PEKSOXA L RECOLLECTIONS. r THE COCK AND MAGPIE," DRURY LAXE, 1840. A FEW PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS printer. " I count myself in nothing else so happy As in a soul remembering my good friends " SHAKESPEARE (Richard II.) Xcmfcon PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION 1896 If such a trifle were worthy of a "Dedication" I would dedicate it to my old and valued friend, ISAAC THUKGOOD PERRING, who has been my companion during nearly the whole of my business life, and who will remember many of the incidents herein related. A PORTION of tJic contents of this little volume formed the subject-matter of a "gossip-lecture" delivered in 1895 to an Association of Printers* Managers. The fact that the editors of several technical journals applied at the time for the manuscript in order to print it in extenso led flu' writer to conclude that it might be of some interest to a larger audience. It has therefore been "printed for private circula- tion " among Jiis friends as a keepsake. 1231004 Personal Recollections. " Say all you have to say in the fewest possible words." JOHX RUSKIN. LONG AGO. THE life of a printer may as a general rule be described as a monotonous round of drudgery, affording but little scope for adventure or interesting experience. But probably there is no one who has followed the occupation for more than half a century who has not at various times come in contact with men around whose memory some interest still lingers, or who does not retain some recollections of past events that are worth recalling. Looking back to a period distant about sixty years one cannot but realise the progressive change that has since taken place in all the phases of every-day life. This, perhaps, can be here most appropriately and most effectively illustrated by referring to the fiscal impositions upon the press. Previous to the year 1833 the duty upon every advertisement was 35. 6d. ; an advertisement can now be inserted in a widely circulated paper for sixpence. Until 1836 a i o Hard Times for Printers duty of threepence was levied upon every pound of paper manufactured ; paper can now be purchased for about three-halfpence per pound. Until the same year the stamp duty upon every copy of a newspaper was fourpence ; many newspapers are now issued " price one halfpenny." At that time the conditions of labour and the surroundings of the average working printer were by no means con- ducive to his physical or moral welfare.* The occupation of compositor, pressman, or machine- minder was then considered as necessarily involving a certain, or rather uncertain, amount of intemper- ance, and it must be confessed that my early experience did not tend to disprove the justice of the popular impression. This no doubt arose out of long hours of employment and the absence of the means of rational recreation. Established holidays there were actually none, in illustration of which fact it may be mentioned that during my seven years' apprenticeship I had no one hour's holiday that was not previously paid for by working over- time this at a period when the ordinary hours of labour were sixty-three per week ; yet there is no reason for supposing that others were more liberally treated. Picture to yourself London as it was, say, in the year 1839, the period at which the schoolmaster and I bade each other farewell. The daily newspaper, * At this time a compositor on the " 'stab " in a bookwork house could be called upon to work from six in the morning till ten at night, without any extra for overtime. His wages for this long day was ys. 6d. ; whereas he would now receive about us. and other People. 1 1 without which we almost feel that we could not now exist, was rather an expensive luxury, the price being fivepence for four small pages, so that if a person of humble means desired to become ac- quainted with what was going on around him, he would have to go to a public-house and borrow The Morning Advertiser for five minutes. A placard was generally hung up in the bar requesting gentle- men not to monopolise the current day's paper for more than that time. The Weekly Dispatch (price 6d.) was also a publican's newspaper, and this used to be borrowed by regular outside customers. Communicating by letter to friends at a distance was seldom indulged in, owing to its expense, for the uniform penny rate had not come into operation. I remember that when we received a letter from Scotland the postman demanded one shilling and fourpence before handing it over. It has been stated that Rowland Hill, when courting the lady who became his wife, limited his communications to one in a fortnight, for pecuniary reasons. This would scarcely satisfy modern sweethearts. It was not uncommon, however, to send short messages in an illegal way at a trifling cost. By mutual arrangement this used to be accomplished by pur- chasing a newspaper several days old for about three halfpence, then making a mark under certain letters, which formed words, and posting it, the compulsory stamp rendering it unnecessary to pay any postage. The accompanying extract will explain this method of economically communicating an interesting family 12 Cheating the Post Office. event. The perpendicular line indicates the end of a word : THE MORNING CHRONICLE. L O N~D O N: WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1825. The disclosures made in the Chamber of Deputies on Saturday will not soon be i forgotten in this country. It is now o'penly ayowedj by VILLELE that the disturb- ances in Spain have all been fomented by France, and that his own manifestation of a wish for peace was * t> * . . altogether! assumed, with a view to make the requisite preparations with greater facility. We confess we are not a little embarrassed by the non-chalance with which the French Ministers make these avowals. They must either calculate greatly on the favour or the fears of our Ministers. A secret un- derstanding would go a good way to explain the matter, but we cannot bring ourselves to think so meanly /of Lord LIVERPOOL and Mr. CANNING, as to suppose them guilty of such baseness. But it is not pleasing to think that even these fanatics should presume so much on our supposed inability >to oppose them, as- to hold so in- solent a language. ' One thing must result from the disclosure, that from henceforth no public writer in this country will dare to insult his countrymen by a word in favour of BOURBON Royalists. The situation of the country may dictate There were, of course, no local trains to convey Londoners into the suburbs, or to carry them short distances into the country. The Greenwich Railway Uncomfortable Travelling. 1 3 had certainly been opened for about two years, but the third-class carriages, or trucks, were neither fitted with seats nor covered with a roof, so that travellers were conveyed the five miles under con- ditions less comfortable than those now afforded to cattle. I well remember to have travelled on this line shortly after it had been opened, during a fall of snow, and experiencing the inconvenience which caused Punch to make this protest : " Pity the sorrows of a third-class man, Whose trembling limbs with snow are whitened o'er, Who for his fare has paid you all he can ; Cover him in, and let him freeze no more. This dripping hat my roofless pen bespeaks, So does the puddle reaching to my knees ; Behold my pinched red nose, my shrivelled cheeks ; You should not have such carriages as these." Shillibeer, the undertaker, had commenced run- ning his omnibuses some years previously, the route being from Paddington to the Bank, but the number on the road was limited and the fares were high. The means at the command of the artisan for giving his family a holiday were certainly not encouraging. The sacrifice of a day's pay when wages were low and all the necessaries of life, with the single excep- tion of meat, were much higher than they are now, was a matter of more importance than it is at the present time. The holiday, however, having been resolved upon, let us see how the family proceeded to enjoy themselves. They would probably possess or borrow a child's chaise, constructed to carry two, 14 The Workman's Holiday. having a box at the back to contain food a vehicle very common at that time, but now obsolete and the man and his wife would drag it to the Red House at Battersea, Copenhagen Fields, Highbury Barn, the Rosemary Branch, or some other of the suburban taverns, and regale themselves with beer or tea. There were generally skittle-alleys or bowl- ing-greens for the amusement of the men, while the women gossiped and watched the children playing upon the lawn. Although the means of entertain- ment were thus limited, some amount of pleasure was no doubt derived from the change of scene and the fresh air that is, if the weather proved favour- able, but if otherwise, the holiday ended in disap- pointment and discomfort. At sundown there came the weary journey back, the children crying from fatigue, and on reaching home the man would have to obtain a light by a lengthy operation with a tinder-box and sulphur-match. If any reader can remember those articles of domestic use, he will admit that there could be nothing more irritating to the temper than these primitive means of lighting a candle before the introduction of the friction match. It can scarcely, therefore, be a matter for surprise that such holiday excursions were few and far between, or that working men resorted to the public-house for recreation more frequently than they do now. Nor was this the case with the printer only. At that period the reporters, the critics, and the general utility men connected with the journals of the day, Old Taverns. 15 instead of resorting to well-appointed clubs, as they do at the present time, frequented smoking-saloons and the parlours and tap-rooms of the taverns that were situated in the district that lay between St. Paul's and Charing Cross. I well remember several of these that have passed away, others that have changed their character, and a few that still remain to remind us of the old days. There was Rees's Grand Cigar Divan, in the Strand, the haunt of the well-to-do, where, on payment of one shilling, the visitor was presented with a cigar and an ivory ticket, the latter entitling him to liquid refreshment in the coffee-room above. In Russell Street, Covent Garden, close to Evans's Supper and Concert Rooms, was a favourite meeting-place, called " Tom Kilpack's," where prosperous actors and others used to while away their leisure time, Douglas Jerrold being a frequent visitor. There was the " Old Dog " in Holywell Street, said to have been built upon or near the site of the holy well of St. Clement that gave name to the street ; and " Dormer's," known also as "The Coach and Horses," near St. Mary's Church. Hard by was (and is) the "Edin- burgh Castle," where, it was said, the best mutton- chop and glass of ale could be obtained, served by a most interesting and very independent waiter, who kept a note-book in which was recorded the in- debtedness of many of his customers, for he would trust them on his own responsibility. When in funds they would " tip " him liberally, and when Fortune proved unkind they knew where they 1 6 An Old Printer. could get a chop and a glass on credit. The last time I had a chat with that waiter was on a Christmas morning many years ago. Jonas Levy, who was with me, encouraged him to talk, and he told us that most of his best customers had died, or were becoming too prosperous to frequent the tavern, and that he was about to retire upon his savings. Then there was the " Shakespeare's Head," in Wych Street, once kept by Mark Lemon, the first editor of Punch, on behalf of his mother ; and the " Sheridan Knowles," in Brydges Street. A well- frequented tavern at that time was Peele's Coffee House in Fleet Street, for here files of The Times and other papers were kept for reference. The " Green Dragon," nearly opposite, whose Discussion Forum was once referred to by Napoleon III., was frequented by barristers and journalists. One of the most respectable taverns was "Tne Cock," near Temple Bar, patronised by Tennyson, when he had chambers in Lincoln's Inn Fields, who has sung in praise of the head waiter " Oh, plump head waiter at ' The Cock/ to which I most resqrt." " The Cheshire Cheese," where Johnson and Goldsmith were (erroneously) said to meet, is still, as it was then, the favourite haunt of many newspaper men. AN OLD PRINTER. Besides the long regular hours and unlimited habitual overtime, the conditions under \vhich the printer produced his work were anything but favour- able. Fifty years ago there existed in London but A Character. 1 7 fe\v, if any, buildings that had been constructed as printing-offices. They were, in fact, converted dwelling-houses, with small windows and very scanty sanitary accommodation. The first office which I remember to have entered was one of this kind. It was situated in Crown Court, a narrow, unsavoury thoroughfare that led from the north side of St. Clement Danes churchyard to Little Shire Lane a portion of a disreputable district that was demolished to provide the site for the new Law Courts. The proprietor was one Richard Watts, generally referred to by his employees as " Dicky." It was here that books and papers in the Oriental languages were printed for the East India Company, also Bibles in various languages and dialects for the British and Foreign Bible and other Societies, most, if not all, of which were " worked " at hand-press. Now " Dicky " was certainly what might be termed a character. My only interview with him was the occasion of my delivering to him from my father, who was a bookseller, some Oriental work which he had purchased, and I remember his calling me a " shrimp " (for I was very diminutive) and giving me a tip as a set-off against the insult. Although an educated man conversant with several languages, and engaged in the production of Bibles and other religious publications, he used, when irritated, to indulge in language of a profane character towards his workpeople, who would reply in equally unpar- liamentary terms without any fear of consequences. I worked at press in after years \vith an old Irish- 2 1 8 " The Family Herald." man named Donegan (who, by the way, had printed The Times newspaper at hand-press), and he told me that he liked to work for Dicky Watts better than for anybody else, because there was no nonsense about him. The first time he saw him he was sitting upon a high stool in his little closet, with the door open. " I went up," said he, " and asked him if he wanted a hand at press." Watts turned round, frowned at the man, and made such an ornately unsympathetic reply, that instantly the Irishman's blood was up. He told Dicky in the plainest possible terms that if he would come down from his perch he (Donegan) would subject him to a physical indignity. Watts evidently thought that here was a man after his own heart. He inquired his name, told him he thought there was something in him, and gave him employ- ment. " Since then," said Donegan, " we have been the best of friends." Watts died just over fifty years ago at the age of seventy-seven. When the site of the Law Courts was cleared, Watts's successor re- moved to Gray's Inn Lane, where in 1870 his office was destroyed by fire. Shortly afterwards, what remained of his Oriental type was purchased by Gilbert and Rivington, who still continue that class of business. "THE FAMILY HERALD." Very early in the 'forties I had occasion to visit another printing-office. It consisted of a small shop and parlour in Chandos Street, Covent Garden, where some half-dozen hands were employed, and a kitchen Young and Delcambre's Composing Machine. 19 below, which contained an old wooden press, differ- ing in construction but slightly from that used by William Caxton. The working printer who owned this office was one Samuel Taylor. Previous to embarking in business on his own account he had been employed by Henry Hetherington, who with his Poor Man's Guardian fought so valiantly and suffered so much for the freedom of the newspaper press. Taylor was of course his own reader, and with a view to economy he had the habit of enlisting the services of any lad who happened to call by getting him to play the part of reading-boy for half an hour. This I did on several occasions, which resulted in his inviting me to become his apprentice his first apprentice. On mentioning this to a schoolfellow whose father was a printer, he informed me that there was a machine at work in his father's office that would detrimentally affect the composi- tor's occupation, and invited me to go and see it before I bound myself to learn a trade that might soon be superseded by. the use of machinery. I accordingly went to a small office in One Bell Yard (where the office of John Dicks is now situated) and there I saw the machine referred to. It had the appearance of an upright piano, and was being operated upon by a young woman, a man, and a boy. Being invited to try my hand at it, I set up two or three lines without difficulty, and began to doubt the wisdom of binding myself to learn the art of hand-composition. I thereupon told my would- be employer what I had seen and clone. He smiled, 2O " The Family Herald!" and advised me to note how many lines could be produced in an hour by the machine and the three hands attending upon it. He had heard of the machine, and said he would undertake to teach me in three months to do nearly as much work without the machine as each one of the three persons could do with it. I took his advice and worked diligently under his personal tuition for the period agreed upon, with the result that I was bound apprentice for seven years to the trade of a "compositor and printer." I mention this incident because it has an historical interest. The composing machine referred to was Young and Delcambre's, the first completed instru- ment of the kind, and The Family Herald was started for the purpose of giving it employment. It may not be generally known that this weekly publication was originally issued as a double-demy broadsheet of four pages, like a newspaper, and remained in that form for twenty-three numbers, when it was changed to its present quarto size. The composing machine, which cost a fortune, proved a failure, and its use was soon abandoned, but The Family Herald, which it brought into existence, has been the making of two or three fortunes, and, notwithstanding the competition which it has had to contend with, is still prosperous, although its proprietors have never resorted to giving prizes, or illustrations, or enlarge- ments, or offering exceptional attractions, and in these respects it is perhaps unique. In the spring of 1895 several letters appeared in one of the daily FAMILY HERALD, amusement for tiir fBUlio:i. No, I VOL. I FOR THE WEEK ENDING DECEMBER 17, 1842. PRICE ONE PENNY "^:'it5iS;SS? H?si i^.'