Part 24

“Interest more particularly hovered around the old toll bell, with its famous loyal inscription, and solid ton of metal. The hour was late when the lot (No. 188 in the catalogue) was reached, but that circumstance did not in any way detract from the briskness of the bidding. Starting at £30, the offers rapidly mounted; and, finally, the prized souvenir of many a tragic decade passed into the hands of Mr. Richardson (acting as agent for Madame Tussaud’s) for the exact sum of £100. The old flagstaff, whence the black flag was hoisted immediately after an execution had taken place, fell to the enterprise of Mr. Fox, a Cape gentleman, who, for 11½ guineas, has ensured that in future the Union Jack shall flutter in South African breezes from its fateful masthead.

“The famous oak and iron-cased half-latticed door associated with memories of Mrs. Elizabeth Fry, of philanthropic fame, went for £20; while Sir George Chubb secured for £30, amidst some cheering, the wonderful old massive oak and iron-bound half-latticed main entrance door that was fixed up when the prison was rebuilt after the Great Fire of 1666. A warder’s key-cupboard, fitted with shelf and iron hooks--identical with the one referred to in _Barnaby Rudge_--extracted £12, 10s. from the pockets of the bidder; while the appointments of the condemned cells, both male and female, realised fairly good prices--the former in particular.

“The chapel pulpit, at £8, 10s., was a distinctly disappointing figure; while it cannot be said that £5, 15s. was an extravagant sum to pay for the complete equipment of the execution shed. The taste for criminology, in the shape of the plaster casts of the heads of nine victims of the gallows, worked out at five guineas.

“Some of the liveliest bidding of the day took place over the numerous lots of copper washing bowls, in which the inmates of Newgate testified that cleanliness was next to godliness. The lowest price realised was £2, 12s. 6d. for a set of three bowls; while sets of four realised, on several occasions, as much as £5. Altogether it was a sale in which monotony and curiosity singularly intermingled, and, withal, one ever to be remembered by those who happened to be present.”

[311] The flying physician of the Chapter Coffee House was Dr. William Buchan, who, in the last half of the eighteenth century, was regularly consulted at this coffee-house in St. Paul’s Alley by ailing bookmen. His advice frequently took this form: “Now, let me prescribe for you. Here, John, bring a glass of punch for Mr.----, unless he likes brandy and water better. Take that, sir, and I’ll warrant you’ll soon be well. You’re a peg too low, you want stimulus, and if one glass won’t do, call for a second.” His place was in a box in the north-east corner of the room, known as the “Wittenagemot,” where he not only prescribed, but acted as an arbiter of debate. James Montgomery, in his _Memoirs_, describes him as “of venerable aspect, neat in his dress, his hair tied behind with a large ribbon, and a gold-headed cane in his hand, quite realising my idea of an Esculapian dignitary.”

Buchan was, indeed, a physician of repute, and his _Domestic Medicine, or the Family Physician_, was not only the first English work of its kind, but ran into nineteen large editions. It was said that the publishers gave him £700 down for it, and reaped £700 a year. In Russia and in America and the West Indies the book was welcomed. The Empress Catherine sent the author a gold medallion and a complimentary letter.

To members of the Society of Friends the career of this genial doctor is of some interest, inasmuch as at one time he was physician to the Yorkshire branch of the Foundling Hospital at Ackworth, an unfortunate institution which in 1779 was taken over by this Society, to become the flourishing and historic school of to-day. Buchan lived many years with his son at No. 6 Percy Street, Rathbone Place, and died there February 25, 1806, aged seventy-six. He was buried in the west cloister of Westminster Abbey, near Dr. Richard Jebb, and Wollett, the engraver.

[312] Flockton was for nearly half a century a showman at St. Bartholomew’s and Sturbridge Fairs. These lines appeared on some of his bills:--

“To raise the soul by means of wood and wire, To Screw the fancy up a few pegs higher; In miniature to show the world at large, As folks conceive a ship who’ve seen a barge, This is the scope of all our actors’ play, Who hope their _wooden_ aims will not be thrown away!”

He died at Camberwell, April 12, 1794, leaving £5000, most of which he bequeathed to his company. An engraving of his show bears the almost Yankee inscription, “The Only Booth in the Fair;” and on the balustrade of the stairs to its entrance is inscribed the curiously modern injunction, “Tumble up! tumble up!”

