The late JOHN HOWELL, Esq. (the Sporting Tailor!) Enjoying the "otium cum dignitate" at Margate. (A "PATTERN-CARD" of Industry and Independence). "WIN GOLD AND WEAR IT." THE above adage, we believe, is generally admitted throughout most of the commercial circles of society to be completely in unison with the feelings of the people of England: but there are so many instances, in the Metropolis, of persons from the lowest grade, in the various walks of life, who have by their own industry, perseverance, and talents, raised themselves to eminence in the state, that, we are happy to observe, volumes might be filled with an account of their exertions, and quoted as praise-worthy examples for other folks "to Where has commerce such a mart; It might also be remarked, that many persons have realized large fortunes in the Me * The acquirement of that immense brewery, which belonged to the late Mr. THRALE, the former husband tropolis, with little more ability than by mere of the present Mrs. Piozzi (a lady highly distinguished for her literary talents), as related by Dr. Johnson, is an anecdote well worthy the perusal of every person who feels any sort of anxiety to raise himself in society. Mr. Thrale, to his great praise be it remembered, had but a salary of twelve shillings a week in the above large establishment, for many years after he had arrived at a state of manhood. His talents, however, enabled him to purchase that immense brewery. He also had a family of twelve children, which were brought up in the first style of elegance, and to whom, at his death, he left very large fortunes. Another instance of an enterprising mind is to be discovered in the person of the present Mr. ROTHSCHILD, who, from being a clerk in a mercantile house in Manchester, has, in the course of a few fleeting years, risen so rapidly in point of wealth, as to have been enabled to take the whole of a Government loan of five millions without assistance from any other house: a circumstance never before accomplished by an individual. It is said Mr. Rothschild is worth three millions of money. He has, likewise, most extensive establishments in France, Holland, Germany, and Spain. Indeed, he may be considered the first monied man in the world. It ought not to be forgotten that Mr. Rothschild is one of the first, also, in support of all public charities. It is likewise worthy of remark, that the present LUKE HANSARD, Esq., Printer to the House of Commons, treading in the steps of Mr. Thrale, has equally distinguished himself. This immense literary establishment has been realized by Mr. Luke Hansard, from his never-tiring industry ALONE! He arrived in London without a patron,-nay, more, without a friend. With the world only before him as a guide to his future exertions, he has performed an Herculean attempt. Mr. H. has also brought up a large family. His talents, as an expeditious printer, are so great, as to be without a rival. The House of Commons, for the last twenty-five years, have acknowledged the accuracy and expedition he has displayed, with the highest encomiums on his exertions. The above facts are introduced merely to show what HAS and what MAY be done with perseverance. Indeed, the Metropolis points out many great men in this respect-and surely such conduct is entitled to the term of great: volumes would not suffice to detail how many vast fortunes in London have been originated.-Life in London, 1821. with the warmth and rapture of a man of the world. Mr. Howell was well known for many years in London, to borrow the phrase of Tattersall's, as the "prime fit" of his day. He was of that class of character peculiar to England: having earned a fortune by industry, he held up his head and pursued the bent of his inclination with bold independence, though stamped with considerable eccentricity. His customers were of the best class; he lived in the happy days when the cash was forthcoming for his work; and although a few of his customers, to use his own words, were rather "long-winded," and he considered it ungenteel to ask a gentleman for money, yet most of the names in his books were as good as the bank directors. If any customer of property owed him £100, he would not take £99 19s. 11 d. for the debt. "Some difference, now-a-days!" he would lately say, laughing over his pipe: “the unthinking dashing sparks whitewash their long accounts for twist, tape, and buckram." Mr. Howell did business for a number of gentlemen connected with the turf; and the present sir Henry Goodriche was one of his greatest patrons. He was of a facetious turn of mind, and the above connection first gave him a taste for the sports of the field. He would often slily get a day's sporting-cut the shopboard, give the steel-bar rest, put his measures on the shelf, secure his shears, give his goose repose, and leave his pattern-card with his foreman. Mr. Howell himself never neglected his toilet; his clothes were always of the first quality and workmanship. He was aware that a 66 good appearance" in life had its weight with every class of society. He therefore, in his relaxations, dressed himself for the part-left the tradesman at home-assumed the gay, lively, sporting character, and entered into the spirit of the scene with as much importance as if he had been a great landed proprietor. He boasted of being a good shot, and of the armies of birds he had bagged in his time; his description of a coursing match was dramatic, and his ecstasy in relating his enjoyment on witnessing the hounds in full cry was almost without bounds. He was a tradesman of the "old school" in his shop; his cut was generally considered tasteful, and he was successful at pleasing his customers. During the time his hands were employed in measuring the bust of a nobleman, or the back of a tradesman, his tongue kept pace with his movements. He retailed a good stock of anecdotes of living persons, put forwards with the usual preface, "it is said," "" they do say," "I have heard," "but the story did not originate with me," &c. He was not wanting in that confidence