“some folks in the streets, by the lord, made me stare,
so comical, droll, is the dress that they wear,
for the gentlemen's waists are atop of their backs,
and their large cassock trowsers they tit just like sacks.
then the ladies—their dresses are equally queer,
they wear such large bonnets, no face can appear:
it puts me in mind, now don't think i'm a joker,
of a coal-scuttle stuck on the head of a poker.
in their bonnets they wear of green leaves such a power,
it puts me in mind of a great cauliflower;
and their legs, 1 am sure, must be ready to freeze,
for they wear all their petticoats up to their knees.
they carry large bags full of trinkets and lockets,
?cause the fashion is now not to wear any pockets;
“while to keep off the flies, and to hide from beholders,
a large cabbage-net is thrown over their shoulders.”
[148]in a moment all was consternation, confusion, and alarm. the brilliant light that illuminated the surrounding buildings presented a scene of dazzling splendour, mingled with sensations of horror not easily to be described. the rattling of engines, the flashing of torches, and the shouting of thousands, by whom they were followed and surrounded, all combined to give lively interest to the circumstance.
it was quickly ascertained that the dreadful conflagration had taken place at an extensive timber-yard, within a very short distance of the theatres, situated as it were nearly in the centre, between covent garden and drury lane. men, women, and children, were seen running in all directions; and report, with his ten thousand tongues, here found an opportunity for the exercise of them all; assertion and denial followed each other in rapid succession, while the flames continued to increase. our party being thus abruptly disturbed in their anticipated enjoyments, bade adieu to their doxies,{1}
1 doxies—a flash term frequently made use of to denominate
ladies of easy virtue.
[149]and rushed forward to the spot, where they witnessed the devouring ravages of the yet unquenched element, consuming with resistless force all that came in its way.
“button up,” said tom, “and let us keep together, for upon these occasions,
“the scamps,{1} the pads,{2} the divers,{3} are all upon the lay."{4}
the flash molishers,{5} in the vicinity of drury lane, were out in parties, and it was reasonable to suppose, that where there was so much heat, considerable thirst must also prevail; consequently the sluiceries were all in high request, every one of those in the neighbourhood being able to boast of overflowing houses, without any imputation upon their veracity. we say nothing of elegant genteel, or enlightened audiences, so frequently introduced in the bills from other houses in the neighbourhood; even the door-ways were block'd up with the collectors and imparters of information. prognostications as to how and where it began, how it would end, and the property that would be consumed, were to be met at every corner—snuffy tabbies, and boosy kids, some giving way to jocularity, and others indulging in lamentations.
“hot, hot, hot, all hot,” said a black man, as he pushed in and out among the crowd; with “hoot awa', the de'il tak your soul, mon, don't you think we are all hot eneugh?—gin ye bring more hot here i'll crack your croon—i've been roasting alive for the last half hoor, an' want to be ganging, but i can't get out.”
“hot, hot, hot, all hot, ladies and gentlemen,” said the dingy dealer in delicacies, and almost as soon disappeared among the crowd, where he found better opportunities for vending his rarities.
“lumps of pudding,” said tom, jerking tallyho by the arm, “what do you think of a slice? here's accommodation for you—all hot, ready dress'd, and well done.”
“egad!” said bob, “i think we shall be well done ourselves presently.”
“keep your hands out of my pockets, you lousy beggar,”
1 scamps—highwaymen.
2 pads—foot-pads.
3 divers—pickpockets.
4 the lay—upon the look-out for opportunities for the
exercise of their profession.
5 flash molishers—a term given to low prostitutes.
[150]said a tall man standing near them, “or b—— me if i don't mill you.”