[313] Honey Lane Market, famous in the eighteenth century for its provisions, keeps its name close to Cheapside. In 1835, the pillared and belfried market-house gave place to the City of London School, since removed to the Thames Embankment. The “Market” is still an odd oasis of domestic shopping in the City’s larger operations.

[314] This was Belzoni’s “Narrative of the Operations and Recent Discoveries within the Pyramids, Temples, Tombs, and Excavations, in Egypt and Nubia;--and of a--Journey to the Coast of the Red Sea, in search of--the Ancient Berenice;--and another to--the Oasis of Jupiter Ammon. By G. Belzoni. London:--John Murray, Albemarle Street.--1820.” At the end of the book comes “Mrs. Belzoni’s Trifling Account--of the--Women of Egypt, Nubia, and Syria.”

That Belzoni, turned author, retained the physical strength of his showman days, is shown in a story told by Dr. Smiles in his _Memoirs of John Murray_. “Like many other men of Herculean power, he was not eager to exhibit his strength, but on one occasion he gave proof of it. Mr. Murray had asked him to accompany him to the Coronation of George IV. They had tickets of admittance to Westminster Hall, but on arriving there they found that the sudden advent of Queen Caroline, attended by a mob claiming admission to the Abbey, had alarmed the authorities, and who had caused all doors to be shut. That by which they should have entered was held close and guarded by several stalwart janitors. Belzoni thereupon advanced to the door, and, in spite of the efforts of these guardians, including Tom Crib and others of the pugilistic corps who had been engaged as constables, opened it with ease, and admitted himself and Mr. Murray.”

[315] Dr. Robert Richardson (1779-1847) went to Egypt and Palestine with the Earl of Belmore in 1816, and published his _Travels_ in 1822. Lady Blessington lent the book to Byron, who said: “The author is just the sort of man I should like to have with me for Greece--clever both as a man and a physician.” Richardson afterwards settled in Rathbone Place. He died in Gordon Street, Gordon Square, Nov. 5, 1847.

[316] The creator of the Leverian Museum was the eldest son of Sir Darcey Lever, of Alkrington, near Manchester. As a young man he had delighted in horses and birds. His treasures had grown in interest and numbers, until he was persuaded to turn a private hobby into a public speculation. He hired Leicester House in 1771, and for thirteen years maintained and increased it, at a cost of £50,000, against which he could set only £13,000 in receipts. In 1784 he was authorised to issue 36,000 guinea tickets, of which one was to entitle the holder to the entire museum. A proposal for the purchase of the museum by the nation, which Dr. Johnson favoured, came to nothing. Only 8000 tickets had been sold when the drawing took place. The one prize, the museum, was drawn by a Mr. Parkinson, who thus acquired for a guinea the largest general collection in Europe, including the curiosities collected by Captain Cook in his South Sea voyages.

Sir Ashton Lever died suddenly in 1788, at Manchester. Meanwhile Mr. Parkinson had built the Rotunda in Albion Place, at the south end of Blackfriars Bridge, for the display of the “Museum Leverianum.” The scheme failed, and in 1806 the museum was sold by auction at King & Lochee’s rooms in King Street, Covent Garden, the sale lasting sixty-five days. The catalogue filled 410 octavo pages, and there were 7879 lots. The deserted “Rotunda” at Blackfriars deteriorated until it was known to Tom Taylor as “something very much like a penny gaff.” Taylor, by the way, tells us that Sir Ashton Lever conceived the idea of sending a ship-load of potatoes to the defenders of Gibraltar, and this was done.

[317] By “this year” Smith means 1784. His note is little more than a copy of the following newspaper paragraph of May 29, 1784, quoted by Lewis in his _History of Islington_: “Thursday a grand cricket-match was played in the White Conduit Fields. Among the players were the Duke of Dorset, Lord Winchilsea, Lord Talbot, Colonel Tarleton, Mr. Howe, Mr. Damer, Hon. Mr. Lennox, and the Rev. Mr. Williams. A pavilion was erected for refreshments, and a number of ladies attended.”

John Frederick Sackville, third Duke of Dorset (1745-99), was a member of the Hambledon Club, and of the committee which drew up the original laws of the M.C.C. He employed several of the best cricketers of his day, and presented Sevenoaks with a cricket ground. As our Ambassador to France he arranged for a British cricket eleven to play in Paris, but the Revolution disturbances prevented the match.

