About this time there arose an objectionable class of men, who tried to ape the gentleman, but could not, and they went by the generic term of “Gents.” Punch was death upon them, and I give one of the satirist’s onslaughts, as it reproduces the costumes and amusements of the day. First let us see the
“Gent” pictorially, and then, afterwards, read what manner of animal he was.
AN ACT
For amending the Public Deportment of certain individuals called “Gents,” abiding in London and other places.
Whereas it having been represented that there are, at present existing in the Metropolis, as well as in the provincial districts, certain individuals known and spoken of as “Gents,” whose bearing and manners are perfectly at variance with the characters, which, from a monomania, they appear desirous of assuming:
And Whereas, in consequence of cheap clothes, imitative dispositions, and intellectual poverty, this class is greatly on the increase, it has been thought necessary that this Act should be framed to control their vicious habits:
May it, therefore, please your Majesty, that it be enacted: And be it enacted henceforth, that all Gents, not actually in the employ of the Morning Post, or Mr. Simpson, of the “Albion,” be prevented from wearing white cravats at parties, the same being evidently an attempt of sixth-rate individuals to ape the manners of first-class circles. And that no Gent, who does not actually keep a horse, and is not in the Army, be allowed to strut up and down the Burlington Arcade, with a whip and moustachios, such imposition being exceedingly offensive, and amounting to a passive swindling of the spectators.
And be it enacted, that all such things as light-blue stocks, large figured shawls, cheap primrose gloves, white Chesterfield coal sacks, half-guinea Albert boots; in fact, all those articles ticketed in the shop windows as “Gent’s last style,” be considered the distinctive marks of the class, and condemned accordingly. And that every individual, moreover, smoking outside an omnibus, sticking large pins in his cravat, wearing fierce studs in his shirt, walking with others four abreast in Regent Street, reading slang publications, and adopting their language, playing billiards in public rooms, sporting dingy white gloves in the slips of the theatres, frequenting night taverns, and being on terms of familiarity with the singers and waiters, thinking great things of champagne, as if everything at a party depended upon it; and, especially, wearing the hat on one side, be the signs of most unmitigated Gents, and shunned equally with hydrophobia.
And be it further enacted that no Gent be, in future, allowed to cross a hired horse with a view to ten shillings worth of Sunday display in the Parks, the turnout being always detected; nor shall be permitted to drive a gig, in a fierce scarf, under similar circumstances. Nor shall any Gent imagine that an acquaintance with all the questionable resorts of London is “knowing life”; or that trousers of large check pattern are anything but exceeding Gentish.
Saving always that the Gents have not the sense to endeavour bettering their condition, which is exceedingly probable; under which circumstances they had better remain as they are, in ignorance of their melancholy position. But, on the other hand, it is commanded that people of common intellect, henceforth cease to designate any of their male friends as “Gents,” the word being one of exceedingly bad style, and equally objectionable with “genteel,” which is, possibly, derived from it. And that if, after this, anyone speaks of a “Gent,” or “Party” he knows, it is ordered that such speaker be immediately set down as one of the unfortunate class in question.
The Shakspere autograph which was sold on 24 May, 1841, came again into the market, and was bought on 19 May, for £145, by the Corporation of the City of London. The Patres Conscripti of the Common Council were not of one mind as to the eligibility of the purchase. On the motion “that the Court agree to the report, and that the Chamberlain be instructed to pay the sum,” Mr. Warton rose to move, as an amendment, that the report should lie upon the table. (A laugh, and loud cries of “Hear, hear.”) He had, he said, done all he could in the Committee, to prevail upon the members that the purchase of the autograph was a most wasteful and prodigal expenditure. (“Hear, hear,” and “No, no.”) The precedent was a most mischievous one. If the Court sanctioned such a proceeding as that which the report had described, by and by the autographs of archbishops and bishops, and other individuals who had, in times long past, distinguished themselves, would supply apologies for wasting the City cash, in order to gratify gentlemen who were afflicted with that description of mania. (Laughter.) He hoped the Court would not catch the infection, but second his rational effort to check it, by condemning the report to its proper station on the table. After all, the document was doubtful; but there was no doubt at all as to the profligacy of the expenditure. (Laughter, and cries of “Hear, hear,” and “No, no.”) Mr. Knott said it was quite ridiculous to think for a
moment, of voting £145 for a few doubtful, illegible, almost obliterated scratches of a pen. (Laughter, and cries of “Hear, hear.”) He defied any man on earth to say what those scratches represented. On a division there were, for the motion 41; for the amendment 31.
CHAPTER XXI.
Exhibition of cartoons—A duel—A monster—Gambling—The “Albert Hat”—Nelson’s statue—Fun thereon—Soldiers’ savings banks—A post boy and Lord Mayor’s show—M. Jullien and his orchestra—Prince Albert as a farmer—George IV.’s Statue—Ojibbeway Indians.
The public exhibition of Cartoons for the frescoes for the new Palace of Westminster, took place in Westminster Hall, on 3 July. There were 140 subjects altogether, varying in size from 15ft. to 10ft. square, none being admitted over, or under those standards. Prizes of £300 each were awarded to Armitage, Watts and Cope; of £200 to Calcott, Bell and Townsend; of £100 to Frost, Harris, Selous, Bridges and Severn; the judges being the Marquis of Lansdowne, Sir R. Peel and Messrs. S. Rogers, Westmacott, Cook and Etty. The Cartoons remained in Westminster Hall for 6 months; and, in Nov. were removed to the Suffolk Street Gallery. They were finally adjudicated upon by the Royal Commission of Fine Arts, on 12 July, 1844, the successful artists chosen to execute frescoes were Cope, Horsley, Dyce, Maclise, Redgrave, and Cave Thomas.
The practice of duelling was fast dying out, and I give the following case as being nearly one of the last, and one in which the seconds and surgeon were tried for being accessory to murder. Two brothers-in-law—Lt.-Col. Fawcett of the 55th Regiment and Lt. Munro of the Royal Horse Guards—quarrelled, and on the morning of the 1st July fought a duel with pistols in a field at the back of the “Brecknock Arms Tavern,” in Camden Road. Lt.-Col. Fawcett fell, mortally wounded, and died on the 3rd July. The Coroner’s jury found Lt. Munro, and the two seconds, guilty of wilful murder,