CHAPTER IX.
FLEET STREET (TRIBUTARIES—CRANE COURT, JOHNSON'S COURT, BOLT COURT).
Removal of the Royal Society from Gresham College—Opposition to Newton—Objections to Removal—The First Catalogue—Swift's jeer at the
Society—Franklin's Lightning Conductor and King George III.—Sir Hans Sloane insulted—The Scottish Society—Wilkes's Printer—The Delphin Classics—Johnson's Court—Johnson's Opinion on Pope and Dryden—His Removal to Bolt Court—The John Bull—Hook
and Terry—Prosecutions for Libel—Hook's Impudence.
In the old times, when newspapers could not
legally be published without a stamp, "various ingenious devices," says a writer in the Bookseller
(1867), "were employed to deceive and mislead the
officers employed by the Government. Many of
the unstamped papers were printed in Crane Court,
Fleet Street; and there, on their several days of
publication, the officers of the Somerset House solicitor would watch, ready to seize them immediately
they came from the press. But the printers were
quite equal to the emergency. They would make up
sham parcels of waste-paper, and send them out
with an ostentatious show of secrecy. The officers—simple fellows enough, though they were called
'Government spies,' 'Somerset House myrmidons,'
and other opprobrious names, in the unstamped
papers—duly took possession of the parcels, after a
decent show of resistance by their bearers, while
the real newspapers intended for sale to the public
were sent flying by thousands down a shoot in
Fleur-de-Lys Court, and thence distributed in the
course of the next hour or two all over the
town."
The Royal Society came to Crane Court from
Gresham College in 1710, and removed in 1782 to
Somerset House. This society, according to Dr.
Wallis, one of the earliest members, originated in
London in 1645, when Dr. Wilkins and certain
philosophical friends met weekly to discuss scientific
questions. They afterwards met at Oxford, and in
Gresham College, till that place was turned into a
Puritan barracks. After the Restoration, in 1662,
the king, wishing to turn men's minds to philosophy—or, indeed, anywhere away from politics—incorporated the members in what Boyle has called
"the Invisible College," and gave it the name of
the Royal Society. In 1710, the Mercers' Company growing tired of their visitors, the society
moved to a house rebuilt by Wren in 1670, and purchased by the society for £1,450. It had been the
residence, before the Great Fire, of Dr. Nicholas
Barebone (son of Praise-God Barebone), a great
building speculator, who had much property in the
Strand, and who was the first promoter of the
Phoenix Fire Office. It seems to have been
thought at the time that Newton was somewhat
despotic in his announcement of the removal, and
the members in council grumbled at the new house,
and complained of it as small, inconvenient, and
dilapidated. Nevertheless, Sir Isaac, unaccustomed to opposition, overruled all these objections,
and the society flourished in this Fleet Street
"close" seventy-two years. Before the society
came to Crane Court, Pepys and Wren had been
presidents; while at Crane Court the presidents
were—Newton (1703–1727), Sir Thomas Hoare,
Matthew Folkes, Esq. (whose portrait Hogarth
painted), the Earl of Macclesfield, the Earl of
Morton, James Burrow, Esq., James West, Esq.,
Sir John Pringle, and Sir Joseph Banks. The
earliest records of this useful society are filled with
accounts of experiments on the Baconian inductive principle, many of which now appear to us
puerile, but which were valuable in the childhood of
science. Among the labours of the society while in
Fleet Street, we may enumerate its efforts to promote
inoculation, 1714–1722; electrical experiments on
fourteen miles of wires near Shooter's Hill, 1745;
ventilation, apropos of gaol fever, 1750; discussions on Cavendish's improved thermometers, 1757;
a medal to Dollond for experiments on the laws of
light, 1758; observations on the transit of Venus,
in 1761; superintendence of the Observatory at
Greenwich, 1765; observations of the transit of
Venus in the Pacific, 1769 (Lieutenant Cook commenced the expedition); the promotion of an
Arctic expedition, 1773; the Racehorse meteorological observations, 1773; experiments on lightning conductors by Franklin, Cavendish, &c., 1772.
