Whence, to the Leather Bottle driven, In strife, the great "Sir John" arose And pledged his last, best, drop of blood, Undo all things that wouldn't do, He'd do-in short, he'd do-what none do: The preceding engraving is from a large drawing, by Green, of a scene at this election in 1781, taken on the spot. Until now, this drawing has not been submitted to the public eye. In the above accurate representation of the spot, the sign of the Leather Bottle in Garrett-lane is conspicuous. Its site at that time was different from that of the present public-house bearing that name. It is further observable, that " Harper for ever" is inscribed on the phaeton of the mock candidate for the mock honours of the mock electors; and that the candidate himself is in the act of haranguing his worthy constituents, some of whose whimsical dresses will give a partial idea of the whimsical appearance of the assembled multitude. Every species of extravagant habiliment seems to have been resorted to. The little humourist in a large laced cocked hat, and his donkey in trappings, are particularly rich, and divide the attention of the people on foot with sir John Harper himself. The vender of a printed paper, in a large wig, leers round at him in merry glee. The sweeps, elevated on their bit of "come-up," are attracted by the popular candidate, whose voice seems rivalled by the patient animal, from whose back they are cheering their favourite man. In this election, we find the never-tobe-forgotten sir Jeffery Dunstan, who it is not right to pass without saying something more of him than that on this occasion he was a mere candidate, and unsuccessful. He succeeded afterwards to the seat he sought, and will be particularly noticed hereafter; until when, it would perhaps be more appropriate to defer what is about to be offered respecting him; but the distinguished favour of a communication from C. L. on such a subject, seems to require a distinguished place; his paper is therefore selected to prematurely herald the fame of the celebrated crier of "old wigs" in odd fashioned days, when wigs were a common and necessary addition to every person's dress. REMINISCENCE OF SIR JEFFERY DUNSTAN By C. L. To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. To your account of sir Jeffery Dunstan in columns 829-30 (where, by an unfortunate Erratum the effigies of two Sir Jefferys appear, when the uppermost figure is clearly meant for sir Harry Dimsdale) you may add, that the writer of this has frequently met him in his latter days, about 1790 or 1791, returning in an evening, after his long day's itinerancy, to his domicile a wretched shed in the most beggarly purlieu of Bethnal Green, a little on this side the Mile-end Turnpike. The lower figure in that leaf most correctly describes his then appearance, except that no graphic art can convey an idea of the general squalor of it, and of his bag (his constant concomitant) Whether it contained in particular. "old wigs" at that time I know not, but it seemed a fitter repository for bones snatched out of kennels, than for any part of a Gentleman's dress even second hand. at forked animal" indeed. My life upon it, it contained no curls at the time I speak of. The most decayed and spiritless remnants of what was once a peruke would have scorned the filthy case; would absolutely have "burst its cearments." No, it was empty, or brought home bones, or a few cinders possibly. A strong odour of burnt bones, I remember, blended with the scent of horse-flesh seething into dog's meat, and only relieved a little by the breathings of a few brick kilns, made up the atmosphere of the delicate suburban spot, which this great man had chosen for the last scene of his earthly vanities. The cry of " old wigs" had ceased with the possession of any such fripperies; his sack might have contained not unaptly a little mould to scatter upon that grave, to which he was now advancing; but it told of vacancy and desolation. His quips were silent too, and his brain was empty as his sack; he slank along, and seemed to decline popular observation. If a few boys followed him, it seemed rather from habit, than any expectation of fun. Alas! how changed from him, The life of humour, and the soul of whim, Gallant and gay on Garrat's hustings proud. But it is thus that the world rewards its favourites in decay. What faults he had, I know not. I have heard something of a peccadillo or so. But some little deviation from the precise line of rectitude, might have been winked at in so tortuous and stigmatic a frame. Poor Sir Jeffery! it were well if some M. P.'s in earnest have passed their parliamentary existence with no more offences against integrity, than could be laid to thy