Part 9

Mr. Rawlinson declared that what she had just related was quite novel to him. The urbane manner of the worthy magistrate won upon the old lady and made her quite communicative. She had followed her occupation eight years, and what with the "perquisites" (id est, articles found), and the savings from "hard labour," she had realized sufficient money to think about house-building, and had then a house erecting which she expected would cost her at least 300l. She had deposited 100l. in the hands of her employer, in part payment, and as a proof that all was not vaunting, she produced her box, in which were thirty-nine sovereigns, two five-pound bank-notes, and several guineas and half-sovereigns.

Early in the present century, the spot of ground on which now stands Argyle Street, Liverpool Street, Manchester Street, and the corner of Gray's Inn Road, was covered with a mountain of filth and cinders, the accumulation of many years, and which afforded food for hundreds of pigs. The Russians bought the whole of the ash-heap, and shipped it to Moscow, to be used in rebuilding that city after it had been burned by the French. The Battle-bridge dustmen had a certain celebrity in their day. The ground on which the dust-heap stood was sold in 1826 to the Pandemonium Company for fifteen thousand pounds; they walled in the whole, and built a theatre, which now remains at the corner of Liverpool Street. The Company's scheme was, however, abandoned, and the ground was let on building leases. The heap is mentioned in the burlesque song, Adam Bell, the Literary Dustman:

You recollect the cinder heap, Vot stood in Gray's Inn Lane, sirs?

Pinks's History of Clerkenwell, p. 501.

When the street now called the Caledonian Road was in the fields, there was at the Battle-bridge end of the road a large accumulation of horse-bones, which were stored there by some horse-slaughterers. And in 1833, Battle-bridge was described in the New Monthly Magazine as "the grand centre of dustmen, scavengers, horse and dog dealers, knackermen, brickmakers, and other low but necessary professionalists." The dust-heap is described as "that sublime, sifted wonder of cockneys, the cloud-kissing dust-heap which sold for twenty thousand pounds;" but this is doubtful.

Mr. T. C. Noble has communicated to Pinks's History of Clerkenwell the following particulars of the Dust and Cinder Heap, &c.—"The estate at Battle-bridge comprised from seventeen to twenty acres. Of this my grandfather took sixteen small dilapidated houses, and the dust and cinder heap, which, it was said, had been existing on the spot since the Great Fire of London. He gave about 500l. for the lot, although the parties wanted 800l. Bricks were then very scarce, so he very soon realized a good sum for the old buildings, while Russia, hearing in some way of this enormous dust-heap, purchased it for purposes in rebuilding Moscow. The site of the mountain of dust is now covered by the houses of Derby Street, and I may add, the names of the thoroughfares erected on this estate were derived from the popular ministers of that day. The rental derived from the property by my grandfather exceeded 1,000l. a year."

John Thomas Smith gives the following notes upon oddities of the above class:—"Within my time many men have indulged most ridiculously in their eccentricities. I have known one who had made a pretty large fortune in business get up at four o'clock in the morning and walk the streets to pick up horse-shoes which had been slipped in the course of the night, with no other motive than to see how many he could accumulate in the course of a year. I also remember a rich soap-boiler who never missed an opportunity of pocketing nails, pieces of iron hoops, and bits of leather in his daily walks; and these he would spread upon a large walnut-tree three-flapped dining-table, with a similar view to that of the horse-shoe collector. This wealthy citizen would often put on a red woollen cap and a waggoner's frock, in order to stoke his own furnace; after which he would dress, get into his coach, and, attended by tall servants in bright blue liveries, drive to his villa, where his hungry friends were waiting his arrival."

Sir John Dinely, Bart.

This eccentric baronet, of the family of the Dinelys, of Charlton, descended by the female line from the Royal House of Plantagenet, having dissipated the wreck of the family estates, obtained the pension and situation of a poor knight of Windsor. His chief occupation consisted in advertising for a wife, and nearly thirty years were passed in assignations to meet the fair respondents to his advertisements. His figure was truly grotesque: in wet weather he was mounted on a high pair of pattens; he wore the coat of the Windsor uniform, with a velvet embroidered waistcoat, satin breeches, silk stockings, and a full-bottomed wig. In this finery he might be seen strolling one day; and next out marketing, carrying a penny loaf, a morsel of butter, a quartern of sugar, and a farthing candle. Twice or thrice a year he came to London, and visited Vauxhall Gardens and the theatres. His fortune, if he could recover it, he estimated at 300,000l. He invited the widow as well as the blooming maiden of sixteen, and addressed them in printed documents, bearing his signature, in which he specified the sum the ladies must possess; he expected less property with youth than age or widowhood; adding that few ladies would be eligible that did not possess at least 10,000l. a year, which, however, was nothing compared to the honour his high birth and noble descent would confer; the incredulous he referred to Nash's Worcestershire. He addressed his advertisements to "the angelic fair" from his house in Windsor Castle (one of the poor knight's houses). He cherished to the last the expectation of forming a connubial connection with some lady of property, but, alas! he died a bachelor in 1808.

