Gossip in the First Decade of Victoria's Reign

The first notice I can find (in this year) of these riots is in the Times of 10 Jan., in which is the following paragraph from the Welshman:

“The state of society in Wales may surprise some of our English readers, especially when we acquaint them with the fact, that there has been, for some months past, in the neighbourhood of St. Clear, a mob of lawless depredators, amounting to about 600, who assembled nightly, for the purpose of destroying the turnpike gates on the various lines of road in the neighbourhood of St. Clear. These ruffians are headed by a very tall man, dressed, for disguise, as a female, who goes by the name of Rebecca; and, as many of his associates are likewise dressed as females, the whole gang have been christened ‘Rebecca and her daughters.’ These men are nearly all ably mounted, and are a terror to the neighbouring country. The Pwiltrap gate has been destroyed a great number of times and as frequently replaced by the trustees of the road; but, immediately after its re-erection, the fellows have invariably assembled in greater force than before; and, riding up to the gate, the following interesting colloquy has taken place. The leader of the mob, addressing the others in Welsh, says, ‘My children this gate has no business here, has it?’ to which her children reply, that it has not; the mother again asks, what is to be done with it, when the children reply, that it should be levelled with the ground. They then immediately break it down, and disperse in different directions.

“This system has continued for a length of time; and, although a reward of £50 has been offered, not one of the offenders has been discovered. About 100 constables have been sworn in, and three constables from London are down there; but all precautions are ineffectual; for so surely as the constables show the slightest diminution of their vigilance, Rebecca and her daughters appear, and level the gates. A very short time ago, the policemen were after a fellow whom they suspected to belong to the gang and, while at a public house, baiting their horse, Rebecca and her daughters suddenly came in sight, and the affrighted officers of the law were obliged to fly for their lives. The gates have now been re-erected, and no fresh act of violence has occurred since the 16th ult., but the organisation of the depredators still continues; and, it is feared, will break out with fresh violence if the constabulary force be removed.”

That this movement was serious and no joke, is evidenced by the fact that I have, in my notes, 45 paragraphs in the Times on the subject.

From Pembroke and Caermarthen, it gradually spread to Cardiganshire, on one side, and to Radnorshire and Glamorganshire, on the other. Brecknockshire, alone of the South Wales counties, enjoyed exemption from these disturbances. The destruction which the rioters effected in some of these districts was most extensive and unsparing. There were, at the time of the outbreak, between 100 and 150 gates, including side bars and chains, in the county of Caermarthen; of these, no less than between 70 and 80 were destroyed, the toll-houses, as well as the gates and posts, being, in many cases, razed to the ground; in some trusts not a single gate was left standing. In Pembrokeshire, and in one of the divisions of Cardiganshire, the destruction was carried on in the same wholesale manner. The trustees, at first, re-erected the gates which had been broken down, but they were again as speedily demolished by the rioters; again they were rebuilt, and again they were levelled with the ground. The trustees were, at length, compelled to desist, and the roads were left free of toll. None of these counties, except Glamorgan, possessed a paid constabulary, or any other force which could be of avail in checking the proceedings of the rioters; and the magistrates finding all local efforts unavailing, were obliged to appeal to Government for protection and support.

One of the boldest steps ventured on by the insurgents, whose confidence was, of course, much increased by their uninterrupted success, was an entry, which was made, at midday, into the town of Caermarthen, by a large body of persons on the 10th of June. About noon, the rioters began to march into the town, through the Water Street gate, which they had destroyed some time before. They were headed by a band. The leading body consisted of some thousands on foot, many of whom were Chartists and rabble of the town; a large number of women was among the crowd, and men bearing inflammatory placards. They were followed by a man in disguise, representing Rebecca; some bearing brooms with which to sweep the foundations of the tollhouse and the workhouse, and the rear was brought up by about 300 farmers on horseback. They paraded the town, passing the Hall and hooting the magistrates, and proceeded to the workhouse, which they attacked. They climbed over the high wall with which the building was surrounded, and then burst open the lodge gates and the porter’s door; the horsemen rode into the yard, and surrounded the premises; and the rioters on foot soon forced an entrance into the building, and commenced their work of destruction. While the rioters were in the act of pulling down the inner doors and partitions of the Board Room, and other parts of the premises, and pitching the beds out of windows, the governor was ringing the alarm bell; and, in the midst of the tumult, came the military.

