In the course of a few minutes he rose to take his departure ; and I was much interested in observing that every man in the room rose in obeisance to him. This was a trib- ute to genius which made a deep impression upon me at the time, and I have often thought since that it did much honor to those who, in offering it, played a part so worthy of the theat- rical- profession. 326 GEORGE ff ODDER. Sheridan Knowles was singularly remarkable, as is well known, for an ingenuous simplicity of speech, together with an absence of mind, which it was difficult to conceive in a man of such eminence ; and many anecdotes are told of him which prove the correctness of this statement. As I have never seen any of these in print, though they may possibh have appeared, I shall offer no excuse for introducing in this place a few instances, which were communicated to me by the persons to whom they relate. Jerrold once asked Knowles to explain the meaning of a particular incident in the plot of " The Hunchback," which had always appeared to him to involve an improbability un- worthy of so excellent a production. " My dear boy ! " said Knowles, " upon my word I can't tell you. Plots write them- selves." The same fellow-dramatist, having on another occa- sion made some observation to Knowles on a scene in Shake- speare which had much impressed him, was anxious to test his friend's opinion upon the subject (thinking, of course, that he would prove himself a great authority in reference to such a question) ; but the moment Jerrold pronounced the name " Shakespeare," Knowles exclaimed, " Ton my honor, I never read Shakespeare. I leave him for my old age ! " When a version of " Frankenstein " was being performed nightly at two metropolitan theatres, the hero being repre- sented at the one by O. Smith, and at the other by T. P. Cooke Knowles, on meeting the former one day in the street, stopped him, and cried, " Faith ! I met your namesake yester- day Mr. T. P. Cooke ! " The names of Mark Lemon and Leman Rede used to puzzle him severely : and as both were, at the period I speak of, fre- quently before the public as writers for the stage, Knowles could never bring himself to understand which of the two was the subject of congratulation when a dramatic success h:ul been achieved by either of them. At length he met Leman Rede and Mark Lemon walking arm-in-arm. " Ah ! " said Knowles, the moment he was close enough to accost them, " now I 'm bothered entirely ! Which of you is the other ? " JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES. 327 Of Knowles's ability as an actor I will not attempt to express an opinion, further than to say it was very far below his powers as an author ; and I will venture to relate a trifling incident* which I witnessed, in order to show that he could not be re- lied upon as a master of all the resources and conventional- ities of the stage. He was playing the Duke of Buckingham, in " King Henry VIII.," at Covent Garden Theatre, and in one of the early scenes it was his task to deliver several important speeches, all requiring the most careful and vigorous declama- tion, and leaving very small chance for an adroit escape in the event of the memory proving treacherous. In these he was evidently somewhat at a loss, and indeed gave no little con- firmation of his own statement that he had "never read Shake- speare." At length he came to a passage which brought him to a complete stand-still, and instead of looking to the prompter for assistance, or getting out of the difficulty by some dexterous ruse, as a more " knowing " artist would have done, he remained in front of the foot-lights, and thumped his forehead several times with his hand ; but the words would not come ! The gesture was one which is, of course, well un- derstood in private life, but which could not be otherwise than ludicrous when seen upon the stage, as in the instance now recorded. There was an unavoidable titter amongst the au- dience, but respect for the author and sympathy with the ac- tor prevented it from rising into absolute laughter. INDEX. Ainsworth, W. Harrison. Visits Mon- crief with Barham, 157. Alvanley, Lord. " Never could do a Jew," 122. " Less gilding and more carving," 122. " Antwerp, The Wife of," to/). Arnold, Samuel. His equanimity in mis- fortune, 122. " Artevelde, Philip van. :> Unfavorable opinion of, by Milman and Harness, 248. Authorship, Denials of. Southey's, 123. Sydney Smith's, 123. Sir Walter Scott's, 123. Autographs, A lover of, 319. Swindles Hudder out of a letter of Hood's, 322. Daily, E. H. Makes