CORO Skteches of Society. (New Monthly Magazine, Nov.) JONATHAN KENTUCKY'S JOURNAL. July 19, 1821. ORONATION DAY. Awakened at three o'clock, A. M. with the offer of tickets for the Hall and the Abbey. Thinking, however, that to get up at such an hour to see a sight which was not to commence till ten, would be, as we Americans say, "to give too much for my whistle," I turned about upon my pillow to take another nap, and resolved to spend the day in an excursion to Windsor. This is a truly royal residence; realizing what the imagination--warm from the perusal of a tale of chivalry-would figure out as the palace of a king. Nothing can be more grand than the park and the castle;--proudly placed as it is on a commanding eminence. The prospect from the terrace is, in the strictest sense of the word, superb. The eye ranges over a vast expanse of rich, populous, and luxuriant landscape; the extent of which may perhaps be collected from a board upon the leads of the Round Tower-that twelve counties are visible. Combined with this general character of magnificence, there is also ough of particular objects of interest To arrest the attention of the spectator, and interrupt the usual monotony of a bird's eye view. Thus the "antique towers,' ," that rise up in the "watery glade" below, present a delightful feature, upon which all must dwell with pleasure, even without remembering the "Ode to Eton College." Perhaps, indeed, the pleasure derived from the ode is greater than the actual contemplation of the reality;-just as it happens too in painting, that a picture will often delight us more than the very scene in Nature from which it has been taken, that is, if the picture contain, as it ought, evidence of the mind of the painter, in the feeling and sentiment infused into it by the creative power of his pencil. But to return:-the Castle is a splendid pile of building, the work of many tastes and many hands, commenced and continued in different centuries. The late King did much to embellish and improve it, particularly by removing the round windows with which Charles the Second had deformed it, and substituting the gothic arch in their stead. The Chapel of St. George and the Knights of the Garter the scene of their installation, and the repository of their banners—is a part of the pile; and is worthy of the castle to which it is appended. In traversing the stately halls, the rusty armouries, and the deserted chambers of this majestic structure, we are carried back irresistibly to the days of the Edwards and the Henries, when kings lived in castles, and founded colleges;-and when courts were something different from those of modern times. It would seem at first sight as if human nature were degenerated, and that kings had shrunk from their ancient dimensions, and that with the robes of their ancestors, they had also lost the royal spirit that used to reign in the halls of those palaces that are now forsaken. Or, is it that kings, be ing born to inhabit and inherit palaces, look to a humbler residence with the same feelings of envy with which men in lower life regard the castles of their superiors;-in other words, that a cottage is to a king, what a palace is to a peasant? How else can we account for George the Third's living for so many years in the lodge, as it is called;-an ordinary dwelling-house, which he himself built under the very walls of his Castle, and which still remains an eyesore on the prospect, blocking up the view towards the Great Park. The present King too leaves the halls of Edward's hospitality untenanted, to spend thousands and tens of thousands upon a thatched cottage in his own park. But such is the perversity of human nature, which is never contented with legitimate gratification, but delights to steal its pleasures from a forbidden source, and is always most ardent in the pursuit of unattainable happiness. The advantages which naturally belong to our situation, however splendid they may be, we consider as belonging to us by our birthright; and the pleasures which ought to flow from these, like a wife we shun, And ne'er enjoy, because they are our own." We lingered as long as the day allow ed, roaming about the courts of the Castle; we read Geoffry Crayon's chapter in the room of the Round Tower, and were glad we were not born with crowns on our heads, that we might enjoy in full perfection the witchery of the scene around us. July 27-A morning in Newgate. I had long been anxious to see with my own eyes the effect of Mrs. Fry's benevolent exertions, and, having obtained from her an order of admittance, I repaired at ten o'clock to the door of the keeper's house, where, upon the production of my ticket, I was instantly conducted to a small room in which some other visitors were already assembled; and in a short time, Mrs. Fry entered, attended by two of her quaker sisterhood. Soon afterwards a bell was rung, to give notice to the female prisoners to prepare themselves; and upon the second ringing they came in, to the number