Pullen

When they were Young

2009-06-03T12:44:00.006Z

Archelaus, my hero, is 19 in 1720, the year that Pullen is set. The illegitimate child of a nobleman and a theatrical performer, Archie has never met his father, who dies shortly after the novel opens.

As I want him to gradually develop enough feeling for this man he's never known to want to avenge his death, it is important that he gain some sense of him. So in the course of visiting an old friend of his father's, Archie will see a set of miniatures painted in about 1676, when his father would himself have been nineteen - and on the Grand Tour with his friend Ervin.

It was customary for young men to have themselves depicted in full classical antic mode, with ruined columns, rent curtains, toga-type gowns and bits of armour. I wouldn't imagine - no matter what the skill of that year's modish artist - that it was always easy to make a young man look good like this:

(Nicholaes Maes, Portrait of a Young Man, 1676)

But for every ten chaps who looked a bit burkish, there was always one who managed to look cool no matter what get-up he was shown in:

(Unknown artist, John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester, c. 1665-75)

Archie, who is not immune to a bit of vanity, will have his first throb of fellow-feeling for his father when he sees how much they are alike.

Tell it to the Bees

2009-06-02T17:14:00.002Z

It's not often that I descend from the 18thC to the present day, but even I'm willing to make the trip for my friend Fiona's latest novel (her fourth) - Tell it to the Bees (publ. Tindal Street).

Told through the eyes of a young boy, Charlie, growing up in the 1950s, it is the story of the dissolution of a marriage and development of a love. It is subtly and gently told, and utterly gripping. I read it in two sittings.

If you've just finished a book or are looking for a present for someone else, I couldn't recommend it highly enough if it were my own!

Sarah Churchill on the Credit Crunch:

2009-05-30T21:00:00.003Z

Among those who sold their shares in the South Sea Co. and made a killing before it all went chalk-outline-of-banker-on-the-pavement shaped, was Sarah Churchill (née Jenyns), Duchess of Marlborough.

Her Duke, the victor of Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde and Malplaquet, may, as she reported, have on his return "pleasured her twice in his top boots", but financially she wore the trousers. It was she who built Blenheim palace and its grounds, and amassed a vast and lasting fortune.

Her punditry is as pertinent today as it was in 1720:

"Every mortal that has common sense or that knows anything of figures, sees that 'tis not possible by all the arts and tricks upon earth long to carry £400,000,000 of paper credit with £15,000,000 of specie. This makes me think that this project must burst in a little while and fall to nothing."

Scandal-broth: Tea

2009-05-29T10:57:00.004Z

Might it be for more than Fashion, that the lovely Mrs. H-- H-- H-- has recently shown herself so taken by her new Turban-Hat, from which neither Sun, Rain nor ingallant Breezes can part her?

We have heard that her Attachment to the outlandish Headgear is due to an unfortunate Circumstance - the lady has lost the Wealth of lustrous Curls for which she was rightly famed. Nature is not to be upgraded for this barbarity, however; but rather Mammon.

Her husband, whose debts to Dame Fortune and the Beauties of the Bagnio have made the name H-- H-- a Byword for bad Credit, deserves some degree of Censure. His Lady found it necessary to offer her Tresses on the open Market in order to have anything to serve their Guests at a forthcoming Party.

Swift on the Credit Crunch:

2009-05-27T12:15:00.002Z

..."How will the caitiff wretch be scared
When first he finds himself awake
At the last trumpet, unprepared,
And all his grand account to make!

For in that universal call,
Few bankers will to Heav'n be mounters:
They'll cry, 'Ye shops, upon us fall!
Conceal and cover us, ye counters.'"

Jonathan Swift, The Run upon the Bankers (repr. 1720)

St. James's Street

2009-05-27T11:55:00.006Z

Nip through the Park and do a quick dog-leg by way of Spring Garden (an alley), Cockspur, Warwick Street and Pall Mall, and you would find yourself in St. James's Street.

Here you could enjoy the company of the gentle sex (for a price) at the Bagnio at number 63. Next door were Fenton's Hotel and the Cocoa Tree coffee shop (no. 64) which catered to the Tory MPs. The Whigs used the St. James coffee house just up the road at number 60.

White's Chocolate House at number 28 had a gaming room for gamblers, next door to Mrs. Hannah Humphrey's bookshop at no. 27.

