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CHAPTER X

The Eglinton Tournament – Sale of Armour, &c. – The Queen of Beauty and her Cook – Newspapers and their Sales.

The Earl of Eglinton had a “bee in his bonnet,” which was none other than reviving the tournaments of the Age of Chivalry, with real armour, horses and properties; and he inoculated with his craze most of the young aristocracy, and induced them to join him in carrying it out. The preliminary rehearsals took place in the grounds of the Eyre Arms Tavern, Kilburn. The last of these came off on 13 July, in the presence of some 6,000 spectators, mostly composed of the aristocracy. The following is a portion of the account which appeared in the Times of 15 July:

“At 4 o’clock the business of the day commenced. There might be seen men in complete steel, riding with light lances at the ring, attacking the ‘quintain,’ and manœuvering their steeds in every variety of capricole. Indeed, the show of horses was one of the best parts of the sight. Trumpeters were calling the jousters to horse, and the wooden figure, encased in iron panoply, was prepared for the attack. A succession of chevaliers, sans peur et sans reproche, rode at their hardy and unflinching antagonist, who was propelled to the combat by the strength of several stout serving-men, in the costume of the olden time, and made his helmet and breastplate rattle beneath their strokes, but the wooden

.. Knight

Was mickle of might,

And stiff in Stower did stand,

grinning defiance through the barred aventaile of his headpiece. It was a sight that might have roused the spirit of old Froissart, or the ghost of Hotspur. The Knight had, certainly, no easy task to perform; the weight of armour was rather heavier than the usual trappings of a modern dandy, and the heat of the sun appeared to be baking the bones of some of the competitors. Be this as it may, there was no flinching. The last part of the tournament consisted of the Knights tilting at each other. The Earl of Eglinton, in a splendid suit of brass armour, with garde de reins of plated chain mail, and bearing on his casque a plume of ostrich feathers, was assailed by Lord Cranstoun, in a suit of polished steel, which covered him from top to toe, the steel shoes, or sollarets, being of the immense square-toed fashion of the time of Henry VIII. The lances of these two champions were repeatedly shivered in the attack, but neither was unhorsed; fresh lances were supplied by the esquires, and the sport grew ‘fast and furious.’ Lord Glenlyon and another knight, whose armour prevented him from being recognized, next tilted at each other, but their horses were not sufficiently trained to render the combat as it ought to have been, and swerved continually from the barrier. It was nearly eight o’clock before the whole of the sports were concluded and the company withdrawn. We believe no accident happened, though several gentlemen who essayed to ‘witch the world with noble horsemanship’ were thrown, amidst the laughter of the spectators. Captain Maynard proved himself a superior rider, by the splendid style at which he leaped his horse, at speed, repeatedly over the barrier, and the admirable manner in which he performed the modern lance exercise, and made a very beautiful charger curvet round and round his lance placed upright on the ground. The whole of the arrangements were under the direction of Mr. Pratt, to whose discretion the ordering of the tilting, the armour and arming, and all the appliances for the tournament have been entrusted.

“Considering that the business of Saturday was but a rehearsal, and, putting entirely out of the question the folly, or wisdom, of the whole thing, it must be acknowledged that it has been well got up. Some of the heralds’ and pursuivants’ costumes are very splendid. There is an immense store of armour of all sorts, pennons, lances, trappings, and all the details of the wars of the middle ages. The display in Scotland will, certainly, be a gorgeous pageant, and a most extraordinary, if not most rational, piece of pastime.”

The three days’ jousting and hospitality at Eglinton Castle, Ayrshire, which commenced on the 28th, and ended on the 30th, August, are said to have cost the Earl of Eglinton the sum of £40,000. He invited the flower of the aristocracy to attend – all the armour was choice and old, and the costumes were splendid. Every accessory was perfect in its way; and so it should have been, for it was two years in preparation. The Marquis of Londonderry was King of the Tourney, and Lady Seymour, a grand-daughter of the Sheridan, was the “Queen of Love and Beauty.”

By the evening of the 27th, Eglinton Castle was not only filled from cellar to garret, but the surrounding towns and villages were crammed full, and people had to rough it. Accommodation for man, or beast, rose from 500 to 1,000 per cent.; houses in the neighbourhood, according to their dimensions, were let from £10 to £30 for the time; and single beds, in the second best apartments of a weaver’s cabin, fetched from 10/– to 20/– a night, while the master and mistress of the household, with their little ones, coiled themselves up in any out of the way corner, as best they might. Stables, byres, and sheds were in requisition for the horses, and, with every available atom of space of this description, it was found all too little, as people flocked from all parts of the country.