The removal of the society was, as we have said,
at first strongly objected to, and in a pamphlet
published at the time, the new purchase is thus
described: "The approach to it, I confess, is very
fair and handsome, through a long court; but, then,
they have no other property in this than in the
street before it, and in a heavy rain a man may
hardly escape being thoroughly wet before he can
pass through it. The front of the house towards
the garden is nearly half as long again as that
towards Crane Court. Upon the ground floor there
is a little hall, and a direct passage from the stairs
into the garden, and on each side of it a little
room. The stairs are easy, which carry you up to
the next floor. Here there is a room fronting the
court, directly over the hall; and towards the garden
is the meeting-room, and at the end another, also
fronting the garden. There are three rooms upon
the next floor. These are all that are as yet provided for the reception of the society, except you
will have the garrets, a platform of lead over them,
and the usual cellars, &c., below, of which they
have more and better at Gresham College."
When the society got settled, by Newton's order
the porter was clothed in a suitable gown and provided with a staff surmounted by the arms of the
society in silver, and on the meeting nights a lamp
was hung out over the entrance to the court from
Fleet Street. The repository was built at the rear
of the house, and thither the society's museum
was removed. The first catalogue, compiled by
Dr. Green, contains the following, among many
other marvellous notices:—
"The quills of a porcupine, which on certain
occasions the creature can shoot at the pursuing
enemy and erect at pleasure.
"The flying squirrel, which for a good nut-tree
will pass a river on the bark of a tree, erecting
his tail for a sail.
"The leg-bone of an elephant, brought out of
Syria for the thigh-bone of a giant. In winter,
when it begins to rain, elephants are mad, and so
continue from April to September, chained to some
tree, and then become tame again.
"Tortoises, when turned on their backs, will
sometimes fetch deep sighs and shed abundance
of tears.
"A humming-bird and nest, said to weigh but
twelve grains; his feathers are set in gold, and
sell at a great rate.
"A bone, said to be taken out of a mermaid's
head.
"The largest whale—liker an island than an
animal.
"The white shark, which sometimes swallows
men whole.
"A siphalter, said with its sucker to fasten on a
ship and stop it under sail.
"A stag-beetle, whose horns, worn in a ring, are
good against the cramp.
"A mountain cabbage—one reported 300 feet
high."
The author of "Hudibras," who died in 1680,
attacked the Royal Society for experiments that
seemed to him futile and frivolous, in a severe
and bitter poem, entitled, "The Elephant in the
Moon," the elephant proving to be a mouse
inside a philosopher's telescope. The poem
expresses the current opinion of the society,
on which King Charles II. is once said to have
played a joke.
In 1726–27 Swift, too, had his bitter jeer at the
society. In Laputa, he thus describes the experimental philosophers:—
"The first man I saw," he says, "was of a meagre
aspect, with sooty hands and face, his hair and
beard long, ragged, and singed in several places.
His clothes, shirt, and skin, were all of the same
colour. He had been eight years upon a project
for extracting sunbeams out of cucumbers, which
were to be put in phials hermetically sealed, and
let out to warm the air in raw, inclement summers.
He told me he did not doubt that, in eight
years more, he should be able to supply the
governor's gardens with sunshine at a reasonable
rate; but he complained that his stock was low,
and entreated me 'to give him something as an
encouragement to ingenuity, especially since this
had been a very dear season for cucumbers.' I
made him a small present, for my lord had furnished me with money on purpose, because he
knew their practice of begging from all who go to
see them. I saw another at work to calcine ice into
gunpowder, who likewise showed me a treatise he
had written concerning the 'Malleability of Fire,'
which he intended to publish.
"There was a most ingenious architect, who had
contrived a new method of building houses, by
beginning at the roof and working downward to
the foundation; which he justified to me by the
like practice of those two prudent insects, the bee
and the spider. I went into another room,
where the walls and ceiling's were all hung round
with cobwebs, except a narrow passage for the
architect to go in and out. At my entrance, he
called aloud to me 'not to disturb his webs.'