Sedan Chair - part one

2009-05-22T12:31:00.002Z

A Modern Belle going to the Rooms at Bath

James Gillray (1796)

Perspective

2009-05-21T16:19:00.001Z

I never saw an ugly thing in my life; for let the form of an object be what it may - light, shade and perspective will always make it beautiful.

John Constable

The Bruiser's Reply

2009-05-19T08:20:00.002Z

Churchill wrote in reply:

Be wicked as thou wilt; do all that's base;
Proclaim thyself the monster of thy race.
Let Vice and Folly thy black soul divide;
Be proud with meanness, and be mean with pride.

I think it's fair to say that he felt stung.

The Bruiser

2009-05-19T08:06:00.010Z

THE BRUISER, C. CHURCHILL (once the Rev'd!) in the Character of a Russian Hercules. Regaling himself after having Kill'd the Monster Caricaturea that so sorely Gall'd his Virtuous friend, the Heaven born WILKES!

But he had a Club this Dragon to Drub, or he had ne'er don'it, I warrant ye --- Dragon of Wantley

Designed and Engraved by Wm Hogarth Price 1s 6d n Publish'd according to act of Parliament August 1. 1763

Hogarth - depicting himself here in the foreground, in the character of his own pug-dog - is ridiculing the satirist, critic and poet, Charles Churchill (ally of the radical politician John Wilkes, who Hogarth considered an enemy).

Mr. Johnston's Bear

2009-05-08T12:35:00.003Z

I called at Drury Lane Playhouse for Mr. Garrick... In the theatre there was a fine large dog chained. "This," said he, "is Johnston the boxkeeper's bear, though I don't know which of 'em is the greatest bear."

Johnson on the Credit Crunch:

2009-05-04T12:51:00.002Z

"Trade may make a man rich; but riches, without goodness, cannot make us happy."

A child of older parents:

2009-05-04T12:49:00.002Z

...'leads much the same sort of life as a child's dog; teased like that with fondness through folly, and exhibited like that to every company, through idle and empty vanity.'

[Sam Johnson, who suffered from his parents' attention]

A Proper Spectacle

2009-05-01T10:16:00.000Z

(Lifted from a Hogarth crowd-scene).

Boswell on the Credit Crunch:

2009-05-01T10:06:00.002Z

...'I now made a very clear calculation of my expenses for the year, and found that I would be able to save £50 out of my allowance... Not satisfied with saving £50, I went to work still nearer, wishing to save £20 more, and with great thought and assiduity did I compute. In short, I found myself turning very fond of money and ruminating with a kind of transport on the idea of being worth £70 at the year's end. The desire of being esteemed a clever economist was no doubt mixed in with it, but I seriously think that sheer love of coin was my predominant principle...
I have observed in some preceding period of this my journal that making money is one of the greatest pleasures in life, as it is very lasting and is continually increasing. But it must be observed that a great share of anxiety is the constant concomitant of this passion, so that the mind is as much hurt in one way as it is pleased in another... To keep the golden mean between stinginess and prodigality is the point I should aim at.'

James Boswell, 9 February 1763

Coves, Kinchins and Morts

2009-04-15T13:48:00.003Z

COVE - A man, a fellow, a rogue. The cove was bit: the rogue was outwitted. The cove has bit the cole: the rogue has got the money.

KINCHIN - A little child. Kinchin coes: orphan beggar boys, educated in thieving. Kinchin morts: young girls under the like circumstances and training. Kinchin morts, or coes in slates: beggars' children carried at their mothers' backs in sheets. Kinchin cove: a little man.

MORT - A woman or wench; also a yeoman's daughter. To be taken all a-mort: to be confounded, surprised or motionless through fear.

SLATE - A sheet.

From Francis Grose's dictionary The Vulgar Tongue (1785).

Cant, the argot which Grose catalogues, was the language of street-traders, criminals and itinerants: a language of self-protection for those planning or committing illicit acts, or wishing to have private discourse in public; it also acted as a badge of identity of the marginal or dispossessed.

Dangerous Beauty

2009-04-13T09:35:00.004Z

Continuing musings on toxic cosmetics...

