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As soon as he came to Bridgewater, he went directly to the mayor’s house, and knocking at the gate, it was opened to him by madam mayoress, to whom he related his misfortune; and the good lady, pitying him as an unfortunate stranger, so far distant from his home, gave him half-a-crown, and engaged her daughter, a child, to give him a shilling.
If I don’t show myself much, I dare say I can manage to pass for his mother.’ The thought occurred to the mayor’s mind that the lady might show herself a good deal without fear of detection; seeing that she was about double the age of her intended husband. He said nothing, however, and the lady proceeded.
According to an old historian, it was a city surrounded with a stone wall having brazen gates; it had fifty-two churches, chapels, and religious houses; it also boasted hospitals, a huge palace, a bishop’s seat, a mayor’s mansion, and a Mint. Beyond it a forest appears to have extended some miles into what is now the sea. Fair Dunwich! Thou art lonely now, Renowned and sought no more.’
That such rings became in the end indicative of that class, and were retained in fashion for this reason when they had been long discarded from general use, may be safely inferred from the description of a character introduced in the Lord Mayor’s Show in the year 1664, who is said to be “habited like a grave citizen gold girdle and gloves hung thereon, rings on his fingers, and a seal ring on his thumb.” Such rings were evidently used according to the most ancient mode as personal signets, by such as were not entitled to bear arms; hence originated the quaint inventions known as “merchant’s marks,” which were impressed on merchandise, painted on shields instead of armorial bearings, inserted in memorial windows of stained glass, and worn on the thumb for constant use in sealing.
Nicholas Tulrumble being in the capital, it fell out that he was present at the Lord Mayor’s show and dinner, at sight of the glory and splendour whereof, he, Mr.
All public dinners in London, from the Lord Mayor’s annual banquet at Guildhall, to the Chimney-sweepers’ anniversary at White Conduit House; from the Goldsmiths’ to the Butchers’, from the Sheriffs’ to the Licensed Victuallers’; are amusing scenes. Of all entertainments of this description, however, we think the annual dinner of some public charity is the most amusing.
‘Lord—lordship?’ ejaculated Trott again, falling back a step or two, and gazing, in unutterable wonder, on the countenance of the mayor. ‘Ha-ha! I see, my lord—practising the madman?—very good indeed—very vacant look—capital, my lord, capital—good evening, Mr.—Trott—ha! ha! ha!’ ‘That mayor’s decidedly drunk,’ soliloquised Mr.
‘Over-driv the cab, and driv over a ’ooman,’ replied the top-boots, with brevity. ‘Do you know the mayor’s house?’ inquired Mr. Trott. ‘Rather,’ replied the boots, significantly, as if he had some good reason to remember it. ‘Do you think you could manage to leave a letter there?’ interrogated Trott. ‘Shouldn’t wonder,’ responded boots.
Carew’s wife hearing this, entreated him in the most tender manner not to venture into the town; but as his great heart always swelled when any thing hazardous presented, and as he was willing to show his subjects, by example, that nothing was too difficult for industry and ingenuity to overcome, he was resolved to enter Rye; which he did with a very slow, feeble, and tottering pace, stopping every minute by the most violent fits of coughing, whilst every limb shook with an universal palsy, his countenance appearing rather to be the property of some one among the dead than to belong to any living body: in this manner he crept along to the mayor’s house, and in a most lamentable moan begged some relief.
I was as happy as a city alderman at a Lord Mayor’s feast; I could not contain myself or believe I was in England; I could not sit quietly in my chair; I paced the room, jumped, rubbed my hands and head, and in one of my ecstatic fits I rang the bell. I scarcely know what I am about. I have eaten my oysters, and now I wish for my horse.” “He is not quite ready yet, sir.
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