Penny Dreadfuls, 1850 · page 197 of 397
The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 197: what you’re looking at
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THE MYSTERIES. tened tv you with the respect due to a lady of your appearance: but I really don't wish to hear any more, As for confestion—that’s all gammon ; and if I roust swing, I ¢hall die game.” Mrs. Brace lifted ber hands as if in despair of converting him, and, turning away, issued from the cell. Mr. Soper cidsed the massive door— locked and bolted it again—and then conducted the milliner and her attendant to the other quarters of the prison. But thither we shall not follow them: suffice it to sav that, having inspected the remainder of the gaol, the visitors took their departere, leaving Mr. Soper well contented with the recompense which he had received for his trouble CHAPTER LIIL THE MYSTERIES OF OLD PAINTINGS. In the times whereof wé are writing, the honse which atood nett to Newgate, in the street that bdrrows its | mame from the prison, was occupied by a picture- | dealer, This house was about fifteen feet higher than the gaol; and a person might easily let himself town ‘rom the roof of the former to the leads of the tter. The picture-dealer was a man considerably ad- vanced in years: or, to speak more accurately, he | was verging upon sixty-five. He was a widower— | bad no children—and, being excessively parsimo- ( nious, Kept byt a stnall establishment in the shape of domeajica. An qid woman performed the duties of per, cook, and maid-of-all-work: a slip- ' shod, humgry-looking boy attended in the shop when | his mastor was otherwise engaged ;-—and. the third | floor was oceupied by an artist whom the picture- ‘ @ealer retained constantly in his employment for | purposes which will almost immediately transpire, _ Mr. Shrubsole—for that was the euphonious name ‘of the picture-dealer—was a tall, thin man, with a pale countenance, a bald head fringed with white | hair, and large eyes of that dull hue which, being a mixture of light gray and green, gave them the ap- pearance of having been boiled. His mouth had fallen in, ‘occause he had not a single tooth left in his head ; and his nose being particularly pointed, the aatiines of his profile were sharp and angular. His attire was ascedy suit of black, which age and dirt had buckles of the same metal to his shoes, amd you have before your eyes a complete portraiture of Mr. Shrubsole. | ‘The shop was narrow, but high and leng. The windows were very seldom cleaned—tbe floor never ; and the ceiling was az black as a ceiling, that once was white, well could be. The place was always in- Volved in a semi-obscurity, even in the most glorious summers day: but in the winter time it was par- Geularly sombre. This, hewever, the old man was wont to represent as the very best light in which real judges and connoisseurs could possibly wigh to view paintings; end when evening came, or a fog pre- vailed in the City, he would distribute half-a-dozen wretched candies, twenty to the pound, about the | | shop, and then vow that it was a perfect illumis tion. Notwithstanding the sordid appearance of the sho itself, it contained a great number of paintings. the different Schools, whether ancient or modesn, were represented in that congress of pt ; and if seemed as if all imaginable subjecteand branches of the art had exercised the right of universal suffrage to send suitable members to that assembly. Por- traits, landscapes, naval and military battles, river- scenes, animals, flowers, cities, ruins, angels, devils, historical and religious designs,—in a word, every description of subject might be viewed and selected in Mr. Shrubsole’s “Gallery of Art.” And if the visitor were not satisfied with what he beheld on the ground-floor, he was escorted to the first and second storeys, all the rooms of which were likewise filled with pictures. Any individual who was not somewhat initiated in the mysteries of Mr. Shrubsole’s trade, would have fancied that he the. finest collection of paintings in all the world, and that he must be a man of enormous wealth, For Raphadls, Michae) Az gelos, Correggios, Titians, Guides, Rembrandts, Van- dykes, Claudes, Poussins, Murillos, Hogarths, &c, were as plentiful in Mr. Shrubsole’s establishment as blackberries on any hedge in England at the proper We shall presently ascertain how it was that Mr Shrubsole became possessed of such splendid pio- tures, all by the great masters: but before we enter more profoundly into the mysteries of his trade, we must observe that at the farther end of the shop, and in the very darkest nook, there hung jn 9 massive frame a piece of canvass painted all over a very dark and dingy brown, unrelicved by a single shade or ontline indicative of a picture. | .It was mid-day; and Mr. Shrubsolé was in his shop, surveying the various master-pieces with an ineffable camplacency,—while the boy was getting his dinner behind a Vandyke that was leaning against the wall. . Presently a short, stout, elderly, pragmatical gen- fleman entered the establishment; and, tapping the ferule 6f his gold-headed cane sharply upon the floor, he said, “ A friend of mine has placed your catalogue in my hands; and I have come to see the pictures accordingly. But mmd—I'm a tolerable good judge, I flatter myaelf—and I shal} very soon discover whether they are the originals or only copies.” “It you find any eopies pero, air,” responded Sbrabeole,“ I'lleat’en.” . “'Well—you can say nothing fairer,” observed the gentleman, taking the pieture-deales’s answer very seriously s and, placing himeelf in an attentive atti- tude, he began to survey the large painting behind which the boy was devouring a sausage and alice of bread. “Splendid altar-piece, that!” eaid Mr. Shrabeole, aftera pause. “The great maner’s hand visible in every tint—characteristic brilliancy of style-—eplen- dour and richness of colouring, eh? T,ook at that Saint in the foreground—he literally seems to stand | out of the canvas.” Still the elderly gentleman made no reply—but kept his looke intently fixed upon ‘the painting, just for all the world as if he were criticising it qrost mie nutely. But Mr. Shrubsole had already seen through him as completely as if his entire form were COMIC HOOKS (G co