“you mill me, vhy you don't know how to go about it, mr. bully brag, and i doesn't care half a farden for you—you go for to say as how i—”
“take that, then,” said the other, and gave him a floorer; but he was prevented from falling by those around him.
the salute was returned in good earnest, and a random sort of fight ensued. the accompaniments of this exhibition were the shrieks of the women, and the shouts of the partisans of each of the bruisers—the cries of “go it, little one—stick to it—tip it him—sarve him out—ring, ring—give 'em room—foul, foul—fair, fair,” &c.” at this moment the firemen, who had been actively engaged in endeavours to subdue the devouring flames, obtained a supply of water: the engines were set to work, and the foreman directed the pipe so as to throw the water completely into the mob which had collected round them. this had the desired effect of putting an end to the squabble, and dispersing a large portion of the multitude, at least to some distance, so as to leave good and sufficient room for their operations.
“the devil take it,” cried sparkle, “i am drench'd.”
“ditto repeated,” said tom.
“curse the fellow,” cried bob, “i am sopp'd.”
“never mind,” continued tom,
. . . “by fellowship in woe,
scarce half our pain we know.”
“since we are all in it, there is no laughing allowed.”
in a short time, the water flowed through the street in torrents; the pumping of the engines, and the calls of the firemen, were all the noises that could be heard, except now and then the arrival of additional assistance.
bob watched minutely the skill and activity of those robust and hardy men, who were seen in all directions upon the tops of houses, &c. near the calamitous scene, giving information to those below; and he was astonished to see the rapidity with which they effected their object.
having ascertained as far as they could the extent of the damage, and that no lives were lost, tom proposed a move, and sparkle gladly seconded the motion—“for,” said he, “i am so wet, though i cannot complain of being [151]cold, that i think i resemble the fat man who seemed something like two single gentlemen roll'd into one,' and 'who after half a year's baking declared he had been so cursed hot, he was sure he'd caught cold;' so come along.”
“past twelve o'clock,” said a charley, about three parts sprung, and who appeared to have more light in his head than he could shew from his lantern.
“stop thief, stop thief,” was vociferated behind them; and the night music, the rattles, were in immediate use in several quarters—a rush of the crowd almost knock'd bob off his pins, and he would certainly have fell to the ground, but his nob{l} came with so much force against the bread-basket{2} of the groggy guardian of the night, that he was turn'd keel upwards,{3} and rolled with his lantern, staff, and rattle, into the overflowing kennel; a circumstance which perhaps had really no bad effect, for in all probability it brought the sober senses of the charley a little more into action than the juice of the juniper had previously allowed. he was dragged from his birth, and his coat, which was of the blanket kind, brought with it a plentiful supply of the moistening fluid, being literally sous'd from head to foot.
bob fished for the darkey{4}—the musical instrument{5}—and the post of honour, alias the supporter of peace;{6} but he was not yet complete, for he had dropped his canister-cap,{7} which was at length found by a flash molisher, and drawn from the pool, full of water, who appeared to know him, and swore he was one of the best fellows on any of the beats round about; and that they had got hold of a fire-prigger,{8} and bundled{9} him off to st. giles's watch-house, because he was bolting with a bag of togs.
1 nob—the head.
2 bread-basket—the stomach.
3 keel upwards—originally a sea phrase, and most in use
among sailors, &c.
4 darkey—generally made use of to signify a dark lantern.
5 musical instrument—a rattle.
6 post of honour, or supporter of his peace—stick, or
cudgel.
7 “canister-cap—& hat.
8 fire-prigger—no beast of prey can be more noxious to
society or destitute of feeling than those who plunder the
unfortunate sufferers under that dreadful and destructive
calamity, fire. the tiger who leaps on the unguarded
passenger will fly from the fire, and the traveller shall be
protected by it; while these wretches, who attend on fires,
and rob the unfortunate sufferers under pretence of
coming to give assistance, and assuming the style and manner
of neighbours, take advantage of distress and confusion.
such wretches have a more eminent claim to the detestation
of society, than almost any other of those who prey upon it.
9 bundled—took, or conveyed.
