Hypotheses non fingo:

I do not invent hypotheses.

Isaac Newton

'And all the men and women merely players'...

We are placed in this world, as in great theatre, where the sources and causes of every event are entirely concealed from us; nor have we either sufficient wisdom to foresee, or power to prevent those ills, with which we are continually threatened. We hang in perpetual suspence between life and death, health and sickness, plenty and want; which are distributed amongst the human species by secret and unknown causes, whose operation is oft unexpected, and always unaccountable.

David Hume, The Natural History of Religion (1757)

Weather Report

Holland is no more at present than a great leaky Man of War, tossing on the Ocean, and Mariners are forc'd to pump Night and Day to keep the Vessel above Water. I can assure you, without a Jest, that the Cellars and Canals have frequent Communication, and happy is he that can lodge in a Garret: There are Fellows planted on all the Steeples, with a considerable Reward to him that can make the first Land, tho' they had more Need to look out for a Rainbow; for without that I shall believe that God Almighty, in his Articles with Noah after the Flood, has excluded the Dutch out of the Treaty.

George Farquhar, letter from the Hague

Porn Budget:

£4.00 per annum

"You must be vastly mistaken in the article of £4 a year to C---l.* That had certainly been a properer article of my estimate; for the batchelor never gratifies his passion, but when nature of its own accord dictates; but when married, and it becomes an expected duty, there will, to preserve peace at home, be a greater occasion to have recourse to luscious books, to raise that passion, that by frequent repitition, and with the same object, would otherwise grow faint and languid."

Edward Ward - response to a critic of his Batchelor's Advocate

in his later book None but Fools Marry (1730)

*Edmund Curll was a publisher and bookseller, notorious for hack-work, literary piracy and pornography. He was attacked in print, most famously by Alexander Pope, imprisoned and even pilloried; but in the stocks was cheered rather than attacked by the mob, and when released was carried off on their shoulders.

Household economy:

Madam's pocket expenses throughout the year, for waterage, coach-hire, chair-hire, for visiting, and for going to operas, balls, plays, concerts, publick shews and spectacles, publick feasts,Vauxhall, Ranelagh, &c.

30 pounds

From: The Batchelor's Advocate: being, a Modest Estimate of the Expences attending the Married Life, Edward Ward 1729

The THIEF-TAKER:

'... he was a scandalous Person, a Thief-Taker... his House was a common receptacle for Thieves and Pick-Pockets.'

JACK will ever make a Gentleman:

This Proverb teaches, that every one will not make a Gentleman, that is vulgarly called so, now-a days: There is more than the bare Name required, to the making him what he ought to be by Birth, Honour and Merit: For let a Man get never so much Money to but an Estate, he cannot purchase one Grain of GENTILITY with it, but will remain JACK in the Proverb still, without Learning, Virtue, and Wisdom, to enrich the Faculties of the Mind, to inhance the Glory of his Wealth, and to ennoble the Blood; for put him into what Circumstance you please, he will discover himself one Time or other, in Point of Behaviour, to be of a mean Extract, awkward, ungenteel, and ungenerous, a Gentleman at Second-hand only, or a vain-gloious Upstart: For you cannot make a silken Purse of a Sow's Ear; Ex quovis ligno Mercurius non fit, say the Latins.

Nathan Bailey, Dictionary of Proverbs 1721

The Debtors' Prison

"For debt only are men condemned to languish in perpetual imprisonment, and to starve without mercy, redeemed only by the grave. Kings show mercy to traitors, to murderers and thieves... but in debt we are lost to this world. We cannot obtain the favour of being hanged or transported, but our lives must linger within the walls, till released by the grave."

Daniel Defoe, bankrupted in 1692 with debts of £17,000 incurred in his trade as a merchant. He was jailed numerous times for debt, once for four months.

The Writers' Code:

[A man] should write so as he may live by [his labours], not so as he may be knocked on the head. I would advise him to be at Calais before he publishes.

Samuel Johnson

Jailhouse Rock

A single Jail, in ALFRED'S golden Reign,

Could half the Nation's Criminals contain;

Fair Justice then, without Constraint ador'd,

Sustain'd the Ballance, but resign'd the Sword;

No Spies were paid, no Special Juries known,

Blest Age! But ah! how diff'rent from our own!

Samuel Johnson, London: A Poem (1738)

At ye Haymarket

Pasquin's benefit ticket, William Hogarth

BENEFIT-nights

Yearly - or twice-yearly - occasions when a player or other member of a theatre company would reap the profits of one night's box office receipts. The person receiving the benefit would sell some of the tickets themselves, as a good benefit night could nearly double a player's annual income.
William Hogarth, engraved ticket for Joe Miller's Benefit

Wager arrested

Twas as much as we could do to get Wager Home, though: I made a Man ride behind him, for he was very unruly, pulling the Horse about, making Motions with his Hands at every Body that came near him, as if he was firing a Pistol, crying Phoo!

