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NOTES ON ISSUE 7: GLOSSARY
PART 1 OF 3
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…a small part of his income was
derived from the pilotage of timid women (mostly of a full habit and
past the middle term of life) from Tellson’s side of the tides to the
opposite shore.
Here, “full habit” presumably refers to the mode of dress of the timid,
middle-aged women Mr. Cruncher conveys across traffic. Women’s clothing
in both the 18th and 19th centuries tended to be extensive and somewhat
impeding, inevitably including full skirts, large hats, etc.
Middle-aged, timid women would not walk briskly at the best of times,
and in multiple petticoats they would be even further encumbered.
…they were bawling and hissing round a dingy hearse
and dingy mourning coach, in which mourning coach there was only one
mourner, dressed in the dingy trappings that were considered essential
to the dignity of the position.
In driven funeral processions, the hearse would be followed by mourning
carriages, in which the friends and relations of the deceased followed
the body to burial. As the Dictionary of Daily Wants (1859)
directs, “In going to funeral, the nearest relatives of the deceased
occupy the carriages nearest the hearse” and “[t]he same order prevails
in returning” (450). In the procession witnessed by Jerry Cruncher, the
fact that there is only one mourning coach, and only one mourner inside
it – not to mention that this mourner seems to have put on his sorrow
for the occasion (“dressed in the dingy trappings that were considered
essential to the dignity of the position”) – suggests either that the
deceased had scarcely any relations, or that he will scarcely be
missed. The whole affair is “dingy” to the extent that it is black,
though the word also suggests shabbiness. Black was of course the color
of mourning; and just as carriages in a funeral procession were put in
order according to the relationship of the mourners to the deceased,
attire and deportment were regulated according to degree of intimacy.
The Dictionary of Daily Wants (1859) offers the following
guidelines for
MOURNING, ETIQUETTE OF. – The
various degrees of relationship which the living bear to the dead,
regulate the depth of the mourning worn, and the length of time that it
is to be retained. Mourning for a husband in the widow’s cap and crape
is usually extended over twelve months, and after that period the
wearer may either adopt a half mourning, or put by mourning altogether,
without appearing singular or wanting in feeling. In cases of this
kind, the wearing of mourning beyond the prescribed interval depends,
as a matter of course, greatly upon sentiment, the degree of affection
which subsisted between the parties, the length of time which the
marriage existed, &c. Mourning for parents is usually worn with
crape for six months, afterwards without crape for the same period. For
a brother or sister, six months; but in many cases for a longer period.
For an uncle or aunt, three months; the same for a first or second
cousin. Male attire, however, is not subject to very stringent rules;
black is always expensive wear, and sometimes a person’s pursuits and
avocations will not permit him to wear it. The most prominent article
in mourning with males, is the hat. For this purpose hatbands of cloth
are now made of various depths, as required. For a wife, the hatband
should, in the first months of mourning reach to the extreme verge of
the hat, and be gradually reduced in depth as time passes by. For a
parent, the hat-band should reach to within two inches of the crown,
and so in proportion according to the degree of relationship…. During
the first few weeks for very near relatives, it is customary to observe
comparative seclusion, balls, theatres, concerts, parties, &c.,
being alike unvisited. Custom, in general, only exacts the adoption of
mourning from the relatives of deceased persons, but there are
occasions when friendship may evince a proper delicacy in such a
matter, not only out of respect to the departed, but in consideration
of the survivors. Thus, if a person be going to visit a family, with
the members of which he is on the terms of the closest intimacy, and
who have recently experienced a heavy bereavement, such visitor,
instead of appearing in coloured clothes, should dress in black. (692)
It is thus appropriate that the single
mourner in the funeral procession should be dressed in “dingy
trappings” for the occasion, though the relationship of this mourner to
the deceased remains unspecified, and is somewhat compromised when he
bails out of the mourning carriage before reaching the cemetery.
“…Old Bailey Spi-i-ies!”