in his own acquirements, vulgarly called bronze; he ingratiated himself with most of his customers by that quality, and he obtained the appellation generally of an eccentric fellow. He used to insist upon it that if a coat were made to fit a man, according to the shape which nature had given him, he never despaired of giving satisfaction to the wearer; but if a coxcomb, whose limbs did not seem to belong to the same body, but looked as if they were picked up in a field of battle, wanted to be fitted with a fashionable coat, then arose the difficulty of his profession-his noblest intellectual exertion, to please his people who never could be pleased. The difficulty rested in the persons of such, but he never could convince them of it; and those sort of creatures whom he designated dandies, were mostly ill-formed fellows, padded into shape. We recommend the ladies to mind this hint. : For the first time of his life, though he had reached sixty years' experience in London, he found out that the metropolis was unhealthy but, luckily for Mr. Howell, he had "measured" his way so well through life, and played his cards with so much success, that he could retire to enjoy the "otium cum dignitate" attached to a property in the island of Thanet, where, among the vulgar, he soon acquired the appellation of "the old London buck." To the title he had not the slightest objection, except that he quarrelled with the word "old!" Sixty-one years had rolled over his brow, yet he was what might be termed a green old man. He never used the words of Goldfinch, "D-n trade !" lest he might be thought ungrateful to the source which gave him his fortune; but to the latter part of the exclamation, "I am for life and a curricle!" he clung with delight. And why not? He was an Englishman, a native of the country where he won his gold he felt the words of the poet, and showed he felt them: Honor and shame from no condition rise: Act well your part-there all the honor lies! Independence was his boast, though won by his thimble. Honest Howell! Most highminded of tailors! thou wert greater than the autocrat of Russia-happier than a king! Thou wert thine own master, and an independent country gentleman, acquired without the pride of birth or the insolence of office, by honest industry.— Howell determined to live all the days of his life at Margate It is a pleasant place, that Margate, still, I like that kind of freedom, I must say, Where each may please himself, nor fear the whispers Of some half score of puppies, hardly his peers. Besides, I like the customs of the town: I like the cars, well sheltered from the aspersions And well remember their white curtain too, Or in the fields, perchance, in some green spot; I like the neighbourhood too,-the ancient places Of seventeen hundred years, at least, that lie Mouldering beneath your tread !-for such the case is With man and man's achievements-they must die ! There's Richborough, Stonar, Monkton, Minster here, I like to spend a night at the Queen's Arms; To hear delightful song, and join the throng I like to meet with old friends from London gaily, Upon old ocean, with the delightful breezes I like the bustle, and to meet the busy throng, With chit-chat and smiles with the "dear creatures." Then the Promenade-the music-enchanting deck, Of Mr. Howell it might now be said that if bodily activity and jollity of disposition, had any tendency towards keeping "the fleshly tenement" in repair, no man ever exerted himself more than the "old buck" to realise the above character. It was his custom, during winter and summer, to rise every morning at four o'clock; and his early habits in life having taught him to wait upon himself, he made his own fire, prepared his coffee, and afterwards saddled his horse. He then occupied his time until nine in riding through the villages in the isle of Thanet; and frequently before breakfast he reached Canterbury, and back again to Margate, a distance of thirtyfour miles. He would then take what he termed his "second breakfast," and make a most hearty one. Immediately afterwards he changed his dress, saddled another of his horses, and rode again over the country for four hours. On his return home he dressed himself for dinner. This meal, like the great Napoleon, he quickly despatched; and afterwards, by way of attention to his two daughters, he generally took either one or the other of them out with him, in his chaise, until the dusk of the evening. He thus tired two horses daily, and frequently took an extra excursion with a favorite donkey in the evening, as a make-weight to his day's exercise! He had a fine horse called Blucher, that he had taught to follow him every where like a dog, and it was as completely under his command as the best trained animal in Ducrow's wonderful stud. Howell's day's work was almost as diversified as Caleb Quotem's. He was never idle, and the reproach of " a stupid, sleepy fellow" never attached to his character. For several years he was perpetual chairman of an evening club at the Queen's Arms Tavern, Margate, the great resort of the cockney visitors during the season. The president's chair he furnished at his own expense; the candlestick which stood before him, and his own tobaccopipes, were purchased by him. There he sat -alas! poor Yorick !-the liveliest companion at all times. He sang his song, enjoyed his glass, cracked his joke, and was a capital finger-post to a landlord who wanted the glass to be pushed about, and his company kept together. The following was the "Old Sporting Swell's favorite chant : FAL DE RAL TIT. (G. Colman, sen.) Oh! the like was never seen. As I was walking down Thames street, With a can of grog gillio. A can of grog they brought us straight, Then I sung fal de ral tit, &c. The Maccaronies then came in, 6 The landlord then aloud did say, As how he'd take the law. Then sung fal de ral tit, &c. And when I've crossed the raging main, With a pretty girl to sit by my side, And I'll sing fal de ral tit, &c. The Queen's Arms Tavern has been a 'crack house' of an evening for blowing a cloudwhiffing a cigar-taking a glass of ale-or a tumbler of grog, for upwards of the last twenty-five years, by the visitors at Margate, under its venerable and respected host, Mr. Hayes; and it still remains under the same firm, but conducted, with equal spirit and attention to business, by Mr. Goodwin, son-inlaw to the worthy landlord. It is in the above coffee-room, and at this club, which is termed "Free and Easy," where the frequenters of the above gay watering-place assemble to meet each other in the evening from town, to hear a good song, to make themselves happy, and to improve their health.