charge! A fair dismissal was thy due, not so unkind a degradation; some little snug retreat, with a bit of green before thine eyes, and not a burial alive in the fetid beggaries of Bethnal. Thou wouldst have ended thy days in a manner more appropriate to thy pristine dignity, installed in munificent mockery (as in mock honours you had lived) a Poor Knight of Windsor ! Every distinct place of public speaking demands an oratory peculiar to itself. The forensic fails within the walls of St. Stephen. Sir Jeffery was a living instance of this, for in the flower of his popularity an attempt was made to bring him out upon the stage (at which of the winter theatres I forget, but I well remember the anecdote) in the part of Doctor_Last.” The announcement drew a crowded house; but notwithstanding infinite tutoringby Foote, or Garrick, I forget whichwhen the curtain drew up, the heart of Sir Jeffery failed, and he faultered on, and made nothing of his part, till the hisses of the house at last in very kindness dismissed him from the boards. Great as his parliamentary eloquence had shown itself; brilliantly as his off-hand sallies had sparkled on a hustings; they here totally failed him. Perhaps he had an aversion to borrowed wit; and, like my Lord Foppington, disdained to entertain himself (or others) with the forced products of another man's brain. Your man of quality is more diverted with the natural sprouts of his own. THE GARRETT OATH. C. L. (ad rem) possession —— · (durante bene placito) without any let, suit, hindrance, or molestation whatever "SWORN (coram nobis) at our Great Hall on Garrat Green, covered with the plenteous harvest of the Goddess Ceres, and dedicated to the Jovial God Comus.". More than this it is not possible to give of the Garrett oath. During a Garrett election all Wands worth was in an uproar. It was the resort of people of all descriptions, and the publicans entertained them as conveniently as possible; yet, on one occasion, the influx of visiters was so immense that every ordinary beverage was hausted, and water sold at twopence a glass. ex By" old John Jones," "the doings at Wandsworth on the election day are described as "past description." Besides the "hustings" at Garrett, scaffoldings and booths were erected in Wandsworth at every open space: these were filled with spectators to the topmost rows, and boys climbed to the tops of the poles; flags and colours were hung across the road; and the place was crowded by a dense population full of activity and noise. For accommodation to view the humours of the day extraordinary prices were paid to the proveditors. tre-royal in Drury-lane." On turning to the "dramatis personæ," it will be found he performed Major Sturgeon himself, and, likewise, Matthew Mug in the same piece: Mrs. Clive playing Mrs. Sneak to. Weston's Jerry Sneak. Foote's "Mayor of Garratt" deemed an outline of the prevailing drolmay be lery and manners of the populace at Wandsworth: a scene or two here will be amusing and in place. This dramatist sketched so much from the life, that it is in his "comedy" had not its living origidoubtful whether every marked character Sturgeon from old Justice Lamb, a fishnal. It is certain, that he drew Major justice, whose daughter was married by monger at Acton, and a petty trading Major Fleming, a gentleman also " the commission of the peace," yet every way a more respectable man than his father-in-law. "in Referring, then, to Foote's "comedy," sir Jacob Jollup, who has a house at Garratt, holds a dialogue with his man Roger concerning the company they expect— Sir J. Are the candidates near upon coming? Roger. Nic Goose, the tailor from Putey, they say, will be here in a crack, sir Jacob. Sir J. Has Margery fetch'd in the linen? Roger. Yes, sir Jacob. lock'd up in the barn? Sir J. Are the pigs and the poultry Roger. Safe, sir Jacob. Sir J. And the plate and spoons in the pantry? Roger. Yes, sir Jacob. Sir J. Then give me, the key; the mob will soon be upon us; and all is fish that comes to their net. Has Ralph laid the cloth in the hall? Roger. Yes, sir Jacob. turkey and chine, and be sure there is Sir J. Then let him bring out the plenty of mustard; and, d'ye hear, and be careful who you let in. Roger, do you stand yourself at the gate, Roger. I will, sir Jacob. [exit. Sir J. So, now I believe things are pretty secure. Mob. [Without.] Huzza! Re-enter Roger. Sir J. What's the matter now, Roger? Roger. The electors desire to know if your worship has any body to recommend? Sir J. By no means; let them be free in their choice: I shan't interfere. Roger. And if your worship has any objection to Crispin Heeltap, the cobler, being returning officer? Sir J. None, provided the rascal can keep