n^'^ "-It / h T'^% ♦ i rv .* Stifata, SS'ciD fnvk BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1691 Cornell University Library PR 5621.Y4 1899 The memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplus 3 1924 013 562 685 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013562685 THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION THE WORKS OF WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY WITH BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTIONS BY HIS DAUGHTER, ANNE RITCHIE IN THIRTEEN VOLUMES Volume III. THE MEMOIRS OF MR. CHARLES J. YELLOWPLUSH THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND, Etc '^^J^s^yiZ-Ti'riiia. 'I fJui'C THE MEMOIRS OF MR. CHARLES J. YELLOWPLUSH THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND COX'S DIARY, Etc. WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK AND A PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS NEW YORK AND LONDON 1899 viii CONTENTS CHAP. PAOB X. OF Sam's private affairs, and of the firm OF BROUGH AND HOFF ..... 75 XI. IN WHICH IT APPEARS THAT A MAN MAY POSSESS A DIAMOND, AND YET BE VERY HARD PRESSED FOR A DINNER 86 XII. IN WHICH THE HERo's AUNT's DIAMOND MAKES ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE HERO's UNCLE . 95 XIII. IN WHICH IT IS SHOWN THAT A GOOD WIFE IS THE BEST DIAMOND A MAN CAN WEAR IN HIS BOSOM ....... 106 THE TEEMENDOUS ADVENTURES OF MAJOR GAHAGAN I. " TRUTH IS STRANGE, STRANGER THAN FICTION " II. ALLYGHUR AND LASWAREE .... III. A PEEP INTO SPAIN — ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGIN AND SERVICES OF THE AHMEDNDGGAR IRREGULARS IV. THE INDIAN CAMP THE SORTIE FROM THE FORT V. THE ISSUE OF MY INTERVIEW WITH MY WIFE VI. FAMINE IN THE GARRISON VII. THE ESCAPE ...... VIII. THE CAPTIVE . ... IX. SURPRISE OF FUTTYGHUR 119 131 140 153 161 165 171 174 180 COX'S DIARY JANUARY THE ANNOUNCEMENT FEBRUARY FIRST ROUT .... MARCH A DAY WITH THE SURREY HOUNDS APRIL — THE FINISHING TOUCH , 189 193 197 201 CONTENTS MAY — A NEW DEOP-SCENE AT THE OPEEA JUNE — STRIKING A BALANCE .... JULY — DOWN AT BEULAH .... AUGUST — A TOUENAMENT .... SEPTEMBEE OVEE-BOAEDED AND UNDEE-LODGED OOTOBEE — NOTICE TO QUIT .... NOVEMBEE — LAW LIFE ASSUEANCE . DECEMBEE — FAMILY BUSTLE .... PASE 205 209 213 217 221 225 229 233 THE MEMOIRS OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH MISS shum's husband ....... 237 THE AMOUES OF ME. DEUCEACE : — DIMOND CUT DIMOND FOEING PAETS . 256 270 ME. DEUCEACE AT PAEIS : OHAP. I. THE TWO BUNDLES OF HAY n. "honoue thy fathee" III. minewveing . IV. "hitting the nale on the V. THE GEIFFIN's CLAWS VI. THE JEWEL . VII. THE CONSQUINSIES . VIII. THE END OF ME. DEUOEACe's IX. THE MAEEIAGE X. THE HONEYMOON . ME. YELLOWPLUSH's AJEW skimmings feom "the daiey of GEOEGE IV." EPISTLES TO THE HTEEATI 284 290 HEDD " 297 300 304 . 311 HISTOEY LIMBO 315 . 329 331 . 338 E IV." 348 360 CONTENTS THE DIARY OF C. JEAMES DE LA PLUCHE, ESQ., WITH HIS LETTERS A LUCKY SPECULATOR THE DIARY .... JEAMES ON TIME BARGINGS JEAMES ON THE GAUGE QUESTION MR. JEAMES AGAIN . PAQX 381 387 424 426 429 A LEGEND OF THE RHINE CHAP. I. SIB LUDWIG OP HOMBOURG . XL THE GODESBERGEES III. THE FESTIVAL, IV. THE PLIGHT .... V. THE traitor's DOOM VI. THE CONFESSION . VII. THE SENTENCE VIII. THE CHILDE OF GODESBERG . IX. THE LADY OF WINDECK X. THE BATTLE OP THE BOWMEN XI. THE MARTYR OF LOVE . XII. THE CHAMPION XIII. THE MARRIAGE 435 439 444 446 448 452 455 457 465 471 476 482 488 CHARACTER SKETCHES CAPTAIN ROOK AND MR. PIGEON THE FASHIONABLE AUTHORESS . . . . THE ARTISTS 495 511 523 COISTTENTS XI THE FATAL BOOTS JANUARY — THE BIETH OF THE YEAR FEBRUARY CUTTING WEATHER MARCH— SHOWERY . , . . APRIL — FOOLING .... MAY RESTORATION DAY . JUNE — MARROWBONES AND CLEAVEES JULY SUMMARY PROCEEDINGS AUGUST DOGS HAVE THEIR DAYS . SEPTEMBER PLUCKING A GOOSE OCTOBER — MARS AND VENUS IN OPPOSITION NOVEMBER — A GENERAL POST DELIVERY . DECEMBER "THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT fAQE 541 545 549 553 557 561 565 569 573 577 581 585 THE BEDFOED-ROW CONSPIRACY CHAP. I. OF THE LOVES OF MR. PERKINS AND MISS GORGON, AND OF THE TWO GREAT FACTIONS IN THE TOWN OF OLDBOEOUGH . . . . .591 II. SHOWS HOW THE PLOT BEGAN TO THICKEN IN OR ABOUT BEDFORD ROW ..... 607 III. BEHIND THE SCENES . . . . . .619 GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED 633 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS POETEAIT OF W. M. THACKEEAY, 1832 Frontispiece PASE BLUE PEOCKCOAT . XVi THACKEEAY AT HAEE COURT, TEMPLE .... Xvii BUCKSTONE xviii KING .......... xviii MEGEEEDY ......... xix LOED CHANCELLOE . XXVii PEEPING LADY Xxix GAKEICK CLUB HEADS ....... XXxii DOMESTIC DEEAMS ....... XXxiii ATELIEE ......... XXxiv DE LA PLUCHE. M. A. TITMAESH. MAJOE GAHAGAN . XXxix COX'S DIARY JANUAEY^THE ANNOUNCEMENT FEBEUAEY — FIEST EOUT MARCH A DAY WITH THE SUEEEY HOUNDS APEIL THE FINISHING TOUCH MAY A NEW DEOP-SCENE AT THE OPEEA JUNE — STEIKING A BALANCE. To face page 190 194 198 306 210 xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS JULY — DOWN AT BEULAH . . . To face page 214 ATTGUST — A TOURNAMENT .... „ 318 SEPTEMBER — OVER-BOARDED AND UNDER-LODGED „ 222 OCTOBER NOTICE TO QUIT . . . . „ 326 NOVEMBER LAW LIFE ASSURANCE . . „ 330 DECEMBER — CHRISTMAS BUSTLE ... „ 332 THE FATAL BOOTS JANUARY THE BIRTH OF THE YEAR FEBRUARY CUTTING WEATHER MARCH SHOWERY APRIL FOOLING .... MAY RESTORATION DAY JUNE — MARROWBONES AND CLEAVERS JULY SUMMARY PROCEEDINGS AUGUST — DOGS HAVE THEIR DAYS . SEPTEMBER — PLUCKING A GOOSE . OCTOBER MARS AND VENUS IN OPPOSITION NOVEMBER A GENERAL POST DELIVERY DECEMBER "THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT 542 546 550 554 558 563 566 670 574 578 582 586 INTRODUCTION TO YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS AND HOGGAETY DIAMOND, etc. 1831—1837 The early years which my father spent in London, looking about him, trying his 'prentice hand on life, coming and going with his friends, were those in which he saw most of Edward FitzGerald, Charles and Arthur Buller, of John and Henry Kemble, all of whom seem to have been his playfellows. Al- fred and Frederick Tennyson, and John Allen, are also among those who are constantly mentioned in the notes and the letters of that time. These young knights of the Mahogany Tree used to meet and play and work together, or sit over their brandy-and-water discussing men and books and morals, speculating, joking, and contradicting each other — liking fun and talk and wit and hu- man nature, and all fanciful and noble things. Alfred Tenny- son was already the poet laureate of this little court, which was roaming about London, with so much vigour and cheerful mirth. They all went their own ways. They heartily admired each other (and no wonder), and they encouraged the minor graces as well as the major virtues. Among other things they seem to have greatly admired a blue frockcoat of FitzG-erald's, of Xvi YELLOWl'LtfSa PAfERS which he himself has written more than once in his letters. " It looks delightful in church," he says. I have a letter addressed to Edward FitzGerald, Esq., at Mrs. Perry's, Trumpington Street, Cambridge, and docketed "first letter from W. M. T. after my departure from London in November 1831." " I don't think my rooms will ever appear comfortable again," says the letter. " Here are your things lying in the exact place you left them. . . . The Kembles have called ; J. yesterday, Henry to-day — he is a dear fellow, and we talk about nothing but you and the theatre. . . ." Then again : " John Kemble stayed with me till five o'clock, when we set forth on a walk; we went round the Eegent's Park, and he had the talk to himself. It was agreeable enough : about his Spanish adventures, and his friend General Torrijo's exploits. He has asked me to his house. . . . Mrs. Kemble has returned, leaving her daughter at Paris." This was at the time my father sat every day in Mr. Taprell's office perched on a high stool, drawing up legal docu- ments. Mr. Taprell was a special pleader and conveyancer, and it would be curious to come across a legal document in his pupil's handwriting. Almost a year before this time my grandparents and my father had come to the conclusion that he should go to the bar. He himself was anxious to begin work. Writing to his mother from Germany, January 25, 1831, he says: "I do believe, mother, that it is not merely an appetite for novelty which prompts me, but really a desire to enter a profession and do my duty in it. I am nearly twenty years old — at that time my father had been for five years engaged on his. I am fully aware how difficult and disagreeable my task must be for the first four years, but I have an end in view and an independence to gain ; and if I can steadily keep this before me, I shall not, I trust, flinch from the pursuit of them." By the autumn of that year the young student was established in the Temple. BLUE FROOKOOAT. INTRODUCTION XVll He sent Mr. FitzGerald a picture of himself, and of his stool and of No. 1 Hare Court, Temple, and one of the lamp-post and the railings outside. The drawing given here is from a letter home. " W. M. T. to Major Carmichael-Smyth. ''December 1831. " I go pretty regularly to my pleader's, and sit with him till past five ; then I come home and read and dine till about nine or THACKERAY AT HARE COURT, TEMPLE. past, when I am glad enough to go out for an hour and look at the world. As for the theatre, I scarcely go there more than once a weet, which is moderate indeed for me. In a few days come the Pantomimes ! Huzza ! " I have been to Cambridge, where I stayed four days feasting on my old friends, so hearty and hospitable. ... I could have stayed there a month and fed on each. Xvlii YELLOWPLtJSa PAPERS " I find this w.ork really very pleasant : one's day is agreeably occupied; there is a newspaper and a fire and just enough to do. Mr. Taprell has plenty of business, and I should think would be glad of another assistant, whom I hope to provide for him, in my friend Kemble, with whom I am very thick. ... I have been employed on a long pedigree case, and find myself BUCKSTONE. KINS. very tolerably amused, only it is diflBcult to read dry law-books and to attend to them. I sit at home a good deal, but proceed very slowly. I have to lay out nearly £5 to-day for these same ugly books." A diary which was written in the early part of 1832 brings INTEODUCTION XIX back very vividly the daily life of that time. It begins with a family record. " Monday, April 2, 1 832. — In the morning William Eitchie called — he has grown a very fine boy." Then comes a description of going to see Hay don's pictures: " Mr. Haydon, by dint of telling all the world he is a great painter, has made them believe it. The ' Mock Election ' is Qiiem (Mrs. Bulger). Hamlet! thou hast thy father much offended. Hamlet (Megreedy). Madam, thou has my father much offended. Queen. There's the least taste in life of linen hanging out behind. very forced and bad, ' Xenophon ' so so, and the rest of the pictures about as good as the ' Mock Election.' " "Went to see father and mother at Oovent Garden. The opera was the ' Barber of Seville.' Miss Inverarity sang charm- ingly, but has a mouth big enough to sing two songs at once. Wilson has one of the freshest voices I ever beard. Wrote XX YELLOWPLUSH PAPEES some verses for Charlotte Shakespeare, which are not quite fin- ished." "Sunday, April 29. — Breakfasted at Bullers', and met his brother (Arthur Buller), a very nice fellow, and very well read. Idled about all day till dinner-time, when A. Buller and King- lake dined with me at the Bedford. At night went canvassing for Percy and Reform ; it was a silly prank, but has shown me how easy it is to talk men over. ... I wish to God I could take advantage of my time and opportunities as C. Buller has done. It is very well to possess talents, but using them is better still. Just as I had written my criticism on Buller, enter D., who finds fault with him for the very things which I thought so creditable. He says he has not taken advantage of his opportunities. To be sure, as to advancement, society, and talent, he has had greater advantages than most men. Not the least of them that Carlyle was his tutor. " Went to Chambers. Dined in Hall ; afterwards Kemble and Hallam sat here for an hour. Read an article in Blackwood about A. Tennyson, abusing Hallam for his essay in the Ung- lishman. Read the Monthly, which is cleverer than any of the others, I think. Took a shilling's worth at the Strand Theatre to see the ' Judgment of Paris,' a poor thing enough." It was about this time that he went to see Macready in the " Merchant of London," " a good play, and admirably acted." The drawing here given belongs, perhaps, to a somewhat later date, but it is evidently a sketch of a young Macready, adapted to a jesting story by the youthful chronicler. It was in these very early days that my father made the ac- quaintance of Dr. Maginn, with whom he had further dealings.* * Mr. Blanohard Jerrold describes Father Prout in Paris, speaking to him of this time: "Without preface " — he was a man void of preface in speech (Mr. Jerrold writes), and like Siebenkas, advocate of the poor, he laid the egg of his act or deep saying, without any nest on the naked rock — " I in^ " troduced Thackeray to Maginn." — The Father laughed as the vision pass- ed before him. — " Thackeray was a young buck in those days, wanted to " make a figure in literature, la belle affaire ! So he thought he must help " himself to a magazine. It is an expensive toy. A magazine wanted an "editor; I recommended Billy Maginn." A burst of shaip laughter fol- lowed this. " It wasn't so easy to get hold of Master Maginn in those times. " However, I did get hold of him, and macje Thackeray's proposition th?B INTRODUCTION xxi The first mention of him is in the diary from which I have been quoting. "Wednesday, May 2, 1832. — Dr. Maginn called and took me to the Standard, showing me the mysteries of printing and writing leading articles. With him all day till four. Dined at the Sablonniere." Next day he dines with Dr. Maginn at the King's Head. " A dull party of low literary men." " Wrote yesterday to E. F. G. with a letter as from Herrick. Might have been made pretty, but was poor enough. How can a man know his own capabili- ties ? Not by reading, by which one acquires thoughts of others, and gives one's seK the credit of them. Bulwer has a high reputation for talent, and yet I always find myself competing with him." Then again, a little further on : " Maginn with me all the morning, one of the pleasantest I ever passed. Maginn read Homer to me, and he made me admire it as I had never done before ; moreover he made me make a vow to read some Homer every day, which vow I don't know whether I shall keep. His remarks were extraordinarily intelligent and beautiful, mingled with much learning, a great deal of wit, and no ordinary poet- ical feeling. . . . Told me concerning G.'s roguery, but he was not angry enough at it." (This last sentence is very character- istic of ray father.) Day by day he continues to chronicle the occupations and amusements of the moment: — " Walked out with Paget through Kensington Gardens, where we strolled about and lay on the grass. Lunched at the Black Lion at Bayswater. On returning home found half-a-dozen men comfortably settled in my rooms, to which were presently added as many more, and at last got rid of them and went to bed at eleven. All the morning at Buller's, drawing caricatures. Met Mrs. Austin there, a pretty, pleasant woman. Pound that C. B. and I did not at all agree about poetry." Elsewhere he writes : " and there. Before Billy Maginn could go into the matter he must have "fBOO " Of all this the writer knows nothing, but she gives the passage as it is printed, and she owes the quotation to the kindness of Mr. Loder of Wood- ■bridge. xxii YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS "C. B. is a clever fellow, at any rate, and makes money by magazine writing, in which I should much desire to follow his example." On another page he mentions that Kemble has been reading him some very beautiful verses of Tennyson's. The music was in the air — not only was the poet come, but those who had ears to hear. The diary continues : " Supped at the Bedford with D., who is to breakfast with me. I have never known what adversity is, or I should be able, perhaps, to understand his incomprehensi- ble recklessness and quiet, with things hanging over him which if discovered might leave him a beggar and an outcast. I do not love him now as in old times, and perhaps it is lucky for me, for my pocket at any rate !" Another day he is going about trying to find a market for his caricatures. A certain Mr. Gibbs says he can dispose of them for him. There is also another friend, a bookseller. " Had a talk with Mayer, who is quite a patriarch in his way. A fat old fellow in black tights and gaiters. He has promised to let me have his books at trade price." Here is another entry : " Buller and Curzon* dined with me at the Bedford. Curzon is the same noble little fellow he was at school, with all his old enthusiasm and no humbug. When 1 supposed him grown cool, it was I that was conceited, and not he ; meeting Curzon again has made me very happy." " Sunday, May 13. — Breakfasted with Edwards. Sat all the morning with Dobbs. To-day a bishop has been pulled out of his pulpit ; what may come to-morrow ? — perhaps a king may be pulled off his throne. This sounds very like clap-trap, but I fear it will be true." " Read law for about an hour. Went at eleven to Somerset Coffee House; met Dr. Maginn, whom I like for his wit and good feeling. Thence to Montagu Place to finish the pantomime trick for John Henry. Called at Kemble's, Du Pre's, and Patties', and dined at the Bedford. J. Kemble and Pearson here till late in the evening talking metaphysics, of which Pearson has read a good deal, and Kemble amazingly little. Walked in the Park with Mr. Dick and Kemble ; met the Duke looking like an old hero." * Hon. R. Curzon, author of "Curzon's Monasteries" — a Carthusian to begin with. INTRODUCTION xxiii It is at Dr. Maginn's that my father meets Mr. Giffard, a " very learned and pleasant man," and further on he writes : " Very much delighted with the goodness of Giffard."* At first there are constant mentions of Dr. Maginn, of his scholarship and kindness and brilliant talk ; then come others far less to the Doctor's credit. The reverse of the medal ap- pears : it is not the King's head any more that we see ; but the dragon, with its claws and ugly forked tongue turns up, and alas ! no St. George to the rescue. The story is a tragic one. How could it be otherwise with such brilliant gifts, such fatal instincts. Mrs. Oliphant, before she laid down her pen, that pen which was ever moved by lov- ing wit, told the history and quoted Lockhart's touching epi- taph, of which the last line sums up the spirit of the whole : " Many worse, better few, than bright, broken Maginn." The echoes, the common-sense, the daily sounds and sights of the early thirties, seem to reach one as one looks over these •letters and note-books of a date when even the early Victorian times were not, and William was King, when the heroes who had fought for England and her very existence were resting on their laurels atd turning their swords into scythes. There were domestic battles still to contest. The Reform Bill was being fought inch by inch — " that Catilinarian Reform Bill," as Coleridge calls it, writing at the time from Highgate Hill. In the little hall of my father's house in Young Street there used to be a print hanging over the chimney-piece which represented the passing of the Reform Bill. It was a well- known print by S. W. Reynolds. Lord John Russell, as a young man, is standing up with a very high collar to his coat. Lord Palmerston, and all the great men of the time, with curls and mutton-chop whiskers, are grouped round about in ingen- ious profiles and three-quarter faces. A gleam of light comes dazzling in from one of the windows overhead, and is falling straight upon the scroll of Liberty. " The Ministers, the Reform Bill, and the country gone to the devil," my father writes on May 9th. "Went to the House * Probably T. L. Giffard, editor of the Standard, and father of the present Lord Halsbury. — Diet. Nat. Biog. xxiv YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS of Commons and got in with Curzon's order. It will soon, I suppose, be a house of delegates. . . . Bought a big stick where- with to resist all parties in case of an attack." But after all there is no rising in London as he anticipates. " The Duke has been attacked in the streets," he says fur- ther on. " Bracy walked home with him ; the Duke shook his hand and thanked him. Bracy says he has lived four and twenty years, but never felt so happy as to-day. Bravo, Bracy ! I did not think you such a trump before." The Reform Bill played a part in my father's life as it did in that of his friends, and at this time he himself made his first appearance in the arena of politics. But he was never a keen politician. Pictures and plays form a much larger share of his early interests than either poli- tics or law cases. Only he sympathized warmly with his friends and companions, and never hesitated to utter his sympathies. It is impossible also not to feel even now how just were his in- stinctive provisions and criticisms. Any one reading the speech- es he made in 1858, when he was standing for the City of Ox- ford, might realise how many of the things which he advocated then have come about. I can still remember how people blamed him for some of the things he said, for wishing for the Ballot, for Universal Suffrage, and for all the changes that we are quite used to now, which have proved to be friendly ploughs making ready the land for the harvest of the future, rather than those catastrophes and cataclysms which were anticipated. " How deeply we all regret your dear father's dangerous views," I can remember various voices saying, with a quaver of disapproba- tion ; specially one dignified old lady, who, I believe, asked us to dinner solely on purpose to remonstrate with him. He used sometimes to speak of a happy expedition into Cornwall, when he went to Liskeard to help Charles Buller in his election in 1832. Long after, when the people of Liskeard sent to ask my father himself to stand as their representative, he was greatly tempted and amused by the suggestion, but he said he could not afEord it then. This happened before he had crossed the water to America. The £1000 which Oxford cost him in later days was, I think, all paid for in silver dollars. INTRODUCTION xxv The account of the Buller election is in his diary, and is cheerful reading. There is also a letter to his mother, dated from Polwellan, West Looe. "Jtme25, 1832. " Are you surprised, dear mother, at the direction ? Cer- tainly not more prepared for it than I was myself, but you must know that on Tuesday in last week I went to breakfast with Charles Buller, and he received a letter from his constituents at Liskeard requesting him immediately to come down ; he was too ill, but instead deputed Arthur Buller and myself — so ofE we set that same night by the mail, arrived at Plymouth the next day, and at Liskeard the day after, when we wrote addresses, canvassed farmers, and dined with attorneys. Then we came on to Mr. Buller's, and here I have been very happy since Fri- day. On Wednesday last I was riding for twelve hours' can- vassing — rather a feat for me ; and considering I have not been on horseback for eight months my stiffness yesterday was by no means surprising. But it is seven o'clock of a fine summer's morning, so I have no fatigue to complain of. I have been ly- ing awake this morning meditating on the wise and proper man- ner I shall employ my fortune on when I come of age, which, if I live so long, will take place in three weeks. . . . Charles Buller comes down at the end of next week : if you want me sooner I will come ; if not, I should like to wait for the Re- form rejoicings, which are to take place on his arrival, particu- larly as I have a great share in the canvassing." FEOM THE DIARY. "■June 20, 1832. — Breakfasted with Charles Buller. At eight o'clock we set off by the mail outside, crossed the water to Tor Point, and set off for Liskeard by the mail. Here our first act was a blunder — we went to the wrong Inn. This, how- ever, was soon remedied, our trunks were withdrawn, and our- selves breakfasted at Mr. Lyne's the attorney. " Most of the day was occupied in composing an address for Charles Buller, the one he sent down being considered unsatis- factory. Arthur's was fixed upon by us, it was good but wordy ; then we went to see two more attorneys to con over the address. XXVI YELLOWPLtJSH PAPERS and to drink tea, and at half-past ten we set off in pouring rain to Polwellan, where we arrived at twelve, and went gladly to bed." " Thursday, June 21.— Woke and forgot all my travelling troubles after a long sweet sleep, and found myself in a very charming house, in a pretty room, and with a pleasant family ; the servants all mistook me for Charles Buller. I was kindly received by Mr. and Mrs. Buller. The day has passed pleas- antly enough with a walk, and a lunch, and a ride, and a dinner, and a long talk afterwards about subjects of which none of the party knew anything. At dinner there was a gentleman re- markable for his name, Captain Toop Nicholas. The house is very pleasant, the master of it most kind-hearted and honest, and the mistress a very charming woman, an ancient flame of my father's. We rode to Morvel, an Elizabethan house with some noble woods. On Wednesday rode with A. Buller twelve miles canvassing, and found much more good feeling and in- telligence among the farmers than I had expected. There seems to be a class of farmers here unknown to our part of Devonshire, men of tolerable education, though not of a large property, not unlike the Scotch farmer." Elsewhere my father describes his host, " as he sits at table surrounded by his family portraits, a fine specimen of a kind al- most gone out now." Here is a pleasant page of life. " After a merry day at Tem- plars we set off in his cart to Newton, where we waited till 8.30 for the mail. At about one we reached Plymouth, and on Mon- day, 9th, arrived by mail at ten o'clock at Liskeard, and found all the town in an uproar, with flags, processions, and triumphal arches, to celebrate Charles Buller's arrival. Rode out to meet him, and had the honour, with some half-a-dozen others, to be dragged in with him. The guns were fired, the people shouted and pulled us through all parts of the town. C. Buller made a good speech enough, then we adjourned to Mrs. Austin's to lunch, and then to submit again to be pulled about for the pleasure of the constituents. This business lasted from twelve till four, during which I was three times gratified by hearing my song about Jope sung to a tune, I suppose by some of the choristers. . . . Arrived at Polwellan at six, and was glad to see it again, for they certainly have been very kind." n ft^^^' xxviii YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS The notes of electioneering alternate with the books which he is reading, the people he is talking to, and the places he visits. He reads " Wallensteiu " in the morning, rides in the afternoon, talks to the young ladies in the evening, and draws pictures. He meets Sir William Molesworth, who is standing for the county, and with whom he always kept up a friendship in after life, and who is here described as a " sensible fellow." Electors go on dragging carriages and feasting in gardens, can- didates make speeches, and when it pours with rain they all ad- journ together to the Town Hall. Dances as well as tea drink- ings are given in the cause of Liberal politics. One lady ap- pears upon the scene, by whom at first he seems to be rather fascinated. But she — counting, perhaps, too much upon a young man's powers of attention — spares him no detail of com- plicated domestic history, and on Saturday, July 11, he notes, " A blank chiefly occupied by Mrs. 's voluminous conver- sation." Politicians appear to have been cheerful, young, and gay in those days, with much less of Guy Fawkes about them than there is now. On the 18th July 1832 he writes : " Here is the day for which I have been panting so long." He was now of age and his own master. II. I have heard that the man who followed my father at Mr. Taprell's chambers found the desk full of sketches and carica- tures, which he had left behind him.* It was quite evident that though he was amused by the work at first, his real place was not in Hare Court; his gifts lay in other directions, and the visions here depicted were never to be realised, although my father was actually called to the Bar in 1 848. In May of 1832 he had written : " This lawyer's preparatory education is certainly one of the most cold-blooded, prejudiced pieces of invention that ever a man was slave to. ... A fellow * Mr. Reginald Smith tells me that the successor to my father's place, who rose to be a dignitary of the law, unwarily showed his trouvaille to the Special Pleader, who confiscated the sketches. INTRODUCTION xxix should properly do and think of nothing else than Law. Never mind. I begin to find out that people are much wiser than I am (which is a rare piece of modesty in me), and that old heads do better than young ones, that is in their generation, for I am sure that a young man's ideas, however absurd and rhapsodical PEEPING LADT. they are, though they mayn't smack so much of experience as those of these old calculating codgers, contain a great deal more nature and virtue. Here are hot weather and green trees again, dear mother, but the sun won't shine into Taprell's chamber, and the high stools don't blossom and bring forth buds. matutini roses aura que salubres! I do long so for fresh air and fresh butter, only it isn't romantic." His deliverance followed close upon this, for he seems to have gone straight from Cornwall to France, stopping at Havre, sketch- ing by the way, and reaching Paris before the end of August. XXX YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS At Paris my father immediately subscribed to a reading-room m the Palais Royal, with quiet rooms and a pleasant look-out. He seems to have set to work at once, sent for a master, and begun to study French literature, lie came in for the rise of the romantic school, and he makes his own criticism upon it " In the time of Voltaire," he says, " the heroes of poetry and drama were fine gentlemen ; in the days of Victor Hugo they bluster about in velvet and mustachios and gold chains, but they seem in nowise more poetical than their rigid predecessors. " I read to-day a novel of Balzac's called the Peau de Chagrin, which possesses many of the faults and many of the beauties of the school. Plenty of light and shade, good colouring and cos- tumes, but no character." , He also reads in Gibbon and studies old Montaigne, and is absorbed by Cousin's " History of Philosophy." " The excite- ment of metaphysics must equal almost that of gambling," he says. Besides reading books of every sort and size he goes to the Louvre, to the BibliothSque Royale, looking over the en- gravings and copying some of them, and very constantly indeed he is at the theatre, where he sees most of the actors, and young Mdlle. Mars " playing deliciously in a pretty piece called Valerie,'" and Mdlle. D6jazet at the Palais Royal in a piece called Napo- leon a Brienne — Napoleon was apparently as much in fashion then as now. — At Franconi's they have also a representation of the Emperor and all his army. Here is a very striking comment upon a contemporary event: — Paris, August 8, 1832. " I read the other day in the papers — Hier S.M. a envoy e complimenter V Ambassadeur de I'Autriche sur la mori du Due de Reichstadt. It is as fine a text for a sermon as any in the Bible — this poor young man dying, as many say, of poison, and L. P. presenting his compliments on the occasion. Oh, Genius, Glory, Ambition; — what ought you to learn from this ? and what might I not teach, only I am hungry and going — ^to breakfast !" It was in January 1833 that Major Carmichael-Srayth became associated with the National Standard and Journal of Litera- ture, Science, Music, and the Fine Arts — I have do doubt, partly INTRODUCTION xxxi with a view to give my father an opening in literature, and also to retrieve some heavy losses which had fallen upon them both about this time ; — an Indian bank had f ailed^ English money was mismanaged, and retrenchment became absolutely neces- sary. The following letters will show that he was working very steadily at journalism for some time besides thinking of painting as a profession. The first is written in London to her mother at Porchester Terrace, Bayswater : — " I have been wanting very much to see you, dearest mother, but this paper has kept me so busily at work, that I really and truly had no time. " I have made a woodcut for it of Louis Philippe, which is pretty good ; but have only written nonsense, in the shape of reviews. The paper comes out to-morrow afternoon, and then I will come up to you with a copy thereof. I have been obliged to put off the play and everything else, having actually done nothing except work the paper. I send a boy with this, for I thought you would be glad to know what my proceedings are. God bless yon, dearest mother ! I send you a couple of maga- zines I have received in my new capacity." The next letter comes from France again : — Paris, July 6, 1833. " It looks well to have a Parisian correspondent, and I think that in a month more I may get together stuff enough for the next six months. I have been thinking very seriously of turn- ing artist ; I think I can draw better than do anything else, and certainly like it better than any other occupation ; why shouldn't I ? It requires a three years' apprenticeship, however, which is not agreeable, and afterwards the way is clear and pleasant enough. An artist in this town is by far a more distinguished person than a lawyer, and a great deal more so than a clergyman." It will be seen that there were different views then about art, to those we hold now ; parents have to be convinced by the rising generations in turn. During these two or three years my father seems to have XXXll YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS come and gone constantly from Paris to London, probably on account of his work for the newspapers. He writes from the Garrick Club, on September 6, 1833 : " I am wanting very much to leave this dismal city, dear mother, but I must stay for some time longer, being occupied in writ- ing, puffing, (fcc, and other delightful employments for the Standard. I have had an ofEer made for a partner, which I think I shall accept, but the business cannot be settled for a week or ten days. In the meantime I get on as well as I can, spending ray mornings in St. Paul's Churchyard, and my even- ings in this Club, which is a pleasant and cheap place of resort. We have, thanks to me and some other individuals, established a smoking-room, another great comfort. I am writing on a fine, frosty day, which, considering this is the height of the summer, or ought to be, is the more to be appreciated. I find a great change between this and Paris, where one makes friends ; here, though for the last three years I have lived, I have not positively a single female acquaintance. I shall go back to Paris, 1 think, and marry somebody. There is another evil which I complain of, that this system of newspaper writing spoils one for every other kind of writing. I am unwilling, now more than ever, to write letters to my friends, and always find Mr. Poole, Don' Telesforo de Touche. Jambs Smith, Author of " Paul Pry." ' ' Rejected Addresses." 6ABRICK CLTJB HEADS. myself attempting to make a pert, critical point at the end of a sentence. I have just had occasion to bid adieu to Regulus • he has been breaking bottles of wine and abstracting liquors therefrom, and this after I had given him a coat, a hat, and a INTRODUCTION xxxiu half-crown to go to Bartholomew Fair. He lied stoutly, wept much, and contradicted himself more than once, so I have been obliged to give him his conge, and am now clerkless. This is, DOMESTIC DREAMS. I think, the only adventure which has occurred to me. I have been talking of going out of town, but les affaires I — as for the theatres, they are tedious beyond all bearing, and a solitary evening in chambers is more dismal still. One has no resource but the Club, where, however, there is a tolerably good library of reviews and a pleasant enough society — of artists of all kinds, and gentlemen who drop their absurd English aristocratical no- tions. You see by this what I am thinking of — I wish we were all in a snug apartment in the Rue de Provence. FitzGerald has been in town for a day or two, and I have plenty of his acquaint- ances. There are a number of litterateurs who frequent this Club, and the National Standard is, I am happy to say, grow- ing into repute, though I know it is poor stuff. " A friend of mine, just come from the country, says he shot xxxiv YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS ten brace on the 1 st of September ; may father have had as good sport. There are lots of partridges here for four shillings a pair. These are some of the characters of the Club ; Smith is very like." In October he is back in Paris again, and writes to his mother : " I want now to settle, to marry, and then to live in the little house in Albion Street, going to church regularly, ris- ing early, and walking in the Park with Mrs. T. " Then what interesting letters I could write you about Billy's progress in cutting his teeth, and Johnny's improvement in spell- ing I As it is, I have nothing earthly to talk about except my- self — and I am tired of filling my letters with I's. " I spend all day now at the Atelier, and am very well satis- fied with the progress I make. I think that in a year, were I to work hard, I might paint something worth looking at. The other men at the Atelier are merry fellows enough, always sing- ing, smoking, fencing, and painting very industriously besides. Most of them have skill in painting, but no hand for drawing. Little Le Portein himself is a wonderful fellow. I never knew so young a man paint so well and so rapidly. . . . The artists, with their wild ways and their poverty, are the happiest fellows in the world. I wish you could see the scene every day in the Atelier. Yesterday we had a breakfast for five, consisting of five sausages, three loaves, and a bottle of wine, for fifteen sous. Afterwards pipes succeeded, and then songs, imitations of all the singers in Paris." It is well known that the Literary Standard did not fly for very long. After it was hauled down my father returned to Paris, and resumed his painting. He has left us one or two sketches of his student life. " W. M. T. to Mrs. Carmichael-Smtth. " Garrick CLnB, December 1833. " I fear, the Xs. pudding must be eaten without me, as my assistant, Hume, has gone into the country, and left me to do all the work. Now I am anxious that the first number for the year should be a particularly good one, and I am going to change the name to the Literary Standard, and increase the price to 3d., with which alteration I hope to do better. I am INTRODUCTION xxxv sure we shall be as merry in the new house as possible. I be- lieve I ought to thank Heaven for making me poor — it has made me much happier than I should have been with the money. But this is a selfish wish, for I shall now have to palm myself on you and my father just at the time when I ought to be inde- pendent." At this time he was working with Brine, who was a well- known artist of the dashing, impressionist school. There is one scene from the Atelier in his note-book which might have been quoted by Mr. du Maurier in his " History of Trilby " : about a girl who would not pose, but instead sang songs and cut capers ; and this is followed by a description of the artist at the head of the studio, " a venerable man with a riband of honour, an excellent man I am told, a good father of a family — but superior to all the rest by the extreme bathos of his blackguardisms. ... It is no wonder that the French are such poor painters with all this." On June 11 he writes: "Tuesday the Louvre opened, and I made on that day, and Wednesday, a little copy of Watteau and of another picture. ... It is very pleasant and calm to the eye xxxvi YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS to see the old pictures after the flaring gaudy exhibitions, which shut up in January. I have been looking with much delight at the Paul Veronese, and at some bits of Rubens's. The Raphaels do not strike me more than they did before." On another day he notes at the Bibliotheque du Roi: "Copied and admired Lucas van Leyden, a better man, I think, than Albert Dtirer, and mayhap as great a composer as Raphael himself." He had been living with his grandmother, Mrs. Butler, most of this time, and with various old ladies, her friends and ac- quaintances. It is impossible not to be struck by my father's patience and dutifulness, and by the way in which he bore with trying tempers and with the infirmities of age and disposition, but it can be imagined that this was not a very congenial at- mosphere; domestic nerves and squabbles were always in the air, and he often thinks with envy of a quiet garret or a silent cell to himself. Finally he seems to have accomplished his am- bition. " This is our last day at Chaillot," he writes, " and I am sor- ry to leave this most beautiful view, though I shall be happy enough in my little den in the Rue des Beaux Arts, where I in- tend to work hard, and lead a most pious, sober, and godly life ;" and so the journal ends. A great many blank leaves fol- low, and a few more accounts, and a new page is turned over. III. My father has sometimes told me that he lost his heart to ray mother when he heard her sing ; she had a very sweet voice and an exquisite method. He was twenty-five when he married, in 1836, and I have lately read the register, copied verbatim from the records of the French Embassy at Paris, as quoted by Messrs. Merivale & Mar- zials. My mother was Isabella Gethen Creagh Shawe, daughter of Colonel Matthew Shawe; her mother was a Creagh. Another important event happened to my father in 1836: a second newspaper was started, in which he and his stepfather were very much concerned. Major Carmichael- Smyth was chairman of a company formed to publish the Constitutional, an ultra-Liberal newspaper, that was to have the support of INTEODUCTION xxxvii Charles Buller, Sir William Molesworth, and the Radical party. By Major Carmichael-Smyth's interest my father, who had a great many shares in the undertaking, was appointed Paris cor- respondent, at a salary of £400 a year. It was upon this ap- pointment that he married. He had met my mother at his grandmother's — there had been ancient Indian relations between the families. A recent book of pictures by Mr. Eyre Crowe, R.A., gives a charming sketch of the Rue St. Augustin as it was in 1836, when my father and my mother lived in that quarter. The New Street of the Little Fields was close by with that Restaurant so famed for its Bouille-a-haisse. In this same book are to be found many more of an old friend's remembrances and sketches. One is of the house in London in which my parents settled down in 1837, in Great Coram Street, out of Brunswick Square. The Yellowplush correspondence — one of the earliest of the author's contributions to literature — must have been written in Great Coram Street. It appeared in Fraser's Magazine in 1837. It is the first of his writings that was ever published as a book, having been brought out, not in England, but in America, in 1838, by Messrs. E. L. Carey and L. A. Hart, of Philadelphia.* The book was not republished in England until 1841 by Hugh Cunningbam. I hardly know — nor if I knew, should I care to give here — the names and the details of the events which suggested some of the Yellowplush papers. The history of Mr. Deuceace was written from life during a very early period of my father's car reer. Nor can one wonder that his views were somewhat grim at that particular time, and still bore the impress of an expe- rience lately and very dearly bought. He was naturally trustful, and even enthusiastic, about peo- ple who were kind to him ; but, as it seems scarcely necessary to say, the author of " Vanity Fair " had a great deal of com- mon-sense, and a very rapid perception of facts when they final- ly shaped themselves. As a boy he had lost money at cards to some card-sharpers who scraped acquaintance with him. He has told us that they * Mr. W. H. Lambert, of Philadelphia, has kindly sent a copy of this pretty old-fashioned volume, xxxviii YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS came and took lodgings opposite to his, on purpose to get hold of him. He never blinked at the truth, or spared himself ; but neither did he blind himself as to the real characters of the people in question, when once he had discovered them. His villains became curious studies in human nature; he turned them over in his mind, and he caused Deuceace, Barry Lyndon, and Ikey Solomons, Esq., to pay back some of their ill-gotten spoils, in an involuntary but very legitimate fashion, vphen he put them into print and made them the heroes of those grim early histories. " Major Gahagan " burst into life, boots and all, in ColhumUs New Monthly Magazine for 1838. In a frontispiece to " Comic Tales and Sketches " are to be found the three portraits of Ma- jor Gahagan, De la Pluche, and Michael Angelo Titmarsh, arm in arm — " They are supposed to be marching hand in hand on the very brink of immortality," says Mr. Titmarsh in his intro- duction. Yellowplush, that bird of rare plume, also belongs to this same early burst of fun and spring-time. Yellowplush contin- ued his literary efforts for some years ; but as he went up in the world, he became Jeames de la Pluche, Esq. The longest lived of the three was Michael Angelo Titmarsh, a life-long companion. We know that Haroun al Raschid used to like to wander about the streets of Bagdad in various disguises, and in the same way did the author of " Vanity Fair " — although he was not a Calif — enjoy putting on his various dominos and charac- ters. Kone of these are more familiar than that figure we all know so well, called Michael Angelo Titmarsh. No doubt my father first made this artist's acquaintance at one of the studios in Paris. Very soon Mr. Titmarsh's criticisms began to appear in various papers and magazines. He visited the salons as well as the exhibitions over here, he drew most of the Christmas books, and wrote them too. He had a varied career. One could almost write his life. For a time, as we know, he was an assistant master at Dr. Birch's Academy. . . . He was first cous- in to Samuel Titmarsh of the great " Hoggarty Diamond " ; also he painted in water-colours. ... To the kingdom of Heaven he assuredly belongs ! kindly, humorous, delightful little friend ; INTRODUCTION XXXIX DB LA FLUCHE. U. A. TITMABSH. MAJOR OABAOAK. xl YELLOWPL0SH PAPERS droll shadow behind which my father loved to shelter himself. In Mr. Barrie's life of his mother he tells us how she wonders that he should always write as if he were some one not him- self. Sensitive people are glad of a disguise, and of a familiar who will speak their thoughts for them. . . . From time to time my father returned from Coram Street to Paris for short visits on business or amusement. It was in Paris in 1838 that he wrote the following letter to my mother, part of which I cannot help copying out : — "... Here have we been two years married and not a sin- gle unhappy day. Oh, I do bless God for all this happiness which He has given me. It is so great that I almost tremble for the future, except that I humbly hope (for what man is cer- tain about his own weakness and wickedness) our love is strong enough to withstand any pressure from without, and as it is a gift greater than any fortune, is likewise one superior to pov- erty or sickness, or any other worldly evil with which Provi- dence may visit us. Let us pray, as I trust there is no harm, that none of these may come upon us ; as the best and wisest Man in the world prayed that he might not be led into tempta: tion. ... I think happiness is as good as prayers, and I feel in my heart a kind of overflowing thanksgiving which is quite too great to describe in writing. This kind of happiness is like a fine picture, you only see a little bit of it when you are close to the canvas, go a little distance and then you see how beautiful it is. I don't know that I. shall have done much by coming away, except being so awfully glad to come back again. " How shall I fill this page — I think by Mr. O. R.'s hackney coach adventure. He had been to a theatre on the Boulevards, and was coming home with a lady. It was midnight, no lamps on the Boulevards, no hackney coaches, and pouring cats and dogs. At last a man came to him and asked if he wanted a coach. Yes, says the cheerful correspondent of the Times, and in he jumped, he and his fair lady. Well, two men got on the box, and when after half-an-hour O. R. ventured to open one of the windows, he found they w^ere driving Heaven knows where tearing madly down solitary streets between walls. The more he cried out, the more the man would not stop ; and he pulled INTROJDUCTION xU out a penknife, and folding his arm round the waist of Mrs. 0. R., determined to sell his life at a considerable expense. At this instant, bonheur I — Providence sent a man into that very street, which before or since was never known to echo with a mortal footstep. Swift as lightning, the young correspondent burst open the door of the coach, and bidding the lady follow,' sprang out. They landed in safety. Down came one of the ruffians from the box, when O. R. with gigantic force seized his arm, uplifted no doubt to murder the gentleman of the press. He held him writhing in his iron grip until the stranger ar- rived, whom seeing, t'other chap on the box flogged his horses and galloped away in the darkness and ' solitude. The poor wretch, the companion of his guilt, now sunk on his knees, when the stranger, looking at him fixedly and fiercely, drew from beneath his cloak a . . . This is all. God bless you, dearest wife." "Paris, March 20, 1838. " There is a chance of £350 a year here. Poor B. is dying, and his place is worth as much ; but then I throw away a very good position in London, where I can make as much, and a little fame into the bargain. My game, as far as I can see it, is to stick to the Times. 1 have just come from seeing ' Marion Delorme,' the tragedy of Victor Hugo, and am so sickened and disgusted with the horrid piece that I have hardly heart to write. The last act ends with an execution, and you are kept a long hour listening to the agonies of parting lovers and grim speculations about head-chopping, dead bodies, coffins, and what not — I am as sick as if I had taken an emetic. " I have been writing all day, and finished and despatched an article for the Times. My next visit will be to the Spanish pict- ures, the next to Versailles, and on Monday next, please God, I will be home. . . .'To-day I have been to Versailles, and afterwards to the opera — it was a benefit, and all sorts of oddities from all sorts of theatres were played — everything intolerably tedious, ex- cept an act from a very old opera, ' Orpheus,' by Gluck, which was neither more nor less than sublime. Dupre is the most de- lightful tenor I ever heard, with a simplicity of voice and method qnite delicious, as good as Rubini, without his faults, singing his notes steadily with no trick or catches or quavers and such xlii YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS music ; like very fine Mozart, so simple and melodious, that by all the gods I have never heard anything like it. " The Versailles gallery is a humbug — a hundred gilded rooms with looking-glasses and carved ceilings, and 2000 bad pictures to ornament them." Readers of the " Paris Sketch Book " will perhaps remember the striking passage which concludes the paper entitled " Medi- tations at Versailles." A. I. R. THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND CHAPTER I GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF OUR VILLAGE AND THE FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE DIAMOND WHEN I came up to town for my second year, my aunt Hoggarty made me a present of a diamond-pin ; that is to say, it was not a diamond-pin then, but a large old-fashioned locket, of Dublin manufactiure in the year 1795, which the late Mr. Hoggarty used to sport at the Lord Lieutenant's balls and elsewhere. He wore it, he said, at the battle of Vinegar Hill, when his club pigtail saved his head from being taken off, — but that is neither here nor there. In the middle of the brooch was Hoggarty in the scarlet imiform of the corps of Fencibles to which he belonged ; around it were thirteen locks of hair, belonging to a baker's dozen of sisters that the old gentleman had ; and as all these little ringlets partook of the family hue of brilliant auburn, Hoggarty's portrait seemed to the fanciful view like a great fat red round of beef surrounded by thirteen carrots. These were dished up on a plate of blue enamel, and it was from the Geeat Hoggaety Diamond (as we called it in the family) that the collection of hairs in question seemed as it were to spring. My aunt, I need not say, is rich ; and I thought I might be her heir as well as another. During my month's holiday, she was par- ticularly pleased with me ; made me drink tea with her often (though there was a certain person in the village with whom on those golden summer evenings I should have liked to have taken a stroll in the hayfields) ; promised every time I drank her bohea THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND CHAPTER I GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF OUR VILLAGE AND THE FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE DIAMOND WHEN I came up to town for my second year, my aunt Hoggarty made me a present of a diamond-pin ; that is to say, it was not a diamond-pin then, but a large old-fashioned locket, of Dublin manufacture in the year 1795, which the late Mr. Hoggarty used to sport at the Lord Lieutenant's balls and elsewhere. He wore it, he said, at the battle of Vinegar Hill, when his club pigtail saved his head from being taken off, — but that is neither here nor there. In the middle of the brooch was Hoggarty in the scarlet uniform of the corps of Fencibles to which he belonged ; around it were thirteen locks of hair, belonging to a baker's dozen of sisters that the old gentleman had ,• and as all these little ringlets partook of the fanuly hue of brilliant auburn, Hoggarty's portrait seemed to the fanciful view like a great fat red round of beef surrounded by thirteen carrots. These were dished up on a plate of blue enamel, and it was from the Great Hoggaety Diamond (as we called it in the family) that the collection of hairs in question seemed as it were to spring. My aunt, I need not say, is rich ; and I thought I might be her heir as well as another. During my month's holiday, she was par- ticularly pleased with me ; made me drink tea with her often (though there was a certain person in the village with whom on those golden summer evenings I should have liked to have taken a stroll in the hayfields) ; promised every time I drank her bohea 4 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH to do something handsome for me when I went back to town,— nay, three or four times had me to dinner at three, and to whist o cribbage afterwards. I did not care for the cards ; for though w always played seven hours on a stretch, and I always lost, my losing were never more than nineteenpence a night : but there was som^ infernal sour black-currant wine, that the old lady always pro duced at dinner, and with the tray at ten o'clock, and which \ dared not refuse ; though upon my word and honour it made mi very unwell. Well, I thought after all this obsequiousness on my part, anc my aunt's repeated promises, that the old lady would at least maki me a present of a score of guineas (of which she had a power in thi drawer) ; and so convinced was I that some such present was in tended for me, that a young lady by the name of Miss Mary Smith with whom I had conversed on the subject, actually netted me f little green silk purse, which she gave me (behind Hicks's hayrick as you turn to the right up Churchyard Lane) — ^which she gave me I say, wrapped up in a bit of silver paper. There was something in the purse, too, if the truth must be known. First there was i thick curl of the glossiest blackest hair you ever saw in your life, ant next there was threepence : that is to say, the half of a silvei sixpence hanging by a little necklace of blue riband. Ah, but j knew where the other half of the sixpence was, and envied thai happy bit of silver ! The last day of my holiday I was obliged, of course, to devote to Mrs. Hoggarty. My aunt was excessively gracious ; and by waj of a treat brought out a couple of bottles of the black currant, o which she made me drink the greater part. At night when all th( ladies assembled at her party had gone off with their pattens ani their maids, Mrs. Hoggarty, who had made a signal to me to stay, first blew out three of the wax candles in the drawing-room, anc taking the fourth in her hand, went and unlocked her escritoire. I can tell you my heart beat, though I pretended to look quit« unconcerned. " Sam, my dear," said she, as she was fumbling with her keys, "take another glass of Rosolio" (that was the name by which she baptized the cursed beverage) : "it will do you good." I took it and you might have seen my hand tremble as the bottle went clicl — click against the glass. By the time I had swallowed it, the olo lady had finished her operations at the bureau, and was coming towards me, the wax candle bobbing in one hand and a large parcel in the other. " Now's the time," thought I. "Samuel, my dear nephew," said she, "your first name you AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 5 received from your sainted uncle, my blessed husband ; and of all my nephews and nieces, you are the one whose conduct in life has most pleased me." When you consider that my aunt herself was one of seven married sisters, that all the Hoggarties were married in Ireland and mothers of numerous children, I must say that the compliment my aunt paid me was a very handsome one. " Dear aunt," says I, in a slow agitated voice, " I have often heard you say there were seventy-three of us in all, and believe me I do think your high opinion of me very complimentary indeed : I'm unworthy of it — indeed I am." "As for those odious Irish people," says my aunt, rather sharply, " don't speak of them ; I hate them, and every one of their mothers " (the fact is, there had been a lawsuit about Hoggarty's property) ; " but of all my other kindred, you, Samuel, have been the most dutiful and affectionate to me. Yoiu: employers in London give the best accounts of your regularity and good conduct. Though you have had eighty pounds a year (a liberal salary), you have not spent a shilling more than your income, as other young men would ; and you have devoted your month's holidays to your old aimt, who, I assure you, is grateful." " Oh, ma'am ! " said I. It was all that I could utter. " Samuel," continued she, " I promised you a present, and here it is. I first thought of giving you money ; but you are a regular lad ; and don't want it. You are above money, dear Samuel. I give you what I value most in life — the p, — the po, the po-ortrait of my sainted Hoggarty " (tears), " set in the locket which contains the valuable diamond that you have often heard me speak of. Wear it, dear Sam, for my sake ; and think of that angel in heaven, and of your dear Aunt Susy." She put the machine into my hands : it was about the size of the lid of a shaving-box : and I should as soon have thought of wear- ing it as of wearing a cocked-hat and pigtail. I was so disgusted and disappointed that I really could not get out a single word. When I recovered my presence of mind a little, I took the locket out of the bit of paper (the locket indeed ! it was as big as a barndoor padlock), and slowly put it into my shirt. "Thank you, aunt," said I, with admirable raillery. " I shall always value this present for the sake of you, who gave it me ; and it will recall to me my uncle, and my thirteen aunts in Ireland." " I don't want you to wear it in that way ! " shrieked Mrs. Hoggarty, "with the hair of those odious carroty women. You must have their hair removed." " Then the locket will be spoiled, aunt," 6 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH " Well, sir, never mind the locket ; have it set afresh." " Or suppose," said I, " I put aside the setting altogether : it is a little too large for the present fashion ; and have the portrait of my uncle framed and placed over my chimney-piece, next to yours. It's a sweet miniature." "That miniature," said Mrs. Hoggarty solemnly, "was the great Mulcahy's chef-d'oewvre " (pronounced shy dewver, a favourite word of my aunt's ; being, with the words hongtong and ally mode de Parry, the extent of her French vocabulary). " You know the dreadful story of that poor poor artist. When he had finished that wonderful likeness for the late Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty, county Mayo, she wore it m her bosom at the Lord Lieutenant's ball, where she played a game of piquet with the Commander-in- Ohief. What could have made her put the hair of her vulgar daughters round Mick's portrait, I can't think ; but so it was, as you see it this day. 'Madam,' says the Commander-in-Chief, 'if that is not my friend Mick Hoggarty, I'm a Dutchman ! ' Those were his Lordship's very words. Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty took off the brooch and showed it to him. " ' Who is the artist 'J ' says my Lord. ' It's the most wonderful likeness I ever saw in my life ! ' " ' Mulcahy,' says she, ' of Ormond's Quay.' " ' Begad, I patronise him ! ' says my Lord ; but presently his face darkened, and he gave back the picture with a dissatisfied air. 