Representations of the excited state of the neighbourhood had been sent to the Home Office, and a troop of the 4th Light Dragoons had been ordered from Cardiff. An express from Caermarthen had met the Dragoons at four o’clock in the morning, just after they had passed through Neath, and were still 31 miles from their destination. They pushed on, riding the last 15 miles in an hour and a half, two horses dying from fatigue as they entered the town. They were met by one of the Magistrates, who led them to the Workhouse and read the Riot Act. The rioters were summoned to surrender; but they made an attempt to rush on the military. The Dragoons charged, using the flat of their swords, and soon put the rioters, outside the wall, to flight. Those within offered some resistance; and, for a moment, the edge of the sword was turned upon them, when they succumbed. Many escaped over the wall; but about 100 were taken prisoners, and several horses were abandoned by their riders. The disturbance which menaced so seriously the safety of the town, was thus happily put an end to, without any bloodshed or calamitous result.

As time advanced, the insurrection, which had at first been lightly thought of, and for which much allowance had been made, under the belief that the people had real grievances to complain of, assumed a more malignant and dangerous aspect. The farmers and peasantry, who in their impatience under the vexations of the tolls, had commenced it, soon fell into the hands of ill-disposed and designing men, who aggravated the excitement that prevailed, and availed themselves of the name and disguise of “Rebecca,” in order to carry out their own evil and lawless purposes. Threatening letters were one of the means most freely resorted to; and great numbers, under the signature of “Rebecca,” were sent about the country, conveying the most sanguinary menaces to those whose conduct had, in any way, given offence to the dastardly writers. Certain rules were laid down by conclaves of the disaffected, respecting the occupation of farms; and all who presumed to contradict the edicts of this invisible authority, were marked out, and denounced as victims to the just vengeance of Rebecca. The more active magistrates, as well as the tithe-owners and clergy, were made the special objects of this cowardly system of intimidation. In some instances, the rioters proved that their threats were not without meaning. Guns were fired into the houses of persons who had fallen under the popular displeasure. Some had their property fired, or otherwise injured; and a growing feeling of alarm and insecurity began to pervade the peaceable and well-disposed portion of the community. This feeling was further increased by a cold-blooded and shocking act of murder, committed on a poor old woman who kept a turnpike, called the Hendy gate, on the confines of Glamorganshire and Caermarthenshire. A party of rioters came to attack the gate at which she lived, and one of the number, actuated by some motive which was not distinctly accounted for, fired at her, and shot her dead. A coroner’s inquest sat upon the body, and all the facts attending the revolting transaction were fully and clearly stated in evidence; but, such was the excitement of feeling then prevailing in the neighbourhood, or such the influence of fear exercised over the minds of the jurymen who investigated the case, that they actually brought in a verdict: “That the deceased died from suffusion of blood, which produced suffocation, but from what cause, is, to the jurors, unknown!”

By the continuance of these outrages, which threatened, ’ere long, to disorganise society, and render the tenure of life and property, in Wales, insecure, the Government were, at length, aroused to the necessity of adopting very vigorous measures for the enforcement and vindication of the law. A large body of troops was sent down to Wales, and a general officer, of skill and experience, appointed to the command of the disturbed districts. A strong body of London police was imported, to exercise their skill in ferreting out the actors in these lawless exploits, who had so long succeeded in eluding detection. The districts most infested by the Rebeccaites were closely occupied by parties of soldiers, some of whom were quartered, at short intervals, in the villages and hamlets wherein mischief was suspected to lurk, and in the neighbourhood of turnpike gates, which had, previously, been the objects of attack. It was not, however, the policy of the insurgents to place themselves in open collision with the soldiers; but the clandestine and shifting mode of warfare which they had adopted with so much success, was but imperfectly counteracted by the presence of a military force. Under cover of the night, and with the advantages afforded by a knowledge of the country, and the sympathy of the population, they could sweep down a gate, which was but the work of a few minutes, with very little risk of interruption or discovery. The presence of the police and soldiers, if it could not entirely put an end to the attacks on the turnpikes, prevented the disaffected from proceeding to further acts of violence, and checked the growth of a conspiracy which might, otherwise, have gone to the full length of open rebellion. From this, and other causes, the spirit of disturbance in Wales began to decline, about the latter end of the summer. The most obnoxious of the turnpike gates had been swept away; and, on some of the trusts, the trustees had announced their determination not to re-erect those which were most complained of as oppressive. Some of the more active leaders of the riots were captured, in an affray with the County police, on the borders of Glamorganshire, and the terrors of a Special Commission impended over the Principality.