a bust of Jerrold, 283. Baker, Steady. Boy brought before, for stealing gooseberries, 48. Bandbox. The importance of, 38. Barium, Edward. Poetical letter to, by his father, 141. Barham, R. H. Acquaintance with Hook, 19. Compared with Hook, 26. Letter to Bentley about Hook's death, 39. Letter to Bentley in reference to the Life of Hook, 40. Letier to Mrs. Hughes about Hook, 42. Mrs. Hughes relates anecdotes of Scott, 46. Adven- ture with Diggle, 52. College life, 53. Averse to speculation, 54. Reply to his tutor, 54. Assists Hnrley to cos- tume. 55. Among smugglers, 57. Dis- believes Spiritualism, 59. Poetical in- vitation to dinner, 60. Poem on a hare, 61. Recovers Dr. Blomberg's fiddles, 67. Witnesses a case of mesmerism, 71. Makes a dubious acquaintance, 93. Acts as one of the stewards of the Literary Fund dinner, 96. Sups with Mr. Blackwood, 96. Intimacy with Thomas Hume, 9?. Acquaintance with I Matthews. 103. Attends the funeral of I Sir Thomas Lawrence, 112. PoeticaJ epistle to his son Richard, 116. Ac quaintance with Sydney Smith, nS Dines at the Beefsteak Club, 122 Dines at tha " Garrick," 123. " M> Cousin Nicholas," 125. " My Grand- father's Knocker," 126. Corrects Lin- ley's reading of " hurly burly,'* 129. Parody of Haynes Bayly, 132. Lines left at Hook's house, 133. Dines with Sydney Smith 134. " You are the canister," 137. Meets Thomas Moore, 140. Poetical epistle to his son Edward, 141. Poem to his cat Jerry, 142. Poetical epistle to Dr. Hume, 152. Detects an accom- plished swindler, 153. " A Song of Sixpence," 155. Receives a visit from the Queen of the Belgians, 156. Goes with Ainsworth to see Moncrief, 157. Hoax about a terrier, 167. His surgeon, 170. "The Bulletin," 172. '' To the Garrick Club," 174. Barham, R. H. D. Poetical epistle to, by his father, 116. Bayly, Haynes. Parody of his style, by Barham, 132. Bentley, Richard. Barham's letter to, about Hook's death, 39. Advice as to who should edit Hook's Remains, 41. Blomberg, Edward, Captain (Major?). Apparition of, 65. His child brought up in the Roval nursery, 66. Becomes chaplain to George IV. ,67. Is robbed of his fiddles, 67. They are recovered for him by Barham, 68. Brewster, Sir David. Asks who Crabbe i*. 235- Brummell, Beau. Anecdotes of, 249. Buckingham, Duke of. His death pre- dicted by an apparition, 9 ... Bulletin, The. 172. Bushe, Chief Justice. Remark to th Duke of Richmond, 166. 330 INDEX. Byron, Lady. Her character as drawn by Harness, 185. Byron's devotion to her, 1 86. Tlve world commiserates her, t%. Her friends slander Byron, 187. Weeps when she sees his statue, 188. Curiosity regarding the conversation of Harness, 188. Deficient in tact and reflection, 193. " Why did she marry Byron," 193. Did not understand By- ron, 193. Byron, Lord. Tells young Hook to knock out Mrs. Drury's eye, 37. His kindness to Harness at Harrow, 179. Writes a sharp letter to Harness, 180. Bees his pardon, 180. Epigram on Robert Speer, 180. His friendship for Harness, 181. Desires his por- trait, 181. Harness at Newstead, i t. Correcting proof of " Childe Harold," 183. Serious conversa- tion of Hodgson, 183. In London famous 184- His marriage, 184. A victim of popular feeling, 184. His leaving England a mistake, 185. Char- acter of Lady Byron, 186. His devo- tion to her, 186. Gossip against him, 1X7. His conduct could not have been all bad, 188. Lady Byron weeps at the sight of his statue, 188. Harness knew nothing but good of him, 1X9. Generosity to Coleridge, 189. Consid- eration to servants, 1X9. Attachment to his friends, 190. Better than most young men, 190 From boyhood his own master, 190. Morbid love of a bad reputation, 191. Writes paragraphs against himself, 191. Maligns himself and his family, 191. " My lather cut his throat," 192. Contradicted by Mrs. Villiers, 192. Not in the least like his bad heroes, 193. Mr. Drury's knowledge of him, 191. His poetry too strong for Harness, 193. How his marriage was brought about, 193. Miss Mitford's question, 193. Character of I. ulv Byron, 193. He would not be driven, 194. Harness's opinion uf " Cain," 194. The purity of hir cor- respondence with Harness. 196. Cambridge, Duke of. His eccentricity, Canister, The. A specimen of Itarham's sarcasm, n;. Cannon, Edward, Rev. Story of the country manager, 27. Original of God- frey MOM in Hook's "Maxwell,'' 75. Brought up under Lord Thurlow, 75. Ch.ipliin to the Prince of Wales, 75. His opinion of the noble art of fencing. 