* Most of the Lions' from the Metropolis, or persons well known on the pavé, look in' at the Queen's Arms Tavern to 'unbend,' and to give pride a holiday for the time being; likewise to exhibit 'a taste of their quality' and to show that the right end of life is to be jolly!' In truth, the above room might be termed, "A PICTURE OF REAL LIFE AT MARGATE!" Every body is welcome, first come, first served-there is no distinction of persons, it is all hail fellow, well met;' and the only acknowledged great man amongst them is the chairman, whose hammer is omnipotent. The songs, although of various descriptions, are in general excellent; and mirth and harmony are the leading features of the assembly. A concert-room cannot afford any thing like such a treat; nor half so much spirit and humour: the variety is so great, and every person being anxious to do his best, or to excel, in order to amuse the company. The lovers of sentiment come in for their share of delight-" For the love of Alice Gray.' The admirers of comic singing are equally well pleased with "Okey Pokey, King of the Sandwich Islands;" and the captains of the various steamers, and other ves *To be jolly; to leave business behind them for a few days; to enjoy the saline breezes on the Pier and Jetty; and to be pleased with the delightful walks which the Isle of Thanet offers to the pedestrians, perhaps might be the right sort of character of the thing but for the improvement of their health is another matter. Most of the gay fellows' all benefit their constitutions in the morning by bathing and sharp exercise; but the potent glass in the evening, and late hours, bring it much upon a par with the routine nights in the Metropolis. Be it so-but then what odds does it make to the writer of this article-as the man in the play observes-" that is their business, and not mine.' sels, who 'drop in' occasionally some time during the evening, are highly amused with The wind that blows, And the ship that goes, And the lass that loves a sailor Here the bon vivant, next in turn, whose very sonl exists in the charms of the bottle, sings forth its praises : Would you be for ever gay, If you'd raise and charm the soul, We have heard, in the above coffee-room, old Squire Hoare (enjoying a fine green old age), but as young as a boy in life's gay scene, entertain the visitors with a spirited touch of the olden times-giving light and shade to the picture: 'Twas on Easter-Monday, spring-time of the year, When rolling Tom, the drover, to Smithfield did repair, His togs were tight and clever, his dogs were staunch and free, With a blue bird's eye about his squeeze, and his garters below his knee. Ri fol di lid dol. It was also at the Queen's Arms Tavern (until the last season) that the late gay, delightful companion, Bill Desborough, used every evening to entertain the company with Dibdin's sea-songs. Desborough many years since was compli mented, by the above celebrated naval song writer, for the peculiarity of his expression, and the fine feelings which Bill displayed in all the songs of that Author; indeed, to particularize any song might be considered out of place he sung them all so well as to be repeatedly encored; but, if there was one song more than another entitled to a repetition,it was universally allowed that the late worthy Bill Desborough had no equal in the following: OLD CUNWELL, THE PILOT; OR, THE LOOK OUT. (C. Dibdin.) Old Cunwell, the pilot, for many a year, And knew of each sand-bank and shoal to steer clear, From a kind of poop lantern, plac'd over the Thames, names, They'd spy, as they guzzled their grog. And see, where the river in branches divides, There's the home-ward bound fleets from the Downs only see, So storted their top-gallant masts bend; There's the Silkworm, the Beaver, the Ant, and the Bee, And all standing on for Gravesend. There's the Fortitude yonder, at danger that mocks, The bold Resolution, that steers clear of rocks, And the trade of all nations, West, North, East, and Like the needle, points right to Gravesend. It is here, too, that Jem Gibbons, once the delightful singer of "Sweet Woodland Maid," at the Theatre Royal Drury-Lane; and who often 'pops in' of an evening to take his glass and keep the game alive.' Jem has been rusticating, as it were, for several seasons past at Margate; and who still continues, regardless of time,' to warble forth his notes with undiminished vigour and sweetness: he is the same Jem Gibbons still, good-natured to the echo, and never requires to be asked twice for a song, if it is in his power to oblige the company. In truth, Jem is one of the most pleasant and amusing features in Margate. To enumerate half his attractive songs would be out of character; but we cannot pass over a song of BURNS, in which he is allowed to excel, by all his brethren in the musical profession, either in town or country : OH WHISTLE AND I'LL COME TO THEE MY LAD. Oh, whistle, &c. * A well-known auctioneer at Margate; a gentleman of considerable information and talent; a lively companion and a capital Ventriloquist. Upon most occasions he is very capable of Shew-ing cause" for any business that he may undertake to accomplish. Through the means of Little Tommy,' he has an opportunity of satirizing the follies of several of his acquaintances; but then it is done with so much good humour, that it is next to an impossibility that any offence can be taken at the remarks thus jocularly offered. |