'There is one fault in that portrait,' said his Lordship, who was a rigid disciplinarian ; ' and I wonder that my friend Mick, as a military man, should have overlooked it.' " ' What's that ? ' says Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty. " ' Madam, he has been painted withoxtt his swobd-belt ! ' And he took up the cards again in a passion, and finished the game without saying a single word. " The news was carried to Mr. Mulcahy the next day, and that unfortunate artist went mad immediately I He had set his whole reputation upon this miniature, and declared that it should be fault- less. Such was the effect of the announcement upon his susceptible heart! When Mrs. Hoggarty died, your uncle took the portrait and always wore it himself. His sisters said it was for the sake of the diamond ; whereas, ungrateful things ! it was merely on account of their hair, and his love for the fine arts. As for the poor artist, my dear, some people said it was the profuse use of spirit that brought on delirium tremens; but I don't believe it. Take another glass of Rosolio." The telling of this story always put my aunt into great good- humour, and she promised at the end of it to pay for the new AND THE GKEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 7 setting of the diamond; desiring me to take it on my arrival in London to the great jeweller, Mr. Polonius, and send her the bill. " The fact is," said she, " that the goold in which the thing is set is worth five guineas at the very least, and you can have the diamond reset for two. However, keep the remainder, dear Sam, and buy yourself what you please with it." With this the old lady bade me adieu. The clock was striking twelve as I walked down the village, for the story of Mulcahy always took an hour iu the telling, and I went away not quite so down-hearted as when the present was first made to me. "After all," thought I, " a diamond-pin is a handsome thing, and wiU give me a distingue air, though my clothes be never so shabby " — and shabby they were without any doubt. " Well," I said, " three guineas, which I shall have over, wiU buy me a couple of pairs of what-d'ye-caU-'ems j " of which, entre nous, I was in great want, having just then done growing, whereas my pantaloons were made a good eighteen months before. Well, I walked down the village, my hands in my breeches pockets ; I had poor Mary's purse there, having removed the little things which she gave me the day before, and placed them — never mind where : but look you, in those days I had a heart, and a warm one too. I had Mary's purse ready for my aunt's dona- tion, which never came, and with my own little stock of money besides, that Mrs. Hoggarty's card parties had lessened by a good five-and-twenty shillings, I calculated that, after paying my fare, I should get to town with a couple of seven-shilling pieces in my pocket. I walked down the village at a deuce of a pace ; so quick that, if the thing had been possible, I should have overtaken ten o'clock that had passed by me two hours ago, when I was listening to Mrs. H.'s long stories over her terrible EosoUo. The truth is, at ten I had an appointment under a certain person's window, who was to have been looking at the moon at that hour, with her pretty quilled nightcap on, and her blessed hair in papers. There was the window shut, and not so much as a candle in it ; and though I hemmed and hawed, and whistled over the garden paling, and sang a song of which Somebody was very fond, and even threw a pebble at the window, which hit it exactly at the opening of the lattice, — I woke no one except a great brute of a house-dog, that yelled, and howled, and bounced so at me over the rails, that I thought every moment he would have had my nose between his teeth. So I was obliged to go off as quickly as might be ; and the next morning mamma and my sisters made breakfast for me at four, and 8 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH at five came the " True Blue " light six-inside post-coach to London, and I got up on the roof without having seen Mary Smith. As we passed the house, it did seem as if the window curtain in her room was drawn aside just a little bit. Certainly the window was open, and it had been shut the night before : but away went the coach; and the village, cottage, and the churchyard, and Hicks's, hayricks were soon out of sight. " My hi, what a pin ! " said a stable-boy, who was smoking a cigar, to the guard, looking at me and putting his finger to his nose. The fact is, that I had never undressed since my aunt's party ; and being uneasy in mind and having all my clothes to pack up, and thinking of something else, had quite forgotten Mrs. Hoggarty's brooch, which I had stuck into my shirt-MU the night before. CHAPTER II TELLS HOW THE DIAMOND IS BROUGHT UP TO lONDON, AND. PRODUCES WONDERFUL EFFECTS BOTH IN THE. CITY AND. AT THE WEST END THE circumstances recorded in this story took place some score of years ago, when, as the reader may remember, there was a great mania in the City of London for establishing com- panies of aU sorts ; by which many people made pretty fortunes. I was at this period, as the truth must be known, thirteenth clerk of twenty-four young gents who did the immense business of the Independent West Diddlesex Fire and Life Insurance Company, at their splendid stone mansion in Oomhill. Mamma had sunk a sum of four hundred pounds in the purchase of an annuity at thi^. office, which paid her no less than six-and-thirty pounds a year, when no other company in London would give her more than twenty-four. The chairman of the directors was the great Mr. Brough, of the house of Brough and Hofif, Crutched Friars, Turkey merchants. It was a new house, but did a tremendous business in the fig and sponge way, and more in the Zante currant line than any other firm in the City. Brough was a great man among the Dissenting connection, and you saw his name for hundreds at the head of every charitable society patronised by those good people. He had nine clerks residing at his office in Crutched Friars; he would not take one without a certificate from the schoolmaster and clergyman of his native place, strongly vouching for his morals and doctrine ; and the places were so run after, that he got a premium of four or five hundred pounds with each young gent, whom he made to slave for ten hours a day, and to whom in compensation he taught all the mysteries of the Turkish business. He was a great man on 'Change, too ; and our young chaps used to hear from the stockbrokers' clerks (we commonly dined together at the "Cock and Woolpack," a respectable house, where you get a capital cut of meat, bread, vegetables, cheese,, half a pint of porter, and a penny to the waiter, for a shilling) — the, young stockbrokers used to teU us of immense bargains in Spanish, Greek, and Columbians, that Brough made. Hoff had nothing to 10 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH do with them, but stopped at home minding exclusively the business of the house. He was a young chap, very quiet and steady, of the Quaker persuasion, and had been taken into partnership by Brough for a matter of thirty thousand pounds : and a very good bargain too. I was told in the strictest confidence that the house one year with another divided a good seven thousand pounds : of which Brough had half, Hoff two-sixths, and the other sixth went to old Tudlow, who had been Mr. Brough's clerk before the new partner- ship began. Tudlow always went about very shabby, and we thought him an old miser. One of our gents. Bob Swinney by name, used to say that TudloVs share was all nonsense, and that Brough had it all ; but Bob was always too knowing by half, used to wear a green cutaway coat, and had his free admission to Oovent Garden Theatre. He was always talking down at the shop, as we called it (it wasn't a shop, but as splendid an office as any in ComhUl) — he was always talking about Vestris and Miss Tree, and singing " The bramble, the bramble. The jolly jolly bramble ! " one of Charles Kemble's famous songs in " Maid Marian " ; a play that was all the rage then, taken from a famous story-book by one Peacock, a clerk in the India House; and a precious good place he has too. When Brough heard how Master Swinney abused him, and had his admission to the theatre, he came one day down to the office where we all were, four-and-twenty of us, and made one of the most beautiful speeches I ever heard in my life. He said that for slander he did not care, contumely was the lot of every public man who had austere principles of his own, and acted by them austerely; but what he did care for was the character of every single gentleman forming a part of the Independent West Diddlesex Association. The welfare of thousands was in their keeping ; mUlions of money were daily passing through their hands ; the City — the country looked upon them for order, honesty, and good example. And if he found amongst those whom he considered as his children — those whom he loved as his own flesh and blood — that that order was departed from, that that regularity was not maintained, that that good example was not kept up (Mr. B. always spoke in this emphatic way) — if he found his children departing from the whole- some rules of morality, religion, and decorum — if he found in high or low — in the head clerk at six hundred a year down to the porter who cleaned the steps — if he found the slightest taint of dissipation, he would cast the offender from him — yea, though he were his own son, he would east him from him ! AND THE GKEAT HOGGARTY DIAMONI) 11 As he spoke this, Mr. Brough burst into tears ; and we who didn't know what was coming, looked at each other as pale as parsnips : aU except Swinney, who was twelfth clerk, and made believe to whistle. When Mr. B. had wiped his eyes and recovered himself, he turned round; and oh, how my heart thumped as he looked me fiiU in the face ! How it was relieved, though, when he shouted out in a thundering voice^ — " Mr. Robert Swinney ! " " Sir to you," says Swinney, as cool as possible, and some of the chaps began to titter. " Mr. Swinney ! " roared Brough, in a voice still bigger than before, " when you came into this oflBce — this family, sir, for such it is, as I am proud to say — you found three-and-twenty as pious and well-regulated young men as ever laboured together — as ever had confided to them the wealth of this mighty capital and famous empire. You found, sir, sobriety, regularity, and decorum ; no profane songs were uttered in this place sacred to — to business ; no slanders were whispered against the heads of the establishment — but over them I pass : I can afibrd, sir, to pass them by — no worldly conversation or foul jesting disturbed the attention of these gentlemen, or desecrated the peacefiil scene of their labours. You found Christians and gentlemen, sir ! " " I paid for my place like the rest," said Swinney. " Didn't my governor take sha ? " " Silence, sir ! Your worthy father did take shares in this establishment, which will yield him one day an immense profit. He did take shares, sir, or you never would have been here. I glory in saying that every one of my young Mends around me has a father, a brother, a dear relative or friend, who is connected in a similar way with our glorious enterprise ; and that not one of them is there but has an interest in procuring, at a liberal commission, other persons to join the ranks, of our Association. But, sir, I am its chief. You will find, sir, your appointment signed by me ; and in like manner, I, John Brough, annul it. Go from us, sir ! — leave us — quit a family that can no longer receive you in its bosom ! Mr. Swinney, I have wept — I have prayed, sir, before I came to this determination ; I have taken counsel, sir, and am resolved. Depart from out of us I " " Not without three months' salary, though, Mr. B. : that cock won't fight ! " " They shall be paid to your father, sir." " My father be hanged ! I tell you what, Brough, I'm of age ; and if you don't pay me my salary, I'U arrest you, — by Jingo, I will ! I'll have you in quod, or my name's not Bob Swinney ! " 12 THE HISTOEY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH "Make out a cheque, Mr. Roundhand, for the three months' salary of this perverted young man." " Twenty-one pun' five, Roundhand, and nothing for the stamp ! " cried out that audacious Swinney. "There it is, sir, re-ceipted. You needn't cross it to my banker's. And if any of you gents like a glass of punch this evening at eight o'clock, Bob Swinney's your man, and nothing to pay. If Mr. Brough would do me the honour to come in and take a whack? Come, don't say no, if you'd rather not ! " We couldn't stand this impudence, and all burst out laughing like mad. " Leave the room ! " yelled Mr. Brough, whose face had turned quite blue ; and so Bob took his white hat off the peg, and strolled away with his "tile," as he called it, very much on one side. When he was gone, Mr. Brough gave us another lecture, by which we all determined to profit ; and going up to Roundhand's desk put his arm round his neck, and looked over the ledger. " What money has been paid in to-day, Roundhand 1 " he said, in a very kind way. "The widow, sir, came with her money; nine hundred and four ten and six— say £904, 10s. 6d. Captain Sparr, sir, paid his shares up ; grumbles, though, and says he's no more : fifty shares, two instalments — three fifties, sir." " He's always grumbling ! " "He says he has not a shilling to bless himself with until our dividend day." " Any more ? " Mr. Roundhand went through the book, and made it up nineteen hundred pounds in all. We were doing a famous business now ; though when I came into the office, we used to sit, and laugh, and joke, and read the newspapers all day ; bustling into our seats whenever a stray customer came. Brough never cared about our laughing and singing then, and was hand and glove with Bob Swinney; but that was in early times, before we were well in harness. " Nineteen hundred pounds, and a thousand pounds in shares. Bravo, Roundhand — bravo, gentlemen ! Remember, every share you bring in brings you five per cent, down on the nail ! Look to your friends — stick to your desks — ^be regular — I hope none of you forget church. Who takes Mr. Swinney's place 1 " " Mr. Samuel Titmarsh, sir." " Mr. Titmarsh, I congratulate you. Give me your hand, sir : you are now twelfth clerk of this Association, and your salary is consequently increased five pounds a year. How is your worthy AND THE G-REAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 13 mother, sir — your dear and excellent paxent? In good health, I trust ■? And long — long, I fervently pray, may this office continue to pay her annuity ! Eemember, if she has more money to lay out, there is higher interest than the last for her, for she is a year older ; and five per cent, for you, my boy ! Why not you as well as another 1 Yoimg men will be young men, and a ten-pound note does no harm. Does it, Mr. Abednego ? " " Oh no ! " says Abednego, who was third clerk, and who was the chap that informed against Swinney ; and he began to laugh, as indeed we all did whenever Mr. Brough made anything like a joke : not that they were jokes ; only we used to know it by his face. " Oh, by-the-bye, Roundhand," says he, " a word with you on business. Mrs. Brough wants to know why the deuce you never come down to Fulham." " Law, that's very polite ! " said Mr. Roundhand, quite pleased. " Name your day, my boy ! Say Saturday, and bring your night- cap with you." " You're very polite, I'm sure. I should be delighted beyond anything, but " " But — no buts, my boy ! Hark ye ! the Chancellor of the Exchequer does me the honour to dine with us, and I want you to see him ; for the truth is, I have bragged about you to his Lordship as the best actuary in the three kingdoms." Roundhand could not refuse such an invitation as that, though he had told us how Mrs. R. and he were going to pass Saturday and Sunday at Putney ; and we who knew what a life the poor fellow led, were sure that the head clerk would be prettily scolded by his lady when she heard what was going on. She disliked Mrs. Brough very much, that was the fact ; because Mrs. B. kept a carriage, and said she didn't know where PentonviUe was, and couldn't call on Mrs. Roundhand. Though, to be sure, her coachman might have found out the way. " And oh, Roundhand ! " continued our governor, " draw a cheque for seven hundred, wiU you ! Oome, don't stare, man ; I'm not going to run away ! That's right, — seven hundred — and ninety, say, while you're about it ! Our board meets on Saturday, and never fear I'll account for it to them before I drive you down. We shall take up the Chancellor at Whitehall." So saying, Mr. Brough folded up the cheque, and shaking hands with Mr. Roundhand very cordially, got into his carriage-and-four (he always drove four horses even in the City, where it's so difficult), which was waiting at the office-door for him. Bob Swinney used to say that he charged two of the horses to the Company ; but there was never believing half of what that Bob 14 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH said, he used to laugh and joke so. I don't know how it was, but I and a gent by the name of Hoskins (eleventh clerk), who lived together with me in Salisbury Square, Fleet Street — where we occupied a very genteel two-pair — found our flute duet rather tire- some that evening, and as it was a very fine night, strolled out for a walk West End way. When we arrived opposite Covent Garden Theatre we found ourselves close to the " Globe Tavern," and recol- lected Bob Swinney's hospitable invitation. We never fancied that he had meant the invitation in earnest, but thought we might as weU look in : at any rate there could be no harm in doing so. There, to be sure, in the back drawing-room, where he said he would be, we found Bob at the head of a table, and in the midst of a great smoke of cigars, and eighteen of our gents rattling and bang- ing away at the table with the bottoms of their glasses. What a shout they made as we came in ! " Hurray ! " says Bob, " here's two more ! Two more chairs, Mary, two more tiunblers, two more hot waters, and two more goes of gin ! Who would have thought of seeing Tit, in the name of goodness ■? " "Why," said I, "we only came in by the merest chance." At this word there was another tremendous roar : and it is a positive fact, that every man of the eighteen had said he came by chance ! However, chance gave us a very jovial night ; and that hospitable Bob Swinney paid every shilling of the score. " Gentlemen ! " says he, as he paid the bUl, " I'U give you the health of John Brough, Esquire, and thanks to him for the present of £21, 5s. which he made me this morning. What do I say — £21, 5s. 1 That and a month's salary that I should have had to pay — ^forfeit — down on the nail, by Jingo ! for leaving the shop, as I intended to do to-morrow morning. I've got a place — a tiptop place, I tell you. Five guineas a week, sis journeys a year, my own horse and gig, and to travel in the West of England in oil and spermaceti. Here's confusion to gas, and the health of Messrs. Gann & Co., of Thames Street, in the City of London ! " I have been thus particular in my account of the West Diddlesex Insurance Ofiice, and of Mr. Brough, the managing director (though the real names are neither given to the office nor to the chairman, as you may be sure), because the fate of me and my diamond pin was mysteriously bound up with both : as I am about to show. You must know that I was rather respected among our gents at the West Diddlesex, because I came of a better family than most of them ; had received a classical education ; and especially because I had a rich aunt, Mrs. Hoggarty, about whom, as must be con- fessed, I used to boast a good deal. There is no harm in being respected in this world, as I have found out; and if you don't AND THE GREAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND ij brag a little for yourself, depend on it there is no person of your acquaintance who will tell the world of your merits, and take the trouble off your hands. So that when I came back to the oflEice after my visit at home, and took my seat at the old day-book opposite the dingy window that looks into Birchin Lane, I pretty soon let the fellows know that Mrs. Hoggarty, though she had not given me a large sum of money, as I expected — indeed, I had promised a dozen of them a treat down the river, should the promised riches have come to me — I let them know, I say, that though my aunt had not given me any money, she had given me a splendid diamond, worth at least thirty guineas, and that some day I would sport it at the shop. " Oh, let's see it ! " says Abednego, whose father was a mock- jewel and gold-lace merchant in Hanway Yard; and I promised that he should have a sight of it as soon as it was set. As my pocket-money was run out too (by coach-hire to and from home, five shillings to our maid at home, ten to my aunt's maid and man, five-and-twenty shillings lost at whist, as I said, and fifteen-and-six paid for a silver scissors for the dear little fingers of Somebody), Eoundhand, who was very good-natured, asked me to dine, and advanced me £1, Is. 8d., a month's salary. It was at Roundhand's house, Myddelton Square, Pentonville, over a fillet of veal and bacon and a glass of port, that I learned and saw how his wife iQ-treated him ; as I have told before. Poor feUow !• — we under- clerks all thought it was a fine thing to sit at a desk by one's self, and have ,£50 per month, as Roimdhand had; but I've a notion that Hoskins and I, blowing duets on the flute together in our second floor in Salisbury Square, were a great deal more at ease than our head — and more in ha/rmony, too ; though we made sad work of the music, certainly. One day Gus Hoskins and I asked leave from Eoundhand to be off at three o'clock, as we had particular business at the West End. He knew it was about the great Hoggarty diamond, and gave us permission; so off we set. When we reached St. Martin's Lane, Gus got a cigar, to give himself as it were a distingue air, and puffed at it aJl the way up the Lane, and through the alleys into Coventry Street, where Mr. Polonius's shop is, as everybody knows. The door was open, and a number of carriages fuU of ladies were drawing up and setting down. Gus kept his hands in his pockets — ^trousers were worn very fiill then, with large tucks, and pigeon- holes for your boots, or Bluchers, to come through (the fashionables wore boots, but we chaps in the City, on £80 a year, contented ourselves with Bluchers) ; and as Gus stretched out his pantaloons as wide as he could from his hips, and kept blowing away at his i6 THE HISTOEY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH cheroot, and clamping with the iron heels of his boots, and had very large whiskers for so young a man, he really looked quite the genteel thing, and was taken by everybody to be a person of consideration. He would not come into the shop though, but stood staring at the gold pots and kettles in the window outside. I went in ; and after a little hemming and hawing — for I had never been at such a fashionable place before — asked one of the gentlemen to let me speak to Mr. Polonius. "What can I do for you, sir?" says Mr. Polonius, who was standing close by, as it happened, serving three ladies,- — a very old one and two young ones, who were examining pearl necklaces very attentively. " Sir," said I, producing my jewel out of my coat-pocket, " this jewel has, I believe, been in your house before: it belonged to my aunt, Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty." The old lady standing near looked round as I spoke. " I sold her a gold neck-chain and repeating watch in the year 1795," said Mr. Polonius, who made it a point to recoUect every- thing,; " and a silver punch-ladle to the Captain. How is the Major — Colonel — General — eh, sir T " "The General," said I, "I am sorry to say'' — though I was quite proud that this man of fashion should address me so — "Mr. Hoggarty is — no more. My aunt has made me a present, however, of this — this trinket — which, as you see, contains her husband's portrait, that I will thank you, sir, to preserve for me very carefully ; and she wishes that you would set this diamond neatly." "Neatly and handsomely, of course, sir." "Neatly, in the present fashion; and send down the account to her. There is a great deal of gold about the trinket, for which, of course, you will make an allowance." " To the last fraction of a sixpence," says Mr. Polonius, bowing, and looking at the jewel. "It's a wonderful piece of goods, certainly," said he; "though the diamond's a neat little bit, certainly. Do, my Lady, look at it. The tiling is of Irish manu- facture, bears the stamp of '95, and wiU recall perhaps the times of your Ladyship's earliest youth." " Get ye out, Mr. Polonius ! " said the old lady, a Uttle wizen- faced old lady, with her face puckered up in a million of wrinkles. " How dar you, sir, to talk such nonsense to an old woman like me ? Wasn't I fifty years old in '95, and a grandmother in '96 % " She put out a pair of withered trembling hands, took up the locket, examined it for a minute, and then burst out laughing : " As I live, it's the great Hoggarty diamond ! " AND THE GKEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 17 Good heavens ! what was this talisman that had come into my possession ? " Look, girls,'' continued the old lady : " this is the great jew'l of aU Ireland. This red-faced man in the middle is poor Mick Hoggarty, a cousin of mine, who was in love with me in the year '84, when I had just lost your poor dear grandpapa. These thirteen sthreamers of red hair represent his thirteen celebrated sisters, — Biddy, Minny, Thedy, Widdy (short for WiUiamina), Freddy, Izzy, Tizzy, Mysie, Grizzy, Polly, Dolly, Nell, and Bell — all married, all ugly, and all carr'ty hair. And of which are you the son, young man? — though, to do you justice, you're not like the family." Two pretty young ladies turned two pretty pairs of black eyes at me, and waited for an answer : which they would have had, only the old lady began rattling on a hundred stories about the thirteen ladies above named, and all their lovers, all their disappointments, and all the duels of Mick Hoggarty. She was a chronicle of fifty- years-old scandal. At last she was interrupted by a violent fit of coughing ; at the conclusion of which Mr. Polonius very respectfully asked me where he should send the pin, and whether I would like the hair kept. " No," says I, " never mind the hair." "And the pin, sir?" I had felt ashamed about telling my address : " But, hang it ! " thought I, " why should I ? — ' A king can make a belted knight, A marquess, duke, and a' that ; An honest man's abune bis might — Gude faith, he canna fa' that.' Why need I care about telling these ladies where I live 1 " " Sir," says I, " have the goodness to send the parcel, when done, to Mr. Titmarsh, No. 3 Bell Lane, Salisbury Square, near St. Bride's Church, Fleet Street. Eing, if you please, the two- pair bell." " What, Bill" said Mr. Polonius. "ffwat!" shrieked the old lady. "Mr. Hwati Mais, ma chhie, c'est impayable. Come along — here's the carr'age ! Give me your arm, Mr. Hwat, and get inside, and tell me all about your thirteen aunts." She seized on my elbow and hobbled through the shop as fast as possible ; the young ladies following her, laughing. "Now, jump in, do you hear?" said she, poking her sharp nose out of the window. " I can't, ma'am," says I ; " I have a friend." 18 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH "Pooh, pooh! send 'um to the juice, and jump in!" And before ahnost I could say a word, a great powdered fellow in yellow- plush breeches pushed me up the steps and banged the door to. I looked just for one minute as the barouche drove away at Hoskins, and never shall forget his figure. There stood Gus, his mouth wide open, his eyes staring, a smoking cheroot in his hand, wondering with all his might at the strange thing that had just happened to me. " Who is that Titmarsh ? " says Gus : " there's a coronet on the carriage, by Jingo ! " CHAPTER III HOfT THE POSSESSOR OF THE DIAMOND IS WHISKED INTO A MAGNIFICENT CHARIOT, AND HAS YET FURTHER GOOD LUCK 1SAT on the back seat of the carriage, near a very nice young lady, about my dear Mary's age — that is to say, seventeen and three-quarters; and opposite us sat the old Countess and her other granddaughter — handsome too, but ten years older. I re- collect I had on that day my blue coat and brass buttons, nankeen trousers, a white sprig waistcoat, and one of Dando's sUk hats, that had just come in in the year '22, and looked a great deal more glossy than the best beaver. " And who was that hidjus manster " — that was the way her Ladyship pronounced,— " that ojous vulgar wretch, with the iron heels to his boots, and the big mouth, and the imitation goold neck- chain, who steered at us so as we got into the carr'age 1 " How she should have known that Gus's chain was mosaic, I can't tell j but so it was, and we had bought it for five-and-twenty and sixpence only the week before at M'Phail's, ia St. Paul's Churchyard. But I did not like to hear my friend abused, and so spoke out for him — "Ma'am," says I, "that young gentleman's name is Augustus Hoskias. We Uve together; and a better or more kind-hearted fellow does not exist." "You are quite right to stand up for your friends, sir," said the second lady; whose name, it appears, was Lady Jane, but whom the grandmamma called Lady Jene. " Well, upon me canscience, so he is now. Lady Jene ; and I like sper't in a young man. So his name is Hoskins, is it ? I know, my dears, all the Hoskinses in England. There are the Lincolnshire Hoskinses, the Shropshire Hoskinses : they say the Admiral's daughter. Bell, was in love with a black footman, or boatswain, or some such thing; but the world's so censorious. There's old Doctor Hoskins of Bath, who attended poor dear Drum in the quinsy ; and poor dear old Fred Hoskins, the gouty General : I remember him as thin as a lath in the year '84, and as active 20 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH as a harlequin, and in love with me — oh, how he was in love with me ! " "You seem to have had a host of admirers in those days, grandmamma ? " said Lady Jane. " Hundreds, my dear, — Imndreds of thousands. I was the toast of Bath, and a great beauty, too : would you ever have thought it now, upon your conscience and without flattery, Mr.-a-What-d'ye- caU-'im?" " Indeed, ma'am, I never should," I answered, for the old lady was as ugly as possible; and at my saying this the two young ladies began screaming with laughter, and I saw the two great- whiskered footmen grinning over the back of the carriage. " Upon my word, you're mighty candid, Mr. What's-your-name — mighty candid indeed ; but I like candour in young people. But a beauty I was. Just ask your friend's uncle the General. He's one of the Lincolnshire Hoskinses — I knew he was by the strong family likeness. Is he the eldest son 1 It's a pretty property, though sadly encumbered ; for old Sir George was the diwle of a man — a friend of Hanbury Williams, and Lyttleton, and those horrid, monstrous, ojous people ! How much will he have now, mister, when the Admiral dies ? " " Why, ma'am, I can't say ; but the Admiral is not my friend's father." "Not his father? — but he is, I tell you, and I'm never wrong. Who is his father, then ? " "Ma'am, Gus's father's a leatherseUer in Skinner Street, Snow Hill — a very respectable house, ma'am. But Gus is only third son, and so can't expect a great share in the property." The two young ladies smUed at this — the old lady said "Hwati" "I like you, sir," Lady Jane said, "for not being ashamed of your friends, whatever their rank of life may be. Shall we have the pleasure of setting you down anjrwhere, Mr. Titmarsh 1 " " Noways particular, my Lady," says I. " We have a holiday at our ofl&ce to-day — at least Roundhand gave me and Gus leave ; and I shall be very happy, indeed, to take a drive in the Park, if it's no offence." " I'm sure it wiU give us — infinite pleasxire," said Lady Jane ; though rather in a grave way. "Oh, that it wiU!" says Lady Fanny, clapping her hands: "won't it, grandmamma? And after we have been in the Park, we can walk in Kensiagton Gardens, if Mr. Titmarsh wiU be good enough to accompany us." " Indeed, Fanny, we will do no such thing," says Lady Jane. " Indeed, but we will, though ! " shrieked out Lady Drum. AND THE GEEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 21 "Ain't I dying to know everything about his uncle and thirteen aunts? and you're all chattering so, you young women, that not a Messed syllable wiU you allow me or my young friend here to speak." Lady Jane gave a shrug with her shoulders, and did not say a single word more. Lady Fanny, who was as gay as a young kitten (if I may be allowed so to speak of the aristocracy), laughed, and blushed, and giggled, and seemed quite to enjoy her sister's iU-humour. And the Countess began at once, and entered into the history of the thirteen Misses Hoggarty, which was not near finished when we entered the Park. When there, you can't think what hundreds of gents on horse- back came to the carriage and talked to the ladies. They had their joke for Lady Drum, who seemed to be a character in her way ; their bow for Lady Jane; and, the young ones especially, their compliment for Lady Fanny. Though she bowed and blushed, as a young lady should. Lady Fanny seemed to be thinking of something else ; for she kept her head out of the carriage, looking eagerly among the horsemen, as if she expected to see somebody. Aha ! my Lady Fanny, / knew what it meant when a young pretty lady like you was absent, and on the look-out, and only half answered the questions put to her. Let alone Sam Titmarsh — he knows what Somebody means as well as another, I warrant. As I saw these mancBuvres going on, I could not help just giving a wink to Lady Jane, as much as to say I knew what was what. "I guess the young lady is looking for Somebody," says L It was then her turn to look queer, I assure you, and she blushed as red as scarlet; but after a minute, the good-natured little thing looked at her sister, and both the young ladies put their handkerchiefs up to their faces, and began laughing — laughing as if I had said the funniest thing in the world. " n est charmant, votre monsieur. " said Lady Jane to her grand- mamma; and on which I bowed, and said, "Madame, vous me faites beaucoup d'honneur : " for I know the French language, and was pleased to find that these good ladies had taken a liking to me. "I'm a poor humble lad, ma'am, not used to London society, and do really feel it quite kind of you to take me by the hand so, and give me a drive in your fine carriage." At this minute a gentleman on a black horse, with a pale face and a tuft to his chin, came riding up to the carriage ; and I knew by a little start that Lady Fanny gave, and by her instantly looking round the other way, that Somebody was come at last. "Lady Drum," said he, "your most devoted servant ! I have 22 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH just been riding with a gentleman who almost shot himself for love of the beautiful Countess of Drum in the year— never mind the year." "Was it Killblazes?" said the lady: "he's a dear old man, and I'm quite ready to go off with him this minute. Or was it that delight of an old bishop 1 He's got a lock of my hair now — I gave it him when he was papa's chaplain; and let me tell you it would be a hard matter to find another now in the same place." " Law, my Lady ! " says I, " you don't say so ? " " But indeed I do, my good sir," says she ; " for between ourselves, my head's as bare as a cannon ball — ask Fanny if it isn't. Such a fright as the poor thing got when she was a babby, and came upon me suddenly in my dressing-room without my wig ! " " I hope Lady Fanny has recovered from the shock," said " Somebody," looking first at her, and then at me as if he had a mind to swallow me. And would you believe it? all that Lady Fanny could say was, " Pretty well, I thank you, my Lord " ; and she said this with as much fluttering and blushing as we used to say our Virgil at school — when we hadn't learned it. My Lord still kept on looking very fiercely at me, and muttered something about having hoped to find a seat in Lady Drum's carriage, as he was tired of riding ; on which Lady Fanny muttered something, too, about a " friend of grandmamma's." " You should say a friend of yours, Fanny," says Lady Jane : " I am sure we should never have come to the Park if Fanny had not insisted upon bringing Mr. Titmarsh hither. Let me introduce the Earl of Tiptoff to Mr. Titmarsh." But instead of taking off his hat, as I did mine, his Lordship growled out that he hoped for another opportunity, and galloped off again on his black horse. Why the deuce / should have offended him I never could under- stand. But it seemed as if I was destined to offend all the men that day ; for who should presently come up but the Right Honourable Edmund Preston, one of His Majesty's Secretaries of State (as I knew very well by the almanac in our office) and the husband of Lady Jane ? The Right Honourable Edmund was riding a grey cob, and was a fat pale-faced man, who looked as if he never went into the open air. " Who the devil's that ? " said he to his wife, looking surlily both at me and her. "Oh, it's a friend of grandmamma's and Jane's," said Lady Fanny at once, looking, like a sly rogue as she was, quite archly at AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 23 her sister — who in her turn appeared quite frightened, and looked imploringly at her sister, and never dared to breathe a syllable. " Yes, indeed," continued Lady Fanny, " Mr. Titmarsh is a cousin of grandmamma's by the mother's side : by the Hoggarty side. Didn't you know the Hoggarties when you were in Ireland, Edmund, with Lord Bagwig? Let me introduce you to grandmamma's cousin, Mr. Titmarsh: Mr. Titmarsh, my brother, Mr. Edmund Preston." There was Lady Jane all the time treading upon her sister's foot as hard as possible, and the little wicked thing would take no notice ; and I, who had never heard of the cousinship, feeling as confounded as could be. But I did not know the Countess of Drum near so well as that sly minx her granddaughter did; for the old lady, who had just before called poor Gus Hoskins her cousin, had, it appeared, the mania of fancying aU the world related to her, and said — " Yes, we're cousins, and not very far removed. Mick Hoggarty 's grandmother was MiUicent Brady, and she and my Aunt Towzer were related, as all the world knows ; for Decimus Brady, of BaUy- brady, married an own cousin of Aunt Towzer's mother, BeH Swift — that was no relation of the Dean's, my love, who came but of a so-so family — and isn't that clear % " " Oh, perfectly, grandmamma," said Lady Jane, laughing, while the right honourable gent stUl rode by us, looking sour and surly. . "And sure you knew the Hoggarties, Edmund? — the thirteen red-haired girls — the nine graces, and four over, as poor Clanboy used to call them. Poor Clan ! — a cousin of yours and mine, Mr. Titmarsh, and sadly in love with me he was too. Not remember them all now, Edmund? — not remember? — not remember Biddy and Minny, and Thedy and Widdy, and Mysie and Grizzy, and Polly and DoUy, and the rest?" " D — the Miss Hoggarties, ma'am,'' said the right honourable gent ; and he said it with such energy, that his grey horse gave a sudden lash out that weU-nigh sent him over his head. Lady Jane screamed ; Lady Fanny laughed ; old Lady Drum looked as if she did not care twopence, and said " Serve you right for swearing, you ojous man you ! " "Hadn't you better come into the carriage, Edmund — Mr. Preston ? " cried out the lady anxiously. " Oh, I'm sure I'll slip out, ma'am," says I. " Pooh — pooh ! don't stir," said Lady Drum : " it's my carriage ; and if Mr. Preston chooses to swear at a lady of my years in that ojous vulgar way — in that ojous vulgar way I repeat— I don't see 24 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH why my friends should be inconvenienced for him. Let him sit on the dicky if he likes, or come in and ride bodkin." It was quite clear that my Lady Drum hated her grandson-in-law heartily ; and I've remarked somehow in families that this kind of hatred is by no means uncommon. Mr. Preston, one of His Majesty's Secretaries of State, was, to tell the truth, in a great fright upon his horse, and was glad to get away from the kicking plunging brute. His pale face looked still paler than before, and his hands and legs trembled, as he dismounted from the cob and gave the reins to his servant. I disliked the looks of the chap — of the master, I mean^ — at the first moment he came up, when he spoke rudely to that nice gentle wife of his ; and I thought he was a cowardly fellow, as the adventure of the cob showed him to be. Heaven bless you ! a baby could have ridden it ; and here was the man with his soul in his mouth at the very first kick. " Oh, quick ! do come in, Edmund," said Lady Fanny, laughing ; and the carriage steps being let down, and giving me a great scowl as he came in, he was going to place himself in Lady Fanny's comer (I warrant you I wouldn't budge from mine), when the little rogue cried out, "Oh no ! by no means, Mr. Preston. Shut the door, Thomas. And oh ! what fun it wiU be to show all the world a Secretary of State riding bodkin ! " And pretty glum the Secretary of State looked, I assure you ! " Take my place, Edmund, and don't mind Fanny's folly," said Lady Jane timidly. "Oh no ! Pray, madam, don't stir ! I'm comfortable, very comfortable ; and so I hope is this Mr. — this gentleman." " Perfectly, I assure you," says I. " I was going to offer to ride your horse home for you, as you seemed to be rather frightened at it ; but the fact was, I was so comfortable here that really I couldnH move." Such a grin as old Lady Drum gave when I said that ! — how her little eyes twinkled, and her little sly mouth puckered up ! I couldn't help speaking, for, look you, my blood was up. "We shall always be happy of your company. Cousin Titmarsh," says she ; and handed me a gold snuff-box, out of which I took a pinch, and sneezed with the air of a lord. " As you have invited this gentleman into your carriage. Lady Jane Preston, hadn't you better invite him home to dinner 1 " says Mr. Preston, quite blue with rage. " I invited him into my carr'age," says the old lady ; " and as we are going to dine at your house, and you press it, I'm sure I shall be very happy to see him there." AND THE GEEAT HOGGAKTY DIAMOND 25 " I'm very sorry I'm engaged," said I. " Oh, indeed, what a pity ! " says Right Honourable Ned, still glowering at his wife. " What a pity that this gentleman — I forget his name — that your friend. Lady Jane, is engaged ! I am sure you would have had such gratification in meeting your relation in Whitehall." Lady Drum was over-fond of finding out relations to be sure; but this speech of Right Honourable Ned's was rather too much. " Now, Sam," says I, " be a man and show your spirit ! " So I spoke up at once, and said, "Why, ladies, as the right honourable gent is so very pressing, I'll give up my engagement, and shall have sincere pleasure in cutting mutton with him. What's your hour, sir?" He didn't condescend to answer, and for me I did not care ; for, you see, I did not intend to dine with the man, but only to give him a lesson of manners. For though I am but a poor fellow, and hear people cry out how vulgar it is to eat peas with a knife, or ask three times for cheese, and such like points of ceremony, there's something, I think, much more vulgar than all this, and that is, insolence to one's inferiors. I hate the chap that uses it, as I scorn him of humble rank that afifects to be of the fashion; and so I determined to let Mr. Preston know a piece of my mind. When the carriage drove up to his house, I handed out the ladies as politely as possible, and walked into the hall, and then, taking hold of Mr. Preston's button at the door, I said, before the ladies and the two big servants — upon my word I did — " Sir," says I, " this kind old lady asked me into her carriage, and I rode in it to please her, not myself. When you came up and asked who the devil I was, I thought you might have put the question in a more polite manner ; but it wasn't my business to speak. When, by way of a joke, you invited me to dinner, I thought I would answer in a joke too, and here I am. But don't be irightened ; I'm not a-going to diae with you : only if you play the same joke upon other parties — on some of the chaps in our office, for example — I recommend you to have a care, or they wiU take you at yowr word." " Is that aU, sir 1 " says Mr. Preston, still in a rage. " If you have done, will you leave this house, or shall my servants turn you out 1 Turn out this fellow ! do you hear me 1 " and he broke away jfrom me, and flung into his study in a rage. " He's an ojous horrid monsther of a man, that husband of yours ! " said Lady Drum, seizing hold of her elder granddaughter's arm, " and I hate him ; and so come away, for the dinner '11 be getting cold : " and she was for hurrying away Lady Jane without more ado. But that kind lady, coming forward, looking very pale 26 THE HISTOEY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH and trembling, said, " Mr. Titmarsh, I do hope you'll not be angry — that is, that you'll forget what has happened, for, believe me, it has given me very great " Very great what, I never could say, for here the poor thing's eyes filled with tears ; and Lady Drum crying out " Tut, tut ! none of this nonsense," pulled her away by the sleeve, and went upstairs. But little Lady Eanny walked boldly up to me, and held me out her little hand, and gave mine such a squeeze, and said, " Good-bye, my dear Mr. Titmarsh," so very kin(Uy, that I'm blest if I did not blush up to the ears, and all the blood in my body began to tingle. So, when she was gone, I clapped my hat on my head, and walked out of the hall-door, feeling as proud as a peacock and as brave as a lion ; and all I wished for was that one of those saucy grinning footmen should say or do something to me that was the least uncivil, so that I might have the pleasure of knocking him down, with my best compliments to his master. But neither of them did me any such favour ! and I went away and dined at home off boiled mutton and turnips with Gus Hoskins quite peacefully. I did not think it was proper to tell Gus (who, between our- selves, is rather curious, and inclined to tittle-tattle) all the parti- culars of the family quarrel of which I had been the cause and witness, and so just said that the old lady ("They were the Drum arms," says Gus ; " for I went and looked them out that minute in the ' Peerage ' ") — that the old lady turned out to be a cousin of mine, and that she had taken me to drive in the Park. Next day we went to the office as usual, when you may be sure that Hoskins told everything of what had happened, and a great deal more ; and somehow, though I did not pretend to care sixpence about the matter, I must confess that I was rather pleased that the gents in our office should hear of a part of my adventure. But fancy my surprise, on coming home in the evening, to find Mrs. Stokes the landlady. Miss Selina Stokes her daughter, and Master Bob Stokes her son (an idle young vagabond that was always playing marbles on St. Bride's steps and in Salisbury Square), — when I found them all bustling and tumbling up the steps before me to our rooms on the second floor, and there, on the table, between our two flutes on one side, my album, Gus's " Don Juan " and "Peerage" on the other, I saw as follows : — \. A basket of great red peaches, looking like the cheeks of my dear Mary Smith. 2. A ditto of large, fat, luscious, heavy-looking grapes. AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 27 3. An enormous piece of raw mutton, as I thought it was ; but Mrs. Stokes said it was the primest haunch of venison that ever she saw. And three cards — viz.- — DOWAGER COUNTESS OP DRUM. LADY FANNY BAKES. MR. PRESTON. LADY JANE PRESTON. EARL OE TIPTOIT. " Sich a carriage ! " says Mrs. Stokes (for that was the way the poor thing spoke). "Sich a carriage — all over coronites! sich liveries — two great footmen, with red whiskers and yellowplush small- clothes ; and inside, a very old lady in a white poke bonnet, and a young one with a great Leghorn hat and blue ribands, and a great tall pale gentleman with a tuft on his chin. " ' Pray, madam, does Mr. Titmarsh live here 1 ' says the young lady, with her clear voice. " ' Yes, my Lady,' says I ; ' but he's at the office — the West Diddlesex Fire and Life Office, ComluU.' " 'Charles, get out the things,' says the gentleman, quite solemn. " 'Yes, my Lord,' says Charles; and brings me out the haunch in a newspaper, and on the chany dish as you see it, and the two baskets of fruit besides. " ' Have the kindness, madam,' says my Lord, ' to take these things to Mr. Titmarsh's rooms, with our, •with. Lady Jane Preston's compliments, and request his acceptance of them ; ' and then he pulled out the cards on your table, and this letter, sealed with his Lordship's own crown." And herewith Mrs. Stokes gave me a letter, which my wife keeps to this day, by the way, and which runs thus : — "The Earl of Tiptofif has been commissioned by Lady Jane Preston to express her sincere regret and disappointment that she was not able yesterday to enjoy the pleasure of Mr. Titmarsh's com- pany. Lady Jane is about to leave town immediately: she will therefore be unable to receive her friends in Whitehall Place this season. But Lord Tiptoff trusts that Mr. Titmarsh will have the kindness to accept some of the produce of her Ladyship's garden and park ; with which, perhaps, he will entertain some of those friends in whose favour he knows so well how to speak." 28 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH Along with this was a little note, containing the words " Lady Drum at home. Friday evening, June 17." And all this came to me because my aunt Hoggarty had given me a diamond-pin ! I did not send back the venison : as why should 1 1 Gus was for sending it at once to Brough, our director ; and the grapes and peaches to my aunt in Somersetshire. "But no," says I; "we'll ask Bob Swinney and half-a-dozen more of our gents ; and we'll have a merry night of it on Saturday." And a merry night we had too ; and as we had no wine in the cupboard, we had plenty of ale, and gin-punch afterwards. And Gus sat at the foot of the table, and I at the head ; and we sang songs, both comic and sentimental, and drank toasts ; and I made a speech that there is no possibility of mentioning here, because, mtre nous, I had quite forgotten in the morning everything that had taken place after a certain period on the night before. CHAPTER IV non^ THE HAPPY DIAMOND-H'EARER DINES AT PENTONVILLE I DID not go to the office till half-an-hour after opening time on Monday. If the truth must be told, I was not sorry to let Hoskins have the start of me, and tell the chaps what had taken plaoe, — for we all have our little vanities, and I liked to be thought well of by my companions. When I came in, I saw my business had been done, by the way in which the chaps looked at me; especially Abednego, who offered me a pinch out of his gold snuff-box the very first thing. Eoundhand shook me, too, warmly by the hand, when he came round to look over my day-book, said I wrote a capital hand (and indeed I believe I do, without any sort of flattery), and invited me for dinner next Sunday, in Myddelton Squaxe. "You won't have," said he, " quite such a grand turn-out as with your friends at the West End " — he said this with a particular accent — " but Amelia and I are always happy to see a friend in our plain way, — pale sherry, old port, and cut and come again. Hey 1 " I said I would come and bring Hoskins too. He answered that I was very polite, and that he should be very happy to see Hoskins ; and we went accordingly at the appointed day and hour ; but though Gus was eleventh clerk and I twelfth, I remarked that at dinner I was helped first and best. I had twice as many force-meat balls as Hoskins in my mock-turtle, and pretty nearly all the oysters out of the sauce-boat. Once Eoundhand was going to help Gus before me ; when his wife, who was seated at the head of the table, looking very big and fierce in red crape and a turban, shouted out, " Antony 1 " and poor K. dropped the plate, and blushed as red as anything. How Mrs. R. did talk to me about the West End, to be sure ! She had a " Peerage," as you may be certain, and knew everything about the Drum family in a manner that quite astonished me. She asked me how much Lord Drum had a year ; whether I thought he had twenty, thirty, forty, or a hundred and fifty thousand a year ; whether I was invited to Drum Castle j what the young ladies wore, and if they had those odious 30 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH gigot sleeves which were just coming in then ; and here Mrs. R. looked at a pair of large mottled arms that she was very proud of. " I say, Sam my boy ! " cried, in the midst of our talk, Mr. Roundhand, who had been passing the port-wine round pretty freely, " I hope you looked to the main chance, and put in a few shares of the West Diddlesex,— hey ?" " Mr. Roundhand, have you put up the decanters downstairs 1 " cries the lady, quite angry, and wishing to stop the conversation. " No, MiUy, I've emptied 'em," says R. " Don't Milly me, sir ! and have the goodness to go down and tell Lancy my maid " (a look at me) " to make the tea in the study. We have a gentleman here who is not used to Pentonville ways " {another look) ; " but he won't mind the ways of friends." And here Mrs.- Roundhand heaved her very large chest, and gave me a third look that was so severe, that I declare to goodness it ma,de me look quite foolish. As to Gus, she never so much as spoke to him all the evening ; but he consoled himself with a great lot of muffins, and sat most of the evening (it was a cruel hot summer) whistling and talking with Roundhand on the verandah. I think I should like to have been with them, — for it was very close in the room with that great big Mrs. Roundhand squeezing close up to one on the sofa. " Do you recollect what a jolly night we had here last summer ? " I heard Hoskins say, who was leaning over the balcony, and ogling the girls coming home from church. " You and me with our coats off, plenty of cold rum-and-water, Mrs. Roundhand at Margate, and a whole box of Manillas ? " " Hush ! " said Roundhand, quite eagerly ; " Milly will hear." But MiUy didn't hear : for she was occupied in telling me an immense long story about her waltzing with the Count de Schlop- penzoUem at the City ball to the Allied Sovereigns ; and how the Count had great large white moustaches ; and how odd she thought it to go whirling round the room with a great man's arm round your waist. " Mr. Roundhand has never allowed it since our marriage — never; but in the year 'fourteen it was considered a proper com- pliment, you know, to pay the sovereigns. So twenty-nine young ladies, of the best famihes in the City of London, I assiue you, Mr. Titmarsh — there was the Lord Mayor's own daughters; Alderman Dobbins's gals; Sir Charles Hopper's three, who have the great house in Baker Street ; and your humble servant, who was rather shmmer in those days — twenty-nine of us had a dancing-master on purpose, and practised waltzing in a room over the Egyptian Hall at the Mansion House. He was a splendid man, that Count Schlop- penzoUem ! " AND THE GEEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 31 " I am sure, ma'am," says I, " he had a splendid partner ! " and blushed up to my eyes when I said it. " Get away, you naughty creature ! " says Mrs. Eoundhand, giving me a great slap : " you're all the same, you men in the West End — all deceivers. The Count was just like you. Heigho ! Before you marry, it's all honey and compliments ; when you win us, it's all coldness and indifference. Look at Eoundhand, the great baby, trying to beat down a butterfly with his yellow bandanna ! Can a man like that comprehend mel can he fill the void in my heart % " (She pronounced it without the h ; but that there should be no nustake, laid her hand upon the place meant.) " Ah, no ! Wni you be so neglectful when you marry, Mr. Titmarsh ? " As she spoke, the bells were just tolling the people out of church, and I fell arthinking of my dear dear Mary Smith in the country, walking home to her grandmother's, in her modest grey cloak, as the bells were chiming and the air fuU of the sweet smell of the hay, and the river shimng in the sun, all crimson, purple, gold, and sUver. There was my dear Mary a hundred and twenty mUes off, in Somersetshire, walking home from church along with Mr. Snorter's family, with which she came and went ; and I was listening to the talk of this great leering vulgar woman. I could not help feehng for a certain half of a sixpence that you have heard me speak of j and putting my hand mechanically upon my chest, I tore my fiagers with the point of my new diamond-pin. Mr. Polonius had sent it home the night before, and I sported it for the fijst time at Eoundhand's to dinner. " It's a beautiful diamond," said Mrs. Eoundhand. " I have been looking at it aU dinner-time. How rich you must be to wear such splendid things ! and how can you remain in a vulgar office in the City — you who have such great acquaintances at the West End ? " The woman had somehow put me in such a passion that I bounced off the sofa, and made for the balcony without answering a word, — ay, and half broke my head against the sash, too, as I went out to the gents ii^ the open air. " Gus," says I, " I feel very unwell : I wish you'd come home with me." And Gus did not desire anything better ; for he had ogled the last girl out of the last church, and the night was beginning to fall. " What ! already 1 " said Mrs. Eoundhand ; " there is a lobster coming up, — a triflijig refreshment ; not what he's accustomed to, but " I am sorry to say I nearly said, " D — the lobster ! " as Eound- hand went and whispered to her that I was iU. " Ay," said Gus, looking very knowing. " EecoUect, Mrs. E., that he was at the West End on Thursday, asked to dine, ma'am, 32 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH ■with the tiptop nobs. Chaps don't dine at the West End for nothing, do they, E. ? If you play at bowls, you know " " You must look out for rubbers" said Roundhand, as quick as thought. " Not in my house of a Sunday," said Mrs. R., looking very fierce and angry. " Not a card shall be touched here. Are we in a Protestant land, sir ? in a Christian country ? " "My dear, you don't understand. We were not talking of rubbers of whist." " There shall be no game at all in the house of a Sabbath eve," said Mrs. Roundhand ; and out she flounced from the room, without ever so much as wishing us good-night. " Do stay," said the husband, looking very much frightened, — " do stay. She won't come back while you're here ; and I do wish you'd stay so." But we wouldn't : and when we reached Sahsbury Square, I gave Gus a lectufe about spending his Sundays idly ; and read out one of Blair's sermons before we went to bed. As I turned over in bed, I could not help thinking about the luck the pin had brought me ; and it was not over yet, as you will see in the next chapter. CHAPTER V HOr THE DIAMOND INTRODUCES HIM TO A STILL MORE FASHIONABLE PLACE TO tell the truth, though, about the pin, although I mentioned it almost the last thing in the previous chapter, I assure you it was by no means the last thing in my thoughts. It had come home from Mr. Polonius's, as I said, on Saturday night ; and Gus and I happened to be out enjoying ourselves, half-price, at Sadler's "Wells ; and perhaps we took a little refreshment on our way back : but that has nothing to do with my story. On the table, however, was the little box from the jeweller's ; and when I took it out, — mi/, how the diamond did twinkle and glitter by the light of our one candle ! "I'm sure it would light up the room of itself," says Gus. " I've read they do in — in history." It was in the history of Cogia Hassan Alhabbal, in the " Arabian Nights," as I knew very well. But we put the candle out, never- theless, to try. " Well, I declare to goodness it does illuminate the old place ! " says Gus ; but the fact was, that there was a gas-lamp opposite our window, and I believe that was the reason why we could see pretty well. At least in my bedroom, to which I was obliged to go without a candle, and of which the window looked out on a dead wall, I could not see a wink, in spite of the Hoggarty diamond, and was obliged to grope about in the dark for a pincushion which Somebody gave me (I don't mind owning it was Mary Smith), and in which I stuck it for the night. But, somehow, I did not sleep much for thinking of it, and woke very early in the morning ; and, if the truth must be told, stuck it in my night-gown, like a fool, and admired myself very much in the glass. Gus admired it as much as I did; for since my return, and especially since my venison dinner and drive with Lady Drum, he thought I was the finest fellow in the world, and boasted about his " West End friend " everywhere. As we were going to dine at Roundhand's, and I had no black satin stock to set it off, I was obliged to place it in the frill of my 3 C 34 THE HISTOEY OP SAMUEL TITMAESH best shirt, which tore the muslin sadly, by the way. However, the diamond had its effect on my entertainers, as we have seen ; rather too much perhaps on one of them ; and next day I wore it down at the office, as Gus would make me do; though it did not look near so well in the second day's shirt as on the first day, when the linen was quite clear and bright with Somersetshire washing. The chaps at the West Diddlesex all admired it hugely, except that snarling Scotchman M'Whirter, fourth clerk, — out of envy because I did not think much of a great yellow stone, named a carum-gormn, or some such thing, which he had in a snuff-mull, as he called it, — all except M'Whirter, I say, were delighted with it; and Abednego himself, who ought to know, as his father was in the line, told me the jewel was worth at least ten poundsh, and that his governor would give me as much for it. "That's a proof," says Eoundhand, "that Tit's diamond is worth at least thirty." And we all laughed, and agreed it was. Now I must confess that all these praises, and the respect that was paid me, turned my head a little ; and as all the chaps said I must have a black satin stock to set the stone off, I was fool enough to buy a stock that cost me flve-and-twenty shillings, at Ludlam's in Piccadilly : for Gus said I must go to the best place, to be sure, and have none of our cheap and common East End stuff. I might have had one for sixteen and six in Cheapside, every whit as good ; but when a young lad becomes vain, and wants to be fashionable, you see he can't help being extravagant. Our director, Mr. Brough, did not fail to hear of the haunch of venison business, and my relationship with Lady Drum and the Eight Honourable Edmund Preston : only Abednego, who told him, said I was her Ladyship's first cousin ; and this made Brough think more of me, and no worse than before. Mr. B. was, as everybody knows. Member of Parliament for Eottenburgh ; and being considered one of the richest men in the City of London, used to receive aH the great people of the land at his villa at Fulham ; and we often read in the papers of the rare doings going on there. Well, the pin certainly worked wonders : for not content merely with making me a present of a ride in a countess's carriage, of a haunch of venison and two baskets of flruit, and the dinner at Eoundhand's above described, my diamond had other honours in store for me, and procured me the honour of an invitation to the house of our director, Mr. Brough. Once a year, in June, that honourable gent gave a grand ball at his house at Fulham ; and by the accounts of the entertainment brought back by one or two of our chaps who had been invited AND THE GEEAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 35 it was one of the most magnificent things to be seen about London. You saw Members of Parliament there as thick as peas in July, lords and ladies without end. There was everything and everybody of the tiptop sort ; and I have heard that Mr. Gunter, of Berkeley Square, supplied the ices, supper, and footmen, — though of the latter Brough kept a plenty, but not enough to serve the host of people who came to him. The party, it must be remembered, was J//S. Brough's party, not the gentleman's, — he being in the Dissent- i.ic; way, would scarcely sanction any entertainments of the kind : but he told his City friends that his lady governed him in every- thing; and it was generally observed that most of them would allow their daughters to go to the ball if asked, on account of the immense number of the nobility which our director assembled together : Mrs. Roundhand, I know, for one, would have given one of her ears to go ; but, as I have said before, nothing would induce Brough to ask her. Eoundhand himself, and Gutch, nineteenth clerk, son of the brother of an East Indian director, were the only two of our gents invited, as we knew very well : for they had received their invitar tions many weeks before, and bragged about them not a little. But two days before the ball, and after my diamond-pin had had its due effect upon the gents at the office, Abednego, who had been in the directors' room, came to my desk with a great smirk, and said, "Tit, Mr. B. says that he expects you will come down with Eoundhand to the ball on Thursday." I thought Moses was joking, • — at any rate, that Mr. B.'s message was a queer one ; for people don't usually send invitations in that abrupt peremptory sort of way ; but, sure enough, he presently came down himself and con- firmed it, saying, as he was going out of the ofiBce, " Mr. Titmarsh, you will come down on Thursday to Mrs. Brough's party, where you wiU see some relations of your^" " West End again ! " says that Gus Hoskins ; and accordingly down I went, taking a place in a cab which Eoundhand hired for himself, Gutch, and me, and for which he very generously paid eight shillings. There is no use to describe the grand gala, nor the number of lamps in the lodge and in the garden, nor the crowd of carriages that came in at the gates, nor the troops of ciuious people outside ; nor the ices, fiddlers, wreaths of flowers, and cold supper within. The whole description was beautiftiUy given in a fashionable paper, by a reporter who observed the same from the " Yellow Lion " over the way, and told it in his journal in the most accurate manner; getting an account of the dresses of the great people from their footmen and coachmen, when they came to the alehouse for their 36 THE HISTOEY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH porter. As for the names of the guests, they, you may be sure, found their way to the same newspaper : and a great laugh was had at my expense, because among the titles of the great people men- tioned my name appeared in the list of the " Honourables." Next day, Brough advertised " a hundred and fifty guineas reward for an emerald necklace lost at the party of John Brough, Esq., at Fulham ; " though some of our people said that no such thing was lost at all, and that Brough only wanted to advertise the magnifi- cence of his society ; but this doubt was raised by persons not invited, and envious no doubt. Well, I wore my diamond, as you may imagine, and rigged myself in my best clothes, viz., my blue coat and brass buttons before mentioned, nankeen trousers and silk stockings, a white waistcoat, and a pair of white gloves bought for the occasion. But my coat was of country make, very high in the waist and short in the sleeves, and I suppose must have looked rather odd to some of the great people assembled, for they stared at me a great deal, and a whole crowd formed to see me dance — which I did to the best of my power, performing all the steps accurately and with great agility, as I had been taught by our dancing-master in the country. And with whom do you think I had the honour to dance'! With no less a person than Lady Jane Preston ; who, it appears, had not gone out of town, and who shook me most kindly by the hand when she saw me, and asked me to dance with her. We had my Lord Tiptoflf and Lady Fanny Eakes for our vis-k-vis. You should have seen how the people crowded to look at us, and admired my dancing too, for I cut the very best of capers, quite different to the rest of the gents (my Lord among the number), who walked through the quadrille as if they thought it a trouble, and stared at my activity with all their might. But when I have a dance I like to enjoy myself: and Mary Smith often said I was the very best partner at our assemblies. While we were dancing, I told Lady Jane how Roundhand, Gutch, and I had come down three in a cab, besides the driver ,- and my account of our adventures made her Ladyship laugh, I warrant you. Lucky it was for me that I didn't go back in the same vehicle , for the driver went and intoxi- cated himself at the "Yellow Lion," threw out Gutch and our head clerk as he was driving them back, and actually fought Gutch after- wards and blacked his eye, because he said that Gutch's red waist- coat fiightened the horse. Lady Jane, however, spared me such an uncomfortable ride home : for she said she had a fourth place in her carriage, and asked me if I would accept it ; and positively, at two o'clock in the morning, there was I, after setting the ladies and my Lord down, AND THE GEEAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 37 driven to Salisbury Square in a great thundering carriage, with flaming lamps and two tall footmen, who nearly knocked the door and the whole little street down with the noise they made" at the rapper. You should have seen Gus's head peeping out of window in his white nightcap ! He kept me up the whole night telling him about the ball, and the great people I had seen there ; and next day he told at the office my stories, with his own usual embroideries upon them. "Mr. Titmarsh," said Lady Fanny, laughing to me, "who is that great fat curious man, the master of the house 1 Do you know he asked me if you were not related to us 1 and I said, ' Oh yes, you were.' " " Fanny ! " says Lady Jane. "Well," answered the other, "did not grandmamma say Mr. Titmarsh was her cousin ? " " But you know that grandmamma's memory is not very good." " Indeed, you're wrong. Lady Jane," says my Lord ; " I think it's prodigious." " Yes, but not very — not very accurate." " No, my Lady," says I ; " for her Ladyship, the Countess of Drum, said, if you remember, that my friend Gus Hoskins " " Whose cause you supported so bravely," cries Lady Fanny. " — That my friend Gus is her Ladyship's cousin too, which cannot be, for I know all his family : they live in Skinner Street and St. Mary Axe, and are not — not quite so respectable as tm/ relatives." At this they all began to laugh; and my Lord said, rather haughtily — " Depend upon it, Mr. Titmarsh, that Lady Drum is no more your cousin than she is the cousin of your friend Mr. Hoskinson." " Hoskins, my Lord — and so I told Gus ; but you see he is very fond of me, and will have it that I am related to Lady D. : and say what I wiU to the contrary, tells the story everywhere. Though, to be sure," added I with a laugh, " it has gained me no small good in my time." So I described to the party our dinner at Mrs. Round- hand's, which all came from my diamond-pin, and my reputation as a connection of the aristocracy. Then I thanked Lady Jane hand- somely for her magnificent present of fhiit and venison, and told her that it had entertained a great number of kind friends of mine, who had drunk her Ladyship's health with the greatest gratitude. " A haunch of venison I " cried Lady Jane, quite astonished ; " indeed, Mr. Titmarsh, I am quite at a loss to understand you." As we passed a gas-lamp, I saw Lady Fanny laughing as usual, and turning her great arch sparkling black eyes at Lord Tiptoffi 38 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH " Why, Lady Jane," said he, " if the truth must out, the great haunch of venison trick was one of this young lady's performing. You must know that I had received the above-named haunch from Lord Guttlebury's park : and knowing that Preston is not averse to Guttlebury venison, was telling Lady Drum (in whose carriage I had a seat that day, as Mr. Titmarsh was not in the way) that I intended the haunch for your husband's table. Wliereupon my Lady Fanny, clapping together her little hands, declared and vowed that the venison should not go to Preston, but should be sent to a gentleman about whose adventures on the day previous we had just been talking — to Mr. Titmarsh, in fact ; whom Preston, as Fanny vowed, had used most cruelly, and to whom, she said, a reparation was due. So my Lady Fanny insists upon our driving straight to my rooms in the Albany (you know I am only to stay in my bachelor's quarters a month longer) " " Nonsense ! " says Lady Fanny, " — Insists upon driving straight to my chambers in the Albany, extracting thence the above-named haunch " "Grandmamma was very sorry to part with it," cries Lady Fanny. " — And then she orders us to proceed to Mr. Titmarsh's house in the City, where the venison was left, in company with a couple of baskets of fruit bought at Grange's by Lady Fanny herself." "And what was more," said Lady Fanny, "I made grand- mamma go into Fr — ^into Lord TiptofFs rooms, and dictated out of my own mouth the letter which he wrote, and pinned up the haunch of venison that his hideous old housekeeper brought us — I am quite jealous of her — I pinned up the haunch of venison in a copy of the John Bidl newspaper." It had one of the Ramsbottom letters in it, I remember, which Gus and I read on Sunday .at breakfast, and we nearly killed our- selves with laughing. The ladies laughed too when I told them this ; and good-natured Lady Jane said she would forgive her sister, and hoped I would too : which I promised to do as often as her Ladyship chose to repeat the offence. I never had any more venison from the family ; but I'll tell you what I had. About a month after came a card of " Lord and Lady Tiptoff," and a great piece of plum-cake ; of which, I am sorry to say, Gus ate a great deal too much. CHAPTER VI OF THE WEST DIDDLESEX ASSOCIATION, AND OF THE EFFECT THE DIAMOND HAD THERE WELL, the magic of the pin was not orer yet. Very soon after Mrs. Brough's grand party, our director called me up to his room at the West Diddlesex, and after examin- ing my accounts, and speaking a while about business, said, " That's a very fine diamond-pin, Master Titmarsh" (he spoke in a grave patronising way), "and I called you on purpose to speak to you upon the subject. I do not object to seeing the young men of this establishment weU and handsomely dressed j but I know that their salaries cannot afford ornaments like those, and I grieve to see you with a thing of such value. You have paid for it, sir, — I trust you have paid for it; for, of all things, my dear — dear young friend, beware of debt." I could not conceive why Brough was reading me this lecture about debt and my having bought the diamond-pin, as I knew that he had been asking about it already, and how I came by it — - Abednego told me so. "Why, sir," says I, "Mr. Abednego told me that he had told you that I had told him- " "Oh, ay — by-the-bye, now I recollect, Mr. Titmarsh — I do recollect — yes ; though I suppose, sir, you wiU imagine that I have other more important things to remember." " Oh, sir, in course," says L " That one of the clerks did say something about a pin — that one of the other gentlemen had It. And so your pin was given you, was it ? " "It was given me, sir, by my aunt, Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty," said I, raising my voice; for I was a little proud of Castle Hoggarty. " She must be very rich to make such presents, Titmarsh ? " " Why, thank you, sir," says I, " she is pretty well off. Four hundred a year jointure ; a farm at Slopperton, sir ; three houses at Squashtail ; and three thousand two hundred loose cash at the banker's, as I happen to know, sir, — that's all." I did happen to know this, you see ; because, while I was down 40 THE HISTOKY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH in Somersetshire, Mr. MacManus, my aunt's agent in Ireland, wrote to say that a mortgage she had on Lord Brallaghan's property had just been paid o£F, and that the money was lodged at Coutts's. Ireland was in a very disturbed state in those days ; and my aunt wisely determined not to invest her money in that country any more, but to look out for some good security in England. However, as she had always received six per cent, in Ireland, she would not hear of a smaller interest ; and had warned me, as I was a com- mercial man, on coming to town, to look out for some means by which she could invest her money at that rate at least. " And how do you come to know Mrs. Hoggarty's property so accurately 'i " said Mr. Brough ; upon which I told him. " Good heavens, su- ! and do you mean that you, a clerk in the West Diddlesex Insurance Office, applied to by a respectable lady as to the manner in which she should invest property, never spoke to her about the Company which you have the honour to serve 1 Do you mean, sir, that you, knowing there was a bonus of five per cent, for yourself upon shares taken, did not press Mrs. Hoggarty to join us ? " " Sir," says I, " I'm an honest man, and would not take a bonus from my own relation." " Honest I know yoti are, my boy — give me your hand ! So am I honest — so is every man in this Company honest; but we must be prudent as well. We have five millions of capital on our books, as you see — five bond fide millions of hond fide sovereigns paid up, sir — there is no dishonesty there. But why should we not have twenty miUions — a hundred miUions % Why should not this be the greatest commercial Association in the world? — as it shall be, sir, — ^it shall, as sure as my name is John Brough, if Heaven bless my honest endeavours to establish it ! But do you suppose that it can be so, unless every man among us use his utmost exertions to forward the success of the enterprise? Never, sir, — never; and, for me, I say so everywhere. I glory in what I do. There is not a house ia which I enter, but I leave a prospectus of the West Diddlesex. There is not a single tradesman I employ, but has shares in it to some amount. My servants, sir, — my very servants and grooms, are bound up with it. And the first question I ask of any one who applies to me for a place is, Are you insured or a shareholder in the West Diddlesex ? the second. Have you a good character? And if the first question is answered in the negative, I say to the party coming to me, Then he a shareholder before you ask for a place in my household. Did you not see me — me, John Brough, whose name is good for millions — step out of my coach-and- four into this office, with four pounds nineteen, which I paid in to AND THE GEEAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 41 Mr. Roundhand as the price of half a share for the porter at my lodge-gate? Did you remark that I deducted a shiffing from the five pound 1 " "Yes, sir; it was the day you drew out eight hundred and seventy-three ten and six — Thursday week," says I. " And why did I deduct that shilling, sir 1 Because it was my commission — John Brough's commission ; honestly earned by him, and openly taken. "Was there any disguise about it 1 No. Did I do it for the love of a shilling ? No," says Brough, laying his hand on his heart, " I did it from principle, — from that motive which guides every one of. my actions, as I can look up to Heaven and say. I wish all my young men to see my example, and follow it : I wish — I pray that they may. Thmk of that example, sir. That porter of mine has a sick wife and nine young children : he is himself a sick man, and his tenure of life is feeble ; he has earned money, sir, in my service — sixty pounds and more — ^it is all his children have to look to — all : but for that, in the event of his death, they would be houseless beggars in the street. And what have I done for that family, sir ? I have put that money out of the reach of Robert Gates, and placed it so that it shall be a blessing to his feraily at his death. Every farthing is invested in shares in this ofGlce ; and Robert Gates, my lodge-porter, is a holder of three shares in the West Diddlesex Association, and, in that capacity, your master and mine. Do you think I want to cheat Gates t " " Oh, sir ! " says I. "To cheat that poor helpless man, and those tender innocent children ! — you can't think so, sir ; I should be a disgrace to human nature if I did But what boots aU my energy and perseverance 1 What though I place my friends' money, my family's money, my own money — my hopes, wishes, desires, ambitions — all upon this enterprise ? You young men wiU not do so. You, whom I treat with love and confidence as my children, make no return to me. When I toil, you remain still ; when I struggle, you look on. Say the word at once, — you doubt me ! heavens, that this should be the reward of all my care and love for you ! " Here Mr. Brough was so affected that he actually burst into tears, and I confess I saw in its true light the negligence of which I had been guilty. "Sir," says I, "I am very — very sorry: it was a matter of delicacy, rather than otherwise, which induced me not to speak to my aunt about the West Diddlesex." "Delicacy, my dear dear boy — as if there can be any delicacy about making your aunt's fortune ! Say indifference to me, say ingratitude, say foUy,— but don't say delicacy — no, no, not deli- 42 THE HISTOEY OP SAMUEL TITMAESH cacy. Be honest, my boy, and caJl things by their right names— always do." " It was folly and ingratitude, Mr. Brough," says I : " I see it all now ; and I'll write to my aunt this very post." " You had better do no such thing," says Brough bitterly : " the stocks are at ninety, and Mrs. Hoggarty can get three per cent, for her money." "I will write, sir, — ^upon my word and honour, I will write." "Well, as your honour is passed, you must, I suppose; for never break your word — no, not in a trifle, Titmarsh. Send me up the letter when you have done, and I'll frank it — upon my word and honour I wiU," says Mr. Brough, laughing, and holding out his hand to me. I took it, and he pressed mine very kindly — ■" You may as well sit down here," says he, as he kept hold of it; "there is plenty of paper." And so I sat down and mended a beautiful pen, and began and wrote, " Independent West Diddlesex Association, June 1822," and "My dear Aunt," in the best manner possible. Then I paused a little, thinking what I should next say; for I have always found that difficulty about letters. The date and My dear So-and-so one writes off immediately — it is the next part which is hard; and I put my pen in my mouth, flung myself back in my chair, and began to think about it. " Bah ! " said Brough, " are you going to be about this letter all day, my good fellow? Listen to me, and I'H dictate to you in a moment." So he began : — " ' My dear Aunt, — Since my return from Somersetshire, I am very happy indeed to teU you that I have so pleased the managing director of our Association and the Board, that they have been good enough to appoint me third clerk ' " « Sir ! " says L " Write what I say. Mr. Eoundhand, as has been agreed by the board yesterday, quits the clerk's desk and takes the title of secretary and actuary. Mr. Highmore takes his place ; Mr. Abednego follows him ; and I place you as third clerk — as ' third clerk (write), with a salary of a hundred and fifty pounds per annum. This news wiU, I know, gratify my dear mother and you, who have been a second mother to me all my life. ' When I was last at home, I remember you consulted me as to the best mode of laying out a sum of money which was lying useless AND THE GKEAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 43 in your banker's hands. I have since lost no opportunity of gaining what information I could : and situated here as I am, in the very midst of affairs, I believe, although very young, I am as good a person to apply to as many others of greater age and standing. ■ ' I frequently thought of mentioning to you oui- Association, but feelings of delicacy prevented me from doing so. 1 did not wish that any one should suppose that a shadow of self-interest could move me in any way. 