GLIMPSES OF “LIFE IN LONDON.”

New Zealander, Volume 9, Issue 706, 19 January 1853, Page 2

GLIMPSES OF “LIFE IN LONDON.”

From the “ Times.” It is our endeavour as far as possible to confine the discussions in the leading columns of The Times to subjects of a serious character. When, for example, any notice of the administration of justice is found in this portion of our columns, it is because some right remains without vindication or some outrage unredressed. For once we will venture to violate this rule. We do not call upon our readers for any display of indignation, nor ask them to tax their reasoning faculties very heavily, for no injustice has been done and no nice point of law remains in abeyance. It may be, however that amidst the heavy uniformity of Maynooth discussions and the twenty-fold repetition of Militia orators, a few drops fresh from the pure fountam of London life may not fall without a genial influence upon the parched imagination of the British politician. The fact is, that in the course of the last few days our police reporters have furnished ns with three of the most grotesque cases which have ever been brought under the notice of the London magistrates. We would not willingly let them fade into oblivion without notice—for if they cannot serve as texts for discussing the defects of magisterial jurisdiction, at least they may serve to illustrate the grotesque lights and shadows of Loudon life. There is plenty of unobserved misery even in our most public thoroughfares; it would be strange, indeed, if there were not some set-off in the shape of a little unnoticed fun. As an illustration of this position we shall request the reader’s company to the Ilaymarket, to Hanging Sword-alley, and to Shoreditch. It was about 12 o’clock oil the night of Tuesday last, and the lion. Alfred Crofton, one of the Pages of Honour to Her Most Gracious Majesty, found himself considerably bored with the society of Upper Berkeley-street. It may also be that a desire for tobacco pervaded his soul, and that in those polite regions the medicinal properties of that precious weed were not appreciated as they should be by right. Be this, however, as itmay, the Page of Honour stuck a short “ clay,” well stuffed with the savoury herb, between his teeth, and sauntered out to the solitudes of Regent-street, that he might the better compose his mind for the solution of a few pestilent points in metaphysics which had hitherto escaped his research. Ulysses, however, could not avoid the Sirens, nor the Queen’s Page the blandishments of Miss Catherine Howard. No sooner had this lady caught sight of this young philosopher than she sought to enter into conversation with him. With a discretion above his years, Mr. Crofton strolled on withouttakingnotice of the importunate nymph. This was too much ; the spretce injuria formas worked like madnes in her brain. In the frenzy of the moment the maiden raised her white hand and shattered the youthful metaphysician’s white pipe. “ The pipe that is so lily white, “ la which so many take delight, “ Is broken by the touch ; “ Man’s life is but such, “ Think of this when you smoke tobacco!” So sang the old Elizabethan minstrel, and the “ scion” of the noble house of Howard put the doctrine to the test in a manner most painful to the feelings of an officer and a gentleman. The Queen’s Page straightway turned round, and handed the “ Lady in Waiting” over to the police authorities. This is, probably, the first case in our judicial records in which a King’s Page —a youth of 18—has prosecuted a young woman for breaking his penny pipe. “The age of chivalry is certainly extinct, &c., &c,” The next case is droll, from the unexpected turn of the magistrate’s decision. A young woman, another Kate, Hester by name, was brought up before Sir Peter Laurie upon suspicion of being concerned in a larceny. The evidence against her broke down, when suddenly the magistrate turned round, and, by way of summary conviction, sen-

fenced the prisoner to matrimony. It appeared that the young woman had accompanied her supposed husband and a friend of bis to a concert, at the “ Great Mogul.” As the party were returning from Covent-garden to Temple-bar Kate was missed. About the same time—that is at 2 in the morning—a policeman stated that she was seen in company with a reputed thief in Hanging-sword" alley. This second woman had abstracted a watch from the person of Mr. Adams,, of Stamford-hill, and, as it is presumed, engaged Kate Hester in conversation in order to allay suspicion. There was no fact beyond the one mentioned to connect her with the robbery, and the husband swore point blank that she had not been near the spot named all night. It was ascertained that the so-called husband was a most respectable man —in point of fact, that the only thing wrong about him was the lax character of his domestic arrangements. The female prisoner had lived with him many years but was not his wife. Hereupon Sir Peter Laurie ordered her to be discharged, and held forth as follows “ I shall, therefore, discharge her with an admonition, and hope she mil never come before me again and have to say sheis not your wife. (To the prisoner.) Will you marry this man ? (Laughter.) “ Prisoner.—Yes, Sir. “ Sir P. Laurie (to the husband). —Are you disposed to make her your wife ? “ The husband.—l have every wish to do so, Sir. “ Sir P. Laurie.—Very well, then ; you may now go home; and if 1 have been the means of knocking up ‘ a matrimonial match’ (great laughter) this inquiry will not have terminated with any vain results. “ The prisoner was then discharged.” Sir Peter proceeds with his matrimonial functions as merrily as the old Cyclops of Gretna Green. Life is" a strange hocus-pocus. Little could Mr. Hester anticipate that his evening’s pleasure at the “ Great Mogul,” and his morning’s appearance before the greater Mogul, would have led to the establishment of his Lares and Penates upon a proper basis. The strangest story remains tin told. We have heard of young gentlemen who were new to London life and its tricks and impostures, but such an instance of naivete as the following, is, probably without a parallel. A graduate—not an undergraduate—of St John’s College, Cambridge—was minded to pr* A from London to that seat of learning. H ; down to the Eastern Counties Railway, but ••v.-n u quarter of an hour too early for the train. : determined to while away the time by a stroll m the classical reg ons of Shoreditch. In these Arcadian regions he was accosted by a courteous stranger who inquired if “he “'would like to buy some good cigars ?” Mr. East, who should have been wise enough not to be caught by this stale trick, resisted the temptation for a few moments, but was in the end, and without much difficulty, persuaded to enter a low beershop, in order to investigate the quality of the goods. His original introducer disappeared, but took care to lock the door after him. Three men presently made their appearance with playingcards, and pretended to be engaged in play. After some little time one of them asked Mr. East if he should play for him ? To which Mr. East answered, “ No ! cer- “ tainly not, for I must be off by the train, if the “ man with the cigars is not back quickly.” The man Ricketts then went on playing, we copy Mr. East's own evidence, “ and said, * I shall “ ‘ win some money for the gentleman, I know,’ “ but I said nothincr as I was uncertain whether)ie “ meant me.” So matters went on until Mr. East rose to leave the room, but was prevented by Ricketts’ two companions, who claimed from him 151. or 20 1 , the sum, as they said, lost by Ricketts when playing on his account. Mr. East refused to comply with the demand, whereupon they stripped him of his watch and his rings, emptied his purse, and left him in the room with Ricketts alone. When they were gore this worthy personage invited to accompany him into the street, that they look after ihe thieves together. They went out accordingly into Shoreditch, and not seeing the men Mr. East asked his companion where they were, but Ricketts turned round upon him, treated him as an entire stranger and asked him what he was talking about. So Mr. East was left, like a simpleton as he was, in the middle of Shoreditch to make the best of his loss. He did not see his gambling friends again until the day of Hampton Races, when they were handed over to a policeman, and brought up the next day before Mr. D’Eyncourt at Worship-street. This is the third of our police cases. It is not often that three such strange stories—all of real life —will be told before magistrates on two consecutive days.