^.isrut cti^u^i^s&^'flS* . or *iwtkB el Ubw. or ^Mto te full ft*ii. b* Ti ! tapor >Mdi(teM te poor MmMhrbi W ^hir l. tao Sj;*^** llU^ b pr Airt tl dfe^lld^w''!^.'!!^ ktin&lnrnHkLcMriooKMd tl pwTtar nUU^ .-. !( of tr (ihlUO I tMdl iMfrf Uuac>. HUUH donmoMMnata d Mlhr rahjr lha J?iUiim3b > M SiBlK ^rfSl!| n*7U MOM, 4 BOplT -qi^nd M b n. |h* l-dUJj" t the boTH-. tlUr . Mnewn M vtkb ri Tta ttLrt *Udn^.Midft *fathf ibaa taUHlMU aqrin *tvi Itew. iiinj II inLnj iii^iliMilmC'a^" 1 ^ f^u5S .Li ^2S3 1 ' i*"*" SSS^SS-SiSsSSSSnS i*f b mif ieJ; bt iMtMca >y fcto li*i.uii.. Tta pniodin iiralHI e*f frtKXiMH * pntoNr . H^. Hun i at rttMinn'ngy^C. M! tj cwk tta litL? 1 ^^^^ ^"^^^TTjS^r T Its Origin. 21 papers respecting the foundation of The Family Herald. One was from Mr. Tinsley and another from Mr. Stevens, but neither was altogether cor- rect. The former gentleman said that "it was started by a man of the name of Biggs, Bigs, or Briggs, and was at first a kind of advertising sheet for, I think, a patent medicine." The latter stated that it was started "as a purely literary venture." The fact is, the paper was founded, as I have shown, by Mr. George Biggs, to give employment to Young's composing machine, in which he had some pecuniary interest, and he will ever be grate- fully remembered by printers in connection with the pensions which bear his name, and which are annually administered by the Printers' Pension Corporation. The first number appeared on the i7th of December, 1842, about nine months after I had seen the machine at work at which it was subsequently composed. It was printed at machine by Cox of Great Queen Street (afterwards Cox and Wyman), and Spalding and Hodge supplied the paper. I possess copies of all the numbers in the original size, and it is doubtful if another perfect set exists. The front page of the first number is here given in reduced fac-siinile, which contains a description and woodcut of the composing machine. It will be noted that the words which should have been italicised are "hair-spaced," German fashion, owing to the machine not having been supplied with italic types. THE SKILL OF THE OLD PRESSMAN. Allusion has been made to an old wooden press, which was exactly similar to that now exhibited in the Passmore Edwards Library at the St. Bride Foundation Institute, Bride Lane, Fleet Street. I remember having many a time worked at that press. In fact, it was my duty on Saturday night to lift off the stone, mix up and damp the sawdust in which it was embedded, replace the stone evenly in The Old Wooden Press. 23 the coffin, test the level by pouring water upon it, and then, having driven the carriage under the platen, to pull over and tie the bar to the cheeks of the press, thus leaving it in working condition for the Monday following. Luckombe (1771) describes this, with some trifling improvements, as the " new- fashioned press." If any reader has had a like experience to mine he will be able to appreciate the skill of the old pressman, who produced excellent work with no better appliances than this wooden machine and a couple of leather balls with which to apply the colour. A PRINTER'S PRACTICAL JOKE. Business matters were not, of course, conducted fifty years ago in the precise way in which they are now. If a magazine could not be put to press conveniently on its appointed day, it might be deferred for a day or two without the delay in- volving any serious consequences. One of the first magazines upon which I was employed was a monthly medical journal, edited by an Irishman of some professional repute. He had a strong brogue, and, like many other educated clever men of that day, was sadly addicted to drink. On one occasion the doctor had omitted to forward the copy for the usual leading article, and I was despatched late one evening to Henrietta Street, Cavendish Square, with the message that if the MS. were not sent by return the journal could not be published in time. When 24 A Printer's Joke. admitted into the hall I heard sounds of uproarious merriment, and presently the doctor came out in, let me say, a very unprofessional condition. "What's this, boy ? " said he. I repeated my message. " Tell Taylor to put in a blank and be d - to him ! " he exclaimed, at the same time pushing me out. The reply was duly brought back and delivered literally. Next morning I carried to the doctor a perfect copy of the journal, but with a column and a half blank in the centre. The gentleman had not risen. Presently, however, I was told to go up to his bed- room, and when he opened the paper and discovered the hiatus, he leapt out of bed and used language that in these more refined days does not bear re- peating. He dressed himself as speedily as possible, uttering threats all the while against the poor printer, and we drove back in a cab. When, however, he was told that he was labouring under a misappre- hension, that the journal had not been put to press, and that the copy he had was in fact a proof, he treated the matter as a good joke, sent me out for some spirituous inspiration, and sat down at a com- positor's frame to write the article which was to fill the blank space. "MILES'S BOY." Another man with whom I came in contact during the first year of my apprenticeship was Henry Downes Miles. At that time a literary speculator would start a new journal on a capital of a .10 note. Miles attempted nay, accomplished this, Henry Downes Miles. 25 and brought out a penny paper devoted to sport, the first page of which contained a woodcut outline portrait of some champion pugilist in fighting atti- tude. After several numbers had been issued the woodcut heading warped and split there was no electrotyping in those days. When the proprietor- editor brought his copy for the next number and was told that the heading was broken in halves, he exclaimed, " Thank the gods ! I've been cogitating as to whether I should go on, but I can't bring out a pugilistic paper with a broken head, so let us say its end was pieces." Miles was a most indefatigable journalist, essayist, and novel-writer. He became associated with Bell's Life, then the chief, if not the only, sporting paper, and under the signature of " Miles's Boy " wrote probably the first rhymed prophecies of racing events that were ever pub- lished. He was well educated, being familiar with Greek, Latin, and also modern languages, which he frequently quoted in his sporting articles, thus lifting them above the ordinary reporting level. After a career of upwards of half a century he retired upon a modest competence, but unfortunately his in- vestments in foreign and other securities became valueless, and he had to depend upon charity for some years before he died, which was not till 1889, at the advanced age of eighty-two. One of the Messrs. Rothschild and Mr. G. R. Sims are said to have taken upon themselves the responsibility of relieving the necessities of the old journalist, who had in his time been editorially associated with 26 Drury Lane in the ^Forties. Henry Brougham, Thomas Babington Macaulay, and other celebrated men. DRURY LANE. In reminiscences of this kind it is almost impos- sible to avoid what may be termed autobiographical allusions which connect the incidents. The reader will therefore no doubt pardon a reference to the unimportant fact that the requirements of the busi- ness with which I was connected having outgrown the circumscribed limits of the Chandos Street premises, the plant was removed to a large floor up a stable-yard in Drury Lane. Passing down this thoroughfare the other day, I noticed that many of the houses that stood there fifty years ago had been pulled down, and much-improved structures had taken their place. Once upon a time Drury Lane was a fashionable thoroughfare, where dwelt Sir William Drury, the Earls of Craven and Clare, the Marquis of Argyle, the Earl of Anglesey, and other persons of distinction, including the Queen of Bohemia, daughter of James I., who resided at Drury House in fact, it was a kind of Park Lane. When I first became acquainted with the locality, in the 'thirties, its glories had long since departed, its mansions had given place to much less pre- tentious buildings, and these were growing old and dilapidated. Yet there is no spot that brings to my mind more interesting reminiscences, for it was in the printing-office up George Yard that I first saw Douglas Jerrold, E. L. Blanchard, Thomas Lyttleton George Alfred Walker. 27 Holt, Albert Smith, Frederick Guest Tomlins, George Augustus Sala, G. W. M. Reynolds, and other literary men and journalists of fifty years ago. Nor is this the sole reason why the unsavoury thoroughfare dwells interestingly upon my memory. The Lane was full of character. A novelist could have selected from it a sufficient number of living personages for an exciting plot. Let me recall just a few specimens. "GRAVEYARD WALKER." At the north corner of Blackmore Street (being 101, Drury Lane) lived George Alfred Walker, a very popular medical practitioner. He was a tall, handsome man, always dressed well, and was a great favourite in the neighbourhood, partly on account of his kindness to the poor. It may be passing out of remembrance that it was chiefly owing to an agitation inaugurated by him, and sustained by his exertions, that interments in London graveyards were made illegal. In fact he was for years known by the name of " Graveyard Walker." There can be no doubt that at that time London was drifting towards another plague, but the visitation of the cholera in 1849, which destroyed 13,000 people in London in about four months, hastened the reform so much needed. Dr. Walker was a frequent visitor to the printing-office, for he published several works and numerous tracts upon the subject of intramural burial. Being an enthusiast, he would from time to time describe to us the horrible discoveries he had 28 A Penny Gaff. made as to the condition of the burial-grounds and vaults in the neighbourhood. I was, of course, a youth at that time, and was taken one night by a fellow-apprentice to a show, or " penny gaff," in Clement's Lane, Clare Market. The building had been a place of worship, called Enon Chapel, but had gradually degenerated, and was finally occupied by a low-class Crummies family, to whom I was introduced, and with whom, for the sake of the attendant fun, I trod the stage before a penny audi- ence. The scenery, wardrobe, and properties of this travelling company were of the most primitive de- scription. The plays (if such a term be applicable) were all highly-spiced melodramas, in which villainy came to grief and virtue was rewarded. The pro- prietor had a manuscript book of each, which detailed the plot and gave certain passages which were to be committed to memory and emphasised as " points," with the view of exciting applause, but the chief portion of the dialogue appeared to be improvised. The entertainment was certainly harmless, and seemed to satisfy the patrons of the establishment. One night, as I was leaving the stage-door at the back of the premises, I saw two men throwing bones into a cart, together with pieces of coffins, which appeared to be taken out of a cellar beneath the chapel or theatre. This incident I related next day to Dr. Walker, who visited the place, and succeeded in having the show immediately closed, for he discovered that beneath the building and its adjacent yard some thousands of bodies had been An Old Newsvendor. 29 buried. London has never properly recognised the debt of gratitude it owes to George Alfred Walker, the Drury Lane doctor, who afterwards lived for many years in retirement at Barmouth, and died there a few years ago at the age of seventy-five. BLIND COX. Nearly opposite to Dr. Walker's dispensary was a newspaper shop, then kept by a blind man named Cox, whose sense of touch was so acute that he could pick out the newspapers and periodicals required by his customers, and take money and give change with perfect accuracy. At that time there were, of course, no penny dailies. It was customary for newsvendors to lend the morning papers for an hour each day for from sixpence to a shilling per week, and to solicit orders from provincial customers to whom these same papers would be despatched by the evening post, the usual charge being 245. per quarter. The postage cost nothing, as the compulsory stamp franked them ; in fact, a newspaper could be sent post free from place to place within a certain number of days from the date of publication a considerable advantage when the cost of a paper was fivepence. At times, when the news was important, there would be an extra demand for the papers, and they would become scarce ; when otherwise, the vendors would probably have some left on hand. As most of the newsagents were bound to despatch copies to their 3nl P l " eR .'P"''. JI ''i"ir"el}Eu,b.ll,,l,cJ. with Aew S. nuTT. and entire), Illuminated with Gas, WILL OPEN, n.etioi.ed k , ,h, ,,, ,,. AMIm - This Present THTKSDAY, Scp(ernber25. 1823, Tl. ^a >imrlr> ACADEMY. CATHERIME ST. STBJUTO. MISS ( LUMKMS S M(. IIT. OB MONDAY, APRIL 11, 1H42. Will be pn-^nirf ibeipleiulid MeLxInm of the TOWER OF 1HU Mr. E. WILSON. 64 " Stage Struck." wage war against such immorality as had charac- terised the previous occupation of the building. It may be added that Mr. Horace Voules, now the acting editor of Truth, who received his practical education in "the Yard," was the first manager of TJic Echo, in the starting of which I had the pleasure of assisting him, and that its first editor was Mr. (afterwards Sir) Arthur Arnold, now chairman of the London County Council. "STAGE STRUCK." As before intimated, I had acquired from my early surroundings a liking for play-acting, which is an insidious and dangerous penchant. I was cured of this weakness, however,- by a humorous incident. A dramatic club, of which I was a member, elected to play " Henry IV." at the City of London Theatre. The very subordinate part of Bardolph fell to my lot. I considered tragedy was rather in my line, but our manager always cast me in small comic parts, owing, let us say, to professional jealousy. If we played " Hamlet," I was First Gravcdigger; if " The Merchant of Venice," then I had to inter- pret Launcelot Gobbo, and so jpn. Now the part of Bardolph depends more upon "make-up" and by- play than upon elocutionary effort. For the latter I was indebted to Mrs. R. Homier, the lessee, who kindly gave me many valuable hints ; for " make- up " I was dependent upon the barber. In those days there were two small tradesmen who usually supplied us and most other amateurs with costumes Amateur Theatricals. 65 and wigs, Samuel May and W. Clarkson. Although the principals have long since passed away, the firms still exist, but they would now decline with con- tempt such orders as were gladly accepted nearly fifty years ago. Clarkson was proud of his profes- sion. The task of converting an elderly subject into a youthful lover, or a lad of eighteen into an old man, gave him, I believe, more pleasure than the receipt of his fee. On the occasion to which I refer, after disposing of Falstaff, he inquired for BardolpJi, and was much amused when a very youthful aspirant placed himself under his hands. " Now," said he, " if there is one make-up more than another upon which I pride myself, it's Bardolph," and with that he arranged his pigments, various-coloured wafers, and other matters, and proceeded to build up his conception of what the portrait should be. It was an elaborate piece of work. Every now and again, after using his brushes and wafers, he would take a few steps backward with t-he air of an artist to test their effect. Finally, he declared the result perfec- tion, but lamented that he could not have it copied as a picture. On rising from the chair I felt as if I wore a plaster mask, hut was content to suffer in the cause of art. The play went well, and the actors were honoured with a complimentary call. Having nothing to do in the last act, I removed with some difficulty Clarkson's masterpiece, and hurried to the front in order to escort a young lady whom I had taken to see the play. "Well," said I, "what did you think of the performance ? " " Very well, for 5 66 John Cassell. amateurs" There was a coolness about the tone I did not like. " Don't you think Falstaff quite a success?" "Pretty well." I intended to lead up to some reference to the part in which I had the greatest interest, feeling certain that I should receive a compliment which I would highly value. My intention, however, was frustrated. My fair com- panion closed the conversation by saying that if ever I made such a guy of myself again, she would have nothing more to say to me. And I have not, for that was my last appearance on the stage. JOHN CASSELL. Shortly after my term of apprenticeship had expired I was offered, and gladly accepted, a situa- tion in the office of John Cassell, who had recently started in business as a printer and publisher at 335, Strand, which had some years previously been the office of The Morning Post. This, however, was not my first introduction to Mr. Cassell. My maternal grandfather, John Williams, was a native of the same town as Cassell, and followed the same trade. He had served as chief carpenter in His Majesty's navy, had retired from the service, and had set up in business as a carpenter and undertaker in Duke Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields. It was in this street (now renamed Sardinia Street) that Benjamin Franklin lodged when working as a journeyman printer at Watts's office in the neighbouring Wild Court. Williams was a devout Methodist, and a The Temperance Movement. 