From William Ginty   Monday Night, (Jan. 30th, 1843)

110 Pitt St. Liverpool | Monday Night

My dear Tyndall

Now! by the merry peal of ‘Bob Major’¹ that thunders its loud echos from yonder tower of St. Nicholas,² this is too bad. By all the raven plumes, glossy ringlets, rosy cheeks, merry hearts, and laughing eyes that issue in babylonish confusion from the massive portals of its hallowed aisles, I like the quondam Cupid³ have been ‘treated foully’. God Forgive you Tyndall! what could have tempted you to such a cruel and heartless act – as to expose an unfortunate devil in such a public manner.

‘On leaving Westmoreland by W. Ginty’⁴ On my soul, your motives for this caper is so entirely incomprehensible and mysterious to me at present that I hardly know what to say or think. When I saw my name in the paper this morning, like Robinson Crusoe ‘I stood as one thunderstruck’.⁵ but faith we four have come to this unanimous conclusion that you are ‘rather insane’. Though I must say your damnest cunning letter⁶ to Jack⁷ did not savour much of insanity – Heavens how you have praised it! My composition. (I’ve been desired to ask you this question: Could you get no one to praise you but yourself?) However I have a good deal to write and I must cut this subject short. EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!! EXPLAIN!!! You want the paper back – as you got but two and one of them you sent where it will not be returned from. not to Kirkby, I hope? However Sinnet’s there. I need not say that I will contradict it very shortly – not through the paper tho! but faith I will contradict it – forgery – forgery! defamation! action! Law! Law! Law!

Apropos – it is undoubtedly the cleverest piece I have seen of yours. There are some of the finest expressions of ideas in it I have ever seen. What a damned fool you were to disgrace the piece by crowning it with my name! A thought has struck me, by heavens, to the very core. As I live, I have sat and read the ‘Preston Chronicle’ in the Wheat Sheaf Inn, KY Lonsdale⁸ – It is taken in there with some others, and She⁹ is there. This may be fine sport for you, but in good truth my disgust for the person drives any ambition which I might have to be thought the Author of such a very Gallant piece into air ‘thin air!’ Well! Well!

But enough. I suppose you expect something about the Temperance blow out:¹⁰—

That theme, dear Sir, I must decline

Yet faith I’m ever since admiring

Its happy traits, tis thine! tis thine!

Oh powers! were I but you or Byron,¹¹

I’d paint each worthy’s glowing hue

I’d wreak my thoughts in such expression

And give to each and give to you

The father of an Irish ‘dressin’¹²

— being such an utter stranger to the Dramatis personæ¹³ it would be a task for which, I confess, I am alas too conscious that I would be most infernally inadequate!

A trifling circumstance took place in the office last Friday night and has been on the tapis¹⁴ up to this evening, which sheds a most discreditable halo over the Ordnance Confederacy at Liverpool. AN ATTEMPT at ROBBERY in the ORDNANCE SURVEY OFFICE. On Friday evening last, after the minions of the Survey had retreated to their homes, the desk of Corpl. Lyndall¹⁵ (only a letter) who has the payment of the department, was very curiously forced open with the poker. But very fortunate for him he had removed some 20 pounds to another chest or press in the forenoon and so the villain was disappointed. Of course it was reported to Hamley on his arrival next evening and he kicked a queer shine about it – had the opinion of a policeman on the spot and held a regular Court Martial on a Mr Finnican¹⁶ who, poor fellow, was so unfortunate as to go to the office that evening for a newspaper he forgot in his drawer up stairs. It was proved he was not there 5 minutes – However after examinations, cross examinations, and cross- cross- examinations, nothing would do our gallant commander but to have two constables sent for to day to escort the poor young fellow before the Major¹⁷ (luckily no constables could attend to make a public exposure).¹⁸ However the magistrates laughed at the grounds of suspicion, and said there was more grounds for suspecting the messenger and his wife and their lodgers and visitors!!! I can say nothing as to the probable result – but this I can say. I wish to heavens I was out of this. Finnican is a general favourite.

Being in a roving humour on last Wednesday evening, I resolved to mingle for a few minutes among the Beaus¹⁹ and fashion of Liverpool and so adjourned to Lord Street. I was not there long when I took a most hearty fit of laughing on meeting Mr D. Dempsey²⁰ promenading thro’ the midst of a sabaoth²¹ of angels, with a cigar stuck in his face while the iron-shackled foot acted the part of a pair of cymbals on the devoted pavement which seemed conscious of the load of consequential dust that it was doomed to sustain.

Tell George, Bill²² got two letters, one from him and one from home. Direct to the office as the Mails are delivered during office hours. Excuse this Jack – I’ll send you a better one next ‘time’.

(How the devil is Mr Marquis’s if not his name it should be his title.) Give my respects to all the Milesians²³

Yours &c | Ginty | A Patlander²⁴

Dick²⁵ and I are fairly incorporated among the draftsmen. We are plotting a plan each, also Taylor – all are in one room. Kennedy²⁶ seems to be a very nice gentlemanly fellow. They have another office taken, this one is not large enough and so those that are to be employed at the town are to be all in one house.

Write soon.

Evans owes me a letter. Kennedy is a Protestant. I heard he was a papist. There are 11 protestants in our room – 3 of which are Orangemen²⁷ – without one black sheep – that same is a trifling consolation. Send me a copy of that last piece of yours in the Sentinel.²⁸

Mr. Tidmarsh was here yesterday, he expressed his sorrow that Preston was so far out of his way as to prevent him from going to see you.

RI MS JT 1/11/3591

LT Transcript Only