The invitation given by the Earl was universal. Those who applied for tickets of admission to the stands were requested to appear in ancient costume, fancy dresses, or uniforms, and farmers and others were asked to appear in bonnets and kilts, and many – very many – did so; but although all the bonnet makers in Kilmarnock, and all the plaid manufacturers in Scotland, had been employed from the time of the announcement, onwards, they could not provide for the wants of the immense crowd, and many had to go in their ordinary dress.

Unfortunately, on the opening day, the weather utterly spoilt the show. Before one o’clock, the rain commenced, and continued, with very little intermission, until the evening. This, necessarily, made it very uncomfortable for all, especially the spectators. Many thousands left the field, and the enjoyment of those who remained was, in a great measure, destroyed. The Grand Stand, alone, was covered in, and neither plaid, umbrella, nor great-coat could prevail against a deluge so heavy and unintermitting; thousands were thoroughly drenched to the skin; but the mass only squeezed the closer together, and the excitement of the moment overcame all external annoyances, although the men became sodden, and the finery of the ladies sadly bedraggled.

It had been arranged that the procession should start from the Castle at one o’clock, but the state of the weather was so unfavourable, that it did not issue forth till about half-past two, and the weather compelled some modifications; for instance, the Queen of Beauty should have shown herself “in a rich costume, on a horse richly caparisoned, a silk canopy borne over her by attendants in costume,” but both she, and her attendant ladies, who were also to have been on horseback, did not so appear, but were in closed carriages, whilst their beautifully caparisoned palfreys – riderless – were led by their pages.

There were 15 Knights, besides the “Lord of the Tournament,” the Earl of Eglinton, and much as I should like to give their description and following, I must refrain, merely giving two as a sample —

The other Knights were: —The Knight of the Dragon, Marquis of Waterford; Knight of the Black Lion, Viscount Alford; Knight of Gael, Viscount Glenlyon; Knight of the Dolphin, Earl of Cassilis; Knight of the Crane, Lord Cranstoun; Knight of the Ram, Hon. Capt. Gage; The Black Knight, John Campbell, Esq., of Saddell; Knight of the Swan, Hon. Mr. Jerningham; Knight of the Golden Lion, Capt. J. O. Fairlie; Knight of the White Rose, Charles Lamb, Esq.; Knight of the Stag’s Head, Capt. Beresford; The Knight of the Border, Sir F. Johnstone; Knight of the Burning Tower, Sir F. Hopkins; The Knight of the Red Rose, R. J. Lechmere, Esq.; Knight of the Lion’s Paw, Cecil Boothby, Esq.

There were, besides, Knights Visitors, Swordsmen, Bowmen, the Seneschal of the Castle, Marshals and Deputy Marshals, Chamberlains of the household, servitors of the Castle, a Herald and two Pursuivants, a Judge of Peace, and a Jester – besides a horde of small fry.

The first tilt was between the Knights of the Swan and the Red Rose, but it was uninteresting, the Knights passing each other twice, without touching, and, on the third course, the Knight of the Swan lost his lance.

Then came the tilt of the day, when the Earl of Eglinton met the Marquis of Waterford. The latter was particularly remarked, as the splendour of his brazen armour, the beauty of his charger, and his superior skill in the management of the animal, as well as in the bearing of his lance, attracted general observation. But, alas! victory was not to be his, for, in the first tilt, the Earl of Eglinton shivered his lance on his opponent’s shield, and was duly cheered by all. In the second, both Knights missed; but, in the third, the Earl again broke his lance on his opponent’s armour; at which there was renewed applause from the multitude; and, amidst the cheering and music, the noble Earl rode up to the Grand Stand, and bowed to the Queen of Beauty.

There were three more tilts, and a combat of two-handed swords, which finished the outdoor amusements of the day, and, when the deluged guests found their way to the Banqueting Hall, they found that, and its sister tent, the Ballroom, utterly untenantable through the rain; so they had to improvise a meal within the Castle, and the Ball was postponed.

