Chapter C: Clive (5)

The reader who _admires_ adulteration may find enough of it thus noticed in the London Chronicle, June 2, 1764. This article evinces that I am not the first person who has reprobated the London brick-maker. "We have long complained of _alum_ bread, of small beer brewed with _treacle and water_, and porter without _malt or hops_. No one is now ignorant, that half of the best rums and brandies are but _malt spirits_; and that the quantity of port-wine which is drunk in England, by the help of _Alicant_ and _other mixtures_, more than doubly exceeds what is annually imported. And every family at this time is lamenting the unmerciful roguery of forestallers and engrossers, and those who increase the price upon all adulterated commodities, without any feeling for the consumer. But we take not the least notice of a practice that seems more hurtful to the community than any of the above--_the present method of making bricks_.

"If you go to the remains of London Wall, or examine any old brick buildings, you will find it more difficult to pull it down, than it was for the architect to raise it; but let any person attend to the continual accounts given in the papers _of the number of half-built houses that tumble down before they can be finished_, and he will tremble for those who are to inhabit the many piles of new buildings that are daily rising in this metropolis. When we consider the practice among some of the brick-makers about the town, we shall not wonder at this consequence, though we must shudder at the evil. The increase of buildings has increased the demand, and consequently the price of bricks. The demand for bricks has raised the price of brick-earth so greatly, that the makers are tempted to mix _the slop of the streets_, _ashes_, _scavengers dirt_, and every thing that will make the brick-earth or clay go as far as possible. It is said the price of this brick-earth is more than doubled within these two or three years. The Scavenger, unwilling to be behind with the Landholder, has doubled the price of ashes, trebled the price of cinders, and charges a considerable price for the filth, mud, and what they call the slop of the streets. This slop makes near one half of the composition that is to raise the enormous and very numerous buildings which are to unite London with Highgate, Bromley, Rumford, and Brentford, within these five years; unless, what seems very possible, the bricklayers, carpenters, and masons, with all their labourers and workmen, are overwhelmed in the ruins of their own buildings before the plan is finished. The Legislature has provided for our safety against the roguery of the Builders; but, unless the materials of which the bricks are made shall be taken into consideration, London may shortly resemble the City of Lisbon, without the intervention of an Earthquake."

When the Corporation of London had determined in 1766 to remove many of the inconveniences and obstructions then common in the City of London, it appeared in evidence that the Streets were generally badly paved, very dirty, and not sufficiently lighted; and that the Signs prevented a free circulation of the air and view of the Streets, while the Posts contributed to impede the passenger. Nor were the Penthouses less injurious; those, loaded with flower-pots, often occasioned dangerous hurts by the fall of the latter; and the watering of the plants in them contributed, with the projecting spouts, in rainy weather, to sluice the Citizen, who at the same time steered his undulating or zig-zag way through wheelbarrows and bawling owners. Another comfort peculiar to this period was the ambition of Shop-keepers, who encroached upon the footways by bow-windows. When an example was set, the whole fraternity, fired with emulation, thrust each new one beyond his neighbour. Such were the impediments to walking so recently as 1766! The reader may imagine how a Londoner must have felt during a high wind and shower; a thousand signs swinging on rusty hinges above him, threatening ruin to his person at every step, and a thousand spouts pouring cascades at his luckless head.

The extravagant use of Signs had been complained of early in the century, when they were described as very large, very fine with gilding and carving, and very absurd. _Golden_ perriwigs, saws, axes, razors, trees, lancets, knives, salmon, cheese, blacks' heads with gilt hair, half-moons, sugar-loaves, and Westphalia hams, were repeated without mercy from the Borough to Clerkenwell, and from Whitechapel to the Haymarket; but a person who knew what they were much better than myself thus described them under the signature of A. B. in one of the newspapers of 1764: "In the beginning of the reign of Louis XIV. the inhabitants of the City of Paris were ever complaining how sick the City was, and how fast they died: upon which, Louis consulted the Medical people what could be the cause of it: and they all agreed, that it was owing to the largeness of the Signs, which choaked up the free circulating air, which ever administers to health; upon which an edict was published, that no Sign should be more than 18 inches by 12, and all the iron perhaps may weigh four or five pounds; and I do suppose that some of the Sign-irons in London weigh four or five hundred, and some a great deal more. Soon after this edict was published, it was declared by the inhabitants, that they found a sensible difference in their healths. The general run of their streets are a little wider than Paternoster-row; a few much wider, and a great many not so wide.

"Now, when the wind blows hard upon a very broad Sign, with a great weight of Iron on the front of the house, I often wonder, that the fronts do not fall oftener than they do. In the year 1718, the front of a house, opposite Bride-lane in Fleet-street, fell down, and killed two young ladies, a cobler, and the King's Jeweller. This you may depend upon as a truth; many others were maimed, and a few more were killed, I cannot say how many: this was done by the wind blowing hard against the large Sign and Iron. These gorgeous Signs are to draw in customers; but, if they were all upon a footing, and our signs and callings were wrote as they are in the Strand, would not every body be the better for it, and a great deal of money be saved into the bargain? First, they would save their money; secondly, render the City more healthy; and thirdly, prevent people's brains being knocked out," &c. &c.

