Chapter 4

That knowing jockey Sir Robert Peel has stated that the old charger, John Bull, is, from over-feeding, growing restive and unmanageable--kicking up his heels, and playing sundry tricks extremely unbecoming in an animal of his advanced age and many infirmities. To keep down this playful spirit, Sir Robert proposes that a new burthen be placed upon his back in the shape of a house-tax, pledging himself that it shall be heavy enough to effect the desired purpose. Commend us to these Tories--they are rare fellows for

* * * * *

A STRONG RESEMBLANCE.

Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer has frequently been accused of identifying himself with the heroes of his novels. His late treatment at Lincoln leaves no doubt of his identity with

* * * * *

A PRUDENT CHANGE.

"So Lord John Russell is married," said one of the Carlton Club loungers to Colonel Sibthorp the other morning. "Yes," replied that gallant punster; "his Lordship is at length convinced that his talents will be better employed in the management of the _Home_ than the _Colonial_ department."

* * * * *

THE ABOVE-BRIDGE NAVY.

AN ARTICLE INTENDED FOR THE "QUARTERLY REVIEW," BUT FALLEN INTO THE HANDS OF "PUNCH."

I.--_Hours of the Starting of the Boats of the Iron Steam Boat Company_. London: 1841.

II.--_Notes of a Passenger on Board the Bachelor, during a Voyage from Old Swan Pier, London Bridge, to the Red House, Battersea_. CATNACH: 1840.

III.--_Rule Britannia, a Song_. London: 1694.

IV.--_Two Years before the Mast_. CUNNINGHAM. London.

V.--_Checks issued by the London and Westminster Steam Boat Company_. CATTARNS AND FRY.

At a time when the glory of England stands--like a door shutting or opening either way--entirely upon a pivot; when the hostile attitude of enemies abroad threatens not more, nor perhaps less, than the antagonistic posture of foes at home--at such a time there is at least a yet undug and hitherto unexplored mine of satisfaction in the refreshing fact, that the Thames is fostering in his bosom an entirely new navy, calculated to bid defiance to the foe--should he ever come--in the very heart and lungs, the very bowels and vitals, the very liver and lungs, or, in one emphatic word, the very pluck of the metropolis. There is not a more striking instance of the remarkable connexion between little--very little--causes, and great--undeniably great--effects, than the extraordinary origin, rise, progress, germ, development, and maturity, of the _above-bridge navy_, the bringing of which prominently before the public, who may owe to that navy at some future--we hope so incalculably distant as never to have a chance of arriving--day, the salvation of their lives, the protection of their hearths, the inviolability of their street-doors, and the security of their properties. Sprung from a little knot of (we wish we could say "_jolly young_," though truth compels us to proclaim) far from jolly, and decidedly old, "watermen," the _above-bridge navy_, whose shattered and unfrequented wherries were always "in want of a fare," may now boast of covering the bosom of the Thames with its fleet of steamers; thus, as it were, bringing the substantial piers of London Bridge within a stone's throw--if we may be allowed to pitch it so remarkably strong--of the once remote regions of the Beach[3], and annihilating, as it were, the distance between sombre southwark and bloom-breathing Battersea.

[3] Chelsea.

The establishment of this little fleet may well be a proud reflection to those shareholders who, if they have no dividend in specie, have another species of dividend in the swelling gratification with which the heart of every one must be inflated, as, on seeing one of the noble craft dart with the tide through the arches--supposing, of course, it does not strike against them--of Westminster Bridge, he is enabled mentally to exclaim, "There goes some of _my_ capital!" But if the pride of the proprietor--if _he_ can be called a proprietor who derives nothing from his property--be great, what must be the feelings of the captain to whose guidance the bark is committed! We can scarcely conceive a nobler subject of contemplation than one of those once indigent--not to say absolutely done up--watermen, perched proudly on the summit of a paddle-box, and thinking--as he very likely does, particularly when the vessel swags and sways from side to side--of the height he stands upon.

It may be, and has been, urged by some, that the Thames is not exactly the place to form the naval character; that a habit of braving the "dangers of the deep" is hardly to be acquired where one may walk across at low tide, on account of the water being so confoundedly _shallow_: but these are cavillings which the lofty and truly patriotic mind will at once and indignantly repudiate. The humble urchin, whose sole duty consists in throwing out a rope to each pier, and holding hard by it while the vessel stops, may one day be destined for some higher service: and where is the English bosom that will not beat at the thought, that the dirty lad below, whose exclamation of "Ease her!--stop her!--one turn ahead!"--may one day be destined to give the word of command on the quarterdeck, and receive, in the shape of a cannon-ball, a glorious full-stop to his honourable services!