From The Old Bailey Proceedings, deposition of James Barnes (arresting officer) to the court December 8th 1736

A Policeman's Job...

... is not an easy one:

Deposition of arresting officer to the court at the trial of the highwayman Edward Bonner, September 8th 1736.

Bonner's partner, William Wager (known as Cocky) had not yet been caught.

Bonner was condemned to death for assaulting Samuel Hasswel on the King's highway, putting him in fear, and stealing from him.

I serv'd the Warrant upon Bonner. I knew he was a desperate Fellow, so I got 2 or 3 to assist me. I took him at the Black-Spread-Eagle Alehouse in Paternoster-Row, on the Information of the Coachman. [I found him] in a dark Room, and 2 or 3 Women were with him.

We took him to Sir Richard Brocas's, but he not being ready, we had him to the Bull-head [Tavern] till the Alderman could give us a hearing.
He seem'd very uneasy, and I was uneasy too; while we were there, a lusty Carpenter - one of his Associates - and 2 or 3 more came in, and Bonner said to them, "have you brought Pistols and Hangers? If you have, fall to: fire, and away."
However, I got Bonner to Sir Richard's first, and because we cou'd not get the People there, he was to be re-examin'd; and when we got the Coachman and him together, that they might see one another, the Coachman said: "out of a thousand that is the Man, I remember his quick Speech."
Bonner was in his Butcher's Livery, and he asked the Coachman if he knew him: "Aye," says the Coachman, "if I had never seen you, I should have had no Trouble with you," then he described Wager; and Cocky is the most remarkable Man in the World.

From The Old Bailey Proceedings

THIEF-Takers,

who make a Trade of helping People (for a Gratuity) to their lost Goods and sometimes, for Interest, or Envy, snapping the Rogues themselves, being usually in Fee with them, and acquainted with their Haunts.

Scenography:

An ancient Greek method to create an illusion of depth on stage by using a series of flat panels.

Perspective

Whoever makes a Design, without the Knowledge of Perspective, will be liable to such Absurdities as are shown in this Frontispiece.

William Hogarth

The Ghost of a Little Shop

... I remember especially a small grocery shop that had survived miraculously enough in a court off Leadenhall Street. Banks and insurance houses towered up around, and the only other domestic link with the City's past was in the adjoining court, an ancient chop-house believed to be the last in London to give up the use of pewter plates. It seemed as unlikely there as a child's bassinette or a collie dog. On certain days in that deep court, where the light filters down from projection to projection, it is like the ghost of a little shop that once was there in the homely era of the City.
But it is real enough, and so is the proprietor, a sensible man with no illusions, who sells all sorts of things from pickled cucumber and tumblers for parties on Lord Mayor's Show day to smuggled cigars. Of course, the cigars came lawfully enough to him; he buys them at the sales by order of H.M. Customs of tobacco seized from the contrabandists, but if you look into it you'll find most of his wares have a curious and interesting tag. Great bankers and walk-clerks and office-boys are among his customers, and he must hear a good deal about what is doing in the world of finance.
The legend on the shop reads:

'Established in 1723.'

[A friend of mine] could not discover the day and the month, so he had perforce to wait until the year had ended. Then with eagerness he repaired to the little shop, wished the shopman good day, tried a scrubbing brush, bought a bottle of gherkins and a smuggled cigar, and discussed the price of apples. He had not been so happy since one of Twining's shopmen told him that when he was young he was allowed to go down below to test teas on his birthday.

James Bone, The London Perambulator (1925)

The Infant Office

"There is an Infant Office to aid these women towards a pathetic appearance. One woman hired no less than four infants for the day. Two she packed behind her like a Scotch pedlar's budget; the third was to run by her side bawling for victuals; the fourth she held in her arms like a tuneable instrument to be set to music when she came in view of any seemingly well disposed people."

To be delivered or left...

... at each Inhabitant's House:

SIR,

The Pavement before your house being out of Repair and complaint being made thereof These are to give you notice that you do forthwith cause the same to be repayred and amended and that you appear by yourself, servant or Agent before the Steward of Westminster on Tuesday the fourth day of December next at the Town Court House near Westminster Hall at ten of the clock in the Morning to make Oath thereof or otherwise you will be convicted for the same and penalties will be levied upon you by distress according to the Statute in that case made and provided.

Dated 10th Novr 1711

This early notice is given you out of respect to you to prevent the said trouble and expense.

Masquerade

The first originall ground of Cheating is, a counterfeit countenance in all things: a study to seem to be, & not to be in deed. And because no great deceit can be wrought but where special trust goes before, therefore the cheater when he pitches his hay to purchase his profit enforces all his wits to win credit & opinion of his honesty, and uprightness.

A Manifest Detection of Diceplay, Gilbert Walker (1550)

The more things a man is ashamed of, the more respectable he is.