He lamented 'the fatal mistake the world had
been so long in, of using silk-worms, while we had
such plenty of domestic insects who infinitely
excelled the former, because they understood how
to weave as well as spin.' And he proposed,
farther, 'that, by employing spiders, the charge
of dying silks would be wholly saved;' whereof
I was fully convinced when he showed me a vast
number of flies, most beautifully coloured, wherewith he fed his spiders, assuring us, 'that the webs
would take a tincture from them;' and, as he had
them of all hues, he hoped to fit everybody's
fancy, as soon as he could find proper food for the
flies, of certain gums, oils, and other glutinous
matter, to give a strength and consistence to the
threads."
Mr. Grosley, who, in 1770, at Lausanne, published
a book on London, has drawn a curious picture
of the society at that date. "The Royal Society,"
he says, "combines within itself the purposes of
the Parisian Academy of Sciences and that of
Inscriptions; it cultivates, in fact, not only the
higher branches of science, but literature also.
Every one, whatever his position, and whether
English or foreign, who has made observations
which appear to the society worthy of its attention,
is allowed to submit them to it either by word of
mouth or in writing. I once saw a joiner, in his
working clothes, announce to the society a means
he had discovered of explaining the causes of tides.
He spoke a long time, evidently not knowing
what he was talking about; but he was listened
to with the greatest attention, thanked for his
confidence in the value of the society's opinion,
requested to put his ideas into writing, and conducted to the door by one of the principal
members.
"The place in which the society holds its
meetings is neither large nor handsome. It is a
long, low, narrow room, only furnished with a
table (covered with green cloth), some morocco
chairs, and some wooden benches, which rise
above each other along the room. The table,
placed in front of the fire-place at the bottom of
the room, is occupied by the president (who sits
with his back to the fire) and the secretaries.
On this table is placed a large silver-gilt mace,
similar to the one in use in the House of Commons,
and which, as is the case with the latter, is laid at
the foot of the table when the society is in committee. The president is preceded on his entrance
and departure by the beadle of the society, bearing
this mace. He has beside him, on his table, a
little wooden mallet for the purpose of imposing
silence when occasion arises, but this is very
seldom the case. With the exception of the
secretaries and the president, everyone takes his
place hap-hazard, at the same time taking great
pains to avoid causing any confusion or noise. The
society may be said to consist, as a body corporate,
of a committee of about twenty persons, chosen
from those of its associates who have the fuller
opportunities of devoting themselves to their
favourite studies. The president and the secretaries are ex-officio members of the committee,
which is renewed every year—an arrangement
which is so much the more necessary that, in 1765,
the society numbered 400 British members, of
whom more than forty were peers of the realm, five
of the latter being most assiduous members of the
committee.
"The foreign honorary members, who number
about 150, comprise within their number all the
most famous learned men of Europe, and amongst
them we find the names of D'Alembert, Bernouilli,
Bonnet, Buffon, Euler, Jussieu, Linné, Voltaire,
&c.; together with those, in simple alphabetical
order, of the Dukes of Braganza, &c., and the
chief Ministers of many European sovereigns."
During the dispute about lightning conductors
(after St. Bride's Church was struck in 1764), in
the year 1772, George III. (says Mr. Weld, in
his "History of the Royal Society") is stated to
have taken the side of Wilson—not on scientific
grounds, but from political motives; he even had
blunt conductors fixed on his palace, and actually
endeavoured to make the Royal Society rescind
their resolution in favour of pointed conductors.
The king, it is declared, had an interview with
Sir John Pringle, during which his Majesty earnestly entreated him to use his influence in supporting Mr. Wilson. The reply of the president
was highly honourable to himself and the society
whom he represented. It was to the effect that
duty as well as inclination would always induce
him to execute his Majesty's wishes to the utmost
of his power; "But, sire," said he, "I cannot
reverse the laws and operations of Nature." It
is stated that when Sir John regretted his inability
to alter the laws of Nature, the king replied,
"Perhaps, Sir John, you had better resign." It
was shortly after this occurrence that a friend of
Dr. Franklin's wrote this epigram:—
"While you, great George, for knowledge hunt,
And sharp conductors change for blunt,
The nation's out of joint;
Franklin a wiser course pursues,
And all your thunder useless views,
By keeping to the point."
A strange scene in the Royal Society in 1710
(Queen Anne) deserves record. It ended in the
expulsion from the council of that irascible Dr.
