Chapter 3

"Arriving at a settlement, marked out in the maps as Great Russell Street, the marks of civilization became more apparent, particularly when we saw a native approaching in shoes, stockings, and a _bona fide_ pair of breeches; but our surprise was increased on reaching the place of our destination, 'Russell Square,' to find very few traces of savage life, and a wigwam of considerable extent erected in close imitation of our beloved and long-lost homes!

"Having stopped at a house which had the appearance of being inhabited by a civilized being, our interpreter, in the _patois_ of the country, requested we might be admitted inside, for tire sole purpose of judging of the manners and customs of foreign nations. The creature who received our request was habited much after the same fashion as our footmen, only the wretch, as if to put his uncivilization beyond a doubt, actually wore white cotton stockings, and his hair without powder. Being shown up stairs, we entered a room of considerable dimensions, and our astonishment may be more easily conceived than expressed, on our finding, instead of naked beings, squatted cross-legged on mats on the floor, we found them decently attired, and sitting upright in most Christian-like and indubitable chairs. The master of the house, a short, fat, and, for a savage, an apparently inoffensive man, having by no means a blood-thirsty appearance, made us welcome according to the fashion of the country, which he did by the following ceremony:--Placing himself about half a yard before us, with both sets of his toes so drawn in as to nearly meet, one of his his hands being stuck where his breeches pocket should be placed, he ducked his head and shoulders (as if he would make a bow), at the same time drawing one of his feet from the other, and scraping it on the floor; this accomplished, he resumed his former position, muttered some unintelligible words, which sounded like 'perdigiously happy,' tucked up the collar of his shirt (for the wretch actually wore one), and stalked away.

"It is needless to say that we were regarded with symptoms of infinite astonishment by the natives, with whom the room was filled, and who appeared to be mimicking the manners of civilized life, and often calling out words, which we have since understood to be names of liquids peculiar to the country, viz--'port,' 'sherry,' and 'lemonade.' Our curiosity being amply gratified, the short fat native, who had first addressed us, marched up to me, and to my indescribable alarm offered to introduce me to his daughter, a young savage of about seventeen, who he pointed out sitting in a nearly civilized attitude on a legitimate sofa. Perceiving me shudder at the proposal, for I had heard that the New Zealanders, and other barbarous tribes, sometimes eat their friends, as well as their enemies, he inquired of me the cause, and fearful of the consequence of exciting the anger of these savages while in their power, I expressed my total willingness to the introduction, and declared that my only objection was, lest she should scratch; upon his assuring me she was perfectly tame. I consented to be led (though like a lamb to the slaughter) to the couch, praying most fervently, though silently, she would not make a meal of me. What was my horror when the short fat gentleman addressed her with a horrid wink of the eye--'Poppett, as I know you to be partial to these smart young fellows (Heavens! she was then addicted to cannibalism), I have brought you one.' I heard no more, but making up my mind I was to be served up for supper, flew with the utmost' rapidity my stays would permit me, when my ears were electrified at the sounds of Stultz and Nugee. I knew not how it was, but the hearing of these words, surrounded as I was by doubt and danger, calmed at once my agitated spirits, like some well-remembered air which we have heard in our infancy, stealing over the waste of years and distance, I felt completely overcome by my feelings. Home, and my native land, with a thousand sweet associations of relatives, and all the charms of friendship and love, seemed to accompany the sounds, and I gazed with unqualified mildness on the innocent source of my happiness, who stood gazing in simple wonder at my ill-suppressed surprise. I was nearly fainting, and should have fallen, had it not been for a kind-hearted squaw in a satin slip, and blond trimmings, bathing my temples with a grateful distillation of otto of roses. The natural reserve of my disposition having been overcome by the force of nature, I proposed to our entertainer, if he would part with his daughter to take her back with us, and make her a member of the civilized world. He shook his head, and declared his inability to relinquish her; so great do we find the force of parental affection even in savage life; but upon the approach of his son, an eligible and ductile youth, with a promising pair of whiskers, and irreproachable pantaloons, he consented to part with him, declaring that next to his daughter he was the only solace of his life. As the youth bore the name of his tribe, the semi-barbarous cognomen of Simpson, he agreed to accept that of _Lee boo_, not only as being more civilized, but expressive of his situation. As he was of an ambitious nature, he had made, unknown to his parent, many excursions towards the west; we therefore agreed to accept of him as our guide; and we left our simple and promising friends with the assurance of a speedy return: as a pledge, we exchanged one of our cravats, well stiffened, and with the Petersham tie, for one of the collars worn by the male, and a flounce of the she-savage's petticoats; promising also to send them, on our arrival, a pattern of Lord H------h's beard, which approached nearer to savage life than any other object we could think of in the civilized world.

