“Had fire lit in my office for first time this season. Saw Peter Poland and Morris junior of Hanway Street this evening.
The weather throughout this month has been remarkably fine and mild (with but very little fog) until the two last days which has been remarkably severe, being quite a dry sharp frost. The commencement of this winter may be dated November 29th.
The Mint, that focus of crime and misery in the Borough of Southwark, it is expected will be shortly demolished. A new street is projected from Blackman Street to Southwark Bridge Road which involves the entire destruction of the above notorious place.
Workmen are engaged laying down the electric telegraph from the nine elms along the footway on the west side of Lambeth Place, Kennington. On Monday last its efficiency was tried nearly opposite Vernon Chapel when it was found in good working order, to that point – the wires are placed in hollow hemp … which are again secured in strong metal tubes which are sunk … .
From this month may be dated the running of omnibuses from P… and from Charing Cross to the Bank for 2d, which until lately was … them), they are now quite plentiful.”
[Editor’s note: No entry on 1 December]
[Editor’s note: The location of the Mint in Southwark is still commemorated by Mint Street off Marshalsea Road.]
“Went to the church of St Mary Newington Butts; arrived there at 10 o’clock, saw a young couple married. Looked round the church and read monuments and commenced taking off one (a Latin inscription), but was interrupted by the pew opener, who told me come another day as service was about to commence. Sat in free seats in middle of church, between pews 51 and 70. Hastened home and dined on pork sausages. Afternoon started with Ann (she wore her new cloak for first time) for St Paul’s Cathedral, where we arrived at 3 o’clock. First looked round the monuments and then went in the choir and stayed the whole of service time (indeed had we been not disposed so to do, we must have stopped the whole time, for the vergers lock the gates and there you are prisoners – only this afternoon two females were taken ill in a fainting state, but no assistance could be rendered without, the verger having locked the gates and departed and went his way, so that there was pretty confusion – people rattling at the gates, but nobody came till half an hour afterwards, when by chance the gate was opened). Left at 5 o’clock, returned home. — After tea I had Ann up in my room as usual. We had not been closeted more than a minute when there came such a rattling at the outer room door which continued for about 10 minutes till at last the door was opened and Mattie walked in and caught us in the inner room. But [he?] said he had come for his milk which we had taken in. [He?] nodded as to say he saw how matters stood, but however, although he spoilt our sport, he did not totally hinder us from getting into mischief, for I made a terrible mess over Ann’s new cloak and my own breeches. — Reading etc the rest of the evening.”
“Some person this afternoon threw a basket from Eccleston Bridge with a cat in it, but the cat made its escape by getting out of the basket and swimming across, whilst the coal heavers pushed a light barge off, and took possession of the basket, which was nearly new. Somewhere about this time died Mr Pharoah, landlord of public house north side Little Pulteney Street, and one door from Wardour Street, aged 22 years.”
“All but out of coals at Wharf, having not one ton to spare in all the warehouses and craft being quite clear, which but for the good management of George Palmer, the weigher, would have been cleaned out in the early part of the afternoon. Since the Wharf has been opened, we never before have been so near out of coals.”
“Had job for first time to change silver into gold (an unusual thing) at the ‘Monster’ Public House, St George’s Terrace – over wooden bridge, Pimlico – and the Grosvenor Arms, Lower Belgrave Place, Pimlico. Miss Isabella Emery of 24 Hanway Street died, being subjected to violent fits, of which she had 11 the Sunday previous – this was one of my former mistresses, whom I served in the years 1840-41 as errand boy.”
“Rose half past six, breakfasted and made for St Mary-le-Bow, Cheapside; in my way there copied into scrapbook inscriptions on stones against houses as near facsimile as possible, as also in church porch an hour previous to service commencing. On my way home by St Giles’s Church in the Fields, seeing a funeral about to commence, I walked in and stayed the service time. Richard Andrews, undertaker, about the oldest in the metropolis – a wonderful little man – at a rough guess I should reckon attended to their graves not less than 20,000 bodies. Liver … for dinner. Started soon after two o’clock to follow the remains of Mr McAuliffe, coal and potato dealer, of 18 James Street … half past 2 o’clock. Mutes … . The hearse and coach arrived with single horse each, Jack Harris and Harry Green, coachmen. I was told that a Mr Jukes was the undertaker, Hatchard of Crawford was furnisher of the funeral, and Nodes of Chapel Street furnished the carriages. The coffin was covered with black baize and finished with black nails and cherub head handles, with tin plate inscription with gloria and urn on the lid. The procession moved about quarter past three. Two cabs with the friends of the deceased in followed; arrived at the ground (St George Hanover Square, Tyburn Road) about three-quarters past 3 o’clock and was taken into the chapel and from thence to the grave, which was about 16 feet deep, at the further end of the ground from the chapel and a little to the left of ditto, directly at the foot of the headstone of George Frederick Leyde and about five feet from the headstone of James Gamer, in a south-easterly direction, with the head lying direct west. A neighbouring clock told four just as he was let down. He was followed by six mourners – the first his widow, and then an elderly gentleman ( I think his father) and mother, with three other females. His two shopmen (William Wood and another) were also there. I got home to tea about 5 o’clock. — After walking about impatiently waiting for — three-quarters — of an hour for Ann, I went to her lodgings in Stephen Street and was there about an hour. — After 8 o’clock at home reading history of Queen Anne etc.”