The suggestions of this and other good citizens were at length attended to; and the Court of Common Council appointed a Committee, in the same year, to consider of some method by which they might accomplish the removal of Signs and Water-spouts, and cause the former to be affixed to the fronts of houses flat against the wall, and the latter to be so contrived as to discharge their contents without annoying passengers. The gentlemen commissioned for the above purpose were directed besides to arrange a plan for inscribing the names of streets, lanes, and alleys, on their corners.

Soon after the above appointment, the Newspaper-writers frequently noticed the alteration of Signs; and the inhabitants of Shug-lane appear to have led the way in putting the Act of Parliament in execution, sanctioning the general improvement of London and Westminster. In addition to the names of streets placed on the corners, the Nobility then introduced brass plates or door-plates with their names engraved on them; and the numbering of the houses completed this portion of the great work of amendment.

The streets of London were extremely inconvenient before this period, as the kennels were in the midst, and the stones of the pavements round; nor was there, as at present, a smooth footway for the pedestrian. A meeting of the Commissioners for the re-paving of London was held in June 1766, when Aberdeen granite was adopted, and Charles Whitworth, Esq. contracted for the performance; but the Commissioners for paving the squares, streets, and lanes of Westminster, had issued the following intimation in March 1763:

"Notice is hereby given, that they intend new paving
Parliament-street, Charing Cross, Cockspur-street, and
Pall Mall; for which purpose the following Proposals are
advertised, _viz._

"1st, For furnishing Edinburgh stones, or stones of the like
quality, for the carriage-way of the said streets, at the
Quarry, according to the dimensions following, _viz._ of four
and five inches thick (and a few of six for the kennels), and
not less than nine inches deep, and for delivering the same
at the places where they may be most conveniently shipped.

2dly, For freight and delivery at such wharf or wharfs, near
Westminster-bridge, as the Commissioners shall direct.

3dly, For carriage from the said wharf or wharfs to the said
streets, or any of them, as the Surveyor shall direct.

4thly, For paving of the carriage-way of the said streets
with the said stones, supplying the best Thames sand,
labourers, and all incidental charges (except only removing
the old pavement, and leveling the ground), according to such
dimensions as shall be set out by the Surveyor, and under
such inspection of the Surveyor as is directed by the Act of
Parliament.

5thly, For paving the footways of the said streets with the
best Purbeck pavement, and a curb of Purbeck or Moor stone
twelve inches broad, and seven inches thick, leveling the
ground, finding all materials and workmanship, according to
such levels and such dimensions as shall be directed and
appointed by the Surveyor, and under his inspection, as the
said Act directs; as likewise for re-laying such part of the
old footways as shall be directed by the Surveyor.

6thly, Persons willing to contract may make their Proposals
for the whole, or any part, of the said works; and for
keeping the same in repair for the term of ten years; the
said works being to be completed within one year from the 3d
of May next.

Note, The number of square yards of the carriage-way is about
20,000; and the quantity of stones to be contracted for will
be 7000 tons, to be delivered in London, within the space
of one year from the 3d of May 1763 to the 3d of May 1764,
according to the following proportions, _viz._ 600 tons in
the month of May, 800 tons in each of the months of June,
July, August, and September, 500 in October, 400 in each of
the months of November, December, and January, and 500 tons
in each of the months of February, March, and April.

Proposals in writing, sealed up, to be delivered in at
Westminster-bridge office, Old Palace-yard, Westminster, on
or before Tuesday the 12th of April next.

By order of the Commissioners,

GEORGE BOX, _Clerk_."

As St. James's-street now is, nothing can be more convenient than the gradual declination from Piccadilly to the Palace. That the houses on each side of the way have been almost entirely rebuilt since the year 1765, will pretty plainly appear from the ensuing lively paper, inserted in the London Chronicle August 15, 1765:

