Tottenham.] THE "TOURNAMENT OF TOTTENHAM." flourish in spite of the vigorous denunciations of the authorities both of Church and State. Such being the case, the author of the "Tournament " has availed himself of the keen weapon of ridicule in order to show up the absurd custom in its true colours. With this view he here introduces with admirable humour a parcel of country clowns and bumpkins, imitating at the Croft in Tottenham all the solemnities of the tourney. Here we have the regular challenge, the appointed day, the lady for the prize, the formal preparations, the display of armour, the oaths taken on entering the lists, the various accidents of the encounter, the victor leading off the prize, and the magnificent feasting, with all the other solemn fopperies that usually attended the pompous "tournament.” The "Turnament of Tottenham," it may be added, though now rendered popular by its being placed by Bishop Percy in his "Reliques," was first printed from an ancient MS. in 1631, by the Rev. William Bedwell, Rector of Tottenham, who, as stated above, was one of the translators of the Bible, and who tells us that its author was Gilbert Pilkington, thought by some to have been also in his day parson of the parish, and the author of another piece called "Passio Domini." Bedwell, however, though a learned man, does not seem to have appreciated the wit of his predecessor, and really imagines that the verses are a description of a veritable tournament written before the time of Edward III., in whose reign tournaments were prohibited. A perusal of the "Turnament" itself will be sufficient to dispel this matter-of-fact view of the poem, which is, perhaps, the best piece of mock-heroic writing that has come down to us since the "Battle of the Bees," so admirably portrayed by Virgil in his fourth Georgic. We quote the following stanza, which describes the situation of the contending parties subsequent to the combat, and may serve as a specimen of the production : "To the rich feast came many for the nonce; Some came hop-halte, and some tripping on the stones; 563 statesman, Sir Julius Cæsar, who was some time Master of the Rolls, and as we have already had occasion to observe, lived to such a great age, that he was said to be "kept alive, beyond Nature's course, by the prayers of the many poor whom he daily relieved." He was in attendance on his friend Lord Bacon at the time of his last illness, and was present with him when he died.* In 1598 Sir Julius resided at Mitcham, in Surrey, where he was visited by Queen Elizabeth. He lived near the High Cross, and died in 1636. Here, in 1842, died William Hone, the author of very many popular works, and among others of the "Every-day Book." "I am going out to Tottenham this morning," writes Charles Dickens, "on a cheerless mission I would willingly have avoided. Hone is dying, and he sent Cruickshank yesterday to beg me to go and see him, as, having read no books but mine of late, he wanted to see me, and shake hands with me 'before he went."" The request so asked, Charles Dickens performed with his usual tender-heartedness. In a month afterwards he paid a second visit to Tottenham. It was to attend Hone's funeral. In concluding this chapter, we may be pardoned for referring to the sanitary condition of Tottenham. In 1837, when the Registrar-General's Department was first established, the village was a decidedly healthy place, and its healthiness was further improved by the establishment, about twenty years later, of an excellent system of drainage and watersupply, which reduced for some years the deathrate from fever by nearly one-half. About the year 1860 the population of Tottenham began to increase very rapidly, and owing mainly to the supineness of the leading inhabitants, the Local Board of Health neglected to extend the area of the drainage and water-supply, and likewise supplemented its water-supply from wells in the chalk by land-spring water drawn from highly-manured land. The Board also became remiss in dealing with nuisances. The result was that the death-rate rose rapidly, and by 1870 it was 20 per cent. higher than formerly, while the death-rate from Of some were the heads broken, of some the shoulder-bones; the seven principal zymotic diseases had nearly With sorrow came they hither. Wo was Hawkin; wo was Harry; Wo was Tymkin; wo was Tirry; It may be added that the poem, in its entirety, is Before quitting Tottenham, we may state that here was born, in 1557, the learned civilian and doubled. Typhoid fever became prevalent, and in 1873 was epidemic. The leading inhabitants becoming alarmed, formed themselves into a sanitary association, elected efficient men on to the Local Board of Health, and devoted themselves to the speedy carrying out of numerous sanitary reforms. Sewers were freely ventilated, additional sewers were constructed, the polluted * See ante, p. 405. The "Bell" and "Johnny Gilpin's Ride"-Mrs. Gilpin on the Stile-How Cowper came to write "Johnny Gilpin "-A Supplement to the Story -Historic Reminiscences of the "Bell" at Edmonton-Charles Lamb's Visit there-Lamb's Residence at Edmonton-The Grave of Charles Lamb-Edmonton Church-The "Merry Devil of Edmonton "-The Witch of Edmonton-Archbishop Tillotson-Edmonton Fairs-Southgate-Arno's Grove-Bush Hill Park. We have stated in the preceding chapter that the main road northwards runs through the centre of the village, and indeed forms the principal street of Tottenham High Cross. It continues straight on for some two miles or more towards Edmonton. This bit of roadway has acquired some celebrity, for Londoners at least, as the scene of Johnny Gilpin's famous ride, as related by Cowper. Indeed, we might ask, what traveller has ever refreshed himself or herself at the "Bell," and not