The movement was even dramatised, and on 20 Sep., at the Royal Amphitheatre, Liverpool, was produced a new play, called: “Rebecca and her Daughters; or, Paddy the Policeman”; the programme of scenery etc., as described on the play bill being: “Vigilance of the civil and military authorities; £100 reward for the apprehension of Rebecca, and £10 for each of her daughters; False alarm; Invincible courage of the Yeomanry; Arrival of the London Police in disguise; Paddy Whack undertakes to capture the delinquents; Admonitions to the Constabulary; The inspection; Mysterious appearance of Rebecca and her daughters in the Glen of Llandilo, at midnight; Tried before the Justice of the Peace; Happy denouement.”

I can find only one reference to Rebecca in connection with London – and that refers to a bar in Gower Street, which was taken down some few years since. It occurs in the Times of 30 Sep.: “During the last two or three days, considerable excitement has prevailed in the northern suburbs of the Metropolis, in consequence of rumours obtaining circulation that threatening notices had been posted about, signed, ‘Rebecca,’ intimating that it was the intention of that lady and her daughters to destroy the various turnpike and other gates, which they were pleased to term ‘public obstructions.’ It appears that these rumours were not altogether unfounded; for, whether intended as a joke, or otherwise, the doings of the notorious Rebecca and her daughters in Wales, have, in reality, found persons foolhardy enough to follow their example in London. A few evenings since, Mr. Hill, the porter and keeper of the gate at the London University College, which crosses Gower Street, and prevents carriages from passing along the front of University College Hospital, received a letter, with the signature of ‘Rebecca’ attached, declaring it to be the intention of herself and others to remove the ‘obstruction called a gate’ on the following night. Mr. Hill, thinking the matter a joke, took no notice of the circumstance; but, to his astonishment, early in the morning following the night on which the threatened attack was promised, he was awakened by the night porter, who informed him that the gate (a large wooden one, such as the ordinary toll bars) was gone. On examination, it was found that not only had the large padlock by which it was fastened, been broken and carried away, but the gate had absolutely been filed off its hinges, and conveyed by the depredators into the College grounds, and hidden behind some shrubs. The gate has again been re-instated; but, since the occurrence, Mr. Hill has received another threatening notice, informing him that it is the intention of Rebecca and her daughters, on Monday night next, to effect its entire destruction. What is most extraordinary in connection with the affair is, that the gate should have been removed without the knowledge of the police, the beats of two constables joining close to the spot, or that of the night porters, either at the College, or the Hospital. It is to be remarked that frequent complaints have been made at the erection of the gate in question, as it interrupts the otherwise direct communication between Holborn and Broad Street, Bloomsbury, with the Hampstead Road, and compels carriages, etc., to go considerably out of the way round Sussex and University Streets, before they can get into the New Road.”

CHAPTER XX

Gretna Green parsons – Number of marriages – Chinese indemnity – Thames tunnel – The aerial machine – Treasure trove – Accident to Mr. Brunel – Arkwright’s will – Secession in the Scotch Church – The “Gent” – Shakspere’s autograph.