7'>. Qtie^lioned by the I'rince of Wales as to his singing, 76. His reply, 77. Episode of the royal snuff-box, 77. Condescension of George IV., 78. Knows how to say " No," 78. Anec- dotes of Lord Thurlow, 78, 79. George IV. sends him a check, Si. In pawn at an inn, 8t Sits up late with Theo- dore Hook, 81. His hostility to Dr. Blomfield, 82. Burns a will that would have made him rich, 83. Profits in the end by his disinterestedness, 84. His death, 85. Anecdote of Indian officer, 86. His snuff-taking. 87. Jest on the spouting of poet Fitzgerald, 96. Story of Townsend, the Bow Street officer and a Jew boy, 1 19. Caul field. Captain. Mimicry of Suett's voice from the mourning coach, 114. Child, The Sentimental. " Bless you, dear little piggy," 158. Chorley, H. F. Withdraws from editing Miss Mitford's correspondence, 205. " Clovemook, The Chronicles of," 266. Club, The Beefsteak. Barham dines at, 122. Club, The r.arrick. Poetical address to, ,* 7 <: Coleridge, S. T. Byron's generosity to, 189. At the Gillmans, 237. How he obtained opium, 237. What Words- worth thought of his oration, 237. The terror and amusement of children, 2 ;(. Cooper, the actor. D. L. T., bombastic prologue given to, 21. Crabbe, Geo. In Edinburgh, 235. Croker, John Wilson. Specimen of his impertinent wit, 35. Presents Cannon with a snuff-box, 88. Cruikshank, George. Preaches teetotal- ism, 316. At a costcrmonger's supper, 317. Discovers gin in his neighbor- hood, 318. How lie drew Fagin, 31*. Curran, J. P. Invited to dine with Lord Thurlow, 79. His opinion of the Irish bar, 80. Diggle, Charles. Offers the first speaker a tart, 52. Digniim, The Brothers. Their dilemma in regard to asses' milk, 88. Dinmont, Dandy. Original of, 49. "Doctor Toe." Epigram at the expense of, 128. Dodds, Met;. Original of, 46. Donatty, Mrs. Murder of, 68. " Douglas/' The play of, minus Young Norval, 27. Doyle, Richard. Makes the frontispiece of " Punch," 394. Drury, Rev. Henry. Conversation with Harness about Byron, 192. Dutchman, Flying. Seen by Hook and others, 33. INDEX. 331 Eldon, Lord. Anecdote of his wife's closeness, 62. Family, The Mayhew, 298. Edward, his writings, 298. Confined by a para- lytic affection, 299. Death, 300. Julius assists his brother Edward with draw- i"KS, 300. Augustus, his writings, 301. Fanshawe, Catherine. Her " Memori- als " edited by Harness, 226. " The letter H," 227. "Speech of the Mem- ber for Oldham," 228. Fawcett, John. Anecdote of Mr. Irby, 85. Fish. A strange, 89. Foster, Birket. Draws fur " Punch/' 294. Foster, Tony. Incidents of his death real, 49. Fraser, Thomas. Dines Jerrold, Poole, and Mahony. 278. Frost, John. 'Black-balled by the Royal Society, 113. What he accomplished by wearing a uniform, 114. Interview with Duke of St. Albans, 115. Gattie, the actor. Hoaxed by a burlesque prologue, 21. Geese. An old pair of, 90. Gemmell, Andrew. Original of, 47. George IV. " Kings never does : we lets 'em go free,'' 140. Anecdote of, 168. Ghost Story. The Blomberg, 63. The Portsmouth, 105. Gilbert, John. Jerrold r s objection to his working for " Punch," 295. Graham, W. Editor of " The Literary Museum,'' 93. A forger, 94. Smit- ten with Miss Foote, 94. A debaucher, 95. Price promises not to betray him, 95. Forges again and absconds to America, 96. Grenville, Mr. Lord Alvanley's jest on his dining-room, 122. Hare, A. Poem on, by Barham, 61. Harley, J. P. Loan of costume to, by Barham, 55. Harness, William. Acquaintance with Byron at Harrow, 179. Byron his pro- tector, 179. Byron writes him a sharp letter, 180. Begs his pardon, 180. His lameness, 181. Byron's affection for him, 181. Byron desires his pict- ure, 181. Visits Byron at Newstead, 183. Reproves Byron for his thought- lessness, 184. Byron sends him his poems, 184. Renews his friendship with Byron in London, 184. His opin- ion of Byron's leaving England, 185. Knows nothing of Byron's matrimonial quarrel, 185- Character of Lady By- ron, 185. He knows no ill of Byron, 189. His ^minion of Byr.