thought of Johnny Gilpin, and his ride from London and back, nor sympathised with his worthy spouse on the disasters is a favourite resort for London holiday-makers. ¡ the event of the season. It was reprinted in many A painting of Johnny Gilpin's ride is fixed outside the tavern, and the house is commonly known as "Gilpin's Bell;" the landlord, however, designates it "The Bell and Johnny Gilpin's Ride." In his "Library of English Literature," Professor Henry Morley thus tells the story of that everpopular favourite ballad :-"Lady Austen one evening told Cowper the story of John Gilpin,' which, as told by her, tickled his fancy so much that he was kept awake by fits of laughter during great part of the night after hearing it, and must needs turn it into a ballad when he got up. Mrs. Unwin's son sent it to the Public Advertiser, where it appeared without an author's name. John Henderson, an actor from Bath, who took the London forms, and talked of in all circles; prints of 'John Gilpin,' were familiar in shop-windows; and Cowper, who was finishing the 'Task,' felt that his more serious work would be helped if it were published with this 'John Gilpin,' as an avowed piece by the same author." It is now fairly established as the most popular classic, and almost every English child knows it by heart. Indeed, so famous has the ballad, and consequently the "Bell" at Edmonton, become, that Mr. Mark Boyd tells us in his "Social Gleanings," that some American friends, who had come to England, declared that they had seen the two places most worth a visit in the metropolis, namely, "St. Paul's Cathedral, and the house connected with John Gilpin's famous ride." Mr. John Timbs, in his "Century of Anecdote," gives a similar version of the story of John Gilpin: "This little poem was composed by Cowper about the year 1782, upon a story told to the poet by Lady Austen, in order to relieve one of the poet's fits of depressive melancholy. Lady Austen, it so happened, remembered the tale from the days of her childhood in the nursery, and its effects on the fancy of Cowper had the air almost of enchantment, for he told her the next morning that he had been kept awake during the greater part of the night by convulsions of irrepressible nghter, brought on by the recollection of her story, and that he had turned the chief facts of it into a ballad. Somehow or other it found its way into the newspapers, and Henderson, the actor, perceiving how true it was to nature, recited it in some of his public readings. Southey, whose judgment on such subjects is worth having and recording, conjectured that possibly the tale might have been first suggested to Cowper by a poem written by Sir Thomas More in his youthful days, entitled 'The Merry Jest of the Serjeant and Freere;' and it is quite within the range of probability that the tale which Lady Austen remembered and related may have originally come from this source, for there is next to nothing really new under the sun." It has been much disputed, as probably our readers are aware, whether or not "John Gilpin" was an entirely fictitious romance, a creation of Cowper's brain, or whether its author founded his poem upon an adventure, or rather a mis-adventure, in the life of a real personage. The quotation above given from John Timbs, and the opinion of Southey, would certainly seem to give support to the former supposition; but in one of the volumes of the Gentleman's Magazine towards the close of the last century there is an entry which certainly looks quite the other way. According to that, the name of the individual who was really the subject of Cowper's inimitable ballad was Jonathan Gilpin, and he died at Bath, in September, 1790. The following notice appears in the Gentleman's Magazine for November of that year:-"The gentleman who was so severely ridiculed for bad horsemanship under the title of John Gilpin died, a few days ago, at Bath, and has left an unmarried daughter, with a fortune of £20,000." If this was really the case, then, in all probability, the memorable ride from London to the " Bell" at Edmonton and back again, the loss of wig, and the other accessories of the story, were not matters of pure invention, but some of the stern realities of life to a certain civic dignitary whose name has passed away. It may not be generally known, though Mr. William Hone has recorded the fact in his amusing "Table-Book," that Cowper afterwards added an amusing little episode to John Gilpin's ride, which was found in the poet's own handwriting among the papers of his friend, Mrs. Unwin, illustrated with a comical sketch by George Romney. The episode consisted of three stanzas, which ran as follows :"Then Mrs. Gilpin sweetly said Unto her children three, 'I'll clamber o'er the style so high, And you climb after me.' "But having climbed unto the top, She could no farther go; But sat, to every passer-by A spectacle and show. "Who said, 'Your spouse and you to-day It is much to be regretted that no more lines of this interesting ballad were discovered, as they were evidently intended to form an addendum to the "Diverting History of Johnny Gilpin," for it is supposed that in the interval between dinner and tea Mrs. Gilpin, finding the time to hang rather heavily on her hands, during her husband's involuntary absence, rambled out with her children into the fields at the back of the "Bell," where she met with the embarrassment recorded on ascending one of those awkward gates and stiles which abound in the neighbourhood of Edmonton and Tottenham. The droll picture of Mrs. Gilpin seated astride on the stile will be found in the pleasant pages of Mr. Hone. We may state here that the "Bell" at Edmonton was a house of good repute as far back as the days of James I., as will appear from