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CHAPTER XXIV
Murder by Tawell – Curious story – King William IV.’s Statue – Visits by the Queen – Testimonial to Rowland Hill – Breaking the Portland Vase – Sad end of William Austin – Sale of Van Amburgh’s stud – Hungerford Suspension bridge – Accident at Yarmouth – An Excise case – Beginning of the Railway Mania – Sailing of Sir J. Franklin.
This year begins badly – with a murder – which I should not chronicle, were it not that it was the first case in which the electric telegraph lent its services for the detection of a crime. A man named John Tawell, a member of the Society of Friends, and who occupied a decent position in life, poisoned a poor woman at Salt Hill. A Quaker who seemed much confused had been met close by her house, and he went by train from Slough to Paddington. Suspicion being aroused, a message was sent from Slough, giving a description of him, and asking that he should be shadowed on his arrival. This was done, and, next day, he was arrested. He was tried, found guilty, and duly executed. The case, at the time, created an immense sensation, mainly because the villain was a member of the Society of Friends. Apropos of this, the Observer of 23 March is responsible for the following:
“The Murderer Tawell. – The following strange statement has been made by a person, who is a Quaker, living near Berkhampstead, and who is acquainted with Tawell: About a year ago, the stillness and decorum of the Quakers’ meeting at Berkhampstead, at which Tawell attended, was disturbed by one of the male members, who suddenly rose from his seat and exclaimed, with frantic earnestness, that there was then present, a person who was, at that very moment, meditating a most fearful crime. His conviction was so strong, that he passionately besought this individual, whoever, he might be, to reflect upon the wickedness of his intention, and to implore his Maker’s pardon for his murderous thoughts. As may be imagined, the Friends were thrown into great consternation by this strange and impetuous appeal, and the meeting broke up in alarm and confusion. Tawell was present at the time.”
Early in January the statue of King William IV., by Samuel Nixon, was placed on its pedestal, fronting London Bridge; but, as far as I know, there was no public ceremony at its inauguration, for the Times of 1 Feb. says: “That workmen are now actively employed in cleansing down the colossal figure of King William IV., preparatory to the hoarding being removed, and the statue thrown open to the view of the public. The base will present a very novel and pleasing appearance, it being ornamented with numerous naval trophies. The four cross footpaths leading to the figure will be lighted by four gas lamps, on massive granite pillars. In a few days the whole work will be completed, when it will be inspected by Her Majesty, the Queen Dowager, and His Royal Highness Prince Albert, those illustrious personages having intimated their desire to view it when finished.”@
On 15 January the Queen paid a visit to the Duke of Buckingham, at Stowe, and the magnificence of her reception had much to do with the financial collapse of the too generous Duke. On leaving Stowe she went to Strathfieldsaye to stay with the Duke of Wellington. It was on this occasion that the old Duke gave a lesson to the gentlemen of the Press, which the interviewers of our times might well take to heart: “Field-Marshal the Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr. – , and begs to say he does not see what his house at Strathfieldsaye has to do with the public press.”
On 21 Jan. a National Testimonial was presented to Rowland Hill for his labours in connection with the introduction of the Penny Post, and Mr. Larpent, the Chairman of the City of London Mercantile Committee on Postage, handed him a cheque for £10,000, which handsome sum had been raised by a public subscription, which was not confined to the mercantile community alone, persons of every rank, and of both sexes, contributing amounts varying from large sums to a few pence.
Just before the closing of the British Museum at 4 p.m. on 7 Feb., a crash was heard, and the famous Barberini, or Portland Vase, was found in pieces on the floor. A man, named Lloyd, in a fit of delirium produced by drink, had smashed it out of pure wantonness. The vase was valued at £1,000 by the Museum authorities, but, of course, that sum was purely nominal, as the vase was unique. It was deposited in the British Museum in the year 1810 by the Duke of Portland, and was considered as his property; hence the name of the “Portland Vase.” It was found about the middle of the 16th century, about two and a half miles from Rome, on the road leading from Frascati. At the time of its discovery it was enclosed in a marble sarcophagus, within a sepulchral chamber, under the mount called Monte di Grano. The material of which it is made is glass, the body being of a beautiful transparent dark blue, enriched with figures in relief, of opaque white glass. For more than two centuries it was the principal object of admiration in the Barberini Palace. It came into the possession of Sir William Hamilton, from whom it was purchased by the Duchess of Portland.