[152]the feeble old scout shook his dripping wardrobe, d——d the water and the boosy kid that wallof'd him into it, but without appearing to know which was him; till bob stepped up, and passing some silver into his mawley, told him he hoped he was not hurt. and our party then, moved on in the direction for russel-street, covent-garden, when sparkle again mentioned his wet condition, and particularly recommended a glass of cogniac by way of preventive from taking cold. “a good motion well made (said tom;) and here we are just by the harp, where we can be fitted to a shaving; so come along.”
having taken this, as sparkle observed, very necessary precaution, they pursued their way towards piccadilly, taking their route under the piazzas of covent-garden, and thence up james-street into long-acre, where they were amused by a circumstance of no very uncommon kind in london, but perfectly new to tallyho. two charleys had in close custody a sturdy young man (who was surrounded by several others,) and was taking him to the neighbouring watch-house “what is the matter?” said tom.
“oh, 'tis only a little bit of a dead body-snatcher,” said one of the guardians. “he has been up to the resurrection rig.{1} here,” continued he, “i've got the bone-basket,”
1 resurrection rig—this subject, though a grave one, has
been treated by many with a degree of comicality calculated
to excite considerable risibility. a late well known
humorist has related the following anecdote:
some young men, who had been out upon the spree, returning
home pretty well primed after drinking plentifully, found
themselves so dry as they passed a public house where they
were well known, they could not resist the desire they had
of calling on their old friend, and taking a glass of brandy
with him by way of finish, as they termed it; and finding
the door open, though it was late, were tempted to walk in.
but their old friend was out of temper. “what is the
matter?”—“matter enough,” replied boniface; “here have i
got an old fool of a fellow occupying my parlour dead drunk,
and what the devil to do with him i don't know. he can
neither walk nor speak.”
“oh,” said one of the party, who knew that a resurrection
doctor resided in the next street, “i'll remove that
nuisance, if that's all you have to complain of; only lend
me a sack, and i'll sell him.”
a sack was produced, and the bacchanalian, who
almost appeared void of animation, was without much
difficulty thrust into it. “give me a lift,” said the
frolicsome blade, and away he went with the load. on
arriving at the doctor's door, he pulled the night bell,
when the assistant made his appearance, not un-accustomed to
this sort of nocturnal visitant.
[153]holding up a bag, “and it was taken off his shoulder as he went along mercer-street, so he can't say nothing at all.
“i have brought you a subject—all right.”
“come in. what is it, a man or a woman?”
“a man.”
“down with him—that corner. d——n it, i was fast asleep.
“call for the sack in the morning, will you, for i want to get to bed.”
“with all my heart.”
then going to a drawer, and bringing the customary fee, “here, (said he) be quick and be off.” this was exactly what the other wanted; and having secured the rubbish,{1} the door was shut upon him. this, however, was no sooner done, than the boosy kid in the sack, feeling a sudden internal turn of the contents of his stomach, which brought with it a heaving, fell, from the upright situation in which he had been placed, on the floor. this so alarmed the young doctor, that he ran with all speed after the vender, and just coming up to him at the corner of the street.
“why, (said he) you have left me a living man!”
“never mind, (replied the other;) kill him when you want him.” and making good use of his heels he quickly disappeared.
a comedian of some celebrity, but who is now too old for theatrical service, relates a circumstance which occurred to him upon his first arrival in town:—
having entered into an engagement to appear upon the boards of one of the london theatres, he sought the metropolis some short time before the opening of the house; and conceiving it necessary to his profession to study life—real life as it is,—he was accustomed to mingle promiscuously in almost all society. with this view he frequently entered the tap rooms of the lowest public houses, to enjoy his pipe and his pint, keeping the main object always in view—
“to catch the manners living as they rise.”
calling one evening at one of these houses, not far from drury lane, he found some strapping fellows engaged in conversation, interlarded with much flash and low slang; but decently dressed, he mingled in a sort of general dialogue with them on the state of the weather, politics, &c. after sitting some time in their company, and particularly noticing their persons and apparent character—
“come, bill, it is time to be off, it is getting rather
darkish.” “ah, very well (replied the other,) let us have
another quart, and then i am your man for a bit of a lark.”
by this time they had learned that the comedian was but
newly arrived in town; and he on the other hand was desirous
of seeing what they meant to be up to. after another quart
they were about to move, when, said one to the other, “as we
are only going to have a stroll and a bit of fun, perhaps
that there young man would like to join us.”