67 constant attendant at the services held in Great Queen Street Chapel, where he was a Bible-class teacher. Being a sincere and energetic - man, although somewhat advanced in years, he took an active interest in local missionary work in the neighbourhood of the now disappearing Clare Market. He soon realised that one of the chief impediments to "the spread of the Gospel," to use his own words, was the almost universal habit of intemperate drinking, and became a member of the limited band of enthusiasts who started one of the earliest temperance societies established in London. I remember that his " pledge " ticket, which was framed and hung up in his workshop, was " No. 4." When John Cassell first came to London in 1837 he brought a letter of introduction to my grandfather from a fellow-tradesman in Manchester, and began to assist him in the crusade against the prevailing evil. Their plan of operations was this : some half-dozen temperance advocates would assemble near to a public-house, my uncle Alexander (the youngest of my grandfather's children, about the age of Cassell) would play a tune or two on his flageolet, and when this had attracted a group of listeners the real proceedings would commence with a brief prayer by my grandfather, this being followed by an energetic address from John Cassell. Those were rough times, and that was a rough neighbourhood, and it not unfrequently happened that the speaker and his associates would be 68 A Deserved Rebuke. assaulted and driven away with such missiles as the street afforded. They were, however, not the men to be daunted ; they persevered, obtained the sympathy of the women, who were the greatest sufferers, and ultimately established a society numbering some hundreds of total abstainers. I well remember to have been taken by John Williams and John Cassell to a meeting held in a hall in Milton Street, Finsbury, at which they both delivered addresses, and while returning we met a drunken man staggering from side to side along the footpath. Cassell, as \vas his wont, improved the occasion by expressing the hope that when I became a man I would never be a slave to "the cursed drink." Some years after- wards, when visiting my grandfather, who had retired from business, I told him where I was employed. "And how is my friend, John Cassell ?" he inquired. I replied that he was prospering. Some one who was present injudiciously remarked, " Cassell was only a carpenter, I think." The old man exclaimed, " Only a carpenter ! Tell me, lad, who is there that need be ashamed of being a carpenter, or a carpenter's sou?" The exclamation was rendered additionally impressive by his laying his hands upon a Bible which lay before him. This occurred in 1850. John Williams lived to be upwards of eighty, and died in his armchair with an open Bible before him. John Cassell had, in July, 1848, commenced his publishing career by starting a weekly newspaper, " The Standard of Freedom" 69 The Standard of Freedom, which was printed at 335, Strand, by William Cathrall, whose plant Cassell ultimately purchased. The price of the paper was 4^d., but was increased to 5d. Some years previously, however, he had commenced trading as a wholesale tea and coffee merchant in Abchurch Lane, City. This venture prospered ex- ceedingly. He had appointed agents in all the large towns, and John Cassell's name in connection with coffee and tea (the latter being 5s. per Ib.) was well known throughout the country. It was not until he had thus established a flourishing and lucrative business, then removed to 80, Fen- church Street, that he turned his attention to the more speculative one of publishing. The Standard of Freedom, though an excellent paper, was at no period of its existence a financial success. One of its chief features was the promotion of emigra- tion to Australia and Canada. Cassell formulated a co-operative scheme to assist farmers and others with limited capital to try their fortune in the colonies, and sought the help of the Colonial Office ; but after a protracted and unsatisfactory correspondence with the officials, he became dis- heartened, and reluctantly abandoned the idea. The Standard of Freedom came to an end on October 4, 1851, by being incorporated with The Weekly Ncu's and Chronicle, and Cassell turned his attention to more popular educational works. In January, 1850, he started The Working Man's Friend, a penny weekly octavo journal, which 7o " The Working- Man's Friend" obtained a considerable circulation ; and in the following May began to issue Cassell's Library in sevenpenny monthly volumes of 144 pages, which ran to 26 volumes. It may be here mentioned, parenthetically, that another gentleman, who has since prospered, and conferred inestimable benefits upon the public, commenced his publishing career at this time, for it was in June, 1850, that Mr. Passmore Edwards issued a twopenny monthly magazine, entitled, The Public Good, which contained con- tributions from Prof. Graham, Dr. Massie, Thomas Beggs, Paxton Hood, Edward Miall, W. J. Fox, Elihu Burritt, and Westland Marston a goodly array of well-known names. Cassell had not only a strong desire to en- courage working people to educate themselves, but he entertained a belief that they could assist each other if opportunity were afforded them ; he accordingly offered prizes for papers to be written by persons who gained their living by working at some trade. These contributions were printed and issued as monthly supplements to The Working Man's Friend, but entitled The Literature of Working Men. It is worth recording that the first number contained an article " By J. A. Langford, chair- maker, Birmingham." This gentleman, who is still living, is John Alfred Langford, LL.D., F.R.H.S., the author of "A Century of Birmingham Life," and other works. The second number contained the first literary effort of a very remarkable old " The Illustrated Exhibitor" 71 woman, "Janet Hamilton, shoemaker's wife, Lang- loan, Lanarkshire." Although uneducated, never having attended a school, she composed many essays and poems which were subsequently pub- lished, and which entitled her, according to a writer in Pniicli, "to a niche in the temple of fame." John Bright once paid a visit to her humble home, and declared her to be the most remarkable old lady that he ever heard of. In the third number a contribution appeared " By Robert Whelan Boyle, printer, Camden Town," whom I afterwards knew as a printer's reader, and who became the first editor of The Daily Chronicle. The success which had attended several of Mr. Cassell's publications, although but moderate, was sufficient to induce him to project a more ambitious undertaking. The Great Exhibition building was fast approaching completion, the papers were filled with matters relating to the impending World's Fair, and, taking advantage of the popular excitement, he made arrangements for producing a record of the event, to be fully illustrated with what were then deemed high-class engravings. About a fortnight before the date of publication of the first number he ordered advertisements to be inserted in the newspapers to the extent of ^100, which his manager said he considered somewhat extravagant. Cassell struck the table with his fist and said, " This exhibition time everybody is going to stand on tip- toe, and if I don't do the same I sha'n't be seen, so spend the money." The result more than realised 72 La Belle Sauvage Yard. his expectations. When the first number was pub- lished (June 7, 1851), the whole of the copies printed were sold the same day, and more were required. The machines rolled on day after day to meet the demand, and when the formes were released (it may again be remarked that electrotyping, although described by Savage in 1841, had not come into use) the " matter " had to be boiled in ley before the types could be separated. This was the turning- point in that part of his career. He believed the success of The Illustrated Exhibitor was mainly owing to the pictures, and from that time illustra- tions formed a chief attraction of Cassell's publi- cations. At the end of the year 1851 there was a change of management in Mr. Cassell's establishment, pre- vious to its removal to La Belle Sauvage Yard. As was then the custom of the trade, the whole of the staff received notice. Being desirous of widening my experience, I did not seek a re-engagement, but went to an old-fashioned bookwork house in Alders- gate Street, Messrs. Joseph Masters & Son, where a friend of mine was employed. It was so old- fashioned that they had not yet availed themselves of the use of stereotype, but recomposed their books for every edition. The principal was a quaint old gentleman, who had a natural objection to see types lying upon the floor, as sometimes happens even at the present day, notwithstanding the advance of technical education. On one occasion, as he was " The Politician:' 73 passing through the composing-room, he exclaimed, " Dear me ! dear me ! If compositors were cocks and hens, and types were barleycorns, the floor would indeed be cleaner" a hint that had a salu- tary effect. Having in a few months acquired a knowledge of the method of working adopted in an exclusively bookwork office, where everything was done "on the piece," I sought employment on a daily paper, The Politician, upon which work commenced at six o'clock in the morning, and ter- minated about eleven. It did not live long, but I was thus enabled to complete my technical edu- cation, having been engaged upon every kind of compositor's work incidental to the trade. Samuel Taylor had by this time removed from Drury Lane to Graystoke Place, Fetter Lane, ex- tended his plant, and laid down machinery. He had also taken as a partner the former printing manager of Messrs. Bradbury & Evans, named Greening, and to Taylor & Greening's I went in a managerial capacity. One day two gentlemen came to the office and inquired if we could produce a morning paper. Here was an opportunity of showing my employers what I could do, and of making good use of my very limited experience in that direction. I at once replied that we should be prepared to undertake it, especially as they intimated that they did not expect it to attain a large circulation at first, although they believed it would gradually increase. Arrangements were subsequently made with the printers of The 74 " The Daily Telegraph." Weekly Dispatch to machine the paper on their Middleton "four-feeders" if the circulation exceeded our means of production. An estimate of cost was accordingly submitted to Col. Arthur Burroughes Sleigh, which was declared to be satisfactory. My employers had wisely inserted as a condition that the sum of fifty pounds should be paid down as a deposit, which was to be forfeited if the paper were suddenly stopped, as in that case a fortnight's wages in lieu of notice would have to be paid to the men employed. This condition, however, appeared to be a difficulty, for after some correspondence the matter dropped. We heard shortly afterwards that David Aird, a printer in Exeter Street, Strand, had undertaken the contract without a deposit, and thus I missed being present at the birth of The Daily Telegraph and Courier. Many years after (1867) I undertook to produce another morning paper, The Day. In this case a deposit of ^500 was lodged in a bank under similar conditions, and its forfeiture just prevented the transaction from being a loss, for the paper stopped suddenly after an issue of forty- one numbers. " THE FIELD." The Field newspaper was started by Messrs. Brad- bury & Evans on the ist of January, 1853, several of the literary and artistic contributors to Punch being engaged upon it. After vainly endeavouring to obtain a paying circulation, the proprietors dis- posed of it to Benjamin Webster, the lessee of the " The Field." 75 Adelphi Theatre, who, I understood, purchased it in the hope that it might be made a property for the benefit of his son. With a view to reduce the cost of production, Webster removed the printing from Bradbury's, and placed it in the hands of a young and enterprising firm of printers, Messrs. Fetter & Galpin, who occupied a portion of The Times pre- mises in Playhouse Yard, Blackfriars, and whose steam power was derived from The Times engine, a shaft being passed through a hole in the wall. Here it remained till May, 1854, when Greening, who was acquainted with the proprietor and editorial staff, obtained the contract to print it, and its production was entrusted to me. At this time a gentleman named William Knight was the general editor, whose services were rewarded with a weekly hono- rarium of four pounds, which he generally drew in advance. Mr. Robert Soutar, the actor, and husband of Miss Nellie Farren, was the racing editor and general utility man, and Shirley Brooks, who became the editor of Punch on the death of Mark Lemon, wrote the leading articles, for which, I presume (from the terms of a letter in my pos- session written by him to Webster), he was paid ten guineas per month. There were, of course, several other contributors whose names I forget, but I well remember that each would supply more copy than his allotted share, and when the time came for " making up " the paper, there was always a quarrel arising out of the question as to what should be omitted, the printer having sometimes to settle the 76 Ralph Harrison point for himself, in order to put the paper to press in time for the morning mails. Webster used naturally to complain bitterly at having to pay for 'overmatter" which never appeared except in slip. After losing between eight and nine thousand pounds, and obtaining a circulation but little ex- ceeding 4,000 copies, Webster sold the paper to Serjeant Cox for a small sum in December, 1854, glad enough to get rid of so expensive an encum- brance. It is needless to add that, under the energetic management of its new proprietor, it became, and is now, one of the most successful and most lucrative weekly papers in existence. Of the original contributors to The Field all have passed away except Mr. Harrison Weir who showed me over his beautiful garden at Sevenoaks but the other da and Mr. Robert Soutar. RALPH HARRISON. Two very efficient members of our printing staff who had been employed on The Field, Joseph Ellis and Ralph Harrison, came to me one day and stated that The Daily Telegraph was about to start a printing- office of its own, and that they had been offered a tempting engagement one as printer and the other as sub-editor and I parted with them regretfully. Ellis's name as printer appeared in The Telegraph from that date till the time of his death, many years afterwards, and Harrison remained as chief sub-editor till he became editor of The Birmingham Daily Gazette, in which he acquired a proprietary and " The Daily Telegraph? 