What is amazing to me, is that the Georgian beauties knew what they were risking in applying ceruse directly onto their skin - and that was just for starters, the white lead 'base coat' - even without a legion of scientists and rodents to guinea-pig for them. Common gossip alleged that a number of women had died from 'addiction' to various dangerous tints: in his correspondence, Horace Walpole mentions Lady Fortrose, ‘killed like Lady Coventry and others by white lead, of which nothing could break her’, even though ceruse was known to be ‘corrosive and pernicious to the skin.’ As late as 1822 The British Perfumer warned of the high toxicity of vermilion, recommending the use of less harmful cochineal papers for applying rouge instead.

But are we any better today? Our Hollywood belles inject poison into their flesh in Botox, which magazines and tube adverts attempt to incite us to also try over a lunch-time sandwich. It's becoming ever-more common for 'ordinary' people to have bits of our faces augmented or our skin stretched tauter, bags of silicone deposited in our bodies, and inches of fat sucked away.

And, again just as today when we collude with artificiality - to some extent indulging ourselves, by persisting in feeling inferior to magazine images which we know are airbrushed - so George Romney, John Hoppner, Richard Westall, Richard Cosway, etc. were all even at the time known to flatter the (already excessively made-up) women who sat for them by further 'improving' their complexions...

Popular Drinks of the Georgian Era...

2009-04-09T11:46:00.003Z

ii: Hum Cap, or Hum

Very old and strong beer, often made with malt, such as Double Ale, Stout or Pharaoh; also known as STINGO.

Kinchin morts...

2009-04-08T15:49:00.002Z

... or, coves in slates :--

Beggars' children, carried on their mothers' backs,

bound up in sheets.

Imagination Running Riot:

2009-04-07T07:40:00.004Z

'If once our carnal appetites are let loose, without those prudent and secure guides [of virtue and religion], there is no excess and disorder which they are not liable to commit, even while they pursure their natural satisfaction; and, which may seem still more strange, there is nothing monstrous and unnatural, which they are not capable of inventing, nothing so brutal and shocking which they have not actually committed.'

Henry Fielding, The Female Husband (1746)

Ingredients:

2009-04-06T11:55:00.003Z

Among the ingredients in theatrical and everyday make-up were:

white lead - known as 'ceruse' (toxic)
red cinnabar (toxic)
vermilion (toxic)
white chalk
carpenters' blue chalk
India ink
red brickdust
sandalwood red
mouse-skin patches (for creating alluring moles and decorative shapes, but more often for disguising syphilitic boils)

Interestingly, while excessive red in your custom-made complexion was considered tarty to British tastes, in France it was white that was whorish.

Saving Face

2009-04-06T09:46:00.003Z

'New powdered,

patch'd and paint'd o'er,

The marks of a retailing whore.'

Ned Ward, Hudibras

The Spectator complained, in an article in 1711, that the vogue for make-up had become so excessive that women were in constant danger of 'losing face':-

'A sigh in the languishing lover, if fetched too near, would dissolve a feature; and a kiss snatched by a forward one, might transform the complexion of the mistress to the face of the admirer.'

Bridewell

2009-04-02T18:07:00.005Z

'From St. Bride's Well, a holy well in London, near which Henry VIII had a 'lodging', given by Edward VI for a hospital, afterwards converted into a house of correction.' [from the O.E.D.]

By association, 'bridewell' came to be a general term for any house of correction for prisoners; a place of forced labour; a gaol, prison. As, for example, in Colse's poem of 1596, Penelope's Complaint:

"Thy giggish tricks, thy queanish trade,

A thousand Bridwel birds hath made."

Most towns had a bridewell: some, like Newport Pagnell, even had two.

In much the same way, 'Tyburn' was the place of execution for Middlesex prisoners; situated at the junction of the present-day Oxford Street, Bayswater Road and Edgeware Road, but in open land some distance from the city when it was first established.

By allusion, however, and presumably because its sheer traffic of trade made it a byword, 'Tyburn' came to be synonymous with 'the gallows.' Therefore: Tyburn blossom, Tyburn check, Tyburn coach, Tyburn collop, Tyburn face, Tyburn jig, Tyburn piccadill, Tyburn saint, Tyburn stretch, Tyburn string, Tyburn tie, Tyburn tiffany, Tyburn ticket, Tyburn tippet, Tyburn tree, Tyburn tribe, Tyburn wright.

And hence also, York's 'Tyburn' - first a gibbet, later a gallows - where Dick Turpin was hanged.

