Great fun was made of this meagre spectacle, as we may see by the satirical sketch, by H. B., entitled, "Going to a Half-Crownation," where the Dukes of Cumberland and Sussex are shown in a hack cab, the King and Queen in a hackney coach, on the box of which sits Lord Chancellor Brougham, bearing the great seal; whilst the omnibus behind contains the Fitzclarences, the King's family by Mrs. Jordan. The peers and peeresses are on foot; first, Lord Grey carrying the Sword of State, then Lord and Lady Durham, and last, Lady Grey. The gentleman on horseback is Mr. Lee, High Bailiff of Westminster.
Order ordered by the King William IV
"The four regiments of Hussars to be dressed exactly alike. Their officers to have one dress only, and that of a less costly pattern, which will forthwith be prepared."
Of course, this, like the former ukase, could not escape the satirist, and we have the accompanying illustration by R. S. entitled, "Raising the Wind by Royal Authority. His Majesty intends diminishing the extravagant expense of the Military Officer's dress. See the papers."
Here we see the Jew old clothesmen chaffering against each other and bargaining with Hussar Officers for their compulsorily left-off finery.
The illustration, by an anonymous artist, shows the Duke of Wellington providing the people with beer, in a popular manner. It is entitled "Opening the Beer Trade; or, Going into a New Line of Business."
Apropos of this, there was a little joke, in the shape of a drawing by H. B., which can neither be placed as a satirical print, nor a caricature, but is a simple bit of pure fun. About the time of this discussion, the Bishopric of Derry was vacant, value about £11,000 a year, and it was humorously suggested that, to save the nation the £10,000, the Princess Victoria should be made the bishop of Derry
The royal assent was given on September 22, 1831, to "An Act to amend the laws relating to Hackney Carriages," etc., by which it was enacted that, up to January 5, 1833, they should be limited to twelve hundred, and, after that date, there was to be no limitation to their number, except that caused by the law of demand and supply. The hackney coach was a cumbrous vehicle with two horses, and, in 1823, one-horsed vehicles were introduced, called cabriolets, speedily shortened into cabs.
On December 23, 1834, Joseph Aloysius Hansom, an architect, took out a patent, No. 6733, for "a vehicle for conveying loads, etc.," and from that time to this his name has been inseparably connected in England with cabs. Not that his cab was like the present "hansom," which is a product of much evolution. There was no back seat for the driver, and its "safety" consisted in its cranked axle. He sold his rights to a company for £10,000, but never got a penny piece of it. The only money he ever got out of it was £300, which, when the company had got into a muddle, was paid him to take temporary management and put things straight again.
The hackney coach was a cumbrous vehicle with two horses, and, in 1823, one-horsed vehicles were introduced, called cabriolets, speedily shortened into cabs. They began modestly with twelve, and in 1831 had increased to one hundred and sixty-five.
But it was a very noisy city, this London. The watchmen, not altogether done away with, would croak out his "Past twelve o'clock, and a frosty morning;" the milkwoman made the early morning hideous with her shrieks, as also did the chimneysweep and the newsman, who brought your morning paper; the peripatetic vendor of fish, or cats' meat, cried out, the dustman rang a bell and yelled, whilst all sorts of street hawkers helped to swell the din. Muffin men not only cried out but rang a bell, as did also the postman; but then his bell was legalized and useful, as, on hearing it, people could rush to the door and give him the letters needing posting instead of going to a post-office, which might be some distance off, and there were no pillar-boxes in those days.
Here is a sketch of the uniform of the "New Police" as they were called, copied from a satirical print of Sir Robert Peel, by the celebrated H. B. (John Doyle, father of Richard Doyle, to whom Punch owed so much). The hats were worn until a comparatively recent period, and in summer-time they wore white trousers.