The Earl of Winchilsea (1752-1826) was also a member of the Hambledon. He introduced four wickets, two inches higher than the standard. “The game is then rendered shorter by easier bowling out,” said the _Hampshire Chronicle_, but the Earl’s plan is still a dream and a controversy.

The Hon. Mr. Lennox is referred to in a newspaper of the period as “nephew to his grace of Richmond,” and he and Lord Winchilsea are described as the chief performers at White Conduit House.

Colonel Sir Banastre Tarleton went through the War of Independence with distinction, and lived with “Perdita” (Mary Robinson) for some years, receiving from her much devotion. He represented Liverpool in Parliament for twenty-two years, and attained the rank of General.

The White Conduit Club, of which these gentlemen were members, has a high importance in the history of cricket, for out of it sprang, in 1787, the Marylebone Cricket Club. “The M.C.C. Club,” says Mr. Andrew Lang in a sketch of cricket history, “may be said to have sprung from the ashes of the White Conduit Club, dissolved in 1787. One Thomas Lord, by the aid of some members of the older association, made a ground in the space which is now Dorset Square. This was the first ‘Lord’s’.” Two removals brought the ground to its present location in St. John’s Wood, where the first recorded match was played, June 22, 1814.

[318] Du Val’s Lane is now represented by Hornsey Road. It seems to have been originally “Devil’s Lane,” but to have been popularly re-named from Claude Duval (1643-70), the highwayman, who, like Dick Turpin, favoured this district. Born at Domfront in Normandy, Du Val came to England in the train of the Duke of Richmond, and took to the road. He was famous for his gallantries to his victims. He was captured on January 17, 1669 or 1670, in the Hole-in-the-Wall Tavern, Chandos Street, and although intercession was made for him by ladies of rank, he was hanged at Tyburn within four days. The exhibition of his body at the Tangier Tavern, St. Giles’s, drew such crowds that it had to be stopped. It is hard to believe that Du Val was accorded a grave in the centre aisle of Covent Garden Church, and that his epitaph began--

Here lies Du Vall: Reader, if male thou art, Look to thy purse; if female, to thy heart;

but it is so stated in the _Memoirs of Monsieur Du Val_, 1670. His funeral, we read, “was attended with many flambeaux, and a numerous train of mourners, whereof most were of the beautiful sex.”

[319] Nathaniel Hillier, of Pancras Lane, merchant, died March 1, 1783, aged 76 (_Gentleman’s Magazine_).

[320] This tea-pot passed into the possession of that eccentric virtuoso, Henry Constantine Noel, of whom Smith gives an account under 1818. Noel had the following extraordinary inscription engraved on it:--

“We are told by Lucian, that the earthen lamp, which had administered to the lucubrations of Epictetus, was at his death purchased for the enormous sum of three thousand drachmas: why, then, may not imagination equally amplify the value of this unadorned vessel, long employed for the infusion of that favourite herb, whose enlivening virtues are said to have so often protracted the elegant and edifying lucubrations of Samuel Johnson; the zealous advocate of that innocent beverage, against its declared enemy, Jonas Hanway. It was weighed out for sale under the inspection of Sir John Hawkins, at the very minute when they were in the next room closing the incision through which Mr. Cruickshank had explored the ruinated machinery of its dead master’s thorax; so Bray the silversmith, conveyed there in Sir John’s carriage, thus hastily to buy the plate, informed its present possessor, Henry Constantine Noel, by whom it was, for its celebrated services, on the 1st of November 1788, rescued from the undiscriminating obliterations of the furnace.”

[321] In this letter, Charles Townley, the collector of the Townley marbles, probably refers to William Lock (1732-1810), the wealthy connoisseur, and a friend of Madame d’Arblay. He lived at Norbury Park, where he was hospitable to Madame de Staël. He was described as the “arbiter, advocate, and common friend of all lovers of art.”

[322] The “Triumph of Bacchus” was one of eight great pictures which Rubens painted for the palace at Madrid.

[323] Annibale Caracci was employed by Cardinal Farnese to decorate the famous gallery that bears his name. He produced a masterly series of frescoes.

[324] Welbore Ellis, first Baron Mendip, was the third owner of Pope’s Villa at Twickenham, after the poet.