"We reached Connaught Place without any accident, with the young savage as a trophy, and received the most affectionate welcome on our unexpected and safe return. Prayers were put up the following day at most of the fashionable churches, and a solemn _te deum_ was composed expressly for the occasion. The young savage has already realized the expectation we formed of his docility and capacity; already he speaks our language equal to a native--has run through the whole of his property--keeps race-horses--and has an opera singer under his protection--never pays a bill, and is admitted without a voucher at every hell in the metropolis; has forgot his father's name, and never hears the unknown region of 'Russell Square' mentioned, but he in-quires--'if that is not the place where the people drink porter, and don't wear shoes and stockings?'"

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SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

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THE DUST CART.

Dust, than which nothing can, upon a superficial view, be considered more insignificant, was, a few years back, of very considerable value, far surpassing the value of many things acquired by difficulty and danger, and for which the breadth of oceans are traversed, through storms and tempests. Perhaps a cruise to the Gold Coast, with all its drawbacks and contingencies, is scarcely so profitable as the returns on the quantity of dust collected in the City of London, during the time necessary for the voyage, and its accomplished return. About the period I allude to, the parish of St. Luke received no less a sum than between one and two thousand pounds a-year for dust collected, which, being placed to the parish account, tended in a _great measure_ to keep down the poor'-rates. In addition to its value, no kind of property is better secured; as will be evinced, when the reader is informed that his present Majesty, George IV., when he was Prince Regent, lost an action for the recovery of the value of dust, carried away from the palace, by his servants, to be used as manure. In order to a further illustration of the subject, it is necessary to inform the reader, that what has hitherto been considered is but a part of that incongruous combination, the contents of a dust-cart--the very last residuum--the matter called "brize;" previous to which, by the result of much labour, of picking, raking, sorting, and sifting, a very pretty property is collected by the various shareholders of this joint, stock company, as a recent case that was brought forward at the Bow-street office will suffice to convince us.[3]

Perhaps the reader may have never witnessed the ejection of a dust-cart: presuming he has not, I will endeavour to give him a general outline of the ceremony; together with all the circumstances attending it, and a sketch of the group and foreground. Suppose an eminence of about five or six feet already collected, in a circular form; on the heap is a man raking about, and a little child playing with a small brown shaggy mongrel of a dog, with a community of pigs battening on the acclivity; a youth below, with spade and axe, is supplying three women with stuff--if women they may be called, who, of all the progeny of old Mother Nox, seemed most the resemblances of age, misery, and want; I say _seemed_, for when one was called--one of three--I beheld, as she raised her dilapidated Dunstable, a face, where beams of pensive beauty struggled through dusty darkness, and which mantled to a smile at the sound of notes whistled to the tune of--"In Bunhill-row there liv'd a Maid"--indicating the approach of Joe--for it was _his cart:_--the dying cadence now gave way to the gee-up! uttered in deep bass, accompanied with a smart smack of the whip, to urge the horse up the ascent. Joe was a decent sort of boy enough for his avocation, not to be ranked among those who "troop under the sooty flag of Acheron;" but a clean, square-built fellow, with a broadish face and forehead, blue eyes, nose rather short, expanded, and inclined upwards, and tinted with that imperial hue that indicated his knowledge was not confined to dry measure; this, with a mouth a little elongated, formed a countenance, upon the whole, full of mirth and good-humour. This piece of device was surmounted by a hat of the usual professional form--a domed piece of felt, with a most prodigious margin: he wore a good stout flannel jacket, and waistcoat; his shirt collar fastened by a leaden brooch, in the shape of a heart, deviating from the general costume. His continuations were of white drill; but, mark the vanity! short enough to display a pair of hoppers, otherwise gaiters, of the same material; these, with a stout pair of ancle-Johns, completed his outward man of an order "simply Doric."

At Joe's approach, all was stir and bustle; the pigs, to the third and fourth generation, moved "in perfect phalanx," not "to the Dorian mood of flutes and soft recorders," but to their own equally inspiring grunt; varying from the shrill treble to the deep-toned bass. Jewler, too, ran barking; but with less interested feelings; and his little patron ran to take the whip.

