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Berners Street Hoax |
The Berners Street Hoax was a hoax perpetrated by Theodore Hook in London in 1810. Hook had bet his friend Samuel Beazley, an English-Italian, that he could transform any house in London into the most talked-about address in a week. On November 27 at nine o’clock in the morning, Mrs. Tottenham, the occupant of 54 Berners Street, began receiving a large number of deliveries and visitors. Various trades people arrived claiming that they had been summoned to her house by letter. Dignitaries, including the Governor of the Bank of England, the Duke of York, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Lord Mayor of the City of London also arrived. So many people crowded into the narrow street that fights broke out. Hook had sent out four thousand letters purporting to be Mrs. Tottenham and requesting deliveries, visitors and assistance. He was soon revealed as the instigator of the prank.
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In 1810 London was the largest, wealthiest city in the world, linked by trade with every continent, and fed by the manufacturing might of northern British cities such as Liverpool and Manchester. Almost anything could be obtained in its shops, and on November 10 all of this mercantile abundance was focused for one brief day upon a single residential address located in a sleepy, middle-class neighborhood: 54 Berners Street.
The hoax began at nine o’clock in the morning when Mrs. Tottenham, the unsuspecting occupant of that address, answered her door and was greeted by a coalman delivering her an order of coal. Mrs. Tottenham hadn’t ordered any coal, but she thought nothing of it. After all, such mix-ups occur all the time.
Then more delivery men began to arrive bearing everything imaginable from the city’s huge markets: furniture, musical instruments, flowers, bread, fish, fresh vegetables, a wedding cake, and even tanks of lager piled high on a brewer’s dray.
Just when it seemed that there was nothing left in the city to deliver to her front door, tradesmen began to show up claiming that their services had been requested: chimney sweeps, physicians, dentists, wig-makers, gardeners, housemaids, undertakers. The list went on and on.
Finally, dignitaries began to arrive. The Governor of the Bank of England showed up, searching for the widow who had written him of her intent to settle a sizeable endowment on the Bank. The Archbishop of Canterbury was close behind, followed by prominent businessmen, cabinet ministers, Dukes, and finally the Lord Mayor of London.
By this time, so many were people were crowded into the narrow street that it was hard even to move. Somehow a cart was knocked over, fighting broke out, and a near riot ensued. It was well past dark by the time the crowd began to thin out.
When the dust had all settled, two men emerged from a neighboring house, shook hands, and exchanged a guinea. The two men were Theodore Hook, a writer of popular comic operas, and his friend Samuel Beazley. Hook had bet Beazley a guinea that he could transform any house in London into the most talked about address in the city within a week. Hundreds of letters later, Hook won his bet. Although he eventually confessed to being the mastermind behind the hoax, he never faced any punishment for it.
The Morning Post newspaper next day reported what happened.
Most Extraordinary Scene
The greatest hoax that ever has been heard of in this metropolis was yesterday practised in Berners-street. The house of Mrs Tottenham, a Lady of fortune, at No. 54, was beset by about a dozen tradespeople at one time, with their various commodities, and from the confusion altogether such crowds had collected as to render the street impassable.
Waggons laden with coals from the Paddington wharfs, upholsterers' goods in cart loads, organs, pianofortes, linens, jewellery, and every other description of furniture sufficient to have stocked the whole street, were lodged as near as possible to the door of 54, with anxious trades-people and a laughing mob. About this time the Lord Mayor of London arrived in his carriage, and two livery servants, but his Lordship's stay was short, and he was driven to Marlborough-street Police Office. At the Office his Lordship informed the Sitting Magistrate that he had received a note purporting to have come from Mrs. Tottenham, which stated that she had been summoned to appear before him, but that she was confined to her room by sickness, and requested his Lordship's favour to call upon her. Berners-street at this time was in the greatest confusion, by the multiplicity of trades-people, who were returning with their goods, and spectators laughing at them.
The officers belonging to Marlborough-street Office were immediately ordered out to keep order, but it was impossible for a short time. The first scene witnessed by the officers were six stout men bearing an organ, surrounded by coal-merchants with permits, barbers with wigs, mantua-makers with hand-boxes, opticians with their various articles of trade, and such was the pressure of trades-people who had been duped, that at four o'clock all was consternation and confusion. Every Officer that could be mustered was enlisted to disperse the people, and they were placed at the corners of Berners-street, to prevent trades-people from advancing towards the house with goods.
The street was not cleared at a late hour, as servants of every denomination wanting places began to assemble at five o'clock. It turned out that letters had been written to the different trades-people, which stated recommendations from persons of quality. A reward had been offered for the apprehension of the author of the criminal hoax. This hoax exceeded by far that in Bedford-street a few months since ; for besides a coffin, made to measure, agreeable to letter, five feet six, sixteen, there were accoucheurs , tooth-drawers, miniature-painters, artists of every description, auctioneers, undertakers, grocers, mercers, post-chaises, mourning-coaches, poultry, rabbits, pigeons, etc. In fact, the whole street was literally filled with the motley group.