77 share. I heard from both of these gentlemen, who were charged with the business management of the paper in its early days, that they often had to borrow money to pay the men, and knew not, from week to week, how long it could hold out. In an article on " The Newspaper Press," which appeared in The Quarterly Review of October, 1880, the writer says that " but for the boldness and self-sacrifice of the then manager (Mr. Harrison), The Daily Telegraph could at one time hardly have surmounted its diffi- culties." In a speech which Mr. Harrison delivered at a Press dinner, he alluded to his experience as sub-editor, and thus described the nature of his duties : " My staff, for economical reasons, was a very small one, and we toiled late and early to make the paper as good as possible, the pecuniary circum- stances considered. My duties were something like these : Get out of bed at ten in the morning, write a leading article, bring it down wi4;h me for the printer, and then go on with the sub-editing till the early hours of the next morning. A few hours' sleep, and then at it again." For fifteen years he held the position of sub-editor, at the end of which period he had the satisfaction of being able to boast of having "the largest circulation in the world." Harrison had on his staff a colleague who, although thoroughly competent and an excellent fellow, was addicted to occasionally introducing into his articles ingenious references to business firms. He had been told off on one occasion to describe some such function as a Cattle or Horse 78 A Reporters " Puff." Show, and during the week a hat-box found its way into Harrison's room, addressed to the said reporter, with Messrs, the Manufacturers' Compliments. This aroused suspicion, but Harrison wondered how a " puff " of a hatter could possibly be introduced into such a most unlikely subject as that for which the clever writer was entered, and was so curious that he kept a special eye on the proof. When it reached him he was much amused on discovering the adroit manner in which an evidently imaginary incident had been introduced a restive animal had nearly caused an alarming accident, " which fortunately resulted in nothing more serious than the total destruction of one of Messrs. So-and-So's hats." Harrison allowed the passage to stand, no doubt smiled pleasantly, but altered the name to that of the maker of the hat he himself wore, to the horror of the writer and the disappointment of the hatter who had made a complimentary presentation. On leaving The Daily Telegraph to occupy the editorial chair of The Birmingham Gazette, Harrison was entertained by his brother journalists at a dinner at the Crystal Palace, and was the recipient of a costly testimonial. His editorial career in Bir- mingham was exceedingly successful, but it was prematurely and suddenly terminated by an almost fatal occurrence. One night or rather morning he left his office, after seeing his paper to press, and was proceeding as usual to his home in the suburbs, when he was waylaid by a band of ruffians, who garroted and robbed him, and left him lying in the " Diogenes" 79 road insensible. So serious were the injuries he received that he was unable to resume his duties, and therefore was compelled to tender his resigna- tion. For upwards of a year he was under medical treatment. After travelling in search of health for some time, he returned to London, and called upon me with reference to a proposed purchase of a London local paper. This resulted in his becoming the proprietor of The Marylcbone Mercury, which he edited and managed till his death in 1894. Sir Edwin Arnold, in a letter of condolence addressed to his family, wrote : " He will always live in my friendly memory as a brave, capable, and inde- fatigable colleague." " DIOGENES." When the proprietor of a newspaper or publica- tion discovers that he has made a mistake, and that he is offering something to the public which they will not buy, he has but little difficulty in deciding upon his course of action. When it happens, how- ever, that a moderate measure of success is attained, which seems to require but perseverance to ensure prosperity, the case presents a totally different pro- blem for solution, and its attempted solution may prove ruinous. The history of a comic weekly publication called Diogenes was an instance of this kind. It commenced its career with the year 1853, the nominal proprietor and editor being Robert Kemp Philp. The necessary capital was, however, provided by an unseen hand, and the editing was 8o " Diogenes " Cartoon. CARTOON BY \V. XEXVMAX. ultimately undertaken by Watts Phillips, who also furnished many of the designs for the "cartoons." The other artists engaged upon it were W. Newman and C. H. Bennett, while Robert Brough, E. Shelton, Contributors to " Diogenes? Si and Watts Phillips supplied most of the "copy." I was responsible for the mechanical production of Diogenes, and was of course in constant communica- tion with the gentlemen named, and had the further privilege of frequently contributing to its columns. With the exception of The Puppet Show (1848), CHIEK CONTRIBUTORS TO " DIOGENES." Punch had never had a more promising rival. The mismanagement of the Crimean War afforded excel- lent subjects for the cartoonist, who made the most of his opportunity, and these full-page designs will bear favourable comparison with those of any of the comic papers that have since appeared, always ex- cepting the work of Sir John Tenniel. Watts Phillips contributed a series of trenchant essays, entitled, " Thoughts in Tatters, by the Ragged Philosopher," and Robert Brough wrote for it his "Songs of the 6 82 " Copy " Wanted. Peerage," both strongly imbued with extreme Radical sentiments. At the head of the " Preface " to the last volume of Diogenes appeared portraits of the chief contributors, which are reproduced on p. 81. The paper struggled on for nearly three years. Sometimes a particularly happy cartoon would send up the circulation within a short distance of the paying point, but it never " turned the corner." One evening, when the paper had to be put to press, I informed Watts Phillips, who with Robert Brough was in the office, that we required a column of matter to complete the number. They told me that they were going to the " Edinburgh Castle " for a chop, and if I would send a boy there in an hour it would be forthcoming. The boy went, and re- turned with the message that they had both left. The paper was made up with a blank column, which could not be filled up " tit-bits " fashion, for the matter had to be original. After waiting anxiously for some time, in the hope that the editor or his MS. would turn up, I sent for a copy of The Times, hit upon a current topic, and proceeded to fill up the blank space with doggerel.* As this enforced impromptu contribution may in some measure be responsible for the sudden demise of Diogenes, for it lived but another week, it may perhaps be quoted as an additional example of what to avoid. * This incident the want of a column of matter at the time of putting to press a comic weekly paper, reference to a newspaper for a subject, the writing of a rhymed parody, with the repetition of a four-line refrain was introduced by Robert Brough into his story of " Marston Lynch," which appeared some time afterwards in The Train (vol. ii. p. 9), but the author attributed it to the editor, not the printer. An Impromptu Contribution. 83 "WHAT TO EAT, DRINK, AND AVOID. New Edition. As SUNG BY DR. NORMANDY WITH ALARMING EFFECT. " Unless a man's meat and his beverage Is fit for consumption, it's void, So the best thing to learn in this clever age Is what to eat, drink, and avoid. Of chemistry I'm a professor, Well versed in oxides, et cetera, And though by some deemed an aggressor, My aim's but to make your food betterer,* For I've analysed everything sold you And found all with poison alloyed, So listen awhile to have told you What to eat, drink, and avoid. " To begin, then, with bread ' unfermented, To call which ' digestive ' 's a trick, 'Tis the vilest of compounds invented, Indigestible quite as a brick. What with acid carbonic for yeast And ground bones and alum for flour, You must own it's not fit for a beast, Much less for a man to devour. For I've analysed everything sold you, &c. (Four lines to fill out.) " Mere carrots and chick'ry 's your Mocha, For coffee you can't set your eye on, And choc'late 's half brick-dust and ochre With fat and peroxide of iron. If slim, and you cocoa nibs take, In the hope of becoming robusty, Depend on't you've made a mistake, For they're never disposed of till musty. For I've analysed, &c. (four lines). * " When the exigence of rhyme compels Orthography forgets her spells." W. S. GILBERT, The Grand Duke (1896). 84 More Doggerel. " Regarding your favourite drink, Which you purchase as some one's ' entire,' You're entirely wrong if you think They will serve you with what you require. It is merely a mixture of brine, With sulphate of iron and gentian And quassia, and really, in fine With things far too nasty to mention. For I've analysed, &c. (four lines). " If inclined to indulge in a glass Of hot brandy or cold gin without. You'll not do so unless you're an ass, Unacquainted with what you're about ; For gin is but paradise grains, With alum and potass bicarbonate, Besides other stuff it contains, With a similar quantum of harm in it. For I've analysed, &c. (four lines). '' Let not viands nor fluids entice, In case you a victim may fall, But act on this piece of advice And eat and drink nothing at all. For there's nothing that grows or is made But some poison or other contains, So if starving, to eat yet afraid, Get a pistol and blow out your brains. For I've analysed, &c. (four lines)." When Philp determined to abandon Diogenes, after a loss of about .5,000, Watts Phillips and Shelton proposed to carry it on, but Philp declined to accede to their request ; " I wish," he said, " to guard against our influence falling into unworthy hands." The pictorial tailpiece to the last number was a figure of " Diogenes surrendering his pen to Punch." Philp was the compiler and proprietor of Another Comic Paper. 85 a book, the sale of which has far exceeded a million copies, " Enquire Within upon Everything." This passed through my hands when first brought out. "THE COMIC TIMES." The same day that saw the demise of Diogenes (August i, 1855), gave birth to another comic paper, which was produced at the same office. Some serious misunderstanding had arisen between Messrs. Bradbury & Evans, the proprietors of Punch, and Mr. Herbert Ingram, the proprietor of the Illustrated London News. This resulted in the latter gentleman projecting a worthy rival to the. all-powerful Punch, which was to be called The Comic Times. Edmund Yates, a young man about twenty-five years of age, engaged at the Post Office, was appointed editor, and he gathered round him all the suitable talent then available. His staff included William Brough (who had been a printer) as sub-editor, John Oxen- ford (then the dramatic critic of The Times), E. L. Blanchard, Robert Brough, G. A. Sala, Albert Smith, Edward Draper, Godfrey Turner, and Frank Scuda- more, all able and better-known men than their chief. The illustrations were supplied by C. H. Bennett, W. McConnell, W. Newman, A. Henning, and also by R. Brough. As may be supposed, there seemed every prospect of the publication becoming a success, especially as there was unlimited capital at command to support it during its initial stage. Nearly all the professional wits of that day who had 86 The Comic Times" been, or desired to be, engaged upon Punch, with hopeful satisfaction the probability of a pros- perous rival, which would afford them an oppor- tunity of showing that the outsiders were equal to the favoured ones of Whitefriars. In the first number appeared the commencement of a series of articles entitled, "The Hermit in the Box, being the Experience of a Stage Doorkeeper," from the pen of G. A. Sala. For the second number Bennett contributed a drawing illustrating the subject which I had treated in Diogenes the week previous, and Robert Brough introduced a personality, " Billy Barlow," which became a favourite weekly feature. I have always suspected that " The Barlow Papers " suggested the idea of " Ally Sloper." Mr. Barlow is supposed to call upon the editor, and having sent up his card (a pawnticket) obtains an interview. " He C. H. Bennett's Cartoon. DEATH IN* THE POT. said he did not see how we could get on without him, and had put himself a little out of the way to call and offer his services. Thanking him for the overwhelming consideration, we respectfully inquired in what particular essential point our existence might be said to be defective in the event of his withholding his valuable countenance. He replied, ' Most things.' He had not yet considered the exact form his co-operation would take, but that if we would let him have something on account he would think it over and let us know. Anxious to conci- 88 Billy Barlow. Hate an individual occupying so exalted a position in the public favour, and being very busy, we considered it extremely cheap to get rid of him for fourpence. Mr. Barlow accepted that sum with great condescension, and, informing us that we should hear from him, he took his leave." WILLIAM BARLOW'S FIRST CONTRIBUTION. Ladies and gentlemen, how do you do ? My appearance in print, you will say, is quite new ; But the fact is, I should have been there long ago The world wants a few writers like Billy Barlow. Oh, dear ! raggedy, oh ! There was Dickens, Carlyle now there's Billy Barlow. The Emperor Napoleon remarked t'other day, " My Great Exhibition here somehow don't pay ; How the deuce shall I manage to make it ' a go ' ? " Says the Empress, " Send over for Billy Barlow." Oh, dear ! raggedy, oh ! " Here ! the telegraph, quick ! for young Billy Barlow. Billy Barlow. 89 So I packed my portmanteau, and off I soon set ; At the station a lot of low touters I met ; And they cried out, " Dieppe and Xewhaven " ; but no, Says I, " Dover and Calais for Billy Barlow." Oh, dear ! raggedy, oh ! Time is money to statesmen like Billy Barlow. We landed at Calais. " Your passport ? " says they. " 'Aint got one," says I. They'd have walked me away, But a swell in big epaulettes cries out, " Hulloa ! Laisscz passer, milord, Mounseci- Guillaumc Barlow ! Oh, dear ! a nice sort of go, There'd ha' been if they'd meddled with Billy Barlow. To a cafe I went, on the quiet, to dine ; But I'd scarcely sat down to my oysters and wine, When I heard in the hall footsteps come to and fro, And some voices were asking for Mounseer Barlow. Oh, dear ! raggedy, oh ! Deputations were waiting on William Barlow. Off to Paris I went by the half-past eight train ; As the crowd cheered me onward folks asked, " C'cst la Reinc ? La belle Rcine Victoria ? " The answer was " No ; 'Tis the first of her subjects, Lord William Barlow." Oh, dear, some respect please to show This is not Lord John Russell, but Billy Barlow. At the breaking of day we to Paris drew near ; All the luggage was looked at by critics severe ; When I offered my own, said the Douanier, " No ! You're the Emperor's visitor, Mister Barlow." Oh, dear ! raggedy, oh ! " Pass the bundle and tooth-brush of William Barlow." 9O Billy Barlow. So I walked into town to find somewhere to sleep, But the lodgings they offered were nasty and cheap I could meet with none over ten guineas or so For the night, which would never suit Billy Barlow. Oh, dear ! anything low Is distasteful extremely to Billy Barlow. I preferred a short walk in the Champs Ely-sees All prepared for a grand 'lamination display There I noticed the names, for the firework show, Of Victoria and Albert, and Billy Barlow. Oh, dear ! may the French never know, What it is to want England and Billy Barlow. Soon I dropped off to sleep 'neath a popular tree, But was roused by the words, "On nc dortpas id." 'Twas a rough man in blue, who, 'twould seem, didn't know What was due to the person of Billy Barlow. Oh, dear ! raggedy, oh ! They've just called the case on of Billy Barlow ! For the seventh number Gustave Dore supplied four illustrations to an article entitled " Reminis- cences of our Visit to Paris." Although the sale of the paper was not so great as might reasonably have been expected, chiefly owing to its being neither advertised nor "pushed," the press wel- comed it heartily, and its circulation increased weekly. Probably remembering what effect an almanack had upon the fortunes of Punch in its early days, Yates prepared a Comic Times Almanack, which compared favourably with any- thing of the kind its rival had at that time produced. End of " The Comic Times:'' 91 For this Robert Brough and C. H. Bennett had jointly designed an elaborate title-page, which was very attractive. The edition printed of the Almanack was at once sold, and we were much disappointed at being informed that it was not to be reprinted. The fact was, that although the editor and his staff were joyous and hopeful, there was at work a detrimental influence of which they were totally ignorant. Mark Lemon was not only editor of Punch, but acted as private secretary to Herbert Ingram. Realising that The Comic Times was proving far too strong a rival, he used his best endeavours to bring about a reconciliation between his two employers, and this he ultimately effected, to the disgust of Edmund Yates and the disappointment of his staff. After a brief but brilliant career of sixteen num- bers, Ingram abandoned the child which in pique he had brought into existence, and although Robert Brough and some others of the contributors endea- voured to lengthen its life, it went the way of so many other rivals to Punch. AN AWKWARD FIX. In the following year I found myself again engaged upon the works of John Cassell, who had become associated with Messrs. Fetter & Galpin, then in Playhouse Yard, Blackfriars. " Cassell's History of England " had just commenced ptibli- 92 An Awkward Fix. cation in weekly numbers. J. F. Smith, a very popular writer of fiction, had been contributing to The London Journal the " Lives of the Queens of England," and probably for that reason he was engaged to write the " History." This was by no means a happy arrangement. Smith was not suffi- ciently industrious to make any subject a study ; his eagerness to describe dramatic situations was likely to carry him away from* dry historical fact into the realms of fancy ; and a matter of more importance from a printer's point of view his delivery of " copy " was uncertain. After a brief period, therefore, the work was placed in more competent hands, William Howitt having under- taken at a short notice to continue it. It happened to be a part of my duty to superintend the "setting up " of this work, the MS. for which was in the early stage delivered "at the latest moment." One evening, when the compositors were engaged upon the current number, an accident happened, the serious nature of which printers will readily appre- ciate. It was a sultry summer's night, the heat from the gas increasing the natural temperature, and the men had opened the windows to let in a little fresh air. When in full swing, a compositor came to me with a melancholy countenance and apologetic air, and informed me that a leaf of his "copy" had been blown out of a window. It used to be a jocular instruction, by the way, when an author desired his punctuation to be observed : " Follow your copy, even if it goes out of the window." Scouts were William Howitt. 