George Bernard Shaw

Twelve Hungry Men

After a trial: 'the jury... retire into a room where they have no light and no food, and here they must remain until they are unanimous as to whether the accused is guilty or innocent. I am told that there have been cases of eleven out of the twelve jurymen being convinced of the guilt of the accused and condemning him, whilst the one who wished to save him has insisted on declaring him innocent, and after remaining an entire day and even two without food, forcing the others to come round to his opinion; but such a case is extremely rare.'

Cesar de Saussure

Gentility is...

Artificial, and for the seizing by any highway robber: "An Art as would forever make him a Gentleman." James Clavell (pardoned highwayman, 1634)

Something achieved through force of will: "It's my intent to be a gentleman. It's my game." Rigaud (Little Dorrit, Charles Dickens, 1857)

A matter of ease, if you have the money for it: ..."to be drunk, swear, wench, follow the fashion, and to do just nothing." Henry Peacham (curate, 1622)




"Now that a man may make money, and rise in the world, and associate himself, unreproached, with people once far above him... it becomes a veritable shame to him to remain in the state he was born in and everybody thinks it his DUTY to try to be a 'gentleman'." John Ruskin (Pre-Raphaelitism, 1851)

Money Matters

A son may bear with equanimity the loss of his father, but the loss of his inheritance may drive him to despair.

Niccolo Machiavelli

Triptych

Visuals are hugely important to me, especially when beginning a book.

Once they've been in your head a while you can take their features for granted, like those of old friends; but it took quite a search before I was happy that I had found faces for three of my central characters.

Hogarth's tableaux always form my mental backdrop for 18th century London, but for more intimate portraiture I have pillaged the works of Joshua Reynolds, transforming his portrait of Joseph Banks into the 'young' Archie Pullen (left); Mrs. Charles Ogilvie into Charley, a Drury Lane actress (centre); and real-life actress Mrs. Abington into Porzia, a woman of mystery (right)...

A Royal Visit

In 1730, the British papers recorded with great interest the visit of a delegation of Cherokee Indians who had been enticed over by the Scottish baronet Alexander Cumming.

12 June - Daily Journal

Seven Kings or Chiefs of the Chirakee Indians, bordering upon Carolina, are come over in the Fox Man of War, Capt. Arnold, in order to pay their duty to his Majesty, and assure him of their attachment to his person and Government, &c.

After being dismissed from the Mermaid Tavern, Windsor for fighting, they moved to central London. While seeing the sights they lodged with Mr. Arne, an undertaker in King street by Covent-Garden, who'd been recommended to them by four chiefs who had visited Britain twenty years before.

In English dress, walking in St. James's Park.

3 October - Daily Journal

Yesterday about 8 o’clock in the morning the Indian Chiefs set out from their lodgings in King-Street, Covent-Garden, for Portsmouth, where they will go aboard his Majesty’s Ship the Fox, Capt. Arnold, which is to carry them to Carolina.

We are told that on Tuesday evening last, when the time of their departure drew near, Oukah Ulah, the Chief of them, expressed a great inclination to stay with Sir Alexander Cuming; and when Sir Alexander told him that it would not be proper, he wept, and said he should mourn always till he saw him again, and that he had not slept for three nights, but walk’d about the streets, for thinking on parting with Sir Alexander, for whose sake he had left both his wife and children.

But Sir Alexander telling him, that he would be of more service to his Majesty King George and the English, by returning to his own country, he answered, That as Sir Alexander desired it, he would do as he bid him.

Although they reached Charleston safely in mid-December, they arrived in the middle of a war between the Cherokees and the Americans which delayed their return home.

Sorry for the silence

Sorry about the lack of postings - I've had problems accessing the internet for the past few days, but will make up with a mega-posting bonanza now that these have been sorted.

... Gone Tomorrow

In Captain Lord George Graham in his Cabin (1745) we see in one gathering all the different options for masculine coiffure:

A dark bob-wig:Short hair (with naval uniform beret):


Short hair (with cook's cap):


A shaved-headed nobleman in velvet hat:

And a Pug in his Perruke:

Hair today...

The Hogarth exhibition is superb, and I urge you all to go. He is a gift to the researcher because his observation is so detailed - like a reportage photographer of today, he was so anxious to direct his satirical beam into every dark corner of human behaviour that he inevitably captured mundane life in all its complexity and absurdity. Rituals and routines are preserved - often in some unimportant corner of a scene - that would otherwise be lost to us.

In the 18th century, there was a choice: to wear a wig or to wear your own hair. A wig was of course practical - especially when the shorter bob-wigs replaced the full head-and-shoulders Restoration-style perrukes, which persisted into the first decades of the C18th. Nevertheless, even short curled wigs required styling by barbers or hairdressers, and when powdered hair became de rigeur it could be quite a messy business.

If you wore a wig, then you shaved your head, and wore some sort of soft cap or head-covering while at home.



If you wore your own hair, you still had to have it styled. This nobleman with the luxuriant ponytail (from The Countess's Morning Levee) has had his front-curls set in papers.