[325] “1811, Feb. 3.--In Great Ormond Street, Atkinson Bush, Esq., in the 76th year of his age” (_European Magazine_, February 1811).

[326] Parton’s book, _Some Account of the Hospital and Parish of St. Giles’ in the Fields, Middlesex_ (1822), by “the late” Mr. John Parton, gives the plan in question, but does not touch on the matter of its authenticity. It is clear, however, that his plans and maps are largely conjectural.

[327] A distinction she shared with Miss Mary Moser. These are the only women who have been members of the Royal Academy, but it cannot be said that their talent was very exceptional. Peter Pindar irreverently said that Mary Moser was made an R.A. for “a sublime Picture of a Plate of Gooseberries.”

[328] The annals of British art do not contain a more tragic story than that of “the late” William Wynn Ryland. A man of great talent, he was engraver to George III., and an exhibitor at the Royal Academy; but it was his fate to be hanged at Tyburn for forging a bond of several thousand pounds. How he presented this document in person at the India House, is narrated by Henry Angelo as a proof of his extraordinary self-command.

“The cashier, on receiving the document, examined it carefully, and referred to the ledger; then, comparing the date, observed, ‘Here is a mistake, Sir; the bond, as entered, does not become due until to-morrow.’

“Ryland, begging permission to look at the book, on its being handed to him, observed: ‘So I perceive--there must be an error in your entry of one day;’ and offered to leave the bond, not betraying the least disappointment or surprise. The mistake appearing to the cashier to be obviously an error in his office, the bond was paid to Ryland, who departed with the money. The next day the true bond was presented, when the forgery was discovered, of course; and, within a few hours after, the fraud was made public, and steps were taken for the recovery of the perpetrator.

“This document, lately in the possession of a gentleman now deceased, I have often seen. It is, perhaps, the most extraordinary piece of deceptive art, in the shape of imitation, that was ever produced.”

A reprieve for Ryland was sought on the ground of his extraordinary abilities, but, as was usual in cases of forgery, without success. George III. is said to have replied: “No; a man with such ample means of providing for his wants could not reasonably plead necessity as an excuse for his crime.” But the artist’s petition for a respite was both granted and renewed. He explained that he desired no extension of life except as the means of completing his last engraving, and so adding to his wife’s stock of plates. The subject was Queen Eleanor sucking the poison from the arm of her husband, Edward I., from a painting by Angelica Kauffmann. He laboured hard on this work, and when he received the first proof from his printer, said, “Mr. Haddril, I thank you; my task is now accomplished.” He was hanged within a week, and his was the last execution at Tyburn. Henry Angelo says that, like Dr. Dodd, Ryland was allowed to proceed to Tyburn in a mourning coach.

The story of William Blake’s prophecy of Ryland’s end is well known. His father had intended to apprentice him to Ryland, but was frustrated by the unaccountable attitude of the boy, who, after they had called on the engraver at his studio, said, “Father, I do not like the man’s face; it looks as if he will live to be hanged.” Twelve years later came the fulfilment. Col. W. F. Prideaux recently mentioned in _Notes and Queries_ that he possesses a curious collection concerning Ryland’s case which was formed by the Rev. H. Cotton, the ordinary of Newgate. It includes the original handbill offering a reward for Ryland’s apprehension, and a drawing of the engraver’s mother by John Thomas Smith.

[329] In the _Dictionary of National Biography_, Miss E. T. Bradley sums up the impressions Angelica Kauffmann made: “Goldsmith wrote some lines to her; Garrick, whom she painted, was much fascinated by her, and Fuseli paid addresses to her. Her most serious flirtation, however, was with Sir Joshua Reynolds, whose acquaintance she made directly she arrived in London. He painted her portrait twice. She frequently visited his studio, and painted a weak and uncharacteristic portrait of the painter, which Bartolozzi engraved. Nathaniel Dance, whom she had met in Italy, is also said to have been hopelessly in love with her.”

[330] Sir Nathaniel Dance-Holland, first baronet (1734-1811), met Angelica Kauffmann in Italy, and was said to have been hopelessly in love with her. He was an original member of the Royal Academy, but resigned his diploma in 1790 on his marriage to Mrs. Drummer, known facetiously as “The Yorkshire Fortune,” from her possession of £18,000 a year. He assumed the additional name of Holland, and sat in Parliament for Grinstead. In his time he was a capable but stiff portrait painter, and painted full-length portraits of George III. and his Queen.