St. James's Park: the Ton saunters...

2009-03-31T06:50:00.002Z

Thomas Gainsborough, 'The Mall' (1783)

The Female Husband

2009-03-28T09:04:00.010Z

'A woman marrying a woman according to the rites of the Established Church is something strange and unnatural. Yet did this woman, under the outward garb of a man, marry fourteen of her own sex.' [The Newgate Calendar]

Mary Hamilton, who went by the name 'Charles', was an itinerant quack doctor who had been habitually cross-dressing since trying on her brother's clothes when she was 14. By the time she reached public attention, in 1746 (when she was about 20), she had been living as a man some years; she was put on trial in Taunton for marrying a string of women, under the fraudulent pretence of being a man.

'Charles' had full sexual relationships with her wives (one testified that she 'had entered her Body several times', presumably with a dildo). Nonetheless Mary Price, said by some sources to be the fourteenth victim of this female Bluebeard, became suspicious after several months of marriage. At this point 'Charles' confessed, and was sent to prison. From here she did a roaring trade selling her patent medicines to the visitors who crowded to gawp at her.

'Great Numbers of people flock to see her in Bridwell... [She] appears very bold and impudent. She seems very gay, with Perriwig, Ruffles, and Breeches.' [The Bath Journal]

Her crime was considered as a form of fraud: the court determined that she was 'an uncommon notorious Cheat'. She was punished with six months hard labour, and public whipping in Taunton, Glastonbury, Wells and Shepton Mallet. Henry Fielding, magistrate and author, is the likely author of a fictionalised pamphlet on Mary, titled 'The Female Husband.'

Father of Cryptography

2009-03-26T10:40:00.003Z

"The labyrinths of Cipher have frm Day to Day grown more difficult."

John Wallis (1616-1703) is considered to be the father of British codebreaking. A brilliant mathemetician of Emmanuel College, Oxford, Wallis preceded Newton in the development of integral and differential calculus, invented the symbol for and concept of 'infinity' ∞, came up with the germ of the binomial theorem and calculated pi by the interpolation of terms in an infinite series. He had a remarkable talent for mental arithmetic, but was also interested in language; writing a book on grammar with an appendix of the formation of speech-sounds, from which he went on to develop a system for teaching the deaf and dumb to talk.

With such an array of linguistic and numerical skills, it's perhaps not surprising to find that he was the Parliamentarian codebreaker who deciphered some of Charles I's letters, among others, and created a new cipher of his own.

Intelligencers

2009-03-25T22:17:00.002Z

- aka - spies.

By the 18th century, three secret departments had been created within the General Post Office; these were: the Secret Office, the Private Office and the Deciphering Branch. All three departments operated out of the main post office building off Lombard Street (see 17 March post - 'From Horwood's Map.')

While the Secret Office was concerned with intercepting foreign correspondence, the Private Office covered domestic letters from suspects identified by principal parliamentary secretaries, and applied for by warrant. The Deciphering Branch was staffed by codebreakers, who 'can discover a close-stool to signify a privy-council; a flock of geese, a senate; a lame dog, an invader; the plague, a standing army; a buzzard, a prime-minister; the gout, a high priest; a gibbet, a secretary of state; a chamber pot, a committee of grandees' [Jonathan Swift].

Very few people outside government were aware of these departments' existence; at home and abroad, Britain was considered to be the freest country in Europe. Nevertheless, cumulatively they formed a genuine and highly organised espionage agency, used by ministers but with an entirely independent structure and personnel. Robert Walpole, Britain's first Prime Minister, employed a large team of 'intelligencers' - both men and women - drawn from aristocratic, literary and criminal circles. He was strongly suspected of using them to acquire privileged knowledge for his own commercial advantage.

Popular Drinks of the Georgian Era...

2009-03-24T11:13:00.005Z

i: Bishop

A concoction of port wine mulled with sugar and a roasted orange or lemon: "Spicy bishop; drink divine". [Coleridge, Poems 1801]

'To bishop' is also to file down and tamper with the teeth of a horse, to make him appear younger. Later, it also came to mean 'to kill by drowning', after Bishop the murderer who drowned a boy in Bethnal Green in 1831; in order to sell his body for dissection.

Riding Out

2009-03-23T18:47:00.007Z

Above: Horse and Rider (anonymous, 18thC Czechoslovakian)

Below: Osmington Chalk Rider (anonymous, 18thC British. This is the only 'white horse' shown with a rider: he is said to be George III).