At this time, Gretna Green marriages were in full blast (they were only made unlawful in 1856), and we learn from the Carlisle Journal, copied into the Times of 20 Feb., something about the Parsons: “We observe by announcement in some of the London papers, that some worthy gentlemen in London, are about to enlighten the public on the subject of Gretna Green marriages, by the publication of a book called The Gretna Green Memoirs, by Robert Elliott, with an introduction and appendix by the Rev. Caleb Brown. In addition to this information, we have been honoured with a copy of what Mr. Elliott calls a ‘cercler,’ which he is desirous we should publish as a paragraph for the benefit of our readers. From this ‘cercler’ we learn that ‘this interesting work contains an accurate account of remarkable elopements, pursuits, anecdotes, etc., never before published.’ Then we are further informed that there is ‘in the press,’ to be published by subscription, The Gretna Green Register, containing the names of 7,744 persons married by Robert Elliott, the Gretna Green Parson. It is added, that ‘the whole is being carefully printed from the original registers, written and kept by himself.’ The Gretna Green Parson, we suspect, has fallen into dishonest hands, or he would not have suffered it to be said that he was about to publish registers which never had existence. The Gretna Green Parson is pretty well known in this neighbourhood. He married a grand daughter of old Joe Paisley, the ‘original’ blacksmith; and, after the death of that worthy ‘parson,’ he set up an opposition shop, in the marriage line to David Laing, who had acquired some notoriety in the business. This was in 1811, and he continued to ‘trade’ until 1822, when it either fell away from him, or he from it. His reverence subsequently condescended to act as horsekeeper, or hostler, at one of the inns in this city, and a few months ago was sent for to London, as a witness, in some marriage case, and is now set up as an author! We suspect the whole thing is an attempt to gull the public into the purchase of a book of inventions. If 7,000 were deducted from the names of those to be inserted in the ‘Register,’ the number would still exceed, by many a score, those who were actually ‘married,’ as it is called, by ‘Robert Elliott, the Gretna Green Parson.’”

The poor “Parson” could not stand this attack on his veracity, and wrote a letter to the Times, which appeared in its issue of 23 Feb., in which he does not deny the bulk of the paragraph taken from the Carlisle Journal, but gives his figures as to his matrimonial business: he says that in the following years; he married so many couples:

He says he married 7,744 persons, but, either his arithmetic, according to the above account, is faulty, or there is an inaccuracy in the Times figures.

On 3 March arrived, in London, the first instalment of the Chinese indemnity – £1,000,000, all in silver. I remember seeing the dock wagons guarded by soldiers, and wondering, until told, what they contained. Some more arrived on the 7th.

The Thames Tunnel was opened to the public on 25 March, with as much ceremony as a private company could manage. There were the Lord Mayor, the directors, and a host of scientific persons, who solemnly went in procession down the staircase on the Rotherhithe side, passed along the western archway of the Tunnel, ascended and descended the staircase at Wapping, and returned through the eastern archway. In the evening there was a grand dinner at the “London Tavern,” where “Prosperity to the Thames Tunnel” was drunk in some wine which had been preserved from the commencement of the enterprise, to celebrate its completion.

As with motor cars, so with aeronautics, the time of which I write, was well in advance. We know of Sen. Santos Dumont’s performances with his motor balloon, in connection with the Eiffel Tower, but Mr. Samuel Henson was before him in applying mechanical power in aeronautics. He took out a patent (No. 9,478), dated 29 Sep., 1842, for “Apparatus and machinery for conveying letters, goods and passengers, from place to place through the air.”

It was an aeroplane. The car which contained passengers, engineer, engines, etc., was suspended in the centre of a framework, which combined strength with lightness, covered with a light, but close, woven fabric. It was started by descending an inclined plane, the impetus from which caused it to rise in the air, when the steam engine was put in action, to continue its motion. The area of the sustaining surface was some 4,500 square feet, and the weight to be borne by it, including the carriage, etc., was estimated at 3,000lbs., which was claimed to be considerably less per square foot than that of many birds.