[331] A deed of separation was obtained from Pope Pius VI. After the “Count’s” death, Angelica Kauffmann married in London, July 14, 1781, Antonio Pietro Zucchi, a Venetian painter who had long lived in England, and had been employed by Adam, the architect. He decorated Garrick’s house in the Adelphi. He died in 1795.

[332] Thomas Pitt, first Baron Camelford, was a prominent politician and an opponent of Lord North. At Twickenham, where he settled in 1762, he and Horace Walpole exchanged ideas on Gothic architecture.

[333] Probably the well-known Dr. Bates, M.D., of Missenden, Bucks.

[334] Willey Reveley, architect, and editor of vol. iii. of Stuart’s _Antiquities of Athens_.

[335] Smith’s task had been protracted by his tiresome quarrel with his collaborator, John Sidney Hawkins. They pamphletted and “vindicated” to their hearts’ content, but the dispute is not worth unravelling.

[336] Henry White, then Sacrist of Lichfield Cathedral.

[337] George Dance, who died in 1825, was the architect of the recently demolished Newgate Prison, also of St. Luke’s Hospital and the Guildhall entrance façade. He was the last survivor of the foundation members of the Royal Academy, and was buried in St. Paul’s Cathedral. William Daniell, R.A., was well known for his Indian and Oriental illustrations. He painted a panorama of Madras, and another of “The City of Lucknow and the mode of Taming Wild Elephants.” His painting, “A View of the Long Walk, Windsor,” is in the royal collection.

[338] Fuseli’s quaint violences of speech were many, and gained in effect from his Swiss accent. He swore roundly, a habit which Haydon says he caught from his friend Dr. Armstrong, the poet. He said a subject should interest, astonish, or move; if it did none of these, it was worth “noding by Gode.” A visitor to his imposing, but unsuccessful, Milton Gallery of forty paintings, said to him, “Pray, sir, what is that picture?” “It is the bridging of Chaos; the subject from Milton.” “No wonder,” said the inquirer, “I did not know it, for I never read Milton, but I will.” “I advise you not, sir, for you will find it a d----d tough job.” He said, on looking at Northcote’s painting of the angel meeting Balaam and his ass: “Northcote, you are an angel at an ass, but an ass at an angel.” Once, at the table of Mr. Coutts, the banker, Mrs. Coutts, dressed like Morgiana, came dancing in, presenting her dagger at every breast. As she confronted Nollekens, Fuseli called out, “Strike--strike--there’s no fear; Nolly was never known to bleed.” He recommended a sculptor to find some newer emblem of eternity than a serpent with a tail in its mouth. The _something newer_ (says Cunningham) startled a man whose imagination was none of the brightest, and he said, “How shall I find something new?” “Oh, nothing so easy,” said Fuseli; “I’ll help you to it. When I went away to Rome I left two fat men cutting fat bacon in St. Martin’s Lane; in ten years’ time I returned, and found the two fat men cutting fat bacon still; twenty years more have passed, and there the two fat fellows cut the fat flitches the same as ever. Carve them--if they do not look like an image of eternity, I wot not what does.”

[339] In the last ten years of his stage career Bannister travelled with his “Budget” of songs, anecdotes, and imitations, through England, Scotland, and Ireland.

[340] The Rev. Stephen Weston, F.R.S. (1747-1830), a well-known antiquary and classical scholar, held the Devonshire livings of Mainhead and Little Hempston, Devon, but left that county after the death of his wife. He engaged in some spirited attempts to translate Gray’s _Elegy_ into Greek, and published his _Elegia Grayiana, Græce_, in 1794. He was fond of the French capital, and published _The Praise of Paris_ in 1803. An old friend of Nollekens, he was present at the funeral so airily described by Smith in his life of the sculptor.

[341] Swan _upping_ (or marking) is still carried out yearly on the Thames by the representatives of the Crown and by the Dyers’ and Vintners’ Companies, who have the privilege of keeping swans on the river. Formerly the state barges of the City went up to Staines, and ceremonies were performed. Even to-day the expedition of the swan-markers is picturesque; the skiffs bear the flags of the several authorities, the markers wear flannels and distinguishing jerseys, and the overseers don special tunics and peaked caps. The birds are caught by means of long hooked poles.