On 11 Feb. the delinquent was brought before Mr. Jardine, at Bow Street, and the Museum authorities electing to prosecute him for the minor offence of breaking the glass case which held the vase, and which was under the value of £5, he was convicted of that offence, and sentenced to pay £3, or two months’ hard labour in the House of Correction. He could not pay, and was committed to prison, in default, but on 13 Feb., someone paid the money, and the man was released.
An employé of the British Museum, named Doubleday, undertook, and effected, the restoration of the Vase, and it may now be seen in the Gold Room of the British Museum, but, alas! “all the King’s horses, and all the King’s men,” can never make it as it was. Wedgwood feebly reproduced it in ceramic ware, copies of which are now worth £200 each, and one copy, if not more, was made in silver.
I come across a curious paragraph in the Morning Post of March 13: “William Austin. – This person, whose name must be familiar to all who have had any acquaintance with the history of the Parliamentary proceedings in the case of the late Queen Caroline, or the eventful life of that unhappy Princess, arrived in London, last week, from Milan, where he has been residing for several years, for the most part, in a state of fatuity, the inmate of a lunatic asylum. We understand that he has been removed to this country through the intervention of the British Government, under an authority from the Lord Chancellor, in whose care, his person, and some considerable property, left to him by the late Queen, have been placed by certain proceedings on the part of his relations. He was conveyed hither from Milan under the charge of a medical and two other attendants; and immediately on his arrival, was visited by two London physicians, who, after an interview with him of some duration, at the hotel where he stopped, signed the necessary certificate for his detention in a private asylum, where he now remains. Austin is a very good-looking man, apparently about 40 years of age; and though, beyond doubt, mentally enfeebled, has no betrayal of such imbecility in the expression of his face. He has been in his present unfortunate condition since the year 1830; and, for a great part of that time, he has maintained an immovable taciturnity. No ingenuity has been able to extract a syllable from him. He answers no questions, nor asks any – enters into no conversation – and, even during the whole journey from Milan to London, he never spoke a word to his attendants, or any one else. Neither could the medical gentlemen who waited upon him here induce him to reply to any of their inquiries; and no doubt, this fact, of itself, formed no inconsiderable ingredient in the judgment at which they arrived. The unhappy man is extremely docile, has no disposition to violence, and readily understands and obeys any signs made to him.”
Van Amburgh’s stud, lions, etc., were sold at Manchester on 17 March, and fetched high prices; a fine black maned lion, £350; another, 6 years old, £310; two lion cubs, eight months old, male and female, sold, the one for £12 10/-, the other for £35. An elephant realised £750, and a giraffe £400.
Hungerford Suspension Bridge, the first of its kind over the Thames, was opened on 1 May, and, although a toll was demanded, it was calculated that, before dusk, some 25,000 persons had crossed from one side of the Thames to the other. It was taken down in July, 1862, to make room for the Charing Cross Railway Bridge. It was transferred to Clifton, and there opened, on 8 Dec., 1864, and it now spans the Avon.
On the next day (2 May) a terrible accident occurred at the Suspension bridge at Great Yarmouth. A clown was to emulate Barry’s folly, and cross the river in a washing-tub drawn by geese; and thousands of people assembled to see him, of whom a great number (accounts vary from 300 to 600), containing very many children, were on the bridge. Some of the suspension rods snapped, and the crowd fell into the water. Every assistance was rendered, but the number of recovered dead bodies, nearly all children, or young persons, was 77, and many are supposed to have been swept away by the current.