'But I believe, without any sort of doubt, that the West Diddlesex Association offers the best security that you can expect for your capital, and, at the same time, the highest interest you can anywhere procure. ' The situation of the Company, as I have it from the very best authority (underhne that), is as follows : — ' The subscribed and bond fide capital is five millions STERLING. ' The body of directors you know. Suifice it to say that the managing director is John Brough, Esq., of the iirm of Brough and Hoff, a Member of Parliament, and a man as well known as Mr. Rothschild in the City of London. His private fortune, I know for a fact, amounts to half a miUion ; and the last dividends paid to the shareholders of the I. W. D. Association amounted to 6| per cent, per annum.' [That I know was the dividend declared by us.] 'Although the shares in the market are at a very great pre- mium, it is the privilege of the four first clerks to dispose of a certain number £5000 each at par ; and if you, my dearest aunt, would wish for £2500 worth, I hope you will allow me to oblige you by offering you so much of my new privileges. ' Let me hear from you immediately upon the subject, as I have already an offer for the whole amount of my shares at market price.'" " But I haven't, sir,'' says L " You have, sir. / will take the shares ; but I want ycm. I want as many respectable persons in the Company as I can bring. I want you because I like you, and I don't mind telling you that I have views of my own as well ; for I am an honest man and say openly what I mean, and I'll tell you why I want you. I can't, by the regulations of the Company, have more than a certain number of votes, but if your aunt takes shares, I expect — I don't mind owning it — that she will vote with me. Now do you understand me % My object is to be all in all with the Company ; and if I be, 44 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH I will make it the most glorious enterprise that ever was conducted in the City of London." So I signed the letter and left it with Mr. B. to frank. The next day I went and took my place at the third clerk's desk, being led to it by Mr. B., who made a speech to the gents, much to the annoyance of the other chaps, who grumbled about their services : though, as for the matter of that, our services were very much alike : the Company was only three years old, and the oldest clerk in it had not six months' more standing in it than I. "Look out," said that envious M'Whirter to me. " Have you got money, or have any of yoiu" relations money? or are any of them going to put it into the concern 1 " I did not think fit to answer him, but took a pinch out of his mull, and was always kind to him ; and he, to say the truth, was always most civil to me. As for Gus Hoskins, he began to think I was a superior being ; and I must say that the rest of the chaps behaved very kindly in the matter, and said that if one man were to be put over their heads before another, they would have pitched upon me, for I had never harmed any of them, and done little kindnesses to several. " I know," says Abednego, " how you got the place. It was I who got it you. I told Brough you were a cousin of Preston's, the Lord of the Treasury, had venison from him and all that ; and depend upon it he expects that you will be able to do him some good in that quarter." I think there was some likelihood in what Abednego said, because our governor, as we called him, frequently spoke to me about my cousin ; told me to push the concern in the West End of the town, get as inany noblemen as we could to insure with us, and so on. It was in vain I said I could do nothing with Mr. Preston. " Bah ! bah ! " says Mr. Brough, " don't tell me. People don't send haunches of venison to you for nothing ; " and I'm convinced he thought I was a very cautious prudent fellow, for not bragging about my great family, and keeping my connection with them a secret. To be sure he might have learned the truth from Gus, who lived with me ; but Gus would insist that I was hand in glove with all the nobility, and boasted about me ten times as much as I did myself. The chaps used to call me the " West Ender." "See," thought I, "what I have gained by Aunt Hoggarty giving me a diamond-pin ! What a lucky thing it is that she did not give me the money, as I hoped she would ! Had I not had the pin — had I even taken it to any other person but Mr. Polonius, Lady Drum would never have noticed me ; had Lady Drum never AND THE GEEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 45 noticed me, Mr. Brough never would, and I never should have been third clerk of the West Diddlesex." I took heart at all this, and wrote off on the very evening of my appointment to my dearest Mary Smith, giving her warning that a "certain event," for which one of us was longing very earnestly, might come off sooner than we had expected. And why nof? Miss S's own fortune was £70 a year, mine was £150, and when we had £300, we always vowed we would marry. '■ Ah ! " thought I, " if I could but go to Somersetshire now, I might boldly walk up to old Smith's door " (he was her grandfather, and a half- pay lieutenant of the navy), " I might knock at the knocker and see my beloved Mary in the parlour, and not be obliged to sneak behind hayricks on the look-out for her, or pelt stones at midnight at her window " My aunt, in a few days, wrote a pretty gracious reply to my letter. She had not determined, she said, as to the manner in which she should employ her three thousand pounds, but should take my offer into consideration ; begging me to keep my shares open for a little while, until her mind was made up. What, then, does Mr. Brough do ? I learned afterwards, in the year 1830, when he and the West Diddlesex Association had dis- appeared altogether, how he had proceeded. " Who are the attorneys at Slopperton ? " says he to me in a careless way. "Mr. Euck, sir," says I, "is the Tory solicitor, and Messrs. Hodge and Smithers the Liberals." I knew them very well, for the fact is, before Mary Smith came to live in our parts, I was rather partial to Miss Hodge, and her great gold-coloured ringlets; but Mary came and soon put her nose out of joint, as the saying is. " And you are of what politics % " "Why, sir, we are Liberals." I was rather ashamed of this, for Mr. Brough was an out-and-out Tory ; but Hodge and Smithers is a most respectable firm. I brought up a packet from them to Hickson, Dixon, Paxton and Jackson, our solicitors, who are their London correspondents. Mr. Brough only said, " Oh, indeed ! " and did not talk any further on the subject, but began admiring my diamond-pin very much. " Titmarsh. my dear boy," says he, " I have a young lady at Fulham who is worth seeing, I assure you, and who has heard so much about you from her father (for I like you, my boy, I don't care to own it), that she is rather anxious to see you too. Suppose you come down to us for a week 1 Abednego will do your work." " Law, sir ! you are very kind," says I. 46 THE HISTOEY OP SAMUEL TITMAESH "Well, you shall come down; and I hope you will like my claret. But hark ye ! I don't think, my dear fellow, you are quite smart enough — quite well enough dressed. Do you under- stand me ? " " I've my blue coat and brass buttons at home, sir." " What ! that thing with the waist between your shoulders that you wore at Mrs. Brough's party?" (It was rather high- waisted, being made in the country two years before.) " No — no, that will never do. Get some new clothes, sir, — two new suits of clothes." " Sir ! " says I, " I'm already, if the truth must be told, very- short of money for this quarter, and can't afford myself a new suit for a long time to come." " Pooh, pooh ! don't let that annoy you. Here's a ten-pound note but no, on second thoughts, you may as well go to my tailor's. I'U drive you down there : and never mind the bill, my good lad ! " And drive me down he actually did, in his grand coach-and-four, to Mr. Von Stiltz, in Clifford Street, who took my measure, and sent me home two of the finest coats ever seen, a dress-coat and a frock, a velvet waistcoat, a silk ditto, and three pairs of pantaloons, of the most beautiful make. Brough told me to get some boots and piunps, and silk stockings for evenings ; so that when the time came for me to go down to Fulham, I appeared as handsome as any young nobleman, and Gus said that " I looked, by Jingo, like a regular tiptop swell." In the meantime the following letter had been sent down to Hodge and Smithers : — "Ram Alley, Cornhul, London: JiUp 1822. " Deae Sirs, [This part being on private affairs relative to the cases of Dixon V. Haggerstony, Snodgrass v. Eubbidge and another, I am not permitted to extract.] " Likewise we beg to hand you a few more prospectuses of the Independent West Diddlesex Fire and Life Insurance Company of which we have the honour to be the solicitors in London. We wrote to you last year, requesting you to accept the Slopperton and Somerset agency for the same, and have been expecting for AND THE GEEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 47 some time back that either shares or assurances should be effected by you. "The capital of the Company, as you know, is five millions sterling (say £5,000,000), and we are in a situation to offer more than the usual commission to our agents of the legal profession. We shall be happy to give a premium of 6 per cent, for shares to the amount of ilOOO, 6 J per cent, above a thousand, to be paid immediately upon the taking of the shares. — I am, dear sirs, for self and partners, yours most faithfully, " Samuel Jackson." This letter, as I have said, came into my hands some time afterwards. I knew nothing of it in the year 1822, when, in my new suit of clothes, I went down to pass a week at the Eookery, Fulham, residence of John Brough, Esquire, M.P, CHAPTER VII HOW SAMUEL TITMARSH REACHED THE HIGHEST POINT OF PROSPERITY IF I had the pen of a George Robins, I might describe the Rookery properly: suffice it, however, to say it is a very handsome country place ; with handsome lawns sloping down to the river, handsome shrubberies and conservatories, fine stables, outhouses, kitchen-gardens, and everything belonging to a first-rate rus in urbe, as the great auctioneer called it when he hammered it down some years after. I arrived on a Saturday at half-an-hour before dinner : a grave gentleman out of Uvery showed me to my room ; a man in a chocolate coat and gold lace, with Brough's crest on the buttons, brought me a silver shaving-pot of hot water on a silver tray; and a grand dinner was ready at six, at which I had the honour of appearing in Von Stiltz's dress-coat and my new silk stockings and pumps. Brough took me by the hand as I came in, and presented me to his lady, a stout fair-haired woman, in light blue satin ; then to his daughter, a tall, thin, dark-eyed girl, with beetle-brows, looking very iR-natured, and about eighteen. " Belinda my love," said her papa, " this young gentleman is one of my clerks, who was at our ball." " Oh, indeed ! " says Belinda, tossing up her head. " But not a common clerk. Miss Belinda, — so, if you please, we wiU have none of your aristocratic airs with him. He is a nephew of the Countess of Drum ; and I hope he will soon be very high in our establishment, and in the City of London." At the name of Countess (I had a dozen times rectified the error about our relationship), Miss Belinda made a low curtsey, and stared at me very hard, and said she would try and make the Rookery pleasant to any friend of papa's. " We have not much monde to- ' day," continued Miss Brough, "and are only in joeii* comite ; but I hope before you leave us you will see some soeiStS that will make your sdjowr agreeable." I saw at once that she was a fashionable girl, from her using the French language in this way. AND THE GEEAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 49 " Isn't she a fine girl 1 " said Brough, whispering to me, and evi- dently as proud of her as a man could be. " Isn't she a fine girl — eh, you dog 1 Do you see breeding like that in Somersetshire 1 " "No, sir, upon my word ! " answered I, rather slyly; for I was thinting all the while how "Somebody" was a thousand times more beautiful, simple, and ladylike. " And what has my dearest love been doing all day ^ " said her papa. " Oh, pa ! I have pincM the harp a little to Captain Fizgig's flute. Didn't I, Captain Fizgig V Captain the Honourable Francis Fizgig said, "Yes, Brough, your fair daughter pincM the harp, and tcmchid the piano, and igratigvAd the guitar, and dcorcMd a song or two ; and we haxi the pleasure of a promenade ct Veau, — of a walk upon the water." "Law, Captain ! " cries Mrs. Brough, " walk on the water?" " Hush, mamma, you don't understand French ! " says Miss Belinda, with a sneer. " It's a sad disadvantage, madam," says Fizgig gravely ; " and I recommend you and Brough here, who axe coming out in the great world, to have some lessons ; or at least get up a couple of dozen phrases, and mtroduce them into your conversation here and there. I suppose, sir, you speak it commonly at the office, Mr. What-you- call-itl" And Mr. Fizgig put his glass into his eye, and looked at me. "We speak English, sir," says I, "knowing it better than French." "Everybody has not had your opportunities. Miss Brough," continued the gentleman. " Everybody has not voyag^ like ncms autres, hey 'i Mais que voulez-vous, my good sir ? you must stick to your cursed ledgers and things. What's the French for ledger, Miss Belinda r' " How can you ask 1 Je n'en spais rien, I'm sure." "You should learn. Miss Brough," said her father. "The daughter of a British merchant need not be ashamed of the means by which her father gets his bread. I'm not ashamed — I'm not proud. Those who know John Brough, know that ten years ago he was a poor clerk like my friend Titmarsh here, and is now worth half a million. Is there any man in the House better listened to than John Brough? Is there any duke in the land that can give a better dinner than John Brough; or a larger fortune to his daughter than John Brough? Why, sir, the humble person now speaking to you could buy out many a German duke ! But I'm not proud — no, no, not proud. There's my daughter — look at her — when I die she will be mistress of my fortune ; but so THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH am I proud 1 No ! Let him who can win her, marry her, that's what I say. Be it you, Mr. Fizgig, son of a peer of the realm ; or you, Bill Tidd. Be it a duke or a shoeblack, what do I care, hey? — what do I care 1 " " 0-o-oh ! " sighed the gent who went by the name of Bill Tidd : a very pale young man, with a black riband round his neck instead of a handkerchief, and his collars turned down like Lord Byron. He was leaning against the mantelpiece, and with a pair of great green eyes ogUng Miss Brough with all his might. "Oh, John— my dear John!" cried Mrs. Brough, seizing her husband's hand and kissing it, "you are an angel, that you are ! " "Isabella, don't flatter me; I'm a mem, — a plain downright citizen of London, without a particle of pride, except in you and my daughter here — my two Bells, as I call them ! This is the way that we Uve, Titmarsh, my boy : ours is a happy, himible, Christian home, and that's aU. Isabella, leave go my hand ! " " Mamma, you mustn't do so before company ; it's odious ! " shrieked Miss B. ; and mamma quietly let the hand fall, and heaved from her ample bosom a great large sigh. I felt a liking for that simple woman, and a respect for Brough too. He couldn't be a bad man, whose wife loved him so. Dinner was soon announced, and I had the honour of leading in Miss B., who looked back rather angrily, I thought, at Captain Fizgig, because that gentleman had offered his arm to Mrs. Brough. He sat on the right of Mrs. Brough, and Miss flounced down on the seat next to him, leaving me and Mr. Tidd to take our places at the opposite side of the table. At dinner there was turbot and soup first, and boiled turkey afterwards, of course. How is it that at all the great dinners they have this perpetual boiled turkey ? It was real turtle-soup : the first time I had ever tasted it ; and I remarked how Mrs. B., who insisted on helping it, gave all the green lumps of fat to her husband, and put several slices of the breast of the bird under the body, until it came to his turn to be helped. " I'm a plain man," says John, " and eat a plain dinner. I hate your kickshaws, though I keep a French cook for those who are not of my way of thinking. I'm no egotist, look you; I've no prejudices ; and Miss there has her bechamels and fallals according to her taste. Captain, try the volly^ong." We had plenty of champagne and old madeira with dinner, and great silver tankards of porter, which those might take who chose. Brough made especially a boast of drinking beer; and, when the ladies retired, said, " Gentlemen, Tiggins will give you an unlimited AND THE GEEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 51 supply of wine : there's no stinting here ; " and then laid himself down in his easy-chair and fell asleep. " He always does so," whispered Mr. Tidd to me. "Get some of that yellow-sealed wine, Tiggins," says the Captain. "That other claret we had yesterday is loaded, and disagrees with me infernally ! " I must say I liked the yellow seal much better than Aunt Hoggarty's Rosolio. I soon found out what Mr. Tidd was, and what he was longing for. " Isn't she a glorious creature 1 " says he to me. "Who, sir?" says I. " Miss Belinda, to be sure ! " cried Tidd. " Did mortal ever look upon eyes like hers, or view a more sylph-like figure ? " " She might have a little more flesh, Mr. Tidd," says the Captain, " and a little less eyebrow. They look vicious, those scowling eye- brows, in a girl. Qu'en dites-vous, Mr. Titmarsh, as Miss Brough would say 1 " " I tliink it remarkably good claret, sir," says I. " Egad, you're the right sort of fellow ! " says the Captain. " Yolto sciolto, eh ? You respect oiu: sleeping host yonder 1 " " That I do, sir, as the first man in the City of London, and my managing director." " And so do I," says Tidd ; " and this day fortnight, when I'm of age, I'U prove my confidence too." " As how 1 " says I. " Why, sir, you must know that I come into — ahem — a consider- able property, sir, on the 14th of July, which my father made — in business." " Say at once he was a tailor, Tidd." " He was a tailor, sir, — but what of that 1 I've had a University education, and have the feelings of a gentleman; as much — ay, perhaps, and more than some members of an efiete aristocracy." " Tidd, don't be severe ! " says the Captain, drinking a tenth glass. " Well, Mr. Titmarsh, when of age I come into a considerable property ; and Mr. Brough has been so good as to say he can get me twelve hundred a year for my twenty thousand pounds, and I have promised to invest them." " In the West Diddlesex, sir 1 " says I—" in our ofiSce ? " " No, in another company, of which Mr. Brough is director, and quite as good a thing. Mr. Brough is a very old friend of my family, sir, and he has taken a great liking to me ; and he says that with my talents I ought to get into Parliament ; and then — and then ! 52 THE HISTORY OP SAMUEL TITMABSH after I have laid out my patrimony, I may look to matrimony, you see ! " " Oh you designing dog ! " said the Captain. " When I used to lick you at school, who ever would have thought that I was thrashing a sucking statesman 1 " " Talk away, boys ! " said Brough, waking out of his sleep ; " I only sleep with half an eye, and hear you all. Yes, you shall get into Pariiament, Tidd, my man, or my name's not Brough ! You shall have six per cent, for your money, or never believe me ! _ But as for my daughter — ask her, and not me. You, or the Captain, or Titmarsh, may have her, if you can get her. AH I ask in a son-in- law is, that he should be, as every one of you is, an honourable and high-minded man ! " Tidd at this looked very knowing ; and as our host sank off to sleep again, pointed archly at his eyebrows, and wagged his head at the Captain. " Bah ! " says the Captain. " I say what I think ; and you may tell Miss Brough if you like." And so presently this conversa- tion ended, and we were summoned in to coffee. After which the Captain sang songs with Miss Brough ; Tidd looked at her and said nothing ; I looked at prints, and Mrs. Brough sat knitting stockings for the poor. The Captain was sneering openly at Miss Brough and her affected ways and talk ; but in spite of his bullying contemptuous way, I thought she seemed to have a great regard for him, and to bear his scorn very meekly. At twelve Captain Fizgig went off to his barracks at Knights- bridge, and Tidd and I to our rooms. Next day being Sunday, a great bell woke us at eight, and at nine we all assembled in the breakfast-room, where Mr. Brough read prayers, a chapter, and made an exhortation afterwards, to us and aU the members of the house- hold ; except the French cook, Monsieur Nontongpaw, whom I could see, from my chair, walking about in the shrubberies in his white nightcap, smoking a cigar. Every morning on week-days, punctually at eight, Mr. Brough went through the same ceremony, and had his family to prayers ; but though this man was a hypocrite, as I found afterwards, I'm not going to laugh at the family prayers, or say he was a hypocrite because he had them. There are many bad and good men who don't go through the ceremony at all ; but I am sure the good men would be the better for it, and am not called upon to settle the question with respect to the bad ones ; and therefore I have passed over a great deal of the religious part of Mr. Brough's behaviour : suffice it, that religion was always on his lips ; that he went to church thrice every Sunday, when he had not a party ; and if he did not talk AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 53 religion with us when we were alone, had a great deal to say upon the subject upon occasions, as I found one day when we had a Quaker and Dissenter party to dine, and when his talk was as grave as that of any minister present. Tidd was not there that day, — for nothing could make him forsake his Byron riband or refrain from wearing his collars turned down ; so Tidd was sent with the buggy to Astley's. " And hark ye, Titmarsh, my boy," said he, " leave your diamond-pin upstairs : our friends to-day don't like such gewgaws ; and though for my part I am no enemy to harmless ornaments, yet I would not shock the feelings of those who have sterner opinions. You will see that my wife and Miss Brough consult my wishes in this respect." And so they did, — for they both came down to dinner in black gowns and tippets ; whereas Miss B. had commonly her dress half off her shoulders. The Captain rode over several times to see us; and Miss Brough seemed always delighted to see him. One day I met him as I was walking out alone by the river, and we had a long talk together. "Mr. Titmarsh," says he, "from what little I have seen of you, you seem to be an honest straight-minded young fellow ; and I want some information that you can give. Tell me, in the first place, if you will — and upon my honour it shall go no farther — about this Insurance Company of yours? You are in the City, and see how affairs are going on. Is your concern a stable one % " "Sir," said I, "frankly then, and upon my honour too, I believe it is. It has been set up only four years, it is true ; but Mr. Brough had a great name when it was established, and a vast connection. Every clerk in the office has, to be sure, in a manner, paid for his place, either by taking shares himself, or by his rela- tions taking them. I got mine because my mother, who is very poor, devoted a small sum of money that came to us to the purchase of an annuity for herself and a provision for me. The matter was debated by the family and our attorneys, Messrs. Hodge and Smithers, who are very well known in our part of the country ; and it was agreed on all hands that my mother could not do better with her money for all of us than invest it in this way. Brough alone is worth half a million of money, and his name is a host in itself. Nay, more : I wrote the other day to an aunt of mine, who has a considerable sum of money in loose cash, and who had consulted me as to the disposal of it, to invest it in our office. Can I give you any better proof of my opinion of its solvency 1 " " Did Brough persuade you in any way ? " "Yes, he certainly spoke to me: but he very honestly told me his motives, and tells them to us all as honestly. He says. 54 l^HE HISTORY OP SAMUEL TITMARSH 'Gentlemen, it is my object to increase the connection of the office, as much as possible. I want to crush all the other offices in London. Our terms are lower than any office, and we can bear to have them lower, and a great business will come to us that way. But we must work ourselves as well. Every single share- holder and officer of the establishment must exert himself, and bring us customers, — no matter for how little they are engaged — engage them: that is the great point.' And accordingly our Director makes all his friends and servants shareholders : his very lodge-porter yonder is a shareholder; and he thus endeavours to fasten upon all whom he comes near. I, for instance, have just been appointed over the heads of our gents, to a much better place than I held. I am asked down here, and entertained royally : and why ? Because my aunt has three thousand pounds which Mr. Brough wants her to invest with us." " That looks awkward, Mr. Titmarsh." " Not a whit, sir ; he makes no disguise of the matter. When the question is settled one way or the other, I don't believe Mr. Brough will take any further notice of me. But he wants me now. This place happened to fall in just at the very moment when he had need of me ; and he hopes to gain over my family through me. He told me as much as we drove down. ' You are a man of the world, Titmarsh,' said he ; ' you know that I don't give you this place because you are an honest fellow, and write a good hand. If I had a lesser bribe to oifer you at the moment, I should only have given you that ; but I had no choice, and gave you what was in my power.' " "That's fair enough; but what can make Brough so eager for such a small sum as three thousand pounds 1 " "If it had been ten, sir, he would have been not a bit more eager. You don't know the City of London, and the passion which our great men in the share-maxket have for increasing their connec- tion. Mr. Brough, sir, would canvass and wheedle a chimney-sweep in the way of business. See, here is poor Tidd and his twenty thousand pounds. Our Director has taken possession of him just in the same way. He wants all the capital he can lay his hands on." " Yes, and suppose he runs off with the capital ? " " Mr. • Brough, of the firm of Brough and Hoff, sir t Suppose the Bank of England runs off ! But here we are at the lodge-gate. Let's ask Gates, another of Mr. Brough's victims." And we went in and spoke to old Gates. "Well, Mr. Gates," says I, beginning the matter cleverly, "you are one of my masters, you know, at the West Diddlesex yonder ? " AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 55 "Yees, sure," says old Gates, grinning. He was a retired servant, with a large family come to him in his old age. " May I ask you what your wages are, Mr. Gates, that you can lay by so much money, and purchase shares in our Company 1 " Gates told us his wages ; and when we inquired whether they were paid regularly, swore that his master was the kindest gentle- man in the world : that he had put two of his daughters into service, two of his sons to charity schools, made one apprentice, and narrated a hundred other benefits that he had received from the family. Mrs. Brough clothed half the children ; master gave them blankets and coats in winter, and soup and meat all the year round. There never was such a generous family, sure, since the world began. "Well, sir," said I to the Captain, "does that satisfy you? Mr. Brough gives to these people fifty times as much as he gains from them ; and yet he makes Mr. Gates take shares in our Company." " Mr. Titmarsh," says the Captain, " you are an honest fellow ; and I confess your argument sounds well. Now tell me, do you know anything about Miss Brough and her fortune ? " " Brough will leave her everything — or says so." But I suppose the Captain saw some particular expression in my countenance, for he laughed and said — " I suppose, my dear fellow, you think she's dear at the price. Well, I don't know that you are far wrong." " Why, then, if I may make so bold. Captain Fizgig, are you always at her heels ? " "Mr. Titmarsh," says the Captain, "I owe twenty thousand pounds;" and he went back to the house directly, and proposed for her. I thought this rather cruel and unprincipled conduct on the gentleman's part ; for he had been introduced to the family by Mr. Tidd, with whom he had been at school, and had supplanted Tidd entirely in the great heiress's affections. Brough stormed, and actually swore at his daughter (as the Captain told me afterwards) when he heard that the latter had accepted Mr. Fizgig; and at last, seeing the Captain, made him give his word that the engage- ment should be kept secret for a few months. And Captain F. only made a confidant of me, and the mess, as he said : but this was after Tidd had paid his twenty thousand pounds over to our governor, which he did punctually when he came of age. The same day, too, he proposed for the young lady, and I need not say was rejected. Presently the Captain's engagement began to be whispered about : all his great relations, the Duke of Doncaster, the Earl of Cinqbars, the Earl of Crabs, &c., came and visited the Brough 5<5 THE HISTORY OP SAMUEL TITMARSH family; the Hon. Henry Ringwood became a shareholder in our Company, and the Earl of Crabs offered to be. Our shares rose to a premium ; our Director, his lady, and daughter were presented at Court ; and the great West Diddlesex Association bid fair to be the first Assurance Office in the kingdom. A very short time after my visit to Fulham, my dear aunt wrote to me to say that she had consulted with her attorneys, Messrs. Hodge and Smithers, who strongly recommended that she should invest the sum as I advised. She had the sum invested, too, in my name, paying me many compliments upon my honesty and talent ; of which, she said, Mr. Brough had given her the most flattering account. And at the same time my aunt informed me that at her death the shares should be my own. This gave me a great weight in the Company, as you may imagine. At our next annual meeting, I attended in my capacity as a shareholder, and had great pleasure in hearing Mr. Brough, in a magnificent speech, declare a dividend of six per cent., that we aU received over the counter. " You lucky young scoundrel ! " said Brough to me ; " do you know what made me give you your place ? " " Why, my aunt's money, to be sure, sir," said I. " No such thing. Do you fancy I cared for those paltry three thousand pounds ? I was told you were nephew of Lady Drum ; and Lady Drum is grandmother of Lady Jane Preston ; and Mr. Preston is a man who can do us a world of good. I knew that they had sent you venison, and the deuce knows what ; and when I saw Lady Jane at my party shake you by the hand, and speak to you so kindly, I took all Abednego's tales for gospel. That was the reason you got the place, mark you, and not on account of your miserable three thousand pounds. Well, sir, a fortnight after you were with us at Fulham, I met Preston in the House, and made a merit of having given the place to his cousin. 'Confound the insolent scoundrel ! ' said he ; ' Ae my cousin ! I suppose you take all old Drum's stories for true % Why, man, it's her mania : she never is introduced to a man but she finds out a cousinship, and would not fail of course with that cur of a Titmarsh ! ' ' Well,' said I, laughing, ' that cur has got a good place in consequence, and the matter can't be mended.' So you see," continued our Director, "that you were indebted for your place, not to your aunt's money, but " " But to MY aunt's diamond-pin ! " " Lucky rascal ! " said Brough, poking me in the side and going out of the way. And lucky, in faith, I thought I was. CHAPTER VIII RELATES THE HAPPIEST DAY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH'S LIFE I DON'T know how it was that in the course of the next six months Mr. Roundhand, the actuary, who had been such a profound admirer of Mr. Brough and the West Diddlesex Association, suddenly quarrelled with both, and taking his money out of the concern, he disposed of his £5000 worth of shares to a pretty good profit, and went away, speaking everything that was evil both of the Company and the Director. Mr. Highmore now became secretary and actuary, Mr. Abednego was first clerk, and your humble servant was second in the office at a salary of £250 a year. How unfoimded were Mr. Roundhand's aspersions of the West Diddlesex appeared quite clearly at our meeting in January 1823, when our Chief Director, in one of the most brilliant speeches ever heard, declared that the half-yearly dividend was £4 per cent., at the rate of £8 per cent, per annum ; and I sent to my aunt £120 sterling as the amount of the interest of the stock in my name. My excellent aunt, Mrs. Hoggarty, delighted beyond measure, sent me back £10 for my own pocket, and asked me if she had not better sell Slopperton and Squashtail, and invest all her money in this admirable concern. On this point I could not surely do better than ask the opinion of Mr. Brough. Mr. B. told me that shares could not be had but at a premium ; but on my representing that I knew of £5000 worth in the market at par, he said — " Well, if so, he would like a fair price for his, and would not mind disposing of £5000 worth, as he had rather a glut of West Diddlesex shares, and his other concerns wanted feeding with ready money." At the end of our conversation, of which I promised to report the purport to Mrs. Hoggarty, the Director was so kind as to say that he had determined on creating a place of private secretary to the Managing Director, and that I should hold that office with an additional salary of £150. I had £250 a year. Miss Smith had £70 per annum to her fortune. What had I said should be my line of conduct whenever I couH realise £300 a year 1 S8 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH Gus of course, and all the gents in our office through him, knew of my engagement with Mary Smith. Her father had been a com- mander in the navy and a very distinguished officer ; and though Mary, as I have said, only brought me a fortune of £70 a year, and I, as everybody said, in my present position in the office and the City of London, might have reasonably looked out for a lady with much more money, yet my fhends agreed that the connection was very respectable, and I was content : as who would not have been with such a darling as Mary"? I am sure, for my part, I would not have taken the Lord Mayor's own daughter in place of Mary, even with a plum to her fortune. Mr. Brough of course was made aware of my approaching marriage, as of everything else relating to every clerk in the office ; and I do believe Abednego told him what we had for dinner every day. Indeed, his knowledge of our affairs was wonderful. He asked me how Mary's money was invested. It was in the three per cent, consols — ^£2333, 6s. 8d. "Remember," says he, "my lad, Mrs. Sam Titmarsh that is to be may have seven per cent, for her money at the very least, and on better security than the Bank of England ; for is not a Company of which John Brough is the head better than any other company in England ? " and to be sure I thought he was not far wrong, and promised to speak to Mary's guardians on the subject before our marriage. Lieutenant Smith, her grandfather, had been at the first very much averse to our union. (I must confess that, one day finding me alone with her, and kissing, I believe, the tips of her little fingers, he had taken me by the collar and turned me out of doors.) But Sam Titmarsh, with a salary of £250 a year, a promised fortune of £150 more, and the right-hand man of Mr. John Brough of London, was a very different man from Sam the poor clerk, and the poor clergyman's widow's son ; and the old gentleman wrote me a kind letter enough, and begged me to get him six pairs of lamb's- wool stockings and four ditto waistcoats from Romanis', and accepted them too as a present from me when I went down in June — in happy June of 1823 — to fetch my dear Mary away. Mr. Brough was likewise kindly anxious about my aunt's Slopperton and Squashtail property, which she had not as yet sold, as she talked of doing; and, as Mr. B. represented, it was a sin and a shame that any person in whom he took such interest as he did in all the relatives of his dear young friend, should only have three per cent, for her money, when she could have eight elsewhere. He always called me Sam now, praised me to the other young men (who brought the praises regularly to me), said there was a cover always laid for me at Fulham, and repeatedly took me AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 59 thither. There was but little company when I went; and MWhirter used to say he only asked me on days when he had his vulgar acquaintances. But I did not care for the great people, not being bom in their sphere ; and indeed did not much care for going to the house at all. Miss Belinda was not at all to my liking. After her engagement with Captain Fizgig, and after Mr. Tidd had paid his £20,000, and Fizgig's great relations had joined in some of our Director's companies, Mr. Brough declared he believed that Captain Fizgig's views were mercenary, and put him to the proof at once, by saying that he must take Miss Brough without a farthing, or not have her at all. Whereupon Captain Fizgig got an appointment in the colonies, and Miss Brough became more iU-humoured than ever. But I could not help thinking she was rid of a bad bargain, and pitying poor Tidd, who came back to the charge again more love-sick than ever, and was rebuffed pitilessly by Miss Belinda. Her father plainly told Tidd, too, that his visits were disagreeable to Belinda, and though he must always love and value him, he begged him to discontinue his calls at the Rookery. Poor fellow ! he had paid his £20,000 away for nothing! for what was six per cent, to him compared to six per cent, and the hand of Miss Belinda Brough? Well, Mr. Brough pitied the poor love-sick swain, as he called me, so much, and felt such a warm sympathy in my weU-being, that he insisted on my going down to Somersetshire with a couple of months' leave ; and away I went, as happy as a lark, with a couple of brand-new suits from Von StUtz's in my trunk (I had them made, looking forward to a certain event), and inside the trunk Lieutenant Smith's fleecy hosiery ; wrapping up a parcel of our prospectuses and two letters from John Brough, Esq., to my mother our worthy annuitant, and to Mrs. Hoggarty our excellent shareholder. Mr. Brough said I was all that the fondest father could wish, that he considered me as his own boy, and that he earnestly begged Mrs. Hoggarty not to delay the sale of her little landed property, as land was high now and must fall ; whereas the West Diddlesex Associa- tion shares were (comparatively) low, and must inevitably, in the course of a year or two, double, treble, quadruple their present value. In this way I was prepared, and in this way I took leave of my dear Gus. As we parted in the yard of the " Bolt-in-Tun," Fleet Street, I felt that I never should go back to Salisbury Square again, and had made my little present to the landlady's family accordingly. She said I was the respectablest gentleman she had ever had in her house : nor was that saying much, for Bell Lane is in the Rules of the Fleet, and her lodgers used commonly to be prisoners on Rule from that place. As for Gus, the poor fellow cried and blubbered 6o THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH so that he could not eat a morsel of the muifliis and grilled ham with which I treated him for breakfast in the " Bolt-in-Tun " coffee-house; and when I went away was waving his hat and his handkerchief so in the archway of the coach-office that I do believe the wheels of the " True Blue " went over his toes, for I heard him roaring as we passed through the arch. Ah ! how different were my feelings as I sat proudly there on the box by the side of Jim Ward, the coach- man, to those I had the last time I mounted that coach, parting from my dear Mary and coming to London with my diamond-pin ! When arrived near home (at Grumpley, three miles from our village, where the " True Blue " generally stops to take a glass of ale at the Poppleton Arms) it was as if our Member, Mr. Poppleton himself, was come into the country, so great was the concourse of people assembled round the inn. And there was the landlord of the inn and all the people of the village. Then there was Tom Wheeler, the post-boy, from Mrs, Rincer's posting-hotel in our town ; he was riding on the old bay posters, and they, Heaven bless us ! were drawing my aunt's yellow chariot, in which she never went out but thrice in a year, and in which she now sat in her splendid cashmere shawl and a new hat and feather. She waved a white handkerchief out of the window, and Tom Wheeler shouted out " Huzza ! " as did a number of the little blackguard boys of Grumpley : who, to be sure, would huzza for anything. What a change on Tom Wheeler's part, however ! I remembered only a few years before how he had whipped me from the box of the chaise, as I was hanging on for a ride behind. Next to my aunt's carriage came the four-wheeled chaise of Lieutenant Smith, R.N., who W£is driving his old fat pony with his lady by his side. I looked in the back seat of the chaise, and felt a little sad at seeing that Somebody was not there. But, silly fellow ! there was Somebody in the yellow chariot with my aunt, blushing like a peony, I declare, and looking so happy ! — oh, so happy and pretty ! She had a white dress, and a light blue and yellow scarf, which my aunt said were the Hoggarty colours ; though what the Hoggartys had to do with light blue and yellow, I don't know to this day. Well, the "True Blue" guard made a great bellowing on his horn as his four horses dashed away ; the boys shouted again ; I was placed bodkin between Mrs. Hoggarty and Mary ; Tom Wheeler cut into his bays ; the Lieutenant (who had shaken me cordially by the hand, and whose big dog did not make the slightest attempt at biting me this time) beat his pony till its fat sides lathered again ; and thus in this, I may say, unexampled procession, I arrived ill triumph at our village. AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 6i My dear mother and the girls, — Heaven bless them ! — nine of them in their nankeen spencers (I had something pretty in my trunk for each of them) — could not afford a carriage, but had posted them- selves on the road near the village ; and there was such a waving of hands and handkerchiefs : and though my aunt did not much notice them, except by a majestic toss of the head, which is pardonable in a woman of her property, yet Mary Smith did even more than I, and waved her hands as much as the whole nine. All ! how my dear mother cried and blessed me when we met, and called me her soul's comfort and her darling boy, and looked at me as if I were a paragon of virtue and genius : whereas I was only a very lucky young fellow, that by the aid of kind friends had stepped rapidly into a very pretty property. I was not to stay with my mother, — that had been arranged beforehand ; for though she and Mrs. Hoggarty were not remarkably good friends, yet mother said it was for my benefit that I should stay with my aunt, and so gave up the pleasure of having me with her : and though hers was much the himibler house of the two, I need not say I preferred it far to Mrs. Hoggarty's more splendid one ; let alone the horrible RosoUo, of which I was obliged now to drink gallons. It was to Mrs. H.'s then we were driven : she had prepared a great dinner that evening, and hired an extra waiter, and on getting out of the carriage, she gave a sixpence to Tom Wheeler, saying that was for himself, and that she would settle with Mrs. Rincer for the horses afterwards. At which Tom flung the sixpence upon the ground, swore most violently, and was very justly called by my aunt an " impertinent fellow." She had taken such a liking to me that she would hardly bear me out of her sight. We used to sit for morning after morning over her accounts, debating for hours together the propriety of selling the Slopperton property ; but no arrangement was come to yet about it, for Hodge and Smithers could not get the price she wanted. And, moreover, she vowed that at her decease she would leave every shilling to me. Hodge and Smithers, too, gave a grand party, and treated me with marked consideration ; as did every single person of the village. Those who could not afford to give dinners gave teas, and all drank the health of the young couple ; and many a time after dinner or supper was my Mary made to blush by the allusions to the change in her condition. The happy day for that ceremony was now fixed, and the 24th July 1823 saw me the happiest husband of the prettiest girl in Somersetshire. We were married from my mother's house, who 62 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH would insist upon that at any rate, and the nine girls acted as bridesmaids ; ay ! and Gus Hoskins came from town express to be my groomsman, and had my old room at my mother's, and stayed with her for a week, and cast a sheep's-eye upon Miss Winny Tit- marsh too, my dear fourth sister, as I afterwards learned. My aunt was very kind upon the marriage ceremony, indeed. She had desired me some weeks previous to order three magnificent dresses for Mary from the celebrated Madame Mantalini of London, and some elegant trinkets and embroidered pocket-handkerchiefs from Howell and James's. These were sent down to me, and were to be my present to the bride ; but Mrs. Hoggarty gave me to understand that I need never trouble myself about the payment of the bill, and I thought her conduct very generous. Also she lent us her chariot for the wedding journey, and made with her own hands a beautiful crimson satin reticule for Mrs. Samuel Titmarsh, her dear niece. It contained a huswife completely furnished with needles, &c., for she hoped Mrs. Titmarsh would never neglect her needle; and a purse containing some silver pennies, and a very curious pocket-piece. " As long as you keep these, my dear," said Mrs. Hoggarty, " you wiU never want ; and fervently — fervently do I pray that you will keep them.'' In the carriage-pocket we found a paper of biscuits and a bottle of Rosolio. We laughed at this, and made it over to Tom Wheeler — who, however, did not seem to like it much better than we. I need not say I was married in Mr. Von Stiltz's coat (the third and fourth coats, Heaven help us ! in a year), and that I wore sparkling in my bosom the Geeat Hoggarty Diamond. CHAPTER IX BRINGS BACK SAM, HIS mPE, AUNT, AND DIAMOND, TO LONDON WE pleased ourselves during the honeymoon with forming plans for our life in London, and a pretty paradise did we buUd for ourselves ! Well, we were but forty years old between us ; and, for my part, I never found any harm come of castle-building, but a great deal of pleasure. Before I left London I had, to say the truth, looked round me for a proper place, befitting persons of our small income ; and Gus Hoskins and I, who hunted after office-hours in couples, had fixed on a very snug little cottage in Camden Town, where there was a garden that certain small people might play in when they came : a horse and gig-house, if ever we kept one, — and why not, in a few years? — and a fine healthy air, at a reasonable distance from 'Change; all for £30 a year. I had described this little spot to Mary as enthusiastically as Sancho describes Lizias to Don Quixote ; and my dear wife was delighted with the prospect of housekeeping there, vowed she would cook all the best dishes herself (especially jam-pudding, of which I confess I am very fond), and promised Gus that he should dine with us at Clematis Bower every Sunday : only he must -not smoke those horrid cigars. As for Gus, he vowed he would have a room in the neighbourhood too, for he could not bear to go back to Bell Lane, where we two had been so happy together ; and so good-natured Mary said she would ask my sister Winny to come and keep her company. At which Hoskins blushed, and said, " Pooh ! nonsense now." But all our hopes of a happy snug Clematis Lodge were dashed to the ground on our return from our little honeymoon excursion ; when Mrs, Hoggarty informed us that she was sick of the country, and was determined to go to London with her dear nephew and niece, and keep house for them, and introduce them to her friends in the metropolis. What could we do? We wished her at — Bath: certainly not in London. But there was no help for it ; and we were obliged to bring her : for, as my mother said, if we ofiended her, her fortune 64 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH would go out of our family ; and were we two young people not likely to want it ? So we came to town rather dismally in the carriage, posting the whole way ; for the carriage must be brought, and a person of my aunt's rank in life could not travel by the stage. And I had to pay £14 for the posters, which pretty nearly exhausted all my little hoard of cash. First we went into lodgings, — into three sets in three weeks. We quarrelled with the first landlady, because my aunt vowed that she cut a slice off the leg of mutton which was served for our dinner ; from the second lodgings we went because aunt vowed the maid would steal the candles ; from the third we went because Aunt Hoggarty came down to breakfast the morning after our arrival with her face shockingly swelled and bitten by — never mind what. To cut a long tale short, I was half mad with the continual choppings and changings, and the long stories and scoldings of my aunt. As for her great acquaintances, none of them were in London ; and she made it a matter of quarrel with me that I had not intro- duced her to John Brough, Esquire, M.P., and to Lord and Lady Tiptoff, her relatives. Mr. Brough was at Brighton when we arrived in town ; and on his return I did not care at first to teU our Director that I had brought my aunt with me, or mention my embarrassments for money. He looked rather serious when perforce I spoke of the latter to him and asked for an advance; but when he heard that my lack of money had been occasioned by the bringing of my aunt to London, his tone instantly changed. " That, my dear boy, alters the question ; Mrs. Hoggarty is of an age when all things must be yielded to her. Here are a hundred pounds ; and I beg you to draw upon me whenever you are in the least in want of money." This gave me breathing-time until she should pay her share of the household expenses. And the very next day Mr. and Mrs. John Brough, in their splendid carriage-and-four, called upon Mrs. Hoggarty and my wife at our lodgings in Lamb's Conduit Street. It was on the very day when my poor aunt appeared with her face in that sad condition; and she did not fail to inform Mrs. Brough of tlie cause, and to state that at Castle Hoggarty, or at her country place in Somersetshire, she had never heard or thought of such vile odious things. " Gracious heavens ! " shouted John Brough, Esquire, " a lady of your rank to suffer in this way ! — the excellent relative of my dear boy, Titmarsh ! Never, madam — never let it be said that Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty should be subject to such horrible humiliation, while John Brough has a home to offer her. AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 65 — a humble, happy, Christian home, madam; though unlike, perhaps, the splendour to which you have been accustomed in the course of your distinguished career. Isabella my love ! — BeKnda ! speak to Mrs. Hoggarty. Tell her that John Brough's house is hers from garret to cellar. I repeat it, madam, from garret to cellar. I desire — I insist — I order, that Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty's trunks should be placed this instant in my carriage ! Have the goodness to look to them yourself, Mrs. Titmarsh, and see that your dear aunt's comforts are better provided for than they have been." Mary went away rather wondering at this order. But, to be sure, Mr. Brough was a great man, and her Samuel's benefactor; and though the siUy cMld absolutely began to cry as she packed and toiled at aunt's enormous vaKses, yet she performed the work, and came down with a smiling face to my aunt, who was entertaining Mr. and Mrs. Brough with a long and particular account of the balls at the Castle, in Dublin, in Lord Charleville's time. " I have packed the trunks, aunt, but I am not strong enough to bring them down," said Mary. "Certainly not, certainly not,'' said John Brough, perhaps a little ashamed. " Hallo ! George, Frederic, Augustus, come up- stairs this instant, and bring down the tnmks of Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty, which this young lady wiU show you." Nay, so great was Mr. Brough's condescension, that when some of his fashionable servants refused to meddle with the trunks, he himself seized a pair of them with both hands, carried them to the carriage, and shouted loud enough for all Lamb's Conduit Street to hear, " John Brough is not proud — no, no ; and if his footmen are too high and mighty, he'U show them a lesson of humility." Mrs. Brough w^as for running downstairs too, and taking the trunks from her husband ; but they were too heavy for her, so she contented herself with sitting on one, and asking all persons who passed her, whether John Brough was not an angel of a man ? In this way it was that my aunt left us. I was not aware of her departure, for I was at the oifice at the time ; and strolling back at five with Gus, saw my dear Mary smiling and bobbing from the window, and beckoning to us both to come up. This I thought was very strange, because Mrs. Hoggarty could not abide Hoskins, and indeed had told me repeatedly that either she or he must quit the house. Well, we went upstairs, and there was Mary, who had dried her tears and received us with the most smiling of faces,, and laughed and clapped her hands, and danced, and shook Gus's hand. And what do you think the little rogue proposed 1 I am blest if she did not say she would like to go to Vauxhall ! As dinner was laid for three persons only, Gus took his seat 3 E 66 THE HISTORY OP SAMUEL TITMAESH with fear and trembling ; and then Mrs. Sam Titmarsh related tht circumstances which had occurred, and how Mrs. Hoggarty had been whisked away to Pulham in Mr. Brough's splendid carriage- and-four. " Let her go," I am sorry to say, said I ; and indeed we relished our veal-cutlets and jam-pudding a great deal more than Mrs. Hoggarty did her dinner ojff plate at the Eookery. We had a very merry party to Vauxhall, Gus insisting on standing treat; and you may be certain that my aunt, whose absence was prolonged for three weeks, was heartily welcome to remain away, for we were much merrier and more comfortable with- out her. My little Mary used to make my breakfast before I went to office of mornings ; and on Sundays we had a holiday, and saw the dear little children eat their boiled beef and potatoes at the Foundling, and heard the beautiful music : but, beautiful as it is, i think the children were a more beautiful sight still, and the look of their innocent happy faces was better than the best sermon. On week-days Mrs. Titmarsh would take a walk about five o'clock in the evening on the left-himd side of Lamb's Conduit Street (as you go to Holbom) — ay, and sometimes pursue her walk as far as Snow Hill, when two young gents from the I. W. D. Fire and Life were pretty sure to meet her ; and then how happily we all trudged oflf to dinner ! Once we came up as a monster of a man, with high heels and a gold-headed cane, and whiskers all over his face, was grinning under Mary's bonnet, and chattering to her, close to Day and Martin's Blacking Manufactory (not near such a handsome thing then as it is now) — there was the man chattering and ogling his best, when who should come up but Gus and 1 1 And in the twinkling of a pegpoat, as Lord Duberley says, my gentleman was seized by the coUar of his coat and found himself sprawling under a stand of hackney-coaches ; where aU the watermen were grinning at him. The best of it was, he left his head of hair and whiskers in my hand : but Mary said, " Don't be hard upon him, Samuel ; it's only a Frenchman." And so we gave him his wig back, which one of the grinning stable-boys put on and carried to him as he lay in the straw. He shrieked out something about " arrStez," and " Fran9ais," and " champ-d'honneur ; " but we walked on, Gus putting his thumb to his nose and stretching out his finger at Master Frenchman. This made everybody laugh ; and so the adventure ended. About ten days after my aitat's departure came a letter from her, of which I give a copy : — " My deae Nephew, — It was my earnest whish e'er this to have returned to London, where I am sure you and my niece Tit- AND THE GEEAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 67 marsh miss me very much, and where she, poor thing, quite inexperienced in the ways of 'the great metropulus,' in aconamy, and indeed in every qualaty requasit in a good wife and the mistress of a famaly, can hardly manidge, I am sure, without me. " Tell her on no aecovmt to pay more than 6Jd. for the prime pieces, 4|d. for soup meat ; and that the very best of London butter is to be had for 8^d. ; of course, for pudns and the kitchin you'U employ a commoner sort. My trunks were sadly packed by Mrs. Titmarsh, and the hasp of the portmantyou-lock has gone through my yellow satn. I have darned it, and wear it already twice, at two eUygant (though quiat) evening-parties given by my fiospatable host ; and my pegreen velvet on Saturday at a grand dinner, when Lord Scaramouch handed me to table. Everything was in the most sumptions style. Soup top and bottom (white and brown), removed by turbit and sammon with immense boles of lobster-sauce. Lobsters alone cost 15s. Turbit, three guineas. The hole sammon weigh- ing, I'm sure, 15 lbs., and never seen at table again ; not a bitt of pickled sammon the hole weak afterwards. Tliis kind of extravi- gance would jm« suit Mrs. Sam Titmarsh, who, as I always say, bums the candle at both ends. Well, young people, it is lucky for you you have an old aunt who knows better, and has a long purse ; without witch, I dare say, some folks would be glad to see her out of doors. I don't mean you, Samuel, who have, I must say, been a dutiful nephew to me. Well, I dare say I shan't live long, and some folks won't be sony to have me in my grave. " Indeed, on Sunday I was taken in my stomick very ill, and thought it might have been the lobster-sauce ; but Doctor Blogg, who was called in, said it was, he very much feared, cvMiswmptive ; but gave me some piUs and a draft w'' made me better. Please call upon him — he lives at Pimlico, and you can walk out there after office hours — and present him with £1 Is., with my compliments. I have no money here but a ^610 note, the rest being locked up in my box at Lamb's Cundit Street. "Although the flesh is not neglected in Mr. B.'s sumptious establishment, I can assure you the sperrit is likewise cared for. . Mr. B. reads and igspounds every morning ; and but his exorcises refresh the hungry sole before breakfast! Everything is in the handsomest style, — silver and goold plate at breakfast, lunch, and dinner; and his crest and motty, a beehive, with the Latn word Indusbria, meaning industry, on everything — even on the chany juggs and things in my beddroom. On Sunday we were favoured by a special outpouring from the Rev. Grimes Wapshot, of the Amabaptist Congrigation here, and who egshorted for 3 hours in the afternoon in Mr. B.'s private chapel. As the widow of a 68 THE HISTORY OP SAMUEL TITMARSH Hoggarty, I have always been a staunch supporter of the established Church of England and Ireland ; but I must say Mr. Wapshot's stin-ing way was far superior to that of the Rev. Bland Blenkinsop of the Establishment, who lifted up his voice after dinner for a short discourse of two hours. "Mrs. Brough is, between ourselves, a poor creature, and has no sperrit of her own. As for Miss B., she is so saucy that once I promised to box her years ; and would have left the house, had not Mr. B. taken my part, and Miss made me a suitable apoUogy. " I don't know when I shall return to town, being made really so welcome here. Dr. Blogg says the air of Eulham is the best in the world for my simtums ; and as the ladies of the house do not choose to walk out with me, the Rev. Grimes Wapshot has often been kind enough to lend me His arm, and 'tis sweet with such a guide to wander both to Putney and Wandsworth, and igsamin the wonderful works of nature. I have spoke to him about the Slopperton property, and he is not of Mr. B.'s opinion that I should sell it ; but on this point I shall follow my own counsel. " Meantime you must gett into more comfortable lodgings, and lett my bedd be warmed every night, and of rainy days have a fire in the grate : and let Mrs. Titmarsh look up my bine silk dress, and turn it against I come ; and there is my purple spencer she can have for herself; and I hope she does not wear those three splendid gowns you gave her, but keep them until better times. I shall soon introduse her to my friend Mr. Brough, and others of my acquaint- ances ; and am always. Your loving Aunt. " I have ordered a chest of the Rosoho to be sent from Somer- setshire. When it comes, please to send half down here (paying the carriage, of course). 'Twill be an acceptable present to my kind entertainer, Mr. B." This letter was brought to me by Mr. Brough himself at the office, who apologised to me for having broken the seal by inadvert- ence ; for the letter had been mingled with some more of his own, and he opened it without looking at the superscription. Of course he had not read it, and I was glad of that ; for I should not have liked him to see my aunt's opinion of his daughter and lady. The next day, a gentleman at " Tom's Ooffee-house," Oomhill, sent me word at the office that he wanted particularly to speak to me : and I stepped thither, and found my old friend Smithers, of the house of Hodge and Smithers, just off the coach, with his carpet-bag between his legs. " Sam, my boy," said he, " you are your aunt's heir, and I have AND THE GKEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 6g a piece of news for you regarding her property which you ought to know. She wrote us down a letter for a chest of that home-made wine of hers which she calls Rosolio, and which lies in our ware- house along with her furniture." " Well," says I, smiling, " she may part with as much Rosolio as she likes for me. I cede all my right." "Psha!" says Smithers, "it's not that; though her furniture puts us to a deuced inconvenience, to be sure — ^it's not that : but, in the postscript of her letter, she orders us to advertise the Slopperton and Squashtail estates for immediate sale, as she purposes placing her capital elsewhere." I knew that the Slopperton and Squashtail property had been the source of a very pretty income to Messrs. Hodge and Smithers, for aunt was always at law with her tenants, and paid dearly for her litigious spirit; so that Mr. Smithers's concern regarding the sale of it did not seem to me to be quite disinterested. "And did you come to London, Mr. Smithers, expressly to acquaint me with this fact ? It seems to me you had much better have obeyed my aunt's instructions at once, or go to her at FuUiam, and consult with her on this subject." " 'Sdeath, Mr. Titmarsh ! don't you see that if she makes a sale of her property, she will hand over the money to Brough ; and if Brough gets the money, he " " Will give her seven per cent, for it instead of three, — there's no harm in that." " But there's such a thing as security, look you. He is a warm man, certainly — very warm — quite respectable — most undoubtedly respectable. But who knows 1 A panic may take place ; and then these five himdred companies in which he is engaged may bring him to ruin. There's the Ginger Beer Company, of which Brough is a director : awkward reports are abroad concerning it. The Consoli- dated Baffin's Bay Muff and Tippet Company — the shares are down very low, and Brough is a director there. The Patent Pump Com- pany — shares at 65, and a fresh caU, which nobody will pay." " Nonsense, Mr. Smithers ! Has not Mr. Brough five hundred thousand pounds' worth of shares in the Independent West DiDDLESEX, and is that at a discount? Who recommended my aunt to invest her money in that speculation, I should like to know ? " I had him there. " Well, well, it is a very good speculation, certainly, and has brought you three hundi-ed a year, Sam, my boy ; and you may thank us for the interest we took in you (indeed, we loved you as a son, and Miss Hodge has not recovered a certain marriage yet). You don't intend to rebuke us for making your fortxme, do you?" 70 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH "No, hang it, no!" says I, and shook hands with him, and accepted a glass of sherry and biscuits, which he ordered forthwith. Smithers returned, however, to the charge. "Sam," he said, " mark my words, and tahe yow avmt away from the Roohery. She wrote to Mrs. S. a long account of a reverend gent with whom she walks out there,— the Reverend Grimes Wapshot. That man has an eye upon her. He was tried at Lancaster in the year '14 for forgery, and narrowly escaped with his neck. Have a care of him — he has an eye to her money." "Nay," said I, taking out Mrs. Hoggarty's letter: "read for yourself." Ho read it over very carefully, seemed to be amused by it ; and as he returned it to me, " Well, Sam," he said, " I have only two favours to ask of you : one is, not to mention that I am in town to any living soul ; and the other is, to give me a dinner in Lamb's Conduit Street with your pretty wife." " I promise you both gladly," I said, laughing. " But if you dine with us, your arrival in town must be known, for my friend Gus Hoskins dines with us likewise ; and has done so nearly every day since my aunt went." He laughed too, and said, " We must swear Gus to secrecy over a bottle." And so we parted till dinner-time. The indefatigable lawyer pursued his attack after dinner, and was supported by Gus and by my wife too; who certainly was disinterested in the matter — more than disinterested, for she would have given a great deal to be spared my aunt's company. But she said she saw the force of Mr. Smithers's arguments, and I admitted their justice with a sigh. However, I rode my high horse, and vowed that my aunt should do what she liked with her money ; and that I was not the man who would influence her in any way in the disposal of it. After tea the two gents walked away together, and Gus told me that Smithers had asked him a thousand questions about the office, about Brough, about me and my wife, and everything con- cerning us. "You are a lucky fellow, Mr. Hoskins, and seem to be the friend of this charming young couple," said Smithers ;. and Gus confessed he was, and said he had dined with us fifteen times in six weeks, and that a better and more hospitable fellow than I did not exist. This I state not to trumpet my own praises, — no, no ; but because these questions of Smithers's had a good deal to do with the subsequent events narrated in this little history. Being seated at dinner the next day off the cold leg of mutton that Smithers had admired so the day before, and Gus as usual having his legs under our mahogany, a hackney-coach drove up to AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 71 the door, which we did not much heed; a step was heard on the floor, which we hoped might be for the two-pair lodger, when who should burst into the room but Mrs. Hoggarty herself ! Gus, who was blowing the froth off a pot of porter preparatory to a delicious drink of the beverage, and had been making us die of laughing with his stories and jokes, laid down the pewter pot as Mrs. H. came in, and looked quite sick and pale. Indeed we all felt a little uneasy. My aunt looked haughtily in Mary's face, then fiercely at Gus, and saying, " It is too true — my poor boy — already 1 " flung her- self hysterically into my arms, and swore, almost choking, that she would never never leave me. I could not understand the meaning of this extraordinary agita- tion on Mrs. Hoggarty's part, nor could any of us. She refused Mary's hand when the poor thing rather nervously offered it ; and when Gus timidly said, " I think, Sam, I'm rather in the way here, and perhaps — had better go," Mrs. H. looked him fiill in the face, pointed to the door majestically with her forefinger, and said, " I think, sir, you had better go." " I hope Mr. Hoskins will stay as long as he pleases," said my wife, with spirit. " Of course you hope so, madam," answered Mrs. Hoggarty, very sarcastic. But Mary's speech and my aunt's were quite lo?t upon Gus ; for he had instantly run to his hat, and I heard him tumbling downstairs. The quarrel ended, as usual, by Mary's bursting into a fit of tears, and by my aunt's repeating the assertion that it was not too late, she trusted ; and from that day forth she would never never leave me. " What could have made aunt return and be so angry ? " said I to Mary that night, as we were in our own room ; but my wife pro- tested she did not know : and it was only some time after that I found out the reason of this quarrel, and of Mrs. H.'s sudden reappearance. The horrible fat coarse little Smithers told me the matter as a very good joke, only the other year, when he showed me the letter of Hickson, Dixon, Paxton and Jackson, which has before been quoted in my Memoirs. "Sam, my boy," said he, "you were determined to leave Mrs. Hoggarty in Brough's clutches at the Rookery, and I was deter- mined to have her away. I resolved to kill two of your mortal enemies with one stone as it were. It was quite clear to me that the Reverend Grimes Wapshot had an eye to your aunt's fortune ; and that Mr. Brough had similar predatory intentions regarding her. Predatory is a mild word, Sam : if I had said robbery at once, I should express my meaning clearer. 