A few interrogatories on each side, a joke, and its accompanying laugh, occupy brief space; when, suddenly, a general rush proclaims the load is strewed upon the ground! a chaotic mass--"old hats, old wigs, old boots, old shoes, and all the tribe of leather," remnants of all things, the ends and the beginnings, horticultural fragments and broken crockery, the hunter's bone and the beggar's rags, pilfered lace suspected, and the stolen jewel, the lost gold, and the mislaid spoon: and, for a climax, rejoice! gentle reader--for when the designs of the crafty are defeated by inadvertence, or otherwise, with the weird sisters, "we should rejoice! we should rejoice!"--a bill for fifteen pounds, drawn by a lawyer for expenses, and which was taken to the acceptor by the dustman, for which he received a considerate remuneration. Complicated as this mass appears, it is all reduced to the most perfect order, and each portion arranged according to the purposes intended for. Thus, the vegetable matter, so eagerly seized upon by the pigs, contributes to keep up a supply of _dairy-fed_ pork and _Epping sausages:_ the bones are laid aside for the purposes of making hartshorn and phosphorus, dominoes, and apple-scoops, &c. The old boots and shoes, with the tribe of leather, after a slight examination of their utter inefficiency, find their way, through divers passages to the glue-pot. How fractured bottles, and broken glass of every description, is disposed of, is easily _seen through_--to the furnace; and how the old iron is appropriated, is not hard to guess. The old woollen, if perchance any should exist in the shape of a pair of innominables, after exploring the pockets, and a sigh for their insolvency, are unceremoniously cast aside along with the worthless remains of rags of every description, string, paper, &c. &c., to pass through the operation necessary for making brown paper. What still remains, of coals, and cinders unconsumed, the dustman's perquisite, are measured first, "thence hurried back to fire:" the wood, the sifters take. Broken tiles, bricks, delf, crockery, with a variety of substances and etceteras, go towards the formation of roads. I had almost forgotten the crowning item, viz. old wigs! Towards the close of the last century, so much were they in request, that the supply was scarcely equal to the demand. Yes, in the days of Beau Tibbs, every street had its corner and every corner its shoe-black, and to every shoe-black might be traced an old wig, sometimes _two_. In those days of ruffles and etiquette, when a well-formed leg was advantageously displayed in _whole_ silk stockings, shoes, and buckles, it was the custom with pedestrians, when making a call, to have their shoes wiped and touched up at the corner of the street nearest the place they were going to visit: and what so efficient for the purpose as an old wig? nothing. But, alas! those days are gone! and Beau Tibbs is gone! and, if we question where? only Echo answers. But what becomes of the old wigs? is the question at issue. Alas! again, such is the degeneracy of modern days, that, instead of being used as an appendage to the toilet, though humble, I fear they will be traced to the vulgar bricklayer and plasterer, to be mingled with mortar, and "patch a wall, to expel the winter's flaw." Now, I believe, every particle is accounted for; and any little article, in the shape of a bijou, is the perquisite of those pickers-up of unconsidered trifles, the sifters.

_Monthly Magazine._

[3] It was a dispute between a dustman and a sifter, as to which had the most rightful claim to a five-pound note, found in the ashes; and certainly nothing could be more impartially decided; for as their claims, or rather their non-claims, turned out to be equal--that is, in point of law--it was retained by the presiding magistrate in trust. In the course of the inquiry, it appeared that the sifter had realized sufficient property to enable her to be proprietress of three houses.

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THE SELECTOR, AND LITERARY NOTICES OF _NEW WORKS._

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NAPOLEON'S DIVORCE.

_Communication of his Intention to Josephine._

I was on duty at the Tuilleries from Monday, November 27; on that day, the Tuesday and Wednesday following, it was easy for me to observe a great alteration in the features of the empress, and a silent constraint in Napoleon. If in the course of dinner he broke the silence, it was to ask me some brief questions, to which he did not hear the reply. On those days the dinner did not last for more than ten minutes. The storm burst on Thursday the 30th.