"We have read a great deal in your paper about Liberty, Mr. Printer; give me leave to say a word or two about Property, which, talk as they please, the greatest part of mankind reckon the most valuable of the two. Our sensible forefathers, in framing the Streets of this great City, preferred utility to ornament; and, in St. James's-street, they were very industrious, that the paving of that uneven ground should not prejudice the property of any individual.--Their wiser sons have wished to reverse this practice, and have been full as industrious in conforming the buildings to the Scotch paving. The descent from the upper to the lower end of this street being so very steep, has brought very whimsical distresses upon many of the inhabitants--some of the ground-floors, that were almost level with the street, are now eight, nine, and some ten steps, and those very steep, from the ground; while others, to which you used to ascend by three or four steps, are now as many below the surface. Cellars are now above ground, and some gentlemen are forced to dive into their own parlours. Many laughable accidents too have happened from this new method of turning the world upside-down: some persons, not thinking of the late alterations, attempting to knock at their own door, have frequently tumbled up their new-erected steps, while others, who have been used to ascend to their threshold, have as often, for the same reason, tumbled down; and their fall had been the greater, from their lifting up their legs to ascend as usual. An old gouty friend of mine complains heavily; he has lain, he says, upon the ground-floor for these ten years, and he chose the house he lives in because there was no step to the door; and now he is obliged to mount at least nine, before he can get into his bedchamber, and the entrance into his house is at the one pair of stairs. A neighbour too complains he has lost a good lodger, because he refused to lower the price of his first floor, which the gentleman insisted he ought, as the lodgings are now up two pair of stairs. Many of the street doors are not above five feet high; and the owners, when they enter their houses, seem as if they were going into a dog-kennel rather than their own habitations. To say the truth, no fault can be imputed to the trustees: but many are great sufferers; and this method of making the houses conform to the ornamental paving, is something like the practice of Procrustes, the robber, who made a bed of certain dimensions, and whoever was put into it, had his legs cut shorter if they were too long, or stretched out if they were too short, till the poor wretch was precisely of the length with the bed.

"I am, Sir, yours, &c.

"ANTI-PROCRUSTES."

The exertions of our fathers in the general improvement of houses and streets have left _us_ little to do. Pure air, so essential to the preservation of life, now circulates freely through the _new_ streets; squares, calculated for ornament, health, and the higher ranks of the community, are judiciously dispersed, and their centres converted into beautiful gardens; the tall houses have a sufficient number of large windows; the areas in front are wide, and handsomely railed with cast iron; lamps on scrollwork are suspended at due distances from each other; and admirable level smooth footways of great breadth protect the passenger from the carts and carriages, separated from him by a curb stone raised several inches above spacious kennels, through which the water from showers passes and descends into large drains, communicating with vast sewers many feet below the level of the street.

There are salutary laws providing for the performance of those acts of cleanliness which individuals might neglect or omit. The inmates of every house will of course cleanse the steps leading to it; but they will not _universally_ remove the soil from their pavements. The law commands them to do so _every_ morning under a penalty of 5_s._; and yet there are very few who walk the narrow streets of London in winter can forget the retrograde motion of their feet on the deep mud when the pavements are--_greasy_. Sir William Curtis, when Lord Mayor, recently determined to enforce the law--and very honourably _fined himself_.

Scavengers are appointed to sweep the carriage-ways, and carry off the dirt; and yet there are places to be found where brooms have not always done their duty. The publick are very properly forbid to throw any kind of dust into the streets, and are ordered to reserve it for the Dustman, who is enjoined to call for it frequently; and yet I was once informed by a housekeeper that their Parish Dustman had not honoured them with a visit _for six long weeks_. The renters of single rooms, in first, second, and third floors, in mean streets, feel themselves _above_ restraint. Those people empty dirty water mixed with their offals into the gutters, the stench of which is appalling; but I forget, they certainly do not offend against the law--it is _dust_, not _water dirtied_, or mixed with dust and vegetables, which they are forbidden to deposit in the streets.

Let me not neglect in this survey the laudable efforts of the Sweepers male and female, who, stationed at corners and crossings, faithfully remove every appearance of soil from the stones for the casual receipt of half-pence. They are undoubtedly an useful body, and they have my commendations accordingly.

Beer-houses, or, as they are generally termed, Public Houses, render our streets extremely unpleasant in summer; but delicacy forbids my adding more on the subject. Would that equal delicacy in the keepers would _turn their customers backwards_!

So much for the Streets. Repairing-leases contribute greatly to the handsome appearance of the Houses; every thing is in order; and the clause for painting the fronts triennally keeps the woodwork as clean and bright as our fogs and the coal smoke will permit. The shop-keeper prides himself on the neatness of his shop-front; his little portico, and the pilasters and cornices, are imitations of Lydian, serpentine, porphyry, and verde antique marbles; and those who have the good fortune to serve any branch of the Royal Family immediately place large sculptures of their several arms and supporters over their doors, and their own names and business in golden characters. The great windows of large panes exhibit the richest manufactures, and the doors of the Linen drapers are closed by draperies of new muslins and calicoes. Some wags pretend indeed that the tradesman has a double motive in this proceeding--the darkening of his premises to prevent keen eyes from discovering coarse threads, and embellishing his shop.

The Goldsmiths and Jewellers, and some Pawnbrokers, indulge the publick with the view of diamonds, pearls, rubies, emeralds, gold, and silver, in most fascinating quantities; but the Watch-makers and Glassmen eclipse all competitors in the display of fanciful clocks set in alabastor, or _molu_, gold and silver, and the richest cut glass lighted by patent lamps at night. The Bookseller exposes copies of the most expensive works in his windows, and the Printsellers those of the best artists. The Undertaker covers his panes with escutcheons, crowns, coronets, and mitres of gold; and contrives to introduce the lid of a little velvet coffin, which is intended to lead the eye to full-sized real ones preparing for the dead.