We know an instance of an old Baronet advertising twenty years for a wife; at last he succeeded in marrying an out-and-out Xantippe.

The Rothschilds.

In the Memoirs of Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, edited by his son, we find this amusing letter, dated 1834: "We yesterday dined at Ham House, to meet the Rothschilds; and very amusing it was. He (Rothschild) told us his life and adventures. He was the third son of the banker at Frankfort. 'There was not,' he said, 'room enough for us all in that city. I dealt in English goods. One great trader came there, who had the market to himself; he was quite the great man, and did us a favour if he sold us goods. Somehow I offended him, and he refused to show me his patterns. This was on a Tuesday; I said to my father, "I will go to England." I could speak nothing but German. On the Thursday I started. The nearer I got to England, the cheaper goods were. As soon as I got to Manchester, I laid out all my money, things were so cheap; and I made good profit. I soon found that there were three profits—the raw material, the dyeing, and the manufacturing. I said to the manufacturer, "I will supply you with material and dye, and you supply me with manufactured goods." So I got three profits instead of one, and I could sell goods cheaper than anybody. In a short time I made my 20,000l. into 60,000l. My success all turned on one maxim. I said, I can do what another man can, and so I am a match for the man with the patterns, and for all the rest of them! Another advantage I had. I was an off-hand man. I made a bargain at once. When I was settled in London, the East India Company had 800,000 ounces of gold to sell. I went to the sale, and bought it all. I knew the Duke of Wellington must have it. I had bought a great many of his bills at a discount. The Government sent for me, and said they must have it. When they had got it, they did not know how to get it to Portugal. I undertook all that, and I sent it through France; and that was the best business I ever did.'

"Another maxim, on which he seemed to place great reliance, was, never to have anything to do with an unlucky place or an unlucky man. 'I have seen,' said he, 'many clever men, very clever men, who had not shoes to their feet. I never act with them. Their advice sounds very well; but fate is against them; they cannot get on themselves; and if they cannot do good to themselves, how can they do good to me?' By aid of these maxims he has acquired three millions of money. 'I hope,' said —, 'that your children are not too fond of money and business, to the exclusion of more important things. I am sure you would not wish that.'—Rothschild: 'I am sure I should wish that. I wish them to give mind, and soul, and heart, and body, and everything to business; that is the way to be happy. It requires a great deal of boldness and a great deal of caution to make a great fortune; and when you have got it, it requires ten times as much wit to keep it. If I were to listen to all the projects proposed to me, I should ruin myself very soon. Stick to one business, young man,' said he to Edward; 'stick to your brewery, and you may be the great brewer of London. Be a brewer, and a banker, and a merchant, and a manufacturer, and you will soon be in the Gazette.

"'One of my neighbours is a very ill-tempered man; he tries to vex me, and has built a great place for swine close to my walk. So, when I go out, I hear, first grunt, grunt, squeak, squeak; but this does me no harm. I am always in good humour. Sometimes to amuse myself I give a beggar a guinea. He thinks it is a mistake, and for fear I should find it out, off he runs as hard as he can. I advise you to give a beggar a guinea sometimes, it is very amusing.' The daughters are very pleasing. The second son is a mighty hunter, and his father lets him buy any horses he likes. He lately applied to the Emperor of Morocco for a first-rate Arab horse. The Emperor sent him a magnificent one; but he died as he landed in England. The poor youth said very feelingly, 'that was the greatest misfortune he ever had suffered;' and I felt strong sympathy with him. I forgot to say, that soon after Mr. Rothschild came to England, Bonaparte invaded Germany. 'The Prince of Hesse Cassel,' said Rothschild, 'gave my father his money; there was no time to be lost; he sent it to me. I had 600,000l. arrive unexpectedly by the post; and I put it to such good use, that the Prince made me a present of all his wine and his linen.'"