Below, we see the process in action on the countess herself, and the tongs (often heated in a small portable brazier) which are used to fix the curl.

Down the Boozer

I gain'd the Barr by several Essays,
Where Mourning Widow sat with doleful Face...
I turn'd to the Left, and did amongst them squeeze,
There heard some Belch, some Fart, and others Sneeze,
Buzzing and Humming like a Hive of Bees.
This Room I did for ease and cleanness chuse,
The Chappel call'd, from having Seats like Pews,
Where grizzled Sots sit Nodding oe'r the News...
One Gapes, a Second Nods, a Third he Winks,
A fourth he Smoaks, a Fifth blows Pipe and Drinks,
Not one in Ten that either Talks or Thinks,
Thus seldom speak, unless 'tis to complain
Of Phthisick, Stone, the Gout, or some old Pain,
That grieves them sorely, when the Moon's i'th'Wane.

Ned Ward
Sot's Paradise or The Humours of a Derby Ale-House (1700)

An Enlightened Insult:

"I think her an ugly, ungenteel, squinting, flirting, impudent, odious, dirty Puss."

Henry Fielding, The Modern Husband

Fielding's Choice

Henry Fielding was a man of many parts: novelist, playwright and (later) co-inventor of London's first professional police force, the Bow Street Runners.

Nevertheless, as a youth born to an impoverished but aristocratic family, he had felt that his choices in life were limited.

'I will have to become,' he declared, 'either a Hackney Writer or a Hackney Coachman.'

Quiet, please!

Found, in the British Library:

MS Add. 70963 ff. 80-81

Lock of Hair of Miss Thistlethwayte, with note, dated 1775.

If you look on the British Library catalogue at http://www.bl.uk/ you will see Miss Thistlethwayte's hair listed among the manuscripts. It was found tucked in a pouch at the back of an 1816 diary.

Let no-one say that librarians aren't deeply romantic!

The question is: shall I request it and read her note, and see her hair? This is not the real lock above, but my recreation. My feeling is that, unopened - like the box containing Mr. Schrodinger's cat - it prompts mysteries and stories that would only disappear in the light of its reality.

SHE-TRAGEDY:

A play, central to whose plot is the suffering of a female protagonist.

Stage Fright

When Charlotte first appeared on the stage, full of youthful exuberance, she "had no Concern at all" and mocked her fellow actors for their nerves.

Her sister-in-law, the actress Jane, rebuked her for her arrogance: "When you have stood as many Shocks as others have done, and are more acquainted with your Business, you'll possibly be more susceptible of Fear."

After a few years at her profession, now given lead roles ('capital parts'), Charlotte found that Jane's prophecy came to pass:

By this Time I began to FEEL I FEARED; and the [former] want of it was sufficiently paid home to me, in the Tremor of Spirits I suffered in such daring Attempts. However, Fortune was my Friend, and I escaped with Life; for I solemnly declare, that I expected to make an odd Figure in the Bills of Mortality --

DIED ONE, OF CAPITAL CHARACTERS

Pretty Polly

To Jonathon Swift, Efq.

The D. of Bolton I hear hath run away with Polly Peachum, having settled 400£ a year upon her during pleasure, & upon disagreement 200£ a year.

John Gay

The first actress to play Polly Peachum, innocent lover of highway-man Macheath in Gay's Beggar's Opera, was Lavinia Fenton.

The play - arguably the greatest hit of the 18th century stage - had been rejected by Colley Cibber for Drury Lane as being too expensive and too bizarre to be a success; though when it proved to be a hit he was later to stage it there.

It therefore received its first staging at Lincoln’s Inn Fields on 29 January 1728, where it was described as 'A Newgate Pastoral, among Whores and Thieves.'

The Duke of Bolton first attended the play in April, though he was to become a regular visitor, night after night, having been very taken by the young actress playing Polly. He even brought his wife to a performance. He only stopped attending on June 22, when Lavinia's name was removed from the playbill.

The reason for her disappearance from the cast was that the Duke had persuaded her to become his mistress, on the generous terms specified by Gay in the letter above. This she was happily for the next twenty-three years until, on the death of his wife, the Duke married her, making her his Duchess.

Cross-dressing

David Garrick, as Sir John Brute in Vanbrugh's Provoked Wife, Theatre Royal, Drury Lane
Johann Zoffany, 1763

The Actors' Dilemma

For tho’ we Actors, one and all, agree

Boldly to struggle for our -- vanity,

If want comes on, importance must retreat;

Our first great ruling passion is - to eat.