93 immediately sent out to search the neighbourhood around The Times office, in the hope that the truant paper might have escaped the roofs and fluttered down into one of the adjacent courts, but they returned without finding it. The only remedy was obvious. I travelled to West Hill Lodge, Highgate, fortunately found Mr. Howitt at home, explained the nature of the accident, and handed to him the preceding and following pages of MS. He naturally felt annoyed, but sat down and filled up the gap. The subject of supernaturalism, upon which he wrote a book, was then occupying his thoughts, and somehow our conversation drifted into that channel. He told me of a circumstance that had recently occurred to himself. There was a child, the daughter of a friend, of whom he was exceedingly fond, and the attachment seemed to be mutual. One evening, while sitting alone at his table, he received from her a mental communication, inform- ing him that she was very ill and desired to see him. " Now," said Howitt (as nearly as I can remember), "when I had last seen her, about a fortnight pre- viously, she was in perfect health, and there was nothing to lead me to suppose that any change had taken place, nor was I at the time thinking of her. I had never before experienced anything of so decided a character, and I resolved at once to test its actuality. On reaching the house of my friend I was greeted as if expected, and the little feverish patient told me she knew I would come, as she had in thought sent me a message. How can you 94 Forme Knocked Out account for that ? " I told in return a ghostly story that related to a member of my own family, and we talked on till past midnight, when, care- fully pocketing the "copy," I walked back more cheerful than when I set out. "THE MEDICAL TIMES." The narration of the foregoing accident reminds me of another, even more serious, which occurred during my apprenticeship. One of the journals upon which we were engaged was The Medical Times, which had been started some years pre- viously in opposition to The Lancet, the property of Mr. Wakley, the coroner. One night, when the paper was being made up for press, the compositors were, as usual, dismissed one by one as they com- pleted their work, until, some time after midnight, but four remained the printer, his deputy, and two apprentices, myself being one. All the formes had been locked up ready for the machine except the last that containing pages 1-16, full of small type advertisements, and 8-9, devoted to leader matter. This having been completed and likewise locked up, my fellow-apprentice, who was a rather erratic youth, and disposed to display his strength, instead of obtaining the assistance of a second person in order carefully to remove the forme from the im- posing stone, lifted it on end upon his shoulder, overbalanced himself, and put his head through it, scattering the many thousands of types of which it was composed upon the floor. By this time the " The Medical Times" 95 compositors who had gone home were most pro- bably asleep in their beds, and the remaining four could do but little towards repairing the damage, yet the paper was bound by contract to appear in time for the early morning's post. As many men as lived near were summoned to return, and the pages were reset by very tired and sleepy workmen, but the paper did not come out in time for that morn- ing's mail. This incident is not perhaps very remarkable, but the history of the journal to which it relates is interesting, as told by a gentleman who was well acquainted with the facts. He says : "It is now [1868] about thirty years ago that a young gentle- man called upon me and expressed an earnest desire to become a qualified medical practitioner ; he had read, and ' got up the bones,' but had not the means wherewith to pay the hospital fees. He thought of starting a medical journal, and another young friend one Albert Smith offered to assist him by writing for it, and receiving such remuneration as could be afforded. Others, without money, but with pens of the ready writer, came forward, and The Medical Times made its appearance on the 28th of Septem- ber, 1839, under the editorship of its proprietor, Frederick Knight Hunt, who was soon able to pay his 'great gun,' Albert Smith, half-a-crown per column for his very amusing 'Confessions of Jasper Buddie, the Dissecting-room Porter.' The journal succeeded, and Hunt was able to pay all hospital fees, and in due course wrote the much-desired 96 Major Beniowski. M.R.C.S. after his name. He started in practice, but, disliking the drudgery of it, relinquished physic for printer's ink, became editor and proprietor of Hunt's London Journal, editor of The Pictorial Times, and died at the early age of forty-two chief editor of The Daily News."* The Medical Times changed hands several times, and ultimately John Churchill became the publisher. A PROPOSED REVOLUTION IN PRINTING. Some years ago, when the Polytechnic Institution in Regent Street was an educational exhibition, a teacher of mnemonics named Stokes held classes there for the practice of artificial memory. Some time in the 'forties, when I was a student at the London Mechanics' Institution, there was a Polish refugee, named Major Beniowski, who taught a system for the improvement of the memory very like Stokes's. The Major was a remarkable man. He was tall, had a distinguished presence, and spoke the English language grammatically and fluently, but of course with a foreign accent. He was known to have been connected with con- spiracies in his own country, and to have endea- voured to enlist the sympathies of English Chartists and other agitators in the cause of " Universal Liberty." He applied his system to the learning of languages, and conducted a very successful French class at the Institution. He was certainly * " Some Account of the Parish of St. Clement Danes," by John Diprose. Beniowski's Inventions. 97 clever and ingenious, and an enthusiast in all he undertook. He declared that he would revolu- tionise the art of printing, and began by casting logotypes a system which John Walter of The Tunes had abandoned many years previously.* These logotypes he placed in elaborate pigeon-hole cases, which he termed " authoritons," and stated that a, girl could compose matter under his proposed con- ditions equal to from five to ten thousand single types per hour. Not content with that, he invented a rotary printing machine, which, however, never advanced beyond the model stage. To complete his entire reform, he proposed that the inking rollers should be inflated with air. He at least induced several persons to supply him with funds to carry on his experiments and perfect his inventions, and I- think there exists a Parliamentary Blue Book referring to the subject. For years he lived at 8, Bow Street, Covent Garden, where he exposed for sale the works he had printed with his logo- types, but, like many others who have tried to revolutionise printing, he disappeared into obscurity without having added anything practical to the requirements of the trade. * John Walter obtained a patent for his logotype system in 1784. He then purchased "the king's late printing-house, near Apothecaries' Hall, Blackfriars," which he opened as a general printing-office in June of the same year. On January i, 1785, he started The Daily Unircrsal Register, which he termed a "logotype newspaper," and altered its title to The Times on January i. J 788. -98- BARNARD GREGORY. I remember to have been present at Covent Gar- den Theatre when the notorious Barnard Gregory was hissed off the stage. This was in 1843, when Alfred Bunn (Punch's " Poet Bunn ") was the lessee. The man Gregory was the editor of The Satirist, a sixpenny weekly paper that reeked of scandal, and invariably contained persistent libellous attacks upon individuals who, it was conjectured, would pay handsomely for their discontinuance. An especial victim of his venomous attacks was the Duke of Brunswick, whom in one article he accused of being in some way connected with the murder of Eliza Grimwood. The Duke entered several actions for libel against him, and while some of these were pending he was announced to make his first appear- ance as Hamlet at Covent Garden. I had previously seen him play the character of Othello very success- fully at a private theatre, and no doubt he might have earned an honest livelihood as an actor. On the occasion referred to, the Duke whom he had libelled occupied a side box, and as soon as Gregory made his appearance upon the stage a disturbance commenced which had evidently been prearranged, for the rioters were distributed in groups over all parts of the house, and the Duke was by gestures inciting them to action. It was a scene of wild confusion, the deafening sounds preventing the actors from being heard. The first act was played in dumb show, but when the drop-scene came down there was a lull. During the first scene of Barnard Gregory. 99 the second act the house was quiet, but upon the entrance of Hamlet, in the second, the noise was renewed with increased vigour, and it was said at the time that nothing like it had occurred since the historical "O.P." riots.* The peaceful portion of the audience then gradually withdrew, and ulti- mately, after something had been thrown upon the stage, the green curtain slowly descended to the cheering of the rioters, and the proceedings came to an end. Gregory at once brought an action against the Duke for conspiracy, in which Serjeant Shee and Serjeant Talfourd were engaged. The trial created considerable interest, but although there could be no doubt about the conspiracy, the jury brought in a kind of " serve him right " verdict, and the Duke was acquitted. I remember that some difference of opinion was expressed, especially among actors, as to the justice of the decision. If, they said, the Duke had been libelled, he had his remedy by legal process, and certainly had no right to disturb peaceable playgoers to gratify a personal grievance. While admitting that the rascal got no more than his desert, it may be conceded that there was some reason in the objection. This trial was immediately followed by the Duke's libel actions against Gregory, who was condemned to pay heavy damages and ultimately to undergo imprisonment. He however absconded, and a reward was offered * These riots occurred on the opening of Covent Garden Theatre in 1809, and were caused by the raising of the charges for admission, the audience clamouring for a return to the Old Prices. ioo A Curious Reward Bill. for his apprehension. The reward bill thus de- scribed his personal appearance and antecedents : " About five feet two inches high, sallow complexion, about fifty- five years of age ; generally without whiskers ; has natural grey hair, and scanty ; wears wigs of various colours ; has a projecting fore- head, giving a louring expression to the face ; eyes darkish colour, nose short and ill-shaped, face round ; has an habitual satirical sneer, is high-shouldered, and slightly knock-kneed ; dresses shabbily in black ; voice powerful, with a fawning style of speech ; if not disguised, is in mourning ; manner pompous and vulgar ; walk embarrassed and uncertain. Is the son of a Mrs. Gregory, who kept a greengrocer's shop in Goswell Street. Was formerly a schoolmaster and a local itinerant preacher. In the town of Brighton he kept a drug-shop ; was afterwards head clerk in Wigney's bank at Brighton ; then went into partnership there with an auctioneer and brewer as bankers, and was unfortunate in business." Add to this the occupations of editor, professional blackmailer, and actor, and his career will present a record that "will take a little beating." He was ultimately arrested at Southend, put into prison, and was, I believe, heard of no more. An equally notable and exciting event at which I was also present occurred in 1848. This was an organised demonstration against the occupation of Drury Lane stage by the company of the Theatre Historique, who had come over from Paris to play a dramatised version of Alexandre Dumas' " Morite Christo." A number of subordinate actors and their friends had determined, if possible, to prevent the performance from taking place, and, led on by an actor named Sam Cowell, who sat near me in the pit, they succeeded in making such a terrible Gustavus Vaughan Brooke. 101 noise hissing, hooting, whistling, and shouting that the actors on the stage, after making several attempts to be heard, confessed themselves beaten, and abandoned their project. Albert Smith at the time wrote a pamphlet denouncing the conduct of the rioters, which was replied to by another written in the interest of the English actors, but in the meantime Drury Lane Theatre was "to be let." G. V. BROOKE. Gustavus Vaughan Brooke, the tragedian, was in 1848 fulfilling an engagement at the Olympic Theatre, and was announced to appear on a certain date as Othello. A lad from the printing-office had been sent across the road to a tavern situated in a court near the stage-door, and he brought back the news that Brooke was there, sitting on a barrel, drunk. The lads thought that consequently there would be some fun imported into the tragedy, and went over into the theatre that night, ready for a lark. The anticipated contretemps, however, did not happen. Brooke, who had a fine voice, began his first speech somewhat huskily, but there was other- wise no indication of his condition ; in fact, he acted his part so well, and delivered his lines with such effect, that the audience repeatedly applauded him. His gestures, the play of his features, his rendering of the text, combined, as the piece pro- ceeded, to evoke increased enthusiasm, which cul- minated in "the house rising at him" in the last 102 Brooke's " Othello? scene. Just before his final speech, Othello realises that he has been deceived, and exclaims, "O fool, fool, fool ! " I cannot attempt to describe the manner in which the actor, by repeating this one word, putting his hands upon his head and tottering towards the footlights, revealed to his listeners the agony which he was supposed to be enduring, but the effect upon the audience was electrical, and some moments elapsed before the applause abated. It is said that Edmund iKean once created a similar demonstration by delivering a brief sentence, but such an occurrence must be exceedingly rare. I was afterwards told that the actors who played with him that night never saw him go upon the stage in a worse condition, or remembered him to have played so brilliantly. I have in my time seen most of the actors who have played Othello in London, but Brooke's impersonation on that occasion rests on my memory as by far the best. The old style of acting the legitimate drama may be described as consisting of a series of well-studied postures, the delivery of the principal speeches as if they were isolated recitations given as specimens of elocution, and the making of certain points, at which the applause was expected to come in. Brooke's method differed entirely. He seldom, if ever, played the same character twice in the same manner, and therefore his performances were unequal, and the actors who supported him, not knowing what he would do, found it difficult to "play up to him." He knew his lines, sank his personal individuality The Wreck of the "London" 103 in the character he represented, and let himself go whither his simulated passion, grief, or other feeling carried him. His other most successful impersona- tion was undoubtedly Sir Giles Overreach. Like Edmund Kean, with whom he was often compared, he was a victim to drink, and this infirmity pre- vented his attaining the position to which his talent would otherwise have entitled him. His end was a tragedy in which he played a noble part. Leaving his wife, Avonia Jones, who was then playing at the Surrey Theatre, he took a passage for Melbourne, accompanied by his sister, in the ill-fated ship London, which sailed from Plymouth on Saturday, January 6, 1866. On the Monday following, when in the Bay of Biscay, the vessel encountered a terrific storm, and for several days all hands laboured at the pumps to keep her afloat, Brooke taking more than his share of the work, and endeavouring to raise the spirits of his fellow-passengers. In the meantime his sister had died from fear. Their efforts, how- ever, proved unavailing, and on Thursday five days after their departure from Plymouth the passengers and crew took to the boats, leaving but the captain and Brooke on board. The final scene is thus described by W. J. Lawrence in his biography of the actor, published in Belfast in 1892 : " Just as they were pushing off, Gardiner, the assistant-steward, observed him leaning with stern composure against the half-door of the companion way. There he stood calmly surveying the scene, with his chin resting on his hands as they grasped the top of the door, which swayed slowly to and fro under the pressure. ' Will you come with us, Mr. Brooke ? ' shouted Gardiner, pity welling up IO4 The Old Olympic. in his heart for the man who had toiled so bravely. ' No ! no ! ' replied Brooke. ' Good-bye. Should you survive, give my last farewell to the people of Melbourne.' ... As they rowed slowly away, many of the passengers, anxious that some one should survive to tell the tale, waved their handkerchiefs and cheered as best they could. Straining their eyes back eagerly as the distance grew greater, the men saw that the ill-fated vessel was sinking rapidly by the stern. In fact, the stem rose so high out of the water three minutes after their departure that the keel was visible for a moment as far as the foremast. Then the cutter went down into the trough of the sea, and when she had climbed a hill of water, Olympus high, no trace of the London or of the remnants of her living freight was to be seen : nothing but an awful gulf of dark whirling water." THE END OF THE OLD OLYMPIC. I knew several persons connected with the old Olympic Theatre, especially a man named Charles Bender, who was an actor and, I think, stage- manager. It was then usual for certain theatrical officials to be allowed to take a "benefit" once a year in fact, it was generally included in the terms of their engagement. Bender was about to avail himself of this privilege, and had arranged for the production, " for this night only," of three very popular plays, " The Rent Day," " Faint Heart Never Won Fair Lady," and "Time Tries All." There was not much money expended upon adver- tising such events in those days, the beneficial re depending for success chiefly upon the efforts of his friends to dispose of tickets. I had assisted him in this way, and in the middle of the day appointed (March 29, 1849) I went into the theatre to give him the result of my endeavours, and remained for some The Destruction of the Olympic. 