A Legacy of Half a Million of Money.

On the 30th of August, 1852, there died at Chelsea John Camden Neild, a wealthy gentleman, who had bequeathed an immense legacy to Queen Victoria. His father was a native of Knutsford, in Cheshire; as a goldsmith in London he made a large fortune. He was a truly benevolent man, especially in his efforts for the improvement of prisons, and originated the Society for the Relief of Persons imprisoned for Small Debts. He married the daughter of John Camden, Esq., of Battersea, in Surrey, a direct descendant of the great antiquary of the same name. He died in 1814, and was buried at Chelsea.

John Camden Neild, the only surviving son of the above, was born in 1780; educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, studied at Lincoln's Inn, and in 1808 was called to the bar. In 1814 he succeeded to the whole of his father's property, estimated at 250,000l.; but he made a very different use of his wealth. Avarice was his ruling passion; he became a confirmed miser, and for the last thirty years of his life gave himself over to heaping up riches. He lived in a large but meanly furnished house in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea; and he slept on a bare board, and latterly on an old stump bedstead, on which he died. His favourite companion was a large black cat, which was in his chamber when he breathed his last.

He had considerable property at North Marston, in Buckinghamshire, and here he often stayed for days together, besides his half-yearly visits to receive rents. As lessee of the rectory, it was incumbent on him to repair the chancel of the church; the leaded roof having become full of fissures, he had them covered with strips of painted calico, saying they would "last his time." During this odd repair, he sat all day on the roof, to keep the workmen employed and even ate his dinner there, which consisted of hard-boiled eggs, dry bread, and buttermilk.

His dress was an old-fashioned swallow-tailed coat, brown trousers, short gaiters, and shoes which were generally patched and down at the heels. His stockings and linen were generally full of holes; but when he stayed a night at a tenant's, the mistress often mended them while he was in bed. He was short and punchy in figure, scarcely above five feet in height, with a large round and short neck. He always carried an old green cotton umbrella, but never wore a great coat, which he considered too extravagant for his slender means. He travelled outside a coach, where his fellow-travellers took him for a decayed gentleman in extreme poverty. Once, when visiting his Kentish property on a bitterly cold day, the coach stopped at Farningham, where the other passengers subscribed for a glass of brandy-and-water, which they sent to the poor gentleman, in pity for their thinly-clad companion who still sat on the coach-roof, while they were by the inn fireside.

He often took long journeys on foot, when he would avail himself of any proffered "lift," and he was even known to sit on a load of coal, to enable him to proceed a little further without expense; yet he would give the driver a penny or two for the accommodation; for, miser as he was, he never liked to receive anything without paying for it—however small the scale; nor would he partake of any meal or refreshment when asked by the clergymen of the parishes where his estates lay. Yet with tenants of a lower grade he would share the coarse meals and lodging of the family. At North Marston he used to reside with the tenant on the rectory farm; while staying here, about 1828, he attempted to cut his throat, but his life was saved chiefly by the prompt assistance of the tenant's wife. This attempt was supposed to have been caused by a sudden fall in the funds, in which he had just made a large investment.

Sometimes he would eat his dinner at a tenant's, where he would beg a basin of milk, and buy three eggs for a penny, get them hard-boiled, and eat two for his dinner, with another basin of milk; the third egg he would save for next morning's breakfast. He used to examine minutely the nature of his land, and keep an account of the number of trees on his estates: he had been known to walk from twelve to fifteen miles to count only a few trees.

Mr. Neild's general answer to all applications for charitable contributions was a refusal; in some instances it was otherwise. He once, but only once, gave a pound for the Sunday-school at North Marston; he promised 300l. towards building an infirmary for Buckinghamshire, but withheld it from an objection to the site.

Mr. Neild was not, as stated at the time of his death, "a frigid, spiritless specimen of humanity," for he possessed considerable knowledge in legal and general literature and the classics. Nor did he entirely pass over merit. Finding the son of one of his tenants to possess strong natural abilities, he paid wholly or in part the expenses of his school and college education. This person is now a distinguished scholar and a dignitary of the Church of England.