“ah, what say you, sir? have you any objection? but perhaps
you have business on hand and are engaged—”
“no, i have nothing particular to do,” was the reply. “very
well, then if you like to go with us, we shall be glad of
your company.”
“well (said he,) i don't care if i do spend an hour with
you.” and with that they sallied forth.
after rambling about for some time in the vicinity of
tottenham court road, shewing him some of the squares, &c.
describing the names of streets, squares, and buildings,
they approached st. giles's, and leading him under a
gateway, “stop, (said one) we must call upon jack, you know,
for old acquaintance sake,” and gave a loud knock at the
door; which being opened without a word, they all walked in,
and the door was instantly lock'd. he was now introduced to
a man of squalid appearance, with whom they all shook hands:
the mode of introduction was not however of so satis-factory
a description as had been expected, being very laconic, and
conveyed in the following language:—“we have got him.”
“yes, yes, it is all right—come, jack, serve us out some
grog, and then to business.”
the poor comedian in the mean time was left in the utmost
anxiety and surprise to form an opinion of his situation;
for as he had heard something about trepanning, pressing,
&c. he could not help entertaining serious suspicion that he
should either be com-pelled to serve as a soldier or a
sailor; and as he had no intention “to gain a name in arms,”
they were neither of them suitable to his inclinations.
“come,” (said one) walk up stairs and sit down—jack, bring
the lush “—and up stairs they went.
upon entering a gloomy room, somewhat large, with only a
small candle, he had not much opportunity of discovering
what sort of a place it was, though it looked wretched
enough. the grog was brought—“here's all round the grave-
stone, (said one)—come, drink away, my hearty—don't be
alarm'd, we are rum fellows, and we'll put you up to a rig
or two—we are got a rum covey in the corner there, and you
must lend us a hand to get rid of him:” then, holding up the
light, what was the surprise of the poor comedian to espy a
dead body of a man—“you can help us to get him away, and
by g——you shall, too, it's of no use to flinch now.”
a circumstance of this kind was new to him, so that his
perplexity was only increased by the discovery; but he
plainly perceived by the last declaration, that having
engaged in the business, it would be of no use to leave it
half done: he therefore remained silent upon the subject,
drank his grog, when jack came up stairs to say the cart was
ready.
“lend a hand, (said one of them) let us get our load down
stairs—come, my master, turn to with a good heart, all's
right.”
with this the body was conveyed down stairs.
at the back of the house was a small yard separated from a
neighbouring street by a wall—a signal was given by some
one on the other side which was understood by those within—
it was approaching nine o'clock, and a dark night—“come,
(said one of them,) mount you to the top of the wall, and
ding the covey over to the carcass-carter.” this being
complied with, the dead body was handed up to him, which was
no sooner done than the carman outside, perceiving the
watchman approach—“it von't do,” said he, and giving a
whistle, drove his cart with an assumed air of carelessness
away; while the poor comedian, who had a new character to
support, in which he did not conceive himself well up,{1}
was holding the dead man on his lap with the legs projecting
over the wall; it was a situation of the utmost delicacy and
there was no time to recast the part, he was therefore,
obliged to blunder through it as well as he could; the
perspiration of the living man fell plentifully on the
features of the dead as the charley approached in a position
to pass directly under him. those inside had sought the
shelter of the house, telling him to remain quiet till the
old scout was gone by. now although he was not fully
acquainted with the consequences of discovery, he was
willing and anxious to avoid them: he therefore took the
advice, and scarcely moved or breathed—“past nine o'clock,”
said the watchman, as he passed under the legs of the dead
body without looking up, though he was within an inch of
having his castor brushed off by them. being thus relieved,
he was happy to see the cart return; he handed over the
unpleasant burthen, and as quick as possible afterwards
descended from his elevated situation into the street,
determining at all hazards to see the result of this to him
extraordinary adventure; with this view he followed the cart
at a short distance, keeping his eye upon it as he went
along; and in one of the streets leading to long acre, he
perceived a man endeavouring to look into the back part of
the cart, but was diverted from his object by one of the men
who had introduced him to the house, while another of the
confederates snatched the body from the cart, and ran with
all speed down another street in an opposite direction. this
movement had attracted the notice of the watchman, who,
being prompt in his movements, had sprung his rattle. upon
this, and feeling himself too heavily laden to secure his
retreat, the fellow with the dead man perceiving the gate of
an area open, dropped his burden down the steps, slam'd the
gate after him, and continued to fly, but was stopped at the
end of the street; in the mean time the charley in pursuit
had knock'd at the door of the house where the stolen goods
(as he supposed) were deposited.
