“Sure love is the soul of a nate Irishman, He loves all that's lovely, loves all that he can With his sprig of shilleleagh and shamrock so green.”—
The three friends had now rounded the corner at the bottom of Fleet-street, in the direction of Blackfriars, when Dashall claimed the attention of his associates.—
“This is the domicil,” said he, “of the patriotic Alderman, who, during so many years has uniformly and ably opposed the civic hirelings of Corruption, advocated the cause of Freedom, and acquired the well-earned meed of high estimation by all the respectable and independent portion of his fellow-citizens.
“Firm in principle, and resolute in difficulty, the conscientious discharge of his duty has ever been his prominent object. But perhaps in no instance has he so greatly endeared himself to humanity, than in that of the long protracted inquest on the bodies of the two unfortunate men, Honey and Francis, the victims of military outrage; his constant attendance and indefatigable exertions on that occasion, were the means of eliciting many particulars which otherways might not have been known, and which ultimately led the Jury to record the atrociousness of the crime by the several verdicts of murder and manslaughter.
“Again, on the memorable day of the funeral of these two immolated men, Mr. W. in his capacity of Sheriff, supported with becoming dignity, his high station, and undaunted amidst imminent danger, enforced obedience even from the military, and saved the effusion of human blood.”
London exhibits, daily, a series of depravity perhaps unparalleled in any other part of the British Empire.—
Dashall had just finished his eulogium on the worthy Alderman, in which his friends heartily coincided, when the attention of the triumvirate was attracted by the appalling appearance of five men rivetted together, and conducted along the street by officers of justice. Tallyho enquired into the nature of their crimes, and was informed that they were in custody under suspicion of house-breaking in the night-time, and that two of them, particularly, had been taken in the house which they had plundered, regaling themselves, in perfect ease, with cold meat, wine, and liquors, and the stolen property tied up in a bag, with which, on the moment of alarm, they attempted an escape, but were intercepted in their retreat, and taken in charge by the officers after a desperate resistance, in which shots and hurts were received both by the victors and the vanquished. It is almost beyond belief, that men engaged in an enterprise wherein ignominious death awaits discovery, would sit down to regale themselves after having secured their booty, with as much composure, as if in their own homes; yet so it is; such is the daring callousness of mind attached to long confirmed and successful habits of guilt.{1}
1 Police. Mansion House.—William Johnson was charged by Mr. Miller of Lower Thames Street, on suspicion of having com- mitted a robbery on Thursday night, under circumstances of rather an extraordinary kind.. Mr. Miller's evidence was to the following effect. He has a cut glass and earthenware warehouse in Thames Street, but does not reside there. Upon visiting his warehouse yesterday morning, he found that thieves had been very busy upon the concern the night before. They did not get much, but while they were in the house they enjoyed themselves. They lighted a fire, and paid a visit to the wine-cellar, from which they took two bottles of wine and three bottles of perry, which it seemed they drank warm with sugar, and Mr. Miller received a very polite letter from one of them, acknowledging the obligations they were under to him for the excellent beverage his cellar afforded. Upon examining other parts of the premises. Mr. Miller found that his iron chest had been forced open. The instrument (a large chissel) with which this feat was performed was lying on the premises, and a dark lanthorn, which the thieves had forgotten, was also picked up in the course of the search. The petty cash drawers of the iron chest lay open empty, but Mr. Miller believed there had been in them when he left the Warehouse, a sum perhaps not exceeding a couple of pounds. The bills and papers were not taken away, neither had any thing been removed that was likely to be recovered. Some silver cruet-tops were taken, but the cruets were left behind. The chissel, which, though very strong, had been broken in the effort to open the chest, was of the largest size. All the rooms of the building, except those in front, had been visited by the depredators, and there were various circumstances concurring to fix a very strong suspicion on the prisoner, besides the probability that he was the writer of the letter “of thanks” to Mr. Miller for the entertainment afforded. The letter, which was written in a good hand, began with the word “Gemmen,” and stated that they (the writer and his friends) had called, regretted that there was no “wassel in the lob,” (money in the chest) but expressed the highest opinion of the wine, begged pardon for disturbing the papers, and expressed how happy those who drank the wine would be to visit the premises upon a future occasion! The prisoner was remanded.
It sometimes happens that even juvenile depredators who have imbibed a propensity for liquor, have been caught in the snare thus laid by themselves. Of this fact Dashall gave the following very curious illustration.—“A few evenings ago,” said he, “the family of my next door neighbour retired to rest, leaving every thing, as they imagined, in a state of perfect security. On the servant however, coming down stairs in the morning, he was surprised to find a new and unexpected inmate, fast asleep in the kitchen, a quantity of plate packed up lay by his side, and before him were a bottle of brandy and another of wine. He was a lad not more than sixteen years of age, who had ingeniously contrived, in the nighttime, to get access to the house, and having secured his spoil, had resorted to the pantry and wine-cellar for refreshment. Of the stores from the latter receptacle, he had partaken so liberally that he was thrown into a deep slumber, from which he was roused by the unwelcome voice of the Officer who had been sent for to take him into custody.”
Our perambulators had now passed along the bridge, and advanced a short distance on Blackfriar's road, when they observed a spacious travelling caravan, stationary by the side of the high way, intimating that there was to be seen within, the great northern bear, known by the name of “Autocrat of All the Russias,” while a fellow with a speaking tube invited in the most alluring terms of itinerant oratory, the gaping multitude to walk in,—“Walk in, ladies and gentlemen, and behold this most wonderous of all wonders that ever was wondered at in this wonderful world,—the Ursa major,—that gives its name to one of the constellations, and was taken by a ruse de guerre in one of the hitherto undiscovered deserts of the remotest Siberia! This stupendous animal was sent from these unknown regions as a present to a certain great personage in this country, who having a superabundancy of native bears already prowling about him, was pleased to order the dismission of this northern stranger, without a pension; and thus it came into the possession of its present exhibiter!”