Woodward who once fought a duel with Dr. Mead
inside the gate of Gresham College. "The sense,"
says Mr. Ward, in his "Memoirs," "entertained
by the society of Sir Hans Sloane's services and
virtues was evinced by the manner in which they
resented an insult offered him by Dr. Woodward,
who, as the reader is aware, was expelled the
council. Sir Hans was reading a paper of his own
composition, when Woodward made some grossly
insulting remarks. Dr. Sloane complained, and
moreover stated that Dr. Woodward had often
affronted him by making grimaces at him; upon
which Dr. Arbuthnot rose and begged to be 'informed what distortion of a man's face constituted
a grimace.' Sir Isaac Newton was in the chair
when the question of expulsion was agitated, and
when it was pleaded in Woodward's favour that
'he was a good natural philosopher,' Sir Isaac
remarked that in order to belong to that society a
man ought to be a good moral philosopher as well
as a natural one."
The Scottish Society held its meetings in Crane
Court. "Elizabeth," says Mr. Timbs, "kept down
the number of Scotsmen in London to the astonishingly small one of fifty-eight; but with James I.
came such a host of traders and craftsmen, many of
whom failing to obtain employment, gave rise, as
early as 1613, to the institution of the 'Scottish
Box,' a sort of friendly society's treasury, when
there were no banks to take charge of money. In
1638 the company, then only twenty, met in
Lamb's Conduit Street. In this year upwards of
300 poor Scotsmen, swept off by the great plague
of 1665–66, were buried at the expense of the
'box,' while numbers more were nourished during
their sickness, without subjecting the parishes in
which they resided to the smallest expense.
"In the year 1665 the 'box' was exalted into the
character of a corporation by a royal charter, the
expenses attendant on which were disbursed by
gentlemen who, when they met at the 'Cross Keys,'
in Covent Garden, found their receipts to be
£116 8s. 5d. The character of the times is seen
in one of their regulations, which imposed a fine
of 2s. 6d. for every oath used in the course of
their quarterly business.
"Presents now flocked in. One of the corporation gave a silver cup; another, an ivory mallet
or hammer for the chairman; and among the contributors we find Gilbert Burnet, afterwards bishop,
giving £1 half-yearly. In no very Scotsman-like
spirit the governors distributed each quarter-day
all that had been collected during the preceding
interval. But in 1775 a permanent fund was
established. The hospital now distributes about
£2,200 a year, chiefly in £10 pensions to old
people; and the princely bequest of £76,495 by
Mr. W. Kinloch, who had realised a fortune in
India, allows of £1,800 being given in pensions
of £4 to disabled soldiers and sailors.
"All this is highly honourable to those connected,
by birth or otherwise, with Scotland. The monthly
meetings of the society are preceded by divine
service in the chapel, which is in the rear of the
house in Crane Court. Twice a year is held a
festival, at which large sums are collected. On
St. Andrew's Day, 1863, Viscount Palmerston presided, with the brilliant result of the addition of
£1,200 to the hospital fund."
Appended to the account of the society already
quoted we find the following remarkable "note by
an Englishman":—
"It is not one of the least curious particulars in
the history of the Scottish Hospital that it substantiates by documentary evidence the fact that
Scotsmen who have gone to England occasionally
find their way back to their own country. It
appears from the books of the corporation that
in the year ending 30th November, 1850, the
sum of £30 16s. 6d. was spent in passages from
London to Leith; and there is actually a corresponding society in Edinburgh to receive the
revenants and pass them on to their respective
districts."
In Crane Court, says Mr. Timbs, lived Dryden
Leach, the printer, who, in 1763, was arrested on
a general warrant upon suspicion of having printed
Wilkes's North Briton, No 45. Leach was taken
out of his bed in the night, his papers were seized,
and even his journeymen and servants were apprehended, the only foundation for the arrest being a
hearsay that Wilkes had been seen going into
Leach's house. Wilkes had been sent to the Tower
for the No. 45. After much litigation, he obtained a
verdict of £4,000, and Leach £300, damages from
three of the king's messengers, who had executed
the illegal warrant. Kearsley, the bookseller, of
Fleet Street (whom we recollect by his tax-tables),
had been taken up for publishing No. 45, when also
at Kearsley's were seized the letters of Wilkes,
which seemed to fix upon him the writing of the
obscene and blasphemous "Essay on Woman," and
of which he was convicted in the Court of King's
Bench and expelled the House of Commons. The
author of this "indecent patchwork" was not
Wilkes (says Walpole), but Thomas Potter, the
wild son of the learned Archbishop of Canterbury,
who had tried to fix the authorship on the learned
and arrogant Warburton—a piece of matchless
impudence worthy of Wilkes himself.

