The Sun.
London, England, 1846-12-07 00:00:00

CHRISTOPHER .TADPOLE. BY illbert

Smith .

Part. IV.
The tenth chapter opens with a description of the
approach of Hickory and Christopher to Liverpool :
" The calm and soothing twilight of spring eventide
was gliding slowly onward upon the earth as Hickory
led the donkey, upon which Christopher was seated,
intended
to a rude bridle-way towards the last halt he
to make on their journey.
" They mere travelling along a bold headland, on the
ridge of which their path lay. Hitherto they had gone
for some little distance over broken ground, encumbered
with huge blocks of stone, and dug into deep quar-
ries and pits that it required some little caution to avoid
in the failing light; but now they had arrived at a beaten
track, and all was smooth before them. It was not yet
so dark that Christopher could not observe the extensive
panorama around him, although the horizon was already
veiled in shade. But his attention was principally at-
tracted by a swarm of lights that he was looking down
upon on his right, the like of which he had never be-
tore witnessed.

" They rose, bright and twinkling, even in the last
gleam of day, one above the other, until the most dis-
tant and the faintest appeared to mingle with the peeping
stars that one by one were coming out in the blue air.
Their reflection gleamed and quivered in a great water
that flowed between them and the headland ; and they
spangled the banks in long array, until they got so hazy
at the far-off points, that they only caught the eye at
intervals. But they were not all stationary. Upon the
shore, and on the water, they moved along, crossing
and re-crossing one another, and mixing with the gene-
ral mass, until all appeared to be endowed with bewil-
dering motion.
" "rhat's a larger mine than we've got,' said Chisto-
topher, as he looked in wonderment at the illumination,
his only idea of a number of lights being connected with
the working of the miners.

" It isn't a mine,' replied Hickory, 'as you shall see
to-morrow. That's a great town, and those are the
lamps. It's Liverpool.' '

They put up for the night at the " Ring o' Bells,"
at Bidston, where Christopher is unfortunately recog-
nised by a " miner," who gives information of his
whereabout to Rockey. The next morning Hickory
and Christopher go to the docks to meet Luddy, who
has come to Liverpool by water. Poor Christopher
gets confused and bewildered in the docks, and no
wonder, for—

" One had only to look upon the goods debarked under
the sheds to see what wonderful journeys the ships had
f grain and colour un-
made. n
at Strange
h o
ihome--were
e logs r
eof
pitchedw oo d
d— 00
wn in heaps. Odd out-
landish packages,
.too, were there, marked with mystic
hieroglyphics, as If the artist had learned his alphabet
from the bottles in chemists windows, or the curious
diagram—which some people pretend to understand—in
Moore's Almanac. Further on were drums of figs,
enough to have supplied all England gland with dessert for a
year, including Lord Mayor Day, at which festival
such unwonted numbers of dishes always figure in the
long lists of eatables that everybody knows, but nobody
reads—tight little band-boxes of seed and-sugar-bags,
seen singly at reputable grocers, but here stocked in
piles might not look over.
Bales of matting like enormous first-born-baby pin-
cushions ; or rather, as such would appear in the Poly-
technic microscope,
the leaf and bit of cam'
technic microscope, when the ingenious gentleman who
shows you the triumph of
that an ordinary sized man
lives all amongst the oxy-hydrogen gas and dissolving
brie. Strange casks which. might contain fish, or
treacle, or pickles, or anything else a vivid imagination
chose to fancy in them. Hides of supposed wild beasts,
looking like diseased door-pats : skins of animals as
natureviews i n
overhis
unknown as the wondrous Liver—the bird from which
the town takes its name,. and who has never been seen
avritviads
except on the corporation seal, but is supposed, in the
dark ages, to have paired off with the Dodo upon some in-
teresting division of the globe generally. Everything
lying about was odd, and new, and fork ign. Even the
carts that carried these things away were like none
r others in England : for they were very long—they
would have done for large gangways at steam-boat
1 piers—and had (gay two wheels, so that everything had