Next day was wild with wind and rain, and nothing could be attempted out of doors, as the armour was all wet and rusty, and every article of dress that had been worn the preceding day completely soaked through, and the Dining Hall and the Great Pavilion required a thorough drying. The former was given up to the cleansing of armour, etc., and, in the latter, there were various tilting matches on foot, the combatants being clothed in armour. There was also fencing, both with sticks and broadsword, among the performers being Prince Louis Bonaparte, afterwards Napoleon III. His opponent with the singlesticks was a very young gentleman, Mr. Charteris, and the Prince came off second best in the encounter, as he did, afterwards, in some bouts with broadswords with Mr. Charles Lamb. Luckily, in this latter contest, both fought in complete mail, with visors down, for had it not been so, and had the combat been for life or death, the Prince would have had no chance with his opponent.

On the third day the weather was fine, and the procession was a success. There was tilting between eight couples of Knights, and tilting at the ring, and the tourney wound up with the Knights being halved, and started from either end of the lists, striking at each other with their swords in passing. Only one or two cuts were given, but the Marquis of Waterford and Lord Alford fought seriously, and in right good earnest, until stopped by the Knight Marshal, Sir Charles Lamb.

In the evening, a banquet was given to 300 guests; and, afterwards, a ball, in which 1,000 participated. As the weather, next day, was so especially stormy, the party broke up, and the experimental revival has never again been attempted, except a Tourney on a much smaller scale, which was held on 31 Oct., 1839, at Irvine, by a party from Eglinton Castle; but this only lasted one day.

I regret that I have been unable to find any authentic engravings of this celebrated tournament, but I reproduce a semi-comic contemporaneous etching from the Satirical Prints, Brit. Mus.

The armour and arms used in this tournament were shown in Feb., 1840, at the Gallery of Ancient Armour in Grosvenor Street, and they were subsequently sold by Auction on July 17 and 18 of that year. They fetched ridiculously low prices, as the following example will show:

A suit of polished steel cap à pied armour, richly engraved and gilt, being the armour prepared for the Knight of the Lion’s Paw, with tilting shield, lance, plume and crest en suite, 32 guineas.

The emblazoned banner and shield of the Knight of the Burning Tower, with the suit of polished steel, cap-à-pied armour, with skirt of chain mail, 35 guineas.

The splendid suit of armour worn by the Knight of the Ram, with crest and plume, 24 guineas.

The magnificent suit of polished steel armour, worn by the Knight of the Swan, with the emblazoned tilting apparel, horse armour, and caparison, tilting saddle, lances to correspond, and a splendid modelled horse of life size, carved and painted after nature, £36.

The armour worn as a Knight Visitor by Prince Louis Napoleon, with an elaborate visored headpiece, and other appurtenances complete, 9 guineas.

The two beautifully-fashioned mêlée swords, used in the combat between Prince Louis and the Knight of the White Rose, seven shillings.

On the second day’s sale some of the suits fetched better prices. The splendid suit of fluted mail, worn by the Marquis of Waterford, was the gem of the collection. It was in the finest preservation, elaborately worked, and beautifully bright. It was considered one of the most perfect and complete suits in existence, and was bought at 240 guineas for the Tower of London. Lord Alford’s and Mr. Lechmere’s suits both went for 100 guineas each.

The spirit of the Tournament seems even to have affected the ladies, for we read of a passage of arms between Lady Seymour, the Queen of Beauty, and Lady Shuckburgh. It originally appeared in the Observer of 8 Feb., 1840, but was copied into the Times and other papers.

(Copy 1). “Lady Seymour presents her compliments to Lady Shuckburgh, and would be obliged to her for the character of Mary Stedman, who states that she has lived twelve months, and still is, in Lady Shuckburgh’s establishment. Can Mary Stedman cook plain dishes well? make bread? and is she honest, good tempered, sober, willing and cleanly? Lady Seymour would also like to know the reason why she leaves Lady Shuckburgh’s service. Direct, under cover, to Lord Seymour, Maiden Bradley.”

(Copy 2.) “Lady Shuckburgh presents her compliments to Lady Seymour. Her Ladyship’s note, dated Oct. 28, only reached her yesterday, Nov. 3. Lady Shuckburgh was unacquainted with the name of the kitchenmaid, until mentioned by Lady Seymour, as it is her custom neither to apply for, or give characters to any of the under servants, this being always done by the housekeeper, Mrs. Couch, and this was well known to the young woman; therefore Lady Shuckburgh is surprised at her referring any lady to her for a character. Lady Shuckburgh having a professed cook, as well as a housekeeper, in her establishment, it is not very likely she, herself, should know anything about the ability or merits of the under-servants; therefore she is unable to answer Lady Seymour’s note. Lady Shuckburgh cannot imagine Mary Stedman to be capable of cooking for any, except the servants’ hall table. Nov. 4, Pavilion, Hans Place.”

