"The beloved King is in the best state possible for his present melancholy situation: that is, wholly free from bodily suffering, or imaginary mental misery, for he is persuaded that he is always conversing with Angels."[15]
CHAPTER XI.
A Cat in a Conflagration — Scramble for Exchequer Bills — A Matrimonial Dispute — An old Debtor — A Volunteer Dinner — A Man and Hedgehog — Torpedoes — Slavery — Gambling on Napoleon's Life — Gas Lighting.
And now to wind up the year with a little de omnibus rebus, which would not fall into any particular place, yet are worth keeping, as indicative of the times of which I write: they have no connection with each other, so are taken in chronological order.
On the 4th of April, a fire broke out at the "Commercial Hall," Skinner Street, Newgate Street, the Hall which, valued at £25,000, was the capital prize in the City Lottery. It was a bad fire, and two firemen were injured, but no lives lost. When at its fiercest, a Cat was seen on a part of the buildings which would soon inevitably be in flames. There was no human being to be burnt, so the sympathy of the crowd went out towards Pussy. There was no way of escape for her, except by an alarming leap, for the walls had crumbled and fallen in, and this leap Pussy could not make up her mind to take. The flames were encroaching, and gathering round her, and the mental tension of the Crowd was getting tighter and tighter every minute, when a gentleman enthusiastically offered £5 to any one who would rescue the Cat. A fireman was induced to make the attempt, and with great difficulty got behind the Cat, and forced her to take the leap, from the fifth storey, when she fell into the midst of the spectators unhurt! The fireman immediately received his promised reward.
The following scene, of "hastening to be rich," is almost on a par with what might be witnessed in the time of John Law and the South Sea Bubble, or that of King George (Hudson) of Railway fame. It is thus recorded in the Annual Register: "April 7: This morning, as early as five o'clock, a crowd of brokers and others, beset the Exchequer-bill office, in order to put down their names for funding Exchequer Bills. Such was the scramble to get in, that a number of the persons were thrown down, and many of them injured; some fainted by the excessive pressure of the crowd, and a few had their coats literally torn off their backs. The first 14 names (chiefly bankers) subscribed seven millions out of the twelve required; and, very early in the day, notice was given that the subscription was full.... That the first characters in the country, as bankers, merchants, and others, are to be marshalled by police officers, exhorted to be patient, cool, and passive, till they can enter the Exchequer through a door, a third part opened by a chain, and of which the aperture is scarcely sufficient for a moderate sized man to get in, is disgraceful in the extreme."
(Ibid.) April 11th: "For the first time this season nine Mackerel were brought to the beach at Brighton, which were immediately purchased for the London Market at 6s. 6d. each. The following day, another boat arrived with 28 more, which were bought with equal avidity at the same price. On Thursday, a third boat brought 93, which fetched after the rate of £40 per hundred. Not a single Mackerel has been retailed there, but all have been sent off to the metropolis."