Inside the coffee-shop:

2009-03-21T19:25:00.000Z

Could it be Magical?

2009-03-20T11:04:00.002Z

"The Chevalier Pinetti with his Consort will exhibit most wonderful, stupendous, and absolutely inimitable, mechanical, physical, and philosophical pieces, which his recent deep scrutiny in those sciences, and assiduous exertions have enabled him to invent and construct; among which Chevalier Pinetti will have the special honour and satisfaction of exhibiting various experiments of new discovery, no less curious than seemingly incredible, particularly that of Madame Pinetti being seated in one of the front boxes, with a handkerchief over her eyes, and guessing at everything imagined and proposed to her by any person in the company."

Advertisement, 1784.

Dangers of Writing, ii: Critical Reviews

2009-03-19T08:33:00.002Z

"[The author affects] contempt of all newspaper strictures; though, at the same time, he is the sorest man alive, and shrinks like scorched parchment from the fiery ordeal of true criticism: yet he is so covetous of popularity, that he had rather be abused than not mentioned at all."

Richard Sheridan, The Critic

Well, Toto, I guess we're not in Starbucks anymore...

2009-03-18T22:04:00.003Z

Members of the Royal Society (scientists, philosophers and artists, mostly) took their coffee at the Grecian Coffee House, just off the Strand in Devereux Court.

It was within its august walls that Isaac Newton and Edmund Halley once dissected a dolphin.

Try THAT tomorrow with your double-mocha half-fat decaf with extra chocolate sprinkles.

The Latest Thing

2009-03-18T08:00:00.004Z

In the grounds of Alexander Pope's status-symbol Palladian villa at Twickenham, which he designed himself, were all the latest whims and fancies: a vineyard, orangery, hothouses for pineapples, hives for bees, rare varieties of French pear, and a large kitchen garden.

Beyond the domestic garden lay extensive landscaping: straight avenues, winding interlaced paths, dense woods, many different trees, a grove of cypresses leading to an obelisk, an amphitheatre, quincunxes, groves, arcades, a wilderness, a bowling green, a shell temple, three mounts, a panorama and a camera obscura built within a grotto.

A restless striving quarrel between ingenuity, variety and naturalism, all crammed into a bare five acres of ground - and as good a metaphor for the eighteenth century as you might care to find.

The Devil in the Detail

2009-03-18T07:57:00.002Z

Diabolus in Musica - a tri-tone formed by C and F sharp played together.

It was long considered as having an ugly, eerie or even evil quality. Its use was forbidden to early ecclesiastical composers, who gave it this name.

St. James Park, daytime view

2009-03-17T20:19:00.002Z

Not, sadly, showing the pelicans: in 1664, a Russian ambassador presented a pair to the king, a tradition which foreign ambassadors continue to this day.

St. James's Park, after Dark

2009-03-17T19:31:00.003Z

Much Wine had pass’d, with grave Discourse
Of who fucks who, and who does worse ..

And nightly now, beneath their shade
Are Buggeries, Rapes and Incests made ..
Great Ladies, Chambermaids and Drudges
The Rag-picker and the Heiress trudges.

Carmen, Divines, Great Lords and Taylors
Prentices, Poets, Pimps and Jaylers,
Footmen, fine Fopps do here arrive
And here – promiscuously – they swive ..

James Wilmot, Earl of Rochester: A Ramble in St. James' Park (1672)

My Lord of London, chancing to remark
A noted Dean much busy’d in the Park
‘Proceed’ he cry’d, ‘proceed my Reverend Brother
‘tis Fornicatio Simplex and no other;
Better than lust for Boys, with Pope and Turk
Or other Spouses like my Lord of York’.

Alexander Pope: Imitations (1735)

From Horwood's Map

2009-03-17T13:35:00.002Z

Showing the proximity of the Bank of England, the stock exchange, and the General Post Office:

Dangers of Writing, i: The Poignant Orange

2009-03-17T09:34:00.003Z

Prodigious Madness of the writing Race!

Ardent of Fame, yet fearless of Disgrace.

Without a boding Fear, or anxious Sigh,

The Bard obdurate sees his Brother die.

Deaf to the Critick, sullen to the Friend,

Not One takes Warning, by Another's End.