(Copy 3.) “Lady Seymour presents her compliments to Lady Shuckburgh, and begs she will order her housekeeper, Mrs. Pouch, to send the girl’s character without delay; otherwise, another young woman will be sought for elsewhere, as Lady Seymour’s children cannot remain without their dinners, because Lady Shuckburgh, keeping ‘a proffessed cook and a housekeeper,’ thinks a knowledge of the details of her establishment beneath her notice. Lady Seymour understood from Stedman that, in addition to her other talents, she was actually capable of dressing food for the little Shuckburghs to partake of, when hungry.”

[To this note was appended a clever pen-and-ink vignette, by the Queen of Beauty, representing the three little Shuckburghs, with large, turnip-looking heads and cauliflower wigs, sitting at a round table, and voraciously scrambling for mutton chops, dressed by Mary Stedman, who is seen looking on with supreme satisfaction, while Lady Shuckburgh appears in the distance, in evident dismay.]

(Copy 4.) “Madam, – Lady Shuckburgh has directed me to acquaint you that she declines answering your note, the vulgarity of which is beneath contempt; and, although it may be the characteristic of the Sheridans to be vulgar, coarse and witty, it is not that of ‘a lady,’ unless she happens to be born in a garret and bred in a kitchen. Mary Stedman informs me that your Ladyship does not keep either a cook, or a housekeeper, and that you only require a girl who can cook a mutton chop. If so, I apprehend that Mary Stedman, or any other scullion, will be found fully equal to cook for, or manage the establishment of, the Queen of Beauty.

“I am, your Ladyship’s etc. – Elizabeth Couch (not Pouch.)”

Even in those days, Newspapers were somewhat given to vaunt themselves as to their circulation, but they had no need to call in the aid of the chartered accountant, as they could get their facts from the number of stamps supplied – the stamp then being of the value of three halfpence per newspaper, an impost which was not removed until 15 June, 1855, by the Act 18 and 19 Vict., c. 27. The Times of 5 Aug., 1839, gives us

“A return of the number of Newspaper Stamps issued to the several Newspapers in London, from 1 Ap. to 29 June, 1839, inclusive; specifying each Newspaper by name, and the number of Stamps issued each month during that period to each Newspaper.”

CHAPTER XI

The Chartists – Their going to church – Dissolution of the Convention – Approaching marriage of the Queen – The Queen and lunatics – Raid on a Gaming House – Act of Penance.

This year Chartism was rampant and very militant. On 1 April there were riots at Devizes, on 3 May, seven men were arrested at Manchester for drilling, and, on the 25th of that month a great meeting was held on Kersall Moor, four miles from Manchester. On 4th July there were very serious riots at Birmingham, and again on the 15th. On the same date between 3,000 and 4,00 °Chartists met on Clerkenwell Green to condemn the action of the authorities at Birmingham, and, towards the end of the month, numerous meetings were held in the North of England, and there were riots at Newcastle and Stockport. In August there was great unrest in the North, and some trials took place at Birmingham and Manchester for rioting and sedition.

A new, and somewhat unexpected method of agitation, was, about this time, adopted by the Chartists. They betook themselves, suddenly, to attendance in a body at public worship, taking early possession on the Sundays of the various cathedrals and parish churches, to the exclusion of the more regular attendants. On the afternoon of Sunday, 11 Aug., a party of them, about 500 in number, met together in West Smithfield, and walked in procession to St. Paul’s Cathedral. On arriving there, many of them refused to take off their hats; but, after some remonstrance from the Vergers, they submitted. The majority of them wore a little piece of red ribbon in their button holes, and conducted themselves quite peaceably. On the Sunday following, their brethren at Norwich pursued a similar course at the Cathedral of that city, which was crowded almost to suffocation. The Bishop, who preached, took the opportunity to deliver an impressive remonstrance on the folly and danger of their proceedings. The Chartists behaved well in the Cathedral; but, at St. Stephen’s Church in the evening, they made a disturbance. The Chartists at Manchester, following the advice of Feargus O’Connor, attended the Old Church (now the Cathedral) in great numbers. The authorities, having been previously advised of their intention, had the military in readiness to act, should the Chartists behave in a disorderly manner: but they conducted themselves with great decorum. It is said that, previous to Divine Service, they handed the clergyman a Chartist text to preach from, but he selected as his text, “My house is the house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves”; on announcing which, the Chartists rose, and quitted the church. The same tactics were followed in the principal towns all over the country, but, either from the success of them not being very apparent, or from the distastefulness of the method employed, the practice was not followed up for long – nor with any great regularity.