72 THE HISTOEY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH "Well, I took the Pulham stage, and arriving, made straight for the lodgings of the reverend gentleman. 'Sir,' said I, on finding that worthy gent, — he was drinking warm brandy-and- water, Sam, at two o'clock in the day, or at least the room smelt very strongly of that beverage — ' Sir,' says I, ' you were tried for forgery in the year '14, at Lancaster assizes.' " ' And acquitted, sir. My innocence was by Providence made clear,' said Wapshot. " ' But you were not acquitted of embezzlement in '16, sir,' says I, ' and passed two years in York Gaol in consequence.' I knew the fellow's history, for I had a writ out against him when he was a preacher at Clifton. I followed up my blow. ' Mr. Wapshot,' said I, ' you are making love to an excellent lady now at the house of Mr. Brough : if you do not promise to give up all pursuit of her, I will expose you.' " ' I have promised,' said Wapshot, rather surprised, and looking more easy. 'I have given my solemn promise to Mr. Brough, who was with me this very morning, storming, and scolding, and swearing. Oh, sir, it would have frightened you to hear a Christian babe like him swear as he did.' " ' Mr. Brough been here ? ' says I, rather astonished. '"Yes; I suppose you are both here on the same scent,' says Wapshot. 'You want to marry the widow with the Slopperton and Squashtail estate, do you'? Well, well, have your way. I've promised not to have anything more to do with the widow, and a Wapshot's honour is sacred.' " ' I suppose, sir,' says I, ' Mr. Brough has threatened to kick you out of doors, if you call again.' " 'You have been with him, I see,' says the reverend gent, with a shrug : then I remembered what you had told me of the broken seal of your letter, and have not the slightest doubt that Brough opened and read every word of it. " Well, the first bird was bagged : both I and Brough had had a shot at him. Now I had to fire at the whole Eookery ; and off I went, primed and loaded, sir, — primed and loaded. " It was past eight when I arrived, and I saw, after I passed the lodge-gates, a figure that I knew, walking in the shrubbery — that of your respected aunt, sir : but I wished to meet the amiable ladies of the house before I saw her ; because look, friend Titmarsh, I saw by Mrs. Hoggarty's letter, that she and they were at daggers drawn, and hoped to get her out of the house at once by means of a quarrel with them." I laughed, and owned that Mr, Smithers was a very cunning fellow AND THE GEEAT HOGaARTY DIAMOND 73 " As luck would have it," continued he, " Miss Brough was in the drawing-room twangling on a guitar, and singing most atrociously out of tune ; but as I entered at the door, I cried ' Hush ! ' to the footman, as loud as possible, stood stock-stiU, and then walked forward on tiptoe lightly. Miss B. could see in the glass every movement that I made; she pretended not to see, however, and finished the song with a regular roulade. " ' Gracious Heaven ! ' said I, ' do, madam, pardon me for interrupting that delicious harmony, — for coming unaware upon it, — for daring uninvited to listen to it.' " ' Do you come for mamma, sir ? ' said Miss Brough, with as much graciousness as her physiognomy could command. 'I am Miss Brough, sir.' " ' I wish, madam, you would let me not breathe a word regard ing my business until you have sung another charming strain.' " She did not sing, but looked pleased, and said, ' La ! sir, what is your business ? ' " ' My business is with a lady, your respected father's guest in this house.' "'Oh, Mrs. Hoggarty!' says Miss Brough, flouncing towards the bell, and ringing it. 'John, send to Mrs. Hoggarty, in the shrubbery; here is a gentleman who wants to see her.' " ' I know,' continued I, ' Mrs. Hoggarty's peculiarities as well as any one, madam ; and aware that those and her education are not such as to make her a fit companion for you. I know you do not like her : she has written to us in Somersetshire that you do not like her.' " ' What ! she has been abusing us to her friends, has she ? ' cried Miss Brough (it was the very point I wished to insinuate). ' If she does not like us, why does she not leave us 1 ' " ' She has made rather a long visit,' said I ; ' and I am sure that her nephew and niece are longing for her return. Pray, madam, do not move, for you may aid me in the object for which I come.' " The object for which I came, sir, was to estabhsh a regular battle-royal between the two ladies ; at the end of which I intended to appeal to Mrs. Hoggarty, and say that she ought really no longer to stay in a house with the members of which she had such unhappy differences. Well, sir, the battle-royal was fought, — Miss Belinda opening the fire, by saying she understood Mrs. Hoggarty had been calumniating her to her friends. But though at the end of it Miss rushed out of the room in a rage, and vowed she would leave her home unless that odious woman left it, your dear aunt said, ' Ha, ha ! I know the minx's vile stratagems ; but, thank Heaven ! I have 74 THE HISTORY OP SAMUEL TITMARSH a good heart, and my religion enables me to forgive her. I shall not leave her excellent papa's house, or vex by my departure that worthy admirable man.' "I then tried Mrs. H. on the score of compassion. 'Your niece,' said I, ' Mrs. Titmarsh, madam, has been of late, Sam says, rather poorly, — qualmish of mornings, madam, — a little nervous, and low in spirits, — symptoms, madam, that are scarcely to be mistaken in a young married person.' "Mrs. Hoggaxty said she had an admirable cordial that she would send Mrs. Samuel Titmarsh, and she was perfectly certain it would do her good. " With very great unwillingness I was obliged now to bring my last reserve into the field, and may tell you what that was, Sam, my boy, now that the matter is so long passed. ' Madam,' said I, 'there's a matter about which I must speak, though indeed I scarcely dare. I dined with your nephew yesterday, and met at his table a young man — a young man of low manners, but evidently one who has blinded your nephew, and I too much fear has suc- ceeded in making an impression upon your niece. His name is HosMns, madam ; and when I state that he who was never in the house during your presence there, has dined with your too confiding nephew sixteen times in three weeks, I may leave you to imagine what I dare not — dare not imagine myself.' "The shot told. Your aunt bounced up at once, and in ten minutes more was in my carriage, on our way back to London. There, sir, was not that generalship ? " " And you played this pretty trick off at my wife's expense, Mr. Smithers," said I. " At your wife's expense, certainly ; but for the benefit of both of you." " It's lucky, sir, that you are an old man," I replied, " and that the affair happened ten years ago; or, by the Lord, Mr. Smithers, I would have given you such a horsewhipping as you never heard of ! " But this was the way in which Mrs. Hoggarty was brought back to her relatives ; and this was the reason why we took that house in Bernard Street, the doings at which must now be described. CHAPTER X OF SAM'S PRIVATE AFFAIRS, AND OF THE FIRM OF BROUGH AND HOFF WE took a genteel house in Bernard Street, Eussell Square, and my aunt sent for all her furniture from the country ; which would have filled two such houses, but which came pretty cheap to us young housekeepers, as we had only to pay the carriage of the goods from Bristol. When I brought Mrs. H. her third half-year's dividend, having not for four months touched a shilling of her money, I must say she gave me £50 of the £80, and told me that was ample pay for the board and lodging of a poor old woman like her, who did not eat more than a sparrow. I have myself, in the country, seen her eat nine sparrows in a pudding ; but she was rich, and I could not complain. If she saved £600 a year, at the least, by living with us, why, all the savings would one day come to me ; and so Mary and I consoled ourselves, and tried to manage matters as well as we might. It was no easy task to keep a mansion in Bernard Street and save money out of £470 a year, which was my income. But what a lucky fellow I was to have such an income ! As Mrs. Hoggarty left the Eookery in Smithers's carriage, Mr. Brough, with his four greys, was entering the lodge-gate; and I should like to have seen the looks of these two gentlemen, as the one was carrjdng the other's prey off, out of his own very den, under his very nose. He came to see her the next day, and protested that he would not leave the house until she left it with him : that he had heard of his daughter's infamous conduct, and had seen her in tears — " in tears, madam, and on her knees, imploring Heaven to pardon her ! " But Mr. B. was obliged to leave the house without my aunt, who had a causa major for staying, and hardly allowed poor Mary out of her sight, — opening every one of the letters that came into the house directed to my wife, and suspecting hers to everybody. Mary never told me of all this pain for many many years afterwards ; but had always a smiling face for her husband when he came home from 76 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH his work. As for poor Gus, my aunt had so frightened him, that he never once showed his nose in the place all the time we lived there ; but used to be content with news of Mary, of whom he was as fond as he was of me. Mr. Brough, when my aunt left him, was in a furious ill-humour with me. He found fault with me ten times a day, and openly, before the gents of the office ; but I let him one day know pretty smartly that I was not only a servant, but a considerable share- holder in the Company ; that I defied him to find fault with my work or my regularity ; and that I was not minded to receive any insolent language from him or any man. He said it was always so : that he had never cherished a young man in his bosom, but the ingrate had turned on him ; that he was accustomed to wrong and undutifiilness from his children, and that he would pray that the sin might be forgiven me. A moment before he had been cursing and swearing at me, and speaking to me as if I had been his shoe- black. But, look you, I was not going to put up with any more of Madam Brough's airs, or of his. With me they might act as they thought fit; but I did not choose that my wife should be passed over by them, as she had been in the matter of the visit to Pulham. Brough ended by warning me of Hodge and Smithers. " Beware of these men," said he ; " but for my honesty, your aunt's landed property would have been sacrificed by these cormorants : and when, for her benefit — which you, obstinate young man, will not perceive ■ — I wished to dispose of her land, her attorneys actually had the audacity — the unchristian avarice I may say — to ask ten per cent, commission on the sale." There might be some truth m this, I thought : at any rate, when rogues fall out, honest men come by their own : and now I began to suspect, I am sorry to say, that both the attorney and the Director had a little of the rogue in their composition. It was especially about my wife's fortune that Mr. B. showed his cloven foot : for proposing, as usual, that I should purchase shares with it in our Company, I told him that my wife was a minor, and as such her little fortune was vested out of my control altogether. He flung away in a rage at this ; and I soon saw that he did not care for me any more, by Abednego's manner to me. No more holidays, no more advances of money, had I : on the contrary, the private clerk- ship at £150 was abolished, and I found myself on my £250 a year again. Well, what then ? it was always a good income, and I did my duty, and laughed at the Director. About this time, in the beginning of 1824, the Jamaica Ginger Beer Company shut up shop — exploded, as Gus said, with a bang ! AND THE GKEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 77 The Patent Pump shares were down to £15 upon a paid-up capital of £65. Still ours were at a high premium ; and the Independent West Diddlesex held its head up as proudly as any office in London. Eoundhand's abuse had had some influence against the Director, certainly ; for he hinted at malversation of shares : but the Company stiU stood as united as the Hand-in-Hand, and as firm as the Eock. To return to the state of afiairs in Bernard Street, Eussell Square : my aimt's old furniture crammed our little rooms ; and my aunt's enormous old jingling grand piano, with crooked legs and half the strings broken, occupied three-fourths of the little drawing- room. Here used Mrs. H. to sit, and play us, for hours, sonatas that were in fashion in Lord OharleviUe's time ; and sung with a cracked voice, till it was all that we could do to refrain irom laughing. And it was queer to remark the change that had taken place in Mrs. Hoggarty's character now : for whereas she was in the country among the topping persons of the village, and quite content with a tea-party at six and a game of twopenny whist afterwards, — in London she would never dine till seven ; would have a fly from the mews to drive in the Park twice a week ; cut and uncut, and ripped up and twisted over and over, aU her old gowns, flounces, caps, and fallals, and kept my poor Mary from morning till night altering them to the present mode. Mrs. Hoggarty, moreover, appeared in a new wig ; and, I am sorry to say, turned out with such a pair of red cheeks as Nature never gave her, and as made all the people in Bernard Street stare, where they are not as yet used to such fashions. Moreover, she insisted upon our establishing a servant in livery, — a boy, that is, of about sixteen, — who was dressed in one of the old liveries that she had brought with her from Somersetshire, decorated with new cuffs and collars, and new buttons : on the latter were represented the united crests of the Titmarshes and Hoggartys, viz., a tomtit rampant and a hog in armour. I thought this livery and crest-button rather absurd, I must confess ; though my family is very ancient. And heavens ! what a roar of laughter was raised in the office one day, when the little servant in the big livery, with the immense cane, walked in and brought me a message from Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty ! Furthermore, all letters were delivered on a silver tray. If we had had a baby, I believe aunt would have had it down on the tray : but there was as yet no foundation for Mr. Smithers's insinuation upon that score, any more than for his other cowardly fabrication before narrated. Aunt and Mary used to walk gravely up and down the New Eoad, with the boy following with his great gold-headed stick ; but though there was all this ceremony and parade, and aunt still talked of her acquaintances, we did not see a single person from week's end to 78 THE HISTOKY OF SAMUEL TITMAKSH week's end, and a more dismal house than ours could hardly be found in London town. On Sundays, Mrs. Hoggarty used to go to St. Pancras Church, then .just built, and as handsome as Covent Garden Theatre ; and of evenings, to a meeting-house of the Anabaptists : and that day, at least, Mary and I had to ourselves, — for we chose to have seats at the Foundling, and heard the charming music there, and my wife used to look wistfully m the pretty children's faces, — and so, for the matter of that, did I. It was not, however, till a year after our marriage that she spoke in a way which shall be here passed over, but which filled both her and me with inexpressible joy. I remember she had the news to give me on the very day when the Muff and Tippet Company shut up, after swallowing a capital of £300,000, as some said, and nothing to show for it except a treaty with some Indians, who had afterwards tomahawked the agent of the Company. Some people said there were no Indians, and no agent to be tomahawked at all ; but that the whole had been invented in a house in Orutched Friars. Well, I pitied poor Tidd, whose £20,000 were thus gone in a year, and whom I met in the City that day with a most ghastly face. He had £1000 of debts, he said, and talked of shooting himself; but he was only arrested, and passed a long time in the Fleet. Mary's delightM news, how- ever, soon put Tidd and the Muff and Tippet Company out of my head ; as you may fancy. Other circumstances now occurred in the City of London which seemed to show that ovu- Director was — what is not to be found in Johnson's Dictionary — rather shaky. Three of his companies had broken ; four more were in a notoriously insolvent state ; and even at the meetings of the directors of the West Diddlesex, some stormy words passed, which ended in the retirement of several of the board. Friends of Mr. B.'s filled up their places : Mr. Puppet, Mr. Straw, Mr. Query, and other respectable gents, coming forward and joining the concern. Brough and Hoff dissolved partnership ; and Mr. B. said he had quite enough to do to manage the I. W. D., and in- tended gradually to retire from the other affairs. Indeed, such an Association as ours was enough work for any man, let alone the parliamentary duties which Brough was called on to perform, and the seventy-two lawsuits which burst upon him as principal director of the late companies. Perhaps I should here describe the desperate attempts made by Mrs. Hoggarty to introduce herself into genteel life. Strange to say, although we had my Lord Tiptofifs word to the contrary, she insisted upon it that she and Lady Drum were intimately related ; and no sooner did she read in the Morning Post of the arrival of AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 79 her Ladyship and her granddaughters in London, than she ordered the fly before mentioned, and left cards at their respective houses : her card, that is — "Mes. Hoggaety of Castle Hoggaety," magnificently engraved in Gothic letters and flourishes ; and ours, viz., " Mr. and Mrs. S. Titmarsh," which she had printed for the purpose. She would have stormed Lady Jane Preston's door and forced her way upstairs, in spite of Mary's entreaties to the contrary, had the footman who received her card given her the least encourage- ment ; but that functionary, no doubt struck by the oddity of her appearance, placed himself in the front of the door, and declared that he had positive orders not to admit any strangers to his lady. On which Mrs. Hoggarty clenched her fist out of the coach-window, and promised that she would have him turned away. YeUowplush only burst out laughing at this ; and though aunt wrote a most indignant letter to Mr. Edmund Preston, complaining of the insolence of the servants of that right honourable gent, Mr. Preston did not take any notice of her letter, further than to return it, with a desire that he might not be troubled with such impertinent visits for the future. A pretty day we had of it when this letter arrived, owing to my aunt's disappointment and rage in reading the contents ; for when Solomon brought up the note on the silver tear tray as usual, my aunt, seeing Mr. Preston's seal and name at the comer of the letter (which is the common way of writing adopted by those official gents) — my aunt, I say, seeing his name and seal, cried, " Now, Mary, who is right % " and betted my wife a sixpence that the envelope contained an invitation to diimer. She never p9,id the sixpence, though she lost, but contented herself by abusing Mary all day, and said I was a poor-spiiited sneak for not instantly horse- whipping Mr. P. A pretty joke, indeed ! They would have hanged me in those days, as they did the man who shot Mr. Perceval. And now I should be glad to enlarge upon that experience in genteel life which I obtained through the perseverance of Mrs. Hoggarty ; but it must be owned that my opportunities were but few, lasting only for the brief period of six months : and also, genteel society has been fully described already by various authors of novels, whose names need not here be set down, but who, being themselves connected with the aristocracy, viz., as members of noble families, or as footmen or hangers-on thereof, naturally understand their subject a great deal better than a poor young fellow from a fire- office can. There was our celebrated adventure in the Opera House, whither Mrs. H. would insist upon conducting us ; and where, in a room of the establishmewt called the crush-room, where the ladies and gent§ 8o THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH after the music and dancing await the arriyal of their carriages (a pretty figure did our little Solomon cut, by the way, with his big cane, among the gentlemen of the shoulder-knot assembled in the lobby !) — where, I say, in the crush-room, Mrs. H. rushed up to old Lady Drum, whom I pointed out to her, and insisted upon claiming relationship with her Ladyship. But my Lady Drum had only a memory when she chose, as I may say, and had entirely on this occasion thought fit to forget her connection with the Titmarshes and Hoggartys. Ear from recognising us, indeed, she called Mrs. Hoggarty an "ojus 'oman," and screamed out as loud as possible for a police-officer. This and other rebuffs made my aimt perceive the vanities of this wicked world, as she said, and threw her more and more into really serious society. She formed several very valuable acquaint- ances, she said, at the Independent Chapel; and among others, lighted upon her friend of the Rookery, Mr. Grimes Wapshot. We did not know then the interview which he had had with Mr. Smithers, nor did Grimes think proper to acquaint us with the particulars of it ; but though I did acquaint Mrs. H. with the fact that her favourite preacher had been tried for forgery, she replied that she considered the story an atrocious calumny ; and he answered by saying that Mary and I were in lamentable darkness, and that we should infallibly find the way to a certain bottomless pit, of which he seemed to know a great deal. Under the reverend gentle- man's guidance and advice, she, after a time, separated from St. Pancras altogether — " sat under Mm," as the phrase ia, regularly thrice a week — began to labour in the conversion of the poor of Bloomsbury and St. Giles's, and made a deal of baby-linen for distribution among those benighted people. She did not make any, however, for Mrs. Sam Titmarsh, who now showed signs that such would be speedily necessary, but let Mary (and my mother and sisters in Somersetshire) provide what was requisite for the coming event. I am not, indeed, sure that she did not say it was wrong on our parts to make any such provision, and that we ought to let the morrow provide for itself. At any rate, the Reverend Grimes Wapshot drank a deal of brandy-and-water at our house, and dined there even oftener than poor Gus used to do. But I had little leisure to attend to him and his doings ; for I must confess at this time I was growing very embarrassed in my circumstances, and was much harassed both as a private and "public character. As regards the former, Mrs. Hoggarty had given me £50 ; but out of that £50 I had to pay a journey post from Somersetshire, all the carriage of her goods from the country, the painting, papering. AND THE GEEAT HOGGAKTY DIAMOND 8i and carpeting of my house, the brandy and strong liquors drunk by the Eeverend Grimes and his friends (for the reverend gent said that Eosolio did not agree with him) ; and finally, a thousand small bills and expenses incident to all housekeepers in the town of London. Add to this, I received just at the time when I was most in want of cash, Madame Mantalini's bill, Messrs. Howell and James's ditto, the account of Baron Von Stiltz, and the bill of Mr. Polonius for the setting of the diamond-pin. All these bills arrived in a week, as they have a knack of doing ; and fancy my astonishment in presenting them to Mrs. Hoggarty, when she said, "Well, my dear, you are in the receipt of a very fine income. If you choose to order dresses and jewels from fiist-rate shops, you must pay for them; and don't expect that / am to abet your extravagance, or give you a shilling more than the munificent sum I pay you for board and lodging ! " How could I tell Mary of this behaviour of Mrs. Hoggarty, and Mary in such a deUcate condition 1 And bad as matters were at home, I am sorry to say at the office they began to look still worse. Not only did Eoundhand leave, but Highmore went away. Abednego became head clerk : and one day old Abednego came to the place and was shown into the directors' private room ; when he left it, he came trembling, chattering, and cursing downstairs ; and had begun, " Shentlemen " a speech to the very clerks in the office, when Mr. Brough, with an imploring look, and crying out, " Stop till Saturday ! " at length got him into the street. On Saturday Abednego junior left the office for ever, and I became head clerk with £400 a year salary. It was a fatal week for the office, too. On Monday, when I arrived and took my seat at the head desk, and my first read of the newspaper, as was my right, the first thing I read was, " Frightful fire in Houndsditch ! Total destruction of Mr. Meshach's sealing-wax manufactory and of Mr. Shadrach's clothing dep6t, adjoining. In the former was £20,000 worth of the finest Dutch wax, which the voracious element attacked and devoured in a twinkling. The latter estimable gentleman had just completed forty thousand suits of clothes for the cavalry of H.H. the Cacique of Poyais." Both of these Jewish gents, who were connections of Mr. Abednego, were insured in our office to the full amount of their loss. The calamity was attributed to the drunkenness of a scoundrelly Irish watchman, who was employed on the premises, and who upset a bottle of whisky in the warehouse of Messrs. Shadrach, and incautiously looked for the liquor with a lighted candle. The mau 82 THE HISTOEY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH was brought to our office hy his employers ; and certainly, as we all could testify, was even then in a state of frightful intoxication. As if this were not sufficient, in the obituary was announced the demise of Alderman Pash — Alderman Oally-Pash we used to call him in our lighter hours, knowing his propensity to green fat : but such a moment as this was no time for joking ! He was insured by our house for £5000. And now I saw very well the truth of a remark of Gus's — viz., that life-assurance companies go on excellently for a year or two after their establishment, but that it is much more difficult to make them profitable when the assured parties begin to die. The Jewish fires were the heaviest blows we had had; for though the Waddingley Cotton-mills had been burnt in 1822, at a loss to the Company of £80,000, and though the Patent Erostratus Match Manufactory had exploded in the same year at a charge of £14,000, there were those who said that the loss had not been near so heavy as was supposed — nay, that the Company had burnt the above-named establishments as advertisements for themselves. Of these facts I can't be positive, having never seen the early accounts of the concern. Contrary to the expectation of all us gents, who were ourselves as dismal as mutes, Mr. Brough came to the office in his coach-and- four, laughiag and joking with a friend as he stepped out at the door. " Gentlemen ! " said he, " you have read the papers ; they announce an event which I most deeply deplore. I mean the demise of the excellent Alderman Pash, one of our constituents. But if anything can console me for the loss of that worthy man, it is to think that his children and widow will receive, at eleven o'clock next Satiirday, £5000 from my friend Mr. Titmarsh, who is now head clerk here. As for the accident which has happened to Messrs. Shadrach and Meshach, — in that, at least, there is nothing that can occasion any person sorrow. On Saturday next, or as soon as the particulars of their loss can be satisfactorily ascertained, my friend Mr. Titmarsh will pay to them across the counter a sum of forty, fifty, eighty, one hundred thousand pounds — according to the amount of their loss. They, at least, will be remunerated ; and though to our proprietors the outlay will no doubt be considerable, yet we can afford it, gentlemen. John Brough can afibrd it him- self, for the matter of that, and not be very much embarrassed ; and we must learn to bear ill-fortime as we have hitherto borne good, and show ourselves to be men always ! " Mr. B. concluded with some allusions, which I confess I don't like to give here ; for to speak of Heaven in connection with common AND THE GREAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 83 worldly matters, has always appeared to me irreverent; and to bring it to bear witness to the lie in his mouth, as a religious hypocrite does, is such a frightful crime, that one should be careful even in alluding to it. Mr. Brough's speech somehow foimd its way into the news- papers of that very evening ; nor can I think who gave a report of it, for none of our gents left the ofllce that day until the evening papers had appeared. But there was the speech — ay, and at the week's end, although Roundhand was heard on 'Change that day declaring he would bet five to one that Alderman Pash's money would never be paid, — at the week's end the money was paid by me to Mrs. Pash's solicitor across the counter, and no doubt Roundhand lost his money. Shall I tell how the money was procured? There can be no harm in mentioning the matter now after twenty years' lapse of time ; and moreover, it is greatly to the credit of two individuals now dead. As I was head clerk, I had occasion to be frequently in Brough's room, and he now seemed once more disposed to take me into his confidence. " Titmarsh, my boy," said he one day to me, after looking me hard in the face, "did you ever hear of the fate of the great Mr. Silberschmidt, of London?" Of course I had. Mr. Silber- schmidt, the Rothschild of his day (indeed I have heard the latter famous gent was originally a clerk in Silberschmidt's house) — Silberschmidt, fancying he could not meet his engagements, com- ndtted suicide ; and had he lived till four o'clock that day, would have known that he was worth £400,000. "To tell you frankly the truth," says Mr. B., " I am in Silberschmidt's case. My late partner, Hoff, has given bills in the name of the firm to an enormous amount, and I have been obliged to meet them. I have been cast in fourteen actions, brought by creditors of that infernal Ginger Beer Company ; and all the debts are put upon my shoulders, on account of my known wealth. Now, unless I have time, I cannot pay ; and the long and short of the matter is that if I cannot procure £5000 before Saturday, our concern is ruined 1 " "What! the West Diddlesex ruined?" says I, thinking of my poor mother's annuity. " Impossible ! oiu- business is splendid ! " " We must have £5000 on Satiuday, and we are saved ; and if you will, as you can, get it for me, I will give you £10,000 for the money ! " B. then showed me to a fraction the accounts of the concern, and his own private account ; proving beyond the possibility of a doubt, that with the £5000 our office must be set agoing; and without it, that the concern must stop. No matter how he proved 84 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH the thing ; but there is, you know, a dictum, of a statesman that, give him but leave to use figures, and he will prove anything. I promised to ask Mrs. Hoggarty once more for the money, and she seemed not to be disinclined. I told him so ; and that da,y he called upon her, his wife called upon her, his daughter called upon her, and once more the Brough carriage-and-four was seen at our house. But Mrs. Brough was a bad manager ; and, instead of carrying matters with a high hand, fairly burst into tears before Mrs. Hoggarty, and went down on her knees and besought her to save dear John. This at once aroused my aunt's suspicions ; and instead of lending the money, she wrote off to Mr. Smithers instantly to come up to her, desired me to give her up the £3000 scrip shares that I possessed, called me an atrocious cheat and heartless swindler, and vowed I had been the cause of her ruin. How was Mr. Brough to get the money? I will tell you. Being in his room one day, old Gates the Fulham porter came and brought him from Mr. Balls, the pawnbroker, a sum of £1200. Missus told him, he said, to carry the plate to Mr. Balls ; and having paid the money, old Gates fumbled a great deal in his pockets, and at last puUed out a £5 note, which he said his daughter Jane had just sent him from service, and begged Mr. B. would let him have another share in the Company. " He was mortal sure it would go right yet. And when he heard master crying and cursing as he and missus were walking in the shrubbery, and saying that for the want of a few pounds — a few shiUings — the finest fortune in Europe was to be overthrown, why Gates and his woman thought that they should come for'ard, to be sure, with all they could, to help the kindest master and missus ever was." This was the substance of Gates's speech ; and Mr. Brough shook his hand and — took the £5. "Gates," said he, "that £5 note shall be the best outlay you ever made in your life ! " and I have no doubt it was, — but it was in heaven that poor old Gates was to get the interest of his little mite. Nor was this the only instance. Mrs. Brough's sister, Miss Dough, who had been on bad terms with the Director almost ever since he had risen to be a great man, came to the office with a power of attorney, and said, " John, Isabella has been with me this morning, and says you want money, and I have brought you my £4000 ; it is aU I have, John, and pray God it may do you good- — you and my dear sister, who was the best sister in the world to me — till — till a little time ago." And she laid down the paper : I was called up to witness it, and Brough, with tears in his eyes, told me her words : for he AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 85 could trast me, he said. And thus it was that I came to be present at Gates's interview with his master, which took place only an hour afterwards. Brave Mrs. Brough ! how she was working for her husband ! Good woman, and kind ! but yow had a true heart, and merited a better fate ! Though wherefore say so ? The woman, to this day, thinks her husband an angel, and loves him a thousand times better for his misfortunes. On Saturday, Alderman Pash's solicitor was paid by me across the counter, as I said. " Never mind your aunt's money, Titmarsh, my boy," said Brough : " never mind her having resumed her shares. You are a true honest fellow ; you have never abused me like that pack of curs downstairs, and I'll make your fortune yet ! " The next week, as I was sitting with my wife, with Mr. Smithers, and with Mrs. Hoggarty, taking our tea comfortably, a knock was heard at the door, and a gentleman desired to speak to me in the parlour. It was Mr. Aminadab of Chancery Lane, who arrested me as a shareholder of the Independent West Diddlesex Association, at the suit of Von Stiltz of Clifford Street, tailor and draper. I called down Smithers, and told him for Heaven's sake not to tell Mary. "Where is Brough?" says Mr. Smithers. " Why," says Mr. Aminadab, " he's once more of the firm of Brough and Ofii sir — he breakfasted at Calais this morning ! " CHAPTER XI IN WHICH IT APPEARS THAT A MAN MAY POSSESS A DIAMOND, AND YET BE VERY HARD PRESSED FOR A DINNER ON that fatal Saturday evening, in a hackney-coach, fetched from the Foundling, was I taken from my comfortable house and my dear little wife; whom Mr. Smithers was left to console as he might. He said that I was compelled to take a journey upon business connected with the ofBoe ; and my poor Mary made up a little portmanteau of clothes, and tied a com- forter round my neck, and bade my companion particularly to keep the coach windows shut : which injunction the grinning wretch promised to obey. Our journey was not long : it was only a shOling fare to Oursitor Street, Chancery Lane, and there I was set down. The house before which the coach stopped seemed to be only one of half-a-dozen in that street which were used for the same purpose. No man, be he ever so rich, can pass by those dismal houses, I think, without a shudder. The front windows are barred, and on the dingy pillar of the door was a shining brass-plate, setting forth that " Aminadab, Officer to the Sheriff of Middlesex," lived therein. A little red-haired Israelite opened the first door as our coach drove up, and received me and my baggage. As soon as we entered the door, he barred it, and I found myself in the face of another huge door, which was strongly locked ; and, at last, passing through that, we entered the lobby of the house. There is no need to describe it. It is very like ten thousand other houses in our dark City of London. There was a dirty passage and a dirty stair, and from the passage two dirty doors let into two filthy rooms, which had strong bars at the windows, and yet withal an air of horrible finery that makes me uncomfortable to think of even yet. On the walls hung aU sorts of trumpery pictures in tawdry frames (how different from those capital performances of my cousin Michael Angelo !) ; on the mantelpiece huge French clocks, vases, and candlesticks; on the sidebo^ds, enormous trays of Birmingham plated ware : for Mr. Ammi^dab not only arrested those who could not pay money, but lent it to those who could; AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 87 and had already, in the way of trade, sold and bought these articles many times over. I agreed to take the back-parlour for the night, and while a Hebrew damsel was arranging a little dusky sofa-bedstead (woe betide him who has to sleep on it !) I was invited into the front- parlour, where Mr. Aminadab, bidding me take heart, told me I should have a dinner for nothing with a party who had just arrived. I did noli want for dinner, but I was glad not to be alone — not alone, even till Gus came ; for whom I despatched a messenger to his lodgings hard by. I found there, in the front-parlour, at eight o'clock in the evening, four gentlemen, just about to sit down to dinner. Sur- prising ! there was Mr, B., a gentleman of fashion, who had only within half-an-hour arrived in a post-chaise with his companion, Mr. Lock, an officer of Horsham gaol. Mr. B. was arrested in this wise : He was a careless good-humoured gentleman, and had indorsed bUls to a large amount for a friend ; who, a man of high family and unquestionable honour, had pledged the latter, along with a number of the most solemn oaths, for the payment of the bills in question. Having indorsed the notes, young Mr. B., with a proper thoughtlessness, forgot all about them, and so, by some chance, did the iriend whom he obliged ; for, instead of being in London with the money for the payment of his obligations, this latter gentleman was travelling abroad, and never hinted one word to Mr. B. that the notes would fall upon him. The young gentleman was at Brighton lying sick of a fever ; was taken from his bed by a bailiff, and carried, on a rainy day, to Horsham gaol; had a relapse of his complaint, and when sufficiently recovered, was brought up to London to the house of Mr. Aminadab; where I found him — a pale, thin, good-humoured, lost young man : he was lying on a sofe, and had given orders for the dinner to which I was invited. The lad's face gave one pain to look at ; it was impossible not to see that his hours were numbered. Now Mr. B. has not anything to do with my humble story; but I can't help mentioning him, as I saw him. He sent for his lawyer and his doctor; the former settled speedily his accoimts with the bailiff, and the latter arranged all his earthly accounts : for after he went from the spimging-house he never recovered from the shock of the arrest, and in a few weeks he died. And though this circumstance took place many years ago, I can't forget it to my dying day; and often see the author of Mr. B.'s death, — a prosperous gentleman, riding a fine horse in the Park, lounging at the window of a club ; wife many friends, no doubt, and a good reputation. I wonder whether the man sleeps easily and eats with 88 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH a good appetite ? I wonder whether he has paid Mr. B.'s heirs the sum which that gentleman paid, and died for ? If Mr. B.'s history has nothing to do with mine, and is only inserted here for the sake of a moral, what business have I to mention particulars of the dinner to which I was treated by that gentleman, in the spunging-house in Cursitor Street? Why, for the moral too; and therefore the public must be told of what really and truly that dinner consisted. There were five guests, and three silver tureens of soup : viz., mock-turtle soup, ox-tail soup, and giblet soup. Next came a great piece of salmon, likewise on a silver dish, a roast goose, a roast saddle of mutton, roast game, and all sorts of adjuncts. In this way can a gentleman live in a spimging-house if he be inclined ; and over this repast (which, in truth, I could not touch, for, let alone having dined, my heart was full of care) — over this meal my friend Gus Hoskins found me, when he received the letter that I had despatched to him. Gus, who had never been in a prison before, and whose heart failed him as the red-headed young Moses opened and shut for him the numerous iron outer doors, was struck dumb to see me behind a bottle of claret, in a room blazing with gilt lamps ; the curtains were down too, and you could not see the bars at the windows ; and Mr. B., Mr. Lock the Brighton officer, Mr. Aminadab, and another rich gentleman of his trade and religious persuasion, were chirping as merrily, and looked as respectably, as any noblemen in the land. " Have him in," said Mr. B., " if he's a friend of Mr. Titmarsh'e; for, cuss me, I like to see a rogue : and run me through, Titmarsh, but I think you are one of the best in London. You beat Brough ; you do, by Jove ! for he looks like a rogue — anybody would swear to him ; but you ! by Jove, you look the very picture of honesty ! " " A deep file," said Aminadab, winking and pointing me out to his friend Mr. Jehoshaphat. " A good one," says Jehoshaphat. " In for three hundred thousand pound," says Aminadab : " Brough's right-hand man, and only three-and-twenty." "Mr. Titmarsh, sir, your 'ealth, sir," says Mr. Lock, in an ecstasy of admiration. " Your very good 'ealth, sir, and better luck to you next time." "Pooh, pooh ! he's aU right,'' says Aminadab; "let him alone." " In for what ? " shouted I, quite amazed. " Why, sir, you arrested me for £90." "Yes, but you are in for half a million, — you know you are. Them debts I don't count — them paltry tradesmen's accounts. I mean Brough's business. It's an ugly one ; but you'll get through AND THE GEEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 89 it. We all know you; and I lay my life that when you come through the court, Mrs. Titmarsh has got a handsome thing laid by." "Mrs. Titmarsh has a small property, sir," says I. "What then?" The three gentlemen burst into a loud laugh, said I was a "rum chap" — a "downy cove," and made other remarks which I could not imderstand then ; but the meaning of which I have since comprehended, for they took me to be a great rascal, I am sorry to say, and supposed that I had robbed the I. W. D. Association, and, in order to make my money secure, settled it on my wife. It was in the midst of this conversation that, as I said, Gus came in; and whew! when he saw what was going on, he gave such a whistle ! "Herr von Joel, by Jove!" says Aminadab. At which all laughed. " Sit down," says Mr. B., — " sit down, and wet your whistle, my piper! I say, egad! you're the piper that played before Moses ! Had you there. Dab. Dab, get a fresh bottle of Bur- gundy for Mr. Hoskins." And before he knew where he was, there was Gus for the first time in his life drinking Olos-Vougeot. Gus said he had never tasted Bergamy before, at which the bailiff sneered, and told him the name of the wine. " Old Clo ! What ? " says Gus ; and we laughed : but the Hebrew gents did not this time. " Come, come, sir ! " says Mr. Aminadab's friend, " ve're all shentlemen here, and shentlemen never makish reflexunsh upon other gentlemen'sh pershuashunsh." After this feast was concluded, Gus and I retired to my room to consult about my affairs. With regard to the responsibility incurred as a shareholder in the West Diddlesex, I was not uneasy ; for though the matter might cause me a little trouble at first, I knew I was not a shareholder ; that the shares were scrip shares, making the dividend payable to the bearer ; and my aunt had called back her shares, and consequently I was free. But it was very unpleasant to me to consider that I was in debt nearly a hundred pounds to tradesmen, chiefly of Mrs. Hoggarty's recommendation; and as she had promised to be answerable for their bills, I deter- mined to send her a letter reminding her of her promise, and begging her at the same time to relieve me from Mr. Von Stiltz's debt, for which I was arrested : and which was incurred not certainly at her desire, but at Mr. Brough's; and would never have been incurred by me but at the absolute demand of that gentleman. I wrote to her, therefore, begging her to pay all these debts, 90 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH and promised myself on Monday morning again to be with my dear wife. G-us carried off the letter, and promised to deliver it in Ber- nard Street after church-time ; taking care that Maiy should know nothing at all of the painful situation in which I was placed. It was near midnight when we parted, and I tried to sleep as well as I could in the dirty little sofarbedstead of Mr. Aminadab's back-parlour. That morning was fine and sunshiny, and I heard all the bells ringing cheerfully for church, and longed to be walking to the Foundling with my wife : but there were the three iron doors between me and liberty, and I had nothing for it but to read my prayers in my own room, and walk up and down afterwards in the court at the back of the house. "Would you believe it 1 This very court was like a cage ! Great iron bars covered it in from one end to another ; and here it was that Mr. Aminadab's gaol-birds took the air. They had seen me reading out of the prayer-book at the back- parlour window, and all burst into a yell of laughter when I came to walk in the cage. One of them shouted out " Amen ! " when I appeared; another called me a muff (which means, in the slang language, a very sUly fellow) ; a third wondered that I took to my prayer-book yet. " When do you mean, sir ? " says I to the feUow — a rough man, a horse-dealer. "Why, when you are going to be hanged, you young hypocrite!" says the man. " But that is always the way with Brough's people," continued he. "I had four greys once for him — a great bargain, but he would not go to look at them at Tattersall's, nor speak a word of business about them, because it was a Sunday." " Because there are hypocrites, sir," says I, " religion is not to be considered a bad thing ; and if Mr. Brough would not deal with you on a Sunday, he certainly did his duty." The men only laughed the more at this rebuke, and evidently considered me a great criminal. I was glad to be released from their society by the appearance of Gus and Mr. Smithers. Both wore very long faces. They were ushered into my room, and, without any orders of mine, a bottle of wine and biscuits were brought in by Mr. Aminadab ; which I really thought was very kind of him. "Drink a glass of wine, Mr. Titmarsh," says Smithers, "and read this letter. A pretty note was that which you sent to your aunt this morning, and here you have an answer to it." I drank the wine, and trembled rather as I read as follows : — " Sir, — If, because you knew I had desined to leave you my proparty, you wished to murdar me, and so stepp into it, you are AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 91 dissapointed. Your villiany and ingratitude would have murdard me, had I not, by Heaven's grace, been inabled to look for consakr tion elsewhere. " For nearly a year I have been a martar to you. I gave up everything, — my happy home in the country, where all respected the name of Hoggarty ; my valuble furnitur and wines ; my plate, glass, and crockry ; I brought all — all to make your home happy and lispectable. I put up with the airs and impertanencies of Mrs. Titmarsh ; I loaded her and you with presents and bennafits. I sacrafised myself; I gave up the best sociaty in the land, to witch I have been accustomed, in order to be a gardian and compannion to you, and prevent, if possible, that waist amd ixtravygamce which I prophyded would be your ruin. Such waist and ixtravygance never, never, never did I see. Buttar waisted as if it had been dirt, coles flung away, candles burnt at both ends, tea and meat the same. The butcher's bill in this house was enough to support six famahes. " And now you have the audassaty, being placed in prison justly for your crimes,— for cheating me of £3000, for robbing your mother of an insignificient summ, which to her, poor thing, was everything (though she will not feel her loss as I do, being all her life next door to a beggar), for incurring detts which you cannot pay, wherein you knew that your miserable income was quite unable to support your ixtravygance — ^you come upon me to pay your detts ! No, sir, it is quite enough that your mother should go on the parish, and that your wife should sweep the streets, to which you have indeed brought them; /, at least, though cheated by you of a large summ, and obliged to pass my days in comparitive ruin, can retire, and have some of the comforts to which my rank entitles me. The furnitur in this house is mine ; and as I presume you intend youur lady to sleep in the streets, I give you warning that I shall remove it all to-morrow. " Mr. Smithers will tell you that I had intended to leave you my intire fortune. I have this morning, in his presents, solamly toar up my will ; and hereby renounce all connection with you and your beggarly family. Susajs^ Hoggarty. "P.S. — I took a viper into my bosom, and it stvm,g me." I confess that, on the first reading of this letter, I was in such a fury that I forgot almost the painful situation in which it plunged me, and the ruin hanging over me. " What a fool you were, Titmarsh, to write that letter ! " said Mr. Smithers. " You have cut your own throat, sir, — ^lost a fine 92 THE HISTOEY OF SAMUEL TITMABSH property, — written yourself out of five hundred a year. Mrs. Hoggarty, my client, brought the will, as she says, downstairs, and flung it into the fire before our faces." " It's a blessing that your wife was from home," added Gus. " She went to church this morning with Dr. Salt's family, and sent word that she would spend the day with them. She was always glad to be away from Mrs. H., you know." " She never knew on which side her bread was buttered," said Mr. Smithers. " You should have taken the lady when she was in the humour, sir, and have borrowed the money elsewhere. Why, sir, I had almost reconciled her to her loss in that cursed Company. I showed her how I had saved out of Brough's claws the whole of her remaining fortune ; which he would have devoured in a day, the scoundrel ! And if you would have left the matter to me, Mr. Titmarsh, I would have had you reconciled completely to Mrs. Hoggarty ; I would have removed aU your difficulties ; I would have lent you the pitiful sum of money myself." " Will you ? " says Gus ; " that's a trump ! " and he seized Smithers's hand, and squeezed it so that the tears came into the attorney's eyes. " Generous fellow ! " said I • " lend me money, when you know what a situation I am in, and not able to pay ! " " Ay, my good sir, there's the rub ! " says Mr. Smithers. " I said I would have lent the money ; and so to the acknowledged heir of Mrs. Hoggarty I would — would at this moment ; for nothing delights the heart of Bob Smithers more than to do a kindness. I would have rejoiced in doing it ; and a mere acknowledgment from that respected lady would have amply sufficed. But now, sir, the case is altered, — you have no security to offer, as you justly observe." " Not a whit, certainly.'' " And without security, sir, of course can expect no money — of course not. You are a man of the world, Mr. 'Titmarsh, and I see our notions exactly agree." " There's his wife's property," says Gus. " Wife's property 'i Bah ! Mrs. Sam Titmarsh is a minor, and can't touch a shilling of it. No, no, no meddling with minors for me ! But stop ! — your mother has a house and shop in our village. Get me a mortgage of that " " I'U do no such thing, sir," says I. " My mother has suffered quite enough on my score already, and has my sisters to provide for ; and I will thank you, Mr. Smithers, not to breathe a syllable to her regarding my present situation." ''You speak like a man of honour, sir," says Mr, Smithers, AND THE GREAT HOGGAKTY DIAMOND 93 " and I will obey your injunctions to the letter. I will do more, sir. I will introduce you to a respectable firm here, my worthy friends, Messrs. Higgs, Biggs, and Blatherwick, who will do every- thing in their power to serve you. And so, sir, I wish you a very good morning." And with this Mr. Smithers took his hat and left the room ; and after a further consultation with my aunt, as I heard afterwards, quitted London that evening by the mail. I sent my faithful Gus off once more to break the matter gently to my wife, fearing lest Mrs. Hoggarty should speak of it abruptly to her ; as I knew in her anger she would do. But he came in an hour panting back, to say that Mrs. H. had packed and locked her trunks, and had gone off in a hackney-coach. So, knowing that my poor Mary was not to return till night, Hoskins remained with me till then; and, after a dismal day, left me once more at nine, to carry the dismal tidings to her. At ten o'clock on that night there was a great rattling and ringing at the outer door, and presently my poor girl fell into my arms ; and Gus Hoskins sat blubbering in a comer, as I tried my best to console her. The next morning I was favoured with a visit from Mr. Blather wick ; who, hearing from me that I had only three guineas in my pocket, told me very plainly that lawyers only lived by fees. He recommended me to quit Cursitor Street, as living there was very expensive. And as I was sitting very sad, my wife made her appear- ance (it was with great difficulty that she could be brought to leave me the night previous) — " The horrible men came at four this morning," said she ; " four hours before light." " What horrible men 1 " says I. "Your aunt's men," said she, "to remove the furniture; they had it all packed before I came away. And I let them carry all," said she ; "I was too sad to look what was ours and what was not. That odious Mr. Wapshot was with them ; and I left him seeing the last waggon-load from the door. I have only brought away your clothes," added she, " and a few of mine ; and some of the books you used to like to read ; and some — some things I have been getting for the — for the baby. The servants' wages were paid up to Christmas ; and I paid them the rest. And see ! just as I was going away, the post came, and brought to me my half-year's income — £35, dear Sam. Isn't it a blessing t " "Will you pay my bDl, Mr. What-d'ye-call-'im ■? " here cried Mr. Aminadab, flinging open the door (he had been consulting with 94 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH Mr. Blatherwick, I suppose). " I want the room for a gentleman. guess it's too dear for the like of you." And here — will you believe it ? — the man handed me a biU of three guineas for two days' board and lodging in his odious house. There was a crowd of idlers round the door as I passed out of it, and had I been alone I should have been ashamed of seeing them ; but, as it was, I was only thinking of my dear dear wife, who was leaning trustfully on my arm, and smiling like heaven into my face — ay, and took heaven, too, into the Fleet prisop with me — or an angel out of heaven. Ah ! I had loved her before, and happy it is to love when one is hopeful and young in the midst of smiles and sunshine ; but be Mrahappy, and then see what it is to be loved by a good woman ! I declare before Heaven, that of all the joys and happy moments it has given me, that was the crowning one — that little ride, with my wife's cheek on my shoulder, down Holborn to the prison ! Do you think I cared for the bailiff that sat opposite? No, by the Lord ! I kissed her, and hugged her — yes, and cried with her likewise. But before our ride was over her eyes dried up, and she stepped blushing and happy out of the coach at the prison door, as if she were a princess going to the Queen's Drawing-room. CHAPTER XII IN WHICH THE HERO'S AUNT'S DIAMOND MAKES ACQUAINT- ANCE WITH THE HERO'S UNCLE THE failure of the great Diddlesex Association speedily became the theme of all the newspapers, and every person concerned in it was soon held up to public abhorrence as a rascal and a swindler. It was said that Brough had gone off with a miUion of money. Even it was hinted that poor I had sent a hundred thousand pounds to America, and only waited to pass through the court in order to be a rich man for the rest of my days. This opinion had some supporters in the prison ; where, strange to say, it procured me consideration — of which, as may be supposed, I was little inclined to avail myself Mr. Aminadab, however, in his frequent visits to the Fleet, persisted in saying that I was a poor- spirited creature, a mere tool in Brough's hands, and had not saved a shilling. Opinions, however, differed ; and I believe it was con- sidered by the turnkeys that I was a fellow of exquisite dissimula- tion, who had put on the appearance of poverty in order more effectually to mislead the public. Messrs. Abednego and Son were similarly held up to public odium : and, in fact, what were the exact dealings of these gentle- men with Mr. Brough I have never been able to learn. It was proved by the books that large simis of money had been paid to Mr. Abednego by the Company ; but he produced documents signed by Mr. Brough, which made the latter and the West Diddlesex Association his debtors to a still further amoimt. On the day I went to the Bankruptcy Court to be examined, Mr. Abednego and the two gentlemen from Houndsditch were present to |wear to their debts, and made a sad noise, and uttered a vast number of oaths in attestation of their claim. But Messrs. Jackson and Paxton pro- duced against them that very Irish porter who was said to have been the cause of the fire, and, I am told, hinted that they had matter for hanging the Jewish gents if they persisted in their demand. On this they disappeared altogether, and no more was ever heard of their losses. I am incUned to believe that our Director had had money from Abednego — had given him shares as bonus and security 96 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH — had been suddenly obliged to redeem these shares with ready money ; and so had precipitated the ruin of himself and the concern. It is needless to say here in what a multiplicity of companies Brough was engaged. That in which poor Mr. Tidd invested his money did not pay 2d. in the pound ; and that was the largest dividend paii by any of them. As for ours — ah ! there was a pretty scene as I was brought from the Fleet to the Bankruptcy Court, to give my testimony as late head clerk and accountant of the West Diddlesex Association. My poor wife, then very near her time, insisted upon accompany- ing me to Basinghall Street ; and so did my friend Gus Hoskins, that true and honest feUow. If you had seen the crowd that was asasmbled, and the hubbub that was made as I was brought up ! " Mr. Titraarsh," says the Commissioner as I came to the table, with a peculiar sarcastic accent on the Tit — "Mr. Titmarsh, you were the confidant of Mr. Brough, the principal clerk of Mr. Brough, and a considerable shareholder in the Company ? " " Only a nominal one, sir," said I. " Of course, only nominal," continued the Commissioner, turning to his colleague with a sneer; "and a great comfort it must be to you, sir, to think that you had a share in all the plun — the profits of the speculation, and now can free yourself from the losses, by saying you are only a nominal shareholder." " The infernal villain ! " shouted out a voice from the crowd. It was that of the furious half-pay captain and late shareholder. Captain Sparr. " Silence in the court there ! " the Commissioner continued : and aU this while Mary was anxiously looking in his face, and then in miae, as pale as death ; while Gus, on the contrary, was as red as vermilion. " Mr. Titmarsh, I have had the good fortune to see a list of your debts from the Insolvent Court, and find that you are indebted to Mr. Stiltz, the great tailor, in a handsome sum ; to Mr. Polonius, the celebrated jeweller, likewise ; to fashionable milliners and dressmakers, moreover; — and all this upon a salary of £200 per annum. For so young a gentleman it must be con- fessed you h|ve employed your time well." "Has this anything to do with the question, sir?" says I. " Am I here to give an account of my private debts, or to speak as to what I know regarding the aifairs of the Company 1 As for my share in it, I have a mother, sir, and many sisters " " The d — d scoundrel ! " shouts the Captain. "Silence that there fellow!" shouts Gus, as bold as brass- "'■ which the court burst out laughing, and this gave me courage to proceed. AND THE GKEAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 97 " My mother, sir, four years since, having a legacy of £400 left to her, ad-vised with her solicitor, Mr. Smithers, how she should dispose of this sum ; and as the Independent West Diddlesex was just then established, the money was placed in an annuity in that office, where I procured a clerkship. You may suppose me a very hardened criminal, because I have ordered clothes of Mr. Von Stiltz ; but you will hardly fancy that I, a lad of nineteen, knew anything of the concerns of the Company into whose service I entered as twentieth clerk, my own mother's money paying, as it were, for my place. Well, sir, the interest offered by the Company was so tempting, that a rich relative of mine was induced to purchase a number of shares." " Who induced your relative, if I may make so bold as to inquire ? " " I can't help owning, sir,'' says I, blushing, " that I wrote a letter myself. But consider, my relative was sixty years old, and I was twenty-one. My relative took several months to consider, and had the advice of her lawyers before she acceded to my request. And I made it at the instigation of Mr. Brough, who dictated the letter which I wrote, and who I really thought then was as rich as Mr. Eothschild himself." " Your friend placed her money in your name ; and you, if I mistake not, Mr. Titmarsh, were suddenly placed over the heads of twelve of your feUow-clerks as a reward for your service in obtaining it ? " " It is very true, sir," — and, as I confessed it, poor Mary began to wipe her eyes, and Gus's ears (I could not see his face) looked like two red-hot muffins — "it's quite true, sir; and, as matters have turned out, I am heartily sorry for what I did. But at the time I thought I could serve my aunt as well as myself; and you must remember, then, how high our shares were." "WeU, sir, having procured this sum of money, you were straightway taken into Mr. Brough's confidence. You were re- ceived into his house, and from third clerk speedily became head clerk ; in which post you were foimd at the disappearance of your worthy patron ! ' " Sir, you have no right to question me, to be sure ; but here are a hundred of' our shareholders, and I'm not unwilling to make a clean breast of it," said I, pressing Mary's hand. " I certainly was the head clerk. And why ? Because the other gents left the office. I certainly was received into Mr. Brough's house. And ' Hyl Because, sir rm/ awnt had more money to layout. I see it aU clearly now, though I could not understand it then ; and the proof that Mr. Brough wanted my aunt's money, and not me, is 3 G 98 THE HISTOBY OF SAMjUEL TITMAKSH that, when she came to town, our Director carried her by force out of my house to Fulham, and never so much as thought of asking me or my wife thither. Ay, sir, and he would have had her remaining money, had not her lawyer from the country pre- vented her disposing of it. Before the concern finally broke, and as soon as she heard there was doubt concerning it, she took back her shares — scrip shares they were, sir, as you know — and has dis- posed of them as she thought fit. Here, sir, and gents," says I, " you have the whole of the history as far as regards me. In order to get her only son a means of hvelihood, my mother placed her little money viith the Company — it is lost. My aunt invested larger sums with it, which were to have been mine one day, and they are lost too ; and here am I, at the end of four years, a dis- graced and ruined man. Is there any one present, however much he has suffered by the failure of the Company, that has had worse fortune through it than I ? " "Mr. Titmarsh," says Mr. Commissioner, in a much more friendly way, and at the same time casting a glance at a news- paper reporter that was sitting hard by, " your story is not likely to get into the newspapers ; for, as you say, it is a private affair, which you had no need to speak of unless you thought proper, and may be considered as a confidential conversation between us and the other gentlemen here. But if it could be made public, it might do some good, and warn people, if they will be warned, against the folly of such enterprises as that in which you have been engaged. It is quite clear fi:om your story, that you have been deceived as grossly as any one of the persons present. But look you, sir, if you had not been so eager after gain, I think you would not have allowed yourself to be deceived, and would have kept your relative's money, and inherited it, according to your story, one day or other. Directly people expect to make a large interest, their judgment seems to desert them ; and because they wish for profit, they think they are sure of it, and disregard all warnings and all prudence. Besides the hundreds of honest families who have been ruined by merely placing confidence in this Association of yours, and who deserve the heartiest pity, there are hundreds more who have embarked in it, like yourself, not for investinent, but for speculation ; and these, upon my word, deserve the fate they have met with. As long as dividends are paid, no questions are asked ; and Mr. Brough might have taken the money for his shareholders on the high-road, and they would have pocketed it, and not been too curious. But what's the use of talking ? " says Mr. Commissioner, in a passion : " here is one rogue detected, and a thousand dupes made ; and if another swindler starts to-morrow, there will be a thousand more of hid AND THE GREAT HOGGAETY DIAMOND 99 victims roxmd this table a year hence; and so, I suppose, to the end. And now let's go to business, gentlemen, and excuse this sermon." After giving an