105 time behind the scenes during the rehearsal of one of the plays. A heavy green velvet curtain, which parted in the centre, was drawn up at the sides of the proscenium. About five o'clock, when we were enjoying our usual cup of tea in the printing-office, a lad rushed in and shouted "The Olympic's a-fire !" We all scampered out into Drury Lane and joined the gathering crowd of people, which soon num- bered some thousands, and witnessed the speedy and total destruction of the theatre. The building being constructed chiefly of wood, which the heat of the gas had rendered highly combustible, the whole was soon a huge mass of flame, threatening the surrounding property with a similar fate. There were no less than twenty engines playing upon the fire before it was got under, and the operations of the firemen were directed by James Braidwood, the then superintendent of the London Fire Brigade, who lost his life in 1861 at the great fire in Tooley Street. The fire was caused by one side of the velvet curtain becoming detached and falling against the prompter's gaslight. Poor Bender, who was at the time in a private room attending to financial matters, had a very narrow escape of his life, as he afterwards told me. It seems strange in these days to describe a London theatre as being constructed of wood, and perhaps the Olympic was unique in that respect. Its history, however, accounts for this. . It was built in the reign of George III. by old Philip Astley, who had rendered some service to the State during the war with France, and was personally A Wooden Theatre. known to the king. A circus in Lambeth which he owned was destroyed by fire, and he thereupon applied to the king to give him an old French man- of-war, named La Ville de Paris, with which to con- struct another. This he succeeded in obtaining, and THE RUIXS OF THE OLYMPIC, FROM A CONTEMPORARY ENGRAVING. out of the timbers of the disused ship he built the' Olympic The masts of the old French vessel formed part of the flies, and these well-seasoned poles resisted the fire sufficiently to remain. standing when all else had been consumed, as shown in the accompanying contemporary sketch. The tall build- ing on the right is the tavern before referred to, where Brooke was discovered sitting on a barrel. An Actor in Pawn. 107 I also witnessed the destruction by fire of the Surrey Theatre, and wrote a descriptive report for The Son tli London Press, which was just started under the editorship of Charles Gibbon, the novelist, whom I knew intimately. HOW A STORY MAY BE SPOILED. While on matters theatrical, I will relate an anecdote at second-hand. The circumstance was brought to my mind by reading, a year or two ago, in one of the weekly journals, the following para- graph :- " Ax ACTOR IN PAWN. A one-time well-known actor was always head over heels in debt, despite an enormous salary, and was always busy devising schemes by which he could raise money. One evening, an hour before the curtain was to rise upon a new play, a pawnbroker entered the private office of the manager of the theatre. ' Here is a pawnticket for you, sir.' ' For me ? ' exclaimed the astonished manager. ' Yes, sir. It is for 150, and I hold your leading man for security. He cannot leave my place until I have been paid.' And the pawnbroker was telling the truth. The manager had to pay this amount before he could get his star. Subsequently the actor and the pawnbroker divided the spoils." Now, I had never before seen this in print, and am quite ignorant as to its source. More than fifty years ago, however, I heard my father tell a similar story, which is probably the true version. My parents lived in a house in Russell Street, exactly opposite the stage-door of Drury Lane Theatre, where, in fact, I first saw the light. Next door, on the east side, was the shop of a pawnbroker, named Townsend. On the west side, some half-dozen houses beyond, io8 Edmund Kean. was (and is) " The Harp " tavern, a favourite haunt of Edmund Kean. About 1829 Kean was playing Hciirv r. at Drury Lane Theatre. One night the actor, in entering the stage-door, struck his foot against something and stumbled. The manager, who happened to be in the doorkeeper's box, noticed this, and gave strict orders that no one was to be allowed to go out for drink, no doubt con- cluding that Kean, whose habits were notorious, had already imbibed more than he could safely carry. After a short time a boy came downstairs and was about to make his exit, when he was arrested by the doorkeeper. "Where are you going ? " he inquired. " I'm going out for Mr. Kean," replied the boy, no doubt thinking that the magic name of the eminent actor would be a sufficient passport. " You must not go out for Mr. Kean, nor for anybody else those are my orders." " But Mr. Kean wants his brandy, as usual," persisted the lad. " You must go back, my boy," replied the janitor. And back he went and told his story. " What ! " exclaimed Kean, "did you tell him it was for me, me, ME ?" tapping his breast and raising his voice. On receiving a reply, the enraged actor, who was already partially dressed for his part, took down from a peg the ample cloak he usually wore, threw it over his stage costume, and bolted out through the door, to the astonishment of the man in the box. Crossing the road, he entered Townsend's shop and inquired for the proprietor, whom he well knew as a frequenter of the actors' room at "The Harp." "Townsend," Kearis Stratagem. 109 said he, " lend me a guinea on my clothes." " With pleasure, Mr. Kean, if you will take them off." Being informed of the circumstances, and the intended trick, it was arranged that Kean should sit in the parlour, with the usual pawnbroker's ticket pinned to his breast, that the duplicate should be sent across to the manager with his compliments, and that a bottle of brandy should be forthwith procured from " The Harp." The bottle had scarcely been opened when the manager rushed in and exclaimed, " Good heavens ! Mr. Kean, what is the meaning of this ? The overture has commenced and we shall have to ring up in five minutes." Kean replied that it was no fault of his if the stage were kept waiting. It was absolutely necessary that he should have the brandy before going on, and if he, the manager, would drink with him, he would return at once, which he did, and thus the incident ended. The delay, however, necessitated a repetition of the overture. I may add that my father knew Edmund Kean personally, owing to his occasionally strolling into the book- seller's shop in the Strand. He died in May, 1833, at the early age of forty-six, a victim of intemperate habits. THE -WORKING MAN'S GARDENER. In the 'fifties I was introduced to a man who was chiefly instrumental in making the Botanical Gardens at Kew available for the general public, and who successfully laboured for many years to encourage a 1 1 o The Working Mans Gardener. taste for horticulture among the working classes of large towns George Glenny. I used occasionally to visit him at Dungannon House, Fulham, to which a large garden was attached, and very much enjoyed his gossip, for he had had considerable journalistic experience. On one occasion I induced him to lend me certain papers and other materials, from which I wrote a sketch of his chequered career. This arose from his telling me that he had always been a working man, and that he had, in fact, been appren- ticed to a mechanical trade before taking to gar- dening and journalism. His bent was discovered in this wise : he was taken by his father to see the tulips at a nursery in Walworth, a neighbourhood then considered out of town, where they were grown with remarkable success. At this time tulip- growing was a mania. He became so enamoured of the beauty of the flowers that he determined to try his hand at growing them himself. Although indulged by his parents and encouraged by friends, tulips were rather above his means, for in those days they commanded very high prices. I remember, when very young, to have visited an uncle of mine, who was an amateur tulip-grower, and he pointed out a by no means large bed that had cost him over a hundred pounds ; I also remember that he kept composition matches, like long pencils, slowly burning in the garden, for the purpose of lighting the cigars of visitors who came to admire his tulips. Young Glenny, notwithstanding his very limited means, was determined to obtain possession of the George Glenny. 1 1 1 coveted bulbs, and entered into an arrangement with a nurseryman living in the City Road to pur- chase a whole bed of tulips for ^20, unknown to his parents, the payment for which was to be made in instalments of 53. per week out of his pocket- money. After having made some half-dozen pay- ments, the youthful customer was astonished one day to find his purchase brought home without notice, and a demand made for the balance. This of course caused a dispute, which began in an undertone, on account of the secrecy of the trans- action, but ended in an open quarrel, the noise of which soon brought his father to the door, and the facts had to be explained. A friend was called in to appraise the value of the tulips, when it was dis- covered that they were not worth a quarter of the price charged, so the matter ended by the dealer having to take back his bulbs and returning the money. His father then purchased for him a more valuable collection, and from that time he became an enthusiastic florist. In the course of a few years he won no less than three hundred prizes at flower shows, and on a subsequent occasion' he told me that he invited fifty-seven guests to partake of his hospitality, and placed before each a silver prize cup which had been awarded to him for the exhibition of his flowers. Being thus successful as a gardener, he was invited to contribute articles upon horticultural subjects to papers and magazines, and this brought him into communication with the journalists of the day. He 1 1 2 George Glenny. did not, however, confine his pen to the subjects in which he was a technical expert, for he became editor of The British Luminary, and subsequently of The Royal Lady's Magazine, which numbered amongst its contributors the Ettrick Shepherd, Miss Pardoe, Miss Porter, Miss Mitford, and the GEORGE GLEXXY. Misses Strickland. About the year 1837 he was proprietor of The Gardeners' Gazette, and in a series of articles he drew public attention to the deplorable condition and the mismanagement of Kew Gardens, which caused him to be summoned before a Trea- sury committee. A commission was thereupon appointed, including Dr. Lindley and, at the sugges- Kew Gardens. 1 1 3 tion of Glenny, Mr. (afterwards Sir Joseph) Paxton, who investigated the matter and confirmed the statements made in the Gazette. Dr. Lindley de- scribed the then existing state of things as follows : " You rang a bell at the side of a wooden gate, which of itself was perfectly emblematic of the secrecy, the unnatural privacy, of the working prin- ciple within. You were let in as if by stealth, as if the gatekeeper were ashamed to see you come, or as if you yourself were ashamed to be seen there ; and when you were there you were dodged by an official, as if you were likely to carry off the St. Helena willow-tree in your button-hole, or one of the smaller hothouses in your waistcoat pocket. You entered unwelcome, you rambled about sus- pected, and you were let out with manifest gladness at your departure." A reform in the management at once commenced, and we who can now r enjoy a visit to the beautiful gardens at Kew are reaping the benefit of a change that was initiated by the pen of George Glenny. Had he "stuck to his last," Glenny might have acquired a fortune, but unfortunately he was seized with the quixotic idea of converting certain advanced Radical and infidel papers into what he deemed might be made, under his editorship, organs of "respectable" and orthodox opinion. With this end in view he purchased of Henry Hetherington the copyrights of The London Dispatch, The London Mercury, and other papers, changed their political opinions and anti-clerical tendencies, reduced their 8 114 The Duke of York's Column. already limited circulation, and ultimately lost above -2,000. In this speculative adventure he told me that he "had been promised financial support by several noblemen, but that they failed to assist him as he expected, and he therefore had to pay the cost of his injudicious experiment. Besides his literary work, Glenny associated him- self with many public movements. On the death of the Duke of York, whom he knew as a patron, he called a meeting of noblemen and gentlemen which was held at his house, under the presidency of Earl Cathcart, and proposed 'the erection of a monument to his memory, which was ultimately carried out under the presidency of the Duke of Wellington. "Thou pillar, longitudinally great, And also perpendicularly straight ; Thou art, I fear, but flattery's handiwork, Being a tribute unto Royal York." To a similar effort Greenwich Hospital owes the monument to Charles Dibdin. The chief work, however, by which George Glenny ought to be remembered is his attack upon the mismanagement of Kew Gardens, which resulted in its reform ; his establishing a recognised standard by which to judge of the properties of cultivated flowers ; and his popular articles on gardening which appeared for many years in Lloyd's Ncivspaper, CasseU's Familv Paper, and other publications. When I fast saw him he gave me his photograph taken on his yand birthday, of which the accompanying portrait is an engraved copy. us AN EXAMPLE OF PERSEVERANCE. About Christmas-time the post generally brings to me a seasonable and genial greeting from the Anti- podes, signed by an old friend, named John Plum- mer, whose early career was certainly remarkable, and may be quoted as a striking instance of what may be accomplished by indomitable perseverance, even under the most unfavourable conditions. His parents were staymakers, in a very humble station, and occupied but two rooms in a house in Rosemary Lane, one of the poorest East-end localities of London. He received but little educa- tion, and while still a child was attacked with fever, which resulted in his becoming lame and deaf. His infirmities not only prevented his taking part in the usual amusements of childhood, but rendered him an object of ridicule among his schoolfellows. This preyed upon his mind, and drove him to seek amuse- ment and consolation in reading, when he was not employed in assisting his parents in their work. Though still very young he applied himself to study, and devoted every spare moment to the acquirement of some kind of knowledge. When he became sufficiently strong he used to carry his parents' work to the warehouse, and on returning would linger at the bookstalls, and sometimes be tempted to spend a few coppers, which could ill be spared, in the purchase of an old book or current publication, although at that time unable to read with facility. His family and friends were by no means disposed to encourage him in thus spending his pocket- ii6 An Example of Perseverance. money and "wasting his time." The benefit of education was then, in the 'forties, not realised by the labouring classes, a large proportion of whom JOHX PLUMMER. could do little more than read very imperfectly and sign their name. Having, in the course of his reading, seen some article which related how that A Shoemaker^ Strike. 