The Lottery-office-keeper attracts a crowd by numbers of tickets and shares disposed for sale, and always places a paper _memento_ at the elbow, of "No. &c. &c. sold at this office in the last lottery, drawn a prize of 30,000_l._" Hence the Lucky Office and _Only_ Lucky Office[403:A].

The retailer of Quack Medicines covers every pane of his shop-windows with the bills of different compounders of nostrums, and the angles between the paper and the sashes with transparent vivid colours; and the Proprietors of Newspapers seize upon every battle or capture as fair opportunities for pasting large pieces of paper together, which they inscribe "Sixth edition," &c. &c. and suspend from the top to the bottom of their casements; while their myrmidons the Newsmen reiterate the "Sixth edition" with distended lungs in the short intervals between the--I had almost said--infernal blasts of their tin trumpets. Let the purchaser, however, beware the Newsman doth not give him a paper or gazette--three weeks old--_in the hurry of the moment_!

Such are the methods adopted by the London Tradesmen to attract attention, and such the appearance of the lower part of their Houses: indeed, Commodities are now generally used in place of the antient Signs. One of their _absurdities_ deserves reprehension: when a man has a front door between two windows, or a door on the right side of a window, he will have his name over the door, and his business on the friezes of the windows; for instance,

Window Door Window
--+---------------+-------+---------------+--
| GOLDSMITH AND | BROWN | JEWELLER, &c. |
+---------------+-------+---------------+

instead of "Brown, goldsmith and jeweller." The nonsense produced in this way is sometimes incredibly ludicrous. I once observed the words "Preston, Nightman, and Rubbish carted," so placed that they conveyed an idea of a partnership "Preston and _Rubbish_."

The noble fronts of the several Banking-houses and Insurance offices, many of the latter with fine emblematic statues over the doors, are great ornaments to the streets of London.

The interior architecture of our dwellings is generally very convenient; but I could wish that the kitchens might henceforward be erected behind the house, that no human being should be immersed in damp, and blinded with darkness, as our servants now are, seven or eight feet below the surface of the street.

It will be perceived that every thing under this article has now been noticed which is independent of the information already given in "Londinium Redivivum." I shall, therefore, conclude it with referring the reader to the annexed Prints, where he will find sketches of various parts of London which I have considered as the most picturesque, the whole contributing to illustrate the _general character_ of the Metropolis.

FOOTNOTES:

[359:A] Mungo Park confirms this supposition by his description of the mud walls and thatched roofs of the Savages in Africa, where civilization has not yet made its appearance.

[364:A] See specimens of brick-work in the annexed prints, of Croydon palace, and a curious gateway, dated 1599, near Bromley, Kent.

[366:A] The _Minced pie_ House is at Greenwich, and was built by Vanbrugh. The ludicrous title is a witticism upon the architecture.--It is an unfortunate circumstance that the two old houses in Goswell-street are just rebuilt; and the view of Privy-garden is _now_ incorrect, through alterations made since the Plate was engraved.

[403:A] The expensive and absurd methods lately adopted by Lottery-office keepers and many other tradesmen to invite customers are too contemptible for serious notice.

CHAP. X.

SKETCH OF THE PRESENT STATE OF SOCIETY IN LONDON.

When a Londoner of the lowest class receives his employer's permission to relax from the labours of his profession, he endeavours to obtain the company of several of his acquaintance. Observe them assembled, and mark their _costume_: they wear a round hat, like those of Men of fashion, placed far back on the head, covering a collection of long lank hair, which shades the features composed of vacancy and impudence; the neck is clothed in a coarse muslin cravat folded in ungraceful lines over a monstrous stiffener, which, defying compression, leaves a great opening between the _poma Adami_ and it, from which the chin emerges and retires forty times in an hour. The coat is generally of dark blue or brown lapelled, the waistcoat of white or printed cotton, and the legs are covered either by pantaloons or breeches and white cotton stockings. Their progress through the streets is marked by impetuosity and a constant exertion of strength, making the peaceable Citizen with his wife and children retire to the entrance of a house, or cross the kennel, in order to avoid being hurried forward with them, or overturned. Their conversation consists of violent disputes and execrations, often degenerating into whimsical effusions of retort, peculiar to this branch of the great human tree, accompanied by occasional observations on the Females who unfortunately pass them. I must acknowledge myself more than once to have been surprised into risibility by this species of wit, for which the speaker deserved a horse-whip. The constant exercise of obscenity and gross allusion prevails when a neighbour's female servant, or a sister of one of the party, is present. We will not follow them across the Fields, but meet them seated at one of those inviting scenes which may be found on every side of London called Tea-gardens, where Tea indeed seldom makes its appearance. A few miserable bushes tortured into arbours veil in some degree the hateful exhibitions at these places, the licensed receptacles for mental degradation, receptacles for young men and young women, who are seated on benches before tables covered with _liquor and tobacco-pipes_! What can be expected from these assemblages but the inevitable consequences, drunkenness and debauchery? Their effects are observable whenever any public occurrence assembles the people of London; the whole Civil Power of which cannot restrain many enormities committed on those occasions. Under an idea of whim and pleasantry they perpetrate many scandalous actions, amusing themselves by throwing some filthy thing into the thickest part of a crowd, or driving forward till they half suffocate those before them, or hurt others by severe falls. Whenever an illumination takes place, their turbulence becomes seriously mischievous by the firing of pistols and throwing of squibs and crackers; but the latter practices, I hope, are now entirely subdued by the Magistracy.