David Garrick, Occasional Prologue (1750, Drury Lane)

On the Bill

The Daily Courant trumpets a typical evening's theatrical entertainment for 1703:

At the Theatre in Dorset Gardens …will be presented a Farce call’d The Cheats of Scapin. And a Comedy of two acts only call’d The Comical Rivals, or the School Boy. With several Italian Sonatas by Signor Gasperini and others. And the Devonshire Girl, being now upon her return from the City of Exeter, will perform … several Dances, … and the Whip of Dunboyne by Mr. Claxton her Master, being the last time of their Performance till Winter. And at the desire of several persons of Quality (hearing that Mr. Pinkethman hath hired the two famous French Girls lately arriv’d from the Emperor’s Court) They will perform several dances upon the Rope upon the Stage being improv’d to that Degree far exceeding all others in that Art. And their Father presents you with the Newest Humours of Harlequin as perform’d by him before the Grand Signor at Constantinople. Also the famous Mr. Evans lately arrived from Vienna will show you wonders of another kind, Vaulting on the Manag’d Horse, being the greatest Master of that Kind in the World.

Dorset Gardens was managed by Christopher Rich and was the Thames-side sister house to Drury Lane. Rich was ever-hungry for spectacle: the 'Devonshire Girl' was put on the bill to try to pull the crowds from the Lincoln's Inn Fields play-house, who were showing the hugely popular 'Mademoiselle Sevigny,' a French dancer.

Rich also seriously considered purchasing an extraordinarily large elephant to use in their productions. According to Colley Cibber, he was only prevented by the jealousy of his dancers at the prospect of being so monstrously upstaged and the fear of his bricklayers that to make an entrance for the beast required moving so much of the wall that the theatre would collapse.

Thomas de Veil

Sir Thomas de Veil, JP, was a pioneer in the art of detecting crime.

An unpaid magistrate based - like Pullen - in the City of Westminster, from 1739 onwards he investigated the crimes brought before him for trial at his house in Bow Street, which he established as a magistrate's court.

He belonged to the same Masonic lodge (Jerusalem Lodge) as the artist William Hogarth, who mocks him in the engraving 'Night', set in the street outside the Vine Tavern, where they met. De Veil is depicted still wearing the collar and jewel that distinguish him as Master of the Lodge. As we see in the detail below, the drunk JP, shamefully soaked by the contents of a discarded chamber-pot, is helped home by the Lodge's Grand Tyler, Andrew Montgomery.

Hogarth is thought to be poking fun at Veil, who he had publicly argued with on more than one occasion. De Veil was notoriously strict on drunkards and was involved in the legislation banning the trade in gin, at the time as great a matter for public concern as heroin or crack today.

Johnson gets the Giggles

Johnson could not stop his merriment, but continued it all the way till he got without the Temple-gate. He then burst into such a fit of laughter, that he appeared to be almost in a convulsion; and, in order to support himself, laid hold of one of the posts at the side of the foot pavement, and sent forth peals so loud, that in the silence of the night his voice seemed to resound from Temple-bar to Fleet-ditch.

(1773, when Johnson was 64)
James Boswell, Life of Johnson

Wanted: Room in Shared House

Dr. Sam Johnson's heart was, it seems, as "approaching to the gigantick" as every other part of him.

Even before the death of his wife, he opened his doors to a great variety of needy friends - a reformed prostitute, an alcoholic doctor of the poor, his wife's former companion, a blind poetess, and a young black boy who he treated as an adopted son.

Like the 'Big Brother' house, this random assortment of beings failed to find social cohesion, and rather than providing their benefactor with a harmonious household spent all their time bickering and quarreling. As Johnson laments in a letter of 1778:

We have tolerable Concord at Home, but no Love. Williams hates Everybody; Levet hates Desmoulins, and does not love Williams; Desmoulins hates them both; Poll loves none of these.

On Sunday Morning...

... a well-dressed Woman came into the George Alehouse by St. George's Church and called for a Pint of Ale; and while a Servant was gone to draw it, she snatched up a Knife, stept backwards and cut her Throat therewith; but her Motions being seen by the Servant, a Surgeon was presently called in to her Assistance, who sewed up the Wound; but it's supposed she cannot live.

Lancashire Journal - September 18, 1738

Marriage a la Mode

[My Husband] John doe thynk he bee such a grett Man, butt Lord hee be juste a grete bigge Sillie.

Anne Hughes, Housewife
Diary 1796

On Dissection

"... Though possessed of an interest in the subject you may perhaps be deterred by natural repugnance, or if this does not restrain you then perhaps by the fear of passing the night in the company of these corpses, quartered and flayed, and horrible to behold."

Leonardo da Vinci

The College of Barber Surgeons' Hall

9 April 1730

The Anatomical Theatre at Surgeon’s hall, built by Inigo Jones about an hundred years ago, and esteemed the most commodious structure in Europe for the purpose, being out of repair, after several estimates given in by builders, who from the peculiarity of the structure very much differ’d about the manner and expence of repairing it, the Earl of Burlington was last week requested to survey it, who not only directed the only proper way of repairing it, and that at a much less expence than by any of the other estimates, but also out of his regard to that great English Architect, and to the generous encouragement he is always ready to afford to maintain the memory and productions of the Artists in every profession, ordeed it to be forthwith repaired by one of his own builders at his own expence.