On the 2nd of May, the famous Excise trial at Bar, i. e., before twelve judges, the Attorney General v. Smith, came to an end, after lasting eight days. Mr. George Smith was a distiller, in a large way of business, at Whitechapel, and the premises of his brother James, who was a rectifier, adjoined his. The law forbids the junction of the businesses of distilling and rectifying, or any communication between premises carrying on such businesses; and, in this case, it was presumed that all spirit would be conveyed from one to the other by means of the highway. But the contention of the prosecution was, that the Excise officers, finding a great deficiency in the spirits ostensibly produced, as compared with the “wash,” had detected holes in a large receiver, and found, moreover, that they could themselves convey spirits from the distillery to the rectifying house, through pipes under ground, which were mixed up with those which supplied water, and so escaped detection. This the defendants denied, and brought forward evidence that the pipes were obsolete and disused. In the end, the verdict of the jury was, “We find for the Crown; but we are anxious to express our opinion that there has not been any evidence adduced before us which shows that the pipe has been fraudently used by the defendant.” The amount of damages claimed by the Crown was £150,000; but, by agreement, this was reduced to £76,000; and, finally, after an appeal from Mr. Smith, the Government were content with a cheque for £10,000.
About this time commenced what is well termed “The Railway Mania,” or, rather, public attention was particularly called to it, as it was becoming a crying scandal. So much so, that it attracted the notice of the legislature; and, if we look at a “Return to the Order of the Honourable the House of Commons, dated 8th April, 1845, for an alphabetical list of the Names, Description, and Places of Abode, of all Persons subscribing to the Amount of £2,000 and upwards to any Railway Subscription Contract deposited in the Private Bill Office during the present Session of Parliament,” we shall see that amongst the names will be found many of the leading nobility, large manufacturing firms, names well known in commerce and literature, mingled together in a most heterogeneous manner. The same column shows a combination of peers and printers, vicars and vice-admirals, spinsters and half-pay officers, Members of Parliament and special pleaders, professors and cotton spinners, gentlemen’s cooks and KC.’s, attorneys’ clerks and college scouts, waiters at Lloyd’s, relieving officers and excisemen, editors and engineers, barristers and butchers, Catholic priests and coachmen, dairymen and dyers, braziers, bankers, beer sellers and butlers, domestic servants, footmen and mail guards, and almost every calling under the sun.
And these, it must be remembered, were subscribers for £2,000 and upwards; those who put down their names for less were supposed to be holders of £21,386 6s. 4d. in Stock.
Of course, Punch could not overlook this mania for speculation, and we find the following in the number for 31 May:
“The night was stormy and dark. The town was shut up in sleep; Only those were abroad who were out on a lark, Or those, who’d no beds to keep.
“I pass’d through the lonely street, The wind did sing and blow; I could hear the policeman’s feet Clapping to and fro.
“There stood a potato-man In the midst of all the wet; He stood with his ’tato can In the lonely Haymarket.
“Two gents of dismal mien, And dank and greasy rags. Came out of a shop for gin, Swaggering over the flags:
“Swaggering over the stones, Those shabby bucks did walk; And I went and followed those needy ones, And listened to their talk.
“Was I sober, or awake? Could I believe my ears? Those dismal beggars spake Of nothing but railroad shares.
“I wondered more and more; Says one, ‘Good friend of mine, How many shares have you wrote for In the Diddlesex Junction Line?’
“‘I wrote for twenty,’ says Jim, ‘But they wouldn’t give me one’; His comrade straight rebuked him For the folly he had done:
“‘Oh, Jim, you are unawares Of the ways of this bad town; I always write for five hundred shares, And then, they put me down.’
“‘And yet you got no shares,’ says Jim, ‘for all your boast’; ‘I would have wrote,’ says Jack, ‘but where Was the penny to pay the post?’
“‘I lost, for I couldn’t pay That first instalment up; But, here’s taters smoking hot, I say Let’s stop, my boy, and sup.’
“And at this simple feast, The while they did regale, I drew each ragged capitalist Down on my left thumb nail.
“Their talk did me perplex, All night I tumbled and tossed, And I thought of railroad specs, And how money was won and lost.
“‘Bless railroads everywhere,’ I said, ‘and the world’s advance; Bless every railroad share In Italy, Ireland, France; For never a beggar need now despair, And every rogue has a chance.’”