The following are a few of the notes sent in the name of Mrs. Tottenham, for the purpose of collecting this most extraordinary group :-
Mrs. Tottenham requests Mr.-- will call upon her at two to-morrow, as she wishes to consult him about the sale of an estate. -54, Berners-street Monday. Mrs. Tottenham requests that a post-chaise and four may be at her home at two to-morrow, to convey her to the first stage towards Bath. -54, Berners-street, Monday. Mrs. Tottenham begs the Hon. Mr.-- will be good enough to give her a call at two to-morrow, as Mrs. T. is desirous of speaking with him on business of importance. -54, Berners-street, Monday. Immediately afterwards Theodore was laid up by a 'severe fit of illness, then took a country tour to convalesce, said to include Oxford with an intention to resume his studies'. A tiny undated news-cutting in Theodore's scrapbook shows he knew that the authorities were on his trail -
It is extremely probable that the Berners-street hoaxer will not long escape detection, Mrs Tottenham having resolved, be the experience what it may, to discover the Wit "by Hook or by Crook."
The Satirist magazine printed the following account in verse on 1st January 1811. Theodore sometimes contributed to the journal but all contributions were printed anonymously, so this may or may not have been written by him -
Epistle from Solomon Sappy, Esquire, in London, to his brother Simon at Liverpool.
Here, John, bring my pen, for my whimsical Muse Invites me to send brother Simon the news ! These were, my dear brother, the first words I uttered, Having swallowed my tea and three muffins well buttered,
John did as I bade him, then bowing retired, (John's as civil a footman as ever was hired.) And now I'll endeavour to tell you, in rhyme, A joke which the kiddies call "bang up and prime".
A stiff-starch'd, precise, economical dame, Who in Berner's-street lives, Mistress Tottenham by name, Had offended, it seems, some mirth-loving folks, Who resolved to be amply revenged by a hoax.
Invitations and orders were sent in her name, (In truth I must own, 'twas a scandalous shame) To milliners, wine-merchants, lawyers, musicians, Oculists, coal-merchants, barbers, opticians,
Men of fashion, men cooks, surgeons, sweeps, undertakers, Confectioners, fishmongers, innkeepers, bakers, Men-midwives - the man who exhibits a bear, And, O worse than all ! to his lordship the mayor.
All were earnestly begged to be at her door Precisely at two, or a little before, The surgeons first, armed with catheters, arrive And impatiently ask is the patient alive.
The man servant stares - now ten midwives appear, "Pray, sir, does the lady in labor live here ?" "Here's a shell," cries a man, "for the lady that's dead, "My master's behind with the coffin of lead."
Next a waggon, with furniture approaches, Then a hearse all be-plumed and six mourning coaches, Six baskets of groceries - sugars, teas, figs ; Ten drays full of beer - twenty boxes of wigs.
Fifty hampers of wine, twenty dozen French rolls, Fifteen huge waggon loads of best Newcastle coals - But the best joke of all was to see the fine coach Of his worship the mayor, all bedizen'd, approach ;
As it pass'd up the street the mob shouted aloud, His lordship was pleased and most affably bow'd, Supposing, poor man, he was cheered by the crowd ; Still he could not imagine the cause of the roar When his gold-bedeck'd footmen knock'd at the door ;
At length he found out he was duped by a hoax, And his lordship, it seems, is no friend to such jokes, For he lustily swore "he'd to punishment bring The rogues who had thus broke the peace of the king."
In sooth 'twas a shame (not withstanding 'twas witty) To make such a fool of the lord of the city, And exactly the converse of that civic rule, Which makes a lord mayor of a fool.
Away drove his lordship, by thousands attended, The people dispersed, and thus the hoax ended, Mistress Tottenham, poor lady, tho' frighten'd to fits, Slept soundly at night and recover'd her wits,
My dear brother adieu, may you live long and happy ; Your true and affectionate Solomon Sappy.
Writing his auto-biographical novel Gilbert Gurney twenty years later, Theodore confessed - I am the man - I did it ; sent a Lord Mayor in state to relieve impressed seamen, philosophers, and sages, to look at children with two heads apiece - pianofortes by dozens, and coal-waggons by scores - two thousand five hundred raspberry-tarts from half a hundred pastry-cooks - a squad of surgeons - a battalion of physicians, and a legion of apothecaries - lovers to see sweethearts, ladies to find lovers - upholsterers to furnish houses, and architects to build them - gigs, dog-carts, and glass-coaches enough to convey half the free-holders of Middlesex to Brentford. Nay I despatched even royalty itself on an errand to a respectable widow, whose concourse of visitors, by my special invitation, choked up the great avenues of London, and found employment for half the police of the metropolis ... Copy the joke and it ceases to be one - any fool can imitate an example once set ; but for originality of thought and design, I do think that was perfect.
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