-.n's attach- ment to his friends, 190. What Byron said to him about his family, 192. His defense of Byron, 192. Conversation with Drury, 192. Finds Byron's poetry too strong for him, 193. His opinion of Byron's marriage, 193. His kindly view of Byron's character, 194. De- nounces Byron's later writings, 194. Extracts from one of his lectures, 194. The playmate of Miss Mitford, 196. Letter to Dr. Mitford, 197. Writing charades, 198. Letter to Miss Mitford, 198. "The Wife of Antwerp," 199. Letter from Miss Mitford, 201. His religious views opposed to those of Miss Mitford, 202. Dislike of Dr. Mitford, 202. Letter from Mrs. Opie about Miss Mitford's pecuniary difficulties, 203. Miss Mitford's opinion of him, 204. Her desire that he should collect her correspondence, 205. Difficulties of the undertaking, 205. Trouble with her servants, 206. Her Life declined by different publishers, 207. Pilgrimage to Stratford, 207. The church clock strikes at night, 208. Restores the in- scription on Shakespeare's monument, 208. His edition of Shakespeare, 208. Miss Miiford's opinion of it, 208. Re- marks on the parts played by Shake- speare, 210- Shakespeare's supposed lameness, 211. Remarks on the text of Shakespeare, 211. His description of the Globe Theatre, 214. His impres- sions of Mrs. Siddons, 217. On the locality of Prospero's Island, 218. Let- ters to, from the Kembles in America, 219. Friendship for the Keans, 225. Edits " Memorials of Catherine Fan- shawe," 226. Affection for servants, 230. Remarks on the translation of Bible texts, 232. Acquaintance with Edward Irving, 232. Early reminis- cences, 234. Anecdotes of Paley, 234. Admiration of Crabbe, 235. With Scott at Westminster Hall, 236. Acquaint- ance with Coleridge, 237. His opinion of Lamb, 238. Acquaintance with Sheridan, 239. Acquaintance with Rogers, 239. Acquaintance with Wash- ington Irving, 241. Acquaintance with Hook, 241. Acquaintance with Henrv Hope, 243. His presentiment of Hope's death, 244. Acquaintance with Tal- fourd, 245. Dinner at the Talfourds, 246. Dines with Thackeray, 246. Ac- quaintance with Milman, 247. Visits a prison chaplain, 248. Anecdotes re- lated by Harness, 248. Hart, Major. Effect of mesmerism upon, 72- 332 IXDEX. Hertford, Marquis of. Hit income, 33. Hill, Thomas. Original of Mr. Hull and Paul Pry, 91. Humbugged by Price, 92. Hine, H. G. Makes small cuts for , " Punch,' 1 193. Hodder, George. Becomes acquainted | with Henry Sl.iyhew, 253. Introduced , to Douglas Jerrold, 254. Notes of j Jerrold to, 256. Visits Jerrold at Bou- ; logne, 260. Remarks on J errold's plays, 263. Visits Jerrold at Herne Bay, 265. On an oyster party with Jer- rold and others, 265. Is sub-editor ol" the " Illuminated Magazine," 266. Note of Jerrold t", about his contribu- tions, 267. Anecdote of his sister, 272. Goes to Paris with Jerrold, 274. Visits Chatsworth, 281. At the celebration of Jen-old's fiftieth birthday, 283. In Jerrold's death-chamber, 284. Henry Mayhew's projection of Punch," 286. Acquaintance with Horace Mayhew, 296. Leech makes drawings for his " Sketches of Life and Character,'' 303. Acquaintance with Albert Smith, 307. Acquaintance with Kenny Meadows, 313- Receives a letter from Hood, 3 19. Invited to dine with Leigh Hunt, 320. Hunt gives him a ride in his fly, 322. Loses a MS., 324. Meets Sheridan Knowles in a coffee-room, 325. Hodgm, Francis. Visits Byron at New- stead. 183. Hook, Theodore. Barham's acquaintance with, 19. Caricature of, in " Coning- - by," 20. Repeat* an unintelligible prologue and sermon, 22. Improvises a burietta, 23. Compared with Bar- ham, 26. Sings an extempore song against Cannon, 27. Altercation with Cannon, 28. The original of '' Gervase Skinner," 28. Hoaxing stage-coach travellers, 29 Hoaxing old lady and her daughters, 30. Martha, the gypsy, 32. His opinion of the Marquis of Hertford, 33- Sees the Flying Dutch- man, .13. Story of Irish servant, 33. Story of old Irishwomin who cl limed her husband's body, 34. Trumpeting Sheridan in " The Wood Demon,'' 3$. " Mr. H ' Punch,'' 36. Put up to mischief at school by Byron, 37. Hi* two daughters, 37. Anecdote of Sir George Warrender, 37. Dines with Barliam, 39. His fos of appetite, 42. Last days and death, 44. Lines left at his house by liarham, 133. Acquaintance with Harness, 241. Opinion of waltz- ing. 242. Mistaken fora Prince, 242. Huoton, Charles. Letter to Hodder, 264. Hope, Henry. Acquaintance with Har- ness, 243. Remark of Rothschild to, 241. Anecdote of his sons' tutor, 244. Harness's presentiment of h.s death, 244- HMM, Warrender. Secret chamber dis- covered in, 51. Hnwley, Archbishop. His to:ist, 161. " H, The Letter." By Catherine Fan- shawe, 227- Hume, Thomas. His intimacv with Bar- ham, 99. Instance of his drv humor, too. Tragical death of his first wile's father, 102. Poetical epistle to, by B.uh.tm, 152. Hunt, Leigh. Hodder invited to dine with him, 320. Personal appearance, 321. His pronunciation of Byron, 321. Sings a barcarollt, 321. Gives Hod- der a ride in his fly, 322. Starts the " London Journal," 323. Loses a MS. of Hodder's, 324. Hughes, Dr. Anecdote of Scott, 45. Visited by Sir Walter Scott, 48. Hushes, Mrs. Barium's letter to about Hook's last days, 42. Relates a ghost story to Barham, 