And yet another extract. Who does not remember Thackeray’s Diary of C. Jeames de la Pluche, Esqre.? but few know how the idea was started. It was by W. M. T. himself in Punch of Aug. 2:
A LUCKY SPECULATOR
Considerable sensation has been excited in the upper and lower circles in the West End, by a startling piece of good fortune which has befallen James Plush Esq., lately footman in a respected family in Berkeley Square.
One day, last week, Mr. James waited upon his master, who is a banker in the City; and, after a little blushing and hesitation, said he had saved a little money in service, and was anxious to retire, and invest his savings to advantage.
His master (we believe we may mention, without offending delicacy, the well-known name of Sir George Flimsy, of the firm of Flimsy, Diddler and Flash) smilingly asked Mr. James what was the amount of his savings, wondering considerably how – out of an income of thirty guineas, the main part of which he spent in bouquets, silk stockings and perfumery – Mr. Plush could have managed to lay by anything.
Mr. Plush, with some hesitation, said he had been speculating in railroads, and stated his winnings to have been thirty thousand pounds. He had commenced his speculations with twenty, borrowed from a fellow-servant. He had dated his letters from the house in Berkeley Square, and humbly begged pardon of his master, for not having instructed the railway secretaries, who answered the applications, to apply at the area bell.
Sir George, who was at breakfast, instantly arose, and shook Mr. P. by the hand; Lady Flimsy begged him to be seated, and partake of the breakfast which he had laid on the table; and has, subsequently, invited him to her grand déjeuner at Richmond, where it was observed that Miss Emily Flimsy, her beautiful and accomplished seventh daughter, paid the lucky gentleman marked attention.
We hear it stated that Mr. P. is of very ancient family (Hugo de la Pluche came over with the Conqueror); and the new Brougham which he has started, bears the ancient coat of his race.
He has taken apartments at the Albany, and is a director of thirty-three railroads. He purposes to stand for Parliament at the next general election, on decidedly conservative principles, which have always been the politics of his family.
Report says that, even in his humble capacity, Miss Emily Flimsy had remarked his high demeanour. Well, “none but the brave,” say we, “deserve the fair.”
This we may call the commencement of the mania; in their proper places will be noticed its culmination and collapse.
On 18 May sailed from Greenhithe the two Arctic discovery ships, the Erebus and Terror, under the command of Sir John Franklin, whose instructions were “to push to the westward, without loss of time, in the latitude of about 74¼ degrees, till you have reached the longitude of that portion of land on which Cape Walker is situated, or about 98 degrees west. From that point we desire that every effort be used to endeavour to penetrate to the southward and westward, in a course as direct towards Behring’s Straits as the position and strength of the ice, or the existence of land, at present unknown, may admit. We direct you to this particular part of the Polar Sea, as affording the best prospect of accomplishing the passage to the Pacific.”
They were provisioned for three years, but when, in 1850, Captain Ommanney discovered, on Beechey Island, traces of the expedition having spent their first winter there, he found large stacks of preserved meat canisters, which, there is little doubt, contained putrid filth, and had been condemned by survey.
As nothing was heard of the expedition, another was organised, in 1847, to start, for search and relief, from Hudson’s Bay; and, indeed, no one can say that the two exploring vessels were forgotten; for, from that date, till 1857, thirty-nine different expeditions were sent to look after them. The first to find traces of them was that of Capt. Ommanney, in 1850; then, in April, 1854, Dr. Rae heard, from the natives, of a party of white men having been seen, four winters previously, and that their bodies had afterwards been seen. From these Eskimo, Rae obtained some silver spoons and other small articles which left no doubt but that they had belonged to the ill-fated expedition. But it was the Fox yacht, which was fitted out by Lady Franklin, and commanded by Capt. McClintock, which settled the question of their fate. Early in 1859, a boat, a few skeletons, chronometers, clothing, instruments, watches, plate, books, etc., were discovered; and, towards the end of May, a written paper was found, which gave news of them up to 25 Apl., 1848, and told that “Sir John Franklin died on 11 June, 1847, and the total losses by deaths in the expedition has been, to this date, nine officers and 15 men; we start on, to-morrow, 26th, for Back’s Fish River.” From the Eskimo was learned how one of the ships sunk in deep water, and the other was wrecked, after which they all perished miserably, some “falling down and dying as they walked,” as an old woman told Capt. McClintock.