of forty or fifty, and ranged themselves upon benches raised one above the other for their reception. Their appearance was much better than I could have expected. All were cleanlily and decently dressed, and there was in some a neatness of person that bespoke a familiarity with better company and better days. After a considerable pause, Mrs. Fry began to read from the Bible, the story of Mary Magdalen, accompanying the text with occasional explanations and remarks, and concluding the whole with a very affecting address, in which she pointed out the obvious application of the story, and the consolation to be extracted from it. All this was done too in so gentle and encouraging a tone, and with so much temper and discretion, that it was impossible not to be moved by the quiet pathos of her discourse. I was never before so much impressed with the importance of manner; for it was certainly much less what she said than 2K ATHENEUM VOL. 10. articles of needle-work, the productions At the close of the lecture, various of the prisoners' industry, caps, dressing-gowns, baby-linen, rugs, counterpanes, bell-ropes, &c. were brought out, which found ready purchasers amongst the visitors. For myself, I shall wear my patch-gown as long as the shreds will hang together, in remembrance of my morning in Newgate. Mrs. Fry now conducted us round the female side of the prison, explaining the nature of her regulations, and recounting the obstacles against which, in the sume. had to contend, in all the different first commencement of her labours, she shapes and modifications that idleness, riot, vice, and wretchedness, can asIt seems, however, that there that may not be touched by kindness. is scarcely any disposition so depraveđ Mrs. Fry have succeeded in softening The patient and persevering efforts and reclaiming the most hardened, whom severity would probably have rate. There is a shame of appearing rendered only more callous and despeungrateful, which operates strongly even in the most vicious breast. Mrs. Fry told us, that when, as it sometimes will happen, a prisoner after her discharge finds her way back into gaol for some fresh offence, the delinquent is than of facing the reproof of the more afraid of meeting her kindness, Bench : circle of gaol-delivered children learning to read. I was pleased at the alacrity of attention, which in the midst of her own occupation Mrs. Fry bestowed upon the least of those around her. A very little boy was employed in reading his Testament, at which she appeared surprised; but, finding that he had really made this progress, she called him out in the most encouraging manner, and begged us all to stop and hear him read a verse aloud, as a reward for his industry. It is not every woman who would be content to yield, even for a moment, the first place in the attention of her company. Lastly, we came to a ward where there were a few ragged wretched creatures, who were just admitted into the gaol;-and we were all forcibly struck, not only with the difference of dress, but with the marked contrast between the wild, savage, and reprobate cast of features of these, when compared with the quiet, orderly, and resigned demeanour of Mrs. Fry's flock. And yet I hear that this amiable woman's labours are decried and ridiculed, as the vain and visionary offspring of a perverted philanthropy. If there be such persons in the world, let them devote a morning to Newgate ;-and if those who came to scoff do not remain to approve, Charity must have lost all her powers of attraction. There is, perhaps, no part of the art of government in which so little progress has been made as in the prevention of crimes; for it is the punishment rather than the prevention of crime which seems to be almost the exclusive object of the laws. So much so, that it would seem crimes were sometimes encouraged, in order that they might be punished. This, however, is a large question, and it is easier to see the evil, than to point out the remedy. Still, while things remain as they are, we should be grateful to those who undertake the task of reclaiming the wicked; feeling, as we must, how much, as the world goes, virtue and vice-at least, as far as regards the eighth commandment-are merely the result of situation, and that "handy dandy, which is the hangman, and which the thief?" July 30.