105. Another ghost story, 119- Sends" My Cousin Nich- olas to Mi. Blackwood, 126. Imagination. The effect of, 71. Irving, Edward. His acquaintance with Harness, 232. Irving, Washington. Acquaintance with Harness, 241. Island, Prospero's. Its locality, 218. Jeaflreson, John Cordy. Letter to Hod- der about a projected club, 257. Jeffrey, Francis. His conversation com- pared with Scott's, 138. {ekyll, Joseph. Anecdote of, 249. errold, Douglas. Introduced to Hod- der, 254. Jests on Henry Mayhew's black suit, 254- His bitterness, 255. Notes to Hodder, 256. A clubable man, 256. At Boulogne, 239. Invites Hodder to visit him, 260. " E^ad, I 'II have a dip," 261. Writes " The Pris- oner of Avar " and " Gertrude's Cher- ries," 262. Characteristics of his plays, 20V At Herne B.iy, 263. Write* " The Chronicles of Cloveniook,'' 266. Note to Hodder, 267. Attacked by rheumatism, J'>S. " I am not going In die," 269. Tries the water cure at Great Malvcrn, 269. Termination of the " Illuminated Maga/ine," 270. Starts " Douglas lerrold'* Shillm-: Magazine," 271. Write* " St. Giles,'' etc., 272. Start* " Douglas Jem-Id's Weekly Newspaper,*' 274 (iocs tu INDEX. 333 Paris to work up the Revolution. 175. " i don't want facts," 276. His favor- ite wine, 277 " Don't come to France to eat roast beef," 177. Meets Poole and Mahony, 278. Burns his letters of introduction, 278. His opinion of mar- riage, 2?g. Literary advice, 27g. " Time Works Wonders," 280. His children, 281. Gives a ball in honor of his son Edmund, 2$2. Celebrates his fiftieth birthday, 283. Baily, the sculp- tor, makes his bust, 283. Stricken with mortal illness, 283. Death, 284. Fu- neral, 28.^. Jerrold, William Blanchard, 259. Jerry, Barham's cat. Poem about, 142. Jones, the tailor. The sort of gun he shot with, 249. Keans, The. Harness's friendship for, 225. Kemble, Charles. Letter to Harness, 223. Kemble, Fanny. Letter to Harness from America, 219. Her description of Bos- ton, 221. Kiddy, drunken prompter, anecdote of, 85. King, Thomas. Anecdote, 137. Knowles, James Sheridan. Inspires re- spect among actors. 325. Jerrold ques- tions him about The Hunchback,'' 326. " I never read Shakespeare, 1 ' 326. Makes a bull, 326. Puzzled by Leman Rede and Mark Lemon, 326. Forgets his part in " Henry VIII.," 327. Knox, Dr. Vicesimus. His story with regard to the word " clause," 166. Laird, The drunken. Anecdote of, 50. Lamb, Charles. Anecdotes of, 238. " Lammermoor, The Bride of." Main incidents true, 46. Lawrence, Sir Thomas. Funeral of, 112. Lee, Sir Henry. Portrait of, 47. Leech, John. Makes drawings for a sketch of Hodder's in " Bentley's Mis- cellany," 303. Illustrates a book for Hodder, 303. What his friends called him. 304. He dines some of the staff of ''Punch," 304. What Jerrold said of his singing, 305. Leigh, Percival. Asked to contribute to " Punch," 287 Contributes a macaron- ic poem, 292. Linley, William. Corrected by Barham while spouting " Macbeth," 129. Va- rious readings of " hurly burly," 130. Proposed reading of Beazley, 131. Hill's old copies, 132. Louis XIV. Receives a ghostly mes- sage, 98. Lutirell, Henry. Kpigiam of Prince Re- gent's illness, 90. Macbeth. Criticism of a French actor, 168. Macready, W. C. Anecdote of, in Amer- ica, 167. " Magazine, Douglas Jen-old's Shilling," 271. M ihony, Rev. Francis (Father Prout). Seeks Jerrold's acquaintance at Paris, 278. Maintenon, Madame de. Supposed to have tricked Louis XIV., 99. Mathews, Charles, the elder. Acquaint- ance with Barham, 103. His story of the Irish surgeon's horse-race, 103. Account of Suett's funeral, 123. Dole- ful time at an inn, 125. Maule, Judge. Anecdote of, 168. Mayhew, Henry. Fondness for chemical experiments, 253. Jerrold's jest on his black suit, 254. Projects ' Punch," 286. Asks Douglas Jerrold to con- tribute to it, 287. His works, 296. At " Punch's Saturday " gatherings, 297. Note to Hodder, 297. Meadows, Kenny. Calls on Thomas Moore, 313. Designs for " Punch," 314. The blessings of peace, 314. Fondness for the country, 314. Anec- dote of Coleridge, 315. jest on the children of a friend, 315. Not the worse for drinking, 317. Mesmerism. Curious case of, 72. Middleton, Lord. Cool advice to Gun- ter, 33. Minister, The placed. His eloquence spoiled, 48. Mitford, Mary Russell. Her pertinent question in regard to Lady Byron, 193. Harness her early playmate, 196. Her childish portrait, 196. Extravagance of Dr. Mitford, 197. She publishes Har- ness's charades in " Blackwood," 19*. Letter from Harness, 198. Opinion of his " Wife of Antwerp," 199. Her pre- dilection for the Drama, 201. Dedi- cates her "Country Stories" to Har- ness, 201. Her religious views, 202. Her- poverty, 203. Her opinion of Harness. 