•
to be balanced in them : and if this were not done, they
threatened either to lift the horse up into the hair, like a
harnessed Pegasus, or press him to the ground beyond all
chance of progression, except he had been trained at
Astle 's to approach a conquering King upon his knees.
"Few shops diversifiA -the lines of warehouses that
rose along the road bordering the docks ; and when they
did, they were for the sale of articles of stern nautical
use—ropes and sail-cloth, and tough biscuits : outlandish
habits of oil-skin, optical instruments, and spirits. At
the dock-gates were stalls of humbler merchandise—
cheap braces and small mirrors—superannuated apples
and results of unpromising confectionary. In this new
world, Christopher had not eyesight enough to gaze in
wonder on the novelties that burst upon him at every
step. But for Hickory's guidance, he would long ago
have tumbled amidst some of the piles of strange mer-
chandise that rose everywhere right in the way of the
passenger."
He is soon, however, awakened from his dream of
wonder, for, from behind a bale of merchandise,
Rockey emerges, and seizing Christopher bears him
off, in spite of the remonstrances of Hickory, to one
of those subterranean dens of iniquity which are to be
found in such abundance in Liverpool. Their ad-
ventures there furnish the subject of another chapter,
ptreisredn, tnumber,which
iis
devoted
tbetweenthe
twowi ish concludesinterpolated the
a h
ssy Payne, during the day's excursion de-
scriptionofthesayings and doings
to
soof Sprouts and
BeHampton
Court. The description in this chapter of the jolly
man and of the cross old lady, and indeed of the whole
of the van party, is most graphic.

THE COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
Part VI. By Gilbert Abbott A'Beekett.
Merrily does Mr. A'Beckett laugh his way through
the reign of Edward 111. in this number, and mar-
vellous is the manner in which, in his merriest moods,
he keeps to the truth of history, and dresses Clio—
in the costume of Thalia. Take as a specimen his
description of the battle of Poictiers
On the 19th of September, 1356, the battle began
with a duet played by two trumpets—one on each side—
but this did not last long, for neither party desired to
listen to overtures. The French commenced the at-
tack, but they came to the point a little too soon, for
they actually ran upon the arrows of the English bow-
men. The Constable of France tried to inspire courage
into the troops on his side by roaring out Mountjoy
St. Denis !' but a stalwart Briton, telling him to hold
his noise, felled him to the ground. A strong body of
reserve, who carried their reserve to downright timidity,
fled without striking a blow. They had scarcely drawn
their swords, and received the word of command to
" cut away," when they did literally cut away, and
having cut refused to come again. John of France
flourished his battle-axe with ferocious courage ; but at
last he received two tremendous blows in the face which
brought him to the ground. His son Philip, a lad of
sixteen, fought by his side, encouraging him with cries
of 'Give it 'em, father I' which aroused the almost ex-
hausted John, and caused hiss to recover his legs. Every
kind of verbal insults was offered to him by the enemy,
and particularly by the Gascons, who indulged in a great
deal of their usual gasconade. Stand and surrender !'
cried a voice, to which John replied, If I could stand I
would not surrender, but I suppose I must fall into your
hands.' With this he tottered into a circle of English
knights, by whom he was nearly torn to pieces in the
scramble that arose for the royal captive. Some
among the crowd of his vietors endeavoured to induce
his Majesty to place himself under their charge, and
one or two began to talk to him in bad French, when
Sir Denis, a real Frenchman, who had been dismissed
from the service of his own country and entered that of
England, addressed the monarch politely in his native
tongue. John was in the act of offering up his glove to
this gentleman as a token of surrender, when the royal
gauntlet was torn to pieces by the surrounding knights,
who all wanted to have a finger in it. Every one was
eager to claim the French monarch, who seemed on the
point of being torn to pieces like a hare by a pack of ill-
bred hounds. I took him,' exclaimed fifty voices at
once, when the Earl of Warwick, rushing into the
front, thundered forth in a stentorian voice, Can't you
leave the man alone and drawing John's arm within
his own, led off the conquered King to the camp of Ed-
ward. Warwick took little Philip by the hand, and
presented father and sen to the Black Prince, who re-
ceived them with much courtesy. He invited them both
to supper, waited on the French King at table, and
soothed his grief with probably such kind expressions
as 'Poor old chap !' Never mind, old fellow !' and
other words of respectful sympathy."