This class is fond of Theatrical amusements; and numbers may be observed waiting on an evening before the doors of the Theatres impatient and crowding for admission. The Pickpocket is always ready; but his operations are often frustrated by the Peace-officer's constant exclamation of "Take care of your pockets." When the door is opened, a dangerous trial of skill ensues: every person endeavours to enter first; the space is clogged; and pushing, screams, and execrations follow. If we enter the One-shilling Gallery, we witness constant disputes often terminating in blows, and observe heated bodies stripped of the outward garments, furious faces, with others grinning horribly, hear loud and incessant talking and laughter, beating the floor with sticks, hissing, clapping the hands, and the piercing whistle, with exclamations for "Musick."

This motley collection are, however, generally attentive spectators and patient auditors during the representations; and I have remarked that any generous sentiment from the characters on the stage never fails to receive the loudest tokens of applause from the One-shilling Gallery; but this Gallery becomes a very troublesome appendage to the Theatre, when their highnesses divide into two parties, one for, and the other against the repetition of a pleasing song. This is particularly felt in the performance of a favourite Opera or Musical Farce.

The next stage is that of Journeymen; thousands of whom have been steady well-behaved youths, in the practice of passing their evenings and holidays in rational pursuits with parents or friends, and who enter upon their profession determined to render themselves respectable, and their connexions happy. With such I have nothing to do; there is too much still-life for description in the man who rises at six in the morning, and works without cessation till six in the evening. His intervals of amusement may be directed to the same objects, Tea-gardens, public Exhibitions, and the Theatres; but his conduct is so properly governed, that Temperance and Pleasure dance in his features.

Those whose characteristic outline I have traced before work, perhaps, three days in the week. Sunday they appropriate to the same species of relaxation to which they accustomed themselves in apprenticeship: Monday is sainted with them. And who will work on _Saint Monday_? Not the idle Journeyman and Labourer of London. Unfortunately the votaries of this Saint celebrate his name with libations of Beer and Gin, the fumes of which render them unfit for work on Tuesday. On Wednesday they begin the week; not by a close attention to their business, as their employers find to the extent of vexation and disappointment, but by repeated potations of beer, which a boy brings at stated hours all through the day; by retiring at twelve o'clock to dinner, and frequently returning at four, and going again to _tea_ at four, if they should _accidentally_ get to work at one. The excessive use of the former soporific beverage renders the Journeyman stupid, fretful, and quarrelsome, which any person may perceive by passing a public house at almost any period of the day. At the close of the week necessity compels this description of madmen to work; for, Saturday arriving, he must procure the means of redeeming his own and his wife's clothes from that _most respectable member of society_ the Pawnbroker. And this is the labouring life of at least thirty thousand persons at present in London!

Their domestic _amusements_ chiefly consist in disputes with a Wife, who finds herself and children sacrificed to the brutal propensities of Drinking and Idleness; and the scene of contention is intolerable, if the lady possesses a high spirit; so entirely so to the husband, that he fixes himself for the evening with a party at the public house, where he is at first entertained, and entertains in turn, on the thriving subject of Politicks, culled from the delightful themes of so many thousands massacred in one place, and as many in another. As the night advances, the Journeyman becomes whimsical; one of the company is requested to sing, the rest join in chorus; and another hour elapses in a chaos of sounds equally insulting to the general quiet of the publick and the neighbourhood. By this time the Wife peeps through the windows, hoping to find a favourable opportunity of getting the sot to bed; which if she accomplishes without a kicking, she may be pronounced a lucky woman for that evening. A sober inhabitant of London cannot but be shocked at the staggering fellow-citizens he meets with late on a summer evening, labouring under a voluntary St. Vitus's dance, when returning to their homes. I saw a man of this description in Russel-square, who had placed his hat on the pavement, and danced round it. To this ludicrous exhibition all eyes were directed. "Ah!" said an old female to another, "that man would never drink again could he see himself with our sensations."

There are thirty-six public-houses in Old-street between Goswell-street and the City-road. Can they be supported by the population of that neighbourhood without endless excesses? And there are other districts where those curses to society are equally numerous? Shame on our thoughtless conduct in permitting a trade calculated only for human destruction! If comfort, health, and pleasure can arise from quaffing gallons of beer, let the lower classes be compelled to drink it at home with their friends and families; and no longer suffer that promiscuous mixture of folly and vice which results from thieves drinking with honest men. It is from this cause alone that men are brutalized. Difference of opinion will arise between members of the most polished classes: those become quarrels in the lower; and hence the petty actions for assaults which are tried in every direction. Examine the Old Bailey causes; and if Public-houses and Dram-shops are not found to be the general theatres of thieving plots and murders, let me receive no farther credit.