204. Makes him her literary executor, 205. Her economy in paper, 205. Makes her servants her residuary legatees, 205. Their claims, 206. Her Life declined by several publishers, 207. Talfourd's impoliteness about " Rienzi," 245. Milman, Henry Hart. Who made his " Fall of Jerusalem," 247. Moncrief, J. W. His dramatization of "Jack Sheppard,'' 157. Controversy w th Dickens, 157. 334 INDEX. Monomania. A case of, 59. Moore, Thomas His account of George IV.'s visit to Ireland, 138. His com- parison of Jeffrey and Scott, 138. An- ecdle of little Ktun boy, 139. La- ments that the prize gained by his son would be of no use to him, i v- His meeting O'Connell, 139. U'KrienV hostility to him, 139. His meeting Hook, 140. He quotes Lord Lans- downe's description of Sydney Smith, 140. One of his stories of Scott, 140. Murphy, Serjeant His scriptural-legal ioke, 166. "My Cousin Nicholas." Sent to Mr. black wood by Mrs. Hughes, 126. " Newspaper, Douglas Jerrold's Week ly," 274- CXBeirne, Rev. Thomas Lewis. Sermon written for by Sheridan, 164. Its re- sult, 164. O'Connell, Daniel. A blackguarding from, 167. Officer, Indian. Anecdote of, 86. Oflbr, George. Shows his library to the Duke of Sussex. 163. Oldbuck, Jonathan. Original of, 47. Opic. Mrs. Amelia. Letter in reference to Miss Mitford's pecuniary difficulties, 203. Ottley, Mr. One of his stories, 161. Paley, William. Anecdotes of, 234. Paradox, A, 92. Paxton, Joseph. His design for the Great Exhibition, 281. Pecoil, M. Starved to death among his treasures, 50. Pew. A. Of many owners, 165. Pickled Cockles. Story of a thieving magpie, 150. Poole, John. Meets Jerrold in Paris, 278. Power, Tyrone. A bon mot of, 134. Present. The unlucky, i8. Price, Stephen. Slips on to bed, leaving Hook and Cannon, 82. His sea-ser- pent yarn, 92. Prologue, The absurd, given to Gattie the actor, 21. Prologue, The bombastic, given to Coop- er, 21. Prophecy, A fulfilled, 51. " Punch.'' The origin of, 286. Pro- jected by Henry Mayhew, 2S6. List of suggested artists and contributors, 287. Principal contributors to first number, 288. Prospectus, 289. Day of publi- cation, 291. Its early struggles, 291. "Sodalita* I'unchica/' 202. Acces- sion to it* pVlori.il -.trrngth. i M. Bir- ket Foster, 294. Its early directors, 294. Purgatory. The opinion of a Catholic pnest, 249. Queen of the Belgians. Visits the library at St. Paul's, 156. Rector, A country. Anecdote of, 248. Rector, The free and easy, 58. Richard III. New reading by Catesby, 1 68. Richards, Miss. Apparition appears to her dairy-maid, 120. The result, 121. Ricketls, Mrs. Her ghost siory, 143. Rogers. Criticism of his servant, 240. The Chimney Story, 240. Dislikes writ- ing letters of condolence, 240. Remark on the marriage of a friend, 240. On Moore's taste for writing biography, 241. Samson, Dominie, original of, 4^. Sandford, Harry. Quizzes an old gen- tleman, 89. Misquotes Shakespeare, 89. Duke of Wellington's head, 90. Satan. Driven out of Alice Norringtnn, 56. Scott, Reginald. His account of a case of witchcraft, 56. Scott, Sir Walter. Defense of a Scottish clergyman. 46. Proposes a benefit to Terry the actor, 4*>. Main incidents of the " Bride of Lammermoor " true. 46. Who Meg Dodds was, 46. Who Jon- athan Oldbuck and Andrew Gemmell were, 47. Wayland Smith's attendant, 47. Sir Henry Lee and his dog, 47. On the way to Malta, 48. Anec- dote of country minister, 48. Who Dominie Sampson was, 48. Who Dan- die Dinmont was, 49. Tony Foster's death, taken from Due dc St. Simon's memoirs, 49 Death of Lady Johnson, jo. Anecdote of drunken laird, 50. McKinnon looks gash," 50. A true prophecy, 51. His visit toWarrender House, 51. Extricates himself from .1 a ghostly dilemma, 98. Denies haying written ''Old Mortality" and reviews it in the " Quarterly," 123. His con- versation compared with Jeffrey'- Harness makes way for liim in ' minster Hall, 236. His broad Scouli dialect, 236. Shakespeare, William. Harness's edition of, 208. As m player, 210. His sup- posed lameness, 211. Goodness of his writing, 211. Sheridan, R. B. His vanity, 239. Makes hi* love-letters do duty twice, 239. Siddon*, Sar.ih Her imprcs-.ii in on H.ir- I1P1, ?I7 AllM-llulP of, 217. INDEX. 