Mr. Neild was buried on the 16th of September, according to his own desire, in the chancel of North Marston Church. His will then necessarily came to light, and great was the sensation which it occasioned. After bequeathing a few trifling legacies to different persons, he left the whole of his vast property, estimated at 500,000l., to "Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, begging Her Majesty's most gracious acceptance of the same for her sole use and benefit, and her heirs, &c." To each of his three executors he bequeathed 100l. The will had excited such curiosity, that, though his life had passed almost unnoticed, a large concourse of persons assembled at Chelsea to witness the removal of his body, and the church and churchyard at North Marston were crowded with wondering—not lamenting—spectators. Among his tenants, workmen, and the poor of the parish where he possessed so much property, not a tear was shed, not a regret uttered, as his body was committed to its last resting-place. The only remark heard was, "Poor creature! had he known so much would have been spent on his funeral, he would have come down here to die to save the expense!"

Two caveats were entered against his will, but were subsequently withdrawn, and the Queen was left to take undisputed possession of his property. Her Majesty immediately increased Mr. Neild's bequest to his three executors to 1,000l. each; she provided for his old housekeeper, to whom he had made no bequest, though she had lived with him six-and-twenty years; and she secured an annuity to the woman who had frustrated Mr. Neild's attempt at suicide.

Her Majesty, in 1855, had restored the chancel of North Marston Church, and inserted an east window of beautifully stained glass, beneath which is a reredos with this inscription: "This Reredos and the Stained Glass Window were erected by Her Majesty Queen Victoria (D.G.B.R.F.D.), in the eighteenth year of her reign, in memory of John Camden Neild, Esq., of this parish, who died August 30th, 1852, aged 72."

Condensed from The Book of Days, vol. ii. pp. 285-288.

This man of wealth must not be confounded with the Mr. Neeld who came into possession of great wealth on the demise of his uncle, Philip Rundell, the wealthy goldsmith of Ludgate Hill. He died in 1827, at the age of eighty-one; and, according to the Gentleman's Magazine, "had never married, and never kept an establishment, but lived much with one niece at Brompton, and another, the wife of John Bannister, the eminent comedian." The eldest son of the latter, on coming of age, was invited to breakfast with Mr. Rundell, who placed in the young man's hands at parting a sealed letter, which he was not to open till he reached home. It was then found to contain a bequest of 10,000l., payable on the death of the donor, and of his own marriage. This incident was related to Mr. Britton by Mr. Bannister, who also indulged him by repeating two songs which he had written and sung at Mr. Rundell's, on two birthdays of the aged goldsmith. Bannister also inherited 5,000l. for his own life, and then to devolve to his daughter; and his son had an additional legacy from Mr. Rundell. Numerous other large sums of money were bequeathed to other relatives, friends, and public foundations; but the most important item in the will is the residuary clause, whereby the testator "gives to his esteemed friend, Joseph Neeld, the younger, all the rest of his real and mixed estate, which," says the magazine, "it is computed will amount to not less than 890,000l. The personal effects were sworn at upwards of 1,000,000l., the utmost limit to which the scale of the probate duty extends."

Eccentricities of the Earl of Bridgewater.

Forty years since there lived in Paris the Rev. Francis Henry Egerton, Earl of Bridgewater, of whom we find this probably overcharged but curious account in a Parisian journal of the year 1826; than his lordship no one has a higher claim to a distinguished place in the history of human oddities:—"Those who have once seen—nay, those who have never seen this meagre personage drag himself along, supported by two huge lacqueys, with his sugar-loaf hat, slouched down over his eyes, cannot fail to recognize him. An immense fortune enables him to gratify the most extravagant caprices that ever passed through the head of a rich Englishman. If he be lent a book, he carries his politeness so far as to send it back, or rather have it conveyed home, in a carriage. He gives orders that two of his most stately steeds be caparisoned under one of his chariots, and the volume, reclining at ease in milord's landau, arrives, attended by four footmen in costly livery, at the door of its astounded owner. His carriage is frequently to be seen filled with his dogs. He bestows great care on the feet of these dogs, and orders them boots, for which he pays as dearly as for his own. Lord Bridgewater's custom is an excellent one for the boot-maker; for, besides the four feet of each of his dogs, the supply of his own two feet must give constant employment to several operatives. He puts on a new pair of boots every day, carefully preserving those he has once worn, and ranging them in order; he commands that none shall touch them, but takes himself great pleasure in observing how much of the year has each day passed, by the state of his boots."