CHAPTER XXV
The Queen’s Costume Ball – Copper Coinage of William IV. – New Oxford Street opened – Sale of Napoleon’s relics – Story of Nelson’s coat – Visit of King of the Netherlands – Railway speculation – Hire of newspapers – Reverse of fortune – Prince Albert and his taxes – Waghorn’s overland route.
The Queen gave a Costume Ball, at Buckingham Palace, on 6th June, which was a magnificent affair, and gave plenty of food for conversation. Every guest had to appear in a costume appropriate to the period of English history between 1740 and 1750; but, with the exception of the minuet, the dances were modern.
I have only space for the dresses of the Queen and Prince Albert. Her Majesty’s dress was composed of gold tissue, brocaded in coloured flowers, green leaves and silver, trimmed round the top, bottom and sides (the upper dress being open in front) with point lace over red ribbon; the dress looped up with red satin ribbons, and two large bows, in each of which was a diamond bow and tassel. The stomacher was composed of two large diamond bows, and a diamond point; the sleeves, which were tight, finished with point lace ruffles, and trimmed with red ribbon; on the left arm, the Garter in diamonds, and, on the right, a diamond rosette. She wore the blue ribbon and diamond George as usual. The under petticoat was of white and silver tissue, trimmed with a deep flounce of rich point lace (which had belonged to Queen Charlotte), headed by a quilling of red satin ribbon and bows; above, a narrower flounce of point lace, trimmed like the other; in each ribbon bow, a diamond rosette.
Prince Albert wore a suit of the richest crimson velvet (of Spitalfields manufacture); the coat lined with white satin, edged throughout with gold; and the buttons were of gold. On his left breast His Royal Highness wore a most splendid star of the order of the Garter, composed of diamonds, with the exception of the cross, which was formed of rubies. The badge of the Order was confined at the shoulder by an epaulette composed of large brilliants, and a most splendid George was suspended from the ribbon, wholly formed of brilliants. The Prince also wore the insignia of the Golden Fleece, formed of opals and diamonds. The Garter was set in brilliants, and the hilt of His Royal Highness’s sword was covered with diamonds. The waistcoat was of white satin, richly and elegantly embroidered with gold, the buttons being of gold. Shoe buckles of diamonds. Hat, three cornered, edged with gold lace, with handsome diamond ornament in the cockade in front.
The Earl of Cardigan could not masquerade as Bayard, but “he excited no little attention. He wore the uniform of the 11th Dragoons at Culloden; and, with the costume, which became him extremely, he contrived to assume the portentous bearing, and the true jack-boot stride and swagger.”
The Morning Chronicle is answerable for the following: “For some time past the copper coinage of William IV. has been eagerly purchased by persons who are stated to be Jews, and a report has, in consequence, gained ground that gold is contained in it. What reason there may be for this it is impossible to say; but it is a well-known fact, that agents have been at work for the last two months buying up those particular coins in Westminster, and they now fetch double the price of their legal issue. The mania has extended eastward, and twopence for a penny piece, and a penny for a halfpenny, etc., are now asked for the ‘precious issue.’”
On 9 June, the new street connecting Holborn with Oxford Street, and now called New Oxford Street, was thrown open for carriages.
Messrs. Christie and Manson sold, at the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly, on 23 June, the first portion of the “Napoleon Museum,” collected by Mrs. Sainsbury, and which had long been on exhibition. The prices fetched were ridiculously low, as the following examples will show. Among the bronzes, an infantine bust of the King of Rome, formerly in the possession of Josephine, at Malmaison, cost 20 guineas, sold for £1 10s. A drawing in sepia, by Debret, of Napoleon visiting the wounded on the field, after the battle of Eylau, £5 5s. The pictures illustrative of the principal events in the life of Napoleon, were almost given away; the highest price obtained, being £12 for one by the great French painter David, of Napoleon, with the crown raised in both his hands, to place on the head of Josephine, at the Coronation in Notre Dame. Twenty beautiful enamels by Lienard, of Napoleon, Ney, Berthier, Junot, Joseph, Lucien, Louis and Jerome Bonaparte, Murat, Caroline, the youngest sister of Napoleon, Cardinal Fesch, Marie Louise, etc., fetched but £76, and, on the other days’ sales, the lots went for far under their value.