account of all I knew, which was very little, other gents who were employed in the concern were examined ; and I went back to prison, with my poor little wife on my arm. We had to pass through the crowd in the rooms, and my heart bled as I saw, amongst a score of others, poor Gates, Brough's porter, who had advanced every shilling to his master, and was now, with ten children, houseless and penniless in his old age. Captain Sparr was in this neighbourhood, but by no means so friendly disposed ; for while Gates touched his hat, as if I had been a lord, the little Captain came forward threatening with his bamboo-cane and swear- ing with great oaths that I was an accomplice of Brough. " Curse you for a smooth-faced scoundrel ! " says he. " What business have you to ruin an English gentleman, as you have me ? " And again he advanced with his stick. But this time, officer as he was, Gus took him by the collar, and shoved him back, and said, " Look at the lady, you brute, and hold your tongue ! " And when he looked at my wife's situation, Captain Sparr became redder for shame than he had before been for anger. " I'm sorry she's married to such a good-for-nothing," muttered he, and fell back ; and my poor wife and I walked out of the court, and back to our dismal room in the prison. It was a hard place for a gentle creature like her to be confined in ; and I longed to have some of my relatives with her when her time should come. But her grandmother could not leave the old lieutenant; and my mother had written to say that, as Mrs. Hoggarty was with us, she was quite as well at home with her children. "What a blessing it is for you, under your misfortunes," continued the good soul, " to have the generous purse of your aunt, for succour ! " Generous purse of my aunt, indeed ! Where could Mrs. Hoggarty be ? It was evident that she had not written to any of her friends in the country, nor gone thither, as she threatened. But as my mother had already lost so much money through my- unfortunate luck, and as she had enough to do with her little pittance to keep my sisters at home ; and as, on hearing of my condition, she would infallibly have sold her last gown to bring me aid, Mary and I agreed that we would not let her know what our real condi- tion was — bad enough ! Heaven knows, and sad and cheerless. Old Lieutenant Smith had likewise nothing but his half-pay and his rheumatism ; so we were, in fact, quite friendless. That period of my life, and that horrible prison, seem to me liKe recollections of some fever. What an awful place ! — not for loo THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH the sadness, strangely enough, as I thought, but for the gaiety of it ; for the long prison galleries were, I remember, full of life and a sort of grave bustle. All day and all night doors were clapping to and fro ; and you heard loud voices, oaths, footsteps, and laughter. Next door to our room was one where a man sold gin, under the name of tape ; and here, from morning till night, the people kept up a horrible revelry ; — and sang — sad songs some of them : but my dear little girl was, thank God ! unable to understand the most part of their ribaldry. She never used to go out till nightfall ; and all day she sat working at a little store of caps and dresses for the expected stranger — and not, she says to this day, unhappy. But the confinement sickened her, who had been used to happy country air, and she grew daily paler and paler. The Fives Court was opposite our window; and here I used, very unwillingly at first, but afterwards, I do confess, with much eagerness, to take a couple of hours' daily sport. Ah ! it was a strange place. There was an aristocracy there as elsewhere, — amongst other gents, a son of my Lord Deuceace ; and many of the men in the prison were as eager to walk with him, and talked of his family as knowingly, as if they were Bond Street bucks. Poor Tidd, especially, was one of these. Of all his fortune he had nothing left but a dressing-case and a flowered dressing-gown ; and to these possessions he added a fine pair of moustaches, with which the poor creature strutted about ; and though cursing his ill-fortune, was, I do believe, as happy whenever his friends brought him a guinea, as he had been during his brief career as a gentleman on town. I have seen sauntering dandies in watering-places ogling the women, watching eagerly for steamboats and stage-coaches as if their lives depended upon them, and strutting all day in jackets up and down the public walks. Well, there are such fellows in prison : quite as dandified and foolish, only a little more shabby — dandies with dirty beards and holes at their elbows. I did not go near what is called the poor side of the prison — I dared not, that was the fact. But our little stock of money was running low ; and my heart sickened to think what might be my dear wife's fate, and on what sort of a couch our child might be bom. But Heaven spared me that pang, — Heaven, and my dear good friend, Gus Hoskins. The attorneys to whom Mr. Smithers recommended me, told me that I could get leave to live in the rules of the Fleet, could I procure sureties to the marshal of the prison for the amount of the detainer lodged against me ; but though I looked Mr. Blatherwick hard in the face, he never offered to give the bail for me, and I knew no housekeeper in London who would procure it. There was. AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND loi however, one whom I did not know, — and that was old Mr. Hoskins, the leatherseller of Skinner Street, a kind fat gentleman, who brought his fat wife to see Mrs. Titmarsh ; and though the lady gave herself rather patronising airs (her husband being free of the Skinners' Company, and bidding fair to be Alderman, nay, Lord Mayor of the first city in the world), she seemed heartily to sympa- thise with us ; and her husband stirred and bustled about until the requisite leave was obtained, and I was allowed comparative liberty. As for lodgings, they were soon had. My old landlady, Mrs. Stokes, sent her Jemima to say that her first floor was at our service ; and when we had taken possession of it, and I offered at the end of the week to pay her bill, the good soul, with tears in her eyes, told me that she did not want for money now, and that she knew I had enough to do with what I had. I did not refiise her kindness; for, indeed, I had but five guineas left, and ought not by rights to have thought of such expensive apartments as hers ; but my wife's time was very near, and I could not bear to think that she should want for any comfort in her lying-in. The admirable woman, with whom the Misses Hoskins came every day to keep company — and very nice, kind ladies they are — recovered her health a good deal, now she was out of the odious prison and was enabled to take exercise. How gaily did we pace up and down Bridge Street and Chatham Place, to be sure ! and yet, in truth, I was a beggar, and felt sometimes ashamed of being so happy. With regard to the liabilities of the Company my mind was now made quite easy ; for the creditors could only come upon our directors, and these it was rather difficult to find. Mr. Brough was across the water ; and I must say, to the credit of that gentleman, that while everybody thought he had run away with hundreds of thousands of poimds, he was in a garret at Boulogne, with scarce a shilling in his pocket, and his fortune to make afresh. Mrs. Brough, like a good brave woman, remained faithful to him, and only left Fulham with the gown on her backj and Miss Belinda, though grumbling and sadly out of temper, was no better off. For the other directors, — when they came to inquire at Edinburgh for Mr. Mull, W.S., it appeared there was a gentleman of that name, who had practised in Edinburgh with good reputation until 1800, since when he had retired to the Isle of Skye ; and on being applied to, knew no more of the West Diddlesex Association than Queen Anne did. General Sir Dionysius O'Halloran had abruptly quitted Dublin, and returned to the republic of Guatemala. Mr. Shirk went into the Gazette. Mr. Macraw, M.P. and King's Counsel, I02 THE HISTOEY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH had not a single guinea in the world but what he received for at- tending our board ; and the only man seizable was Mr. Manstraw, a wealthy navy contractor, as we understood, at Chatham. He turned out to be a small dealer in marine stores, and his whole stock in trade was not worth £10. Mr. Abednego was the other director, and we have already seen what became of him. " Why, as there is no danger from the West Diddlesex," sug- gested Mr. Hoskins, senior, "should you not now endeavour to make an arrangement with your creditors ; and who can make a better bargain with them than pretty Mrs. Titmarsh here, whose sweet eyes would soften the hardest-hearted tailor or milliner that ever lived ? " Accordingly my dear girl, one bright day in February, shook me by the hand, and bidding me be of good cheer, set forth with Gus in a coach, to pay a visit to those persons. Little did I think a year before, that the daughter of the gallant Smith should ever be compelled to be a suppliant to tailors and haberdashers ; but she, Heaven bless her ! felt none of the shame which oppressed me — or said she felt none — and went away, nothing doubting, on her errand. In the evening she came back, and my heart thumped to know the news. I saw it was bad by her face. For some time she did not speak, but looked as pale as death, and wept as she kissed me. " 7ov, speak, Mr. Augustus," at last said she, sobbing ; and so Gus told me the circumstances of that dismal day " What do you think, Sam ? " says he ; " that infernal aunt of yours, at whose command you had the things, has written to the tradesmen to say that you are a swindler and impostor; that you give out that she ordered the goods ; that she is ready to drop down dead, and to take her Bible-oath she never did any such thing, and that they must look to you alone for payment. Not one of them would hear of letting you out ; and as for Mantalini, the scoundrel was so insolent that I gave him a box on the ear, and would have half-killed him, only poor Mary — Mrs. Titmarsh I mean — screamed and fainted : and I brought her away, and here she is, as ill as can be." That night, the indefatigable Gus was obliged to run post-haste for Doctor Salts, and next morning a little boy was bom, I did not know whether to be sad or happy, as they showed me the little weakly thing ; but Mary was the happiest woman, she declared, in the world, and forgot all her sorrows in nursing the poor baby ; she went bravely through her time, and vowed that it was the loveliest child in the world ; and that though Lady Tiptoff, whose confinement we read of as having taken place the same day, might have a silk bed and a fine house in Grosvenor Square, she never never could AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 103 have such a beautiful child as our dear little Gus : for after whom should we have named the boy, if not after our good kind friend ? We had a little party at the christening, and I assure you were very merry over our tea. The mother, thank Heaven ! was very well, and it did one's heart good to see her in that attitude in which I think every woman, be she ever so plain, looks beautiful — with her baby at her bosom. The child was sickly, but she did not see it ; we were very poor, but what cared she 1 She had no leisure to be sorrowful as I was : I had my last guinea now in my pocket ; and when that was gone — ah ! my heart sickened to think of what was to come, and I prayed for strength and guidance, and in the midst of my perplexities felt yet thankful that the danger of the confinement was over ; and that for the worst fortune which was to befall us, my dear wife was at least prepared, and strong in health. I told Mrs. Stokes that she must let us have a cheaper room — a garret that should cost but a few shillings ; and though the good woman bade me remain in the apartments we occupied, yet, now that my wife was well, I felt it would be a crime to deprive my kind landlady of her chief means of livelihood ; and at length she promised to get me a garret as I wanted, and to make it as comfortable as might be ; and little Jemima declared that she would be glad beyond measure to wait on the mother and the cliild. The room, then, was made ready ; and though I took some pains not to speak of the arrangement too suddenly to Mary, yet tliere was no need of disguise or hesitation ; for when at last I told her — " Is that all ? " said she, and took my hand with one of her blessed smiles, and vowed that she and Jemima would keep the room as pretty and neat as possible. " And I will cook your dinners," added she ; " for you know you said I make the best roly-poly puddings in the world." God bless her ! I do think some women almost love poverty : but I did not tell Mary how poor I was, nor had she any idea how lawyers', and prison's, and doctors' fees had diminished the sum of money which she brought me when we came to the Meet. It was not, however, destined that she and her child shoiUd in- habit that little garret. We were to leave our lodgings on Monday morning ; but on Saturday evening the child was seized with con- vulsions, and all Simday the mother watched and prayed for it: but it pleased God to take the innocent infant from us, and on Sunday, at midnight, it lay a corpse in its mother's bosom. Amen. We have other children, happy and well, now round about us, and from the father's heart the memory of this little thing has ahnost faded ; but I do believe that every day of her life the mother thinks of the firstborn that was with her for so short a while : many and 104 THE HISTOEY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH many a time has she taken her daughters to the grave, in Saint Bride's, where he lies buried; and she wears still at her neck a little little lock of gold hair, which she took from the head of the infant as he lay smiling in his coiBn. It has happened to me to forget the child's birthday, but to her never; and often in the midst of common talk comes something that shows she is thinking of the child still, — some simple allusion that is to me inexpressibly affecting. I shall not try to describe her grief, for such things are sacred and secret ; and a man has no business to place them on paper for all the world to read. Nor should I have mentioned the child's loss at all, but that even that loss was the means of a great worldly blessing to us ; as my wife has often with tears and thanks acknowledged. While my wife was weeping over her child, I am ashamed to say I was distracted with other feelings besides those of grief for its loss; and I have often since thought what a master — nay, destroyer — of the affections want is, and have learned from expe- rience to be thankful for daily bread. That acknowledgment of weakness which we make in imploring to be relieved from hunger and from temptation, is surely wisely put in our daily prayer. Think of it, you who are rich, and take heed how you turn a beggar away. The chUd lay there in its wicker cradle, with its sweet tixed smile in its face (I think the angels in heaven must have been glad to welcome that pretty innocent smile) ; and it was only the next day, after my wife had gone to lie down, and I sat keeping watch by it, that I remembered the condition of its parents, and thought, I can't tell with what a pang, that I had not money left to bury the little thing, and wept bitter tears of despair. Now, at last, I thought I must apply to my poor mother, for this was a sacred necessity ; and I took paper, and wrote her a letter at the baby's side, and told her of our condition. But, thank Heaven ! I never sent the letter ; for as I went to the desk to get sealing-wax and seal that dismal letter, my eyes fell upon the diamond-pin that I had quite forgotten, and that was lying in the drawer of the desk. I looked into the bedroom, — my poor wife was asleep ; she had been watching for three nights and days, and had fallen asleep from sheer fatigue ; and I ran out to a pawnbroker's with the diamond, and received seven guineas for it, and coming back, put the money into the landlady's hand, and told her to get what was needful. My wife was still asleep when I came back; and when she woke, we per- suaded her to go downstairs to the landlady's parlour; and mean- while the necessary preparations were made, and the poor child consigned to its coffin. AND THE GEEAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 103 The next day, after all was over, Mrs. Stokes gave me back three out of the seven guineas ; and then I could not help sobbing out to her my doubts and wretchedness, telling her that this was the last money I had ; and when that was gone I knew not what was to become of the best wife that ever a man was blest with. My wife was downstairs with the woman. Poor Gus, who was with me, and quite as much affected as any of the party, took me by the arm, and led me downstairs ; and we quite forgot aU about the prison and the rules, and walked a long long way across Blackfriars Bridge, the kind fellow striving as much as possible to console me. When we came back, it was in the evening. The first person who met me in the house was my kind mother, who fell into my arms with many tears, and who rebuked me tenderly for not having told her of my necessities. She never should have known of them, she said ; but she had not heard from me since I wrote announcing the birth of the chUd, and she felt uneasy about my silence ; and meeting Mr. Smithers in the street, asked from him news concerning me : whereupon that gentleman, with some Uttle show of alarm, told her that he thought her daughter-in-law was confined in an uncomfort- able place ; that Mrs. Hoggarty had left us ; finally, that I was in prison. This news at once despatched my poor mother on her travels, and she had only just come from the prison, where she learned my address. I asked her whether she had seen my wife, and how she found her. Rather to my amaze she said that Mary was' out with the landlady when she arrived ; and eight — nine o'clock came, and she was absent stUL At ten o'clock returned — not my wife, but Mrs. Stokes, and with her a gentleman, who shook hands with me on coming into the room, and said, " Mr. Titmarsh, I don't know whether you will remember me : my name is Tiptoff. I have brought you a note from Mrs. Titmarsh, and a message from my wife, who sincerely commiserates your loss, and begs you wiU not be uneasy at Mrs. Titmarsh's absence. She has been good enough to promise to pass the night with Lady Tiptoff; and I am sure you will not object to her being away from you, while she is giving happiness to a sick mother and a sick child." After a few more words, my Lord left us. My wife's note only said that Mrs. Stokes would tell me all. CHAPTER XIII IN WHICH IT IS SHOWN THAT A GOOD WIFE IS THE BEST DIAMOND A MAN CAN WEAR IN HIS BOSOM MRS. TITMARSH, ma'am," says Mrs. Stokes, "before I gratify your curiosity, ma'am, permit me to observe that angels is scarce ; and it's rare to have one, much more two, in a family. Both your son and your daughter-in-law, ma'am, are of that uncommon sort ; they are, now, reely, ma'am." My mother said she thanked God for both of us; and Mrs. Stokes proceeded : — "When the fu when the seminary, ma'am, was concluded this morning, your poor daughter-in-law was glad to take snelter in my humble parlour, ma'am ; where she wept, and told a thousand stories of the little cherub that's gone. Heaven bless us ! it was here but a month, and no one could have thought it could have done such a many things in that time. But a mother's eyes are clear, ma'am; and I had just such another angel, my dear little Antony, that was bom before Jemima, and would have been twenty- three now were he in this wicked world, ma'am. However, I won't speak of him, ma'am, but of what took place. " You must know, ma'am, that Mrs. Titmarsh remained down- stairs while Mr. Samuel was talking with his friend Mr. Hoskins ; and the poor thing would not touch a bit of dinner, though we had it made comfortable ; and after dinner, it was with difficulty I could get her to sup a little drop of wine-and-water, and dip a toast in it. It was the first morsel that had passed her lips for many a long hour, ma'am. " Well, she would not speak, and I thought it best not to inter- rupt her ; but she sat and looked at my two youngest that were playing on the rug; and just as Mr. Titmarsh and his friend Gus went out, the boy brought the newspaper, ma'am, — it always comes from three to four, and I began a-reading of it. But I couldn't read much, for thinking of poor Mr. Sam's sad face as he went out, and the sad story he told me about his money being so low ; and every now and then I stopped reading, and bade Mrs. T. not to take on so ; and told her some stories about my dear little Antony. AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 107 " ' Ah ! ' says she, sobbing, and looking at the young ones, ' you have other children, Mrs. Stokes; but that — that was my only one;' and she flung back in her chair, and cried fit to break her heart : and I knew that the cry would do her good, and so went back to my paper — the Morning Post, ma'am ; I always read it, for I like to know what's a-going on in the West End. " The very first thing that my eyes lighted upon wa8 this : — 'Wanted, immediately, a respectable person as wet-nurse. Apply at No. — Grosvenor Square.' ' Bless us and save us ! ' says I, ' here's poor Lady Tiptofif ill ; ' for I knew her Ladyship's address, and how she was confined on the very same day with Mrs. T. ; and, for the matter of that, her Ladyship knows my address, having visited here. " A sudden thought came over me. ' My dear Mrs. Titmarsh,' said I, ' you know how poor and how good your husband is 1 ' " ' Yes,' says she, rather surprised. '"Well, my dear,' says I, looking her hard in the face, 'Lady Tiptoff, who knows him, wants a nurse for her son. Lord Poynings. Will you be a brave woman, and look for the place, and mayhap replace the httle one that God has taken from you ? ' " She began to tremble and blush ; and then I told her what you, Mr. Sam, had told me the other day about your money matters ; and no sooner did she hear it than she sprung to her bonnet, and said, ' Come, come : ' and in five minutes she had me by the arm, and we walked together to Grosvenor Square. The air did her no harm. Mr. Sam, and during the whole of the walk she never cried but once, and then it was at seeing a nursery-maid in the Square. " A great feUow in livery opens the door, and says, ' You're the forty-fifth as come about this 'ere place ; but, fiist, let me ask you a preliminary question. Are you a Hirishwoman ? ' " No, sir,' says Mrs. T. " ' That suffishnt, mem,' says the gentleman in plush ; ' I see you're not by your axnt. Step this way, ladies, if you please. You'll find some more candidix for the place upstairs ; but I sent away forty-four happlicants, because they was Hirish.' "We were taken upstairs over very soft carpets, and brought into a room, and told by an old lady who was there to speak very softly, for my Lady was only two rooms off. And when I asked how the baby and her Ladyship were; the old lady told me both were pretty well : only the doctor said Lady Tiptoff was too delicate to nurse any longer ; and so it was considered necessary to have a wet-nurse. "There was another young woman in the room — a tall fine io8 THE HISTOEY OP SAMUEL TITMARSH woman as ever you saw — that looked very angry and contempshious at Mrs. T. and me, and said, ' I've brought a letter from the duchess whose daughter I nust; and I think, Mrs. Blenkinsop, mem, my Lady Tiptoff may look far before she finds such another nuss as me. Five feet six high, had the smallpox, married to a corporal in the Lifeguards, perfectly healthy, best of charactiers, only drink water ; and as for the child, ma'am, if her Ladyship had six, I've a plenty for them all.' "As the woman was making this speech, a little gentleman in black came in fi-om the next room, treading as if on velvet. The woman got up, and made him a low curtsey, and folding her arms on her great broad chest, repeated the speech she had made before. Mrs. T. did not get up from her chair, but only made a sort of a bow ; which, to be sure, I thought was ill manners, as this gentle- man was evidently the apothecary. He looked hard at her and said, ' Well, my good woman, and are you come about the place too ? ' " ' Yes, sir,' says she, blushing. "'You seem very delicate. How old is your child? How many have you had 1 What character have you ? ' " Your wife didn't answer a word ; so I stepped up, and said, ' Sir,' says I, ' this lady has just lost her first child, and isn't used to look for places, being the daughter of a captain in the navy ; so you'll excuse her want of manners in not getting up when you came in.' " The doctor at this sat down and began talking very kindly to her ; he said he was afraid that her application would be unsuc- cessfiil, as Mrs. Homer came very strongly recommended from the Duchess of Doncaster, whose relative Lady Tiptoflf was ; and pre- sently my Lady appeared, looking very pretty, ma'am, in an elegant lace-cap and a sweet muslin robe-de-sham. " A nurse came out of her Ladyship's room with her ; and while my Lady was talking to us, walked up and down in the next room with something in her arms. " First, my Lady spoke to Mrs. Horner, and then to Mrs. T. ; but all the while she was talking, Mrs. Titmarsh, rather rudely, as I thought, ma'am, was looking into the next room : looking — ^looking at the baby there with all her might. My Lady asked her her name, and if she had any character; and as she did not speak, I spoke up for her, and said she was the wife of one of the best men in the world; that her Ladyship knew the gentleman, too, and had brought him a haunch of venison. Then Lady Tiptoff looked up quite astonished, and I told the whole story : how you had been head clerk, and that rascal, Brough, had brought you to ruin. ' Poor thing ! ' said my Lady : Mrs. Titmarsh did not speak. AND THE GEEAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 109 but still kept looking at the baby; and the great big grenadier of a Mrs. Homer looked angrily at her. " ' Poor thing ! ' says my Lady, taking Mrs. T.'s hand very kind, ' she seems very young. How old are you, my dear 1 ' " ' Five weeks and two days ! ' says your wife, sobbing. " Mrs. Homer burst into a laugh ; but there was a tear in my Lady's eyes, for she knew what the poor thing was arthinking of " ' Silence, woman ! ' says she angrily to the great grenadier woman ; and at this moment the child in the next room began crying. "As soon as your wife heard the noise, she sprang from her chair and made a step forward, and put both her hands to her breast and said, ' The child — the child — give it me ! ' and then began to cry again. " My Lady looked at her for a moment, and then ran into the next room and brought her the baby ; and the baby clung to her as if he knew her : and a pretty sight it was to see that dear woman with the child at her bosom. "Wben my Lady saw it, what do you think she did? After looking on it for a bit, she put her arms round your wife's neck and kissed her. " ' My dear,' said she, ' I am sure you are as good as you are pretty, and you shall keep the child : and I thank God for sending you to me ! ' " These were her very words ; and Dr. Bland, who was standing by, says, ' It's a second judgment of Solomon ! ' " ' I suppose, my Lady, you don't want me ? ' says the big woman, with another curtsey. " • Not in the least ! ' answers my Lady haughtily, and the grenadier left the room : and then I told aR your story at fuU length, and Mrs. Blenkinsop kept me to tea, and I saw the beautiful room that Mrs. Titmarsh is to have next to Lady Tiptoff 's ; and when my Lord came home, what does he do but insist upon coming back with me here in a hackney-coach, as he said he must apologise to you for keeping your wife away." I could not help, in my own mind, connecting this strange event which, in the midst of our sorrow, came to console us, and in our poverty to give us bread, — I could not help connecting it with the diamqndrpin, and fancying that the disappearance of that ornament had somehow brought a different and a better sort of luck into my family. And though some gents who read this, may call me a poor- spirited fellow for allowing my wife to go out to service, who was bred a lady and ought to have servants herself: yet, for my part, I confess I did not feel one minute's scruple or mortification on the no THE HISTOEY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH subject. If you love a person, is it not a pleasure to feel obliged to him 1 And this, in consequence, I felt. I was proud and happy at •being able to think that my dear wife should be able to labour and earn bread for me, now misfortune had put it out of my power to support me and her. And now, instead of making any reflections of my own upon prison discipline, I wiU recommend the reader to consult that admirable chapter in the Life of Mr. Pickwick in which the same theme is handled, and which shows how silly it is to deprive honest men of the means of labour just at the moment when they most want it. What could I do? There were one or two gents in the prison who could work (literary gents, — one wrote his "Travels in Mesopotamia," and the other his "Sketches at Almack's," in the place) ; but all the occupation I could find was walking down Bridge Street, and then up Bridge Street, and staring at Alderman Waithman's windows, and then at the black man who swept the crossing. I never gave him anything ; but I envied him his trade and his broom, and the money that continually fell into his old hat. But I was not allowed even to carry a broom. Twice or thrice — for Lady Tiptoff did not wish her little boy often to breathe the air of such a close place as Salisbury Square — my dear Mary came in the thundering carriage to see me. They were merry meetings ; and — if the truth must be told — twice, when nobody was by, I jumped into the carriage and had a drive with her ; and when I had seen her home, jumped into another hackney- coach and drove back. But this was only twice ; for the system was dangerous, and it might bring me into trouble^ and it cost three shillings firom Grosvenor Square to Ludgate HUL Here meanwhile, my good mother kept me company; and what should we read of one day but the marriage of Mrs. wHoggarty and the Rev. Grimes Wapshot ! My mother, who never loved Mrs. H., now said that she should repent aU her life having allowed me to spend so much of my time with that odious ungrateful woman ; and added that she and I too were justly punished for worshipping the mammon of unrighteousness and forgetting our natural feelings for the sake of my aunt's paltry lucre. " Well, Amen ! " said I. " This is the end of all our fine schemes ! My aunt's money and my aunt's diamond were the causes of my ruin, and now they are clear gone, thank Heaven ! and I hope the old lady will be happy ; and I must say I don't envy the Rev. Grimes Wapshot." So we put Mrs. Hoggarty out of our thoughts, and made ourselves as comfortable as might be. Rich and great people are slower in making Christians of their children than we poor ones, and little Lord Poynings was not christened until the month of June. A duke was one godfather, AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND iii and Mr. Edmund Preston, the State Secretary, another; and that kind Lady Jane Preston, whom I have before spoken of, was the godmother to her nephew. She had not long been made acquainted with my wife's history; and both she and her sister loved her heartily and were very kind to her. Indeed, there was not a single soul in the house, high or low, but was fond of that good sweet creature ; and the very footmen were as ready to serve her as they were their own mistress. "I tell you what, sir," says one of them. "You see. Tit, my boy, I'm a connyshure, and up to snough; and if ever I see a lady in my life, Mrs. Titmarsh is one. I can't be fimihar with her — I've tried " " Have you, sir 1 " said I. " Don't look so indignant ! I can't, I say, be finuliar with her as I am with you. There's a somethink ui her, a jennysquaw, that haws me, sir ! and even my Lord's own man, that 'as 'ad as much success as any gentleman in Europe — ^he says that, cuss him " " Mr. Charles," says I, " teU my Lord's own man that, if he wants to keep his place and his whole skin, he will never address a single word to that lady but such as a servant should utter in the presence of his mistress ; and take notice that I am a gentle- man, though a poor one, and will murder the first man who does her wrong ! " Mr. Charles only said " Gammin ! " to this : but psha ! in bragging about my own spirit, I forgot to say what great good- fortune my dear wife's conduct procured for me. On the christening-day, Mr. Preston offered her first a five, aud then a twenty-pound note; but she decUned either; but she did not decline a present that the two ladies made her together, and this was no other than my release from the Fleet. Lord Tiptoff's lawyer paid every one of the bills against me, and that happy christening-day made me a free man. Ah ! who shall teU the pleasure of that day, or the merry dinner we had in Mary's room at Lord Tiptoff's house, when my Lord and my Lady came upstairs to shake hands with me ! " I have been speaking to Mr. Preston," says my Lord, " the gentleman with whom you had the memorable quarrel, and he has forgiven it, although he was in the wrong, and promises to do something for you. "We are going down, meanwhile, to his house at Richmond ; and be sure, Mr. Titmarsh, I wiU not fail to keep you in his mind." "Mrs. Titmarsh wiU do that," says my Lady; "for Edmund is woefully smitten with her ! " And Mary blushed, and I laughed, iiz THE HISTORY OP SAMUEL TITMARSH and we were all very happy: and sure enough there came from Eichmond a letter to me, stating that I was appointed fourth clerk in the Tape and Sealing-wax Oface, with a salary of £80 per annum. Here perhaps my story ought to stop ; for I was happy at last, and have never since, thank Heaven ! known want : but Gus insists that I should add how I gave up the place in the Tape and Sealing-wax Office, and for what reason. That excellent Lady Jane Preston is long gone, and so is Mr. P off in an apoplexy, and there is no harm now in telling the story. The fact was, that Mr. Preston had fallen in love with Mary in a much more serious way than any of us imagined; for I do believe he invited his brother-in-law to Richmond for no other purpose than to pay court'to his son's nurse. And one day, as I was coming post-haste to thank him for the place he had procured for me, being directed by Mr. Charles to the "scrubbery," as he called it, which led down to the river — there, sure enough, I found Mr. Preston, on his knees too, on the gravel-walk, and before him Mary, holding the little lord. " Dearest creature ! " says Mr. Preston, " do but listen to me, and I'U make your husband consul at Timbuctoo ! He shall never know of it, I teU you : he can never know of it. I pledge you my word as a Cabinet Minister ! Oh, don't look at me in that arch way : by heavens, your eyes kill me ! " Mary, when she saw me, burst out laughing, and ran down the lawn ; my Lord making a huge crowing, too, and holding out his little fat hands. Mr. Preston, who was a heavy man, was slowly getting up, when, catching a sight of me looking as fierce as the crater of Mount Etna, — he gave a- start back and lost his footing, and rolled over and over, walloping into the water at the garden's edge. It was not deep, and he came bubbling and snorting out again in as much fright as fury. " You d — d ungrateful villain ! " says he, " what do you stand there laughing for 1 " "I'm waiting your orders for Timbuctoo, sir," says I, and laughed fit to die ; and so did my Lord Tiptoff and his party, who joined us on the lawn : and Jeames the footman came forward and helped Mr. Preston out of the water. '■' Oh, you old sinner ! " says my Lord, as his brother-in-law came^ up the slope. " Will that heart of yours be always so susceptible, you romantic, apoplectic, immoral man ? " Mr. Preston went away, looking blue with rage, and ill-treated his wife for a whole month afterwards. " At any rate," says my Lord, " Titmarsh here has got a place AND THE GKEAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 113 through our friend's unhappy attachment ; and Mrs. Titmarsh haa only laughed at him, so there is no hann there. It's an ill wind that blows nobody good, you know." " Such a wind as that, my Lord, with due respect to you, shall never do good to me. I have learned in the past few years what it is to make friends with the mammon of unrighteousness; and that out of such friendship no good comes in the end to honest men. It shall never be said that Sam Titmarsh got a place because a great man was in love with his wife ; and were the situation ten times as valuable, I should blush every day I entered the oflBice- doors in thinking of the base means by which my fortune was made. You have made me free, my Lord ; and, thank God ! I am willing to work. I can easily get a clerkship with the assistance of my friends ; and with that and my wife's income, we can manage honestly to face the world." This rather long speech I made with some animation ; for, look you, I was not over weU pleased that his Lordship should think me capable of speculating in any way on my wife's beauty. My Lord at first turned red, and looked rather angry ; but at last he held out his hand and said, " You are right, Titmarsh, and I am wrong ; and let me teU you in confidence, that I think you are a very honest fellow. You shan't lose by yoiu: honesty, I promise you." Nor did I : for I am at this present moment Lord Tiptoflf s steward and right-hand man : and am I not a happy father 1 and is not my wife loved and respected by aU the country 1 and is not Gus Hosldns my brother-in-law, partner with his excellent father in the leather way, and the delight of all his nephews and nieces for his tricks and fun 1 As for Mr. Brough, that gentleman's history would fiU a volume of itself Since he vanished from the London world, he has become celebrated on the Continent, where he has acted a thousand parts, and met all sorts of changes of high and low fortune. One thing we may at least admire in the man, and that is, his undaunted courage ; and I can't help thinking, as I have said before, that there must be some good in him, seeing the way in which his family are feithful to him. With respect to Roundhand, I had best also speak tenderly. The case of Roundhand v. Tidd is stiU in the memory of the public ; nor can I ever understand how BiU Tidd, so poetic as he was, could ever take on with such a fat, odious, vulgar woman as Mrs. R., who was old enough to be his mother. As soon as we were in prosperity, Mr. and Mrs. Grimes Wapshot made overtures to be reconciled to us ; and Mr. Wapshot laid bare to me all the baseness of Mr. Smithers's conduct in the Brough 114 THE HISTOKY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH transaction. Smithers had also endeavoured to pay his court to me, once when I went down to Somersetshire ; but I cut his pre- tensions short, as I have shown. " He it was," said Mr. Wapshot, " who induced Mrs. Grimes (Mrs. Hoggarty she was then) to pur- chase the West Diddlesex shares : receiving, of course, a large bonus for himself. But directly he found that Mrs. Hoggarty had fallen into the hands of Mr. Brough, and that he should lose the income he made from the lawsuits with her tenants and from the manage- ment of her landed property, he determined to rescue her from that villain Brough, and came to town for the purpose. He also," added Mr. Wapshot, "vented his malignant slander against me; but Heaven was pleased to frustrate his base schemes. In the pro- ceedings consequent on Brough's bankruptcy, Mr. Smithers could not appear ; for his own share in the transactions of the Company would have been most certainly shown up. During his absence from London, I became the husband — the happy husband — of your aunt. But though, my dear sir, I have been the means of bringing her to grace, I cannot disguise from you that Mrs. W. has faults which all my pastoral care has not enabled me to eradicate. She is close of her money, sir — very close; nor can I make that charitable use of her property which, as a clergyman, I ought to do ; for she has tied up every shilling of it, and only allows me half-a-crown a week for pocket-money. In temper, too, she is very violent. During the first years of our union, I strove with her ; yea, I chastised her ; but her perseverance, I must confess, got the better of me. I make no more remonstrances, but am as a lamb in her hands, and she leads me whithersoever she pleases." Mr. Wapshot concluded his tale by borrowing half-arcrown from me (it was at the Somerset Coffee-house in the Strand, where he came, in the year 1832, to wait upon me), and I saw him go from thence into the gin-shop opposite, and come out of the gin-shop half-an-hour afterwards, reeling across the streets, and perfectly intoxicated. He died next year: when his widow, who called herself Mrs. Hoggarty-Grimes-Wapshot, of Castle Hoggarty, said that over the grave of her saint aU earthly resentments were forgotten, and pro- posed to come and live with us ; paying us, of course, a handsome remuneration. But this oflfer my wife and I respectfully declined ; and once more she altered her will, which once more she had made in our favour ; called us ungrateful wretches and pampered menials, and left all her property to the Irish Hoggarties. But seeing my wife one day in a carriage with Lady Tiptofi", and hearing that we had been at the great ball at Tiptoff Castle, and that I had grown to be a rich man, she changed her mind again, sent for me on her AND THE GKEAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND 115 death-bed, and left me the farms of Slopperton and Squashtail, with all her savings for fifteen years. Peace be to her soul ! for certainly she left me a very pretty property. Though I am no literary man myself, my cousin Michael (who generally, when he is short of coin, comes down and passes a few months with us) says that my Memoirs may be of some use to the public (meaning, I suspect, to himself) ; and if so, I am glad to serve him and them, and hereby take feireweU : bidding all gents who peruse this, to be cautious of their money, if they have it ; to be still more cautious of their friends' money; to remember that great profits imply great risks ; and that the great shrewd capitalists of this country would not be content with four per cent, for their money, if they could securely get more : above all, I entreat them never to embark in any speculation, of which the conduct is not perfectly clear to them, and of which the agents are not perfectly open and loyal. THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTURES MAJOR GAHAGAN THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTURES OF MAJOR GAHAGAN CHAPTER I " TRUTH IS STRANGE, STRANGER THAN FICTION" I THINK it but right that in makLng my appearance before the public I should at once acquaint them with my titles and name. My card, as I leave it at the houses of the nobility, my Mends, is as foUows : — MAJOB GOLIAH O'GBADY OAHAGAN, H.E.I.G.S., Cormna/nding Battalion of Irregular Horse, ABUEDNUCIGAR. Seeing, I say, this simple visiting ticket, the world will avoid any of those awkward mistakes as to my person, which have been so frequent of late. There has been no end to the blunders regarding this humble title of mine, and the confiision thereby created. When I published my volume of poems, for instance, the Morning Post newspaper remarked "that the Lyrics of the Heart, by Miss Gahagan, may be ranked among the sweetest flowrets of the present spring season." The Quarterly Review, commenting upon my "Observations on the Pons Asinorum" (4:to, London, 1836), called me " Doctor Gahagan," and so on. It was time to put an end to these mistakes, and I have taken the above simple remedy. t20 THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTURES OP I was urged to it by a very exalted personage. Dining in August last at the palace of the T — 1-r-es at Paris, the lovely young Duch-ss of Orl — ns (who, though she does not speak English, understands it as well as I do), said to me in the softest Teutonic, " Lieber Herr Major, haben sie den Ahmednuggarischen- jager-battalion gelassen?" "Warum denn?" said I, quite aston- ished at her K— 1 H ss's question. The P — cess then spoke of some trifle from my pen, which was simply signed Goliah Gahagan. There was, unluckily, a dead silence as H.R.H. put this question. " Comment done?" said H.M. Lo-is Ph-l-ppe, looking gravely at Count Mold ; " le cher Major a qaitU I'armde ! Nicolas done sera maitre de I'lnde ! " H. M and the Pr. M-n-ster pursued their conversation in a low tone, and left me, as may be imagined, in a dreadful state of confusion. I blushed and stuttered, and murmured out a few incoherent words to explain — but it would not do — I could not recover my equanimity during the course of the dinner; and while endeavouring to help an English Duke, my neighbour, to poulet & VAusterlitz, fairly sent seven mushrooms and three large greasy cro4fes over his whiskers and shirt-frill. Another laugh at my expense. " Ah ! M. le Major," said the Q of the B-lg — ns archly, " vous n'aurez jamais votre brevet de Colonel." Her M y's joke wiU be better understood when I state that his Grace is the brother of a Minister. I am not at liberty to violate the sanctity of private life, by mentioning the names of the parties concerned in this little anecdote. I only wish to have it understood that 1 am a gentleman, and live at least in decent society. Verbum sat. : But to be serious. I am obliged always to write the name of Goliah in full, to distinguish me from my brother, Gregory Gahagan, who was also a Major (in the King's service), and whom I killed in a duel, as the public most likely knows. Poor Greg ! a verj' trivial dispute was the cause of our quarrel, which never would have originated but for the similarity of our names. The circum- stance was this : I had been lucky enough to render the Nawaub of Lucknow some trifling service (in the notorious affair of Choprasjee Muckjee), and his Highness sent down a gold toothpick-case directed to Captain G. Gahagan, which I of course thought was for me : my brother madly claimed it ; we fought, and the consequence was, that in about three minutes he received a slash in the right side (cut 6), which effectually did his business : — he was a good swordsman enough — I was the best in the universe. The most ridiculous part of the affair is, that the toothpick-case was his, after all — he MAJOK GAHAGAN 121 had left it on the Nawaub's table at tiffin. I can't conceive what madness prompted him to fight about such a paltry bauble ; he had much better have yielded it at once, when he saw I was determined to have it. From this slight specimen of my adventures, the reader will perceive that my life has been one of no ordinary interest; and, in fact, I may say that I have led a more remarkable life than any man in the service — I have been at more pitched battles, led more forlorn hopes, had more success among the fair sex, drunk harder, read more, been a handsomer man than any officer now serving Her Majesty. When I first went to India in 1802, I was a raw cornet of seventeen, with blazing red hair, six feet four in height, athletic at all kinds of exercises, owing money to my tailor and everybody else who would trust me, possessing an Irish brogue, and my full pay of j6120 a year. I need not say that with all these advantages I did that which a number of clever fellows have done before me — I fell in love, and proposed to marry immediately. But how to overcome the difficulty'! — It is true that I loved Julia Jowler — loved her to madness ; but her father intended her for a Member of Council at least, -and not for a beggarly Irish ensign. It was, however, my fate to make the passage to India (on board of the Samuel Snob East Indiaman, Captain Duify) with this lovely creature, and my misfortune instantaneously to fall in love with her. We were not out of the Channel before I adored her, worshipped the deck which she trod upon, kissed a thousand times the cuddy-chair on which she used to sit. The same madness fell on every man in the ship. The two mates fought about her at the Cape ; the surgeon, a sober pious Scotchman, from disappointed affection, took so dreadfully to drinking as to threaten spontaneous combustion ; and old Colonel Lilywhite, carrying his wife and seven daughters to Bengal, swore that he would have a divorce fi-om Mrs. L., and made an attempt at suicide ; the captain himself told me, with tears in his eyes, that he hated his hitherto adored Mrs. Duffy, although he had had nineteen children by her. We used to call her the witch — there was magic in her beauty and in her voice. I was spell-bound when I looked at her, and stark staring mad when she looked at me ! lustrous black eyes ! — glossy night-black ringlets !— lips !— dainty frocks of white muslin ! — tiny kid slippers ! — though old and gouty, Gahagan sees you still ! I recollect, off Ascension, she looked at me in her parti- cular way one day at dinner, just as I happened to be blowing on a piece of scalding hot green fat. I was stupefied at once — I thrust the entire morsel (about half a pound) into my mouth. I made no attempt to swallow, or to masticate it, but left it there for many minutes, burning, burning ! I had no skin to my palate for seven 122 THE TEEMENDOUS ADVENTURES OF weeks after, and lived on rice water during the rest of the voyage. The anecdote is trivial, but it shows the power of Julia Jowler over me. The writers of marine novels have so exhausted the subject of storms, shipwrecks, mutinies, engagements, sea-sickness, and so forth, that (although I have experienced each of these in many varieties) I think it quite vmnecessary to recount such trifling adventures; sufGice it to say, that during our five months' Vrajet, my mad passion for Julia daily increased ; so did the captain's and the surgeon's ; so did Colonel LUywhite's ; so did the doctor's, the mate's — that of most part of the passengers, and a considerable number of the crew. For myself, I swore — ensign as I was — I would win her for my wife; I vowed that I would make her glorious with my sword — that as soon as I had made a favourable impression on my commanding officer (which I did not doubt to create), I would lay open to him the state of my affections, and demand his daughter's hand. With such sentimental outpourings did our voyage continue and conclude. We landed at the Sunderbunds on a grilling hot day in December 1802, and then for the moment Julia and I separated. She was carried off to her papa's arms in a palankeen, surrounded by at least forty hookahbadars ; whilst the poor cornet, attended but by two dandies and a solitary beasty (by which unnatural name these blackamoors are called), made his way humbly to join the regiment at headquarters. The — th Eegiment of Bengal Cavalry, then under the command of Lieut. -Colonel Julius Jowler, C.B., was known throughout Asia and Europe by the proud title of the Bundelcund Invincibles — so great was its character for bravery, so remarkable were its services in that delightful district of India. Major Sir George Gutch was next in command, and Tom Thrupp, as kind a fellow as ever ran a Mahratta through the body, was second Major. We were on the eve of that remarkable war which was speedily to spread throughout the whole of India, to call forth the valour of a WeUesley, and the indomitable gallantry of a Gahagan ; which was illustrated by our victories at Ahmednuggar (where I was the first over the barricade at the storming of the Pettah) ; at Argaum, where I slew with my own sword twenty-three matchlock-men, and cut a dromedary in two; and by that terrible day of Assaye, where WeUesley would have been beaten but for me — me alone : I headed nineteen charges of cavalry, took (aided by only four men of my own troop) seventeen field-pieces, killing the scoundrelly French artillerymen; on that day I had eleven elephants shot under me, and carried away Scindiah's nose-ring with a pistol-ball. WeUesley is a Duke and a Marshal, MAJOE GAHAGAN 123 I but a simple Major of Irregulars. Such is fortune and war ! But my feelings carry me away from mji narrative, which had better proceed with more order. On arriving, I say, at our barracks at Dum Dum, I for the first time put on the beautiful uniform of the Invincibles : a light blue swallow-tailed jacket with silver lace and wings, ornamented with about 3000 sugar-loaf buttons, rhubarb-coloured leather inexpressibles (tights), and red morocco boots with silver spurs and tassels, set off to admiration the handsome persons of the officers of our corps. We wore powder in those days; and a regulation pigtail of seventeen inches, a brass helmet surrounded by leopard skin, with a bearskin top and a horsetail feather, gave the head a fierce and chivalrous appearance, which is far more easily imagined than described. Attired in this magnificent costume, I first presented myself before Colonel Jowler. He was habited in a manner precisely similar, but not being more than five feet in height, and weighing at least fifteen stone, the dress he wore did not become him quite so much as slimmer and taUer men. Flanked by his tall Majors, Thrupp and Gutch, he looked like a stumpy skittle-baU between two attenuated skittles. The plump little Colonel received me with vast cordiaUty, and I speedily became a prime fevourite with himself and the other officers of the corps. Jowler was the most hospitable of men; and gratifying my appetite and my love together, I continually partook of his dinners, and feasted on the sweet presence of Julia. I can see now, what I would not and could not perceive in those early days, that this Miss Jowler — on whom I had lavished my first and warmest love, whom I had endowed with all perfection and purity — was no better than a little impudent fiirt, who played with my feehngs, because during the monotony of a sea voyage she had no other toy to play with ; and who deserted others for me, and me for others, just as her whim or her interest might guide her. She had not been three weeks at headquarters when half the regiment was in love with her. Each and all of the candidates had some favour to boast of, or some encoura^g hopes on which to buQd. It was the scene of the Samuel Snob over again, only heightened in interest by a number of duels. The following list will give the reader a notion of some of them : — 1. Comet Gahagan . . Ensign Hicks, of the Sappers and Miners. Hicks received a ball in his jaw, and was half choked by a quantity of carroty whisker forced down his throat with the ball. 124 THE TEEMENDOUS ADVENTUEES OF 2. Captain MacgiUicUddy, Cornet Gahagan. I was run B.N.I. , through the body, but the sword passed between the ribs, and in- jured me very slightly. 3. Captain Macgillicuddy, Mr. Mulligatawny, B.O.S., Deputy- B.N.I. Assistant Vice Sub-Controller of the Boggley woUah Indigo grounds, Eamgolly branch. Macgillicuddy should have stuck to sword's play, and he might have come oflf in his second duel as well as in his first j as it was, the civilian placed a ball and a part of Mac's gold repeater in his stomach. A remarkable circumstance attended this shot, an account of which I sent home to the " Philosophical Transactions " : the surgeon had extracted the ball, and was going ofi", thinking that all was well, when the gold repeater struck thirteen in poor Macgilli- cuddy's abdomen. I suppose that the works must have been disarranged in some way by the bullet, for the repeater was one of Barraud's, never known to fail before, and the circumstance occurred at seven o'clock.* I could continue, almost ad infmitum, an account of the wars which this Helen occasioned, but the above three specimens will, I should think, satisfy the peaceful reader. I delight not in scenes of blood. Heaven knows, but I was compelled in the course of a few weeks, and for the sake of this one woman, to fight nine duels myself, and I know that four times as many more took place concerning her. I forgot to say that Jowler's wife was a half-caste woman, who had been born and bred entirely in India, and whom the Colonel had married from the house of her mother, a native. There were some singular rumours abroad regarding this latter lady's history : it was reported that she was the daughter of a native Eajah, and had been carried off by a poor English subaltern in Lord Clive'3 time. The young man was killed very soon after, and left his child with its mother. The black Prince forgave his daughter and bequeathed to her a handsome sum of money. I suppose that it was on this account that Jowler married Mrs. J., a creature who * So admirable are the performances of these watches, which will stand in any climate, that I repeatedly heard poor Macgillicuddy relate the following fact. The hours, as it is known, count in Italy from one to twenty-four : the day Mac landed at Naples his repeater rung the Italian hours, from one to twenty-four; as soon as he crossed the Alps it only sounded as usual,— G. O'G.G. MAJOE GAHAGAN 125 had not, I do believe, a Christian name, or a single Christian quality: she was a hideous, bloated, yeUow creature, with a beard, black teeth, and red eyes : she was fat, lying, ugly, and stingy — she hated and was hated by all the world, and by her jolly husband as devoutly as by any other. She did not pass a month in the year with him, but spent most of her time with her native friends. I wonder how she could have given birth to so lovely a creature as her daughter. This woman was of course with the Colonel when Julia arrived, and the spice of the devil in her daughter's composition was most carefully nourished and fed by her. If Julia had been a flirt before, she was a downright jilt now ; she set the whole cantonment by the ears ; she made wives jealous and husbands miserable ; she caused all those duels of which I have discoursed already, and yet such was the fascination of the witch that I stiU thought her an angel. I made court to the nasty mother in order to be near the daughter; and I listened untiringly to Jowler's interminable dull stories, because I was occupied all the time in watching the graceful movements of Miss Julia. But the trumpet of war was soon ringing in our ears ; and on the battle-field Gahagan is a man ! The Bundelcund Invincibles received orders to march, and Jowler, Hector-Uke, donned his helmet and prepared to part from his Andromache. And now arose his perplexity : what must be done with his daughter, his Julia ? He knew his wife's peculiarities of living, and did not much care to trust his daughter to her keeping ; but in vain he tried to find her an asylum among the respectable ladies of his regiment. Lady Gutch offered to receive her, but would have nothing to do with Mrs. Jowler ; the surgeon's wife, Mrs. Sawbone, would have neither mother nor daughter : there was no help for it, Julia and her mother must have a house together, and Jowler knew that his wife would fill it with her odious blackamoor friends. I could not, however, go forth satisfied to the campaign until I learned from Julia my fate. I watched twenty opportunities to see her alone, and wandered about the Colonel's bungalow as an informer does about a public-house, marking the incomings and the outgoings of the family, and longing to seize the moment when Miss Jowler, unbiassed by her mother or her papa, might listen, perhaps, to my eloquence, and melt at the tale of my love. But it would not do — old Jowler seemed to have taken all of a sudden to such a fit of domesticity, that there was no finding him ouf of doors, and his rhubarb-coloured wife (I believe that her skin gave the first idea of our regimental breeches), who before had been gadding ceaselessly abroad, and poking her broad nose into every menage in the cantonment, stopped faithfiilly at home with her 126 THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTUEES OF spouse. My only chance was to beard the old couple in their den, and ask them at once for their cub. So I called one day at tiffin : — old Jowler was always happy to have my company at this meal ; it amused him, he said, to see me drink Hodgson's pale ale (I drank two hundred and thirty-four dozen the first year I was in Bengal)— ^and it was no small piece of fun, certainly, to see old Mrs. Jowler attack the currie-bhaut ; — she was exactly the colour of it, as I have had already the honour to remark, and she swallowed the mixture with a gusto which was never equalled, except by my poor friend Dando a propos d'huitres. She consumed the first three platefuls with a fork and spoon, like a Christian; but as she warmed to her work, the old hag would throw away her silver implements, and dragging the dishes towards her, go to work with her hands, flip the rice into her mouth with her fingers, and stow away a quantity of eatables sufficient for a sepoy company. But why do I diverge from the main point of my story ? Julia, then, Jowler, and Mrs. J., were at luncheon; the dear girl was in the act to sabler a glass of Hodgson as I entered. " How do you do, Mr. Gagin?" said the old hag leeringly. "Eat a hit o' currie-bhaut," — and she thrust the dish towards me, securing a heap as it passed. " What ! Gagy my boy, how do, how do ? " said the fat Colonel. " What ! run through the body 1 — got well again — have some Hodgson — run through your body too ! " — and at this, I may say, coarse joke (alluding to the fact that in these hot climates the ale oozes out as it were from the pores of the skin) old Jowler laughed : a host of swarthy chobdars, kitmatgars, sices, consomahs, and bobbychies laughed too, as they provided me, im- asked, with the gratefid fluid. Swallowing six tumblers of it, I paused nervously for a moment, and then said — " Bobbachy, consomah, ballybaloo hoga." The black ruffians took the hint, and retired. " Colonel and Mrs. Jowler," said I solemnly, " we are alone ; and you, Miss Jowler, you are alone too ; that is — I mean — I take this opportunity to — (another glass of ale, if you please) — to ex- press, once for all, before departing on a dangerous campaign'' — (Julia turned pjile) — "before entering, I say, upon a war which may stretch in the dust my high-raised hopes and me, to express my hopes while life stUl remains to me, and to declare in the face of heaven, earth, and Colonel Jowler, that I love you, Julia ! " The Colonel, astonished, let fall a steel fork, which stuck quivering for some minutes in the calf of my leg ; but I heeded not the paltry interruption. " Yes, by yon bright heaven," continued I, " I love you, Julia ! I respect my commander, I esteem your excellent and MAJOR GAHAGAN 127 beauteous mother : tell me, before I leave you, if I may hope for a return of my aflfection. Say that you love me, and I -will do such deeds in this coming war, as shall make you proud of the name of your Gahagan." The old woman, as I delivered these touching words, stared, snapped, and ground her teeth, like an enraged monkey. Julia was now red, now white ; the Colonel stretched forward, took the fork out of the calf of my leg, wiped it, and then seized a bundle of letters which I had remarked by his side. " A cornet ! " said he, in a voice choking with emotion ; " a pitiful beggarly Irish comet aspire to the hand of Julia Jowler ! Gag — Gahagan, are you mad, or laughing at us? Look at these letters, young man — at these letters, I say — one hundred and twenty-four epistles from every part of India (not including one from the Governor-General, and six from his brother. Colonel WeUesley) — one hundred and twenty-four proposals for the hand of Miss Jowler ! Comet Grahagan," he continued, " I wish to think well of you: you are the bravest, the most modest, and, perhaps, the handsomest man in our corps ; but you have not got a single rupee. You ask me for Julia, and you do not possess even an anna ! " — (Here the old rogue grinned, as if he had made a capital pun.) — "No, no," said he, waxing good-natured; "Gagy my boy, it is nonsense ! Julia love, retire with your mamma ; this siUy young gentleman wiU remain and smoke a pipe with me." I took one : it was the bitterest chillum I ever smoked in my life. I am not going to give here an account of my military services ; they will appear in my great national autobiography, in forty volumes, which I am now preparing for the press. I was with my regiment in all Wellesley's brilliant campaigns ; then taking dawk, I travelled across the country north-eastward, and had the honour of fighting by the side of Lord Lake at Laswaree, Degg, Furrackar bad, Futtyghur, and Bhurtpore : but I will not boast of my actions — the military man knows them, my soveeeign appreciates them. If asked who was the bravest man of the Indian army, there is not an of&cer belonging to it who would not cry at once, Gahagan. The fact is, I was desperate : I cared not for life, deprived of Julia Jowler. With Julia's stony looks ever before my eyes, her father s stern refusal in my ears, I did not care, at the close of the campaign, again to seek her company or to press my suit. We were eighteen months on service, marching and counter-marching, and fighting almost every other day : to the world I did not seem altered ; but 128 THE TEEMENDOUS ADVENTUEES OF the world only saw the face, and not the seared and blighted heart within me. My valour, always desperate, now reached to a pitch of cruelty; I tortured my grooms and grass-cutters for the most trifling offence or error, — I never in action spared a man, — I sheared off three hundred and nine heads in the course of that single campaign. Some influence, equally melancholy, seemed to have fallen upon poor old Jowler. About six months after we had left Dum Dum, he received a parcel of letters from Benares (whither his wife had retired with her daughter), and so deeply did they seem to weigh upon his spirits, that he ordered eleven men of his regiment to be flogged within two days; but it was against the blacks that he chiefly turned his wrath. Our fellows, in the heat and hurry of the campaign, were in the habit of dealing rather roughly with their prisoners, to extract treasure from them : they used to pull their naUs out by the root, to boil them in kedgeree pots, to flog them and dress their wounds with cayenne pepper, and so on. Jowler, when he heard of these proceedings, which before had always justly exasperated him (he was a humane and kind little man), used now to smile fiercely and say, " D ■ the black scoundrels ! Serve them right, serve them right ! " One day, about a couple of miles in advance of the column, I had been on a foraging-party with a few dragoons, and was returning peaceably to camp, when of a sudden a troop of Mahrattas burst on us from a neighbouring mango-tope, in which they had been hidden : in an instant three of my men's saddles were empty, and I was left with but seven more to make head against at least thirty of these vagabond black horsemen. I never saw in my life a nobler figure than the leader of the troop — mounted on a splendid black Arab ; he was as tall, very nearly, as myself; he wore a steel cap and a shirt of mail, and carried a beautiful French carbine, which had already done execution upon two of my men. I saw that our only chance of safety lay in the destruction of this man. I shouted to him in a voice of thunder (in the Hindustanee tongue of course), " Stop, dog, if you dare, and encounter a man ! " In reply his lance came whirling in the air over my head, and mortally transfixed poor Foggarty of ours, who was behind me. Grinding my teeth and swearing horribly, I drew that scimitar which ' never yet failed its blow,* and rushed at the Indian. He came down at fuU gallop, his own sword making ten thousand gleaming circles in the air, shrieking his cry of battle. The contest did not last an instant. With my first blow I cut * In my affair with Maogillicuddy, I was fool enough to go out with small swords : — miserahle weapons, only iit for tailors. — G. O'G. G. MAJOE GAHAGAN 1Z9 off his sword-arm at the wrist ; my second I levelled at his head. I said that he wore a steel cap, with a gilt iron spike of six inches, and a hood of chain mail. I rose in my stirrups and delivered " St. George ; " my sword caught the spike exactly on the point, split it sheer in two, cut crashing through the steel cap and hood, and was only stopped by a ruby which he wore in his back-plate. His head, cut clean in two between the eyebrows and nostrils, even between the two front teeth, feU one side on each shoulder, and he galloped on till his horse was stopped by my men, who were not a little amused at the feat. As I had expected, the remaining ruffians fled on seeing their leader's fate. I took home his helmet by way of curiosity, and we made a single prisoner, who was instantly carried before old Jowler, We asked the prisoner the name of the leader of the troop : he said it was Chowder LoU. " Chowder LoU ! " shrieked Colonel Jowler. " Fate ! thy hand is here ! " He rushed wildly into his tent — the next day applied for leave of absence. Gutch took the command of the regiment, and I saw him no more for some time. As I had distinguished myself not a little during the war. General Lake sent me up with despatches to Calcutta, where Lord WeHesley received me with the greatest distinction. Fancy my surprise, on going to a ball at Government House, to meet my old friend Jowler ; my trembling, blushing, thrilling delight, when I saw Julia by his side ! Jowler seemed to blush too when he beheld me. I thought of my former passages with his daughter. " Gagy, my boy," says he, shaking hands, " glad to see you. Old friend, Julia — come to tiffin — Hodgson's pale — brave feUow, Gagy." Julia did not speak, but she turned ashy pale, and fixed upon me her awful eyes ! I fainted almost, and uttered some incoherent words. Julia took my hand, gaaed at me still, and said, " Come ! " Need I say I went 1 I will not go over the pale ale and currie-bhaut again ! but this I know, that in half-an-hour I was as much in love as I ever had been : and that in three weeks I — yes, I — was the accepted lover of Julia ! I did not pause to ask where were the one hundred and twenty-four offers? why I, refused before, should be accepted now? I only felt that I loved her, and was happy ! One night, one memorable night, I could not sleep, and, with a lover's pardonable passion, wandered solitary through the City of Palaces until I came to the house which contained my Julia. I peeped into the compound — all was still ; I 'ooked into the verandah 3 I »30 THE TREMENDOUS ADVENT0EES OP — all was dark, except a light — yes, one light — and it was in Julia's chamber ! My heart throbbed almost to stifling. I would — I would advance, if but to gaze upon her for a moment, and to bless her as she slept. I did look, I did advance ; and, Heaven ! I saw a lamp burning, Mrs. Jow. in a nightdress, with a very dark baby in her arms, and Julia looking tenderly at an ayah, who was nursing another. "Oh, mamma," said Julia, "what would that fool Gahagan say if he knew all?" " He does know all I " shouted I, springing forward, and tearing down the tatties from the window. Mrs. Jow. ran shrieking out of the room, Julia fainted, the cursed black children squalled, and their d — d nurse fell on her knees, gabbling some infernal jargon of Hindustanee. Old Jowler at this juncture entered with a candle and a drawn sword. " Liar ! scoundrel ! deceiver ! " shouted I. " Turn, ruffian, and defend yourself ! " But old Jowler, when he saw me, only whistled, looked at his lifeless daughter, and slowly left the room. Why continue the tale ? I need not now account for Jowler's gloom on receiving his letters from Benares — for his exclamation upon the death of the Indian chief — for his desire to marry his daughter : the woman I was wooing was no longer Miss JuUa Jowler ; she was Mrs. Chowder Loll ! CHAPTER II ALLYGHUR AND LASWAREE 1SAT down to ■write gravely and sadly, for (since the appearance of some of my adventures in a monthly magazine) unprincipled men have endeavoured to rob me of the only good I possess, to question the statements that I make, and, themselves -without a spark of honour or good feeling, to steal from me that which is my sole wealth — my character as a teller of the tetjth. The reader wiU understand that it is to the illiberal strictures of a profligate press I now allude ; among the London journalists, none (luckily for themselves) have dared to question the veracity of my statements : they know me, and they know that I am in London. If I can use the pen, I can also wield a more manly and terrible weapon, and would answer their contradictions with my sword ! No gold or gems adorn the hilt of that war-worn scimitar; but there is blood upon the blade — the blood of the enemies of my country, and the maUgners of my honest fame. There are others, however — the disgrace of a disgraceful trade — who, borrowing from distance a despicable courage, have ventured to assail me. The infamous editors of the Kelso Champion, the Bvmgay Beacon, the Tipperary Argus, and the StoTce Pogis Sentinel, and other dastardly organs of the provincial press, have, although differing in pohtics, agreed upon this one point, and, with a scoundrelly unanimity, vented a flood of abuse upon the revelations made by me. They say that I have assailed private characters, and wilfully perverted history to blacken the reputation of public men. I ask, Was any one of these men in Bengal in the year 1803 ? Was any single conductor of any one of these paltry prints ever in Bimdelcund or the Eohilla country ? Does this exquisite Tipperary scribe know the difference between Hurrygurrybang and BurrumtoUah ? Not he ! and because, forsooth, in those strange and distant lands strange circumstances have taken place, it is insinuated that the relater is a liar : nay, that the very places themselves have no existence but in my imagination. Fools ! — but I will not waste my anger upon them, and proceed to recount some other portions of my persona] history. 