the following extract from John Savile's tractate, entitled, "King James's Entertainment at Theobalds, with his Welcome to London." Having described the vast concourse of people that flocked forth to greet their new sovereign on his approach to the metropolis, honest John says:-"After our breakfast at Edmonton, at the sign of the 'Bell,' we took occasion to note how many would come down in the next hour; so coming up into a chamber next to the street, where we might both best see, and likewise take notice of all passengers, we called for an hour-glass, and after we had disposed of ourselves who should take the number of the horse, and who the foot, we turned the hour-glass, which before it was half run out, we could not possibly truly number them, they came so exceedingly fast; but there we broke off, and made our account of 309 horses, and 137 footmen, which course con tinued that day from four o'clock in the morning till three o'clock in the afternoon, and the day before also, as the host of the house told us, without intermission." Besides establishing the existence of the renowned "Bell" at this period, the foregoing passage we have quoted is curious in other respects. Charles Lamb, the last years of whose life were passed at Edmonton, and whose boyhood is so pleasantly connected with Christ's Hospital,* was in the habit of repairing to the "Bell" with any of his friends who may have visited him, when on their return; and here he used to take a parting glass, generally of porter, with them. Lamb-" that frail good man," as Wordsworth affectionately called him-was the beloved and honoured friend of the leading intellectual lights of his day. From his early school days to his death he was the bosom friend of the poet Coleridge, and the intimate of Leigh Hunt, Rogers, Southey, and Talfourd. By the last-named gentleman his biography, including his letters, &c., was published in 1848. The writings of Lamb, like those of Goldsmith, and especially the "Essays of Elia," mirror forth the gentleness and simplicity of their author's nature. To his wit, Moore's lines on Sheridan most admirably apply : "Whose wit, in the combat, as gentle and bright, Macaulay has paid the following tribute to his memory :-"We admire his genius; we love the kind nature which appears in all his writings; and we cherish his memory as much as if we had known him personally." One one occasion Lamb and Coleridge were conversing together on the incidents of the latter's early life, when he was beginning his career in the Church, and Coleridge was describing some of the facts in his usual tone, when he paused, and said, "Pray, Mr. Lamb, did you ever hear me preach ?" To this the latter replied, "I never heard you do anything else." Lucy Aikin, in one of her letters, gives her estimate of the character of Charles Lamb in the following words :—“There is no better English -a true and than that of poor Charles Lamboriginal genius; the delight of all who knew, and much more of all who read him, and a man whom none who had once seen him could ever forget." Having already travelled somewhat further northward than we had at first intended, we must forbear passing on to Enfield, where Lamb appears also at one time to have resided; but we may be pardoned See Vol. II., p. 370. 567 for introducing one or two scraps of correspondence having reference to that fact. Charles Lamb writes to a friend from Enfieid Chase, Oct. 1, 1827: "Dear R-, I am settled, and for life I hope, at Enfield. I have taken the prettiest, compactest house I ever saw." And the same friend writes in similar terms: "I took the stage to Edmonton, and walked thence to Enfield. I found them-i.e., Charles and Mary Lamb-in their new house, a small but comfortable place, and Charles Lamb quite delighted with his retirement. He does not fear the solitude of the situation, though he seems to be almost without an acquaintance (here), and dreads rather than seeks visitors." In a letter addressed by Lamb, about this time, to his friend Tom Hood, we get a glimpse of the "inner life" of the Lambs at Enfield. "If I have anything in my head," he writes, "I will send it to Mr. Watts. Strictly speaking, he should have had my album-verses, but a very intimate friend importun'd me for the trifles, and I believe I forgot Mr. Watts, or lost sight at the time of his similar souvenir. Jamieson conveyed the farce from me to Mrs. C. Kemble; he will not be in town before the 27th. Give our kind loves to all at Highgate, and tell them that we have finally torn ourselves outright away from Colebrooke, where I had no health, and are about to domiciliate for good at Enfield, where I have experienced good. 'Lord, what good hours do we keep ! "See the rest in the 'Complete Angler.' "We have got our books into our new house. I am a dray-horse, if [I] was not ashamed of the undigested, dirty lumber, as I toppled 'em out of the cart, and blest Becky that came with 'em for her having an unstuff'd brain with such rubbish. We shall get in by Michael's Mass. 'Twas with some You may pain we were evuls'd from Colebrooke. find some of our flesh sticking to the door-posts. To change habitations is to die to them; and in But I don't my time I have died seven deaths. with it a rejuvenescence. 'Tis an enterprise; and know whether every such change does not bring shoves back the sense of death's approximating, which, tho' not terrible to me, is at all times particularly distasteful. My house-deaths have generally been periodical, recurring after seven years; but this last is premature by half that time. Cut off in the flower of Colebrook! The Middletonian stream, and all its echoes, mourn. dwindle. A parvis fiunt minima! Mrs. Hood!" Even minnows I fear to invite Lamb, it is stated, was addicted to the practice |