The Old Bailey spy whose funeral procession Jerry Cruncher pursues
turns out to be Roger Cly, one of the spies who informed – together
with the man named Barsad – against Darnay at his trial. Just as
Darnay’s trial is based on that of Francis Henry de la Motte (see Issue
3, glossary part 3 of 4, for a more detailed account of de la Motte’s
trial), the figure of Barsad is based on de la Motte’s accomplice,
Lutterloh, who informed against him. Roger Cly is based on a spy named
Roger who also participated in the de la Motte trial.
…after shedding his cloak, hat, long hatband, white
pocket-handkerchief, and other symbolical tears.
A long hatband, white handkerchief, and black cloak were all
appropriate mourning attire for a man. As the Dictionary of Daily
Wants (1859) notes, the hat is the “most prominent article” in
male mourning, the largeness of the hatband varying according to the
degree of intimacy between the mourner and the deceased. Furthermore,
“[p]ocket handkerchiefs used during the period of mourning should be
white, not coloured” and “[l]ittle or no jewelry should be displayed
when persons are in deep mourning, the somberness of the one, and the
ostentation of the other, [being] incongruous” (692). The “symbolical
tears” of the mourner add, in this instance, to the irony and general
ridiculousness of his flight. Whatever they may lack in sincerity,
however, they are perfectly correct according to funeral etiquette.
…while the tradesmen hurriedly shut up their shops;
for a crowd in those times stopped at nothing, and was a monster much
dreaded.
In the 18th century, and especially in the early 1780s (this portion of
A Tale of Two Cities is set in 1781), mobs were of
considerable concern to London authorities. Mobbing had become a
critical form of protest against government policies in the capital
city, and 1780 is famous for the Gordon Riots, when a group of some
30,000-50,000 people, led by Lord George Gordon, overran the streets of
London. The cause was partly Parliament’s inattention to an
anti-Catholic petition presented by the Protestant Association; but the
mob was amplified by those with general anti-government sentiments and
those who merely wanted an opportunity for violence and looting.
Several of the London prisons were damaged during the Gordon Riots,
which lasted for several days; the Bank of England was also assaulted;
and more than 400 people were killed (Johnson 31-2).
…with a chimney-sweep driving the hearse … and with
a pieman, also attended by his cabinet minister, driving the mourning
coach. A bear-leader, a popular street character of the time, was
impressed as an additional ornament…
A chimney-sweep, or chimney-sweeper, was literally a sweeper of
chimneys. Children were often employed as sweeps because their small
size made them better able to fit inside the chimneys they were
cleaning (until the invention in 1805 of a long-handled brush for
reaching soot inside the chimney-tops, boys were employed to climb up
and manually clean these portions of the chimneys) (Oxford English
Dictionary). Thus, the chimney-sweeper driving the hearse may or
may not be an adult. A pieman, on the other hand, is a kind of
itinerant victualler, offering meat, fish, or fruit pies for sale
(Sanders 105); and his “cabinet minister” is a facetious name for the
person supervising his efforts (a cabinet minister being an advisor or
counselor). A “bear-leader” is a man who leads and accompanies a
performing bear. Both he and his bear are “impressed” by the crowd –
meaning forcibly enlisted – as “additional ornaments” in the
procession.
Its destination was the old church of Saint
Pancras, far off in the fields. It got here in course of time; insisted
on pouring into the burial-ground; finally, accomplished the interment
of the deceased Roger Cly in its own way, and highly to its own
satisfaction.
St. Pancras’ churchyard was, in the late 18th century, “far off in the
fields” above London. Though the area has long since been absorbed by
the metropolis, Pancras was still a village in the 1780s. Harrison’s New
and Universal History, Description and Survey of … London (1776)
gives this account of Pancras (and its church and churchyard) as it
appeared at about the time of Roger Cly’s funeral procession:
PANCRAS
… is a small hamlet situated about a mile and a half north of London,
in the road to Highgate. The church, which is the most distinguished
building in it, is a plain Gothic structure, and consists only of a low
square tower, without a spire. It is dedicated to St. Pancras, a young
Phrygian nobleman, who suffered martyrdom under the emperor Dioclesian,
for his strict adherence to Christianity. Divine service is only
performed in this church the first Sunday in the month; notwithstanding
which, the living is very valuable, and is in the gift of the dean and
chapter of St. Paul’s. The church-yard contains a prodigious number of
tomb-stones, the chief part of which are erected in the memory of Roman
Catholics, it being the principal place of interment for those people
in the neighborhood of London.