1 a cant phrase for money.
it was kept by an old maiden lady, who, upon discovering the
dead body of a man upon her premises, had fainted in the
watchman's arms. the detection of the running
resurrectionist was followed by a walk to the watch-house,
where his companions endeavoured to make it appear that they
had all been dining at wandsworth together, that he was not
the person against whom the hue and cry had been raised. but
old snoosey{l} said it wouldn't do, and he was therefore
detained to appear before the magistrate in the morning. the
comedian, who had minutely watched their proceedings, took
care to be at bow-street in good time; where he found upon
the affidavits of two of his comrades, who swore they had
dined together at wandsworth, their pal was liberated.
1 the constable of the night.
[156]bob could not very well understand what was the meaning of this lingo; he was perfectly at a loss to comprehend the terms of deadbody snatching and the resurrection rig. the crowd increased as they went along; and as they did not exactly relish their company, sparkle led. them across the way, and then proceeded to explain.
“why,” said sparkle, “the custom of dead-body snatching has become very common in london, and in many cases appears to be winked at by the magistrates; for although it is considered a felony in law, it is also acknowledged in some degree to be necessary for the surgeons, in order to have an opportunity of obtaining practical information. it is however, at the same time, a source of no slight distress to the parents and friends of the parties who are dragg'd from the peaceful security of the tomb. the resurrection-men are generally well rewarded for their labours by the surgeons who employ them to procure subjects; they are for the most part fellows who never stick at trifles, but make a decent livelihood by moving off, if they can, not only the bodies, but coffins, shrouds, &c. and are always upon the look-out wherever there is a funeral—nay, there have been instances in which the bodies have been dug from their graves within a few hours after being deposited there.”
“it is a shameful practice,” said bob, “and ought not to be tolerated, however; nor can i conceive how, with the apparent vigilance of the police, it can be carried on.”
“nothing more easy,” said sparkle, “where the plan is well laid. these fellows, when they hear a passing-bell toll, skulk about the parish from ale-house to ale-house, till [157]they can learn a proper account of what the deceased died of, what condition the body is in, &c. with which account they go to a resurrection doctor, who agrees for a price, which is mostly five guineas, for the body of a man, and then bargain with an undertaker for the shroud, coffin, &c. which, perhaps with a little alteration, may serve to run through the whole family.”
“and is it possible,” said bob, “that there are persons who will enter into such bargains?”