Their majesties went to table. Josephine wore a large white hat, tied under her chin, and which concealed part of her face. I thought, however, that I perceived she had been weeping, and that she then restrained her tears with difficulty. She appeared to me the image of grief and of despair. The most profound silence reigned throughout the dinner; and they only touched the dishes which were presented to them out of mere form. The only words uttered were those addressed to me by Napoleon: "What o'clock is it?" In pronouncing them, he rose from table. Josephine followed slowly. Coffee was served, and Napoleon took himself the cup which was held by the page on duty, and gave the sign that he wished to be alone. I immediately retired, but restless, and a prey to my sad thoughts, I sat down in the attendance-room, which was commonly used for their majesties to dine in, in an armchair, on the side of which was the door to the emperor's room. I was mechanically watching the servants who were clearing the table, when on a sudden I heard violent cries from the empress Josephine issue from the emperor's chamber. The usher of the chamber, thinking she was taken ill, was on the point of opening the door, when I prevented him, observing, that the emperor would call for assistance if he thought it necessary. I was standing close to the door, when the emperor himself opened it, and perceiving me, said quickly "Come in, Bausset, and shut the door." I entered the chamber, and saw the empress Josephine stretched on the carpet, uttering piercing cries and complaints. "No, I will never survive it," said she. Napoleon said to me, "Are you sufficiently strong to raise Josephine, and to carry her to her apartments by the private staircase, in order that she may receive the care and assistance which she requires?" I obeyed, and raised the princess, who, I thought, was seized with a nervous affection. With the aid of Napoleon, I raised her into my arms, and he himself taking a light from the table, opened the door, which, by an obscure passage, led to the little staircase of which he had spoken. When we reached the first step of the staircase, I observed to Napoleon, that it was too narrow for it to be possible for me to descend without the danger of falling. He forthwith called the keeper of the portfolio, who day and night was in attendance at one of the doors of his closet, the entrance to which was on the landing-place of this little staircase. Napoleon gave him the light, of which we had little need, for the passages had become light. He commanded the keeper to go on before, and took himself the legs of Josephine in order to assist me in descending with less difficulty. At one moment, however, I was embarrassed by my sword, and I thought we must have fallen, but fortunately we descended without any accident, and deposited the precious burden on an ottoman in the sleeping-chamber. Napoleon immediately pulled the little bell, and summoned the empress's women. When I raised the empress in the chamber she ceased to moan, and I thought that she had fainted; but at the time I was embarrassed by my sword in the middle of the little staircase, of which I have already spoken, I was obliged to hold her firmly to prevent a fall which would have been dreadful to the actors in this melancholy scene. I held the empress in my arms, which encircled her waist, her back rested against my chest, and her hand leaned upon my right shoulder. When she felt the efforts which I made to prevent falling, she said to me in a very low tone, "You press me too hard." I then saw that I had nothing to fear for her health, and that she had not for an instant lost her senses. During the whole of this scene I was wholly occupied with Josephine, whose situation afflicted me; I had not power to observe Napoleon; but when the empress's women had come, he retired into a little room which preceded the sleeping-chamber, and I followed him. His agitation, his inquietude were extreme. In the distress which he felt he made me acquainted with the cause of every thing that had happened, and said to me these words:--"The interest of France and of my dynasty does violence to my heart--the divorce has become a rigorous duty to me--I am the more afflicted by what has happened to Josephine, because three days ago she must have learned it from Hortensia--the unhappy obligation which condemns me to separate myself from her--I deplore it with all my heart, but I thought she possessed more strength of character, and I was not prepared for the bursts of her grief." In fact, the emotion which oppressed him, compelled him to make a long pause between each phrase he uttered, in order to breathe. His words came from him with labour and without connexion; his voice was tremulous and oppressed, and tears moistened his eyes. It really seemed as if he were beside himself to give so many details to me, who was so far removed from his councils and his confidence. The whole of this transaction did not occupy more than seven or eight minutes. Napoleon immediately went to seek for Corvisart, queen Hortensia, Cambaceres, and Fouché; and before he returned to his apartment, he assured himself of the condition of Josephine, whom he found more calm and more resigned. I followed him, and after having recovered my hat, which I had thrown on the carpet that my motions might be more free, I retired to the attendance-chamber. To avoid all kinds of commentaries, I said before the pages and the ushers that the empress had been seized with a violent affection of the nerves.

_Private Anecdotes of Foreign Courts._

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THE GATHERER.

"I am but a _Gatherer_ and disposer of other men's stuff."--_Wotton_.

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STORY OF CINDERELLA.

The origin of this nursery tale is sufficiently curious. About the year 1730, a French actor of equal talent and wealth, named Thevenard, in passing through the streets of Paris, observed upon a cobbler's stall, the shoe of a female, which struck him by the remarkable smallness of its size. After admiring it for some time, he returned to his house; but his thoughts reverted to the shoe with such intensity, that he reappeared at the stall the next day; but the cobbler could give him no other clue to the owner, than that it had been left in his absence, for the purpose of being repaired. Day after day did Thevenard return to his post to watch the re-integration of the slipper, which proceeded slowly; nor did the proprietor appear to claim it. Although he had completed the sixtieth year of his age, so extravagant became his passion for the unknown fair one, that he became (were it possible for a Frenchman of that day to be so) melancholy and miserable. His pain was, however, somewhat appeased by the avatar of the little foot itself, appertaining to a pretty and youthful girl in the very humblest class of life. All distinctions were levelled at once by love: the actor sought the parents of the female, procured their consent to the match, and actually made her his wife.

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DIVINE WORSHIP.

When Archbishop Fenelon was Almoner to Louis XIV. his majesty was astonished one Sunday to find, instead of the usual crowded congregation, only himself and his attendants, the priest, and the other officers of the chapel. "What is the meaning of this?" said the king; the prelate answered, "I caused it to be given out, that your majesty did not attend chapel to-day, in order that you might see, who came here to worship God, and who to flatter the king."

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RUSTIC WIT.

A poor man, having disposed of the letters of his name, according to his own fancy, upon his tax-cart, was summoned for the offence, and for turning the act of parliament into ridicule, by having the following letters on his tax-cart:--

A MOST ODD ACT ON A TAX CART.

The poor fellow observed he was no scholar, but his name was Amos Todd, he lived at Acton, and he understood he was obliged to paint the letters, "A Tax-Cart."

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PROMISES.