117 certain painters of humble means had raised them- selves from poverty and obscurity to wealth and fame, young Plummer resolved to devote himself to art, and attended a School of Design in Spitalfields, where he made great progress and obtained several prizes. His studies in this direction were, however, brought to an abrupt termination. His father's employer became bankrupt and the family were compelled to remove to Kettering, where they had been promised work in a stay-factory. Here he had an offer of gratuitous tuition at the local School of Design ; but he had grown older, and was required to earn his living, and to do this he had to work long hours, which rendered him unfit for study. John Plummer had now reached the age of twenty-two, and still worked at his trade, but he occupied such leisure as his circumstances afforded in writing letters and poems to the local papers, some of which, to his great gratification, found their way into print. In 1858 there occurred a strike among the shoemakers of Northampton. Certain employers had introduced machinery which the workmen considered was prejudicial to their inte- rests. A kind of trades union was thereupon formed, and rules were formulated by w r hich the conditions of work were to be governed. It happened at the time that Plummer had a younger brother, Japhet, aged nineteen, who desired to abandon staymaking and take to shoemaking, an occupation for which he had a liking. He therefore applied to a master shoe- maker, who undertook for a consideration to teach 1 1 8 John Plummer. him the trade. In the meantime, however, the trades union had passed a bye-law by which no one was allowed to be taught the trade after the age of seventeen. The effect of this was that those who were willing to teach him were threatened with a strike if they persisted, and although he succeeded in acquiring sufficient knowledge and practice to enable him to obtain employment, he was so per- secuted that he was eventually driven to enlist as a soldier. This tyranny so irritated his brother John that he wrote and published a pamphlet, " Freedom of Labour," in which he vindicated his brother's right to employment, but the author was burnt in effigy and threatened with personal violence. This pamphlet, however, which was dedicated to Lord Brougham, brought John Plummer into notice. He had been writing for papers and magazines for some time, although employed from half-past six in the morning till seven at night, and received but little remuneration. At this time (1858) Lord Brougham delivered an address in Liverpool on Popular Literature, in which he said : "There lies before me a short treatise by a working man, written with a view of removing the prevalent but dangerous delusions on the subject of capital and w r ages, by explaining the true principles of economic science on this head. No student of that philosophy at the English nay, at any of the Scotch universities, where it is more cultivated could have produced a better-reasoned tract, or one showing more entire acquaintance with its principles." Factory Hand turned Editor. 119 John Plummer happened next day to be in a newsvendor's shop, and accidentally took up The Tina's, when the above passage caught his atten- tion. "I was so astonished," he said, "that I could hardly believe my senses. Had I, the deaf, lame, neglected boy, the humble factory toiler, won the approbation of one of our greatest men ? " Such, however, was the case, and shortly afterwards he succeeded in obtaining literary work that enabled him to leave the factory and devote himself to more congenial employment. On one occasion he won a prize offered for the best essay on Sanitary Reform ; on another he contributed a paper " On Strikes," which was read before the Social Science Association, and declared to be the best that had dealt with the subject. He soon made up his mind to try his fortune again in the Metropolis, but under very different conditions to those under which he had left it. He there- fore came to London, and when . I became acquainted with him he was editor of Cassell's Family Paper. He had previously written a volume of poems entitled " Songs of Labour," and this induced me to ask him to write an "Ode to Labour," which was set to music by Dr. Spark, and sung upon an occasion hereafter referred to. He ultimately went to Sydney to edit some newspaper, and, to judge from a view of his house which he sent me, is no doubt now occupying a good position in the colony. AN OLD BOHEMIAN. Not long since there died, at a ripe old age, a gentleman who, had he 'felt disposed to write his recollections of Bohemian life in London, could have carried them back to a very early date. This was Mr. Jonas Levy, J.P., the vice-chairman of the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway. '/ JONAS LEVY. I had known him for more than five-and-twenty years, and had many a time listened to the stories he told of the Reunion, the Savage, the Urban, the Whitefriars, and other clubs to which he belonged, where his presence was ever welcome. He had ample means, and, being a barrister, An Old Bohemian. 121 occupied chambers in Gray's Inn (where he had an extensive and valuable library), besides a house in Tavistock Square and a little castle at Kings- gate in the Isle .of Thanet. His father was a well-known toll-gate contractor, who amassed a fortune by controlling the revenues of turnpike- roads, farming market tolls, coal dues, &c. When the railways drove the coaches from the roads, and the turnpikes became unprofitable, he invested his capital wisely in railway stock, which he left to his son, who told me that he had never parted with a single share that had been thus bequeathed to him. This fact, combined with his legal know- ledge and business habits, led Lord Westbury to propose his joining the directorate of the London and Brighton Railway, of which he became deputy- chairman in 1869, an office he retained until his decease. He also took a great interest in the management of the Crystal Palace, of which like- wise he was a director. There was scarcely an individual of any standing who trod the London stage a quarter of a century ago, or who was engaged in journalism at that period, who did not know Jonas Levy. His social position and independent means in no way affected his con- duct towards those whom he met as club chums, for he was thoroughly Bohemian when away from his official duties, and never felt more at home than when he was smoking his short 122 Reporting a Butchers' Dinner. clay pipe and drinking his weak brandy and water, surrounded by agreeable companions.* It may be added that the fact of his being a bachelor en- abled him to indulge his gregarious inclinations without reproach. On one of these occasions he told a story of a reporter on The Morning Advertiser, whom he knew, one of whose duties was to attend City banquets, charity dinners, and similar functions. He was an old toper, but, being well seasoned, he generally managed to get through his work satisfactorily. On one occasion he was commissioned to report the proceedings of the annual dinner of a Butchers' Benevolent Institution, at which the menu was always enticing and the wines were abundant. He enjoyed his dinner, declaring that it was equal to a Company's banquet, and washed it down with appropriate vintages, and it was said that he secreted a bottle of champagne under the table for his private use. By the time the speeches had some- what advanced, he had conceived the idea that the orators required encouraging, and made a point of shouting " Hear, hear " whenever a benevolent butcher hesitated or came to a dead stop. The chairman at first solicited the favour of silence for the speaker in general terms, and then pointedly directed his admonitions to the reporter, who had uttered the words " Get on ! " " Rubbish ! " " Spit * The little sketch on page 121, which is an excellent likeness, was taken by Mr. Alfred Bryan at the annual dinner of the Royal General Theatrical Fund (1889) and appeared at the time in Moonshine. A Bit of Shakespeare. 123 it out ! " &c., and was evidently not in his right mind. After a while he interrupted a speaker by exclaiming, " Give us a bit of Shakespeare ! " which caused one of the stewards to suggest that, as he was o///v a reporter, he should be turned out. The meeting by their applause evidently approved of this course, and it would have been immediately carried into effect had he not risen, put his hand in his vest, assuming a theatrical attitude, and said, in a deep voice, " Only a reporter ! " Oh pardon me . . . That I am meek and gentle with these butchers ! " * and then, with a wave of the hand, made an igno- minious exit. Stories of this kind, passing from one to another, and being retold, become considerably altered, and sometimes improved, but not always as in the case of the Kean incident before related. I happened to be spending a few days with Jonas Levy at Kingsgate, and mentioned that in "The Life and Reminiscences of E. L. Blanchard," then recently published, there was a version of a story differing from the one I had heard him tell more than once. " I don't care about that," said the old man ; " mine is the correct one, for I was in the parlour the same night, and heard all about it." And he repeated it, as nearly as I can remember, as follows : In the early days of The Daily Telegraph several convivial companions used to meet at the "Bedford Head," a public-house in Maiden Lane, * " Julius C;csar," iii. i. 124 Another Story. Covent Garden. Here they told their troubles, smoked their pipes, and drank their modest half- and-half out of pewter pots. One day E. L. Blanchard told them that he had forwarded an article to the Telegraph which he thought would just suit, and promised, if it were accepted, that he would stand " drinks round." The pot-boy was sent for a copy of the paper, but it was found not to contain the article. "Just my luck," said Blanchard. " I had hoped that it might lead to something. I'll go and get it back." "Don't do that," remarked William Romer ; " give them another day" which suggestion was adopted. Next day the paper was again procured, and, to the delight of Blanchard, the article not only appeared, but was put into leader type. They then discussed what might be considered a fair remuneration for the author, and decided amongst themselves that it should bring a couple of guineas. Blanchard thereupon went to the office in the Strand, near Temple Bar (now the site of the new Law Courts), but was told to come the next day. They assembled as usual on the following afternoon, and it was chaffingly suggested that, as Blanchard had pro- mised drinks round, Romer should accompany him, so that the funds should not be misapplied ; and away they went accordingly. On Blanchard making his application to be paid, a paper was handed to him which, on being opened, was found to contain but a half-sovereign. This he declined to accept. " What ! " said he, " a leader like that for ten bob ! A Lost Half -Sovereign. 125 It's a downright insult. Let me see the editor." " Can't see him, sir, except by appointment," replied the clerk. Much against Romer's inclination, they left the office, and while ascending a few steps that led to a court at the back of the building, he asked Blanchard if he would mind waiting a few minutes. He then went speedily back to the office, said that his friend had decided to accept the money, and brought it back. Blanchard was ill-pleased at this, but Romer had calculated how many pots of half- and-half ten shillings represented, and feared there was little chance of obtaining any more. In the endeavour to force Blanchard to accept the money, the half-sovereign fell upon the ground, and rolled down the area-grating of one of the houses in the court. They peered down through the iron bars, but failed to discover it, the coin having disappeared among the rubbish that lay below. They next knocked at the door and asked to be permitted to descend and look for it, but they were met with uncomplimentary remarks and gibes from the loose women who occupied the house, and presently the inhabitants came out of the adjacent houses and joined in the chaff, while several pretended to search for the missing coin. It was ultimately declared to be a "plant," and the two friends were glad enough to escape without achieving their object. When they returned to the tavern they were at first received with cheers, but, after relating their adventures, the cheerful greeting was voted premature, and they experienced some diffi- 126 Jonas Levy's Generosity. culty in making their companions believe I their story. " Now, that's true," concluded Jonas Levy, "for I was there the same evening, and, what is more, stood the drinks round." It is almost impossible for any one who knew Jonas Levy intimately, to speak of him without referring to his readiness to assist any charitable object. Sala, in a kindly notice of his death, called him "the most generous and the most charitable of mankind, but one who never let his left hand know what his right hand did in the way of writing cheques for the necessitous." In confirmation of this I may refer to a conversation I had with the late Henry Lee, the naturalist. Levy at the time was in a weakly condition, and I made the remark that many would miss him when he was called away. " Yes," said Lee, " I always knew he was generous, but I did not know till the other day the extent of his generosity. I met him in the Strand, and he told me he thought he could not last much longer, and that he would like me to go with him to his chambers in Verulam Buildings. When we got there he lit his pipe, and, opening a drawer, said that it contained a lot of papers, some of which he would not like to leave behind him, and he therefore intended to look through them and destroy those which I could help him to select. These proved to be promis- sory notes, I.O.U.'s, and receipts for loans, many of them bearing names not unfamiliar to the Jiabitiies of Clubland. Without an unkind remark. " Bohemianism" \ 27 he tore up and threw into the fire documents that represented an amount which must have exceeded a thousand pounds. He said he ithought it as well to do it in the presence of a witness upon \vhose secrecy he could rely, and of course I now mention this in confidence." I spent some days with him at Kingsgate a few weeks before his death, and the ladies who were attending upon him told me that he was constantly forwarding cheques to people who were not tradesmen, from whom he required no acknowledgment. When I parted from him he put a packet into my hand, saying, " I may never see you again ; take this ; it used to be my favourite." The packet contained a silver-mounted meerschaum pipe, with a slip of paper, on which was written, under my name, " From his old friend Jonas Levy." I have used the word " Bohemianism " in con- nection with several of the men herein referred to. Forty or fifty years ago the term had a definite meaning. Its votaries were clever, irregular, impe- cunious, and often intemperate, but they were generous and fraternal. They met in public-houses, because they could not afford better accommoda- tion, and their lack of means evoked a feeling of mutual sympathy that created a bond of good- fellowship. They not only condoled with each other over their failures, but forgave each other their little successes. There was no interviewing no process-block portraiture no log-rolling. The Autographs. AUTOGRAPHS OF A FEW PERSONS HEREIN REFERRED TO, front letters, etc., in possession of the writer. Dog Stories. 129 " Literary Gossip " of the day mentioned only the very few who had achieved fame. In fact, they had to fight their way unaided, and many of them died before their talents were recognised. All this is now, in some respects happily, changed. Lights, however dim, are no longer hid under a bushel. There is a fair market for literary and journalistic work, and therefore the old Bohemianism has passed away, only leaving its fraternal spirit as an inheritance to a few old clubs that still exist in the neighbourhood of the " highway of letters." DOG STORIES. But not of the usual kind. For many years I have been accustomed to take half an hour's walk- ing exercise before breakfast, accompanied by a dog in fact the daily excursion is taken for the dog's especial benefit. He calls for me regularly at the appointed time, takes me out, and brings me back, and should I feel indisposed to fulfil what he evi- dently deems my duty towards him, he expostulates in unmistakable canine language. Some few years since I used to pass the corner of a road at which stood an old woman who sold matches. She was always neatly, though poorly, clad, and her acknow- ledgment of the penny I occasionally gave her " I thank you very much," or " Sir, you are very kind" indicated rather the tone of a lady in very reduced circumstances than that of an ordinary street hawker. One morning the dog greeted her 9 1 30 A DaugJitcr of Theodore Hook. more effusively than usual, and scattered her matches into the muddy road. She smiled and apologised for the offender, whilst I gathered up her stock-in- trade, which I could not do otherwise than purchase as a solatium. Every day after that occurrence the dog used to stop and receive a smile and a pat on the head from the old lady. Being a collie, he was a good judge of character, and evidently shared my conviction that she was not an ordinary mendicant. One morning, however, she was miss- ing from her accustomed 'station. The next day she was also absent, and I inquired after her of a crossing-sweeper who stood nearly opposite. This man was as much a character as the old woman herself. He stood near a school, and whenever the boys were puzzled about a sum in algebra or a Latin termination, he would help them over their difficulty ; but drink had condemned him to sweep a crossing, and although several efforts had been made to improve his position, he was found to be irreclaimable. " She is dead, poor body," was his reply to my inquiry. Upon subsequently making further investigation, I discovered that, owing to the suddenness of her decease, a coroner's inquest had been held, at which evidence was given by a witness who had known her for thirty-eight years that she was the daughter of Theodore Hook. She had for many years maintained herself by teaching in private schools about the neighbourhood of Brixton, but age and infirmity had deprived her of the means of support, and she was at last driven An Irish Rag-picker. 