Oft has our Bard in this disastrous Year,

Beheld the Tragic Heroes taught to fear.

Oft has he seen the Poignant Orange fly,

And heard th'ill Omen'd Catcall's direful Cry.

Yet dares to venture on the dangerous Stage,

And weakly hopes to 'scape the Critick's Rage.

Sam. Johnson - Prologue to David Garrick's Lethe (1740)

Courting Controversy

2009-03-16T23:05:00.002Z

We hear that a certain Mrs. E-- B--, conjugally conjoined with one of Drury Lane Orchestra's finest exponents of the musical arts, has left her spouse to the chilly embraces of his double-bass, while she enjoys a far warmer welcome in the bosom of the Pr-- of W---...

The Rewards of Literature

2009-03-16T22:35:00.006Z

Then as now, the 18th Century Literary Muse was a harsh mistress, whose amateurs knew little rest and less riches:

"I am every moment threatened to be turned out [of my lodgings] because I have not money to pay for my bed two nights past, which is usually paid beforehand... I hope therefore you will have the humanity to send me half a guinea for support, till I finish your papers in my hands. The ode on the British Nation I hope to have done today and want proof copy of that part of Stowe you'd choose for the present magazine, that it may be compressed as far as possible...

I humbly entreat your answer, having not tasted anything since Tuesday evening I came in here, and my coat will be taken off my back, for the charge of the bed. So that I must go into prison naked, which is too shocking for me to think of."

[Poet Samuel Boyse, written to a printer/publisher Edward Cave]

Boyse wasn't exaggerating his penury. Engaged in an almost constant circuit between his lodgings and the pawn shop, he often had to go shirtless: at which times he would cut paper into strips and bind them round his wrists and neck to resemble the collar and cuffs he was lacking.

As a young man Samuel Johnson, a friend of Boyse, once scrimped enough money to redeem all Boyse's clothes back - only to find that two days later, they'd been pawned once more.

Where I admire the man, is that he never lost a taste for luxury, or a sense that he deserved it. Johnson recalled of him that even when he was ill from hunger:

"And some money was produced to purchase him a dinner, he got a bit of roast beef, but could not eat it without ketchup, and laid out the last half-guinea he possessed in truffles and mushrooms, eating them in bed, too, for want of clothes, or even a shirt to sit up in."

Drury Lane, 1698

2008-04-16T08:38:00.002Z

Henri Misson, visiting London from France in the late 17th century, gives an excellent description of the interior of the theatre:

The Pit is an Amphitheatre, fill'd with Benches without Backboards, and adorn'd and cover'd with green Cloth. Men of Quality, particularly the younger Sort, some Ladies of Reputation and Virtue, and abundance of Damsels that haunt for Prey, sit all together in this Place, Higgledy-piggledy, chatter, toy, play, hear, hear not.

Farther up, against the Wall, under the first Gallery and just opposite to the Stage, rises another Amphitheatre, which is taken by persons of the best Quality, among whom are generally very few Men. The Galleries, whereof there are only two Rows, are fill'd with none but ordinary People, particularly the Upper one.

A closer view...

2008-04-16T08:14:00.000Z

William Hogarth: The Laughing Audience, 1733

The Playhouse: A Satire

2008-04-16T08:08:00.002Z

The Middle Galle'ry first demands our View;
The filth of Jakes, and stench of ev'ry Stew!
Here reeking Punks like Ev'ning Insects swarm;
The Polecat's Perfume much the Happier Charm...
Discreet in this, their Faces not to shew;
The Mask the best Complexion of the two.
Their Noses falling and their Eyes sunk in,
A wrinkl'd Forehead and a Parchment Skin...

Choak't with the stench of Brimstone, 'twill be fit
To Visit next the Boxes and the Pit,
And for the Muse a Nobler Scene prepare,
And let Her breathe awhile in Milder Air.
But such a sudden Glare invades her Eyes,
So vast a Crowd of diffe'rent Vanities,
She knows where not to fix her Rancour first;
So very Wicked all, that all are worst!...
Such Giddy Insects here for ever come,
And very little Dare, but much Presume:
Perpetually the Ladies Ears they Ply,
And whisper Slander at the Standers by:
Then laugh aloud; which now is grown a part
Of Play-house Breeding, and of Courtly Art.
The true Sign of Your Modish Beau Garson
Is Chatt'ring like a Ladies lewd Baboon,
Shewing their Teeth to charm some pretty creature;
For Grinning, amoung Fops, is held a Feature...