The Grub-street Journal

A London Day for Pepys

Friday 18 January 1660

The Captains went with me to the post-house about 9 o’clock, and after a morning draft I took horse and guide for London; and through some rain, and a great wind in my face, I got to London at eleven o’clock.

At home found all well, but the monkey loose, which did anger me, and so I did strike her till she was almost dead, that they might make her fast again, which did still trouble me more.

In the afternoon we met at the office and sat till night, and then I to see my father who I found well, and took him to Standing’s to drink a cup of ale. He told me my aunt at Brampton is yet alive and my mother well there.

In comes Will Joyce to us drunk, and in a talking vapouring humour of his state, and I know not what, which did vex me cruelly. After him Mr. Hollier had learned at my father’s that I was here (where I had appointed to meet him) and so he did give me some things to take for prevention. Will Joyce not letting us talk as I wanted, I left my father and him and took Mr. Hollier to the Greyhound, where he did advise me above all things, both as to the stone and the decay of my memory (of which I now complain to him), to avoid drinking often, which I am resolved, if I can, to leave off.

Hence home, and took home with me from the bookseller’s Ogilby’s AEsop, which he had bound for me, and indeed I am very much pleased with the book. Home and to bed.

The Canter's Serenade

Ye Morts and ye Dells
Come out of your Cells,
And charm all the Palliards about ye ;
Here Birds of all Feathers,
Through deep Roads and all Weathers,
Are gathered together to toute ye.

With Faces of Wallnut,
And Bladder and Smallgut,
We're come scraping and singing to rouse ye;
Rise, shake off your Straw,
And prepare you each Maw
To kiss, eat, and drink till you're bouzy.

1725

Racing Times 2

24 September 1726 -- The British Gazetteer

Gloucester, Sept. 17: On Tuesday last arrived here, from Worcester, Mr. Rice, in his Chair drawn by four Dogs; and, tho’ the Roads were rendered very bad for Travelling, by reason of the great Rains, yet he came to this City about two o’clock the same Afternoon.

And, we hear, he intends to stay at our Castle a short time, in order to gratify those who are lovers of Curiosity; whither Abundance of Gentlemen and Ladies daily resort to see this new Method of Carriage; which is very wonderful.

The Racing Times

Mist's Weekly Journal -- 6 November 1725

Gloucester, Nov. 1: We had very good Diversion this day upon Snow-Hill-Course, between two in that Neighbourhood; the one of which rode a Bullock, which was to trot, the other a Mare, to pace a Mile, for ten Guineas.

Neither of them had either Bridle, Saddle, or Whip; all jockeying was allowed; the Concourse was very great, and the Entertainment answer’d Expectation.

In the Cockpit

William Hogarth, The Cockpit (1759)

This engraving shows the cockpit at Birdcage walk, though numerous other pits existed in London and Westminster, including ones in Drury Lane and Jewin Street. The Royal pit at Whitehall - the same visited by James Boswell - was presided over by the King's Cock-master.

A Grand Day Out

Wednesday 15 December 1762

The enemies of the people of England who would have them considered in the worst light represent them as selfish, beef-eaters, and cruel. In this view I resolved today to be a true-born Old Englishman. I went to the City to Dolly's Steak-house in Paternoster Row and swallowed my dinner by myself to fulfill the charge of selfishness; I had a large fat beefsteak to fulfil the charge of beef-eating; and I went at five o'clock to the Royal Cockpit in St. James' Park and saw cock-fighting for about five hours to fulfill the charge of cruelty.

A beefsteak-house is a most excellent place to dine at. You come in there to a warm, comfortable room, where a number of people are sitting at table. You take whatever place you find empty; call for what you like, which you get well and cleverly dressed. You may either chat or not as you like. Nobody minds you and you pay very reasonably. My dinner (beef, bread and beer and [a penny for the] waiter) was only a shilling. The waiters make a great deal of money by these pennies...

At five I filled my pockets with gingerbread and apples (quite the method), put on my old clothes and laced hat, laid by my watch, purse and pocket-book, and with oaken stick in my hand sallied to the pit. I was too soon there. So I went to a low inn, sat down amongst a parcel of arrant blackguards, and drank some beer. The sentry near the house had been very civil in showing me the way. It was very cold. I bethought myself of the poor fellow, so I carried out a pint of beer myself to him. He was very thankful, and drank my health cordially. He told me his name was Hobard, that he was a watch-maker but in distress for debt, and enlisted that his creditors might not touch him.

I then went to the Cockpit, which is a circular room in the middle of which the cocks fight. It is seated with rows gradually rising. The pit and the seats are all covered with mat. The cocks, nicely cut and dressed and armed with silver heels [spurs], are set down and fight with amazing bitterness and resolution. Some of them were quickly dispatched. One pair fought three quarters of an hour. The uproar and noise of betting is prodigious. A great deal of money made a very quick circulation from hand to hand.