On the 14th Sep. the Chartist National Convention was dissolved; and, on the 20th Feargus O’Connor was arrested for sedition, on a Judge’s Warrant, at Manchester, and things were fairly quiet during the remainder of the year, with the exception of a serious Chartist riot, on 4 Nov., at Newport, in Monmouthshire, where many rioters were killed.

We have seen how, in the beginning of the year, the Sun had prophesied the marriage of the Queen and Prince Albert, for which it was duly pooh-poohed by the Times– but on 22 Aug., the Morning Post had the dreadful temerity to announce the same – and the Court Circular of 11 Oct. tells us, that “The Hereditary Prince (Ernest) and Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, landed at the Tower, at 4 o’clock yesterday afternoon, from the Continent. Their Serene Highnesses were conveyed in two of the Royal landaus to the Royal Mews at Pimlico, and, shortly afterwards, left town with their suite in two carriages and four, for Windsor Castle, on a visit to the Queen.”

On the 14th Oct., the Queen informed Lord Melbourne of her intention to marry Prince Albert, which met with the Premier’s warm approbation. Next day she told the Prince that she wished to marry him. He had been out early, with his brother, hunting, but returned at twelve, and half-an-hour afterwards, the Queen sent for him, and he found her alone in her room. That it was a love match on both sides is well known, and, until the untimely death of the Prince Consort, they were models of conjugal love and felicity.

On 14 Nov. the Prince and his brother left Windsor – and departed for the Continent, via Dover; and, at a Privy Council held at Buckingham Palace on 23rd of that month, the Queen communicated her intention of marriage. The declaration was as follows:

“I have caused you to be summoned at the present time, in order that I may acquaint you with my resolution in a matter which deeply concerns the welfare of my people, and the happiness of my future life.

“It is my intention to ally myself in marriage with the Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. Deeply impressed with the solemnity of the engagement which I am about to contract, I have not come to this decision without mature consideration, nor without feeling a strong assurance that, with the blessing of Almighty God, it will at once secure my domestic felicity, and serve the interests of my country.

“I have thought fit to make this resolution known to you, at the earliest period, in order that you may be fully apprised of a matter so highly important to me and to my Kingdom, and which, I persuade myself, will be most acceptable to all my loving subjects.”

Upon this announcement, all the Privy Councillors present made it their humble request that Her Majesty’s most gracious declaration to them might be made public; which Her Majesty was pleased to order accordingly.

The Queen suffered severely from lunatics. In June a man got into the gardens of Buckingham Palace, and, when arrested, declared he had come there for the sole purpose of killing Her Majesty, and was duly committed to Tothill Bridewell. Within a day or two of his release, in the middle of October, he went to Windsor and broke three or four panes of glass in the Castle. He was afterwards apprehended, but what became of him, I do not know; in all probability he was sent to a lunatic asylum.

In the paper which gives the account of the above, I read, “James Bryan, the Queen’s Scotch suitor, was in Windsor the whole of yesterday (Sunday, 13 Oct.). In the morning, he was waiting, for a considerable period, at the door of St. George’s Chapel, leading to the Cloisters, to have a view of the Queen, as Her Majesty and the two Princes of Saxe-Coburg, and the Duchess of Kent left the Chapel. In the afternoon, he walked on the Terrace, and conducted himself in his usual manner, very respectfully bowing to the Queen, as Her Majesty passed him on the New Terrace.” – By the above, he must have been well known.

On 29 Nov., a respectably-dressed man got over the high iron gates leading to the Castle, a place at which there were no sentries, and walked across the Park, to the grand entrance to the Castle. Upon seeing the porter in attendance at the lodge, he said: “I demand entrance into the Castle as King of England”; to which the porter replied: “Very well, your Majesty, but be pleased to wait until I get my hat,” and then taking him to the Castle, handed him over to the police. He turned out to be a man named Stockledge, who was partner in an extensive wholesale business in Manchester. He had been in two lunatic asylums, and when questioned by the Mayor of Windsor, as to the object of his visit, said that: “he was like all other men who wanted wives – he was looking after one,” evidently alluding to Her Majesty. On being further questioned, he said “he was the King of England, and was impelled by the Spirit.” He afterwards said that “an unknown power had done it,” and that “it was the Spirit which helped him over the gates.” Of course he was mad.