Looking as we do at the _above-bridge navy_, in a large and national light, we are not inclined to go into critical details, such as are to be met with, _passim_, in the shrewd and amusing work of "The Passenger on board the Bachelor." There may be something in the objection, that there is no getting comfortably into one of these boats when one desires to go by it. It may be true, that a boy's neglecting "to hold" sufficiently "hard," may keep the steamer vibrating and Sliding about, within a yard of the pier, without approaching it. But these are small considerations, and we are not sure that the necessity of keeping a sharp look out, and jumping aboard at precisely the right time, does not keep up that national ingenuity which is not the least valuable part of the English character. In the same light are we disposed to regard the occasional running aground of these boats, which, at all events, is a fine practical lesson of patience to the passengers. The collisions are not so much to our taste, and these, we think, though useful to a certain extent for inculcating caution, should be resorted to as rarely as possible.

We have not gone into the system of signals and "_hand motions_," if we may be allowed to use a legal term, by which the whole of this navy is regulated; but these, and other details, may, perhaps, be the subject of some future article for we are partial to

* * * * *

CORRESPONDENCE.

_Newcastle-street, July --, 1841._

MR. PUNCH,--Little did I think wen i've bin a gaping and starin' at you in the streats, that i shud ever happli to you for gustice. Isntet a shame that peeple puts advurtusmints in the papers for a howsmaid for a lark, as it puts all the poor survents out of plaice into a dredfool situashun.

As i alwuss gets a peep at the paper on the landin' as i takes it up for breckfus, i was unfoughtunite enuf to see a para--thingem-me-bob--for a howsmaid, wanted in a nobbleman's fameli. On course, a young woman has a rite to better hursef if she can; so I makes up my mind at wunce--has i oney has sicks pouns a ear, and finds my own t and shuggar--i makes up my mind to arsk for a day out; which, has the cold mutting was jest enuf for mastur and missus without me, was grarnted me. I soon clears up the kitshun, and goes up stares to clean mysef. I puts on my silk gronin-napple gownd, and my lase pillowrin, likewise my himitashun vermin tippit, (give me by my cussen Harry, who keeps kumpany with me on hot-dinner days), also my tuskin bonnit, parrersole, and blacbag; and i takes mysef orf to South-street, but what was my felines, wen, on wringing the belle, a boy anser'd the daw, with two roes of brarse beeds down his jacket.

"Can i speek a word with the futman?" says i, in my ingaugingist manner.

"i'm futman," says he.

"Then the cook," says i.

"We arn't no cook," says he.

"No cook!" says i, almose putrifide with surprise; "you must be jokin'"--

"Jokin'," says he; "do you no who lives here?"

"Not exacly," says i.

"Lord Milburn," says he.

i thort i shud have dropt on the step, as a glimmerin' of the doo shot aX my mine.

"Then you don't want no howsmaid?" says i.

"Howsmaid!" says the boy; "go to blazes: (What could he mean by

"No; i've toled fifty on ye so this mornin'--it's a oaks."

"Then more shame of Lord Milborn to do it," says i; "he may want a place hissef some day or other," sayin' of which i bounsed off the doorstep, with all tho dignity i could command.

Now, what i wants to no is, wether i can't summons his lordship for my day out. Harry sais, should i ever come in contract with Lord Milborn, i'm to trete him with the silent kontempt of

Yours truly,

* * * * *

A MOVING SCENE.

The present occupants of the government premises in Downing-street, whose leases will expire in a few days, are busily employed packing up their small affairs before the new tenants come into possession. It is a pitiful sight to behold these poor people taking leave of their softly-stuffed seats, their rocking-chairs, their footstools, slippers, cushions, and all those little official comforts of which they nave been so cruelly deprived. That man must, indeed, be hard-hearted who would refuse to sympathise with their sorrows, or to uplift his voice in the doleful Whig chorus, when he hears--

* * * * *

THE DRAMA

DUCROW AT SADLER'S WELLS.