There is a vulgar tradition that this church is of greater antiquity
than St. Paul’s cathedral; but this is an evident mistake, for the
church of St. Pancras, termed the mother of St. Paul’s, was situated in
the city of Canterbury, and was changed from a Pagan temple to a
Christian church by St. Austin the monk, in the year 598, when it was
dedicated to St. Pancras.
The hamlet or parish of Pancras is very extensive, and the buildings in
it are widely dispersed. There are only a few houses near the church;
one of which has been long noted for a mineral spring, but it was
formerly much more frequented than at present. (571)
This illustration, a “View of the Church
of St. Pancras,” agrees with the description given above
(the church, a plain Gothic structure with a square tower, lacks
a spire, though it seems to possess a weather-vane). To reach
this churchyard, the funeral procession probably follows Fleet
Street (where Mr. Cruncher first encounters it), turns north
into Fetter Lane, then west onto Holborn, north onto Grays Inn
Lane and Highgate Road, and afterwards onto the New Road (the
“New Road from Paddington to Islington”). This passage
can be traced on Thornton’s map of London (1784), though
St. Pancras’ itself is just beyond the upper limits of
the map.
Click
on map for larger view
In the late 18th and early 19th
centuries, the literary associations of St. Pancras’ churchyard were
enhanced by the Romantics: According to Baedeker’s London and Its
Environs (1908), William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin
were both buried there, and “it is said that [the Romantic poet Percy]
Shelley first met his second wife, Mary Godwin [later Mary Shelley,
author of Frankenstein], at her mother’s grave in this
churchyard” (273).
…and thence to the plundering of public-houses. At
last, after several hours, when sundry summer-houses had been pulled
down, and some area railings had been torn up, to arm the more
belligerent spirits, a rumour got about that the Guards were coming.
Public houses are places of public resort, usually for lodging or
refreshment, such as pubs, taverns, or inns; summer-houses are simple
structures in parks or gardens intended to provide a shady place for
rest or leisure outdoors (and thus delicate enough to succumb to the
maltreatment described); and area railings are those around the “area”
– “an enclosed court, [especially] a sunken court, shut off from the
pavement by railings, and approached by a flight of steps, which gives
access to the basement of dwelling-houses” (OED). The Guards,
rumored to be on their way, are military forces. They were often
called in to control London riots (Sanders 105).
Whether his meditations
on mortality had touched his liver, or whether his general health had
been previously at all amiss … he made a short call upon his medical
advisor – a distinguished surgeon – on his way back.
Jerry’s “liver,” in its possible susceptibility to “meditations on
mortality,” is a kind of figurative organ. The liver is frequently
associated with disposition or temperament, frequently identified as
the source of love or the more violent passions. Together with the
brain and heart, it is often used metaphorically to represent the vital
functions of the body (OED).
“…my wenturs goes wrong tonight…”
When Mr. Cruncher, who tends to pronounce “w” like “v,” insists that
his “wenturs” are going wrong, he is describing his “ventures” – the
pursuits of “a honest tradesman.”
…taking a bite out of his bread and butter, and
seeming to help it down with a large invisible oyster out of his
saucer.
Mr. Cruncher’s gesture – of “seeming to help [his bread and butter]
down with a large invisible oyster out of his saucer” – is apparently
one
of swift slurping. The gesture of eating an oyster, which would be
consumed directly from the shell, would resemble a drink taken from a
saucer (an oyster shell, opened, is somewhat saucer-shaped). The
comparison also conveys a sense of exceeding dispatch: Oysters,
according to the Dictionary of Daily Wants (1859), “should
be eaten the moment they are opened, for if not eaten when absolutely
alive their flavour and spirit are lost” (741). Mr. Cruncher, according
to his table manners, seems to be in some haste to nourish himself.
“If I don’t, you’ll have short commons to-morrow,”
returned that gentleman, shaking his head.
“Commons,” in this sense, are provisions – rations, food. The threat of
“short commons” is the threat of an insufficiency.
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