132 THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTURES OP It is, I presume, a fact which even these scribbling assassins wUl not venture to deny, that before the commencement of the campaign against Scindiah, the English General formed a camp at Kanouge on the Jumna, where he exercised that brilliant little army which was speedily to perform such wonders in the Dooab. It will be as well to give a slight account of the causes of a war which was speedily to rage through some of the fairest portions of the Indian continent. Shah Allum, the son of Shah LoUum, the descendant by the female line of Nadir Shah (that celebrated Toorkomaun adventurer, who had well-nigh hurled Bajazet and Sehm the Second from the throne of Bagdad) — Shah AUum, I say, although nominally the Emperor of Delhi, was in reality the slave of the various warlike chieftains who lorded it by turns over the country and the sovereign, until conquered and slain by some more successful rebel. Chowder Loll Masolgee, Zubberdust Khan, Dowsunt Row Scindiah, and the celebrated Bobbachy Jung Bahawder, had held for a time complete mastery in Delhi. The second of these, a ruthless Afghan soldier, had abruptly entered the capital ; nor was he ejected from it until he had seized upon the principal jewels, and likewise put out the eyes of the last of the unfortunate family of AfrasiS,b. Scindiah came to the rescue of the sightless Shah Allum, and though he destroyed his oppressor, only increased his slavery; holding him in as painful a bondage as he had suffered under the tyrannous Afghan. As long as these heroes were battling among themselves, or as long rather as it appeared that they had any strength to fight a battle, the British Government, ever anxious to see its enemies by the ears, by no means interfered in the contest. But the French Revolution broke out, and a host of starving sans-culottes appeared among the various Indian States, seeking for military service, and inflaming the minds of the various native princes against the British East India Company. A number of these entered into Scindiah's ranks : one of them. Perron, was commander of his army ; and though that chief was as yet quite engaged in his hereditary quarrel with Jeswunt Row Holkar, and never thought of an invasion of the British territory, the Company all of a sudden discovered that Shah Allum, his sovereign, was shamefully ill-used, and determined to re-establish the ancient splendour of his throne. Of course it was sheer benevolence for poor Shah AUum that prompted our governors to take these kindly measures in his favour. I don't know how it happened that, at the end of the war, the poor Shah was not a whit better off than at the beginning ; and that though Holkar was beaten, and Scindiah annihilated. Shah AJlum MAJOR GAHAGAN 133 was much such a puppet as before. Somehow, in the hurry and confusion of this struggle, the oyster remained with the British Government, who had so kindly offered to dress it for the Emperor, while his Majesty was obliged to be contented with the shell. The force encamped at Kanouge bore the title of the Grand Army of the Ganges and the Jumna ; it consisted of eleven regi- ments of cavalry and twelve battalions of infantry, and was com- manded by General Lake in person. Well, on the 1st of September we stormed Perron's camp at Allyghur ; on the 4th we took that fortress by assault ; and as my name was mentioned in general orders, I may as well quote the Commander-in-Chief's words regarding me — they will spare me the trouble of composing my own eulogium : — "The Commander-in-Chief is proud thus publicly to declare his high sense of the gallantry of Lieutenant GaJiagan, of the Cavalry. In the storming of the fortress, although unprovided with a single ladder, and accompanied but by a few brave men, Lieutenant Gahagan succeeded in escalading the inner and fourteenth wall of the place. Fourteen ditches lined with sword-blades and poisoned chevaux-de-fiise, fourteen walls bristling with innumerable artillery and as smooth as looking-glasses, were in turn triumphantly passed by that enterprising officer. His course was to be traced by the heaps of slaughtered enemies lying thick upon the platforms ; and alas ! by the corpses of most of the gallant men who followed him ! When at length he effected his lodgment, and the dastardly enemy, who dared not to confront him with arms, let loose upon him the tigers and lions of Scindiah's menagerie, this meritorious officer destroyed, with his own hand, four of the largest and most ferocious animals, and the rest, awed by the indomitable majesty of British valour, shrank back to their dens. Thomas Higgory, a private, and Runty Goss, havildar, were the only two who remained out of the nine hundred who followed Lieutenant Gahagan. Honour to them ! Honour and tears for the brave men who perished on that awfiil day ! " I have copied this, word for word, from the Bengal Hurharu of September 24, 1803 : and anybody who has the slightest doubt as to the statement, may refer to the paper itself. And here I must pause to give thanks to Fortune, whibh so marvellously preserved me, Sergeant-Major Higgory, and Runty Goss. Were I to say that any valour of ours had carried us unhurt through this tremendous combat, the reader would laugh me to scorn. No ; though my narrative is extraordinary, it is nevertheless t34 THE TKEMENDOUS ADVENTUEES OF authentic: and never never would I sacrifice truth for the mere sake of effect. The fact is this : — the citadel of AUyghur is situated upon a rock, about a thousand feet above the level of the sea, and is surrounded by fourteen walls, as his Excellency was good enough to remark in his despatch. A man who would mount these without scaling-ladders is an ass ; he who would say he mounted them without such assistance, is a liar and a knave. We had scaling- ladders at the commencement of the assault, although it was quite impossible to carry them beyond the first line of batteries. Mounted on them, however, as our troops were falling thick about me, I saw that we must ignominiously retreat, unless some other help could be found for our brave fellows to escalade the next wall. It was about seventy feet high. I instantly turned the guns of wall A on wall B, and peppered the latter so as to make, not a breach, but a scaling place ; the men mounting in the holes made by the shot. By this simple stratagem, I managed to pass each successive barrier — for to ascend a wall which the General was pleased to call " as smooth as glass " is an absurd impossibility : I seek to achieve none such : — " I dare do all that may become a man ; Who dares do more, is neither more nor less. '' Of course, had the enemy's guns been commonly well served, not one of us would ever have been alive out of the three ; but whether it was owing to fright, or to the excessive smoke caused by so many pieces of artillery, arrive we did. On the platforms, too, our work was not quite so difficult as might be imagined — killing these fellows was sheer butchery. As soon as we appeared, they all turned and fled helter-skelter, and the reader may judge of their courage by the fact that out of about seven hundred men killed by us, only forty had wounds in front, the rest being bayoneted as they ran. And beyond all other pieces of good fortune was the very letting out of these tigers ; which was the dernier ressort of Boumonville, the second commandant of the fort. I had observed this man (con- spicuous for a tricoloured scarf which he wore) upon every one of the walls as we stormed them, and running away the very first among the fugitives. He had all the keys of the gates ; and in his tremor, as he opened the menagerie portal, left the whole bunch in the door, which I seized when the animals were overcome. Eunty Goss then opened them one by one, our troops entered, and the victorious standard of my country floated on the walls of AUyghur ! When the General, accompanied by his staff, entered the last line of fortifications, the brave old man raised me from the dead rhinoceros on which I was seated, and pressed me to his breast. But the excitement which had borne me through the fatigues and MAJOK GAHAGAN 135 perils of that fearful day failed all of a sudden, and I wept like a child upon his shoulder. Promotion, in our army, goes unluckily by seniority ; nor is it in the power of the General-in-Chief to advance a Caesar, if he finds him in the capacity of a subaltern : my reward for the above exploit was, therefore, not very rich. His Excellency had a favourite horn snuff-box (for, though exalted in station, he was in his habits most simple) : of this, and about a quarter of an ounce of high-dried Welsh, which he always took, he made me a present, saying, in front of the line, " Accept this, Mr. Gahagan, as a token of respect from the first to the bravest officer in the army." Calculating the snuff to be worth a halfpenny, I should say that fourpence was about the value of this gift : but it has at least this good effect — it serves to convince any person who doubts my story, that the facts of it are really true. I have left it at the office of my publisher, along with the extract from the Bengal Hurkaru, and anybody may examine both by applying in the counting-house of Mr. Cunningham.* That once popular expression, or proverb, "Are you up to snuff 1" arose out of the above circumstance; for the officers of my corps, none of whom, except myself, had ventured on the storming party, used to twit me about this modest reward for my labours. Never mind ! when they want me to storm a fort again, I shall know better. "Well, immediately after the capture of this important fortress. Perron, who had been the life and soul of Scindiah's army, came in to us, with his family and treasure, and was passed over to the French settlements at Ohandemagur. Bourquien took his com- mand, and against him we now moved. The morning of the 11th of September found us upon, the plains of Delhi. It was a burning hot day, and we were all refreshing ourselves after the morning's march, when I, who was on the advanced picket along with O'Gawler, of the King's Dragoons, was made aware of the enemy's neighbourhood in a very singular manner. O'Gawler and I were seated under a little canopy of horse-cloths, which we had formed to shelter us from the intolerable heat of the sun,' and were discussing with great delight a few Manilla cheroots, and a stone jar of the most exquisite, cool, weak, refreshing sangaree. We had been playing cards the night before, and O'Gawler had lost to me seven hundred rupees. I emptied the last of the sangaree into the two pint tumblers out of which we were drinking, * The Major certainly offered to leave an old snuff-box at Mr. Cunningham's office ; but it contained no extract from a newspaper, and does not quite prove that he killed a rhinoceros and stormed fourteen entrenchments at the siege of Allyghur. 136 THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTUKES OF and holding mine up, said, "Here's better luck to you next time, O'Gawler ! " As I spoke the words — ^whish ! — a cannon-ball cut the tumbler clean out of my hand, and plumped into poor O'Gawler's stomach. It settled him completely, and of course I never got my seven hundred rupees. Such are the uncertainties of war ! To strap on my sabre and my accoutrements — to mount my Arab charger — to drink off what O'Gawler had left of the sangaree — and to gallop to the General, was the work of a moment. I found him as comfortably at tiffin as if he were at his own house in London. " General," said I, as soon as I got into his paijamahs (or tent), " you must leave your lunch if you want to fight the enemy." " The enemy — psha ! Mr. Gahagan, the enemy is on the other side of the river." "I can only tell your Excellency that the enemy's guns will hardly carry five miles, and that Cornet O'Gawler was this moment shot dead at my side with a cannon-ball." "Ha! is it so?" said his Excellency, rising, and laying down the drumstick of a grilled chicken. " Gentlemen, remember that the eyes of Europe are upon us, and follow me ! " Each aide-de-camp started from table and seized his cocked hat ; each British heart beat high at the thoughts of the coming melee. We mounted our horses, and galloped swiftly after the brave old General ; I not the last in the train, upon my famous black charger. It was perfectly true, the enemy were posted in force within three miles of our camp, and from a hillock in the advance to which we galloped, we were enabled with our telescopes to see the whole of his imposing line. Nothing can better describe it than this : — ••••«•••••••••«•*•«•••••••«•••' >«««««^^ — A is the enemy, and the dots represent the hundred and twenty pieces of artUlery which defended his line. He was, moreover, entrenched ; and a wide morass in his front gave him an additional security. His Excellency for a moment surveyed the line, and then said turning round to one of his aides-de-camp, " Order up Major-General Tinkler and the cavalry." "Here, does your Excellency meanT' said the aide-de-camp, MAJOR GAHAGAN 137 surprised, for the enemy had perceived iis, and the cannon-balls were flying about as thick as peas. " Here, sir I " said the old General, stamping with his foot in a passion, and the A.D.C. shrugged his shoulders and galloped away. In five minutes we heard the trumpets in our camp, and in twenty more the greater part of the cavalry had joined us. Up they came, five thousand men, their standards flapping in the air, their long line of polished jack-boots gleaming in the golden sunlight. " And now we are here," said Major-General Sir Theo- philus Tinkler, " what next V " Oh, d it," said the Commander- in-Chief, " charge, charge — nothing like charging — galloping — guns — rascally black scoundrels — charge, charge!" And then turning round to me (perhaps he was glad to change the conversation), he said, " Lieutenant Gahagan, you will etay with me." And well for him I did, for I do not hesitate to say that the battle was gained hy me. I do not mean to insult the reader by pretending that any personal exertions of mine turned the day, — that I killed, for instance, a regiment of cavalry or swallowed a battery of guns, — such absurd tales would disgrace both the hearer and the teller. I, as is weU known, never say a single word which cannot be proved, and hate more than all other vices the absurd sin of egotism : I simply mean that my advice to the General, at a quarter-past two o'clock in the afternoon of that day, won this great triumph for the British army. Gleig, MiU, and Thorn have all told the tale of this war, though somehow they have omitted all mention of the hero of it. General Lake, for the victory of that day, became Lord Lake of Laswaree. Laswaree ! and who, forsooth, was the real conqueror of Laswaree 1 I can lay my hand upon my heart and say that / was. If any proof is wanting of the &ct, let me give it at once, and from the highest military testimony in the world — I mean that of the Emperor Napoleon. In the month of March 1817, I was passenger on board the Prince Regent, Captain Harris, which touched at St. Helena on its passage from Calcutta to England. In company with the other officers on board the ship, I paid my respects to the illustrious exile of Longwood, who received us in his garden, where he was walking about, in a nankeen dress and a large broad-brimmed straw hat, with General Montholon, Count Las Casas, and his son Emanuel, then a little boy ; who I dare say does not recollect me, but who nevertheless played with my sword-knot and the tassels of my Hessian boots during the whole of our interview with his' Imperial Majesty. Our names were read out (in a pretty accent, by the way !) by 138 THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTURES OF General Montholon, and the Emperor, as each was pronounced, made a bow to the owner of it, but did not vouchsafe a word. At last Montholon came to mine. The Emperor looked me at once in the face, took his hands out of his pockets, put them behind his back, and commg up to me smiling, pronounced the following words : — " Assays, Delhi, Deeg, Futtyghur 1 " I blushed, and, taking off my hat with a bow, said, "Sire, c'est moi." " Parbleu ! je le savais bien," said the Emperor, holding out his snuff-box. " En usez-vous. Major 1 " I took a large pinch (which, with the honour of speaking to so great a man, brought the tears into my eyes), and he continued as nearly as possible in the follow- ing words : — "Sir, you are known; you come of an heroic nation. Your third brother, the Chef de Bataillon, Count Godfrey Gahagan, was in my Irish Brigade." GahagoM. " Sire, it is true. He and my countrymen in your Majesty's service stood under the green flag in the breach of Burgos, and beat Wellington back. It was the only time, as your Majesty knows, that Irishmen and Englishmen were beaten in that war." Napoleon {looking as if he would say, " D yowr candowr. Major Gahagan "). " "Well, well ; it was so. Your brother was a Count, and died a General in my service." Gahagan. " He was found lying upon the bodies of nine-and- twenty Cossacks at Borodino. They were all dead, and bore the Gahagan mark." Napoleon (to Montholon). " C'est vrai, Montholon : je vous donne ma parole d'honneur la plus sacr^e, que c'est vrai. lis ne sont pas d'autres, ces terribles Ga'gans. You must know that Monsieur gained the battle of Delhi as certainly as I did that of Austerlitz. In this way : — Ce b^Htre de Lor Lake, after calling up his cavalry, and placing them in front of Holkar's batteries, qui balayaient la plaine, was for charging the enemy's batteries with his horse, who would have been dcrasds, mitraillfe, foudroyds to a man but for the cunning of ce grand rogue que vous voyez." Montholon. " Coquin de Major, va ! " Napoleon. " Montholon ! tais-toi. When Lord Lake, with his great bull-headed English obstinacy, saw the fdcheuse position into which he had brought his troops, he was for dying on the spot, and would infallibly have done so — and the loss of his army would have been the ruin of the East India Company — and the ruin of the English East India Company would have established my Empire (bah ! it was a repubhc then !) in the East — but that the man MAJOR GAHAGAN 139 before us, Lieutenant Goliah Gahagan, was riding at the side of General Lake." Montholon {with an accent of despair and fwry). " Gredin ! cent mille tonnerres de Dieu ! " Napoleon (benignantly). " Calme-toi, men fidMe ami. What will you? It was fate. Gahagan, at the critical period of the battle, or rather slaughter (for the English had not slain a man of the enemy), advised a retreat." Montholon. " Le llche ! Un Fran9ais meurt, mais il ne recule jamais." Napoleon. " Stupide ! Don't you see why the retreat was ordered? — don't you know that it was a feint on the part of Gahagan to draw Holkar from his impregnable entrenchments? Don't you know that the ignorant Indian fell into the snare, and issuing from behind the cover of his guns, came down with his cavab-y on the plains in pursuit of Lake and his dragoons ? Then it was that the Englishmen turned upon him; the hardy children of the North swept down his feeble horsemen, bore them back to their guns, which were useless, entered Holkar's entrenchments along with his troops, sabred the artillerymen at their pieces, and won the battle of Delhi ! " As the Emperor spoke, his pale cheek glowed red, his eye flashed fire, his deep clear voice rung as of old when he pointed out the enemy from beneath the shadow of the Pyramids, or rallied his regiments to the charge upon the death-strewn plain of Wagram. I have had many a proud moment in my life, but never such a proud one as this ; and I would readily pardon the word " coward," as applied to me by Montholon, in consideration of the testimony which his master bore in my favour. " Major," said the Emperor to me in conclusion, " why had I not such a man as you in my service ? I would have made you a Prince and a Marshal ! " and here he fell into a reverie, of which I knew and respected the purport. He was thinking, doubtless, that I might have retrieved his fortunes ; and indeed I have very little doubt that I might. Very soon after coffee was brought by Monsieur Marchand, Napoleon's valet-de-chambre, and after partaking of that beverage, and talking upon the politics of the day, the Emperor withdrew, leaving me deeply impressed by the condescension he had shown in this remarkable interview. CHAPTER III A PEEP INTO SPAIN— ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGIN AND SERVICES OF THE AHMEDNUGGAR IRREGULARS Hbadquartebs, Morella : September 15, 1838. 1HAVE been here for some months, along with my young friend Cabrera ; and in the hurry and bustle of war — daily on guard and in the batteries for sixteen hours out of the twenty-four, with fourteen severe wounds and seven musket-balls in my body — it may be imagined that I have had little time to think about the publication of my memoirs. Inter arma silent leges — in the midst of fighting be hanged to writing ! as the poet says ; and I never would have bothered myself with a pen, had not common gratitude incited me to throw off a few pages. Along with Oraa's troops, who have of late been beleaguering this place, there was a young Milesian gentleman, Mr. Toone O'Connor Emmett Fitzgerald Sheeny by name, a law student, and a member of Gray's Inn, and what he called Bay Ah of Trinity College, Dublin. Mr. Sheeny was with the Queen's people, not in a military capacity, but as representative of an English journal ; to which, for a trifling weekly remuneration, he was in the habit of transmitting accounts of the movements of the belligerents, and his own opinion of the politics of Spain. Eeceiving, for the discharge of his duty, a couple of guineas a week from the proprietors of the journal in question, he was enabled, as I need scarcely say, to make such a show in Oraa's camp as only a Ohristino general officer, or at the very least a colonel of a regiment, can afford to keep up. In the famous sortie which we made upon the twenty-third, I was of course among the foremost in the melde, and found myself, after a good deal of slaughtering (which it would be as disagreeable as useless to describe here), in the court of a small inn or podesta, which had been made the headquarters of several Queenite officers during the siege. The pesatero or landlord of the inn had been despatched by my brave chapel-churies, with his fine family of children — the officers quartered in the podesta had of course bolted ; but one man remained, and my fellows were on the point of cutting him into ten thousand pieces with their borachios, when I arrived MAJOE GAHAGAN 141 in the room time enough to prevent the catastrophe. Seeing before me an individual in the costume of a civilian — a white hat, a light- blue satin cravat, embroidered with butterflies and other quadrupeds, a green coat and brass buttons, and a pair of blue plaid trousers, I recognised at once a countryman, and interposed to save his life. In an agonised brogue the unhappy young man was saying all that he could to induce the chapel-churies to give up their intention of slaughtering him ; but it is very little likely that his protesta^ tions would have had any effect upon them, had not I appeared in the room, and shouted to the ruffians to hold their hand. Seeing a general officer before them (I have the honour to hold that rank in the service of His Catholic Majesty), and moreover one six feet four in height, and armed with that terrible cabecilla (a sword so called, because it is five feet long) which is so well known among the Spanish armies — seeing, I say, this figure, the fellows retired, exclaiming, "Adios, corpo di bacco nosotros," and so on, clearly proving (by their words) that they would, if they dared, have immolated the victim whom I had thus rescued from their fury. " Villains ! " shouted I, hearing them grumble, " away ! quit the apartment ! " Each man, sulkily sheathing his sombrero, obeyed, and quitted the camariUa. It was then that Mr. Sheeny detailed to me the particulars to which I have briefly adverted; and, informing me at the same time that he had a family in England who would feel obliged to me for his release, and that his most intimate friend the English Ambassador would move heaven and earth to revenge his fall, he directed my attention to a portmanteau passably well filled, which he hoped would satisfy the cupidity of my troops. I said, though with much regret, that I must subject his person to a search ; and hence arose the circumstance which has called for what I fear you wiU consider a somewhat tedious explanation. I found upon Mr. Sheeny's person three sovereigns in English money (which I have to this day), and singularly enough a copy of the New Monthly Magazine, containing a portion of my adventures. It was a toss-up whether I should let the poor young man be shot or no, but this little circumstance saved his life. The gratified vanity of author- ship induced me to accept his portmanteau and valuables, and to allow the poor wretch to go free. I put the magazine in my coat- pocket, and left him and the podesta. The men, to my surprise, had quitted the building, and it was ftill time for me to follow ; for I found our sallying party, after com- mitting dreadful ravages in Oraa's lines, were in fuU retreat upon the fort, hotly pressed by a superior force of the enemy. I am pretty well known and respected by the men of both parties in 142 THE TEEMENDOUS ADVENTUEES OF Spain (indeed I served for some months on the Queen's side before I came over to Don Carlos) ; and, as it is my maxim never to give quarter, I never expect to receive it when taken myself. On issuing from the podesta with Sheeny's portmanteau and my sword in my hand, I was a little disgusted and annoyed to see our own men in a pretty good column retreating at double-quick, and about four hundred yards beyond me, up the hill leading to the fort ; while on my left hand, and at only a himdred yards, a troop of the Queenite lancers were clattering along the road. I had got into the very middle of the road before I made this discovery, so that the fellows had a fuU sight of me, and whizz ! came a bullet by my left whisker before I could say Jack Eobinson. I looked round — there were seventy of the accursed malvados at the least, and within, as I said, a hundred yards. Were I to say that I stopped to fight seventy men, you would write me down a fool or a liar : no, sir, I did not fight, I ran away. I am six feet four — my figure is as well known in the Spanish army as that of the Count de Luchana, or my fierce Kttle friend Cabrera himself. " Gahagan ! " shouted out half-a-dozen scoundrelly voices, and fifty more shots came rattling after me. I was running — running as the brave stag before the hounds — running as I have done a great number of times before in my life, when there was no help for it but a race. After I had run about five hundred yards, I saw that I had gained nearly three upon our column in front, and that likewise the Christino horsemen were left behind some hundred yards more ; with the exception of three, who were fearfully near me. The first was an ofiicer without a lance ; he had fired both his pistols at me, and was twenty yards in advance of his comrades ; there was a similar distance between the two lancers who rode behind him. I determined then to wait for No. 1, and as he came up delivered cut 3 at his horse's near leg — off it flew, and down, as I expected, went horse and man. I had hardly time to pass my sword through my prostrate enemy, when No. 2 was upon me. If I could but get that fellow's horse, thought I, I am safe ; -and I executed at once the plan which I hoped was to effect my rescue. I had, as I said, left the podesta with Sheeny's portmanteau, and, unwilling to part with some of the articles it contained — some shirts, a bottle of whisky, a few cakes of Windsor soap, &c. &c., — I had carried it thus far on my shoulders, but now was compelled to sacrifice it malgr^ moi. As the lancer came up I dropped my sword from my right hand, and hurled the portmanteau at his head, with aim so true, that he' fell back on his saddle like a sack, and thus when the horse galloped up to me, 1 had no difficulty in dis- MAJOR GAHAGAN 143 mounting the rider: the whisky-bottle struck him over his right eye, and he was completely stunned. To dash him from the saddle and spring myself into it, was the work of a moment ; indeed, the two combats had taken place in about a fifth part of the time which it has taken the reader to peruse the description. But in the rapidity of the last encounter, and the mounting of my enemy's horse, I had committed a very absurd oversight — I was scampering away without my sword! What was I to do? — to scamper on, to be sure, and trust to the legs of my horse for safety ! The lancer behind me gained on me every moment, and I could hear his horrid laugh as he neared me. I leaned forward jockey- &shion in my saddle, and kicked, and urged, and flogged with my hand, but all in vain. Closer — closer — the point of his lance was within two feet of my back. Ah ! ah ! he delivered the point, and fancy my agony when I felt it enter- — through exactly fifty-nine pages of the New Monthly Magazine. Had it not been for that magazine, I should have been impaled without a shadow of a doubt. Was I wrong in feeling gratitude ? Had I not cause to continue my contributions to that periodical ? When I got safe into Morella, along with the tail of the sallying party, I was for the first time made acquainted with the ridicvdous result of the lancer's thrust (as he delivered his lance, I must tell you that a ball came whizz over my head from our fellows, and entering at his nose, put a stop to his lancing for the ftiture). I hastened to Cabrera's quarter, and related to him some of my adventures during the day. " But, General," said he, " you are standing. I beg you chiudete Vuseio (take a chair)." I did so, and then for the first time was aware that there was some foreign substance in the tail of my coat, which prevented my sitting at ease. I drew out the magazine which I had seized, and there, to my wonder, discovered the Christina lance twisted up like a fish-hook or a pastoral crook. " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " said Cabrera (who is a notorious wag). "Valdepenas madrileiios," growled out Tristany. " By my cachuca di caballero (upon my honour as a gentleman);" shrieked out Ros d'Eroles, convulsed with laughter, " I will send it to the Bishop of Leon for a crozier." " Gahagan has consecrated it," giggled out Ramon Cabrera ; and so they went on with their muchacas for an hour or more. But when they heard that the means of my salvation from the lance of the scoundrelly Christino had been the magazine containing my own history, their laugh was changed into wonder. I read them (speak- ing Spanish more fluently than English) every word of my story. 144 THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTURES OF " But how is this 1 " said Cabrera. " You surely have other ad- ventures to relate ? " "Excellent sir," said I, "I have;" and that very evening, as we sat over our cups of tertullia (sangaree), I continued my narrative in nearly the following words : — " I left off in the very middle of the battle of Delhi, which ended, as everybody knows, in the complete triumph of the British arms. But who gained the battle 1 Lord Lake is called Viscount Lake of Delhi and Laswaree, while Major Gaha — ^nonsense, never mind him, never mind the charge he executed when, sabre in hand, he leaped the six-foot wall in the mouth of the roaring cannon, over the heads of the gleaming pikes ; when, with one hand seizing the sacred peishcush, or fish — which was the banner always borne before Soindiah, — he, with his good sword, cut off the trunk of the famous white elephant, which, shrieking with agony, plunged madly into the Mahratta ranks, followed by his giant brethren, tossing, like chaff before the wind, the affrighted kitmatgars. He, meanwhile, now plunging into the midst of a battalion of consomahs, now cleaving to the chine a screaming and ferocious bobbachee,* rushed on, like the simoom across the red Zaharan plain, killing, with his own hand, a hundred and forty-thr -but never mind — 'alone he did it;' suffi- cient be it for him, however, that the victory was won : he cares not for the empty honours which were awarded to more fortunate men ! " We marched after the battle to Delhi, where poor blind old Shah Allum received us, and bestowed all kinds of honours and titles on our General. As each of the officers passed before him, the Shah did not fail to remark my person,! and was told my name. " Lord Lake whispered to him my exploits, and the old man was so delighted with the accoimt of my victory over the elephant (whose trunk I use to this day), that he said, ' Let him be called GujPUTi,' or the lord of elephants ; and Gujputi was the name by which I was afterwards familiarly known among the natives, — the men, that is. The women had a softer appellation for me, and called me ' Mushook,' or charmer. " Well, I shall not describe Delhi, which is doubtless well known to the reader ; nor the siege of Agra, to which place we went from Delhi ; nor the terrible day at Laswaree, which went nigh to finish the war. Suffice it to say that we were victorious, and that I was * The double-jointed camel of Baotria, which the classic reader may re- collect is mentioned by Suidas (in his Commentary on the Flight of Darius), is so called by the Mahrattas. + There is some trifling inconsistency on the Major's part. Shah Allum was notoriously blind : how, then, could he have seen Gahagan ? The thing is mani- festly impossible. MAJOR GAHAGAN 145 wounded ; as I have invariably been in the two hundred and four occasions when I have found myself in action. One point, however, became in the course of this campaign quite evident — that something must be done for Gahagan. The country cried shame, the King's troops grumbled, the sepoys openly mm-mured that their Gujputi was only a lieutenant, when he had performed such signal services. What was to be done ? Lord Wellesley was in an evident quandary. ' Gahagan,' wrote he, 'to be a subaltern is evidently not your fate — you were horn for command ; but Lake and General Wellesley are good officers, they cannot be turned out — I must make a post for you. What say you, my dear fellow, to a corps of irregulwr horse ? ' "It was thus that the famous corps of AhmednuggaeIeeegujiaiis had its origin ; a guerilla force, it is true, but one which will long be remembered in the annals of our Indian campaigns. "As the commander of this regiment, I was allowed to settle the uniform of the corps, as well as to select recruits. These were not wanting as soon as my appointment was made known, but came flocking to my standard a great deal faster than to the regular corps in the Company's service. I had European officers, of course, to command them, and a few of my countrymen as sergeants ; the rest were all natives, whom I chose of the strongest and bravest men in India; chiefly Pitans, Afghans, ^urrumzadehs, and CaUiawns : for these are well known to be the most warlike districts of our Indian territory. " When on parade and in fuU uniform we made a singular and noble appearance. I was always fond of dress ; and in this in- stance gave a carte bla/nche to my taste, and invented the most splendid costume that ever perhaps decorated a soldier. I am, as I have stated already, six feet four inches in height, and of match- less symmetry and proportion. My hair and beard are of the most brilliant auburn, so bright as scarcely to be distinguished at a distance from scarlet. My eyes are bright blue, overshadowed by bushy eyebrows of the colour of my hair, and a terrific gash of the deepest purple, which goes over the forehead, the eyelid, and the cheek, and finishes at the ear, gives my face a more strictly military appearance than can be conceived. When I have been drinking (as is pretty often the case) this gash becomes ruby bright, and as I have another which took off a piece of my under-lip, and shows five of my front teeth, I leave you to imagine that ' seldom lighted on the earth ' (as the monster Burke remarked of one of his unhappy victims) ' a more extraordinary vision.' I improved these natural advantages; and, while in cantonment during the hot winds at Chittybobbary, allowed my hair to grow very long, as did my beard, 146 THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTUEES OF which reached to my waist. It took me two hours daily to curl my hair in ten thousand little corkscrew ringlets, which waved over my shoulders, and to get my moustaches well round to the comers of my eyelids. I dressed in loose scarlet trousers and red morocco boots, a scarlet jacket, and a shawl of the same colour round my waist ; a scarlet turban three feet high, and decorated with a tuft of the scarlet feathers of the flamingo, formed my head-dress, and I did not allow myself a single ornament, except a small silver skull and cross-bones in front of my turban. Two brace of pistols, a Malay creese, and a tulwar, sharp on both sides, and very nearly six feet in length, completed this elegant costume. My two flags were each surmounted with a real skull and cross-bones, and orna- mented one with a black, and the other with a red beard (of enormous length, taken from men slain in battle by me). On one flag were of course the arms of John Company ; on the other, an image of myself bestriding a prostrate elephant, with the simple word ' GujpuTi ' written underneath in the Nagaree, Persian, and Sanscrit characters. I rode my black horse, and looked, by the immortal gods, like Mars. To me might be applied the words which were written concerning handsome General Webb, in Marl- borough's time : — ' To noble danger he conducts the way, His great example all his troop obey, Before the front the Major sternly rides, With such an air as Mars to battle strides. Propitious Heaven must sure a hero save Like Paris handsome, and like Hector brave ! ' "My officers (Captains Biggs- and Mackanulty, Lieutenants Glogger, Pappendick, Stuffle, &c. &c.) were dressed exactly in the same way, but in yellow ; and the men were similarly equipped, but in black. I have seen many regiments since, and many ferocious- looking men, but the Ahmednuggar Irregulars were more dreadful to the view than any set of rufi&ans on which I ever set eyes. I would to Heaven that the Czar of Muscovy had passed through Cabool and Lahore, and that I with my old Ahmednuggars stood on a fair field to meet him ! Bless you, bless you, my swart com- panions in victory ! through the mist of twenty years I hear the booming of your war-cry, and mark the glitter of your scimitars as ye rage in the thickest of the battle ! * * I do not wish to brag of my style of writing, or to pretend that my genius as a writer has not been equalled in former times ; but if, in the works of Byron, Scott, Goethe, or Victor Hugo, the reader can find a more beautiful sentence than the above, I will be obliged to him, that is all — I simply say, / will be obliged to hmi.—G. O'G. G., M.H.E.I.C.S., C.I.H.A. MAJOR GAHAGAN 147 " But away with melancholy reminiscences. You may fancy what a figure the Irregulars cut on a field-day — a line of five hundred black-faced, black-dressed, black-horsed, black-bearded men — Biggs, Glogger, and the other officers in yellow, galloping about the field like flashes of lightning ; myself enlightening them, red, solitary, and majestic, like yon glorious orb in heaven. "There are very few men, I presume, who have not heard of Holkar's sudden and gallant incursion into the Dooab, in the year 1804, when we thought that the victory of Laswaree and the brilliant success at Deeg had completely finished him. Taking ten thousand horse he broke up his camp at Palimbang ; and the first thing General Lake heard of him was, that he was at Putna, then at Rumpooge, then at Doncaradam — he was, in fact, in the very heart of our territory. " The imfortunate part of the afiair was this : — His Excellency, despising the Mahratta chieftain, had allowed him to advance about two thousand mUes in his front, and knew not in the slightest degree where to lay hold on him. Was he at Hazaxubaug 1 was he at Bogly Gunge? nobody knew, and for a considerable period the movements of Lake's cavalry were quite ambiguous, uncertain, pro- miscuous, and undetermined. "Such, briefly, was the state of afiairs in October 1804. At the beginning of that month I had been wounded (a trifling scratch, cutting off my left upper eyeUd, a bit of my cheek, and my under- lip), and I was obliged to leave Biggs in command of my Irregulars, whilst I retired for my wounds to an Enghsh station at Furruckabad, alias Futtyghur — it is, as every twopenny postman knows, at the apex of the Dooab. We have there a cantonment, and thither I went for the mere sake of the surgeon and the sticking-plaster. " Furruckabad, then, is divided into two districts or towns ; the lower Cotwal, inhabited by the natives, and the upper (which is fortified slightly, and has aU along been called Futtyghur, meaning in Hindustanee 'the-favourite-resort-of-the-white-faced-Feringhees- near-the-mango-tope-consecrated-to-Ram'), occupied by Europeans. (It is astonishing, by the way, how comprehensive that language is, and how much can be conveyed in one or two of the commonest phrases.) " Biggs, then, and my men were playing all sorts of wondrous pranks with Lord Lake's army, whilst I was detained an unwilling prisoner of health at Futtyghur. " An unwilling prisoner, however, I should not say. The canton- ment at Futtyghur contained that which would have made any man a happy slave. Woman, lovely woman, was there in abtindance and variety ! The fact is, that, when the campaign commenced in 1803, 148 THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTURES OF the ladies of the army all congregated to this place, -where they were left, as it was supposed, in safety. I might, like Homer, relate the names and qualities of all. I may at least mention some whose memory is stiU most dear to me. There was — " Mrs. Major-General Bulcher, wife of Bulcher of the Infantry. " Miss Bulcher. "Miss Belinda Bulchbe (whose name I beg the printer to place in large capitals). " Mrs. Colonel Vandegobbleschroy. " Mrs. Major Macan and the four Misses Macan. "The Honourable Mrs. Biu-goo, Mrs. Flix, Hicks, Wicks, and many more too numerous to mention. The flower of our camp was, however, collected there, and the last words of Lord Lake to me, as I left him, were, ' Gahagan, I commit those women to your charge. Guard them with your life, watch over them with your honour, defend them with the matchless power of your indomitable arm.' "Futtyghur is, as I have said, a European station, and the pretty air of the bungalows, amid the clustering topes of mango- trees, has often ere this excited the admiration of the tourist and sketcher. On the brow of a hill — the Burrumpooter river roUs majestically at its base ; and no spot, in a word, can be conceived more exquisitely arranged, both by art and nature, as a favourite residence of the British fair. Mrs. Bulcher, Mrs. Vandegobbleschroy, and the other married ladies above mentioned, had each of them delightful bungalows and gardens in the place, and between one cottage and another my time passed as delightfully as can the hours of any man who is away from his darling occupation of war. " I was the commandant of the fort. It is a little insignificant pettah, defended simply by a couple of gabions, a very ordinary counterscarp, and a bomb-proof embrasure. On the top of this my flag was planted, and the small garrison of forty men only were comfortably barracked off in the casemates within. A surgeon and two chapkins (there were besides three reverend gentlemen of amateur missions, who lived in the town) completed, as I may say, the garrison'of our little fortalice, which I was left to defend and to command. " On the night of the first of November, in the year 1804, I had invited Mrs. Major-General Bulcher and her daughters, Mrs. Vandegobbleschroy, and, indeed, all the ladies in the cantonment, to a little festival in honour of the recovery of my health, of the commencement of the shooting season, and indeed as a farewell visit, for it was my intention to take dawk the very next morning and return to my regiment. The three amateur missionaries whom I have mentioned, and some ladies in the cantonment of very rigid MAJOK GAHAGAN 149 religious principles, refiised to appear at my little party. They had better never have been born than have done as they did : as you shall hear. " We had been dancing merrily aU night, and the supper (chiefly of the delicate condor, the luscious adjutant, and other birds of a similar kind, which I had shot in the course of the day) had been i^J feted by every lady and gentleman present; when I took an opportunity to retire on the ramparts, with the interesting and lovely Belinda Bulcher. I was occupied, as the French say, in conter-ing Jleurettes to this sweet young creature, when, all of a sudden, a rocket was seen whizzing through the air, and a strong light was visible in the valley below the little fort. " ' What, fireworks ! Captain Gahagan,' said Belinda ; ' this is too gallant.' " ' Indeed, my dear Miss Bulcher,' said I, ' they are fireworks of which I have no idea : perhaps our friends the missionaries ' " ' Look, look ! ' said Belinda, trembling, and clutching tightly hold of my arm: 'what do I seel yes — no — yes! it is — LAW LIFE ASSUEANCE 231 " And send pa into dunghills," roared Tug. " Then you must go to operas, and pick up foreign Barons and Counts." " Oh, thank Heaven, dearest papa, that we are rid of them," cries my little Jemimarann, looking almost happy, and kissing her old pappy. " And you must make a fine gentleman of Tug there, and send him to a fine school." " And I give you my word," says Tug, " I'm as ignorant a chap as ever lived." "You're an insolent saucebox," says Jemmy; "you've learned that at your fine school." " I've learned something else, too, ma'am ; ask the boys if I haven't," grumbles Tug. " You hawk your daughter about, and just escape marrying her to a swindler." " And drive off poor Orlando," whimpered my girl. " Silence ! miss," says Jemmy fiercely. " You insult the man whose father's property you inherited, and bring me into this prison, without hope of leaving it : for he never can help us after aU yoiu: bad language." I said all this very smartly ; for the fact is, my blood was up at the time, and I determined to rate my dear girl soundly. " Oh ! Sammy," said she, sobbing (for the poor thing's spirit was quite Jbroken), " it's aU true ; I've been very very foolish and vain, and I've punished my dear husband and children by my follies, and I do so so repent them ! " Here Jemimarann at once burst out ci-ying, and flung herself into her mamma's arms, and the pair roared and sobbed for ten minutes together. Even Tug looked queer : and as for me, it's a most extraordinary thing, but I'm blest if seeing them so miserable didn't make me quite happy. ^ — I don't think, for the whole twelve months of our good fortune, I had ever felt so gay as in that dismal room in the Fleet, where I was locked up. Poor Orlando Crump came to see us every day ; and we, who had never taken the slightest notice of him in Portland Place, and treated him so cruelly that day at Beulah Spa, were only too glad of his company now. He used to bring books for my girl, and a bottle of sherry for me ; and he used to take home Jemmy's fronts and dress them for her ; and when locking-up time came, he used to see the ladies home to their little three-pair bedroom in Holbom, where they slept now. Tug and aU. "Can the bird forget its nest?" Orlando used to say (he was a romantic young fellow, that's the truth, and blew the flute and read Lord Byron incessantly, since he was separated from Jemimarann). " Can the bird, let loose in Eastenj. 232 COX'S DIAKY climes, forget its home ? Can the rose cease to remember its beloved bulbul ? — Ah, no ! Mr. Cox, you made me what I am, and what I hope to die — a hairdresser. I never see a curling-irons before I entered your shop, or knew Naples from brown Windsor. Did you not make over your house, your furniture, your emporium of per- fumery, and nine-and-twenty shaving customers, to me t Are these trifles ? Is Jemimarann a trifle t if she would allow me to call her so. Oh, Jemimarann, your pa found me in the workhouse, and made me what I am. Conduct me to my grave, and I never never shall be different ! " When he had said this, Orlando was so much affected, that he rushed suddenly on his hat and quitted the room. Then Jemimarann began to cry too. " Oh, pa ! " said she, " isn't he — isn't he a nice young man 1 " " I'm hanged if he ain't," says Tug. " What do you think of his giving me eighteenpence yesterday, and a bottle of lavender- water for Mimarann ? " " He might as well offer to give you back the shop at any rate," says Jemmy. " What ! to pay Tuggeridge's damages 1 My dear, I'd sooner die than give Tuggeridge the chance." DECEMBER— FAMILY BUSTLE TUGGEEIDGE vowed that I should finish my days there, when he put me in prison. It appears that we both had reason to be ashamed of ourselves ; and were, thank God ! I learned to be sorry for my bad feelings towards him, and he actually wrote to me to say — " Sir, — I think you have suffered enough for faults which, I believe, do not lie with you, so much as your wife; and I have withdrawn my claims which I had against you while you were in wrongful possession of my father's estates. You must remember that when, on examination of my father's papers, no will was found, I yielded up his property, with perfect willingness, to those who I fancied were his legitimate heirs. For this I received aU sorts of insults from your wife and yourself (who acquiesced in them) ; and when the discovery of a will, in India, proved my just claims, you must remember how they were met, and the vexatious proceedings with which you sought to oppose them. "I have discharged your lawyer's bill; and, as I believe you are more fitted for the trade you formerly exercised than for any other, I will give five hundred pounds for the purchase of a stock and shop, when you shall find one to suit you. " I enclose a draft for twenty pounds, to meet your present expenses. You have, I am told, a son, a boy of some spirit : if he likes to try his fortune abroad, and go on board an Indiaman, I can get him an appointment ; and am. Sir, your obedient servant, "John Tuggeeidge." It was Mrs. Breadbasket, the housekeeper, who brought this letter, and looked mighty contemptuous as she gave it. "I hope. Breadbasket, that your master will send me my things at any rate," cries Jemmy. " There's seventeen sUk and satin dresses, and a whole heap of trinkets, that can be of no earthly use to him." " Don't Breadbasket me, mem, if you please, mem. My master says that them things is quite obnoxious to your sphere of Ufe. Breadbasket, indeed ! " And so she sailed out. 234 COX'S DIARY Jemmy hadn't a word ; she had grown mighty quiet since we had been in misfortune : but my daughter looked as happy as a queen ; and Tug, when he heard of the ship, gave a jump that nearly knocked down poor Orlando. "Ah, I suppose you'll forget me now 1 " says he, with a sigh ; and seemed the only unhappy person in company. " Why, you conceive, Mr. Crump," says my wife, with a great deal of dignity, "that, connected as we are, a young man bom in a work " " Woman ! " cried I (for once in my life determined to have my own way), " hold your foolish tongue. Your absurd pride has been the ruin of us hitherto ; and, from this day, I'll have no more of it. Hark ye, Orlando, if you will take Jemimarann, you may have her ; and if you'U take five hundred pounds for a half share of the shop, they're yours ; and that's for you, Mrs. Cox." And here we are, back again. And I write this from the old back shop, where we are all waiting to see the new year in. Orlando sits yonder, plaiting a wig for my Lord Chief Justice, as happy as may be ; and Jemimarann and her mother have been as busy as you can imagine aU day long, and are just now giving the finishing touches to the bridal-dresses : for the wedding is to take place the day after to-morrow. I've cut seventeen heads off (as I say) this very day ; and as for Jemmy, I no more mind her than I do the Emperor of China and all his Tambarins. Last night we had a merry meeting of our friends and neighbours, to celebrate our re- appearance among them ; and very merry we aU were. We had a capital fiddler, and we kept it up till a pretty tidy hour this morning. We begun with quadriUs, but I never cotild do 'em well ; and after that, to please Mr. Crump and his intended, we tried a gaUopard, which I found anything but easy; for since I am come back to a life of peace and comfort, it's astonishing how stout I'm getting. So we turned at once to what Jemmy and me excels in — a country dance ; which is rather surprising, as we was both brought up to a town Hfe. As for young Tug, he showed off in a sailor's hornpipe : which Mrs. Cox says is very proper for him to learn, now he is intended for the sea. But stop ! here comes in the punchbowls ; and if we are not happy, who is ? I say I am like the Swish people, for I can't flourish out of my native hair. THE MEMOIRS OF MR. CHARLES J. YELLOWPLUSH THE MEMOIRS OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH SOMETIME FOOTMAN IN MANY GENTEEL FAMILIES MISS S HUM'S HUSBAND CHAPTER I I WAS born in the year one of the present or Christian hera, and am, in conequints, seven-and-thirty years old. My mamma called me Charles James Harrington Fitzroy Yellowplush, in compliment to several noble families, and to a sellybrated coachmin whom she knew, who wore a yellow livry, and drove the Lord Mayor of London. Why she gev me this genlmn's name is a diflSklty, or rayther the name of a part of his dress ; however, it's stuck to me through life, in whicJi I was, as it were, a footman by buth. Praps he was my father — though on this subjict I can't speak suttinly, for my ma wrapped up my buth in a mistry. I may be illygitmit, I may have been changed at nuss ; but I've always had genlmnly tastes through life, and have no doubt that I come of a genlmnly origum. The less I say about my parint the better, for the dear old creatur was very good to me, and, I fear, had very little other goodness in her. Why, I can't say ; but I always passed as her nevyou. We led a strange life; sometimes ma was dressed in sattn and rooge, and sometimes in rags and dutt ; sometimes I got kisses, and sometimes kix ; sometimes gin, and sometimes shampang ; law bless us ! how she used to swear at me, and cuddle me ; there we were, quarrelling and making up, sober and tipsy, starving and guttling by turns, just as ma got money or spent it. But let me draw a vail over the seen, and speak of her no more — it's sfishant 238 MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH for the public to know, that her name was Miss Montmorency, and we lived in the New Cut. My poor mother died one morning, Hev'n bless her ! and I was left alone in this wide wicked wuld, without so much money as would buy me a penny roal for my brexfast. But there was some amongst our naybours (and let me tell you there's more kindness among them poor disrepettable creaturs than in half-a-dozen lords or barrynets) who took pity upon poor Sal's orfin (for they bust out laflBn when I called her Miss Montmorency), and gev me bred and shelter. I'm afraid, in spite of their kindness, that my morrils wouldn't have improved if I'd stayed long among 'em. But a benny- violent genlmn saw me, and put me to school. The academy which I went to was called the Free School of Saint Bartholomew's the Less — the young genlmn wore green baize coats, yellow leather whatsisnames, a tin plate on the left arm, and a cap about the size of a muffing. I stayed there sicks years ; from sicks, that is to say, tiR my twelth year, during three years of witch I distinguished myself not a little in the musicle way, for I bloo the beUus of the church horgin, and very fine tunes we played too. Well, it's not worth recounting my jewvenile follies (what trix we used to play the applewoman ! and how we put snuff in the old dark's Prayer-book — my eye !) ; but one day, a genlmn entered the school-room — it was on the very day when I went to subtraxion — and asked the master for a young lad for a servant. They pitched upon me glad enough ; and nex day found me sleeping in the sculry, close under the sink, at Mr. Bago's country-house at Pentonwille. Bago kep a shop in Smithfield market, and drov a taring good trade in the hoil and Italian way. I've heard him say, that he cleared no less than fifty pounds every year by letting his front room at hanging time. His winders looked right opsit Newgit, and many and many dozen chaps has he seen hanging there. Laws was laws in the year ten, and they screwed chaps' nex for nex to nothink. But my bisniss was at his country-house, where 1 made my first ontray into fashnabl life. I was knife, errint, and stable-boy then, and an't ashamed to own it ; for my merrits have raised me to what I am — two livries, forty pound a year, malt-licker, washin, silk-stocking, and wax candles — not counting wails, which is somethink pretty considerable at owr house, I can teU you. I didn't stay long here, for a suckmstance happened which got me a Very different situation. A handsome young genlmn, who kep a tilbry and a ridin boss at livry, wanted a tiger. I bid at once for the place; and, being a neat tidy-looking lad, he took me. MISS SHUM'S HUSBAND 239 Bago gave me a chaxacter, and he my first livry ; proud enough I was of it, as you may fancy. My new master had some business in the City, for he went in every morning at ten, got out of his tilbry at the Citty Eoad, and had it waiting for him at six ; when, if it was summer, he spanked round into the Park, and drove one of the neatest turnouts there. Wery proud I was in a gold-laced hat, a drab coat and a red weskit, to sit by his side, when he drove. I already began to ogle the gals in the carridges, and to feel that longing for fashionabl life which I've had ever since. When he was at the oppera, or the play, down I went to skittles, or to White Condick Gardens; and Mr. Frederic Altamont's young man was somebody, I warrant : to be sure there is very few man-servants at PentonwiDe, the poppylation being mostly gals of aU work ; and so, though only fourteen, I was as much a man down there, as if I had been as old as Jerusalem. But the most singular thing was, that my master, who was such a gay chap, should live in such a hole. He had only a ground- floor in John Street — a parlor and a bedroom. I slep over the way, and only came in with his boots and brexfast of a morning. The house he lodged in belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Shum. They were a poor but proliffic couple, who had rented the place for many years ; and they and their family were squeezed in it pretty tight, I can tell you. Shum said he had been a hofficer, and so he had. He had been a sub-deputy assistant vice-commissary, or some such think ; and, as I heerd aiterwards, had been obliged to leave on account of his nervousTiess. He was such a coward, the fact is, that he was con- sidered dangerous to the harmy, and sent home. He had married a widow Buckmaster, who had been a Miss Slamcoe. She was a Bristol gal ; and her father being a bankrup in the tallow-chandlering way, left, in course, a pretty little sum of money. A thousand pound was settled on her : and she was as high and mighty as if it had been a millium. Buckmaster died, leaving nothink; nothink except four ugly daughters by Miss Slamcoe : and her forty pound a year was rayther a narrow income for one of her appytite and pretensions. In an unlucky hour for Shum she met him. He was a widower with a little daughter of three years old, a little house at Pentonwille, and a little income about as big as her own. I believe she buUyd the poor creature into marridge; and it was agreed that he should let his ground-floor at John Street, and so add somethink to their means. They married ; and the widow Buckmaster was the grey mare, I can tell you. She was always talking and blustering about her 240 MEMOIES OP MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH famly, the celebrity of the Buckmasters, and the antickety of the Slamcoes. They had a six-roomed house (noc counting kitching and sculry), and now twelve daughters in all ; whizz. — 4 Miss Buck- masters : Miss Betsy, Miss Dosy, Miss Biddy, and Miss Winny ; 1 Miss Shum, Mary by name, Shum's daughter, and seven others, who shall be nameless. Mrs. Shum was a fat red-haired woman, at least a foot taller than S., who was but a yard and a half high, pale-faced, red-nosed, knock-kneed, bald-headed, his nose and shut- friU all brown with snuff. Before the house was a little garden, where the washin of the famly was all ways hanging. There was so many of 'em that it was obliged to be done by relays. There was six rails and a stocking on each, and four small goosbry bushes, always covered with some bit of linning or other. The haU was a regular puddle : wet dabs of dishclouts flapped in your face ; soapy smoking bits of flanning went nigh to choke you ; and while you were looking up to prevent hanging yourself with the ropes which were strung across and about, slap came the hedge of a pail against your shins, till one was like to be drove mad with hagony. The great slattnly doddling girls was always on the stairs, poking about with nasty flower-pots, Orcooking something, or sprawling in the window^-seats with greasy curl-papers, reading greasy novels. An infernal pianna was jingling from morning till night — two eldest Miss Buckmasters, " Battle of Prag". — six youngest Miss Shums, "In my Cottage," till I knew every note in the "Battle of Prag," and cussed the day when " In my Cottage " was rote. The younger girls, too, were always bouncing and thumping about the house, with torn pinnyfores, and dogs-eard grammars, and large pieces of bread and treacle. I never see such a house. As for Mrs. Shum, she was such a fine lady, that she did nothink but lay on the drawing-room sophy, read novels, drink, scold, scream, and go into hystarrix. Little Shum kep reading an old newspaper from weeks' end to weeks' end, when he was not engaged in teaching the children, or goin for the beer, or cleanin the shoes : for they kep no servant. This house in John Street was in short a regular Pandymony. What could have brought Mr. Frederic Altamont to dwel in such a place 1 The reason is hobvius : he adoared the fust Miss Shum. And suttnly he did not show a bad taste ; for though the other daughters were as ugly as their hideous ma, Mary Shum was a pretty little pink modest creatur, with glossy black hair and tender blue eyes, and a neck as white as plaster of Parish. She wore a dismal old black gownd, which bad grown too short for her, and MISS SHUM'S HUSBAND 241 too tight ; but it only served to show her pretty angles and feet, and bewchus figger. Master, though he had looked rather low for the gal of his art, had certainly looked in the right place. Never was one more pretty or more hamiable. I gav her always the buttered toast left from our brexfast, and a cup of tea or chocklate, as Altamont might fancy : and the poor thing was glad enough of it, I can vouch ; for they had precious short commons upstairs, and she the least of all. For it seemed as if which of the Shum famly should try to snub the poor thing most. There was the four Buckmaster girls always at her. It was, Mary, git the coal-skittle ; Mary, run down to the public-house for the Iseer; Mary, I intend to wear your clean stockens out walking, or your new bonnet to chiurch. Only her poor father was Mnd to her; and he, poor old muff! his kindness was of no use. Mary bore all the scolding like a hangel, as she was : no, not if she had a pair of wings and a goold trumpet, could she have been a greater hangel. I never shall forgit one seen that took place. It was when Master was in the City; and so, having nothink earthly to do, I happened to be listening on the stairs. The old scolding was a-going on, and the aid tune of that hojus " Battle of Prag." Old Sbum made some remark ; and Miss Buckmaster cried out, " Law, pa ! what a fool you are ! " All the gals began laffin, and so did Mrs. Shum ; aU, that is, excep Mary, who turned as red as flams, and going up to Miss Betsy Buckmaster, give her two such wax on her great red ears as made them tingle again. Old Mrs. Shum screamed, and ran at her like a Bengal tiger. Her great arms vent veeling about like a vinmill, as she cuffed and thumped poor Mary for taking her pa's part. Mary Shum, who was always a-crying before, didn't shed a tear now. " I will do it again," she said, " if Betsy insults my father." New thumps, new shreex ! and the old horridan went on beatin the poor girl till she was quite exosted, and fell down on the sophy, pufiSn like a poppus. " For shame, Mary," began old Shum ; " for shame, you naughty gal, you ! for hurting the feelings of your dear mamma, and beating your kind sister." " Why, it was because she called you a " " If she did, you pert miss," said Shum, looking mighty digniti- fied, "I could correct her, and not you." " You correct me, indeed ! " said Miss Betsy, turning up her nose, if possible, higher than before ; " I should like to see you erect me ! Imperence ! " and they all began lafiin again. By this time Mrs. S. had recovered from the effex of her exsize, 242 MEMOIES OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH and she began to pour in her •wolly. Fust she called Mary names, then Shum. " Oh, why,'' screeched she, " why did I ever leave a genteel famly, where I 'ad every ellygance and lucksry, to marry a creatur like this? He is unfit to be called a man, he is un- worthy to marry a gentlewoman ; and as for that hussy, I disown her. Thank Heaven she an't a Slamcoe ; she is only fit to be a Shum ! " " That's true, mamma," said all the gals ; for their mother had taught them this pretty piece of manners, and they despised their father heartily : indeed, I have always remarked that, in famUes where the wife is internally talking about the merits of her branch, the husband is invariably a spooney. Well, when she was exosted again, down she fell on the sofy, at her old trix — more screeching — more convulshuns : and she wouldn't stop, this time, till Shum had got her half a pint of her old remedy from the " Blue Lion " over the way. She grew more easy as she finished the gin ; but Mary was sent out of the room, and told not to come back agin all day. " Miss Mary," says I, — for my heart yurned to the poor gal, as she came sobbing and miserable downstairs : " Miss Mary," says I, "if I might make so bold, here's master's room empty, and I know where the cold bif and pickles is." " Oh, Charles ! " said she, nodding her head sadly, "I'm too retched to have any happytite." And she flung herself on a chair, and began to cry fit to bust. At this moment, who should come in but my master. I had taken hold of Miss Mary's hand, somehow, and do believe I should have kist it, when, as I said, Haltamont made his appearance. " What's this 1 " cries he, lookin at me as black as thunder, or as Mr. Phillips as Hickit, in the new tragedy of Mac BuflF. " It's only Miss Mary, sir," answered I. " Get out, sir," says he, as fierce as posbil ; and I felt somethink (I think it was the tip of his to) touching me behind, and foimd myself, nex minit, sprawling among the wet flannings and buckets and things. The people fi'om upstairs came to see what was the matter, as I was cussin and crying out. " It's only Charles, ma," screamed out Miss Betsy " Where's Mary \ " says Mrs. Shum, from the sofy. " She's in master's room, missis," said I. " She's in the lodger's room, ma," cries Miss Shum, hecko- ing me. " Very good ; tell her to stay there till he comes back." And MISS SHUM'S HUSBAND 243 then Miss Shum went bouncing up the stairs