London and the environs are overwhelmed with population. Every description of the inhabitants of the Country watch for favourable opportunities of removing to this enormous magnet; or, if that cannot be accomplished, they send their offspring of both sexes. Hundreds of servant girls and apprentices are thus prepared annually for prostitution and thoughtless marriages; every room in numbers of streets becomes the residence of Apprentices, Journeymen, their wives, and multitudes of children, who starve away existence year after year in hopeless sameness, and are often separated from Vice only by a deal or lath and plaster partition. The consequences of this crowded state of the City are so well known, that it is hardly necessary to point them out. I shall however venture to direct the Reader's attention to the Alms-houses, Work-houses, Charity Schools, Hospitals, and Prisons, which surround us; and ask whence they are filled? Who turns his attention to the second-floors, the garrets, the back-rooms, and the cellars of this Metropolis? It would be wrong to say no one; but who relates the result of his research? It may be imagined Hogarth has given us a true picture in his Distressed Poet: that print may serve as a foundation; a few additions of the _sombre_ cast would furnish thousands of real scenes.

The next class of crowded residents are persons with small incomes, who are compelled by great rents and heavy taxes to occupy furnished and unfurnished first and second floors. Those are generally healthy, and comfortably situated; but their eternal removals indicate that discontent and altercation exist but too frequently between the landlord's family and the lodger. Kitchens used in common by both parties are sources of discord; the cleansing of stairs ascended by all the inhabitants of the house is another; and the late hours of the latter a third. It is therefore common to see the streets almost obstructed every quarter-day with cart-loads of furniture.

The usual time of rising with the class of Journeymen is between five and six in the morning. At the latter hour they commence their daily labour, and work till eight; an hour is then allowed for breakfast, and from twelve till one for dinner; and the business of the day concludes at six; but some industrious men work many extra hours. Public-houses are opened in sufficient time to furnish those who choose it with pernicious liquids; and the keepers will either send tea and bread and butter to the Journeymen for breakfast, or provide it for him at the house. This innocent meal is most commonly preferred; but I am sorry to say numbers never drink any thing so weak. The Journeyman and Labourer sometimes eat bread and cheese, or salted meat and bread, on the spot where they work; others return to their homes to dine; and others eat at the Cook's-shop, at which they may have what quantity they please of baked and boiled meat, and flour and pease-puddings, at a very reasonable rate. Tea, and bread and cheese or meat, conclude the meals of the day. Large potations of beer, allowed by the employer in some instances, and clubbed for in others, fill the intervals of labour. When two labouring men meet accidentally in the streets, the second word after the usual salutation is _What will you drink?_ or, _Let us have a glass, or a pint_; and it frequently happens that neither can muster halfpence sufficient.

A Gin-shop may generally be _scented_ as the passenger approaches; but he cannot mistake it, as an assembly of the drivers of asses with soot, brick dust, cats'-meat, and vegetables, with a due proportion of _low_ ladies of pleasure, always besiege the door. Thanks to the Distiller and Brewer, liquor is much less powerful in its operations at present than it was fifty years past: hence the improvement in the conduct of the votaries of Geneva. Those people very seldom exceed low wit, a little noise, and abuse of each other: indeed, our streets are wonderfully quiet, and riots and quarrels are very rare.

The Tradesman and his Lodgers generally rise about the same hour, from six to nine o'clock, and often from the same description of _turned-up_ bedsteads, and beds inclosed in resemblances of chests of drawers and book-cases. These unwholesome contrivances originate from the necessity of accommodating many persons in a space calculated for very few: they are to be found in most lodging-houses; but four-post bedsteads and elegant curtains are constantly provided in _furnished_ lodgings.

Tea, coffee, cocoa, rolls, toast, and bread and butter, form the breakfasts of this class of the community; and the hours of dining vary from one till half past four. Plain joints baked, roasted, and boiled, and potatoes, and other vegetables, are standing dishes; some exceed in fish, fowls, rabbits, &c. &c.; and many make their meals from veal-cutlets, beef-steaks, and pork and mutton chops, with potatoes, and very little bread. Fruit-pies and puddings are much used; table-beer, ale, and porter, are the most common beverage. Ardent spirits and hot water mixed too often follow; but wine seldom appears. Invitations of friends on Sundays and holidays produce many luxuries distributed by neat servant-maids.

Tea, &c. succeeds from five to six o'clock, and a slight supper at nine. The evening is variously spent, in Visits, at the Playhouse, or with the eternal use of Cards. Conversation and Reading are greatly neglected; consequently numbers of this class speak very incorrectly.