131 to expose her poverty at the street corner. She was the eldest of the five children whose mother was betrayed and deserted by the clever, unscrupulous, dissipated man who started the John Bull newspaper in the Tory interest to vilify Queen Caroline. On other occasions, while perambulating a dif- ferent neighbourhood with my dog, I had frequently noticed an aged woman, who, like the rag-pickers of Paris, carried a pointed stick, with which she con- veyed any selected refuse from the gutters into a bag she held in her hand. Although her occupa- tion was necessarily uncleanly and degrading, she was always in herself clean and tidy. A black straw bonnet confined her neatly-brushed grey hair ; her body was wrapped in a bright-coloured hand- kerchief ; and she wore a short dark skirt and a pair of good boots. I had often watched her from a distance and wondered how she could manage to pick up a decent living in such a way, for she never begged nor even looked up at a passer-by. On one occasion I put a penny into her hand, at which she seemed surprised, but thanked me in a most pronounced Irish brogue. I again saw her shortly afterwards in the middle of the road engaged in her usual pursuit. Having nothing less, I placed a shilling on a lamp-post, beckoned her to the spot, and walked on. Turning round to assure myself that she had found it, I saw her running after me. " God bless you, sir," she said ; " but sure you've made a mistake. I can't take this it's too much." 132 "Do You Want a Dog?" She, however, accepted it, though somewhat reluc- tantly, and when I again turned to look after her she was kneeling in a devout attitude before the lamp-post, probably thanking some saint for having induced me to purchase so much pleasure for so little money. It was perhaps just as well she did not know I gave her the smallest coin I had. I could not help feeling an interest in the poor old woman, who doubtless had a blameless life-story to tell that might be worth hearing, and I intended to interview her on a subsequent occasion. Had I done so there would probably have been more point in this anecdote, but I saw her never again. " Do you want a dog ? " This inquiry was addressed to me some years ago by a friend who will doubtless read these lines. " What kind of a dog ? " I replied, availing myself of the privilege of a man with Scottish blood in his veins, who may be expected to reply to one question by asking another. "A pure-bred fox terrier that was once in the possession of Mrs. B , a lady who, you will remember, underwent a criminal trial that created some sensation." Although I had always admired the fox terrier, I had never owned one, and I thankfully accepted the gift. On taking him home I was pleased to find that instead of snapping at my collie, which the fox terrier generally does, he assumed a very friendly attitude towards him, and they went frisking along together when I took them out for their usual exercise. I had possessed A Knowing Fojc Terrier. 133 him but a few days when I was informed that he spent his leisure time in extracting the pebbles from the lawn, in which I took some pride, and this tended to increase my regard for him. After a few weeks, however, having exhausted the supply of surface pebbles, he proceeded to excavate for others that may have been beneath, and scratched up the grass in all directions. Expostulation, accentuated physically, proved of no avail to break him of his objectionable habit, and I consulted my friend the donor, who assured me that that was his only vice, which he had forgotten to mention. I therefore determined to part with him as soon as a favourable opportunity occurred. One day I took him for an outing down Camberwell way, and saw him far ahead frisking around the skirts of an old lady who was evidently taking notice of him, but before I reached the spot she had entered her house. Mounting some steps I could see into her garden, and, there being no lawn, I said some farewell words to the little fellow, and carefully dropped him over the wall, thinking that I had secured for him a good home and a kind mistress. When I returned home a distance of about a mile and a half I found the dog sitting on the steps. He wagged his tail, looked at me with his head cocked on one side, as if to say that he was not to be got rid of by so mean a trick, and made at once for the field of his previous exploits, evi- dently intending to take his revenge. " I really do not know what to do with that little dog you 134 Workmen's Exhibitions. gave me," I said to my friend. He smiled blandly and replied, " I think you had better do as I did give him to a friend." WORKMEN'S EXHIBITIONS. Some time prior to the year 1864 I had taken an active interest in Ragged Schools, and occasionally visited the Lamb and Flag School, Clerkenwell, to which institution a friend of mine was treasurer. I thus became acquainted with the secretary, who one day invited me to accompany him to the Lambeth Baths, where a small exhibition of amateur produc- tions, contributed by the poor of the locality, was being held. He thought that possibly something of the kind could be done in connection with his school, and thus increase the interest of the parents in the institution. We accordingly went and in- spected a very curious collection. The contents of the exhibition consisted of articles contributed by 173 persons of all ages, most of the objects being the result of the occupation of their leisure hours. The exhibitors being unskilled and mostly unedu- cated, the merit of the exhibits was confined to the amount of ingenuity or perseverance displayed in their production, but the undertaking answered the purpose of its originator, the Rev. G. M. Murphy, which was purely philanthropic. On comparing notes with my friend, I found that we viewed the matter from different standpoints. He thought it was an excellent plan to encourage North London ExJiibition. 135 the poor to spend their leisure time in doing any- thing that would tend to amuse them, no matter how useless, inartistic, or trivial the product might be. I argued that, although it might be impolitic to dis- courage such efforts, it would be more useful and more profitable to induce workmen to display speci- mens of skill in their own craft. The matter was talked over by a few mutual friends, the result being that it was agreed to combine both ideas. I was thereupon invited to formulate a complete scheme, which I did, and thus originated the first of a long series of workmen's exhibitions which were held throughout the country. Probably no undertaking, commenced under such humble conditions, ever achieved a success so remarkable. The exhibition, originally intended to be held in a schoolroom, ultimately occupied the largest available building in London, the Agricultural Hall, Islington, and was open for three w r eeks, during which time it was visited by nearly 200,000 persons. Lord John Russell presided at the opening ceremony, Mr. Gladstone closed the exhibition, and Lord Shaftesbury dis- tributed the awards. The Times in a leading article thus referred to it : "The North London Industrial Exhibition originated in a meeting of some half- dozen persons, all belonging to the working classes, and from first to last it has been practically independent of external aid. Its formation and management are useful exercises of the principle of association, and it is not easy to overrate its influence upon the career of a workman brought 136 Workmen's Exhibitions. within its sphere." All the daily papers published complimentary notices, and even the critical Athe- nceum honoured it with an appreciative article. The publicity given to the exhibition by the press caused me to receive scores of letters from all parts of the kingdom, asking for information, the replies to which often involved an amount of gratuitous " nightwork " quite incompatible with the present idea of the rights of labour. The undertaking was very economically managed, the services of all the officers being given without remuneration, and the financial result was therefore satisfactory, and a surplus was handed over to the Society of Arts to be devoted to some object in harmony with the aims of the exhibition. Within two years of the closing of this exhibition similar undertakings had been carried out in the Guildhall (London), West London (Floral Hall, Covent Garden), East London (Beaumont Institute), Wandsworth, Whitechapel, Greenwich, Wakefield, Birmingham, Nottingham, Bristol, Preston, Hulme, Liverpool, Manchester, Reading, Plymouth, Glasgow, and other places, all more or less following olir plans. The first exhibition had been so successful, and therefore profitable to the Agricultural Hall Com- pany, whose building had never previously been used for a similar purpose, that the directors offered to place the Hall at the disposal of the former executive for a second and more comprehensive undertaking. A conference was accordingly held 138 The Second Exhibition. in the board-room of the Agricultural Hall shortly afterwards, when by request I laid the chief features of the proposed new undertaking before the meeting, which resulted in the unanimous adoption of the following resolution : " That this meeting has heard with satisfaction the proposal to hold a Metropolitan and Provincial Working Classes' Industrial Exhibi- tion at the Agricultural Hall in the autumn of 1866, having for its objects the practical benefit of skilled workmen, the encouragement of amateurs, and the rational recreation of the working classes, and cordially agrees with the Agricultural Hall Company in placing its management in the hands of the Secretary, Treasurer, and Secretary of the Space Committee of the late North London Exhibition, assisted by any others w r hom they may invite to co-operate with them." At that meeting ^500 was voluntarily subscribed towards a guarantee fund, which was afterwards increased to .1,500, among the subscribers being the Duke of Rutland, the Bishop of Chichester, the Earl of Shaftesbury, Lord Brougham, Lord Denman, Professor Fawcett, Mr. Samuel Morley, and many other noblemen and gentlemen. The three men who thus undertook the task of managing the proposed exhibition were already fully employed. One was an employee of the London and North Western Railway, another was in business as the proprietor of a small saw-mill in Clerkenwell, and the third party, a printer, added the duties involved in the appointment to those of assistant manager of a large London firm. A Workmen's Festival. 139 The exhibition, which contained objects brought together from all parts of the country, was opened at the Agricultural Hall on the 3rd of September, 1866. An " Ode to Labour," written by John Plummer (who had been a factory operative at Kettering), and set to music by Dr. Spark, was sung at the opening ceremony by a choir of a thousand voices. Arrangements had been made to supple- ment the attractions of the exhibition by auxiliary features, care having been taken that these should be in harmony with the desire to make it a genuine " Workmen's Festival," into which should not enter any political or trades union element. Accordingly, the Tonic-Sol-Fa Association organised six concerts, at each of which from five hundred to a thousand choristers took part ; the Band of Hope Union furnished eight concerts of a thousand voices ; there were also oratorio performances, miscellaneous con- certs, and organ recitals. The National Temperance League held five meetings, the United Kingdom Alliance two meetings, and there were special gatherings of the Foresters, Working Men's Clubs, Sunday Schools, Ragged Schools, &c., besides numerous lectures upon subjects of interest to workmen. The exhibition was open for ten weeks, during which time upwards of 530,000 persons paid for admission, the fee in the evening being two- pence. The financial results of the undertaking enabled the council to provide prize medals of silver and bronze, and illuminated certificates of merit, which were awarded by the officials of the Society 140 Workmen's Exhibitions. of Arts, and presented to most of the exhibitors personally at Exeter Hall by the Right Hon. G. J. Goschen, and also to present to every exhibitor a large framed chromo view of the interior of the exhibition, as a souvenir. My share in the management of these exhibitions was certainly the most arduous and most responsible undertaking that ever fell to my lot outside of my ordinary occupation, and, as an old soldier is ex- pected to display his medals on special occasions, I may perhaps be excused the vanity of recording that the exhibitors gave me a silver snuff-box, the Agricultural Hall Company a costly clock and candelabra, the council a vote of thanks elaborately illuminated on vellum, and the adjudicators awarded me a silver medal. Similar presentations were made to my two coadjutors, but they paid dearly for them, Concluding Remarks. 141 for the labours and anxiety incidental to the under- taking, which extended over eighteen months, were said to have shortened their lives. L'ENVOI. In conclusion, permit me to remind the reader that this booklet does not profess to be an attempt at autobiography. Were my powers of description equal to the tenacity of my memory, I might be tempted to refer to very many " things I have seen " that were remarkable. For instance : From a window at 352, Strand, I saw the Royal procession on its way to the City, on the 9th of November, 1837, when Her Majesty went in State to dine with the Lord Mayor on her accession. About the same time I saw Scott, " the American diver," accidentally hang himself on a scaffold which had been erected for his use on the east side of Waterloo Bridge, and shall never forget the excite- ment of the mob when it was discovered by his wife that his eccentric movements were not the antics of a mountebank, but the struggles of a dying man. I well remember Bartholomew Fair, Richardson's Show (with its band of gorgeously apparelled musi- cians), Wombwell's Menagerie, and the long rows of stalls, one of the chief features of which was the gingerbread " cock in breeches." I was once taken by a lady friend of Mr. Green, the celebrated aeronaut, to Vauxhall Gardens, and sat in the car of the Great Nassau Balloon while it 142 Concluding Remarks. was being inflated. This was the balloon in which Albert Smith took an aerial trip some years after- wards from Cremorne Gardens, an account of which he gave in The Man in the Moon, which was, I think, illustrated by Sala. When a schoolboy I had a strong desire to see the inside of the House of Commons, and, knowing a reader engaged on The Morning Post, I sought his help. I went as the reporters' errand-boy, was ad- mitted into the gallery, and heard Sir Robert Peel Daniel O'Connell, and Richard Lalor Shiel, address the House. I once passed some hours locked up in a police cell at Bow Street. It happened thus : Samuel Taylor printed a weekly paper entitled The Patent Journal, in which appeared an article deemed libel- lous. The injured party, instead of prosecuting the editor or proprietor, caused the printer to be arrested. There was of course no difficulty in procuring bail, but the prosecutor's solicitor demanded twenty-four hours' notice, during which the defendant had to remain in prison. He was, however, permitted to read proofs, and I was his reading-boy. I saw the notorious Lola Montez (Countess of Landsfeld) brought before the magistrate at Marl- borough Street on a charge of bigamy, the young man she married (Lieut. Heald) standing by her side all the while. Her influence over the eccen- tric King of Bavaria, the consequent revolt of the people, and her flight, are matters of history. I heard Louis Kossuth deliver his first oration Conclusion. 143 in English at Copenhagen Fields, and Father Mathew address an enormous crowd on Kennington Common, and witnessed the triumphant entry of Garibaldi into London. And so on. But such incidents come not within the scope of these pages, which contain merely a plain colloquial statement recalling a few facts that may have some interest for printers, and a recital of a few anecdotes, some of which I have before related, with just sufficient personal reference to link them together. With that remark I desire to make my bow, and to wish the reader A HAPPY NEW YEAR. LA BELLE SAUVAGE. Dec., 1896. THE WRITER. (A Sketch by liis old friend, John Proctor.) CJresbam UXWIN BROTHERS, WOKIXG AND LONDON.