Never was society in London in a worse condition than at this time. In every class there was a pitiful cynicism, and pitiless savagery, with open contempt for becomingness in man and woman. A report of a sermon in the newspapers would be followed by an unutterably filthy epigram. Essayists claimed to exercise the utmost nastiness of life, and denied the right of anyone to find fault with it. The monthly executions at Tyburn were periodical fiendish revels. The newspapers made jokes upon them; and Newgate convicts who cut their throats to avoid the long agony in a Tyburn cart, were banteringly censured for disappointing a public eager for such shows. The doomed man who rode thither pluckily, was lauded. Much notice was taken of a gentleman highwayman, with many aliases, who was captured in a western county, and who drove up to Newgate with attendant constables, in his own coach and six. The papers reminded him, however, that his next ride would be in a cart and two. The departure of criminals for the Plantations was another sight. It was always spoken of as the exportation from the storehouse in Newgate Street of certain merchandise to America. AMBITIOUS THIEVES. The crowds of young thieves, who, with finer company, lined the route by which the older ruffians walked from Newgate to Blackfriars, where the lighter lay which was to convey them to the ship waiting for them off Gravesend—were spoken of as nice young shoots that would be transplanted in two or three years. The convicts walked, slightly guarded, free in limbs, free and foul in tongue, full of spirits and blasphemy. It was among their gentler acts of felony, committed on their way, to rob the fine gentlemen who stood near enough as they passed, of their hats and perukes. They clapped the stolen property on their own heads, and congratulated themselves that they would land in America, something like gentlemen. This sort of theft was a favourite one at the time. A gentleman riding in his chariot, to court or opera, was not so safe as walking on the highway with a sword in his hand. A thief, fond of dress, would cut a square in the back part of the chariot, draw the new wig off the beau’s head, and wear it proudly at night in presence of his own Sukey Tawdry! Gentlemen, in defence of their new wigs, were obliged to ride with their backs to their horses!
CHAPTER XIX.
(1723.)
he year 1723 found society variously agitated. There was real terror about the Plot; but among the gayer portion of society there was but small concern save to know whether Cuzzoni would come out at the Opera, and whether the racing season would be affected or not by the conspiracy. The above lady not only came out, but the king went, attended only by a few gentlemen, to hear the Syren. Criticism took this form of expression in the London Journals, January 19th, 1723:—
‘His Majesty was at the Theatre in the Haymarket when Signora Cotzani (Cuzzoni) performed for the first Time, to the Surprise and Admiration of a numerous Audience, who are ever too fond of Foreign Performers. She has already jump’d into a handsome Carriage and an Equipage accordingly. The Gentry seem to have so high a Taste for her fine Parts, that she is likely to be a great Gainer by them.’
At this very time, the more serious drama was approaching its last act.
THE PLOT.