The opulent Tradesman, he that has retired from business, and the Merchant, live much in the above manner in many respects; but, as the family never do any thing themselves, a Cook, a House-maid, a Nursery-maid, and a Foot-_boy_ or Foot-_man_, become necessary; to which may be added in many cases a second establishment for a Country-house, a Groom, and even a Coachman; but the latter is frequently hired by the year, and then the Coachman is not always a domestick.

The man of business and the Merchant generally sleep in the _country_, or if you please--_near London_, and come to town after breakfast. The family may either breakfast with him, or the ladies may indulge at their pleasure. Shopping in Hackney or other coaches in the morning, Visits, Musick, or Reading, occupy the space from breakfast at nine, ten, and eleven, till four, five, or six o'clock, the various hours for dining of the latter, when several friends are probably assembled to partake of a variety of viands of the best quality, followed by a handsome dessert and excellent wines.

The hour of relaxation is now arrived; the cares of the world and business are dismissed; little more is said besides observations on the goodness of the provision, &c. and "Shall I help you to this or that?" Shall I add that too great repletion in this class often produces apoplexy? Several hours elapse in drinking wine; and Bacchus almost always usurps the place of the Ladies, who retire to cards till the Gentlemen are summoned to tea, sometimes not in a state to enjoy rational conversation. Supper ensues, and the bottle finishes the scene at a late hour.

The reader must recollect that, when a family is without visitors, it is governed by greater regularity. Many Merchants and rich Tradesmen pass much of their leisure time at coffee-houses; and dinners are commonly given at those places. Reading the papers and conversation are strong inducements, exclusive of the bargains and consultations between strangers conveniently made and held at these places.

The Ladies of the class now under notice have almost universally been educated at boarding-schools, and possess a general knowledge of the usages of fashionable life. Drawing, Musick, Dancing, Fancy-works, the French language, &c. are alternately employed, with Vauxhall, the Winter and Summer Theatres, walking in the Park at a particular season of the year, Cards, &c. &c. to kill time--and a little trip to a Watering-place is delightful beyond measure, where, it is necessary to observe, _every body_ goes, from the Oilman's lady to the Princess, either in the Hoys, the Stage-coaches, Post-chaises, Glass-coaches, or their own coaches. Novels, those fruitful sources of amusement, are welcome besides to all descriptions of _Citizenesses_ and _some_ Citizens.

Libraries are to be found in the houses of many rich Traders and Tradesmen; and there have been instances of most valuable works issuing from their studies. _Circulating_ Libraries are of infinite use to the avaricious, and those of moderate incomes, and are very numerous; they produce a taste for reading, which cannot be excited in any other way, and should be encouraged by the Legislature under proper regulations. Many persons have associated, and composed Book Societies: the annual subscription of each individual is small; but the aggregate sum thus obtained enables the members to nominate expensive works, which are read in rotation; and, as it is a rule to sell the least approved of, the stock is farther maintained. The above means, and the additions to vast libraries both public and private continually making, has encouraged Literature to a most honourable extent in London, where numerous Authors are constantly employed in composing books of every possible description, which, richly embellished with engravings, generally sell rapidly.

The next and last class consists of persons of antient families possessed of large incomes, and the Nobility. Their manner of passing the day may soon be described. Early rising is neither _necessary_, nor is it _universally_ practised. Breakfast often makes its appearance at the Tradesman's hour of dining; though in some well-regulated families there is far more rationality. Novels, Newspapers, Magazines, Reviews, and little articles contrived to attract the fancy, are spread abroad in the breakfast-room, and afford amusement and conversation, while the languid operation of eating is performing. Suppose the Gentlemen of the family set forward on their morning equestrian ride; the Ladies read, work with their needle, or play on the Piano; nay, little childish games sometimes engage their attention till the hour for Visiting and Shopping arrives. Then the streets resound with the hoofs of fiery steeds, and thunder from the hands of the footman announces on the door of a friend ---- a card containing the visitors name; but there are instances, I believe, on record of Ladies alighting.

The hours of five, six, and seven o'clock reassemble the family to dinner, for which the party dresses in the most elegant manner, and frequently partake with their friends around them of the richest _made_ dishes, joints of meat, fish, poultry, confectionary, &c. &c. served in two or three courses by a butler, and footmen stationed behind each chair of the company present. Tea and coffee generally make their appearance before the wine and fruit are removed; but there are some who retire to the drawing-room for the use of those refreshments. The supper hour cannot be named with precision; it may be introduced from ten o'clock till two in the morning.

The amusements of the Rich and Noble consist of every possible enjoyment: birth-days, levees, breakfasts at _private_ houses attended by two or three hundred persons at three or four o'clock in the afternoon, dinners, card-parties, suppers, and _routs_. The reader _not yet born_ will, perhaps, thank my memory for adding that which may then be forgotten.