himself sober. Is he there? Roger. Yes, sir Jacob. Make way there! stand further off from the gate: here is madam Sneak in a chaise along with her husband. a merry one to our landlord, sir Jacob.! huzza! Mob. Huzza! Sneak. How fares it, honest Crispin? Heel. Servant, master Sneak. Let us now open the premunire of the thing, which I shall do briefly, with all the loquacity possible; that is, in a medium way; which, that we may the better do it, let the secretary read the names of the candidates, and what they say for themselves; and then we shall know what to say of them. Master Snuffle, begin. Snuffle. [Reads.] "To the worthy inhabitants of the ancient corporation of Garratt: gentlemen, your votes and interest are humbly requested in favour of Timothy Goose, to succeed your late "worthy mayor, Mr. Richard Dripping, in the said office, he being" Sir Jacob has work enough on his hands with his relations, and other visiters, who have arrived to see the election from his mansion; he calls his "son Bruin" to come in ;-"we are all seated at table man; we have but just time for a snack; the candidates are near upon coming." Then, in another scene,— Enter Mob, with Heeltap at their head; some crying "a Goose," others "a Mug," others " a Primmer." Heel. Silence, there; silence! Heel. Why then, silence! I say. Heel. Silence, and let us proceed, neighbours, with all the decency and confusion usual on these occasions. 1 Mob. Ay, ay, there is no doing without that. All. Ay, ay, ay. Heel. This Goose is but a kind of gosling, a sort of sneaking scoundrel. Who is he? Snuffle. A journeyman tailor from Put Heel. Hold your hissing, and proceed to the next. Snuffle. [Reads.] "Your votes are desired for Matthew Mug." 1 Mob. A Mug! a Mug! Heel. Oh, oh, what you are ready to Heel Chosen by yourselves, and ap. have a touch of the tankard; but fair and proved of by sir Jacob? All. True, true. Heel. Well then, be silent and civil; stand back there that gentleman without a shirt, and make room for your betters. Where's Simon Snuffle the sexton? Snuffle. Here. Heel. Let him come forward; we appoint him our secretary: for Simon is a scollard, and can read written hand; and so let him be respected accordingly. 3 Mob. Room for master Snuffle. Heel. Here, stand by me: and let us, neighbours, proceed to open the premunire of the thing: but first, your reverence to the lord of the manor: a long life and soft, good neighbours, let us taste this master Mug before we swallow him; and, unless I am mistaken, you'll find him a bitter draught. 1 Mob. A Mug! a Mug! 2 Mob. Hear hiin; hear master Heeltap. 1 Mob. A Mug! a Mug! Heel. Harkye, you fellow with your mouth full of Mug, let me ask you a question: bring him forward. Pray is not this Matthew Mug a victualler? 3 Mob. I believe he may. Heel. And lives at the sign of the Adam and Eve? 3 Mob. I believe he may. Heel. Now, answer upon your honour and as you are a gentleman, what is the present price of a quart of home-brew'd at the Adam and Eve? 3 Mob. I don't know. Heel. Oh, may be so. Now, neighbours, here's a pretty rascal; this same Mug, because, d'ye see, state affairs would not jog glibly without laying a farthing a quart upon ale; this scoundrel, not contented to take things in a medium way, has had the impudence to raise it a penny. Mob. No Mug! no Mug! Heel. So, I thought I should crack Mr. Mug. Come, proceed to the next, Simon. Snuffle. The next upon the list is Peter Primmer, the schoolmaster. Heel. Ay, neighbours, and a sufficient man let me tell you, master Primmer is a man for my money; a man of learning, that can lay down the law: why, adzooks, he is wise enough to puzzle the parson; and then, how you have heard him oration at the Adam and Eve of a Saturday night, about Russia and Prussia. 'Ecod, George Gage, the exciseman, is nothing at all to un. 4 Mob. A Primmer. Sir J. And what's your objection? Bruin. Why, I was never over fond of your May-games: besides corporations are too serious things; they are edgetools, sir Jacob. Sir J. That they are frequently tools, I of their edge. can readily grant: but I never heard much Afterwards we find the knight exclaiming Sir J. Hey-day! What, is the election over already? Enter Crispin, Heeltap, &c. Heel. Where is master Sneak! Heel. The ancient corporation of Garratt, in consideration of your great parts and abilities, and out of respect to their landlord, sir Jacob, have unanimously chosen you mayor. Sneak. Me? huzza! Good lord, who vould have thought it? But how came master Primmer to lose it?. Heel. Why, Phil Fleam had told the electors, that master Primmer was an Irishman; and so they would none of them give their vote for a foreigner. Sneak. So then I have it for certain. [Huzza! |