335 St. Simon, Due de. His conjectures re- garding Madame de Maintenon, 99. Simplicity, Rustic. " They never dug up ready-made pots," 62. Sixpence, A song of, 155. Skinner, Gervase, original of, 28. Smith, Albert. His first contributions to " Punch," 306. Gives Hodder a letter of introduction to Jules Janin, 307. Thinks of becoming a farmer, 308. With Thackeray at the Cyder Cellars, 309. Description of Boulogne, 310. Starts for Chamouni, 3:1. Grandilo- quent invitation to his show, 311. Smith, Sydney. Remark about Hook's priming himself, 36. " The cool of the evening," 36. Takes possession of his stall at St. Paul's, 118. Disowns " Peter Plymley's Letters," 123. His brother Robert's translation of Liberia! sub rege fio, 134. Proposed motto for the " Edinburgh Review," 134. What he would do in a religious war, 135. Averse to ballooning, 135. His wish in regard to country cousins, 140. Colburn wishes him to write a novel, 162. "A page of eulogy," 167. His shampooing, 167. Bon mot at his ex- pense by Lydia White, 243. Smith, Wayland. His attendant, 47. Smugglers. Barham among, 57. Sneyd, Mr. Nicknamed bv George IV., 79. Invites Curran to dine with Lord Thurlow, 79. Snubbed by Lord Thur- low, 80. Somerset, Lord Webb. Author of a note to " Rokeby," 49. Southey, Robert. Account of his intro- duction to Duchess of St. Albnns, 91. Denies the authorship of " The Doc- tor," 123. Speer, Robert. Byron's epigram on, 180. St Albans, Duchess of. Threatens Hor- ace Twiss, 91. Suett, Richard. Mathews's account of his funeral, 123. Captain Caul field's mimicry of the dead actor's voice, 123. Indecent behavior of a boy at the fu- neral, 123. Sugden, Sir Edward. Croker's impu- dence to. 35. Surgeon, Barham's. His medical jargon, 170. Sussex, Duke of. Opinion of book col- lectors, 163. Swindler, An accomplished, 153. Talfourd, Thomas Noon. His head turned by the success of " Ion," 245. Sneers at " Rienzi," 245. Always saw " Ion " played. 246. Carelessness of his household affairs, 246- Talleyrand, Prince de. Anecdote of, 134. Tell. "William. Origin of, 57. Terrier, An intelligent, 167. Terry, Daniel, Scott undertakes to write a prologue for his benefit, 46. Theatre, The Globe. Harness's descrip- tion of, 214. Thesiger, Mr. " An uncommonly good Cryer," 167. Townsend, the Bow Street officer. Ex- amines a Jew boy, 119. Thurlow, Lord. Early patron of Can- non, 75. How he beat George IV., 78- His opinion of Sir John Lade, 79 His genius hunter, Mr. Sneyd, 79. Has Curran to dinner, 79. Curran : s denun- ciation of the Irish bar, 80 His snub- bing Mr. Sneyd, 80. Trelawney, E. D. His extreme opinions, 138- Villiers, Mrs. Contradicts Byron's story about his father's death, 192. Wallack, J. W. Explains Shakespeare to a French actor, 168. Walpole, Edward. " Eating deeds as well as words," 138. Warrender, Sir George. What his but- ler said to him, 37. Opinion of Croker, 38- Whately, Archbishop. Extract of a let- ter from, 161. White, Lydia. Her motives for personal adornment, 243. Anecdotes of, 243. Wigan, Mr. and Mrs- Guests of Jen-old, 262. " Gertrude's Cherries " written for, 262. Wilmot, Dr. Poetical invitation to din- ner, 60. Wilson, John. Thrashes a lord and his friends for rudeness to Mrs. Wilson and her sister, 97. Witchcraft. Case of at Westwell, 56. Wood, Mr. Story about dying on geame feathers, 151. Yates, Frederick Henry. Forgets the name of his friend, 135. He comes to dinner, 136. His name not discovered, 136- "Infinite riches in a little room." MARLOWE. THE BRIC-A-BRAC SERIES. Personal Reminiscences of Famous Poets and Novelists, Wits and Humorists, Artists, Actors, Musicians, and the like. EDITED BY RICHARD HENRY STODDARD. The volumes already issued have insured the BRIC-A-BRAC SERIES wide and permanent' popularity. New volumes guile as interesting and valuable as those already published will be issued at intervals. 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" To all lovers of literary anecdote, and of gossip whose whisper* are the mur HUT* of fame, the book will prove a refreshment in many a tired mood." From tki Boston Post. u No more refreshing volume could be carried into the country or to the sea-shore, to fill in the niches of time which intervene between the pleasures of the summer holidays." From the N. Y. World. " We undertake to say that no one will feel the fatigue even of a lone day's jour- ney, if, in a Pullman car, he will undertake to satisfy himself with a ' linc-a-Brac.' " From tkt Congregationalist. " It is of handy size, and with the pleasant tint of its paper, agreeable face of its type, and cover of odd device, has a generally ' natty ' look which will make friends for it at once." From tkt N. Y. Daily Times. " One of the most compact, fresh, and entertaining volumes of literary and artistio tna that has lately been