THE ROYAL SOCIETY'S HOUSE IN CRANE COURT (see page 104).
Red Lion Court (No. 169), though an unlikely
spot, has been, of all the side binns of Fleet Street,
one of the most specially favoured by Minerva.
Here Valpy published that interminable series of
Latin and Greek authors, which he called the
"Delphin Classics," which Lamb's eccentric friend,
George Dyer, of Clifford's Inn, laboriously edited,
and which opened the eyes of the subscribers very
wide indeed as to the singular richness of ancient
literature. At the press of an eminent printer in
this court, that useful and perennial serial the
Gentleman's Magazine (started in 1731) was partly
printed from 1779 to 1781, and entirely printed
from 1792 to 1820.
Johnson's Court, Fleet Street (a narrow court on
the north side of Fleet Street, the fourth from
Fetter Lane, eastward), was not named from Dr.
Johnson, although inhabited by him.
Dr. Johnson was living at Johnson's Court in
1765, after he left No. 1, Inner Temple Lane, and
before he removed to Bolt Court. At Johnson's
Court he made the acquaintance of Murphey, and
he worked at his edition of "Shakespeare." He saw
much of Reynolds and Burke. On the accession
of George III. a pension of £300 a year had
been bestowed on him, and from that time he
became comparatively an affluent man. In 1763,
Boswell had become acquainted with Dr. Johnson,
and from that period his wonderful conversations
are recorded. The indefatigable biographer describes, in 1763, being taken by Mr. Levett to see
Dr. Johnson's library, which was contained in his
garret over his Temple chambers, where the son of
the well-known Lintot used to have his warehouse.
The floor was strewn with manuscript leaves; and
there was an apparatus for chemical experiments, of
which Johnson was all his life very fond. Johnson
often hid himself in this garret for study, but never
told his servant, as the Doctor would never allow
him to say he was not at home when he was.

(see page 110).
"He" (Johnson), says Hawkins, "removed from
the Temple into a house in Johnson's Court,
Fleet Street, and invited thither his friend Mrs.
Williams. An upper room, which had the advantage of a good light and free air, he fitted up for
a study and furnished with books, chosen with so
little regard to editions or their external appearances
as showed they were intended for use, and that he
disdained the ostentation of learning."
"I returned to London," says Boswell, "in
February, 1766, and found Dr. Johnson in a good
house in Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, in which
he had accommodated Mrs. Williams with an
apartment on the ground-floor, while Mr. Levett
occupied his post in the garret. His faithful Francis
was still attending upon him. He received me
with much kindness. The fragments of our first
conversation, which I have preserved, are these :—I told him that Voltaire, in a conversation with
me, had distinguished Pope and Dryden, thus:
'Pope drives a handsome chariot, with a couple
of neat, trim nags; Dryden, a coach and six stately
horses.' Johnson: 'Why, sir, the truth is, they
both drive coaches and six, but Dryden's horses
are either galloping or stumbling; Pope's go at
a steady, even trot.' He said of Goldsmith's
'Traveller,' which had been published in my
absence, 'There's not been so fine a poem since
Pope's time.' Dr. Johnson at the same time
favoured me by marking the lines which he furnished to Goldsmith's 'Deserted Village,' which
are only the last four:—
'That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay,
As ocean sweeps the labour'd mole away;
While self-dependent power can time defy,
As rocks resist the billows and the sky.'
At night I supped with him at the 'Mitre' tavern,
that we might renew our social intimacy at the
original place of meeting. But there was now considerable difference in his way of living. Having
had an illness, in which he was advised to leave off
wine, he had, from that period, continued to abstain
from it, and drank only water or lemonade."