There was a number of professed gamblers there. An old cunning dog whose face I had seen at Newmarket sat by me a while. I told him I knew nothing of the matter. "Sir," said he, "you have as good a chance as anybody." He thought I would be a good subject for him. I was young-like. But he found himself balked.

I was shocked to see the distraction and anxiety of the betters. I was sorry for the poor cocks. I looked round to see if any of the spectators pitied them when mangled and torn in a most cruel manner, but I could not observe the smallest relenting sign in any countenance. I was therefore not ill-pleased to see them endure mental torment.

Thus did I complete my true English day, and came home pretty much fatigued and pretty much confounded at the strange turn of this people.

James Boswell

(A Scot)

The Votaries of Covent Garden

Wandering over Covent Garden Piazza at any time of day - Hogarth's engraving above is entitled 'morning' - you'd be likely to encounter a fair number of young ladies at a loose end: as James Boswell described them in his London journals "the civil nymph... who will resign her engaging person to your honour for a pint of wine and a shilling."

Then as now, the profession was divided into grades of respectability and was priced accordingly, from the 'tuppeny uprights' against the wall offered by gin-sodden trulls to the guineas charged by those who worked from home, and whose addresses were numbered in Harris's List of Covent Garden Ladies.

'Harris's List' was born when an impoverished hack named Sam Derrick paid Jack Harris, self-styled 'Pimp-General-of-All-England', for the use of his name. Under this pseudonym Derrick compiled a guidebook to London's baser pleasures between 1757 and 1795. Like all the best stocking-fillers or toilet books, it was released annually each Christmas.

A representative entry from the 1793 volume includes:

Mifs B--lford, Titchfield-street

The British fair to manly hearts inclin'd,

Their passions open and their souls unbind,

'Tis nature prompts, what harm can be in this,

To give and take from each the balmy kiss.

This child of love looks very well when drest. She is rather subject to fits, alias counterfeits, very partial to a Pantomime Player at Covent Garden Theatre. She may be about nineteen, very genteel, with a beautiful neck and chest, and most elegantly moulded breasts, her eyes are wonderfully piercing and expressive. She is always lively, merry, and cheerful, and will give you such convincing proofs of her attachment to love's game, that if you leave one guinea behind, you will certainly be tempted to renew your visits.

First Cut is the Deepest

In researching a novel that's all about perspective, it's good to look for murder weapons that might not resemble conventional weaponry - although, in the C18th, any doctor might do you more harm than good.

FLEAM: a sharp lancet for bloodletting.

SCALPEL: a knife used in surgical dissection.

LANCET: a surgical knife with a short, wide, two-edged blade.

Poetry in Motion

Worry not, Mr. Motion: in the 18th century as now, the post of Poet Laureate did not require filling by a skilled versifier.

In 1736, Henry Fielding staged his play Pasquin at the New Theatre, also known as the Little Haymarket.

To cast the play to its fullest satirical potential, it was crucial that Fielding poach Charlotte Charke from Drury Lane. He had written a particular part with her in mind: that of Lord Place.

Dressed in a vast curled wig, gaudy embroidered breeches and coat, and as much lace as can be fixed to a body, Charlotte minced and pranced across the stage, parodying the vain twits (such as Lord Foppington in both Love's Last Shift and The Relapse) her father was famous for playing.

Not content with deflating Colley's prowess onstage, Fielding and Charlotte also failed to spare his vanity with regard to his poetical skills as Poet Laureat (a matter of public derision among Britain's writers and poets).

SECOND VOTER: My Lord, I should like a place at Court too; I don't much care what it is, provided I wear fine clothes and have something to do in the kitchen or the cellar; I own I should like the cellar, for I am a devilish lover of sack.

LORD PLACE: Sack, say you? Odso, you shall be poet-laureat.

SECOND VOTER: Poet! no, my Lord, I am no poet, I can't make verses.

LORD PLACE: No matter for that - you'll be able to make odes.

SECOND VOTER: Odes, my Lord! what are those?

LORD PLACE: Faith, sir, I can't tell well what they are; but I know you may be qualified for the place without being a poet.

Higgins the Contortionist:

'turns himself into such a Variety of Shapes and Figures, that the Particulars would be incredible to all Persons who have not seen him.'

On stage at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane 1709-10

Beneath the Mask

A man who has pass'd above forty years of his life upon a theatre, where he has never appear'd to be himself, may have naturally excited the curiosity of his spectators to know what he really was, when in no body's shape but his own.

Colley Cibber

The Authoress at Home

In 1754, Charlotte was visited by the printer, Samuel Whyte, and a bookseller friend, presumably H. Slater, junior, who were interested in publishing her novel, Henry Dumont. By this stage she had descended into extreme poverty.

