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- text
- RICH MAN’S CRUMBS
In the year 1814, during the summer following my first taste of the
‘Poor Man’s Pudding,’ a sea voyage was recommended to me by my
physician. The battle of Waterloo having closed the long drama of
Napoleon’s wars, many strangers were visiting Europe. I arrived in
London at the time the victorious princes were there assembled enjoying
the Arabian Nights’ hospitalities of a grateful and gorgeous
aristocracy, and the courtliest of gentlemen and kings--George the
Prince Regent.
I had declined all letters but one to my banker. I wandered about for
the best reception an adventurous traveller can have--the reception, I
mean, which unsolicited chance and accident throw in his venturous way.
But I omit all else to recount one hour’s hap under the lead of a very
friendly man, whose acquaintance I made in the open street of Cheapside.
He wore a uniform, and was some sort of a civic subordinate; I forget
exactly what. He was off duty that day. His discourse was chiefly of the
noble charities of London. He took me to two or three, and made admiring
mention of many more.
‘But,’ said he, as we turned into Cheapside again, ‘if you are at all
curious about such things, let me take you--if it be not too late--to
one of the most interesting of all--our Lord Mayor’s Charities, sir;
nay, the charities not only of a Lord Mayor, but, I may truly say, in
this one instance, of emperors, regents, and kings. You remember the
event of yesterday?’
‘That sad fire on the river-side, you mean, unhousing so many of the
poor?’
‘No. The grand Guildhall Banquet to the princes. Who can forget it? Sir,
the dinner was served on nothing but solid silver and gold plate, worth
at the least £200,000--that is, 1,000,000 of your dollars; while the
mere expenditure of meats, wines, attendance, and upholstery, etc.,
cannot be footed under £25,000--125,000 dollars of your hard cash.’
‘But, surely, my friend, you do not call that charity--feeding kings at
that rate?’
‘No. The feast came first--yesterday; and the charity after--to-day. How
else would you have it, where princes are concerned? But I think we
shall be quite in time--come; here we are at King Street, and down there
is Guildhall. Will you go?’
‘Gladly, my good friend. Take me where you will. I come but to roam and
see.’
- title
- RICH MAN’S CRUMBS