offered a public always eager for this precise variety of enter* tainment .... The editor has used his material with such admirable tact and skill that the reader glides insensibly from one paragraph into another, now amused, now instructed, but never wearied." From tht Boston Journal. " A pleasanter volume than this, it has not been our fortune to happen upon for long time. It is thoroughly delightful in style and manner, as it is unique in method." From tht N. Y. Evening Post. " Mr. Stoddard's work appears to be done well-nigh perfectly. There is not a dull page in the book." From tht Worcester Gazette. " We commend the book to the summer tourist who can be content with anything better than a novel, and will condescend to be amused." From the Providence Press. " The new ' Bric-a-Brac Series ; ' something unique and beautiful, both in design and execution . ... If this first volume is a fair specimen of his judgment and skill, the series will prove first-class and popular, among lovers of pure literature.' ' From the Springfield Union. " If we do not allow ourselves the luxury of quotation, it U because of a veritable emtarras de richesse with such a collection of titbits to pick from. The get-up of the Bric-a-Brac Series is something quite unique and gorgeous." From the Philadelphia Aft. " These reminiscences are highly interesting, as they not only give an insight into the every-day life of the individuals themselves (Chorley, Planchl, and Young), but teem with anecdotes of the distinguished men and women with whom they asso- ciated or came in contact." From the Buffalo Courier. " Judging from the volume before us, none of these will be disappointed, for it is in reality a feawt calculated to pique the dullest literary appetite, and spread in the daintiest possible way lo boot ' Infinite riches in a little room,' is the motto Mr. Stoddard has taken, and its spirit is faithfully kept in the sample of the ""^ now given to the public." An Important Historical Series. EPOCHS OF HISTORY. EDITED BY EDWARD E. MORRIS, M.A., Of Lincoln College, Oxford. Head Master of the Bedfordshire Middle-Class Public School, &c. Each 1 vol. 16mo. with Outline Maps. Price per volume, in cloth, $1.00. TT ISTORIES of countries are rapidly becoming so numerous that it is almost impos J. 1 sible for the most industrious student to keep pace with them. Such works are, of course, still less likely to be mastered by those of limited leisure. It is to meet the wants of this very numerous class of readers that the Epochs of History has been projected. The series will comprise a number of compact, handsomely printed man- uals, prepared by thoroughly competent hands, each volume complete in itself, and sketching succintly the most important epochs in the world's history, always making the history of a nation subordinate to this more general idea. No attempt will bt made to recount all the events of any given period. The aim will be to bring out in the clearest light the salient incidents and features of each epoch. Special attention will be paid to the literature, manners, state of knowledge, and all those character- istics which exhibit the life of a people as well as the policy of their rulers during any period. To make the text more readily intelligible, outline maps will be given with each volume, and where this arrangement is desirable they will be distributed throughout the text so as to be more easy of reference. A series of works based upon this general plan can not fail to be widely useful in popularizing history as science has lately been popularized. Those who have been discouraged from attempt- ing more ambitious works because of their magnitude, will naturally turn to thece Eprchs of History to get a general knowledge of any period ; students may use them to great advantage in refreshing their memories and in keeping the true per- spective of events, and in schools they will be of immense service as text books, a poiol which shall be kept constantly in view in their preparation. THE FOLLOWING VOLUMES ARE NOW READY: The ERA of the PROTESTANT REVOLUTION. By F. SEEBOHM, Author of "The Oxford Reformers Colet, Erasmus, More.' 1 The CRUSADES. By the Rev. G. W. Cox, M.A., Author of the " History o. Greece." The THIRTY YEARS' WAR, I6i&-i6 4 8. By SAMUKL RAWSON GARDINML 13ff~ Copies sent fast-paid, on receipt of price, by the Publisher*, A New Narrative Poem BY Dr. J. G. HOLLAND. TIIK MISTRESS OF THE MANSE. BY DR. J. G. HOLLAND, Author of "Bitter-Sweet," " fCalhrina," "Arthur Bontiuastle," " Titcomb's Letters," <&.,