When, in a melo-drama, the bride is placing her foot upon the first step of the altar, and Ruffi_aa_no tears her away, far from the grasp of her lover; when a rich uncle in a farce dies to oblige a starving author in a garret; when, two rivals duellise with toasting-forks; when such things are plotted and acted in the theatre, hypercritics murmur at their improbability; but compare them with the haps of the drama off the stage, and they become the veriest of commonplaces. This is a world of change: the French have invaded Algiers, British arms are doing mortal damage in the Celestial Empire, Poulett Thomson has gone over to Canada, and oh! wonder of wonders! Astley's has removed to Sadler's Wells!! The pyrotechnics of the former have gone on a visit to the hydraulics of the latter, the red fire of Astley's has come in contact with the real water of the Wells, yet, marvel superlative! the unnatural meeting has been successful--there has not been a single _hiss_.

What was the use of Sir Hugh Middleton bringing the New River to a "head," or of King Jamie buying shares in the speculation on purpose to supply Sadler's Wells with real water, if it is to be drained off from under the stage to make way for horses? Shade of Dibdin! ghost of Grimaldi! what would you have said in your day? To be sure ye were guilty of pony races: they took place _outside_ the theatre, but within the walls, in the very _cella_ of the aquatic temple, till now, never! We wonder ye do not rise up and "pluck bright Honner from the vasty deep" of his own tank.

Sawdust at Sadler's Wells! What next, Mr. Merriman?

If Macready had been engaged for Clown, and set down to sing "hot codlins;" were Palmerston "secured" for Pierrot, or Lord Monteagle for Jim Crow, who would have wondered? But to saddle "The Wells" with horses--profanity unparalleled!

Spitefully predicting failure from this terrible declension of the drama, we went, in a mood intensely ill-natured, to witness how the "Horse of the Pyrenees" would behave himself at Sadler's Wells. From the piece so called we anticipated no amusement; we thought the regular company would make but sorry equestrians, and, like the King of Westphalia's hussars, would prove totally inefficient, from not being habituated to mount on horseback. Happily we were mistaken; nothing could possibly _go_ better than both the animals and the piece. The actors acquitted themselves manfully, even including the horses. The mysterious Arab threw no damp over the performances, for he was personated by Mr. Dry. The little Saracen was performed so well by _le petit Ducrow_, that we longed to see _more_ of him. The desperate battle fought by about sixteen supernumeraries at the pass of Castle Moura, was quite as sanguinary as ever: the combats were perfection--the glory of the red fire was nowise dimmed! It was magic, yes, it _was_ magic! Mr. Widdicomb was there!!

Thinking of magic and Mr. Widdicomb (of whom dark hints of identification with the wandering Jew have been dropped--who, _we know_, taught Prince George of Denmark horsemanship--who is mentioned by Addison in the "Spectator," by Dr. Johnson in the "Rambler," and helped to put out each of the three fires that have happened at Astley's during the last two centuries), brought by these considerations to a train of mind highly susceptible of supernatural agency, we visited--

THE WIZARD OF THE NORTH,

the illustrious professor of _Phoenixsistography_, and other branches of the black art, the names of which are as mysterious as their performance.

One only specimen of his prowess convinced us of his supernatural talents. He politely solicited the loan of a bank-note--he was not choice as to the amount or bank of issue. "It may be," saith the play-bill, "a Bank of England or provincial note, for any sum from five pounds to one thousand." His is better magic than Owen Glendower's, for the note "did come when he did call it!" for a confiding individual in the boxes (dress circle of course) actually did lend him, the Wizard, a cool hundred! Conceive the power, in a metaphysical sense, the conjuror must have had over the lender's mind! Was it animal magnetism?--was it terror raised by his extraordinary performances, that spirited the cash out of the pocket of the man? who, perhaps, thought that such supernatural talents _might_ be otherwise employed against his very existence, thus occupying his perturbed soul with the alternative, "Your money or your life!"

This subject is deeply interesting to actors out of engagements, literary men, and people who "have seen better days"--individuals who have brought this species of conjuration to a high state of perfection. It is a new and important chapter in the "art of borrowing." We perceive in the Wizard's advertisements he takes pupils, and offers to make them proficient in any of his delusions at a guinea per trick. We intend to put ourselves under his instructions for the bank-note trick, the moment we can borrow one-pound-one for that purpose.

Besides this, the Wizard does a variety of things which made our hair stand on end, even while reading their description in his play-bill. We did not see him perform them. There was no occasion--the bank-note trick convinced us--for the man who can borrow a hundred pounds whenever he wants it can do anything.