"Mr. Beauclerk and I," says Boswell, in another
place, "called on him in the morning. As we
walked up Johnson's Court. I said, 'I have a
veneration for this court,' and was glad to find
that Beauclerk had the same reverential enthusiasm." The Doctor's removal Boswell thus duly
chronicles:—"Having arrived," he says, "in
London late on Friday, the 15th of March, 1776,
I hastened next morning to wait on Dr. Johnson,
at his house, but found he was removed from
Johnson's Court, No. 7, to Bolt Court, No. 8,
still keeping to his favourite Fleet Street. My
reflection at the time, upon this change, as marked
in my journal, is as follows: 'I felt a foolish
regret that he had left a court which bore his
name; but it was not foolish to be affected with
some tenderness of regard for a place in which
I had seen him a great deal, from whence I had
often issued a better and a happier man than when
I went in; and which had often appeared to my
imagination, while I trod its pavement in the
solemn darkness of the night, to be sacred to
wisdom and piety.'"
Johnson was living at Johnson's Court when he
was introduced to George III., an interview in
which he conducted himself, considering he was
an ingrained Jacobite, with great dignity, selfrespect, and good sense.
That clever, but most shameless and scurrilous,
paper, John Bull, was started in Johnson's Court,
at the close of 1820. Its specific and real object
was to slander unfortunate Queen Caroline and to
torment, stigmatise, and blacken "the Brandenburg House party," as her honest sympathisers
were called. Theodore Hook was chosen editor,
because he knew society, was quick, witty, satirical,
and thoroughly unscrupulous. For his "splendid
abuse"—as his biographer, the unreverend Mr.
Barham, calls it—he received the full pay of a
greedy hireling. Tom Moore and the Whigs
now met with a terrible adversary. Hook did not
hew or stab, like Churchill and the old rough
lampooners of earlier days, but he filled crackers
with wild fire, or laughingly stuck the enemies
of George IV. over with pins. Hook had only
a year before returned from the Treasuryship
of the Mauritius, charged with a defalcation of
£15,000—the result of the grossest and most
culpable neglect. Hungry for money, as he
had ever been, he was eager to show his zeal
for the master who had hired his pen. Hook
and Daniel Terry, the comedian, joined to start
the new satirical paper; but Miller, a publisher in
the Burlington Arcade, was naturally afraid of
libel, and refused to have anything to do with the
new venture. With Miller, as Hook said in his
clever, punning way, all argument in favour of it
proved Newgate-ory. Hook at first wanted to
start a magazine upon the model of Blackwood,
but the final decision was for a weekly newspaper,
to be called John Bull, a title already discussed for
a previous scheme by Hook and Elliston. The
first number appeared on Saturday, December 16,
1820, in the publishing office, No. 11, Johnson's
Court. The modest projectors only printed seven
hundred and fifty copies of the first number, but the
sale proved considerable. By the sixth week the
sale had reached ten thousand weekly. The first
five numbers were reprinted, and the first two
actually stereotyped.
Hook's favourite axiom—worthy of such a
satirist—was "that there was always a concealed
wound in every family, and the point was to strike
exactly at the source of pain." Hook's clerical
elder brother, Dr. James Hook, the author of
"Pen Owen" and other novels, and afterwards
Dean of Worcester, assisted him; but Terry was
too busy in what Sir Walter Scott, his great friend
and sleeping partner, used to call "Terryfying the
novelists by not very brilliant adaptations of their
works." Dr. Maginn, summoned from Cork to
edit a newspaper for Hook (who had bought up
two dying newspapers for the small expenditure of
three hundred guineas), wrote only one article for
the Bull. Mr. Haynes Bayley contributed some of
his graceful verses, and Ingoldsby (Barham) some
of his rather ribald fun. The anonymous editor of
John Bull became for a time as much talked about
as Junius in earlier times. By many witty
James Smith was suspected, but his fun had not
malignity enough for the Tory purposes of those
bitter days. Latterly Hook let Alderman Wood
alone, and set all his staff on Hume, the great
economist, and the Hon. Henry Grey Bennett.