My readers may possibly remember how, on 8 Dec., 1900, a number of Nelson relics in the Painted Hall, at Greenwich Hospital, were stolen, during the night, by a burglar, who escaped; and may like to know the story of Nelson’s coat. The Times of 9 July, copies the following from the Spectator:
“An interesting relic of Nelson has been discovered; and some interest also attaches to the manner in which it has been secured to the nation. Sir Harris Nicolas, in his laborious researches for editing the hero’s Despatches, had satisfied himself that the coat and waistcoat which Nelson wore when he fell at Trafalgar, were carefully preserved. In pursuance of the Admiral’s directions, they were given, with several other things, by Sir Thomas Hardy, his captain, to Lady Hamilton; by her, they were transferred, under peculiar circumstances, to a late alderman of London, and they remained in the possession of the alderman’s widow. The lady is not rich, and she asked £150 for the relic. This sum being beyond his own means, Sir Harris determined to raise it by subscription, in order that the coat and waistcoat might be deposited, like the coat which Nelson wore at the battle of the Nile, in Greenwich Hospital. With that view, he put the proposition in writing, and had it printed as a circular. Before issuing this circular, however, he sent a copy to Prince Albert, who immediately desired that the purchase might be made for himself, as he should feel ‘pride and pleasure’ in presenting the precious memorials to Greenwich Hospital. Sir Harris Nicolas took them to the Royal purchaser on Wednesday; and we understand that the Prince manifested a very fine feeling on the occasion. There is kind and generous wisdom in this act; for nothing could so help to identify the Queen’s husband with the British people, as such little tributes to their maritime pride. The coat is thus described in Sir Harris Nicolas’s circular, and it will be seen that it has an historic value: ‘The coat is the undress uniform of a vice-admiral, lined with white silk, with lace on the cuffs, and epaulettes. Four stars – of the Order of the Bath, St. Ferdinand and Merit, the Crescent, and St. Joachin – are sewn on the left breast, as Nelson habitually wore them; which disproves the story that he purposely adorned himself with his decorations on going into battle! The course of the fatal ball is shewn by a hole over the left shoulder, and part of the epaulette is torn away; which agrees with Dr. Sir William Beattie’s account of Lord Nelson’s death, and with the fact, that pieces of the bullion and pad of the epaulette adhered to the ball, which is now in Her Majesty’s possession. The coat and waistcoat are stained in several places with the hero’s blood.”
Further confirmatory evidence is given in the Globe, copied into the Times of 22 July. “It will scarcely be believed that the coat of the great naval hero, together with his cocked hat, and an immense quantity of his property, was, as it were, mortgaged for the sum of £120, yet such was the fact. The late Alderman Jonathan Joshua Smith was executor of Lord Nelson with Lady Hamilton; and, prior to his death, goods sufficient to fill six crates (amongst which were the coat, hat, breeches, etc.), were placed in the Town Hall, Southwark, under the care of Mr. Kinsey, the chief officer, and who now attends the aldermen at the Central Criminal Court. Kinsey was Alderman Smith’s confidential servant for a number of years, and to whom £120 was owing at his master’s death. Application was made to the Court of Aldermen, by some members of the Nelson family, for the restitution of the property; and, after a long discussion, Alderman Lucas consented to act as arbitrator between the family and Kinsey, and £30 was paid to the latter, in satisfaction of his claim, upon which, the things were repacked, and sent to Mrs. Smith, at Heron Court, Richmond, in whose possession they remained, until the purchase of the coat was made by Prince Albert.”