There was yet another fool this year, but, this time, he was not a maniac – only a Post Office Clerk, who wanted to have an interview with Her Majesty. On the afternoon of the 8th Dec., a carriage and four drove up to Windsor Castle, and, from it, alighted a personage wearing a foraging cap, a fur boa round his neck, and fur gloves, who announced himself as the bearer of important despatches which he must deliver into the Queen’s own hands. This, of course, was not complied with, and as he would not part with the documents, he was handed over to the police, and taken to the station, where he made a sturdy resistance when they were taken from him. He turned out to be a junior clerk in the Foreign Post Office, named William Saunders, who, being on duty when the Foreign Mails arrived, found some letters and papers addressed to the Queen, and put them into his pocket with the intention of delivering them himself. He was suspended from his duties, but I do not know his ultimate fate.

Gambling houses were still in existence, although the Police Act of this year (2 & 3 Vict., c. 47, s. 48) gave the police great and additional power towards suppressing them. Here is a sample raid as reported in the Observer of 15 Dec.:

“Superintendent Baker, C, succeeded on Saturday night week, in breaking his way into a gambling house, 60 Jermyn Street (commonly called the Cottage), and some persons, therein found, were fined, on Monday, at Marlborough Street Office. In all, seven persons were captured, of whom, two were connected with the management of the gambling house; the others were gentlemen players. They were taken to the Station house in Vine Street; and, as we know it to be the anxious desire of the police authorities to suppress the nuisance of gaming houses, we feel that we are but lending our humble aid towards effecting that object in now publishing the real names of those gentlemen who were captured, and who passed themselves off to the police and the magistrate as being ‘Jones,’ ‘Smith,’ and other conventional misnomers. (Here follow the names.) Our Correspondent has told us of a certain noble lord, who was running here and there, on the night of the capture of his friends, striving, in the first instance, to get them bailed out, and, failing in that, to provide for them creature comforts in their cells. We cannot avoid mentioning one or two little incidents connected with this affair. The admission of spirits to prisoners in a station house is strictly forbidden, but, on this occasion, their friends outside succeeded in introducing eight soda water bottles filled with excellent pale brandy, so regularly corked and wired, as to deceive even the sharp eyes of the Inspector.

“Next day (Sunday), at 12 o’clock, they were bailed out, but, on the following morning at Marlborough Street Office, a sad mishap had all but blown up the misnomers; for, when the name of ‘Jones’ was called from the police sheet, the gentleman who had honoured that name by assuming it, quite forgot his condescension, until one of his companions in trouble nudged him in the side, saying, ‘D-n it, that’s you.’ By the way, the croupier escaped through the skylight, with the bank, amounting, it is supposed, to, at least, £500. He, and a boy who escaped with him, had but a minute or two the start of the police. As it was, the croupier met with a most severe accident, having cut his thigh so deeply as to cause a most serious hemorrhage. The gutter was flooded with his blood.”

I wind up the year by chronicling an event which, I fancy, will never occur again, one of the most singular circumstances connected with it being, that the penitent was a Jewess. It occurs in a letter in the Times of 19 Dec.:

“Act of Penance, St. John’s, Clerkenwell.

“Sir. – Understanding that many stories are afloat concerning the above act, performed on Sunday last (15 Dec.) by a young woman of the Jewish persuasion, named Deborah Cohen, I thought the particulars might be acceptable. This affair appears to have arisen from some family quarrel, the action in the Ecclesiastical Court, having been brought against her by her brother, for having made use to her sister-in-law, Rosetta Cohen, of a term contrary as well to this part of our laws, as to the usages of society. To avoid expenses she had no means to meet, and the consequences thereof, her solicitor advised her to admit her fault, and abide the award of the Court. This having got wind, the unpretending church of St. John’s was beset, early on Sunday last, by great crowds, amongst whom it required great exertion of the parish officers and the police to preserve a proper decorum. The crowds were, however, disappointed in seeing this young woman exposed in the open church, with the covering of a white sheet, etc., the order from the Ecclesiastical Court only having enjoined her to appear in the vestry room of this church, on Sunday morning last, after service and a sermon, and before the minister, churchwardens, and five or six of the plaintiff’s friends (some of whom attended), to recite, after the minister, her regret, etc., in the words laid down in the order. This was carried into effect, accordingly, the crowds in the church and St. John’s Square remaining long after the ceremony had been performed, and the parties had left the vestry.

“W.”