“no doubt of it; nay, there was an instance of a man really selling his own body to a surgeon, to be appropriated to his own purposes when dead, for a certain weekly sum secured to him while living; but in robbing the church-yards there are always many engaged in the rig—for notice is generally given that the body will be removed in the night, to which the sexton is made privy, and receives the information with as much ease as he did to have it brought—his price being a guinea for the use of the grubbing irons, adjusting the grave, &c. this system is generally carried on in little country church-yards within a few miles of london. a hackney-coach or a cart is ready to receive the stolen property, and there cannot be a doubt but many of these depredations are attended with success, the parties escaping with their prey undetected—nay, i know of an instance that occurred a short time back, of a young man who was buried at wesley's chapel, on which occasion one of the mourners, a little more wary than the rest, could not help observing two or three rough fellows in the ground during the ceremony, which aroused his suspicion that they intended after interment to have the body of his departed friend; this idea became so strongly rooted in his mind, that he imparted his suspicions to the remainder of those who had followed him: himself and another therefore determined if possible to satisfy themselves upon the point, by returning in the dusk of the evening to reconnoitre. they accordingly proceeded to the spot, but the gates being shut, one of them climbed to the top of the wall, where he discovered the very parties, he had before noticed, in the act of wrenching open the coffin. here they are, said he, hard at it, as i expected. but before he and his friend could get over the wall, the villains effected their escape, leaving behind them a capacious sack and all the implements of their infernal trade. they secured the body, had [158]it conveyed home again, and in a few days re-buried it in a place of greater security.{1}
bob was surprised at this description of the resurrection-rig, but was quickly drawn from his contemplation of the depravity of human nature, and what he could not help thinking the dirty employments of life, by a shouting apparently from several voices as they passed the end of st. martin's lane: it came from about eight persons, who appeared to be journeymen mechanics, with pipes in their mouths, some of them rather rorytorious,{2} who, as they approached, broke altogether into the following
song.{3}
“i'm a frolicsome young fellow, i live at my ease,
i work when i like, and i play when i please;
i'm frolicsome, good-natured—i'm happy and free,
and i care not a jot what the world thinks of me.
with my bottle and glass some hours i pass,
sometimes with my friend, and sometimes with my lass:
i'm frolicsome, good-natur'd—i'm happy and free,
and i don't care one jot what the world thinks of me.
by the cares of the nation i'll ne'er be perplex'd,
i'm always good-natur'd, e'en though i am vex'd;
i'm frolicsome, good-humour'd—i'm happy and free,
and i don't care one d——n what the world thinks of me.
1 a circumstance very similar to the one here narrated by
sparkle actually occurred, and can be well authenticated.
2 rorytorious—noisy.
3 this song is not introduced for the elegance of its
composition, but as the author has actually heard it in the
streets at the flight of night or the peep of day, sung in
full chorus, as plain as the fumes of the pipes and the
hiccups would allow the choristers at those hours to
articulate; and as it is probably the effusion of some
shopmate in unison with the sentiments of many, it forms
part of real life deserving of being recorded in this work.
particular trades have particular songs suitable to the
employment in which they are engaged, which while at work
the whole of the parties will join in. in spitalfields,
bethnal-green, &c. principally inhabited by weavers, it is
no uncommon thing to hear twenty or thirty girls singing,
with their shuttles going—the death of barbary allen—there
was an old astrologer—mary's dream, or death and the lady;
and we remember a watch-maker who never objected to hear his
boys sing; but although he was himself a loyal subject, he
declared he could not bear god save the king; and upon being
ask'd his reason—why, said he, it is too slow—for as the
time goes, so the fingers move—give us drops of brandy,
or go to the devil and shake yourself—then i shall have
some work done.
[159]this song, which was repeated three or four times, was continued till their arrival at newport-market, where the songsters divided: our party pursued their way through coventry-street, and arrived without further adventure or interruption safely at home. sparkle bade them adieu, and proceeded to bond-street; and tom and bob sought the repose of the pillow.
it is said that “music hath charms to sooth the savage breast,” and it cannot but be allowed that the yo heave ho, of our sailors, or the sound of a fiddle, contribute much to the speed of weighing anchor.
it is an indisputable fact that there are few causes which more decidedly form, or at least there are few evidences which more clearly indicate, the true character of a nation, than its songs and ballads. it has been observed by the learned selden, that you may see which way the wind sets by throwing a straw up into the air, when you cannot make the same discovery by tossing up a stone or other weighty substance. thus it is with songs and ballads, respecting the state of public feeling, when productions of a more elaborate nature fail in their elucidations: so much so that it is related of a great statesman, who was fully convinced of the truth of the observation, that he said, “give me the making of the national ballads, and i care not who frames your laws.” every day's experience tends to prove the power which the sphere-born sisters of harmony, voice, and verse, have over the human mind. “i would rather,” says mr. sheridan, “have written glover's song of 'hosier's ghost' than the annals of tacitus."