The visit made a deep enough impression on Whyte that he wrote it up in an article for The Monthly Review, 1760:

The first object that presented itself was a dresser - clean, it must be confessed, and furnished with three or four coarse delft plates, two brown platters and underneath an earthen pipkin, and a black pitcher with a snip out of it.

To the right we perceived and bowed to the mistress of the mansion, sitting on a maimed chair under the mantelpiece, by a fire merely sufficient to put us in mind of starving. On one hob sat a monkey, which by way of welcome chattered at our going in. On the other a tabby cat of melancholy aspect. At our author’s feet, on the flounce of her dingy petticoat, reclined a dog, almost a skeleton! He raised his shagged head and eagerly staring with his bleared eyes, saluted us with a snarl.

"Have done, Fidele, these are friends!" The tone of her voice was not harsh, it had something in it humbled and disconsolate; a mingled effort of authority and pleasure. Poor soul! Few were her visitors of that description. No wonder the creature barked!

A magpie perched on the top ring of her chair, not an uncomely ornament, and on her lap was placed a mutilated pair of bellows - the pipe was gone, an advantage in their present office. They served as a succedaneum for a writing desk, on which lay displaced her hopes and treasure, the manuscript of her novel Henry Dumont. Her inkstand was a broken teacup, the pen worn to a stump - she had but one! A rough deal board, with three hobbling supporters, was brought for our convenience, on which, without further ceremony, we contrived to sit down and enter upon business.

The work was read, remarks made, alterations agreed to, and thirty guineas demanded for the copy.

To Mrs. C. Charke

Charlotte's decision to live publicly as a man led to being disowned by her father and siblings. She sustained herself through many careers with variable success, but increasingly found it hard to support herself and her 'wife,' 'Mrs. Brown.' Swallowing her pride she wrote to her Colley, but he rebuffed her:

21 September

Madam,

The Strange Career which you have run for some years (a Career not always unmarked by Evil) debars my affording you the Succour which otherwise would naturally have been extended to you as my Daughter.

I must refuse therefore—with this Advice—try Theophilus.

Yours in Sorrow,
Colley Cibber

A Proper Charlie

Charlotte Charke, daughter of theatre impresario Colley Cibber, lived a notorious life. Among her occupations she numbered grocer, puppeteer, valet, sausage maker and seller, publican, waiter, gardener, pastry-cook, hog merchant, playwright, novellist and proof reader. But it was as an actress that she was most famous.

Charlotte was known for taking 'travesty parts' - fully male characters, such as Macheath in Gray's Beggar's Opera, as opposed to 'breeches parts,' where women-play-women-pretending-to-be-men; the kind of feisty lady-boy that Shakespeare delighted in creating.

In later life, Charlotte lived openly as a man, Charles Brown; but she first developed her passion for transvesticisim at the age of four. Her autobiography describes how she stole downstairs early one morning before the house was awake and put on her brother’s waistcoat and "an enormous bushy Tie-Wig of my Father’s, which entirely enclos’d my Head and Body"— using "the Help of a long Broom" to get them off their pegs.

To this she added "a monstrous Belt and large Silver-hilted Sword, that I could scarce drag along" and "one of my Father’s large Beaver-hats, laden with Lace, as thick and as broad as a Brickbat".

All dressed up, she left the house and paraded the street near her home, "bowing to all who came by me", until discovered by her family. Though aware that to the onlookers she was a curiosity, Charlotte thoroughly enjoyed the attention: "the Oddity of my Appearance soon assembled a Croud about me; which yielded me no small Joy." She "walk’d myself into a Fever, in the happy Thought of being taken for the 'Squire.'"

An Actor's Life

I think going a Strolling is engaging in a little, dirty kind of War, in which I have been obliged to fight so many Battles, I have resolutely determined to throw down my Commission.

And to say Truth, I am not only sick, but heartily ashamed of it, as I have had nine Years Experience of its being a very contemptible Life; render'd so, through the impudent and ignorant Behaviour of the Generality of those who pursue it; and I think it would be more reputable to earn a Groat a Day in Cinder-sifting at Tottenham-Court, than to be concerned with them.

Charlotte Cibber Charke

A Narrative of her Life

An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber

You know, sir, I have often told you, that one time or other I should give the publick some memoirs of my own life; at which you have never fail'd to laugh, like a friend, without saying a word to dissuade me of it; concluding, I suppose, that such a wild thought could not possibly require a serious answer.

But you see I was in earnest. And now you will say, the world will find me, under my own hand, a weaker man than perhaps I may have pass'd for, even among my enemies. --

With all my heart! my enemies will then read me with pleasure, and you, perhaps, with envy, when you find that follies, without the reproach of guilt upon them, are not inconsistent with happiness.

-- But why make my follies publick? Why not? I have pass'd my time very pleasantly with them, and I don't recollect that they have ever been hurtful to any other man living.

Colley Cibber
actor; playwright;
manager of Theatre Royal, Drury Lane;
and Poet Laureate.

Novemb. 6, 1739