-A pugilistic pasticcio at the Fives Court in St. Martin's-street. I had long been anxious to witness a good exhibition of this sort, and the present, being for Tom Belcher's benefit who is a great favourite with the Fancy, afforded a good opportunity of gratifying my curiosity. A large crowd was assembled in the street for some time before the doors were opened, and the general eagerness to get in occasioned a considerable crush. Not that there was any thing to be gained by this impetuosity; for as we all stood in the area of the Fives Court, in the middle of which was raised the platform for the combatants, those who came last were as well placed as those who came first. The diversion began with clumsy sparring between some young beginners, who were desirous of attracting notice as candidates for pugilistic honours. There was little skill or science in the first setting-to of these heroes, and the little they had was lost in the irritation produced by the first round, so that the contest soon became a mere rivalry of hard hits, which was put an end to when the company thought they were sufficiently glutted with the flavour of each other's knuckles, by a cry of "enough! enough!" A general shower of silver and copper then took place, of which these worthies seemed to bide the pelting with great glee, so that the proverb of "more kicks than halfpence" could not, I hope, be applicable to either. At last we had a rich scientific display of the whole art of attack and defence, by Spring and Harmer, and Belcher and Eales. Whatever objections may be made to a prize-fight, there can surely be none to the muffled mimicry of a sparring-match. It is impossible not to admire the symmetry of the combatants, who, stripped to the waist, and in all the exertion of nerve and muscle, might often furnish a study to the sculptor. And then to see them with eye fixed on eye;-to read as it were the conception of the intended blow in the mind, before the hand has had time to carry the will into effect; to watch the awful business of preparation-the attitudinising of the guard -the parley of provocation-and all : peculiar to themselves, and they may be almost said to speak a language of their own. Some of their terms are the graceful variety of action and posture that arises out of the rapid succession of hitting, stopping, manoeuvring, rallying, advancing, and retreating humorous enough to deserve recording. this is a fine sight, and even ladies When a man appears to advantage out might look on, without being shocked, of his clothes, he is said to buff well; te at so bloodless and blameless a specta- knock a man down is to floor him; a cle of human exertion. blow in the mouth is a mugger; and if, in addition to this, an injury should be done to the teeth, it is called a rattling of the box of dominos; the old phrase of a punch in the g-ts is now termed an attack upon the victualling office; and all the varieties of punishing are designated by such appellations as, a lashing hitter,-a swishing hitter, or a rum customer. Their very oaths are of an original cast; and I venture to set down at random a few specimens of their slang which happened to strike my ear. There was one who was continually exclaiming,-" Burn my breeches ;" another, with a higher reach of imagination, "Thunder me dead;" and Dutch Sam astonished us by the following poetical description of his manner of treating his opponents: pu The Fancy, as the amateurs of the art of boxing are called, appear to form a distinct class among the innumerable sects and parties into which England is divided. They are by no means confiued to the lower orders, but may reckon a large proportion of rank and talent amongst their numbers. To understand the theory, if not the practice, of boxing, is considered in this country as one of the accomplishments of a gentleman. The great professor of the gilistic art, Mr. Jackson, has a spacious school in the most fashionable street in London; and here may be contemplated a picture of the "youth of England," which will verify at a glance the assertion of Burke, that the age of chivalry is over. Tilts and tournaments have had their day; squires have been transformed into bottle-holders; and though the ring still retains its name, it has strangely changed its signification. Something of the spirit of chivalry, however, has survived its fall, and still regulates the contests of the ring. To shake hands is always the prologue of a battle, as the pledge of fair hostility between the combatants; and to strike an adversary on the ground would still be considered a disgrace to pugilism. I have always admired the trait of generous forbearance which is recorded of the famous Chicken in his battle with Jem Belcher. He had given his adversary a facer that laid him sprawling upon his back on the ropes which encircled the ring, and when he had an opportunity of repeating his blow, he refrained from taking advantage of the occasion. A sentiment of compassion for his old associate prevailed over the passion of the moment, and contenting himself with shaking his fist over his prostrate antagonist, his feelings found a vent in the following strange but characteristic expression: "G-d-n thee, Jem, I won't hurt thee!" The phrase ology indeed of the Fancy in general is "When they walk round me, I break down their guard and give 'em a punch in the face; just like the sun, Sir, lets the planets dance about him and sends a comet at 'em." There seems indeed about all this fraternity a quaint humour, which enlivens their conversation with a raciness of repartee that cannot fail to amuse when it is heard for the first time. The following dialogue which