Manners & Cvstoms of ye Englyshe. Doyle Richard

      Manners & Cvstoms of ye Englyshe / Drawn from ye Qvick

      YE CONTRIBUTOR HYS PREFACE

      Suppose the great-grandfather of anybody could step down from his picture-frame and stalk abroad, his descendant would be eager to hear his opinion of the world we live in. Most of us would like to know what the men of the Past would say of the Present. If some old philosopher, for instance Socrates, exchanging robes for modern clothes, lest he should be followed by the boys and taken up by the police, could revisit this earth, walk our streets, see our sights, behold the scenes of our political and social life, and, contemplating this bustling age through the medium of his own quiet mind, set down his observations respecting us and our usages, he would write a work, no doubt, very interesting to her Majesty's subjects.

      It would answer the purpose of a skilful literary enchanter to "unsphere the spirit of Plato," or that of Pythagoras, Aristotle, or any other distinguished sage of antiquity, and send it out on its rambles with a commission to take, and report, its views of things in general. But such necromancy would have tasked even the Warlock of the North, would puzzle the wizard of any point of the compass, and, it is probable, could be cleverly achieved by no adept inferior to the ingenious Mr. Shakspeare.

      However, there flourished in a somewhat later day a philosopher, for such he was after his fashion, a virtuoso, antiquary, and F.R.S., whose ghost an inconsiderable person may perhaps attempt to raise without being accused of pretending to be too much of a conjuror. He appears to have been a Peripatetic, at least until he could keep a coach, but on the subjects of dress, dining, and some others, his opinions favour strongly of Epicurism. A little more than a hundred and eighty years ago he employed his leisure in going about everywhere, peeping into everything, seeing all that he could, and chronicling his experiences daily. In his Diary, which happily has come down to our times, the historical facts are highly valuable, the comments mostly sensible, the style is very odd, and the autobiography extremely ludicrous. I have adventured reverently to evoke this worshipful gentleman, that, resuming his old vocation as a journalist, he might comment on the "Manners and Customs of ye Englyshe," in the name of Mr. Pips. I hope his shadow, if not his spirit, may be recognised in the following pages.

PERCIVAL LEIGH.

      A CIDERE CELLARE DURING A COMICK SONGE

Saturday, March 10, 1849.

      To Drury Lane this Evening, to see the Horsemanship, which did divert me mightily; but had rather it had been at Astley's, which is the fitter Place for it. After that, to Supper at the Cider Cellars in Maiden Lane, wherein was much Company, great and small, and did call for Kidneys and Stout, then a small Glass of Aqua-Vitæ and Water, and thereto a Cigar. While we supped, the Singers did entertain us with Glees and Comical Ditties; but Lack, to hear with how little Wit the young Sparks about Town are tickled! But the Thing that did most take me was to see and hear one Ross sing the Song of Sam Hall the Chimney-Sweep, going to be hanged: for he had begrimed his Muzzle to look unshaven, and in rusty black Clothes, with a battered old Hat on his Crown and a short Pipe in his Mouth, did sit upon the Platform, leaning over the Back of a Chair: so making believe that he was on his way to Tyburn. And then he did sing to a dismal Psalm-Tune, how that his Name was Sam Hall, and that he had been a great Thief, and was now about to pay for all with his Life; and thereupon he swore an Oath which did make me somewhat shiver, though divers laugh. Then, in so many Verses, how his Master had badly taught him and now he must hang for it; how he should ride up Holborn Hill in a Cart, and the Sheriffs would come, and then the Parson, and preach to him, and after them would come the Hangman; and at the End of each Verse he did repeat his Oath. Last of all, how that he should go up to the Gallows; and desired the Prayers of his Audience, and ended by cursing them all round. Methinks it had been a Sermon to a Rogue to hear him, and I wish it may have done good to some of the Company. Yet was his cursing very horrible, albeit to not a few it seemed a high Joke; but I do doubt that they understood the Song and did only relish the Oaths. Strange to think what a Hit this Song of Sam Hall hath made, and how it hath taken the Town, and how popular it is not only among Tavern Haunters and Frequenters of Night Houses, but also with the Gentry and Aristocracy who do vote it a Thing that ought to be heard though a blackguard, and look in at the Cider Cellars Night by Night after Dinner at their Clubs to hear it sung. After Sam Hall, to pay for my Supper, which cost me 2s. 2d., besides 4d. to the Waiter; and then Home in a Cab, it being late, and I fearing to anger my Wife, which cost me 2s. more; but I grudged not the Money, having been much diverted, and so to Bed.