Everybody ought to go and see him. Young ladies having a taste for sentimental-looking men, who wear their hair _à la jeune France_; natural historians who want to see guinea-pigs fly; gamesters who would like to be made "fly" to a card trick or two; _connoisseurs_, who wish to see how plum-pudding may be made in hats, will all be gratified by a visit to the Adelphi.

* * * * *

MACBETH AT THE SURREY.

We heard the "Macbeth choruses" exquisitely performed, and saw the concluding combat furiously fought at this theatre. This was all, appertaining unto Macbeth in which we could detect a near approach to the meaning and purpose of the text, except the performance of the _Queen_, by Mrs. H. Vining, who seemed to understand the purport of the words she had to speak, and was, consequently, inoffensive--a rare merit when Shakspere is attempted on the other side of the Thames.

The qualifications demanded of an actor by the usual run of Surrey audiences are lungs of undeniable efficiency, limbs which will admit of every variety of contortion, and a talent for broad-sword combats. How, then, could the new Macbeth--a Mr. Graham--think of choosing this theatre for his first appearance? His deportment is quiet, and his voice weak. It has, for instance, been usually thought, by most actors, that after a gentleman has murdered his sovereign, and caused a similar peccadillo to be committed upon his dearest friend, he would be, in some degree, agitated, and put out of the even tenor of his way, when the ghost of Banquo appears at the banquet. On such an occasion, John Kemble and Edmund Kean used to think it advisable to start with an expression of terror or horror; but Mr. Graham indulges us with a new reading. He carefully places one foot somewhat in advance of the other, and puts his hands together with the utmost deliberation. Again, he says mildly--

"Avaunt! and quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee!"

in a tone which would well befit the situation, if the text ran thus:--

"Dear me, how singular! Pray go!"

When he does attempt to vociferate, the asthmatic complaint under which he evidently labours prevents him from delivering the sentences in more copious instalments than the following:--

"I'll fight--till--from my bones--my flesh--be hacked!"

We may be told that Mr. Graham cannot help his physical defects; but he can help being an actor, and, above all, choosing a part which requires great prowess of voice. In less trying characters, he may prove an acquisition; for he showed no lack of judgment nor of acquaintance with the conventional rules of the stage. At the Surrey, and in "Macbeth," he is entirely out of his element. Above all, let him never play with Mr. Hicks, whose energy in the combat scene, and ranting all through _Macduff_, brought down "_Brayvo, Hicks!_" in showers. The contrast is really too disadvantageous.

But the choruses! Never were they more be_witch_ingly performed. Leffler sings the part of _Hecate_ better than his best friends could have anticipated; and, apart from the singing, Miss Romer's _acting_ in the _soprano_ witch, is picturesque in the extreme.

* * * * *

HOP INTELLIGENCE

Fanny Elsler has made an enormous fortune by her _trips_ in America. Few _pockets_ are so crammed by _hops_ as hers.

Oscar Byrne, professor of the College Hornpipe to the London University, had a long interview yesterday with Lord Palmerston to give his lordship lessons in the new waltz step. The master complains that, despite a long political life's practice, the pupil does not turn _quick enough_. A change was, however, apparent at the last lesson, and his lordship is expected soon to be able to effect a complete rota-_tory_ motion.

Mademoiselle Taglioni has left London for Germany, her fatherland, the country of her _pas_.

The society for the promotion of civilization have engaged Mr. Tom Matthews to teach the Hottentots the minuet-de-la-Cour and tumbling. He departs with the other missionaries when the hot weather sets in.

* * * * *

Charles Kean is becoming so popular with the jokers of the day, that we have serious thoughts of reserving a corner entirely to his use. Amongst the many hits at the young tragedian, the two following are not the worst:--

EARLY ADVANTAGES.

"Kean's juvenile probation at Eton has done him good service with the aristocratic patrons of the drama," remarked a lady to a witty friend of ours. "Yes, madam," was the reply, "he seems to have gained by _Eaton_ what his father lost by _drinking_."

BILL-STICKERS BEWARE.

"How Webster puffs young Kean--he seems to monopolise the walls!" said Wakley to his colleague, Tom Duncombe. "Merely a realisation of the adage,--_The weakest always goes to the wall_," replied the idol of Finsbury.