In April, 1843 – but on what exact date I do not know, an experimental voyage was made from the Hill of Dumbuck, near Glasgow, by Professor Geolls. He successfully negotiated the descent of the inclined plane, and rapidly rose in the air, until he reached an altitude of nearly 3 miles. Feeling giddy, he determined to descend to a mile and a half above the earth. “This I easily effected by depressing the tail of the machine, which, up to this moment, I had kept at an angle with the horizon of 9¾ degrees, to that of 45. My course I had not varied since leaving the hill; it was, per compass, south-west, and by west, half-west, passing over Ayrshire, and in a direct line from Dumbuck to Ailsa Craig, whither, indeed, I was tending, with the view of landing, the latter being admirably suited for launching the machine in a similar way to that adopted at Dumbuck, on my return home again.

“Daylight had now broken, and the scene was most gorgeous. I passed many ships; and, in particular, one steamer, but whose paltry speed, in comparison with mine, was nothing. Alas! however, this was not destined to last; for, just as I had shot ahead of the steamer, something went wrong with the machinery, and the fanners stopped. This did not at all alarm me; for, as described by Mr. Henson, these fanners are only necessary for propulsion, and not at all requisite for maintaining the machine in the air. Unfortunately, however, I perfectly forgot, in the hurry of the moment, to remove the weights from the safety valve, and the effects from this were disastrous in the extreme. The great accumulation of steam that took place was too much for the pipes; and, consequently, bang went three of them, at the same instant. The machine, at this exact moment, feeling its equilibrium altered, surged considerably, and the remaining pipes necessarily followed the example of the others: fizz – bizz – whizz, away they went, one after the other, like pop guns. Unfortunately, one of these pipes, in flying off, struck a bamboo stretcher, and shattered it so, that the machine, losing bearance on one side, toppled over and became perfectly unmanageable; she, in fact, whirled over and over in a way that may be imagined, but which it is altogether impossible to describe.

“I, of course, was now descending with fearful rapidity, and nothing was left me to contemplate but death and destruction. I can only compare my sensations at this moment to those experienced in a nightmare, which, everyone knows, are not the most agreeable in the world. Sensibility now forsook me; and, indeed, this was not to be wondered at, in consequence of the whirling of the machine. On coming to my senses again, I found myself in bed, with severe headache, nausea and vomiting, the usual accompaniments of such a flight through the air; but, thanks to Providence, I am now in a fair way of recovery, and willing to perform the same feat again.”

Luckily for the aeronaut, the accident was seen by the master of a steamer, who sent a boat to his assistance, but the machine was lost.

We often hear of “treasure trove,” but seldom find the owner. However, here is a case: On 11 April, the magistrate at Clerkenwell Police Court had a man named Benjamin Thomas, and five other labourers, brought before him, under the following circumstances. It seems they had been recently engaged in grubbing up the roots of some trees in Tufnell Park, Holloway, when they found, buried in the earth, two jars full of sovereigns, supposed to have amounted to £400. They divided the money between them; but it was claimed by Mr. Henry Tufnell, as Lord of the Manor; and all of them consented to give up what they had, except Thomas, who said that his share was £51, but that he had spent, or lost it. The sum recovered only amounted to £231 17s. Thomas was remanded for a few days, but, in the interval, a new claimant appeared, in the person of Mr. Joseph Frost, of the firm of J. and J. Frost, brass founders in Clerkenwell. It appeared that, some time in August last year, in a temporary fit of mental delusion, he had carried the money out at night, and buried it. Mr. Tufnell waived his claim in favour of Mr. Frost, and Thomas was committed for trial, on the charge of feloniously appropriating the money to his own use.

A very curious accident happened to Brunel, the eminent engineer. He was playing with the child of a friend, pretending to swallow a half-sovereign, and bring it out at his ear, when it slipped, and stuck in his trachæa, whence it could not be disloged. This must have been in the latter part of April, for it is mentioned in the Times of 28 April, as having occurred some short time previously. All efforts of the surgeons could not reach the coin, even though they constructed a machine which suspended him by the heels, when he was shaken and thumped. On 27 April Sir B. Brodie performed trachæotomy on the unfortunate gentleman, but without avail; so they waited until he had somewhat recovered, and again hung him up by his heels. This was on 13 May, and, after a few gentle thumps, the half-sovereign quitted its place, and dropped out of his mouth, without causing him any pain or inconvenience.