      AN "AT HOME." YE POLKA

Wednesday, March 21st, 1849.

      To-night to an Evening Party with my Wife, to Sir Hilary Jinks's, whereunto we had been bidden to come at 10 of the Clock; for Sir Hilary and her Ladyship have taken to keeping rare Hours. Thereat was a goodly Company of about an hundred, and the Women all very fine, my Wife in her last Year's Gown, which I am tired of, and do hate to see. But did not tell her that, knowing she would have said how soon I might rid me of that Objection. We did fall to dancing Quadrilles, wherein I made one, and had for my Partner a pretty little black Damsel, whom after the Dance was ended, did hand to a Sofa, and thereon sit me by her Side; but seeing my Wife looking hard at us, did presently make my Bow, and go away. And, my Wife seated by the Wall, to walk about the Room, and speak with such as I thought like to tell me Something worth hearing, but told me Nothing I cared to hear, they all shunning to talk, and in their white Ties, and Waistcoats, and Kid Gloves, starch, and constrained, and ill at Ease, which was ridiculous. Then to look on while some did dance the Polka, which did please me not much, for had beheld it better danced at the Casino, and do think it more suitable to such a Place than to a Drawing Room. The Young Fellows did take their Partners by the Waist, and these did lean upon the other's Shoulders, and with one Arm stretched out, and holding Hand in Hand, they did spin round the Room together. But, Lack! to see the kicking up of Heels and stamping of them on the Ground, which did mightily remind me of Jim Crow. In Truth, I am told that the Polka is but a Peasant's Hop, from Hungary, and to think now of Persons of Quality cutting such Capers! Sir Hilary to his Taste; but a Minuet for me at Home, with Gentlewomen, and a Polka with Milkmaids at a Maying or Show Girls in a Booth. Meanwhile the Servants did hand round Glasses of Negus, which was poor Stuff; and those who listed to Supper when they chose, in a side Room, off wretched Sandwiches of the Size of the Triangles of Euclid his Geometry, which did think shabby. Expected Chicken and Lobster Salad, with Champagne, and Oysters and Ale and Stout, but disappointed. Home in a Cab, at Two in the Morning, much wearied and little pleased; and on our Way Home, spying a Tavern open, did go and get me a Pint of Beer, and the same to my Wife; for we were both athirst, and she in an ill Humour about the Beauty I had danced with, and I because of the bad Supper; and so very ill-contented to Bed.

      YE FASHONABLE WORLDE TAYKNGE ITS EXERCYSE IN HYDE PARKE

Tuesday, March 27th, 1849.

      This Day to the Ring in Hyde Park for a Walk to get me an Appetite, and look at the fine Folks and People of Fashion riding in their carriages, which it do much delight me to behold. But, good Lack! what a strange Notion of the Pleasure of a Drive; with the Carriages in a close Line jammed all together, and sometimes coming to a dead Stop like the Omnibuses in Fleet Street of an Afternoon, and seldom moving on faster than Mourning Coaches at a Funeral. Did see many mighty pretty young Ladies; and one sitting in a Landau with a Coronet on the Panel, upon whom I did smile, but perceiving that she did turn up her Nose at me, I did look glum; howbeit, another comely Damsel that I smiled at did blush and simper, which gave me Joy. It was as good as a Play to watch the young Guardsmen, with their Tufts and Mustaches, riding straight-legged, and them and the other Bucks taking off their Hats and kissing their Hands to the charming Belles as they passed them by. But it was rarer still to behold a Snob that strove to do the same Sort of Thing, and did get laughed at for his Pains. Then what Sport to observe the fat Coachmen, in their Wigs, something like Bishops', sitting on their Boxes, and the Footmen behind with their parti-coloured Liveries of drab and green, and red and yellow Plush, and gold-laced Hats, Shoulderknots and Cockades, bearing their Canes, and their Noses to the Sky, holding their Heads as high as Peacocks for Pride in their Frippery and plump Calves! These Fellows are as fine as Court Cards, and full as Ridiculous, and they do divert