passed in our hearing, may perhaps serve as an example:“I say, Tom, have you heard what has happened to Dick Symonds ?” “No,” answered Tom, "not I; what! is he dead?" "Why, if he a'nt, they have used him very ill, for they buried him last Saturday." But enough of the race of prize-fighters. They are all much indebted to Mr. Jackson, who has given a sort of respectability to their vocation, while his school has spread a general taste for the noble art of fisticuffs. As he is probably the finest model of Herculean proportion that has appeared for many years, I record a few particulars of his size and stature, as well as some feats of his strength. His height is five feet eleven inches, and he weighs within half a pound of fifteen stone in his contemplation of the new establishment. clothes. Some time ago he lifted 84lb. It is a handsome and spacious building, on his little finger, and wrote his name, not decorated with too much architecJohn Jackson, on the wall of Alderman tural magnificence without, to mock, as Combe's drawing-room. On another it were, the misery within, but plain occasion he lifted 2 cwt. with his teeth, and simple in its exterior; and the care and 10 cwt. with both his hands. He of the architect seems to have been has very appropriately placed on the properly confined to its true object,-wall of his school a fine engraving rep- the convenience and well-being of the resenting an Italian scene, in which, patients. It is calculated to accommothe usage of the stiletto is exemplified: date two hundred; and nothing can exfrom which, I suppose, he would lead ceed the neatness, even to nicety, of the us to infer, that it is better to teach men whole establishment, in all the details the use of their fists than leave it to of its provisions for carrying on the daily their own malice to suggest more mis- incidents of life, connected with eating, chievous weapons. drinking, and sleeping. There was nothing to offend the sight or the smell; and even in those unhappy cases, where the patients had lost all mental and bodily control, the most complete arrangements were made for securing their cleanliness and comfort, to an extent indeed that could scarcely be looked for in a charity institution, where the patients are received and maintained gratuitously out of the funds of the hospital. Sept. 15.-Visit to Bedlam. My mind was so full of the dreadful recol lections of what I had heard of the old hospital of this name in Moor-fields, that I went prepared to have my feelings harrowed up by the most awful and distressing scenes of human suffering. What then was my surprise to find the New Bethlehem not only divested of every thing shocking and terrible, but exhibiting a character of cheerfulness and comfort that could scarcely be expected to enliven the gloomy abodes of Madness. Nothing can well demonstrate more convincingly the inevitable tendency of all power to abuse, and the necessity of constant vigilance to prevent the degeneracy and perversion of all human institutions, than the state of the old Bedlam Hospital. Will it be believed that, in the nineteenth century, in the heart of the British metropolis, and under the superintendence of physicians of the highest reputation for intelligence and humanity, a system of cruelty was exposed that would disgrace the worst history of the worst times. In one cell was found a poor wretch who had been chained down to his bedstead for twelve years under a load of fetters -compared with which Trenck's were a plaything--that scarcely allowed him liberty enough to turn himself round. No one ever entered the door of his dungeon. His food was pushed in through a hole in the wall; and there he was left to linger out his life without help or hope, till he was rescued by the arrival of the commissioners of inquiry. The heart sickens at the thought of such misery, and gladly turns to the . Our visit was made under the most advantageous circumstances; for, just as we arrived, Mr. D, the governor of St. Luke's was announced, whose object being the same as our own, we went round the hospital together. There was only one patient under restraint, and he was confined in his cell by a light chain. This was a desperate maniac, who had a few days before committed a savage murder on the person of a fellow-patient. He had found, in grubbing up the gravel of one of the court-yards, the blade of an old knife, which he contrived to fix in a handle of wood, and having sharpened it for his purpose, he seized upon his victim, and in the middle of the day, in the presence of a crowd of spectators, laid him prostrate at his feet, with twenty mortal gashes "the least a death to nature.” All the rest were at large, taking exercise in the courts, or roaming about the galleries, the windows of which, with a view to their amusement, were made to command a prospect of the adjacent road. In the course of our round we approached the bed of an old man who was languishing in the last stage of a palsy. He addressed Mr. D as |