Several prosecutions followed, says Mr. Barham,
that for libel on the Queen among the rest; but the
grand attempt on the part of the Whigs to crush the
paper was not made till the 6th of May, 1821. A
short and insignificant paragraph, containing some
observations upon the Hon. Henry Grey Bennett,
a brother of Lord Tankerville's, was selected for
attack, as involving a breach of privilege; in consequence of which the printer, Mr. H. F. Cooper,
the editor, and Mr. Shackell were ordered to
attend at the bar of the House of Commons. A
long debate ensued, during which Ministers made
as fair a stand as the nature of the case would admit
in behalf of their guerrilla allies, but which terminated at length in the committal of Cooper to
Newgate, where he was detained from the 11th of
May till the 11th of July, when Parliament was
prorogued.
Meanwhile the most strenuous exertions were
made to detect the real delinquents—for, of course,
honourable gentlemen were not to be imposed
upon by the unfortunate "men of straw" who
had fallen into their clutches, and who, by the
way, suffered for an offence of which their judges
and accusers openly proclaimed them to be not
only innocent, but incapable. The terror of imprisonment and the various arts of cross-examination proving insufficient to elicit the truth, recourse
was had to a simpler and more conciliatory mode
of treatment—bribery. The storm had failed to
force off the editorial cloak—the golden beams
were brought to bear upon it. We have it for
certain that an offer was made to a member of
the establishment to stay all impending proceedings, and, further, to pay down a sum of £500
on the names of the actual writers being given
up. It was rejected with disdain, while such
were the precautions taken that it was impossible
to fix Hook, though suspicion began to be
awakened, with any share in the concern. In
order, also, to cross the scent already hit off,
and announced by sundry deep-mouthed pursuers,
the following "Reply"—framed upon the principle, we presume, that in literature, as in love,
everything is fair—was thrown out in an early
number:—
"MR.THEODORE HOOK.
"The conceit of some people is amazing, and it
has not been unfrequently remarked that conceit
is in abundance where talent is most scarce. Our
readers will see that we have received a letter from
Mr. Hook, disowning and disavowing all connection with this paper. Partly out of good nature,
and partly from an anxiety to show the gentleman
how little desirous we are to be associated with
him, we have made a declaration which will
doubtless be quite satisfactory to his morbid
sensibility and affected squeamishness. We are
free to confess that two things surprise us in this
business; the first, that anything which we have
thought worth giving to the public should have
been mistaken for Mr. Hook's; and, secondly
that such a person as Mr. Hook should think
himself disgraced by a connection with John
Bull."
For sheer impudence this, perhaps, may be
admitted to "defy competition"; but in point of
tact and delicacy of finish it falls infinitely short of
a subsequent notice, a perfect gem of its class,
added by way of clenching the denial:—
"We have received Mr. Theodore Hook's
second letter. We are ready to confess that we
may have appeared to treat him too unceremoniously, but we will put it to his own feelings
whether the terms of his denial were not, in some
degree, calculated to produce a little asperity on
our part. We shall never be ashamed, however, to
do justice, and we readily declare that we meant
no kind of imputation on Mr. Hook's personal
character."
The ruse answered for awhile, and the paper
went on with unabated audacity.
The death of the Queen, in the summer of 1821,
produced a decided alteration in the tone and
temper of the paper. In point of fact its occupation was now gone. The main, if not the sole,
object of its establishment had been brought about
by other and unforeseen events. The combination
it had laboured so energetically to thwart was now
dissolved by a higher and resistless agency. Still,
it is not to be supposed that a machine which
brought in a profit of something above £4,000
per annum, half of which fell to the share of Hook,
was to be lightly thrown up, simply because its
original purpose was attained. The dissolution of
the "League" did not exist then as a precedent.
The Queen was no longer to be feared; but there
were Whigs and Radicals enough to be held in
check, and, above all, there was a handsome
income to be realised.
"Latterly Hook's desultory nature made him
wander from the Bull, which might have furnished
the thoughtless and heartless man of pleasure with
an income for life. The paper naturally lost sap and
vigour, at once declined in sale, and sank into
a mere respectable club-house and party organ."
"Mr. Hook," says Barham, "received to the day
of his death a fixed salary, but the proprietorship
had long since passed into other hands."