A fashionable and opulent inhabitant of Westminster often occupies a house calculated for the reception _conveniently_ of the Master, the Mistress, two or three Children, a Nursery-maid, a Groom, a Coachman, a Butler, three Footmen, a Cook, and two or three House-maids, governed by a House-keeper; and we will finish the groupe by a Governess _who speaks French_. So far all is right; now, future Reader, comes the essence of my information. See this house confined to an ichnography of twenty-five feet by forty prepared for a _rout_: the floor is painted in graceful figures and flowers with coloured chalks for dancing; girandoles and lustres of splendid cut glass with numerous wax-candles lighted exhibit the lady in her jewels ready to receive her guests equally resplendent. Ay, but the number--what say you to an _hundred, two hundred_? There is pleasure, there amusement, and the inexpressible delight of languor, even fainting through exertion, heat, and suffocation! The company endeavour to compress themselves for obtaining a space to dance in, and afterwards they crowd to the supper-table sparkling with polished plate, and loaded with every delicacy; there the _amusements_ of Tantalus are renewed. Can we wonder that Aurora often lights our fashionables home, when we reflect on these fascinating inducements to keep late hours? But those to whom Fortune has been more propitious, in presenting them with vast mansions, have entertained as many as eight hundred persons through the night in a far less crowded state. Other amusements of the great consist in riding through Hyde-park; the Ladies in their coaches, and the Gentlemen on horseback in an adjoining road. He that would judge of the population of London should attend in the Park on any Sunday at three o'clock, from February till May: he must be astonished at the sight. The coaches, the horses, the populace of every rank who toil against the bleak East winds, are wonderfully numerous. Nor should he omit a visit to Kensington-gardens in May, to view the beautiful pedestrians that form our fashionable world; or a winter excursion to the Serpentine-river and the Canal in St. James's-park, where numbers skait, or attempt to skait.

It would be useless to more than mention the additional pursuits of the Rich, who visit the annual exhibitions of Paintings and other attractive objects with eagerness, the Playhouse, Vauxhall, &c. &c.; but, alas! London becomes a mere blank after the 4th of June. _Nobody_ remains in _Town_; it is too hot, too suffocating! _Every body_ therefore retires to their seats, _if they have them_; and _the rest_ fly to _Margate_, _Ramsgate_, and _Brighton_, those _capacious_ receptacles.

Such are the follies of many: but, thanks to Heaven! there are numbers of our Nobility and Gentry who live and act for the general benefit of mankind.--And now,

VALE, LONDINIUM!

INDEX.

A.

Abel, Mr. concert by, ii. 123.

Accession of George III. celebrated, i. 339.

Accident, dreadful, at Covent Garden Theatre, ii. 190.

---- fatal, in Westminster, i. 253.

Actors, scale of merit of various, ii. 254.

Advertisement by Lord Vane, i. 431.

Ætna, mount, eruption of, represented, ii. 275.

Allen, W. jun. shot, ii. 74.

---- description of his tomb, ii. 81.

---- W. sen. his petition to the King, ii. 82.

Almanac John, and his sigils, i. 97.

Ambassador, riot at the house of the Morocco, ii. 66.

Anne, Queen, communication of, to the Lord Mayor, ii. 13.

Apollo Gardens, account of, i. 332.

Apprentices, turbulence of, ii. 88.

Archers, entertainment for, i. 302.

Architecture, domestic, notices of, ii. 358.

Ass race, account of one, ii. 194.

Asylum, the, account of, i. 48.

Atalanta, acted on the marriage of the Prince of Wales, ii. 191.

Attalo, opera of, account of, ii. 220.

Austin, J. account of his enormous pudding, i. 404.

B.

Bancroft's Hospital, i. 47.

Barker, gladiator, fights Stokes, ii. 170.

Barley-corn, Sir John, burnt, i. 314.

Battles at Covent garden Theatre, ii. 202.

Beadles, number and salaries of, i. 165.

Beard, Mr. his address to the public, ii 238.

Bear-garden, amusements of the, described, ii. 109, 134, 137, 147,
155, 164, 170.

---- attempt to suppress, ii. 111, 163.

Beau of 1734, described, i. 301.

---- 1727, ii. 324.

---- portrait of, in verse, i. 319.

Bed, one described, ii. 320.

Beer given to the mob by the Prince of Wales, i. 314.

Beggars, trick of R. Alegil, i. 98.

---- tricks of, i. 99, 287.

Benefit, Farinelli's, ii. 188.

Benefits, theatrical, confusion at, ii. 226.

Betting, specimens of, i. 373.

Billiard tables, burnt, i. 173.

Bills, seditious, explosion of, ii. 51.

Boxing, patronised by the rich, i. 335.

Bread, adulteration of, bad effects of, i. 174.

Bricks, first used, ii. 362.

---- badly made, ii. 390.

Bristol, Bishop of, letter to his parishioners, i. 362.

Buck, gladiator, fights Miller, ii. 135.

Buckingham, Duchess of, adopts an infant, i. 43.

Bucks, bold, account of a club so named, i. 264.

Burges, Dr. burnt in effigy, i. 242.

---- ---- meeting burnt, ii. 12.

Butchers, battles between, ii. 28.

Butterfield, Lady, advertisement by, ii. 144.