All People now, the Place is grown so ill,
Before they see a Play shou'd make their Will:
For with much more Security , a Man
Might take a three Years Voyage to Japan.

Robert Gould, 1685

The New Cast

2008-02-29T10:16:00.002Z

Several chapters into the writing now, the cast has developed and changed slightly, so they need a bit of re-introducing. Taken clockwise, from 9 o'clock, we have:

Archie - a headstrong young Cambridge scholar, pulled from his studies by the death of his father which he will learn it is his duty - to his mother, to the world he grew up in, and to his own ambitions for a future as a scientist - to avenge;

Charley - a member of the 'theatrical gentry'; the teenage daughter of a theatre manager, and is herself a budding brilliant actress; she is a strange mixture of ebullient vanity and insecurity;

Veronique - woman of mystery; young mistress of Gian Carradino, an Italian nobleman and society darling; Veronique is fashionable and beautiful - but is she hiding something?

Susannah Pullen - former Drury Lane dancer, latterly actress, prompt and woman of all trades; she is the unmarried mother of Archie; she is resourceful, daring and still very lovely.

As to what they're up to: I'll keep you posted...

Hypotheses non fingo:

2007-06-19T11:50:00.000Z

I do not invent hypotheses.

Isaac Newton

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

2007-06-19T11:43:00.001Z

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

2007-06-11T10:54:00.000Z

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:

2007-06-05T12:32:00.000Z

£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:

2007-06-05T12:25:00.000Z

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:

2007-06-05T12:15:00.000Z

'... 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:

2007-06-04T09:18:00.000Z

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

2007-06-01T13:01:00.001Z

"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:

2007-06-01T12:39:00.000Z

[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

2007-05-30T13:01:00.000Z

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

2007-05-29T17:55:00.000Z

Pasquin's benefit ticket, William Hogarth

BENEFIT-nights

2007-05-29T17:47:00.000Z

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

2007-05-29T12:31:00.000Z

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...

2007-05-29T11:28:00.000Z

... 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,

2007-05-29T11:24:00.000Z

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:

2007-05-27T22:59:00.001Z

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

Perspective

2007-05-27T22:47:00.000Z

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

2007-05-25T09:09:00.001Z

... 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

2007-05-24T19:23:00.000Z

"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...

2007-05-24T18:59:00.000Z

... 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

2007-05-21T11:43:00.000Z

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

2007-05-09T16:10:00.000Z

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...

2007-05-08T20:09:00.000Z

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

2007-05-07T15:57:00.000Z

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

2007-05-06T17:19:00.000Z

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

2007-02-22T20:43:00.001Z

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

2007-02-22T20:41:00.000Z

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

2007-02-13T10:29:00.000Z

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...

2007-02-13T09:04:00.000Z

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

2007-02-08T18:49:00.000Z

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:

2007-02-07T22:53:00.000Z

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

Henry Fielding, The Modern Husband

Fielding's Choice

2007-02-07T22:47:00.000Z

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!

2007-02-05T14:39:00.000Z

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:

2007-02-02T16:25:00.001Z

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

Stage Fright

2007-02-01T12:21:00.000Z

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

2007-01-31T10:55:00.000Z

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

2007-01-30T11:40:00.000Z

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

The Actors' Dilemma

2007-01-30T11:34:00.000Z

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

2007-01-30T10:31:00.000Z

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

2007-01-29T08:45:00.000Z

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

2007-01-27T13:48:00.000Z

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

2007-01-27T13:17:00.000Z

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...

2007-01-27T13:04:00.000Z

... 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

2007-01-27T12:56:00.000Z

[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

2007-01-23T13:47:00.000Z

"... 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

2007-01-23T13:33:00.000Z

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

2007-01-18T15:00:00.000Z

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

2007-01-18T14:40:00.000Z

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

2007-01-18T14:28:00.000Z

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

2007-01-18T14:21:00.000Z

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

2007-01-18T12:28:00.000Z

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

2007-01-18T12:08:00.000Z

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

2007-01-16T10:02:00.000Z

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

2007-01-15T12:50:00.000Z

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

2007-01-15T09:47:00.000Z

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.