The King of the Netherlands paid the Queen a visit on 24 July, and the good man must have thought well of us, inasmuch as he was very much let do as he liked. In London he stopped at Mivart’s Hotel, went to the Opera, paid a few visits, was a guest of the Duke of Richmond for Goodwood Races, was made a Field Marshal, held a review in Hyde Park, and went back again; a far lighter sentence than is usually passed on Royalty when visiting this country.
We now find the inflation of Railway speculation attracting attention; and, in the Times of Aug. 1 is a letter, a column in length, of which I give the following extract, referring to the inquiry into the Dublin and Galway Railway:
“The next case is that of letters addressed to 1, Park Place, Devonshire Street, Mile End Road. So great is the number of letters delivered here, that additional assistance has been given in the duty. Upwards of 1,000 letters have been delivered here within nine months; only last week 120 were taken in on one day, of which, at one time, no less than 16, and, at another, 30, letters were delivered. This No. 1, Park Place, is up an obscure court, consisting of three small houses, of about 5/6 rent per week. No. 1 is occupied by a man and woman, and the next door by their daughter. The proceedings of these persons have been closely watched. Directly a packet of letters has been received in the morning, off starts the old man and woman, and, sometimes, the daughter, to the places appointed to meet the receiver. On the first occasion, the old woman, who had received 16 letters, evidently wanted to deposit her treasure at Crosby Hall Chambers; for, opposite to them, she halted, carefully looking about her; but, unfortunately, she found she was watched; and, escaping through the Excise Office, hid herself somewhere, till her pursuer lost her. The next morning, another packet was received, with which the old man was intrusted; he started immediately, and, after a most circuitous route, to avoid detection as to where he deposited his treasure, he was seen to enter the King’s Arms Tavern, Bishopsgate Churchyard, where he was seen to deliver his despatches to a smart, dapper Jew, well known, who, after a few moments’ deliberation, left the house, and was speedily joined by several confederates at the top of the churchyard, who, after dividing the letters, dispersed as instantaneously as can be imagined. The next day, it became necessary to augment the detective force, for the old people became more wary; the old man went out before post time, and the daughter was selected as the messenger with despatches; she was fleet of foot, but she had been carefully identified, therefore that did not avail her much, as the detective force was divided, and stationed at such places as were likely to succeed. She took a most circuitous route, but, eventually, found herself opposite the Auction Mart, evidently looking out anxiously for someone; she saw she was watched, and away she started, and, after a long round, found shelter in Maidenhead Court, Aldersgate Street, in a little smith’s shop – which turned out to belong to the identical party who resides at No. 1, Park Place, where the letters were first delivered. Here the pursuit was given up. No further attempt to trace the receiver was made, the inquiry before the select committee coming on; but sufficient is shown to exhibit the system existing to this hour. How, it may be asked, do they procure the signatures to the deed, one party holding so many letters of allotment? The system is this: one party signs the deed as often as disguise will shield him from discovery; then the practice is resorted to of procuring persons, from 15 years to 60, to accompany the holder of the banker’s receipt to the Railway Office, to sign the deed in such name as he may direct; for which, when done, he receives remuneration, varying from one shilling to ten, according to the premium the scrip may bear in the market.” There were several police cases as to writing and forging these bogus names, and prudent people were beginning to look shy at railway scrip.
Here is a case which we can hardly understand nowadays. As long as Newspapers were stamped, it was a misdemeanour to allow anyone to read them, unless they purchased them, as it was considered a fraud upon the Revenue. On 23 Aug., in the Court of Requests, Kingsgate Street, a case came before the Commissioners for adjudication, in which a newsvendor summoned a person for a small sum, for “reading” the various newspapers. The plaintiff, in stating the case, said the defendant had been in the habit of seeing the papers daily, for which a penny a day was charged, and the present proceedings were taken to recover a balance due on that account. The Commissioners said that he could not recover, as he had been guilty of a gross fraud upon the Stamp Office in letting newspapers out for hire. The plaintiff: But he was in the habit of coming to my shop, and seeing them. The Commissioner: That don’t matter; it is a fraud upon the Stamp Office, and you render yourself liable to an information being laid against you for it.