again, little knowing of Haltamont's return. I'd long before observed that my master had an anchoring after Mary Shum; indeed, as I have said, it was purely for her sake that he took and kep his lodgings at Pentonwille. Excep for the sake of love, which is above being mersnary, fourteen shillings a wick was a little too strong for two such rat-holes as he lived in. I do blieve the famly had nothing else but their lodger to live on : they brekfisted off his tea-leaves, they cut away pounds and pounds of meat from his jints (he always dined at home), and his baker's bill was at least enough for six. But that wasn't my business. I saw him grin, sometimes, when I laid down the cold bif of a morning, to see how little was left of yesterday's sirline ; but he never said a syUabub : for true love don't mind a pound of meat or so hextra. At first, he was very kind and attentive to all the gals ; Miss Betsy, in partickler, grew mighty fond of him : they sat, for whole evenings, playing cribbitch, he taking his pipe and glas, she her tea and muflSng; but as it was improper for her to come alone, she brought one of her sisters, and this was genrally Mary, — for he made a pint of asking her, too, — and one day, when one of the others came instead, he told her, very quitely, that he hadn't invited . her ; and Miss Buckmaster was too fond of muffings to try this game on again : besides, she was jealous of her three grown sisters, and considered Mary as only a chUd. Law bless us ! how she used to ogle him, and quot bits of pottry, and play "Meet Me by Moonlike," on an old gitter : she reglar flung herself at his head : but he wouldn't have it, bein better ockypied elsewhere. One night, as genteel as possible, he brought home tickets for " Ashley's," and proposed to take the two young ladies — Miss Betsy and Miss Mary, in course. I recklect he called me aside that after- noon, assuming a solamon and misterus hare, "Charles," said he, "are you up to snuff?" "Why, sir," said I, "I'm genrally considered tolerably downy." "Well," says he, "I'U give you half a suffering if you can manage this bisness for me; I've chose a rainy night on purpus. When the theater is over, you must be waitin with two umbrellows ; give me one, and hold the other over Miss Buckmaster : and, hark ye, sir, turn to the right when you leave the theater, and say the coach is ordered to stand a little way up the street, in order to get rid of the crowd." We went (in a fly hired by Mr. A.), and never shall I forgit Cartliche's hacting on that memrable night. Talk of Kmble ! talk 244 MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH of Magreedy ! Ashley's for my money, with Cartlitch in the principal part. But this is nothink to the porpus. When the play was over, I was at the door with the umbrellos. It was raining cats and dogs, sure enough. Mr. Altamont came out presently, Miss Mary under his arm, and Miss Betsy following behind, rayther sulky. " This way, sir," cries I, pushin forward ; and I threw a great cloak: over Miss Betsy, fit to smother her. Mr. A. and Miss Mary skipped on and was out of sight when Miss Betsy's cloak was settled, you may be sure. " They're only gone to the fly, miss. It's a little way up the street, away from the crowd of carridges." And off we tiuned to the right, and no mistake. After marchin a little through the plash and mud, " Has any- body seen Coxy's fly?" cries I, with the most innocent haxent in the world. " Cox's fly ! " hoUows out one chap. "Is it the vaggin you want 1 " says another. " I see the blackin wan pass," giggles out another genlmn ; and there was such a hinterchange of compliments as you never heerd. I pass them over though, because some of 'em were not very genteel. " Law, miss," said I, " what shall I do ? My master will never forgive me ; and I haven't a single sixpence to pay a coach." Miss Betsy was just going to call one when I said that ; but the coach- man wouldn't have it at that price, he said, and I knew very well that she hadn't four or five shillings to pay for a wehicle. So, in the midst of that tarin rain, at midnight, we had to walk four mUes, Jfrom Westminster Bridge to PentonwiUe ; and what was wuss, / didn't happen to hnow the way. A very nice walk it was, and no mistake. At about half-past two, we got safe to John Street. My master was at the garden gate. Miss Mary flew into Miss Betsy's arms, while master began cussin and swearing at me for disobeying his orders, and turning to the right instead of to the left I Law bless me ! his hacting of hanger was very near as natral and as terrybl as Mr. CartUch's in the play. They had waited half-an-hour, he said, in the fly, in the little street at the left of the theater; they had drove up and down in the greatest fright possible ; and at last came home, thinking it was in vain to wait any more. They gave her 'ot rum-and-water and roast oysters for supper, and this consoled her a little. I hope nobody will cast an imputation on Miss Mary for her share in this adventer, for she was as honest a gal as ever lived, and I do believe is hignorant to this day of our little strattygim. Besides, all's fair in love ; and, as my master could never get to see MISS SHUM'S HUSBAND 245 her aJone, on account of her infernal eleven sisters and ma, he took this opportunity of expressin his attachment to her. If he was in love with her before, you may be sure she paid it him back again now. Ever after the night at Ashley's, they were as tender as two tuttle-doves — which fully accounts for the axdent what happened to me, in being kicked out of the room : and in course I bore no mallis. I don't know whether Miss Betsy still fancied that my master was in love with her, but she loved muflfings and tea, and kem down to his parlor as much as ever. Now comes the sing'lar part of my history. CHAPTER II BUT who was this genlmn with a fiae name — Mr. Frederic Altamont? or what was he? The most mysterus genlmn that ever I knew. Once I said to him on a wery rainy day, " Sir, shall I bring the gig down to your office ? " and he gave me one of his black looks and one of his loudest hoaths, and told me to mind my own bizziness, and attend to my orders. Another day, — it was on the day when Miss Mary slapped Miss Betsy's face,-- Miss M., who adoared him, as I have said already, kep on asking him what was his buth, parentidg, and ediccation. " Dear Frederic," says she, " why this mistry about yourself and your hactions ? why hide from your little Mary " — they were as tender as this, I can tell you — " your buth and your professin 1 " I spose Mr. Frederic looked black, for I was only listening, and he said, in a voice hagitated by emotion, " Mary," said he, " if you love me, ask me this no more : let it be sfishnt for you to know that I am a honest man, and that a secret, what it would be misery for you to larn, must hang over all my actions — that is from ten o'clock tm six." They went on chaffin and talking in this melumcoUy and mysterus way, and I didn't lose a word of what they said; for them houses in PentonwiUe have only walls made of pasteboard, and you hear rayther better outside the room than in. But, though he kep up his secret, he swore to her his afifektion this day pint blank. Nothing should prevent him, he said, from leading her to the halter, from matin her his adoarable wife. After this was a shght silence. "Dearest Frederic," mummered out miss, speakin as if she was chokin, " I am yours — yours for ever." And then sUence agen, and one or two smax, as if there was kissin going on. Here I thought it best to give a rattle at the door-lock ; for, as I live, there was old Mrs. Shum a-walkin down the stairs ! It appears that one of the younger gals, a-looking out of the bedrum window, had seen my master come in, and coming down to tea half-an-hour afterwards, said so in a cussary way. Old Mrs. Shum, who was a dragon of vertyou, cam bustling down the stafrs, panting and frowning, as fat and as fierce as a old sow at feedin time. " Where's the lodger, fellow ! " says she to me. MISS SHUM'S HUSBAND 247 I spoke loud enough to be heard down the street — "If you mean, ma'am, my master, Mr. Frederic Altamont, esquire, he's just stept in, and is puttin on clean shoes in his bedroom." She said nothink in answer, but flumps past me, and opening the parlor-door, sees master looking very queer, and Miss Mary a-drooping down her head like a pale lily. " Did you come into my famly," says she, " to corrupt my daughters, and to destroy the hinnocence of that infamous gal ? Did you come here, sir, as a seducer, or only as a lodger ? Speak, sir, speak ! " — and she folded her arms quite fierce, and looked like Mrs. Siddums in the Tragic Mews. " I came here, Mrs. Shum," said he, " because I loved your daughter, or I never would have condescended to live in such a beggarly hole. I have treated her in every respect like a genlmin, and she is as innocent now, ma'm, as she was when she was bom. If she'll marry me, I am ready ; if she'll leave you, she shall have a home where she shaE be neither buUyd nor starved : no hangry frumps of sisters, no cross mother-in-law, only an aflfeckshnat husband, and all the pure pleasures of Hyming." Mary flung herself into his arms — " Dear, dear Frederic," says she, " I'll never leave you." "Miss," says Mrs. Shum, "you ain't a Slamcoe, nor yet a Buckmaster, thank God. You may marry this person if your pa thinks proper, and he may insult me — brave me — trample on my feelinx in my own house — and there's no-o-o-obody by to defend me." I knew what she was going to be at : on came her histarrix agen, and she began screechin and roarin like mad. Down comes of course the eleven gals and old Shum. There was a pretty row. " Look here, sir," says she, " at the conduck of your precious trull of a daughter — alone with this man, kissing and dandlin, and Lawd knows what besides." " What, he 1 " cries Miss Betsy — " he in love with Mary Oh, the wretch, the monster, the deceiver ! " — and she falls down too, screeching away as loud as her mamma; for the siUy creature fancied stiU that Altamont had a fondness for her. " Silence these women I " shouts out Altamont, thundering loud. " I love your daughter, Mr. Shum. I will take her without a penny, and can afford to keep her. If you don't give her to me, she'll come of her own will. Is that enough ? — may I have her 1 " " We'U talk of this matter, sir," says Mr. Shum, looking as high and mighty as an alderman. " Gals, go upstairs with your dear mamma." — And they all trooped up again, and so the skrimmage ended. You may be sure that old Shum was not very sorry to get a 2^ MEMOIRS OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH husband for his daughter Mary, for the old creatur loved her better than all the pack which had been brought him or bom to him by Mrs. Buckmaster. But, strange to say, when he came to talk of settle- ments and so forth, not a word would my master answer. He said he made four hundred a year reglar — he wouldn't teU how — but Mary, if she married him, must share all that he had, and ask no questions ; only this he would say, as he'd said before, that he was a honest man. They were married in a few days, and took a very genteel house at Islington ; but still my master went away to business, and no- body knew where. Who could he be 1 CHAPTER III IF ever a young Idpple in the middlin classes began life with a chance of happiness, it was Mr. and Mrs. Frederic Altamont. Their house at Cannon Eow, Islington, was as comfortable as house could be. Oarpited from top to to; pore's rates small; furnitur elygant ; and three deomestix : of which I, in course, was one. My life wasn't so easy as in Mr. A.'s bachelor days ; but, what then ? The three W's is my maxum : plenty of work, plenty of wittles, and plenty of wages. Altamont kep his gig no longer, but went to the City in an omlibuster. One would have thought, I say, that Mrs. A., with such an effeckshnut husband, might have been as happy as her blessid majisty. Nothing of the sort. For the fust six months it was all very well • but then she grew gloomier and gloomier, though A. did everythink in life to please her. Old Shum used to come reglarly four times a wick to Cannon Row, where he lunched, and dined, and teed, and supd. The pore little man was a thought too fond of wine and spirits ; and many and many's the night that I've had to support him home. And you may be sure that Miss Betsy did not now desert her sister : she was at our place mornink, noon, and night ; not much to my mayster's liking, though he was too good-natured to wex his wife in trifles. But Betsy never had forgotten the recollection of old days, and hated Altamont like the foul feind. She put all kind of bad things into the head of poor innocent missis ; who, from being aU gaiety and cheerfulness, gi'ew to be quite melumcoUy and pale, and retchid, just as if she had been the most misrable woman in the world. In three months more a baby comes, in course, and with it old Mrs. Shum, who stuck to Mrs.' side as close as a wampire, and made her retchider and retchider. She used to bust into tears when Altamont came home : she used to sigh and wheep over the pore child, and say. "My child, my child, your father is false to me ; " or, " your father deceives me ; " or, " what will you do when your pore mother is no more ? " or such like sentimental stuff. It all came from Mother Shum, and her old trix, as I soon found out. The fact is, when there is 9. mistry of this kind in the house, 2S0 MEMOIKS OF ME. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH it's a servant's duty to listen ; and listen I did, one day when Mrs. was cryin as usual, and fat Mrs. Shum a sittin consolin her, as she called it : though, Heaven knows, she only grew wuss and wuss for the consolation. Well, I listened ; Mrs. Shum was a-rockin the baby, and missis cryin as yousual. "Pore dear innocint," says Mrs. S., heavin a great sigh, "you're the child of an unknown father and a misrable mother." " Don't speak ill of Frederic, mamma," says missis ; " he is all kindness to me." " All kindness, indeed ! yes, he gives you a fine house, and a fine gownd, and a ride in a fly whenever you please ; but where does all his money come from ? Who is he— what is he 1 Who knows that he mayn't be a murderer, or a housebreaker, or a utterer of forged notes'? How can he make his money honestly, when he won't say where he gets it 1 Why does he leave you eight hours every blessid day, and won't say where he goes to? Oh, Mary, Mary, you are the most injured of women ! " And with this Mrs. Shum began sobbin ; and Miss Betsy began yowling Hke a cat in a gitter ; and pore missis cried, too — tears is so remarkable infeokshus. " Perhaps, mamma," wimpered out she, " Frederic is a shopboy, and don't hke me to know that he is not a gentleman." " A shopboy," says Betsy ; " he a shopboy ! no, no, no ! more likely a wretched willain of a murderer, stabbin and robing all day, and feedin you with the fruits of his ill-gotten games ! " More crying and screechin here took place, in which the baby joined ; and made a very pretty consort, I can tell you. " He can't be a robber," cries missis ; " he's too good, too kind for that : besides, murdering is done at night, and Frederic is always home at eight." " But he can be a forger," says Betsy, " a wicked, wicked forger. Why does he go away every day ? to forge notes, to be sure. Why does he go to the City? to be near banks and places, and so do it more at his convenience." " But he brings home a sum of money every day — about thirty shillings — sometimes fifty : and then he smiles, and says it's a good day's work. This is not like a forger," said pore Mrs. A. " I have it — I have it ! " screams out Mrs. S. " The villain — the sneaking double-faced Jonas ! he's married to somebody else, he is, and that's why he leaves you, the base biggymist ! " At this, Mrs. Altamont, struck all of a heap, fainted clean away. A dreadful business it was — hystarrix : then hystarrix, in course, from Mrs. Shum; bells ringin, child squalin, suwaijts tefirin up MISS SHUM'S HUSBAND 251 and down stairs -with hot water ! If ever there is a noosance in the world, it's a house where faintain is always goin on. I wouldn't live in one, — no, not to be groom of the chambers, and git two hundred a year. It was eight o'clock in the evenin when this row took place; and such a row it was, that nobody but me heard master's knock. He came in, and heard the hooping, and screeching, and roaring. He seemed very much frightened at first, and said, " What is it ? " " Mrs. Shum's here," says I, " and Mrs. in astarrix." Altamont looked as black as thunder, and growled out a word which I don't like to name — let it suffice that it begins with a d and ends with a nation ; and he tore upstairs hke mad. He bust open the bedroom door ; missis lay quite pale and stony on the sofy ; the babby was screechin from the craddle ; Miss Betsy was sprawlin over missis ; and Mrs. Shum half on the bed and half on the ground : all howlin and squeelin, like so many dogs at the moond. When A. came in, the mother and daughter stopped aU of a sudding. There had been one or two tiffs before between them, and they feared him as if he had been a hogre. "What's this infernal screeching and crying about 1" says he. " Oh, Mr. Altamont," cries the old woman, " you know too well ; it's about you that this darling child is misrabble ! " " And why about me, pray, madam 1 " " Why, sir, dare you ask why ? Because you deceive her, sir ; because you are a false cowardly traitor, sir ; because you hav6 a wife elsewhere, sir I " And the old lady and Miss Betsy began to roar again as loud as ever. Altamont pawsed for a minnit, and then flung the door wide open ; nex he seized Miss Betsy as if his hand were a vice, and he world her out of the room ; then up he goes to Mrs. S. " Get up," says he, thundering loud, "you lazy, trollopping, mischief-making, lying old fool ! Get up, and get out of this house. You have been the cuss and bain of my happyniss since you entered it. With your d — d lies, and novvle reading, and histerrix, you have perwerted Mary, and made her almost as mad as yourself." " My child ! my child ! " shriex out Mrs. Shum, and clings round missis. But Altamont ran between them, and griping the old lady by her arm, dragged her to the door. "Follow your daughter, ma'm," says he, and down she went. " Chawls, see those ladies to the door," he hollows out, " and never let them pass it again." We walked down together, and off they went : and master locked and double-locked the bedroom door after him, intendin, of course, to have a tator-tator (as they say) wjth his wife, You 252 MEMOIRS OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH may be sure that I followed upstairs again pretty quick, to hear the result of their confidence. As they say at St. Steveneses, it was rayther a stormy debate. "Mary," says master, "you're no longer the merry grateful gal I knew and loved at Pentonwill : there's some secret a pressin on you — there's no smilin welcom for me now, as there used formly to be ! Your mother and sister-in-law have perwerted you, Mary : and that's why I've drove them from this house, which they shall not re-enter in my life." "0 Frederic! it's you is the cause, and not I. Why do you have any mistry from me ? Where do you spend your days ? Why did you leave me, even on the day of your marridge, for eight hours, and continue to do so every day ? " "Because," says he, "I makes my livelihood by it. I leave you, and don't tell you how I make it : for it would make you none the happier to know." It was in this way the convysation ren on — more tears and questions on my missises part, more sturmness and silence on my master's : it ended for the first time since their marridge, in a reglar quarrel. Wery difrent, I can tell you, from all the hammerous billing and kewing which had proceeded their nupshuls. Master went out, slamming the door in a fury ; as well he might. Says he, " If I can't have a oomforable life, I can have a jolly one ; " and so he went oflF to the hed tavern, and came home that evening beesly intawsicated. When high words begin in a family, drink generally follows on the genlman's side ; and then, fear well to all conjubial happyniss ! These two pipple, so fond and loving, were now sirly, silent, and full of il wil. Master went out earlier, and came home later; missis cried more, and looked even paler than before. Well, things went on in this uncomfortable way, master still in the mopes, missis tempted by the deamons of jeUosy and curosity ; until a singlar axident brought to light all the goings on of Mr. Altamont. It was the tenth of January ; I recklect the day, for old Shum gev me half-a-crownd (the fust and last of his money I ever see, by the way) : he was dining along with master, and they were making merry together. Master said, as he was mixing his fifth tumler of punch and little Shum his twelfth or so — master said, " I see you twice in the City to-day, Mr. Shum." " WeU, that's curous ! " says Shum. ' I was in the City. To-day's the day when the divvydins (God bless 'em) is paid ; and me and Mrs. S. went for our half-year's inkem. But we only got MISS SHtJM'S HUSBAND 253 out of the coach, crossed the street to the Bank, took our money, and got in agen. How could you see me twice 1 " Altamont stuttered and stammered and hemd, and hawd. " ! ' says he, " I was passing — passing as you went in and out." And he instantly turned the conversation, and began talking about polly- tix, or the weather, or some such stuff. "Yes, my deax," said my missis, "but how could you see papa twice ? " Master didn't answer, but talked poUytix more than ever. Stni she would con tiny on. " Where was you, my dear, when you saw pa 1 What were you doing, my love, to see pa twice ? " and so forth. Master looked angrier and angrier, and his wife only pressed him wuss and wuss. This was, as I said, little Shum's twelfth tumler ; and I knew pritty well that he could git very little further ; for as reglar as the thirteenth came, Shum was drunk. The thirteenth did come, and its consquinzes. I was obliged to leed him home to John Street, where I left him in the hangry arms of Mrs. Shum. "How the d — ," sayd he all the way, "how the d-dd — the deddy — deddy — devil — could he have seen me twice ? " CHAPTER IV IT was a sad slip on Altamont's part, for no sooner did he go out the next morning than missis went out too. She tor down the street, and never stopped till she came to her pa's house at Pentonwill. She was clositid for an hour with her ma, and when she left her she drove straight to the City. She walked before the Bank, and behind the Bank, and round the Bank : she came home disperryted, having learned nothink. And it was now an extraordinary thing that from Shum's house for the next ten days there was nothing but expyditions into the City. Mrs. S., tho' her dropsicle legs had never carred her half so fur before, was eternally on the hey veve, as the French say. If she didn't go, Miss Betsy did, or missis did : they seemed to have an attrackshun to the Bank, and went there as natral as an omlibus. At last one day, old Mrs. Shum comes to our house — (she wasn't admitted when master was there, but came still in his absints) — and she wore a hair of tryumph, as she entered. " Mary," says she, " where is the money your husbind brought to you yesterday? " My master used always to give it to missis when he returned. " The money, ma ! " says Mary. " Why here ! " And pulling out her puss, she showed a sovrin, a good heap of silver, and an odd-looking little coin. " That's it ! that's it ! " cried Mrs. S. " A Queene Anne's sixpence, isn't it, dear — dated seventeen hundred and three 1 " It was so sure enough : a Queen Ans sixpence of that very date. " Now, my love," says she, " I have found him ! Come with me to-morrow, and you shall know all ! " And now comes the end of my story. The ladies nex morning set out for the City, and I walked behind, doing the genteel thing, with a nosegy and a goold stick. We walked down the New Koad — we walked down the City Eoad — we walked to the Bank. AVe were crossing from that heddyfiz to the other side of Cornhill, when all of a sudden missis shreeked, and fainted spontaceously away. I rushed forrard, and raised her to my arms, spiling thereby a MISS SHUM'S HUSBAND 455 new weakit and a pair of crimson smalcloes. I rushed forrard, I say, very nearly knocking down the old sweeper who was hobbling away as fast as posibil. We took her to Birch's ; we provided her with a hackney-coach and every lucksury, and carried her home to Islington. That night master never came home. Nor the nex night, nor the nex. On the fourth day an octioneer arrived ; he took an infantry of the fiirnitur, and placed a bill in the window. At the end of the wick Altamont made his appearance. He was haggard and pale ; not so haggard, however, not so pale as his miserable wife. He looked at her very tendriUy. I may say, it's from him that I coppied my look to Miss He looked at her very tendriUy and held out his arms. She gev a sufifycating shreek, and rusht into his umbraces. " Mary," says he, " you know all now. I have sold my place ; I have got three thousand pounds for it, and saved two more. I've sold my house and fUmitur, and that brings me another. We'll go abroad and love each other, has formly." And now you ask me. Who he was? I shudder to relate. — Mr. Haltamont swep the ceossing peom the Bank to COENHILL ! ! Of cors, / left his servis. I met him, few years after, at Badden-Badden, where he and Mrs. A. were much respectid and pass for pipple of propaty THE AMOURS OF MR. DEUCEACE DIMOND CUT DIMOND THE name of my nex master was, if posbil, still more ellygant and youfonious than that of my fust. I now found myself boddy servant to the Honrabble Halgemon Percy Deuceace, youngest and fifth son of the Earl of Crabs. Halgemon was a barrystir — that is, he lived in Pump Cort, Temple : a wulgar naybrood, witch praps my readers don't no. SuflBz to say, it's on the confines of the Citty, and the choasen aboad of the lawyers of this metrappolish. When I say that Mr. Deuceace was a barrystir, I don't mean that he went sesshums or surcoats (as they call 'em), but simply that he kep chambers, lived in Pump Cort, and looked out for a commitionarship, or a revisinship, or any other place that the Wig guvvyment could give him. His father was a Wig pier (as the landriss told me), and had been a Toary pier. The fack is, his Lordship was so poar, that he would be anythink or nothink, to get provisions for his sons and an inkum for himself I phansy that he aloud Halgemon two hundred a year ; and it would have been a very comforable maintenants, only he knever paid him. Owever, the young genimn was a genlmn, and no mistake ; he got his allowents of nothing a year, and spent it in the most honrabble and fashnabble manner. He kep a kab — he went to Holmax^ — and Crockfud's — he moved in the most xquizzit suckles and trubbld the law boox very little, I can tell you. Those fashnabble gents have ways of getten money, witch comman pipple doan't understand. Though he only had a therd fioar in Pump Cort, he lived as if he had the welth of Cresas. The tenpun notes floo abowt as common as haypince — clarrit and shampang was at his house as vulgar as gin ; and verry glad I was, to be sure, to be a valley to a zion of the nobillaty. Deuceace had, in his sittin-room, a large pictur on a sheet of paper. The names of his family was wrote on it : it was wrote in the shape of a tree, a-groin out of a man-in-armer's stomick, and THE AMOURS OP MR. DEUCEAOE 257 the names were on little plates among the bows. The pictur said that the Deuceaces kem into England in the year 1066, along with William Oonqueruns. My master called it his podygree. I do bleev it was because he had this pictur, and because he was the Honrabble Deuceace, that he mannitched to live as he did. If he had been a common man, you'd have said he was no better than a swinler. It's only rank and biith that can warrant such singularities as my master show'd. For it's no use disgysing it — the Honrabble Halgemon was a gamblee. For a man of wulgar family, it's the wust trade that can be — for a man of common feelinx of honesty, this profession is quite imposbil; but for a real thoroughbread, genlmn, it's the esiest and most prophetable line he can take. It may praps appear curious that such a fashnabble man should live in the Temple ; but it must be recklected, that it's not only lawyers who live in what's called the Ins of Oort. Many batchylers, who have nothink to do with lor, have here their loginx ; and many sham barrysters, who never put on a wig and gownd twise in their lives, kip apartments in the Temple, instead of Bon Street, Pickle- diUy, or other fashnabble places. Frinstance, on our stairkis (so these houses are called), there was 8 sets of cliamberses, and only 3 lawyers. These was bottom floar, Screwson, Hewson, and Jewson, attorneys ; fust floar, Mr. Sergeant Flabber — opsite, Mr. Counslor Bruffy ; and secknd pair, Mr. Hagger- stony, an Irish counslor, praktising at the Old Baly, and lickwise what they caU reporter to the Morning Post nyouspapper. Opsite him was wrote ME. EICHAED BLEWITT ; and on the thud floar, with my master, lived one Mr. Dawkins. This young fellow was a new-comer into the Temple, and un- lucky it was for him too — he'd better have never been born ; foi it's my firm apinion that the Temple ruined him — that is, with the help of my master and Mr. Dick Blewitt : as you shall hear. Mr. Dawkins, as I was gave to understand by his young man, had jest left the Universary of Oxford, and had a pretty little fortn of his own — six thousand pound, or so — in the stox. He was jest of age, an orfin who had lost his father and mother ; and having distinkwished hisself at OoUitch, where he gained sefi'ral prices, was. come to town to push his fortn, and study the barryster's bisness. Not bein of a very high fammly hisself — indeed, I've heard say his father was a chismonger, or somethink of that lo sort — Dawkins was glad to find his old Oxford frend, Mr. Blewitt, yonger son to, rich Squire Blewitt, of Listershire, and to take rooms so near him. Now, tho' there was a considdrable intimacy between me and 258 MEMOIRS OP MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLITSH Mr. Blewitt's gentleman, there was scarcely any betwixt our masters, — mine being too much of the aristoxy to associate with one of Mr. Blewitt's sort. Blewitt was what they caU a bettin man ; he went reglar to Tattlesall's, kep a pony, wore a white hat, a blue berd's- eye handkercher, and a cut-away coat. In his manners he was the very contrary of my master, who was a slim ellygant man as ever I see — he had very white hands, rayther a sallow face, with sharp dark ise, and small wiskus neatly trimmed and as black as Warren's jet — he spoke very low and soft — he seemed to be watohin the person with whom he was in convysation, and always flatterd everybody. As for Blewitt, he was quite of another sort. He was always swearin, singing, and slappin people on the back, as hearty as posbill. He seemed a merry, careless, honest cretur, whom one would trust with life and soul. So thought Dawkins, at least ; who, though a quiet young man, fond of his boox, novvles, Byron's poems, floot-playing, and such like scientafic amusemints, grew hand in glove with honest Dick Blewitt, and soon after with my master, the Honrabble Halgemon. Poor Daw ! he thought he was makin good connexions and real friends — he had fallen in with a couple of the most etrocious swinlers that ever lived. Before Mr. Dawkins's axrivial at our house, Mr. Deuceace had barely condysended to speak to Mr. Blewitt ; it was only about a month after that suckumstance that my master, aU of a sudding, grew very friendly with him. The reason was pretty clear, — Deuceace wanted Mm. Dawkins had not been an hour in master's company before he knew that he had a pidgin to pluck. Blewitt knew this too : and bein very fond of pidgin, intended to keep this one entirely to himself It was amusin to see the Hon- rabble Halgemon manuvring to get this poor bird out of Blewitt's clause, who thought he had it safe. In fact, he'd brought Dawkins to these chambers for that very porpos, thinking to have him under his eye, and strip him at leisure. My master very soon found out what was Mr. Blewitt's game. Gramblers know gamblers, if not by instink, at least by reputation ; and though Mr. Blewitt moved in a much lower speare than Mr. Deuceace, they knew each other's dealins and caracters pufiickly well. " Charles, you scoundrel," says Deuceace to me one day (he always spoak in that kind way), "who is this person that has taken the opsit chambers, and plays the floot so industrusly 1 " "It's Mr. Dawkins, a rich young gentleman from Oxford, and a great friend of Mr. Blewittses, sir," says I ; " they seem to live in each other's rooms." Master said nothink, but he grin'd — my eye, how he did grin. Not the fowl find himself could snear more satannickly. THE AMOUES OF ME. DEUCEACE 259 I knew what he meant : Imprimish. A man who plays the floot is a simpleton. Secknly. Mr. Blewitt is a raskle. Thirdmo. When a raskle and a simpleton is always together, and when the simpleton is rich, one knows pretty well what wUl come of it. I was but a lad in them days, but I knew what was what, as well as my master; it's not gentlemen only that's up to snough.. Law bless us ! there was four of us on this stairkes, four as nice young men as you ever see : Mr. Bruffy's young man, Mr. DawHnses, Mr. Blewitt's, and me — and we knew what our masters was about as well as they did theirselfs. Frinstance, I can say this for myself, there wasn't a paper in Deuceace's desk or drawer, not a bUl, a note, or mimerandum, which I hadn't read as well as he : with Blewitt's it was the same — ^me and his young man used to read 'em all. There wasn't a bottle of wine that we didn't get a glass out of, nor a pound of sugar that we didn't have some lumps of it. We had keys to all the cubbards — we pipped into all the letters that kem and went — we pored over all the bill-files — ^we'd the best pickens out of the dinners, the liwers of the fowls, the forcemit balls out of the soup, the egs from the sallit. As for the coals and candles, we left them to the landrisses. You may call this robry — nonsince — ^it's only our rights — a suwant's purquizzits is as sacred as the laws of Hengland. Well, the long and short of it is this. Eichard Blewitt, esquire, was sityouated as follow : He'd an incum of three hunderd a year from his father. Out of this he had to pay one hunderd and ninety for money borrowed by him at coUidge, seventy for chambers, seventy more for his boss, aty for his suwant on bord wagis, and about three hunderd and fifty for a sepparat establishment in the Eegency Park ; besides this, his pockit-money, say a hunderd, his eatin, diinkin, and wine-marchant's bUl, about two hunderd moar. So that you see he laid by a pretty handsome sum at the end of the year. My master was dififrent ; and being a more fashnable man than Mr. B., in course he owed a deal more mony. There was fust : — Account contray, at Orockford's . . £3711 Bills of xchange and I.O.U.'s (but he didn't pay these in most cases) 21 tailors' biUs, in all 3 hossdealers' do. 2 coachbuilder Bills contracted at Cambridtch Sundries . 4963 . 1306 11 9 402 506 . 2193 6 8 987 1.0 £14,069. 8 5- z6o MEMOIRS OP MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH I give this as a curosity — pipple doan't know how in many cases fashnabble life is carried on ; and to know even what a real genlmn owes is somethink instructif and agreeable. But to my tail. The very day after my master had made the inquiries concerning Mr. Dawkins, witch I mentioned already, he met Mr. Blewitt on the stairs ; and byoutiffle it was to see how this genlmn, who had before been almost cut by my master, was now received. by him. One of the sweetest smiles I ever saw was now vizzable on Mr. Deuceace's countenance. He held out his hand, covered with a white kid glove, and said, in the most frenly tone of vice posbill, "What? Mr. Blewitt? It is an age since we met. What a shame that such near naybors should see each other so seldom ! " Mr. Blewitt, who was standing at his door, in a pe-green dressing-gown, smoaking a segar, and singing a hunting coarus, looked surprised, flattered, and then suspicious. " Why, yes," says he, " it is, Mr. Deuceace, a long time.'' "Not, I think, since we dined at Sir George Hookey's. By- the-bye, what an evening that was — hay, Mr. Blewitt ? What wine ! what capital songs ! I recollect your ' May-day in the morning ' — cuss me, the best comick song I ever heard. I was speaking to the Duke of Doncaster about it only yesterday. You know the Duke, I think?" Mr. Blewitt said, quite surly, " No, I don't." " Not know him ! " cries master ; " why, hang it, Blewitt ! he knows you; as every sporting man in England does, I should think. Why, man, your good things are in everybody's mouth at Newmarket." And so master went on chalfin Mr. Blewitt. That genlmn at fust answered him quite short and angry : but, after a little more flummery, he grew as pleased as posbill, took in all Deuceace's flatry, and bleeved all his lies. At last the door shut, and they both went into Mr. Blewitt's chambers together. Of course I can't say what past there ; but in an hour master kem up to his own room as yaller as mustard, and' smeUin sadly of backo-smoke. I never see any genlmn more sick than he was : he'd been swioaMn seagars along with Blewitt. I said nothink, in course, tho' I'd often heard him xpress his borrow of backo, and knew very well he would as soon swallow pizon as smoke. But he wasn't a chap to do a thing without a reason : if he'd been smoakin, I warrant he had smoked to some porpus. I didn't hear the convysation betwean 'em; but Mr. Blewitt's man did : it was, — " Well, Mr. Blewitt, what capital seagars ! Have you one for a friend to smoak ? " (The old fox, it wasn't only THE AMOURS OP MK. DEUCEAOE 261 the seagars he was a-smoaldn !) " Walk in," says Mr. Blewitt ; and they began a-chaffin together ; master very ankshous about the young gintleman who had come to live in our chambers, Mr. Dawkins, and always coming back to that subject, — saying that people on the same stairkis ot to be frenly ; how glad he'd be, for his part, to know Mr. Dick Blewitt, and any friend of his, and so on. Mr. Dick, howsever, seamed quite aware of the trap laid for him. " I really don't know this Dawkins," says he : " he's a chis- monger's son, I hear; and tho I've exchanged visits with him, I doan't intend to continyou the acquaintance, — not wishin to assoshate with that kind of pipple." So they went on, master fishin, and Mr. Blewitt not wishin to take the hook at no price. " Confound the vulgar thief ! " muttard my master, as he was laying on his sophy, after being so very ill ; " I've poisoned myself with his infernal tobacco, and he has foiled me. The cursed swindling boor ! he thinks he'll ruin this poor cheesemonger, does he ? I'll step in, and warn him." I thought I should bust a-laiEn, when he talked in this style. I knew very well what his " warning " meant, — lockin the stable- door but stealin the hoss fiist. Next day, his strattygam for becoming acquainted with Mr. Dawkins we exicuted ; and very pritty it was. Besides potry and the flute, Mr. Dawkins, I must teU you, had some other parshallities — wiz., he was very fond of good eatin and drinkin. After doddling over his music and boox all day, this young genlmn used to sally out of evenings, dine sumptiously at a tavern, drinkin all sots of wine along with his friend Mr. Blewitt. He was a quiet young fellow enough at fust; but it was Mr. B. who (for his own porpuses, no doubt) had got him into this kind of life. Well, I needn't say that he who eats a fine dinner, and drinks too much overnight, wants a bottle of sodar-water, and a gril, praps, in the morning. Such was Mr. Dawkinses case ; and reglar almost as twelve o'clock came, the waiter from "Dix Ooffy-house" was to be seen on our stairkis, bringing up Mr. D.'s hot breakfast. No man would have thought there was anythink in such a trifling cirkumstance ; master did, though, and pounced upon it like a cock on a barlycorn. He sent me out to Mr. Morell's in Pickledilly, for wot's called a Strasbug-pie— in French, a "patty defau graw." He takes a Card, and nails it on the outside case (patty defaw graws come generally in a round wooden box, like a drumb) ; and what do you think he writes on it ? why, as folios : — " For the Honourable Algernon Percy D&uceace, dkc. &c. (&c, With Prinp^ TalleyrcmcPs compliments," 262 MEMOIRS OP MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH Prince Tallyram's complimints, indeed ! I laJBf when I think of it, still, the old surpint ! He was a surpint, that Deuceace, and no mistake. Well, by a most extromary piece of ill-luck, the nex day punctially as Mr. Dawkinses brexfas was coming iip the stairs, Mr. Halgernon Percy Deuceace was going down. He was as gay as a lark, humming an Oppra tune, and twizzting round his head his hevy gold-headed cane. Down he went very fast, and by a most unlucky axdent struck his cane against the waiter's tray, and away went Mr. Dawkinses gril, kayann, kitchup, sodarwater and aU ! I can't think how my master should have choas such an exact time ; to be sure, his windo looked upon the cort, and he could see every one who came into our door. As soon as the axdent had took place, master was in such a rage as, to be sure, no man ever was in befor; he swoar at the waiter in the most dreddfie way ; he threatened him with his stick, and it was only when he see that the waiter was rayther a bigger man than hisself that he was in the least pazzyfied. He returned to his own chambres ; and John, the waiter, went off for more gril to Dixes Coffy-house. "This is a most unlucky axdent, to be sure, Charles," says master to me, after a few minits paws, during witch he had been and wrote a note, put it into an anvelope, and sealed it with his big seal of arms. " But stay — a thought strikes me — take this note to Mr. Dawkins, and that pye you brought yesterday ; and hearkye, you scoundrel, if you say where you got it I wiU break every bone in your skin ! " These kind of prommises were among the few which I knew him to keep : and as I loved boath my skinn and my boans, I carried the noat, and of cors said nothink. Waiting in Mr. Dawkinses chambus for a few minnits, I returned to my master with an anser. I may as well give both of these documence, of which I happen to have taken coppies : — I The Son. A. P. Deuceace to T. S. Dawlcins, Esq. "Temple: Tuesday. " Me. Deuceace presents his compliments to Mr. Dawkins, and begs at the same time to offer his most sincere apologies and regrets for the accident which has just taken place, " May Mr. Deuceace be allowed to take a neighbour's privilege, ?(.nd to remedy the evil he has occasioned to the best of his power] THE AMOURS OF MR. DEUCEACE 263 If Mr. Dawkins will do him the favour to partake of the contents of the accompanying case (from Strasbourg direct, and the gift of a friend, on whose taste as a gourmand Mr. Dawkins may rely), per- haps he wiU find that it is not a bad substitute for the plat which Mr. Deuceace's awkwardness destroyed. " It will also, Mr. Deuceace is sure, be no small gratification to the original donor of the pdt^ when he learns that it has fallen into the hands of so celebrated a bon vivant as Mr. Dawkins. " T. S. DwuiHns, Esq., i&c. 6 MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLtJSH Not so : Dawkins won always, Mr. B. betting on his play, and' giving him the very best of advice. At the end of the evening (which was abowt five o'clock the nex morning) they stopt. Master was counting up the skore on a card. " Blewitt," says he, " I've been vmlucky. I owe you — let me see — yes, five-and-forty pounds % " " Five-and-forty," says Blewitt, " and no mistake ! " "I wiU give you a cheque," says the honrabble genlmn. " Oh ! don't mention it, my dear sir ! " But master got a grate sheet of paper, and drew him a cheek on Messeers. Pump, Algit, and Co., his bankers. "Now," says master, "I've got to settle with you, my dear Mr. Dawkins. If you had backd your luck. I should have owed you a very handsome sum of money. Voyons, thirteen points at a pound — it is easy to calculate ; " and drawin out his puss, he clinked over the table 13 goolden suverings, which shon till they made my eyes wink. So did pore Dawkinses, as he put out his hand, all trembling, and drew them in. " Let me say," added master, " let me say (and I've had some little experience), that you are the very best kcarte player with whom I ever sat down." Dawkinses eyes glissened as he put the money up, and said, " Law, Deuceace, you flatter me." Flatter him ! I should think he did. It was the very think which master ment. "But mind you, Dawkins," continyoud he, "I must have my revenge ; for I'm ruined — positively ruined — by your luck." " Well, well," says Mr. Thomas Smith Dawkins, as pleased as if he had gaineda milliimi, "shall it be to-morrow? Blewitt, what say you?" Mr. Blewitt agreed, in course. My master, after a Kttle demur- ring, consented too. "We'll meet," says he, "at your chambers. But mind, my dear fello, not too much wine : I can't stand it at any timcj especially when I have to play ecarte with you." Pore Dawkins left our rooms as happy as a prins. " Here, Charles," says he, and flung me a sovring. Pore fellow ! pore fellow ! I knew what was a-comin ! But the best of it was, that these 13 sovrings which Dawkins won, master had harrowed them from Mr. Blewitt 1 I brought 'em, with 7 more, from that young genlmn's chambers that very morning : for, since his interview with master, Blevritt had nothing to refuse him. Wellj shall I continue the tail ? If Mr. Dawkins had been the least bit wiser, it would have taken him six months befoar he lost THE AMOURS OP MR. BEUOEACE 267 his money ; as it was, he was such a oonfunded ninny, that it took him a very short time to part with it. Nex day (it was Thursday, and master's acquaintance with Mr. Dawkins had only commenced on Tuesday), Mr. DawMns, as 1 said, gev his party, — dinner at 7. Mr. Blewitt and the two Mr. D.'s as hefoar. Play begins at 11. This time I knew the bisness was pretty serious, for we suvvants was packed off to bed at 2 o'clock. On Friday, I went to chambers — no master — he kem in for 5 minutes at about 12, made a little toilit, ordered more devvles and soda-water, and back again he went to Mr. Dawkins's. They had dinner there at 7 again, but nobody seamed to eat, for all the vittles came out to us genlmn : they had in more wine though, and must have drunk at least two dozen in the 36 hours. At ten o'clock, however, on Friday night, back my master came to his chambers. I saw him as I never saw him before, namly, reglar drunk. He staggered about the room, he danced, he hickipdj, he swoar, he flung me a heap of silver, and, finely, he simk down exosted on his bed ; I pullin off his boots and close, and making him comfrabble. When I had removed his garmints, I did what it's the duty of! every servant to do — I emtied his pockits, and looked at his poekit- book and all his letters : a number of axdents have been prevented that way. I found there, among a heap of things, the following pretty doekyment : — I.O.U. £4700. Thomas Smith Dawkins. Fridwy, 16CA Jcamcwy, There was another bit of paper of the same kind — " I.O.TJ. four hundred pounds : Richard Blewitt : " but this, in corse, ment nothink.' Nex momin, at nine, master was up, and as sober as a, jndg;. Ha drest,, and was off to Mr. Dawkins. At ten, he ordered a cab, and the two gentlmn went together. 268 MEMOIKS OF ME. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH " Where shall he drire, sir 1 " says I. " Oh, tell him to drive to the Bank." Pore Dawkins ! his eyes red with remors and sleepliss drunken- niss, gave a shudder and a sob, as he sunk back in the wehicle ; and they drove on. That day he sold out every hapny he was worth, xcept five hundred pounds. Abowt 12 master had returned, and Mr. Dick Blewitt came stridin up the stairs with a solium and important hair. " Is your master at home ? " says he. " Yes, sir," says I ; and in he walks. I, in coars, with my ear to the keyhole, listning with all my mite. " Well," says Blewitt, " we maid a pretty good night of it, Mr. Deuceace. Yu've settled, I see, with Dawkins." " Settled ! " says master. " Oh yes — yes — I've settled with him." " Four thousand seven hundred, I think 1 " " About that— yes." "That makes my share — let me see — two thousand three hundred and fifty ; which I'll thank you to fork out." " Upon my word — why — Mr. Blewitt," says master, " I don't really understand what you mean." " You don't know what I mean ! " says Blewitt, in an axent such as I never before heard. " You don't know what I mean ! Did you not promise me that we were to go shares? Didn't I lend you twenty sovereigns the other night to pay our losings to Dawkins? Didn't you swear, on your honour as a gentleman, to give me half of all that might be won in this afifair?" " Agreed, sir,'' says Deuceace ; " agreed." " Well, sir, and now what have you to say ? " " Why, that I don't intend to keep my promise ! You infernal fool and ninny ! do you suppose I was labouring for ymi, 1 Do you fancy I was going to the expense of giving a dinner to that jackass yonder, that you should profit by it % Get away, sir ! Leave the room, sir ! Or, stop — here — I will give you four hundred pounds — your own note of hand, sir, for that sum, if you will consent to forget all that has passed between us, and that you have ever known Mr. Algernon Deuceace." I've seen pipple angery before now, but never any like Blewitt. He stormed, groaned, beUoed, swoar ! At last, he fairly began blubbring; now cussing and nashing his teeth, now praying dear Mr. Deuceace to grant him mercy. THE AMOUES OF MR. DEUOEACE 269 At last, master flung open the door (Heaven bless us ! it's well I didn't tumble hed over eels into the room !), and said, " Ohaxles, show the gentleman downstairs ! " My master looked at him quite steddy. Blewitt slunk down, as misrabble as any man I ever see. As for Dawkins, Heaven knows where he was ! " Charles," says my master to me, about an hour afterwards, " I'm going to Paris ; you may come, too, if you please." FORING PARTS IT was a singular proof of my master's modesty, that though he had won this andsome sum of Mr. Dawkins, and was inclined to be as extravygant and osntatious as any man I ever seed, yet, when he determined on going to Paris, he didn't let a single frend know of all them winnings of his ; didn't acquaint my Lord Crabs his father that he was about to leave his natiff shoars — neigh — didn't even so much as call together his tradesmin, and pay off their little bills befor his departure. On the contry, "Chawles," said he to me, "stick a piece of paper on my door," which is the way that lawyers do, " and write 'Back at seven' upon it." Back at seven I wrote, and stuck it on our outer oak. And so mistearus was Deuceace about his con- tinental tour (to all except me), that when the landriss brought him her account for the last month (amountain, at the very least, to £2, 10s.), master told her to leave it till Monday morning, when it should be properly settled. It's extrodny how ickonomical a man becomes, when he's got five thousand lbs. in his pockit. Back at 7 indeed ! At 7 we were a-roalin on the Dover Eoad, in the Keglator Coach — master inside, me out. A strange company of people there was, too, in that wehicle, — 3 sailors ; an Italyin with his music-box and munky; a missionary, going to convert the heathens in France ; 2 oppra girls (they call 'em figure- aunts), and the figure-aunts' mothers inside ; 4 Frenchmin, with gingybred caps and mustashes, singing, chattering, and jesticklating in the most vonderful vay. Such compliments as passed between them and the figure-aunts ; such a munshin of biskits and sippin of brandy ! such " mong Jews," and " sacrrrfe," and " kill fay frwaws ! " I didn't understand their languidge at that time, so of course can't igsplain much of their conwersation ; but it pleased me, nevertheless, for now I felt that I was reely going into foring parts : which, ever sins I had had any edication at all, was always my fondest wish. Heavin bless us ! thought I, if these are specimeens of all Frenchmen, what a set they must be. The pore Italyin's munky, sittin mopin and meluncoUy on his box, was not half so ugly, and seamed quite as reasonabble. THE AMOUES OF MR. DEUCEACE 271 Well, we arrived at Dover — " Ship Hotel " — weal cutlets half a ginny, glas of ale a shilling, glas of neagush half-arcrownd, a hapnyworth of wax-lites four shillings, and so on. But master paid without grumbling; as long as it was for himself he never minded the expens : and nex day we embarked in the packit for Balong-sir-mare — which means in French, the town of Balong sityouated oa the sea. I who had heard of foring wonders, expected this to be the fiist and greatest : phansy, then, my disapintment, when we got there, to find this Balong not situated on the sea, but on the shoar. But oh ! the gettin there was the bisniss. How I did wish for Pump Court agin, as we were tawsing abowt in the Channel ! Gentle reader, av you ever been on the otion ? — " The sea, the sea, the open sea ! " as Barry Cromwell says. As soon as we entered our little wessel, and I'd looked to master's luggitch and mine (mine was rapt up in a very small hankercher), as soon, I say, as we entered our little wessel, as soon as I saw the waives, black and frothy, like fresh-drawn porter, a-dashin against the ribs of our galliant bark, the keal like a wedge, splittin the billoes in two, the sales ar-flaffin in the hair, the standard of Hengland floating at the mask-head, the steward argetting ready the basins and things, the capting proudly tredding the deck and giving orders to the salers, the white rox of Albany and the bathin-masheens disappearing in the distans — then, then I felt, for the first time, the mite, the madgisty of existence. " Yellowplush, my boy," said I, ia a dialogue with myself, " your life is now about to commens — your carear, as a man, dates from your entrans on board this packit. Be wise, be manly, be cautious, forgit the follies of your youth. You are no longer a boy now, but a footmaij. Throw down your tops, your marbles, your boyish games — throw off your childish babbits with your inky clerk's jackit — throw up your " Here, I recklect, I was obleeged to stopp. A fealin, in the fust place singlar, in the next place painful, and at last compleatly overpowering, had come upon me whUe I was making the abuif speach, and now I found myself in a sityouation which Dellixy for Bids me to describe. SuflBs to say, that now I dixcovered -What basins was made for — that for many, many hours, I lay in a hagony of exostion, dead to all intense and porposes, the rain pattering in my face, the salers tramplink over my body — the panes of purgatory going on inside. When we'd been about four hours in this sityouation (dt seam'd to me four eais), the steward comes to that part of the deck where we servants were alJl huddled up together, and calls out " Charles ! " 272 MEMOIES OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH " Well," says I, gurgling out a faint " yes, what's the matter t " " You're wanted." "Where?" " Your master's wery ill," says he, with a grin. " Master be hanged ! " says I, turning round, more misrable than ever. I woodn't have moved that day for twenty thousand masters — no, not for the Empror of Russia or the Pop of Room. Well, to cut this sad subjik short, many and many a voyitch have I sins had upon what Shakspur caUs the "wasty dip," but never such a retched one as tliat from Dover to Balong, in the year Anna Domino 1818. Steemers were scarce in those days; and our journey was made in a smack. At last, when I was in a stage of despare and exostion, as reely to phansy myself at Death's doar, we got to the end of our journey. Late in the evening we hailed the Gaelic shoars, and hankered in the arbour of Balong-sir-mare. It was the entrans of Parrowdice to me and master : and as we entered the calm water, and saw the comfrabble lights gleaming in the houses, and felt the roal of the vessel degreasing, never was two mortials gladder, I warrant, than we were. At length our capting drew up at the key, and our journey was down. But such a bustle and clatter, such jabbering, such shrieking and swaring, such woUies of oafs and axicrations as saluted us on landing, I never knew ! We were boarded, in the fust place, by custom-house officers in cock- hats, who seased our luggitch, and called for our passpots : then a crowd of inn-waiters came tumbling and screaming on deck — " Dis way, sare," cries one ; " H6tel Maurice," says another ; " H6tel de Bang," screeches another chap — the tower of Babyle was nothink to it. The fust thing that struck me on landing was a big fellow with earrings, who very nigh knock me down, in wrenching master's carpet-bag out of my hand, as I was carrying it to the hotell. But we got to it safe at last ; and, for the fust time in my life, I slep in a foring country. I shan't describe this town of Balong, which, as it has been visited by not less (on an avaridg) than two mUliums of English since I fust saw it twenty years ago, is tolrabbly well known already. It's a dingy, mellumcoUy place, to my mind ; the only thing moving in the streets is the gutter which runs down 'em. As for wooden shoes, I saw few of 'em ; and for frogs, upon my honour I never see a single Frenchman swaUow one, which I had been led to beleave was their reg'lar, though beastly, custom. One thing which amazed me was the singlar name which they give to this town of Balong. It's divided, as everyboddy knows, into an upper town (sitouate on a mounting, and surrounded by a wall, or bullyvar) and a lower town, which is on the level of. the sea. Well, will it be believed THE AMOURS OF MR. DEUOEAOE 273 that they call the upper town the Hot Veal, and the other the Base Veal, which is on the contry genrally good in France, though the beaf, it must be confest, is exscrabble. It was in the Base Veal that Deuceace took his lodgian, at the H6tel de Bang, in a very crooked street called the Rue del Ascew ; and if he'd been the Archbishop of Devonshire, or the Duke of Canterbury, he could not have given himself greater hairs, I can tell you. Nothink was too fine for us now; we had a sweet of rooms on the first-floor which belonged to the prime minister of France (at least the landlord said they were the premier's) ; and the Hon. Algernon Percy Deuceace, who had not paid his landriss, and came to Dover in a coach, seamed now to think that goold was too vulgar for him, and a carridge and six would break down with a man of his weight. Shampang flew about like ginger-pop, besides bordo, clarit, burgundy, burgong, and other wines, and all the delixes of the Balong kitchins. We stopped a fortnit at this duU place, and did nothing from morning till night excep walk on the beach, and watch the ships going in and out of arber, with one of them long sliding opra-glasses, which they call, I don't know why, tallow-scoops. Our amusements for the fortnit we stopped here were boath numerous and daliteful ; nothink, in fact, could be more pichong, as they say. In the morning before breakfast we boath walked on the Peer; master in a blue mareen jackit, and me in a slap-up new Uvry; both provided with long sliding opra-glasses, called as I said (I don't know Y, but I suppose it's a scientafick term) tallow-scoops. With these we igsamined, very attentively, the otion, the seaweed, the pebbles, the dead cats, the fishwimmin, and the waives (hke little children playing at leap-fi-og), which came tumbling over 1 another on to the shoar. It seemed to me as if they were scrambling to get there, as well they might, being sick of the sea, and anxious for the blessid peaceable terry fir my. After brexfast, down we went again (that is, master on his beat, and me on mine, — for my place in this foring town was a complete shinycure), and putting our tally-scoops again in our eyes, we egsamined a little more the otion, pebbils, dead cats, and so on ; and this lasted tiU dinner, and dinner tiU bed-time, and bed-time lasted tUl nex day, when came brexfast, and dinner, and taUy- scooping, as before. This is the way with all people of this town, of which, as I've heard say, there is ten thousand happy English, who lead this plesnt life from year's end to year's end. Besides this, there's billiards and gambling for the gentlemen, a little dancing for the gals, and scandle for the dowygers. In none of these amusements did we partake. We were a little too good to play crown pints at cards, and never get paid when we won j or to J274 MEMOIRS OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH go dangling after the portionless gals, or amuse ourselves with slops and penny-wist along with the old ladies. No, no ; my master was a man of fortn now, and behayved himself as sich. If ever he condysended to go into the public room of the H6tel de Bang — the French (doubtless for reasons best known to themselves) call this a sally manjy — he swear more and lowder than any one there ; he abyoused the waiters, the wittles, the wines. With his glas in his i, he staired at everybody. He took always the place before the fire. He talked about "my carridge," "my currier," "my servant ; " and he did wright. I've always found 'through life, that if you wish to be respected by Enghsh people, you must be insalent to them, especially if you are a sprig of nobiliaty. We like being insulted by noblemen, — it shows they're familiar with us. Law bless us ! I've known many and many a genlmn about town who'd rather be kicked by a lord than not be noticed by him; they've even had an aw of me, because I was a lord's footman. While my master was hectoring in the parlor, at Balong, pretious airs I gave myself in the kitching, I can teU you ; and the consequints was, that we were better served, and moar liked, than many pipple with twice our merit. Deuceace had some particklar plans, no doubt, which kep him so long at Balong ; and it clearly was his wish to act the man of fortune there for a little time before he tried the character at Paris. He purchased a carridge, he hired a currier, he rigged me in a fine new livry blazin with lace, and he past through the Balong bank a thousand pounds of the money he had won from Dawkins, to his credit at a Paris house ; showing the Balong bankers, at the same time, that he'd plenty moar in his potfoUe. This was killin two birds with one stone; the bankers' clerks spread the nuse over the town, and in a day after master had paid the money every old dowyger in Balong had looked out the Crabs' family podigree in the Peeridge, and was quite intimate with the Deuceace name and estates. If Sattn himself were a lord, I do beleave there's many vurtuous English mothers woidd be glad to have him for a son-in-law. Now, though my master had thought fitt to leave town without excommunicating with his father on the subject of his intended continental tripe, as soon as he was settled at Balong he roat my Lord Crabbs a letter, of which I happen to have a copy. It ran thus : — " Boulogne : January 25. " My deae Father, — I have long, in the course of my legal studies, found the necessity of a knowledge of French, in which THE AMOURS OF MR. DEUOEACE 275 language all the early history of our profession is -written, and hav* determined to take a little relaxation from chamber reading, which has seriously injured my health. If my modest finances can bear a two months' journey, and a residence at Paris, I propose to remain there that period. " Win you Lave the kindness to send me a letter of introduction to Lord Bobtail, our Ambassador'? My name and your old friend- ship with him I know would secure me a reception at his house ; but a pressing letter from yourself would at once be more courteous, and more effectual. " May I also ask you for my last quarter's salary 1 I am not an expensive man, my dear father, as you know; but we are no chameleons, and fifty pounds (with my little earnings in my pro- fession) would vastly add to the agrdmens of my Continental excursion. " Present my love to all my brothers and sisters. Ah ! how I wish the hard portion of a younger son had not been mine, and that I could live without the dire necessity for labour, happy among the rural scenes of my childhood, and in the society of my dear sisters and you ! Heaven bless you, dearest father, and aU those beloved ones now dweHing under the dear old roof at Sizes. — Ever your afiectionate son Algeenon. " The Right Hon. the Earl of Grabs, Jtc. "Sizes Court, Bucks." To this affeckshnat letter his Lordship replied, by return of poast, as folios : — " My dear Algeenon, — Your letter came safe to hand, and I enclose you the letter for Lord Bobtail as you desiue. He is a kind man, and has one of the best cooks in Europe. " We were all charmed with your warm remembrances of us, not having seen you for seven years. We cannot but be pleased at the femily affection which, in spite of time and absence, stiU clings so fondly to home. It is a sad selfish world, and very few who have entered it can afford to keep those fresh feelings which you have, my dear son. " May you long retain them, is a fond father's earnest prayer. Be sure, dear Algernon, that they wiU be through life your greatest comfort, as well as your best worldly ally ; consoling you in mis- fortune, cheering you in depression, aiding and inspiring you to exertion and success. " I am sorry, truly sorry, that my account at Ooutts's is so low, just now, as to render a payment of your allowance for the preseat 276 MEMOIES OF ME. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH impossible. I see by my book that I owe you now nine quarters, or £450. Depend on it, my dear boy, that they shall be faithfully paid over to you on the first opportunity. " By the way, I have enclosed some extracts from the news- papers, which may interest you : and have received a very strange letter from a Mr. Blewitt, about a play transaction, which, I sup- pose, is the case alluded to in these prints. He says you won £4700 from one Dawkins : that the lad paid it ; that he, Blewitt, was to go what he calls ' snacks ' in the winning ; but that you refused to share the booty. How can you, my dear boy, quarrel with these vulgar people, or lay yourself in any way open to their attacks ? I have played myself a good deal, and there is no man living who can accuse me of a doubtful act. You should either have shot this Blewitt or paid him. Now, as the matter stands, it is too late to do the former ; and, perhaps, it would be Quixotic to perform the latter. My dearest boy ! recollect through life that ycm never can afford to be dishonest with a rogue. Four thousand seven hundred pounds was a great covp, to be sure. " As you are now in such high feather, can you, dearest Alger- non ! lend me five hundred pounds ? Upon my soul and honour, I will repay you. Your brothers and sisters send you their love. I need not add, that you have always the blessings of your affectionate father, Oeabs. " P.S. — Make it 500, and I wiU give you my note-of-hand for a thousand." I needn't say that this did not quite enter into Deuceace's eyedears. Lend his father 500 pound, indeed ! He'd as soon have lent him a box on the year ! In the fust place, he hadn seen old Crabs for seven years, as that nobleman remarked in his epistol ; in the secknd he hated him, and they hated each other ; and nex, if master had loved his father ever so much, he loved somebody else better — his father's son, namely : and sooner than deprive that exlent young man of a penny, he'd have scan all the fathers in the world hangin at Newgat, and all the " beloved ones," as he called his sisters, the Lady Deuceacisses, so many convix at Bottomy Bay. The newspaper parrografs showed that, however secret we wished to keep the play transaction, the public knew it now fuU well. Blewitt, as I foimd after, was the author of the libels which appeared right and left : — "Gambling in High Life — The Honmirable Mr. De-c — ce again ! — ^This celebrated whist-player has turned his accomplish- THE AMOURS OF ME. DEUOEACE a>y ments to some profit. On Friday, the 16th January, he won five thousand pounds from a very young gentleman, Th-m-s Sm-th D-wk-ns, Esq., and lost two thousand five himdred to R. Bl-w-tt, Esq., of the T-mple. Mr. D. very honourably paid the sum lost by him to the honourable whist-player, but we have not heard that, before his sudden trip to Paris, Mr. D-uc — ce paid his losings to Mr. Bl-w-tt." Nex came a " Notice to Corryspondents " : — " Fair Play asks us, if we know of the gambling doings of the notorious Deuceace ? We answer. We do ; and, in our very next Number, propose to make some of them public." They didn't appear, however ; but, on the contry, the very same newspeper, which had been before so abusiff of Deuceace, was now loud in his praise. It said : — " A paragraph was inadvertently admitted into our paper of last week, most unjustly assailing the character of a gentleman of high birth and talents, the son of the exemplary E-rl of Cr-bs. We repel, with scorn and indignation, the dastardly falsehoods of the malignant slanderer who vilified Mr. De-ce-ce, and beg to oflier that gentleman the only reparation in our power for having thus tampered with his unsullied name. We disbelieve the rufficm and his story, and most sincerely regret that such a tale, or such a writer, should ever have been brought forward to the readers of this paper." This was satisfactory, and no mistake ; and much pleased we were at the denial of this conshentious editor. So much pleased that master sent him a ten-pound noat, and his complymints. He'd sent another to the same address, before this parrowgraflf was printed; why, I can't think; for I woodn't suppose anything musnary in a littery man. Well, after this bisniss was concluded, the currier hired, the carridge smartened a Uttle, and me set up in my new livries, we bade ojew to Bulong in the grandest state posbiU. What a figure we cut ! and, my i, what a figger the postillion cut ! A cock-hat, a jackit made out of a cow's skin (it was in cold weather), a pig-tale about 3 fit in length, and a pair of boots ! Oh, sich a pare ! A bishop might almost have preached out of one, or a modrat-sized famly slep in it. Me and Mr. Schwigshhnaps, the cmrier, sate behind in the rumbiU ; master aban in the inside, as grand as a 47S MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH Turk, and rapt up in his fine fir-cloak. Off we sett, bowing gracefly to the crowd ; the harniss-bells jinglin, the great white hosses shortin, kickin, and squeelin, and the postilium crackin his wip, as loud as if he'd been drivin her majesty the quean. Well, I shan't describe our voyitch. We passed sefral sitties, willitches, and metrappolishes ; sleeping the fust night at Amiens, witch, as everyboddy knows, is famous ever since the year 1802 for what's called the Pease of Amiens. We had some, very good, done with sugar and brown sos, in the Amiens way. But after all the boasting about them, I think I like our marrowphats better. Speaking of wedgytables, another singler axdent happened here, concarning them. Master, who was brexfasting before going away, told me to go and get him his fur travhng-shoes. I went and toald the waiter of the inn, who stared, grinned (as these chaps always do), said "Bong" (which means, very well), and' presently came back. Fm blest if he didn't bring master a plate of cabbitch I Would you bleave it, that now, in the nineteenth sentry, when they say there's schoolmasters abroad, these stewpid French jackasses are so extonishingly ignorant as to call a cabbidge a shoo ! Never, never let it be said, after this, that these benighted,, souperstitious, misrabble sa/iiidges, are equill,,in any respex, to the great Brittish people. The moor I trawle, the moor I see of the world, and other natiums, I am proud of my own, and despise and deplore the retchid ignorance of the rest of Ypurup. My remarks on Parris you shall have by an early opportunity. Me and Deuceace played some curious pranx there, I can tell you. MR. DEUCEACE AT PARIS CHAPTER I THE Tiro BUNDLES OF HAY E'lUTENANT-GENERAL SIR GEORGE GRIFFIN, K.C.B., was about seventy-five years old when lie left this life, and the East Ingiue army, of which he was a distinguished omy- ment. Sir George's first appearance in Injar was in the character of a cabbingboy to a vessel ; from which he rose to be clerk to the owners at Calcutta, from which he became aU of a sudden a capting in the Company's service ; aiyi so rose and rose, until he rose to be a leftenant-general, when he stopped rising altogether — hopping the twig of this life, as drummers, generals, dustmen, and emperors must do. Sir George did not leave any mal heir to perpetuate the name of Griffin. A widow of about twenty-seven, and a daughter avaritching twenty-three, was left behind to deploar his loss, and share his proppaty. On old Sir George's deth, his interesting widdo and orfau, who had both been with him in Injer, returned home — tried London for a few months, did not like it, and resolved on a trip to Paris ; where very small London people become very great ones, if they've money, as these Griffinses had. The intelligent reader need not be told that Miss Griffin was not the daughter of Lady Griffin ; for though marritches are made tolrabbly early in Injer, people are not quite so precoashoos as aU that : the fact is, Lady G. was Sir George's second wife. I need scarcely add, that Miss Matilda Griffin wos the offspring of his fust marritch. Miss Leonora Kicksey, a ansum lively Islington gal, taken out to Calcutta, and, amongst his other goods, very comfortably disposed of by her imcle, Capting Kicksey, was one-and-twenty when she married Sir George at seventy-one ; and the 13 Miss Kickseys, nine of whom kep a school at Islington (the other 4 being married vari- ously in the City), were not a little envius of my Lady's luck, and not a little proud of their relationship to her. One of 'em, Miss Jemima Kicksey, the oldest, and by no means the least, ugly of the z8o MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLTJSH sett, was staying with her Ladyship, and gev me all the partecklars. Of the rest of the famly, being of a lo sort, I in course no nothink ; my acquaintance, thank my stars, don't lie among them, or the likes of them. Well, this Miss Jemima lived with her younger and more fortnat sister, in the qualaty of companion, or toddy. Poar thing ! I'd a soon he a gaily slave, as lead the life she did ! Everybody in the house despised her ; her Ladyship insulted her ; the very kitching gals scorned and flouted her. She roat the notes, she kep the bills, she made the tea, she whipped the chocklate, she cleaned the canary birds, and gev out the linning for the wash. She was my Lady's walking pocket, or rettycule ; and fetched and carried her handker- cher, or her smell-bottle, like a weU-bred spaniel. AH night, at her Ladyship's swarries, she thumped kidrills (nobody ever thought of asking her to dance ! ) ; when Miss Grifl&ng sung, she played the piano, and was scolded because the singer was out of tune ; abommanating dogs, she never drove out without her Ladyship's puddle in her lap ; and, reglarly unwell in a carriage, she never got anything but the back seat. Poar Jemima ! I can see her now in my Lady's sechnd-heH old clothes (the ladies'-maids always got the prime leavings) : a liloc sattn gown, crumpled, blotched, and greasy ; a pair of white sattn shoes, of the colour of Injer rubber; a faded yellow velvet hat, with a wreath of hartifishl flowers run to sead, and a bird of Parrowdice perched on the top of it, melumcolly and moulting, with only a couple of feathers left in his unfortunate tail. Besides this omyment to their saloon. Lady and Miss Griffin kept a number of other servants in the kitching : 2 ladies'-maids , 2 footmin, six feet high each, crimson coats, goold knots, and white cassymear pantyloons ; a coachmin to match ; a page : and a Shassure, a kind of servant only known among forriners, and who looks more like a major-general than any other mortial, wearing a cock-hat, a unicorn covered with silver lace, mustashos, eplets, and a sword by his side. All these to wait upon two ladies ; not counting a host of the fair sex, such as cooks, scullion, housekeepers, and so forth. My Lady Griffin's lodging was at forty pounds a week, in a grand sweet of rooms in the Plas Vandome at Paris. And, having thus described their house, and their servants' hall, I may give a few words of description concerning the ladies themselves. In the fust place, and in coarse, they hated each other. My Lady was twenty-seven — a widdo of two years — fat, fair, and rosy. A slow, quiet, cold-looking woman, as those fair-haired gals generally are, it seemed difficult to rouse her either into Ukes or dislikes ; to the former, at least. She never loved anybody but one, and that THE AMOURS OF MR. DEUCEACE 281 ■was herself. She hated, in her calm quiet way, almost every one else who came near her — every one, from her neighbour the duke, who had slighted her at dinner, down to John the footman, who had torn a hole in her train. I think this woman's heart was like one of them lithografific stones, you can't ruh out anything when once it's drawn or wrote on it ; nor could you out of her Ladyship's stone — heart, I mean — in the shape of an affront, a slight, or real or phansied injury. She boar an exlent irreprotchable character, against which the tongue of scandal never wagged. She was allowed to be the best wife posbill — and so she was ; but she killed her old husband in two years, as dead as ever Mr. ThurteU killed Mr. William Weare. She never got into a passion, not she — she never said a rude word ; but she'd a genius — a genius which many women have — of making a hell of a house, and tort'ring the poor creatures of her family, until they were weUnigh drove mad. Miss Matilda Griffin was a good deal uglier, and about as amiable as her mother-in-law. She was crooked, and squinted ; my Lady, to do her justice, was straight, and looked the same way with her i's. She was dark, and my Lady was fair — sentimental, as her Ladyship was cold. My Lady was never in a passion — Miss Matilda always ; and awfiUe were the scenes which used to pass between these 2 women, and the wickid wickid quarls which took place. Why did they live together ? There was the mistry. Not related, and hating each other like pison, it would surely have been easier to remain seprat, and so have detested each other at a distans. As for the fortune which old Sir George had left, that, it was clear, was very considrabble — 300 thousand lb. at the least, as I have heard say. But nobody knew how it was disposed of Some said that her Ladyship was sole mistriss of it, others that it was divided, others that she had only a life inkum, and that the money was all to go (as was natral) to Miss Matilda. These are subjix which are not praps very interesting to the British public, but were mighty important to my master, the Honrable Algernon Percy Deuceace, esquire, barrister-at-law, etsettler, etsettler. For I've forgot to inform you that my master was very intimat in this house; and that we were now comfortably settled at the Hotel Mirabew (pronounced Marobo in French), in the Rew delly Pay, at Paris. We had our cab, and two riding-horses; our banker's book, and a thousand pound for a balantz at Lafitt's ; our club at the comer of the Rew Gramong ; our share in a box at the oppras ; our apartments, spacious and elygant ; our swarries at Court ; our dinners at his Excellency Lord Bobtail's and elsewhere. Thanks to poar Dawkins's five thousand pound, we were as complete gentlemen as any in Paris. 282 MEMOIKS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH Now my master, like a wise man as he was, seaing himself at the head of a smart sum of money, and in a country where his debts could not bother him, determined to give up for the present everythink like gambling — at least, high play ; as for losing or winning a ralow of Napoleums at whist or ecarty, it did not matter : it looks like money to do such things and gives a kind of respec- tabilaty. " But as for play, he wouldn't — oh no ! not for worlds ! — do such a thing." He had played, like other young men of fashn, and won and lost [old fox ! he didn't say he had paid] ; but he had given up the amusement, and was now determined, he said, to live on his inkum. The fact is, my master was doing his very best to act the respectable man : and a very good game it is, too ; but it requires a precious great roag to play it. He made his appearans reglar at church — me carrying a hand- some large black marocky Prayer-book and Bible, with the psalms and lessons marked out with red ribbings ; and you'd have thought, as I graivly laid the volloms down before him, and as he berried his head in his nicely brushed hat, before service began, that such a pious, proper, morl, young nobleman was not to be found in the whole of the peeridge. It was a comfort to look at him. Efry old tabby and dowyger at my Lord Bobtail's turned up the wights of their i's when they spoke of him, and vowed they had never seen such a dear, daliteful, exlent young man. What a good son he must be, they said ; and oh, what a good son-in-law ! He had the pick of all the English gals at Paris before we had been there 3 months. But, unfortunately, most of them were poar ; and love and a cottidge was not quite in master's way of thinking. Well, about this time my Lady GriflBn and Miss G. made their appearants at Parris, and master, who was up to snough, very soon changed his noat. He sate near them at chappie, and sung hims with my Lady : he danced with 'em at the embassy balls ; he road with them in the Boy de Balong and the Shandeleasies (which is the French High Park) ; he roat potry in Miss Griffin's halbim, and sang jewets along with her and Lady Griffin ; he brought sweetmeats for the puddle-dog ; he gave money to the footmin, kissis and gloves to the sniggering ladies'-maids ; he was siwle even to poar Miss Kicksey; there wasn't a single soal at the Griffinses that didn't adoar this good young man. The ladies, if they hated befoar, you may be sure detested each other now wuss than ever. There had been always a jallowsy between them : miss jellows of her mother-in-law's bewty ; madam of miss's espree : miss taunting my Lady about the school at Islington, and my Lady snearing at miss for her squint and her crookid back, Afid now came a stronger caws. They both fell in THE AMOUKS OF ME. DEUCEACE 283 love with Mr. Deuceace — ^my Lady, that is to say, as much as she could, with her cold Rslfish temper. She liked Deuceace, who amused her and made her laflF. She liked his manners, his riding, and his good loox ; and being apervinew herself had a dubble respect for real aristocratick ilesh and blood. Miss's love, on the contry, was all flams and fury. She'd always been at this work from the time she had been at school, where she very nigh run away with a Frentch master; next with a footman (which I may say, in confi- dence, is by no means unnatral or unusyouaU, as I could show if I liked) ; and so had been going on sins fifteen. She reglarly flung herself at Deuceace's head — such sighing, crying, and ogling, I never see. Often was I ready to bust out laffin, as I brought master skoais of rose-coloured hillydoos, folded up Uke cockhats, and smellin like barber's shops, which ;this very tender young lady used to address to him. Now, though master was a scoundrill and no mistake, he was a gentlemin, and a man of good breading ; and miss came a little too strong (pardon the wulgarity of the xpression) with her harder and attachmint, for one of his taste. Besides, she had a crookid spine, and a squint; so that (supposing their fortns tobabbly equal) Deuceace reely preferred the mother-in-law. Now, then, it was his bisness to find out which had the most money. With an English famly this would have been easy : a look at a will at Doctor Commons'es would settle the matter at once. But this India naybob's will was at Calcutty, or some outlandish place; and there was no getting sight of a coppy of it. I will do Mr. Algertion Deuceace the justass to say, that he was so little musnary in his love for Lady Griffin, that he would have married her gladly, even if she had ten thousand pounds less than Miss Matilda. In the meantime, his plan was to keep 'em both in play, until he could strike the best fish of the two — not a difficult matter for a man of his genus : besides. Miss was hooked for certain. CHAPTER II "HONOUR THY FATHER" I SAID that my master was adoared by every person in my Lady Griffin's establishmint. I should have said by every person excep one, — a young French gnlmn, that is, who, before our ap- pearants, had been mighty partiklar with my Lady, ockupying by her side exackly the same pasition which the Honrable Mr. Deuceace now held. It was bewtiffle and headifying to see how coolly that young nobleman kicked the poar Shevalliay de FOrge out of his shoes, and how gracefully he himself stept into 'em. Munseer de I'Orge was a smart yoimg French jentleman, of about my master's age and good looks, but not possest of half my master's impidince. Not that that quallaty is uncommon in France ; but few, very few, had it to such a degree as my exlent employer, Mr. Deuceace. Besides De rOrge was reglarly and reely in love with Lady Griffin, and master only pretending : he had, of coars, an advantitch, which the poor Frentchman never could git. He was all smiles and gaty, while Delorge was ockward and melumcolly. My master had said twenty pretty things to Lady Griffin, befor the Shevalier had finished smoothing his hat, staring at her, and sighing fit to bust his weskit. luv, luv ! This isn't the way to win a woman, or my name's not Fitzroy Yellowplush ! Myself, when I begun my carear among the fair six, I was always sighing and moping, like this poar Frenchman. What was the consquints ? The foar fust women I adoared laflft at me, and left me for something more lively. With the rest I have edopted a diffrent game, and with tolerable suxess, I can tell you. But this is eggatism, which I aboar. Well, the long and the short of it is, that Munseer Ferdinand Hyppolite Xavier Stanislas, Shevalier de I'Orge, was reglar cut out by Munseer Algernon Percy Deuceace, Exquire. Poar Ferdinand did not leave the house — he hadn't the heart to do that — nor had my Lady the desire to dismiss him. He was usefle in a thousand different ways, gitting oppra-boxes, and invitations to French swarries, bying gloves, and de Oolong, writing French noats, and such like. Always let me recommend an English famly, going to Paris, to have at least one young man of the sort about them. THE AMOURS OP MR. DEUOEACE 285 Never mind how old your Ladyship is, he will make love to you ; never mind what errints you send him upon, he'll trot off and do them. Besides, he's always quite and well-dresst, and never drinx moar than a pint of wine at dinner, which (as I say) is a pint to consider. Such a conveniants of a man was Munseer de I'Orge — the greatest use and comfort to my Lady posbill ; if it was but to laff at his bad pronunciatium of English, it was somethink amusink ; the fun was to pit him against poar Miss Kicksey, she speakin French, and he our naytif British tong. My master, to do him justace, was peifickly sivvle to this poar young Frenchman ; and having kicked him out of the place which he occupied, sertingly treated his fallen anymy with every respect and consideration. Poar modist down-hearted little Ferdinand adoared my Lady as a goddice ! and so he was very polite, likewise, to my master — never venturing once to be jellows of him, or to question my Lady Griffin's right to change her lover, if she choase to do so. Thus, then, matters stood; master had two strinx to his bo, and might take either the widdo or the orfh, as he preferred : com bong Iwee somblay, as the Frentch say. His only pint was to dis- cover how the money was disposed off, which evidently belonged to one or other, or boath. At any rate he was sure of one ; as sure as any mortal man can be in this sublimary spear, where nothink is suttin except unsertnty. A very unixpected insident here took place, which in a good deal changed my master's calkylations. One night, after conducting the two ladies to the oppra, after suppink of white soop, sammy-deperdrow, and shampang glassy (which means, eyced), at their house in the Plas Vandom, me and master droav hoam in the cab, as happy as possbiU. " Chawls you d — d scoundrel," says he to me (for he was in an cedent humer), "when I'm married, I'll dubbil your wagis." This he might do, to be sure, without injaring himself, seing that he had as yet never paid me any. But, what then? Law bless us ! things would be at a pretty pass if we suvvants only lived on our wagis ; our puckwisits is the thing, and no mistake. I ixprest my gratitude as best I could ; swoar that it wasn't for wagis I served him — that I woidd as leaf weight upon him for nothink ; and that never never, so long as I livd, would I, of my own accord, part from such an exlent master. By the time these two spitches had been made — my spitch and his — we arrived at the " Hotel Mirabeu ; " which, as everybody knows, ain't very distant from the Plas Vandome. Up we marched to our apartmince, me 286 MEMOIRS OP MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH carrying the light and the cloax, master hummink a hair out of the oppra, as merry as a lark. I opened the door of our salong. There was lights already in the room ; an empty shampang bottle roalin on the floar, another on the table : near which the sofy was drawn, and on it lay a stout old genlmn, smoaking seagars as if he'd bean in an inn tap-room. Deuceace (who abommanates seagars, as I've already shown) bust into a furious raige against the genlmn, whom he could hardly see for the smoak ; and, with a number of oaves quite unnecessary to repeat, asked him what bisiniss he'd there. The smoaking chap rose, and, laying down his seagar, began a ror of laffin, and said, " What ! Algy my boy ! don't you know me 1 " The reader may praps recklect a very affecting letter which was published in the last chapter of these memoars ; in which the writer requested a loan of five hundred pound from Mr. Algernon Deuceace, and which boar the respected signatur of the Earl of Crabs, Mr. Deuceace's own father. It was that distinguished arastycrat who was now smokin and laffin in our room. My Lord Crabs was, as I preshumed, about 60 years old. A stowt, burly, red-faced, bald-headed nobleman, whose nose seemed blushing at what his mouth was continually swallowing; whose hand, praps, trembled a little; and whose thy and legg was not quite so full or as steddy as they had been in former days. But he was a respecktabble, fine-looking old nobleman ; and though it must be confest, | drunk when we fust made our appearance in the salong, yet by no means moor so than a real noblemin ought to be. " What, Algy my boy ! " shouts out his Lordship, advancing and seasing master by the hand, " doan't you know your own father ? " Master seemed anythink but overhappy. " My Lord," says he, looking very pail, and speakin rayther slow, " I didn't— I confess — the unexpected pleasure — of seeing you in Paris. The fact is, sir," said he, recovering himself a little ; " the fact is, there was such a confounded smoke of tobacco in the room, that I really could not see who the stranger was who had paid me such an unexpected visit." " A bad habit, Algernon ; a bad habit," said my Lord, lighting another seagar : "a disgusting and filthy practice, which you, my dear child, wiU do well to avoid. It is at best, dear Algernon, but a nasty idle pastime, unfitting a man as well for mental exertion as for respect- able society ; sacrificing, at once, the vigour of the intellect and the graces of the person. By-the-bye, what infernal bad tobacco they have, too, in this hotel. Could not you send your servant to get me a few seagars at the Ca£6 de Paris ! Give him a five-franc piece, and let him go at once, that's a good fellow." Here his Lordship hiccupt, and drank oif a. fl"eah, tumbler of THE AMOURS OF MR. DEUCEACE , 287 shampang. Very sulkily, master drew out the coin, and sent me on the errint. Knowing the Caf^ de Paris to be shut at that hour, I didn't say a word, but quietly establisht myself in the ante-room ; where, as it happened by a singler coinstdints, I could hear every word of the conversation between this exlent pair of relatifs. " Help yourself, and get another bottle," says my Lord, after a solium paws. My poar master, the king of all other compnies in which he moved, seamed here Ijut to play secknd fiddiU, and went to the cubbard, from which his father had abeady igstracted two bottils of his prime Sillary. He put it down before his father, coft, spit, opened the windows, stirred the fire, yawned, clapt his hand to his forehead, and suttnly seamed as uneezy as a genlmn could be. But it was of no use ; the old one would not budg. " Help yourself," says he again, " and pass me the bottil." "You are very good, father," says master; "but really, I, neither drink nor smoke." " Right, my boy : quite right. Talk about a good conscience in this life — a good stomach is everythink. No bad nights, no headachs^eh ? Quite cool and collected for your law studies in the morning ? — «ih ? " And the old nobleman here grinned, in a manner which would have done creddit to Mr. Grimoldi. Master sate paJe and wincing, as I've seen a pore soldier under the cat. He didn't anser a word. His exlent pa went on, warming as he continued to speak, and drinking a fresh glas at evry full stop. " How you must improve, with such talents and such principles ! Why, Algernon, aU London talks of your industry and perseverance: you're not merely, a philosopher, man ; hang it ! you've got the philosopher's stone. Fine rooms, fine horses, champagne, and aU for 200 a year ! " "I presume, sir," says my master, "that you mean the two hundred a year which you pay me ? " " The very sum, my boy ; the very sum ! " cries my Lord, laflSn as if he would die. " Why, that's the wonder ! I never pay the two hundred a year, and you keep aU this state up upon nothing. Give me your secret, you young Trismegistus ! Tell your old father how such wonders can be worked, and I will — yes, then, upon my word, I will — pay you your two hundred a year ! " " Enjm, my Lord," says Mr. Deuceace, starting up, and losing all patience, " will you have the goodness to tell me what this visit means 1 You leave me to starve, for all you care ; and you grow mighty facetious because I earn my bread. You find me in pros- perity and " 288 MEMOIRS OF ME. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH "Precisely, my boy, precisely. Keep your temper, and pass that bottle. I find you in prosperity ; and a yoimg gentleman of your genius and acquirements asks me why I seek your society 1 Oh, Algernon ! Algernon ! this is not worthy of such a profound philosopher. Why do I seek you 1 Why, because you are in pros- perity, my sou ! else, why the devil should I bother myself about you ? Did I, your poor mother, or your family, ever get from you a single affectionate feeling ? Did we, or any other of your friends or intimates, ever know you to be guilty of a single honest or gene- rous action ? Did we ever pretend any love for you, or you for us ? Algernon Deuceace, you don't want a father to tell you that you are a swindler and a spendthrift ! I have paid thousands for the debts of yourself and your brothers ; and, if you pay nobody else, I am determined you shall repay me. You would not do it by fair means, when I wrote to you and asked you for a loan of money. I knew you would not. Had I written again to warn you of my coming, you would have given me the slip ; and so I came, uninvited, to force you to repay me. That's why I am here, Mr. Algernon ; and so help yourself and pass the bottle." After this speach, the old genlmn sunk down on the sofa, and puffed as much smoke out of his mouth as if he'd been the chimley of a steam-injian. I was pleased, I confess, with the sean, and liked to see this venrabble and virtuous old man a^nocking his son about the hed ; just as Deuceace had done with Mr. Richard Blewitt, as I've before shown. Master's face was, fust, red-hot : next, chawk- white ; and then, sky-blew. He looked, for aU the world, like Mr. Tippy Cooke in the tragady of Frankinstamg. At last, he man- nidged to speek. "My Lord," says he, "I expected when I saw you that some such scheme was on foot. Swindler and spendthrift as I am, at least it is but a family failing ; and I am indebted for my virtues to my father's precious example. Your Lordship has, I perceive, added drunkenness to the list of your accomplishments ; and, I suppose, under the influence of that gentlemanly excitement, you have come to make these preposterous propositions to me. When you are sober, you will, perhaps, be wise enough to know, that, fool as I may be, I am not such a fool as you think me ; and that if I have got money I intend to keep it — every farthing of it, though you were to be ten times as drunk, and ten times as threatening as you are now.'' " Well, well, my boy,'' said Lord Crabs, who seemed to have been half-asleep during his son's oratium, and received all his sneers and surcasms with the most complete good-humour ; " well, well, if you wiU resist, tant pis pour toi. I've no desire to ruin you, THE AMOURS OP MR. DEUOEACE 289 recollect, and am not in the slightest degree angry ; but I must and will have a thousand pounds. You had better give me the money at once ; it will cost you more if you don't." " Sir," says Mr. Deuceace, " I wiU be equally candid. I would not give you a farthing to save you from " Here I thought proper to open the doar, and, touching my hat, said, " I have been to the Cafd de Paris, my Lord, but the house is shut." " Bon : there's a good lad ; you may keep the five francs. And now, get me a candle and show me downstairs." But my master seized the wax taper. " Pardon me, my Lord," says he. " What ! a servant do it, when your son is in the room % Ah, par exemple, my dear father," said he, laughing, " you think there is no politeness left among us." And he led the way out. " Good-night, my dear boy," said Lord Crabs. " God bless you, sir," says he. " Are you wrapped warm ? Mind the step ! " And so this affeckshnate pair parted. CHAPTER III MINE^VRING MASTER rose the nex morning with a dismal countinamts — he seamed to think that his pa's visit boded him no good. I heard him muttering at his brexfast, and fum- bling among his hundred pound notes ; once he had laid a parsle of them aside (I knew what he meant), to send 'em to his father, "But no," says he at last, clutching them all up to- gether again, and throwing them into his escritaw, "what harm can he do me? If he is a knave, I know another who's full as sharp. Let's see if we cannot beat him at his own weapons." With that Mr. Deuceace drest himself in his best clothes, and marched off to the Plas Vandom, to pay his cort to the fair widdo and the intresting orfn. It was abowt ten o'clock, and he propoased to the ladies, on seeing them, a number of planns for the day's rackryation. Riding in the Body Balong, going to the Twillaries to see King Looy Disweet (who was then the raining suflferin of the French crownd) go to chappie, and, finely, a dinner at 5 o'clock at the CafFy de Parry ; whents they were all to adjourn, to see a new peace at the theatre of the Pot St. Martin, called " Sussannar and the Elders." The gals agread to everythink, exsep the two last preposi- tiums. "We have an engagement, my dear Mr. Algernon," said lay Lady. " Look — a very kind letter from Lady Bobtail." And she handed over a pafewmd noat from that exolted lady. It ran thus : — " Fbq. St. HONOEfi : Thursday, Feb. 15, 1817. " My dear Lady Geiffin, — It is an age since we met. Harassing public duties occupy so much myself and Lord Bobtail, that we have scarce time to see our private friends ; among whom, I hope, my dear Lady Griffin will allow me to rank her. WiU you excuse so very unceremonious an invitation, and dine with us at the embassy to-day 1 We shall be en petite comite, and shall have the pleasure of hearing, I hope, some of your charming daughter's singing in the evening. I ought, perhaps, to have addressed a THE AMOURS OF MR. DEUOEACE igt separate note to dear Miss GriflEln ; but I hope she will pardon a poor diplomate, who has so many letters to write, you know. " Farewell till seven, when I positively must see you both. Ever, dearest Lady Griffin, your affectionate "Eliza Bobtaii." Such a letter from the ambassdriss, brot by the ambasdor's Shassure, and sealed with his seal of arms, would affect anybody in the middling ranx of life. It droav Lady Griffin mad with delight ; and, long before my master's arrivle, she'd sent Mortimer and Fitzclaxence, her two footmin, along with a polite reply in the affummatiff. Master read the neat with no such fealinx of joy. He felt that there was somethink a-going on behind the seans, and, though he could not tell how, was sute that some danger was near him. That old fox of a father of his had begun his M'Inations pretty early! Deuceace handed back the letter; sneared, and poohd, and hinted that such an invitation was an insult at best (what he called a pees ally) ; and, the ladies might depend upon it, was only sent because Laxly Bobtail wanted to fill up two spare places at her table. But Lady Griffin and Miss would not have his insinwations; they knew too fu lords ever to refuse an invitatium from any one of them. Go they would ; and poor Deuceace must dine alone. After they had been on their ride, and had had their other amuse- mince, master came back with them, chatted, and laft; he was mighty sarkastix with my Lady; tender and sentrymentle with Miss, and left them both in high sperrits to perform their twollet, before dinner. As I came to the door (for I was as famillyer as a servant of the house), as I came into the drawing-room to announts his cab, I saw master very quietly taking his pocket-book (or pot fool, as the French call it) and thrusting it under one of the cushinx of the sofa. What game is this ? thinx I. Why, this was the game. In about two howrs, when he knew the ladies were gon, he pretends to be vastly anxious abowt the loss of his potfolio ; and back he goes to Lady Griffinses to seek for it there. "Pray," says he, on going in, "ask Miss Kicksey if I may see her for a single moment." And down comes Miss Kicksey, quite smiling, and happy to see him. "Law, Mr. Deuceace!" says she, trying to blush as hard as ever she could, " you quite surprise ine ! I don't know whether I ought, really, being alone, to admit a gentleman." 292 MEMOIRS OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH " Nay, don't say so, dear Miss Kicksey ! for do you know, I came here for a double purpose — to ask about a pocket-book which I have lost, and may, perhaps, have left here ; and then, to ask you if you will have the great goodness to pity a solitary bachelor, and give him a cup of your nice tea 1 " Nice tea I I thot I should have split ; for I'm blest if master had eaten a morsle of dinner ! Never mind : down to tea they sat. " Do you take cream and sugar, dear sir ? " says poar Kicksey, with a voice as tender as a tuttle-duff. " Both, dearest Miss Kicksey ! " answers master ; who stowed in a power of sashong and muffinx which would have done honour to a washawoman. I shan't describe the conversation that took place betwigst master and this young lady. The reader, praps, knows y Deuceace took the trouble to talk to her for an hour, and to swallow all her tea. He wanted to find out from her all she knew about the famly money matters, and settle at once which of the two Griffinses he should marry. The poar thing, of cors, was no match for such a man as my master. In a quarter of an hour, he had, if I may use the igspres- sion, " turned her inside out." He knew everything that she knew ; and that, poar creature, was very little. There was nine thousand a year, she had heard say, in money, in houses, in banks in Injar, and what not. Boath the ladies signed papers for selling or buying, and the money seemed equilly divided betwigst them. Nine thousand a year ! Deuceace went away, his cheex ting- ling, his heart beating. He, without a penny, could nex morning, if he liked, be master of five thousand per hannum ! Yes. But how? Which had the money, the mother or the daughter? All the tea-drinking had not taught him this piece of noUidge ; and Deuceace thought it a pity that he could not marry both. The ladies came back at night, mightaly pleased with their re- ception at the ambasdor's ; and, stepping out of their canidge, bid coachmin drive on with a gentlemin who had handed them out — a stout old gentlemin, who shook hands most tenderly at parting, and promised to caU often upon my Lady Griffin. He was so polite, that he wanted to mount the stairs with her Ladyship ; but no, she would not suffer it. " Edward," says she to the coachmin, quite loud, and pleased that all the people in the hotel shoiUd hear her, " you will take the carriage, and drive his Lordship home." Now, can you guess who his Lordship was ? The Right Hon. the THE AMOUKS OF ME. DEUCEACE 293 Earl of Crabs, to be sure ; the very old genlmn whom I had seen on such charming terms -with his son the day before. Master knew this the nex day, and began to think he had been a fool to deny his pa the thousand pound. Now, though the suckmstansies of the dinner at the ambasdor's only came to my years some time after, I may as well relate 'em here, word for word, as they was told me by the very genlmn who waited behind Lord Crabseses chair. There was only a "petty comity" at dinner, as Lady Bobtail said ; and my Lord Crabs was placed betwigst the two Griffinses, being mighty ellygant and palite to both. " Allow me," says he to Lady G. (between the soop and the fish), "my dear madam, to thank you — fervently thank you for your goodness to my poor boy. Your Ladyship is too young to experience, but, I am sure, far too tender not to understand the gratitude which must fill a fond parent's heart for kindness shown to his child. Believe me," says my Lord, looking her full and tenderly in the face, " that the favours you have done to another have been done equally to myself, and awaken in my bosom the same grateful and affectionate feelings with which you have already inspired my son Algernon." Lady GriflBn blusht, and droopt her head till her ringlets fell into her fish-plate : and she swallowed Lord Crabs's flumry just as she would so many musharuins. My Lord (whose powers of slack- jaw was notoarious) nex addrast another spitch to Miss Griffin. He said he'd heard how Deuceace was situated. Miss blusht — what a happy dog he was — Miss blusht crimson, and then he sighed deeply, and began eating his turbat and lobster sos. Master was a good un at flumry, but, law bless you ! he was no moar equill to the old man than a molehill is to a mounting. Before the night was over, he had made as much progress as another man would in a ear. One almost forgot his red nose and his big stomick, and his wicked leering i's, in his gentle insiniwating woice, his fund of annygoats, and, above all, the bewtifle, morl, religious, and honrabble toan of his genral conversation. Praps you will say that these ladies were, for such rich pipple, mightaly esaly captivated ; but recklect, my dear sir, that they were fresh from Injar, — that they'd not sean many lords, — that they adoared the peeridge, as every honest woman does in England who has proper feelinx, and has read the fashnabble novvles, — and that here at Paris was their fust step into fashnabble sosiaty. WeU, after dinner, while Miss Matilda was singing " Die tantie," or '-Dip your chair," or some of them sellabrated Italyian hairs (when she began this squall, hang me if she'd ever stop), my Lord 294 MEMOIKS OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH gets hold of Lady Griffin again, and gradgaly begins to talk to her in a very different strane. " What a blessing it is for us all," says he, " that Algernon has found a friend so respectable as yoiir Ladyship." " Indeed, my Lord ; and why t I suppose I am not the only respectable friend that Mr. Deuceace has 1 " " No, surely ; not the only one he has had ; his birth, and, permit me to say, his relationship to myself, have procured him many. But " (here my Lord heaved a very affecting and large sigh). " But what ? " says my Lady, laffing at the igspression of his dismal face. " You don't mean that Mr. Deuceace has lost them or is unworthy of them 1 " "I trust not, my dear madam, I trust not; but he is wild, thoughtless, extravagant, and embarrassed ; and you know a man under these circumstances is not very particular as to his associates." " Embarrassed ? Good heavens ! He says he has two thousand a year left him by a godmother; and he does not seem even to spend his income — a very handsome independence, too, for a bachelor." My Lord nodded his head sadly, and said, — " WUl your Lady- ship give me your word of honour to be secret 1 My son has but a thousand a year, which I allow him, and is heavily in debt. He has played, madam, I fear; and for this reason I am so glad to hear that he is in a respectable domestic circle, where he may learn, in the presence of far greater and purer attractions, to forget the dice-box, and the low company which has been his bane." My Lady Griffin looked very grave indeed. Was it true ? Was Deuceace sincere in his professions of love, or was he only a sharper wooing her for her money? Could she doubt her informer? his own father, and, what's more, a real flesh and blood pear of parly- ment? She determined she would try him. Praps she did not know she had liked Deuceace so much, until she kem to feel how much she should hate him if she found he'd been playing her false. The evening was over, and back they came, as wee've seen, — my Lord driving home in my Lady's carridge, her Ladyship and Miss walking upstairs to their own apartmince. Here, for a wonder, was poar Miss Kicksy quite happy and smiling, and evidently full of a secret, — something mighty pleasant, to judge from her loox. She did not long keep it. As she was making tea for the ladies (for in that house they took a cup regular before bedtime), " Well, my Lady," says she, " who do you think has been to drink tea with me ? " Poar thing, a frendly face was an event in her life — a tea-party quite a hera ! THE AMOUES OF MR. DEUCEAOE 29J " Why, perhaps, Lenoir my maid," says my Lady, looking grave. " I wish, Miss Kicksey, you would not demean yourself by mixing with my domestics. EecoUect, madam, that you are sister to Lady Griflan." " No, my Lady, it was not Lenoir ; it was a gentleman, and a handsome gentleman, too." " Oh, it was Monsieur de I'Orge, then," says Miss ; " he promised to bring me some guitar-strings." " No, nor yet M. de I'Orge. He came, but was not so polite as to ask for me. What do you think of your oWn beau, the Honourable Mr. Algernon Deuceace 1 " and, so saying, p6ar Kicksey clapped her hands together, and looked as joyfle as if she'd eofife into a fortin. "Mr. Deuceace here; and why, pray?" says my Lady, who recklected aU that his exlent pa had been saying to her. "Why, in the first place, he had left his pocket-book, and in the second, he wanted, he said, a dish of my nice tea ; which he took, and stayed with me an hour, or moar." " And pray. Miss Kicksey," said Miss Matilda, quite contemp- shusly, " what may have been the subject of your conversation with Mr. Algernon? Did you talk politics, or music, or fine arts, of metaphysics?" Miss M. being what was called a blue (as most hump-backed women in sosiaty are), always made a pint to speak on these grand subjects. " No, indeed ; he talked of no such awfiil matters. If he had, you know, Matilda, I should never have understood him. First we talked about the weather, next about muffins and crumpets. Crumpets, he said, he hked best ; and then we talked " (here Miss Kicksey's voice fell) " about poor dear Sir George in heaven ! what a good husband he was, and " "What a good fortune he left, — eh. Miss Kicksey?" says my Lady, with a hard snearing voice, and a diabollicle grin. " Yes, dear Leonora, he spoke so respectfully of your blessed husband, and seemed so anxious about you and Matilda, it was quite charming to hear him, dear man ! " " And pray. Miss Kicksey, what did you teU. him ? " " Oh, I told him that you and Leonora had nine thousand a year, and " "What then?" " Why, nothing ; that is all I know. I am sure I wish I had ninety," says poor Kicksey, her eyes turning to heaven. "Ninety fiddlesticks! Did not Mr. Deuceace ask how the money was left, and to which of us ? " "Yes; but I could not tell him." 296 MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH " I knew it ! " says my Lady, slapping down her tea^cup, — " I knew it ! " "Well!" says Miss Matilda, "and why not, Lady Griffin? There is no reason you should break your tea-cup, because Algernon asks a harmless question. He is not mercenary ; he is all candour, innocence, generosity ! He is himself blessed with a sufficient portion of the world's goods to be content ; and often and often has he told me he hoped the woman of his choice might come to him without a penny, that he might show the purity of his affection." "I've no doubt," says my Lady. "Perhaps the lady of his choice is Miss Matilda Griffin ! " and she flung out of the room, slamming the door, and leaving Miss Matilda to bust into tears, as was her reglar custom, and pour her loves and woas into the buzzom of Miss Kicksey. CHAPTER IV "mrTING THE NALE ON THE HEDD" THE nex morning, down came me and master to Lady GrriflBnses, — I amusing rdyBelf with the galfe in the smtyroom, he paying liis devours to the ladies in the salong. Miss was thrumming on her gitter ; my Lady was before a great box of papers, busy with accounts, bankers' books, lawyers' letters, and what not. Law bless us ! it's a kind of bisniss I should like well enuff ; especially when my hannual account was seven or eight thousand on the right side, like my Lady's. My Lady in this house kep all these matters to hersel£ Miss was a vast deal too sentrimentle to mind business. Miss Matilda's eyes sparkled as master came in; she pinted gracefully to a place on the spfy beside her, which Deuceace took. My Lady only looked up for a moment, sfflUed very kindly, and down went her head among the papers agen, as busy as a £. "Lady Griffin has had letters from London," says Miss, "from nasty lawyers and people. Oome here and sit by me, you naughty man you ! " And down sat master. "Willingly," says he, "my dear Miss Griffin ; why, I declare, it is quite a tSte-a-tite." "Well," says MisS (after the prillimnary flumriesj in coarse), " we met a friend ©f yours at the embassy, Mr. Deuceace." " My father, doubtless ; he is a great friend of the ambassador, and surprised me myself by a visit the night before last." " What a dear delightful old man ! how he loves you, Mr. Deuceace ! " " Oh, amaidngly ! " says master, throwing his i's to heaven. " He spoke of nothing but you, and such praises of you ! " Master breathed more freely. "He is very good, my dear father; but blind, as all fathers are, he is so partial and attached to me." " He spoke of you being his favourite child, and regretted that you were not his eldest son. ' I can but leave him the small portion of a younger brother,' he said ; ' but never mind, he has talents, a noble name, and an independence of his own.' " 298 MEMOIES OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH "An independence? yes, oh yes; I am quite independent of my father." " Two thousand pounds a year left you by your godmother ; the very same you told us, you know." " Neither more nor less," says master, bobbing his head ; " a sufficiency, my dear Miss Griffin, — to a man of my moderate habits an ample provision." " By-the-bye," cries out Lady Griffin mterrupting the conversa- tion, " you who are talking about money matters there, I wish you would come to the aid of poor me ! Come, naughty boy, and help me out with this long long sum." Didn't he go — ^that's all ! My i, how his i's shone, as he skipt across the room, and seated himself by my Lady ! " Look ! " said she, " my agents write me over that they have received a remittance of 7200 rupees, at 2s. 9d. a rupee. Do teU me what the sum is, in pounds and shillings ; " which master did with great gravity. " Nine hundred and ninety pounds. Good ; I dare say you are right. I'm sure I can't go through the fatigue to see. And now comes another question. Whose money is this, mine or MatUda's ? You s6e it is the interest of a sum in India, which we have not had occasion to touch ; and, according to the terms of poor Sir George's wiU, I really don't know how to dispose of the money except to spend it. Matilda, what shall we do with it ? " " La, ma'am, I wish you would arrange the business yourself" " Well, then, Algernon, you teU me ; " and she laid her hand on his, and looked him most pathetickly in the face. " Why," says he, " I don't know how Sir George left his money; you must let me see his *ill, first." " Oh, willingly." Master's chair seemed suddenly to have got springs in the cushns; he was obliged to hold himself down. "Look here, I have only a copy, taken by my hand from Sir George's own manuscript. Soldiers, you know, do not employ lawyers much, and this was written on the night before going into action." And she read, " ' I, George Griffin,' &c. &c. — ^you know how these things begin — ' being now of sane mind ' — um, um, um, — :' leave to my friends, Thomas Abraham Hicks, a colonel in the H. E. L Company's Service, and to John Monro Mackirkincroft (of the boipe of Huffle, Mackirkincroft, and Dobbs, at Calcutta), the -whojfi of iny property, to be realised as speedily as they may (con- sistently with the interests of the property), in trust for my wife, "Leouoj'a jSmilia Griffin (bom L. E. Kicksey), and my only legitimate dMld, Matilda Griffin. The interest resulting from such property THE AMOURS OF MB. DECJOEACE 299 to be paid to them, share and share alike ; the principal to remain untouched, in the names of the said T. A. Hicks and J. M. Mac- kirkincroft, until the death of my wife, Leonora Emilia GriiEn, when it shall be paid to my daughter, Matilda Griffin, her heirs, executors, or assigns.' " " There," said my Lady, " we won't read any more ; all the rest is stuff. But now you know the whole business, tell us what is to be done with the money ? " "Why, the money, unquestionably, should be divided between you." " Tant mieux, say I; I really thought it had been all Matilda's.'' There was a paws for a minit or two after the will had been read. Master left the desk at which he had been seated with her Ladyship, paced up and down the room for a whDe, and then came round to the place where Miss Matilda was seated. At last he said, in a low, trembling voice, — " I am almost sorry, my dear Lady Grifiin, that you have read that will to me ; for an attachment such as mine must seem, I fear, mercenary, when the object of it is so greatly favoured by worldly fortune. Miss Griffin — Matilda ! I know I may say the word ; your dear eyes grant me the permission. I need not teU you, or you, dear mother-in-law, how long, how fondly, I have adored you. My tender, my beautiftil Matilda, I will not affect to say I have not read your heart ere this, and that I have not known the preference with which you have honoured me. Speak it, dear girl ! from your own sweet lips : in the presence of an affectionate parent, utter the sentence which is to seal my happiness for life. Matilda, dearest Matilda ! say, oh say, that you love me ! " Miss M. shivered, turned paU, rowled her eyes about, and fell on master's neck, whispering hodibly, " I do / " My Lady looked at the pair for a moment with her teeth grinding, her i's glaring, her busm throbbing, and her face chock white ; for all the world like Madam Pasty, in the oppra of " Mydear " (when she's goin to mudder her childring, you recklect) ; and out she flounced from the room, without a word, knocking down poar me, who happened to be very near the dor, and leaving my master along with crook-back mistress. I've repotted the speech he made to her pretty well. The fact is, I got it in a ruff copy; only on the copy it's wrote, "Lady Griffin, Lecmara I " instead of " Miss Griffin, Matilda" as ia the abuff, and so on. Master had hit the right nail on the head this time, he thought : but his adventors an't over yet. CHAPTER V THE GRIFPIi^'S CLAWS WELL, master had hit the right nail on the head this time : thanx to luck — the crooked one, to be sure, but then it had the goold nobb, which was the part Deuceace most valued, as well he should ; being a connyshure as to the relletiff valyou of pretious metals, and much preferring virging goold like this to poor old battered iron like my Lady Griffin. And so, in spite of his father (at which old noblemin Mr. Deuceace now snapt his fingers), in spite of his detts (which, to do him Justas, had never stood much in his way), and in spite of his povatty, idle- ness, extravagans, swindling, and debotcheries of all kinds (which an't generally very favorable to a yoimg man who has to mg,ke his way in the world) ; in spite of all, there he was, I say, at the topp of the trea, the fewcher master of a perfect fortun, the defianced husband of a fool of a wife. What can mortial man want more ? Vishns of ambishn now occupied his soal. Shooting boxes, oppra boxes, money boxes always fuU ; hunters at Meltom ; a seat in the House of Oommins : Heaven knows what ! and not a poar footman, who only describes what he's seen, and can't, in cors, pennytrate into the idears and the busms of men. Yqu may be shore that the three-cornered noats came pretty thick now itom the Griffinses. Miss was always a-writiug them befoar ; and now, nite, noon, and momink, breakfast, dinner, and sopper, in they came, till my pantry (for master never read 'em, and I carried 'em out) was pufBckly intolrabble from the odor of musk, ambygrease, bargymot, and other sense with which they were impregniated. Here's the contense of three on 'em, which I've bep in my dex these twenty years as skeewriosities. Faw ! I can smel 'em at this very minit, as I am copying them down. Billy Doo. No. I. Monday mormmg, 2 o'eloclc. " 'Tis the witching hour of night. Luna illumines my chamber, and falls upon my sleepless pillow. By her light I am inditing THE AMOUES OF MK. DEUCEAOE 301 these words to tkee, my Algermoru My brave and beautiful, my soul's lord ! wheal shall the time come when the tedious night shall not separate us, nor the blessed day? Twelve ! one ! two ! I have heard the bels cMme, and the quarters, and never cease to think of my husband. My adored Percy, pai-don the girlish confession, — I have kissed the letter at this; place. Will thy lips press it teo, and remami for a moment on the spot which has been equally saluted by your Matilda 1 " This was the fust letter, and was brot to our house by one of the poar footinin, Fitzofeurence, at sicks o'clock in the morning. I thot it was for life and deaths and woak master at that extraomary hom-, and gave it to him. I shaM never forgit him, when he red it ; he cramped it up, and b© oust amd swoaiT, applying to the lady who roat, the genhnn that brought it, and me who introjuiced it to his notice such a colteotiten of epitais as I seMum hered, except at BiUinxgit. The fiict is thiss : for a fust letter. Miss's n«at was rasther too stiouiig amd sentymeiaitle. But that was her way; she was alwaiys BKid&ig melamcholy stoary bowlES — " Thaduse of Waw- saw," the " Sorrows of MacWhirter," and sueb:Kke. After about 6 of them, master never yoused to read them ; but handid them over to me, to see if there was anythink in them which must be answered, in order to Mp up appearuntses. ' The next letter is*— No. II. " BiLovED ! to what strange madliesses will passicm lead one ! Lady Griffin', since your avowal yesterday, has not spoken a word to your poor Matilda; has deefaed that she wil' admit no one (heigho ! not even yo«, my Algernon) ; and has locked' h«rself in her own dressing-room. I do- beEeve that she is jealous, and fancies that yo# were in love with her ! Ha, ha ! I could have told her OMother tale — n'est ce pas ? Adieu, adieu, adieu ! A thousand thousand million kisses ! M. G-. " Mondiaif mfleimimn, 2 o'tlaek." There was another letter kern before bedtime; for though me and ims^ter called at the GiifSmses, we waimt aloud to enter at no price. Mortimer and Fitzclarence grin'd at me, as much as to say we were going to be relations ; but I don't spose master was very sorry when he was obleached to come back without seeing the fair objict of his afieeksfcns. Well, on Ohewsdy there was the same game; ditto on Weaasday ; 303 MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH only, when we called there, who should we see but our father, Lord Crabs, who was waiving his hand to Miss Kicksey, and saying he should be bach to dinner at 7, just as me and master came up the stares. There was no admittns for us though. " Bah ! bah ! never mind," says my Lord, taking his son affeckshnately by the hand. " What, two strings to your bow ; ay, Algernon ? The dowager a little jealous, miss a little lovesick. But my Lady's fit ot anger will vanish, and I promise you, my boy, that you shall see your fair one to-morrow." And so saying, my Lord walked master down stares, looking at him as tender and aflFeckshnat, and speaking to him as sweet as posbiU. Master did not know what to think of it. He never new what game his old father was at ; only he somehow felt that he had got his head in a net, in spite of his suxess on Sunday. I knew it — I knew it quite well, as soon as I saw the old genlmn igsammin him, by a kind of smile which came over his old face, and was somethink betwigst the angeUic and the direboUicle. But master's dowts were cleared up nex day and every thing was bright again. At brexfast, in comes a note with inclosier, boath of witch I here copy : — No. IX. " Thursday momimg. " Victoria, Victoria ! Mamma has yielded at last ; not her consent to our union, but her consent to receive you as before ; and has promised to forget the past. SLUy woman, how could she ever think of. you as anything but the lover of your Matilda ■? I am in a whirl of dehcious joy and passionate excitement. I have been awake all this long 'night, thinking of thee, my Algernon, and longing for the blissful hour of meeting. "Come! "M. G." This is the inclosier from my Lady : — " I WILL not tell you that your behaviour on Sunday did not deeply shock me. I had been foolish enough to think of other plans, and to fancy yoiu: heart (if you had any) was fixed elsewhere than on one at whose foibles you have often laughed with me, and whose person at least cannot have charmed you. " My step-daughter will not, I presume, marry without at least going through the ceremony of asking my consent ; I cannot, as yet, give it. Have I not reason to doubt whether she will be happy in trusting herself to you ? THE AMOURS OF ME. DEUCEAOE 303 " But she is of age, and has the right to receive in her own house all those who may be agreeable to her — certainly you, who are likely to be one day so nearly connected with her. If I have honest reason to believe that your love for Miss Griffin is sincere ; if I find in a few months that you yourself are still desirous to marry her, I can, of course, place no fiirther obstacles in your way. " You are welcome, then, to return to our hotel. I cannot pro- mise to receive you as I did of old ; you would despise me if I did. I can promise, however, to think no more of all that has passed between us, and yield up my own happiness for that of the daughter of my dear husband. L. E. G." Well, now, an't this a manly, straitforard letter enough, and natral from a woman whom we had, to confess the truth, treated most scuvvily ? Master thought so, and went and made a tender respecldul speach to Lady Griffin (a little flumry costs nothink). Grave and sorrofle he kist her hand, and, speakin in a very low adgitayted voice, caUd Hevn to witness how he deplord that his conduct should ever have given rise to such an unfortnt ideer : but if he might offer her esteem, respect, the warmest and tenderest admiration, he trusted she would accept the same, and a deal moar flumry of the kind, with dark solium glansis of the eyes, and plenty of white pockit-hankercher. He thought he'd make all safe. Poar fool ! he was in a net — sich a net as I never yet see set to ketch a roag in. CHAPTER VI THE JEWEL THE Shevalier de I'Orge, the young Frenchmin whom I -wrote of in my last, who had been rather shy of his visits while master was coming it so very strong; now came back to hie old place by the side of Lady GrriflSu : there was no love itoWj though, betwigst him and master, although the Shevalier had got his lady back agin ; Deuceace being compleatly devoted to bis crookid Veanus. The Sh«valier was a little, pale, moddist, insinifishnt creature; and I shoodn't have thought, from his appearants, would have the heart to do harm to a fli, much less to stand befor such a tremendious tiger and fire-eater as my masten But I see putty well, after ai week, from his manner of going on — of speakin at master, and lookin at him, and olding his lips tight when Deuceace came imto the roomi, and glaring at him with his i's, that he hated the Honrabble Algernon Percy. Shall I tell you why ? Because my Lady Griffin hated him ; hated him wuss than pison, or the devvle, or even wuss than her daughter-in-law. Praps you phansy that the letter you have juss red was honest ; praps you amadgin that the sean of the reading of the win came on by mere chans, and in the reglar cors of suckm- stansies : it was all a game, I tell you — a reglar trap ; and that extrodnar clever young man, my master, as neatly put his foot into it, as ever a pocher did in fesnt preserve. The Shevalier had his q from Lady Griflfin. When Deuceace went off the feald, back came De I'Orge to her feet, not a witt less tender than befor. Por fellow, por fellow ! he really loved this woman. He might as well have foln in love with a boreconstructor ! He was so blinded and beat by the power wich she had got over him, that if she told him black was white he'd beleave it, or if she ordered him to commit murder, he'd do it : she wanted something very like it, I can tell you. I've already said how, in the fust part of their acquaintance, master used to laff at De I'Orge's bad Inglish, and funny ways. The little creature had a thowsnd of these ; and being small, and a French- man, master, in cors, looked on hijn with that good-humoured kind THE AMOUES. OF ME. DEUCEACE 305 of contemp which a good Brittn ot always to show. He rayther treated him like an intelligent miMaky than a man, and ordered him about as if he'd bean my Lady's footman. All this munseer took in very good part, until after the qnarl betwigst master and Lady Griffin ; when that lady took care to turn the tables. Whenever master and miss were not present (as I've heard the servants say), she used to laff at Shevalliay for his obeajance and sivillatty to master. For her part, she wondered how a man of his birth could act a servnt : how any man could submit to such con- temsheous behaviour from another; and then she told him how Deuceace was always snearing at him behind his back ; how, in feet, he ought to hate him corjaly, and how it was suttnly time to show his sperrit. Well, the poar httle man beleaved aU this from his hart, and was angry or pleased, gentle or quarlsum, igsactly as my Lady liked. There got to be frequint rows betwigst him and master ; sharp woitds flung at each other across the dinner-table ; dispewts about handing kdies their smeling-botls, or seeing them to their carridge ; or going in and out of a roam fust, or any such nonsince. " For hevn's sake," I heerd my Lady, in the midl of one of these tiffs, say, pail, and the tears trembling in her i's, " do, do be calm, Mr. Deuceace. Monsieur de I'Orge, I beseech you to forgive him. You are, both of you, so esteemed, loVd, by members of this feflnily, that for its peace as well as your own, you should forbeasT to quarrel." It was on the way to the Sally Mangy that this branghng had begun, and it ended jest as they Were seating themselves. I shall never forgit poar little De FOrge's eyes, when my Lady said "both of you." He stair'd at my Lady for a momint, turned pail, red, look'd wild, and then, going round to master, shook his hand as if he would have wrung it off. Mr. Deuceace only bow'd and gria'd, and turned away quite stately; Miss heaved a loud from her busm, and looked up in his face with an igspreshn jest as if she could have eat him up with love ; and the little ShevaUiay sate down to his soop-plate, and wus so happy, that I'm blest if he wasn't crying ! He thoujght the widdow had made her declyration, and would have him ; and so thought Deuceace, who look'd at her for some time mighty bitter and contempshusj and then fell a^talking with MisSi Now, though master didn't choose to maicry Lady Griffin, as he might have done, he yet thought fit to be very angry at the notion of her maarrying anybody else ; and so, consquintly, was in a fewry at this confision which she haxi made regarddng her parshaieaty for the French Shevaleer. 3o6 MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH And this I've perseaved in the cors of my expearants through life, that when you vex him, a roag's no longer a roag : you find him out at onst when he's in a passion, for he shows, as it ware, his cloven foot the very instnt you tread on it. At least, this is what yovmg roags do ; it requires very cool blood and long practis to get over this pint, and not to show your pashn when you feel it and snarl when you are angry. Old Crabs wouldn't do it; being like another noblemin, of whom I heard the Duke of Wellington say, while waiting behind his graci's chair, that if you were kicking him from behind, no one standing before him would know it, from the bewtifle smiling igspreshn of his face. Young master hadn't got so far in the thief s grammar, and, when he was angry, show'd it. And it's also to be remarked (a very profownd observatin for a footmin, but we have i's though we do wear plush britchis), it's to be remarked, I say, that one of these chaps is much sooner maid angry than another, because honest men yield to other people, roags never do ; honest men love other people, roags only themselves; and the slightest thing which comes in the way of thir beloved objects sets them fewrious. Master hadn't led a life of gambling, swindling, and every kind of debotch to be good-tempered at the end of it, I prommis you. He was in a pashun, and when he was in a pashn, a more insalent, insuffrable, overbearing broot didn't live. This was the very pint to which my Lady wished to bring him ; for I must tell you, that though she had been trying all her might to set master and the Shevalliay by the years, she had suxeaded only so far as to make them hate each other profowndly : but somehow or other, the 2 cox wouldn't ^g'A*. I doan't think Deuceace ever suspected any game on the part of her Ladyship, for she carried it on so admiraUy, that the quarls which daily took place betwigst him and the Frenchman never seemed to come from her ; on the contry, she acted as the reglar pease-maker between them, as I've just shown in the tiff which took place at the door of the Sally Mangy. Besides, the 2 young men, though reddy enough to snarl, were natrally unwilling to cum to bloes. I'll tell you why : being friends, and idle, they spent their momins as young fashnabbles genrally do, at billiads, fensing, riding, pistle-shooting, or some such improoving study. In billiads, master beat the Frenchmn hollow (and had won a pretious sight of money from him : but that's neither here nor there, or, as the French say, ontry nod) ; at pistle-shooting, master could knock down eight immidges out of ten, and De I'Orge seven ; and in fensing, the Frenchman could pink the Honorable Algernon down evry one of his weskit buttns. They'd each of them been out more THE AMOUKS OF ME. DEUCEACE 307 than onst, for every Frenchman will fight, and master had been obleag'd to do so in the cors of his bisniss; and knowing each other's curridg, as well as the fact that either could put a hundrid bolls running into a hat at 30 yards, they waim't very willing to try such exparrymence upon their own hats with their own heads in them. So you see they kep quiet, and only grould at each other. But to-day Deuceace was in one of his thundering black burners ; and when in this way he wouldn't stop for man or devvle. I said that he walked away from the Shevalliay, who had given him liis hand in his sudden bust of joyfle good-humour j and who, I do bleave, would have hugd a she-bear, so very happy was he. Master walked away from him pale and hotty, and, taking his seat at table, no moor mindid the brandishments of Miss Griffin, but only replied to them with a pshaw, or a dam at one of us servnts, or abuse of the soop, or the wine ; cussing and swearing like a trooper, and not like a wel-bred son of a noble British peer. " Will your Ladyship," says he, slivering off the wing of a pully ally hoihymall, " allow me to help you % " " I thank you ! no ; but I will trouble Monsieur de I'Orge." And towards that gnimn she turned, with a most tender and fasnat- ing smile. " Your Ladyship has taken a very sudden admiration for Mr. de I'Orge's carving. You used to like mine once." " You are very skilful ; but to-day, if you wiU allow me, I will partake of something a little simpler." The Frenchman helped ; and, being so happy, in cors, spUt the gravy. A great blob of brown sos spurted on to master's chick, and myandrewd down his shert coUar and virging-white weskit. " Confound you ! " says he, " M. de I'Orge, you have done this on purpose." And down went his knife and fork, over went his tumbler of wine, a deal of it into poar Miss Grifllnses lap, who looked fritened and ready to cry. My Lady bust into a fit of laffin, peel upon peel, as if it was the best joak in the world. De I'Orge giggled and grin'd too. " Pardong," says he ; " meal pardong, mong share munseer." * And he looked as if he would have done it again for a penny. The little Frenchman was quite in extasis ; he found himself all of a suddn at the very top of the trea ; and the laff for onst turned against his rivle : he actialy had the ordassaty to propose to my Lady in English to take a glass of wine. " Veal you," says he, in his jargin, " take a glas of Madfere viz * In the long dialogues, we have generally ventured to change the peculiar spelling of our friend Mr. Yellowplush. 3o8 MEMOIRS OP MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH me, mi Ladi 1 " And he looked round, as if he'd igsackly hit the English manner and pronunciation. "With the greatest pleasure," says Lady G., most graciously nodding at him, and gazing at him as she drank up the wine. She'd refused master before, and this didn't increase his good humer. Well, they went on, master snarling, snapping, and swearing, making himself, I must confess, as much of a blaggard as any I ever see ; and my Lady employing her time betwigst him and the ShevaUiay, doing every think to irritate master, and flatter the Frenchmn. Desert came : and by this time, Miss was stock-still with fright, the Chevaleer half tipsy with pleasure and gratafied vannaty, my Lady puffickly raygent with smiles, and master bloc with rage. " Mr. Deuceace," says my Lady, in a most winning voice, after a little chaffing (in which she only worked him up moar and moar), " may I trouble you for a few of those grapes 1 they look delicious." For answer, master seas'd hold of the grayp dish, and sent it sHding down the table to De I'Oifge; upsetting, in his way, fruit- plates, glasses, dickanters, and Heaven knows what. " Monsieur de I'Orge," says he, shouting out at the top of his voice, "have the goodness to help Lady GrifiBm. She wanted my grapes long ago, and has found out they are sour ! " There was a dead paws of a moment or so. " Ah ! " says my Lady, " vous osez m'insulter, devant mes gens, dans ma propre maison — c'est par trop fort, monsieur." And up she got, and flung out of the room. Miss followed her, screeching out, " Mamma — for God's sake — Lady Griffin ! " and here the door slammed on the pair. Her Ladyship did very well to speak French. De I'Orge would not have vmderstood her else ; as it was be heard quite enough ; and as the door clikt too, in the presents of me, and Messeers Mortimer and Fitzclarence, the family footmen, he walks round to my master, and hits him a slap on the face, and says, " Prends 9a, menteur et lache ! " which means, " Take that, you liar and coward ! " — rayther strong igspreshns for one genlmn to use to another. Master staggered back and looked bewildered ; and then he gave a kind of a scream, and, then he made a run at the Frenchman, and then me and Mortimer flung ourselves upon him, whilst Fitz- clarence embraced the ShevaUiay. " A demain ! " says he, clinching his little fist, and walking away, not very sorry to git off. THE AMOIJJlS OF ME. DEUGEAOE 30$ When he was fairly down stajies, we let go of master : who swallowed a goblit of water, and then pawsing a little and pulling out his pus, he presented to Messeers Mortimer and Fitzclarence a luydor each. " I will give you. fiv« more to-morrow," says he, " if you will promise to keep this secrit." And then he walked in to the ladies. " If you knew," says he, going up to Lady Giiffln, and speaking very slow (in cors we were all at the keyhole)^ " the pain I have endured in the last minute, in consequence of the rudeness and insolence of which I have been guilty to your Ladyship, you would think my own remorse was punishment suflBcient, and would grant me pardon." My Lady bowed, and said she didn't wish for explanations. Mr. Deuceace was her daughter's guest, and not hers ; but she certainly would never demean herself by sitting again at table with him. And so saying, out she boltid again. " Oh ! Algernon ! Algernon ! " says Miss, in teers, " what is this dreadful mystery — these fearful shocking quarrels? Tell me, has anything happeiied 1 Where, where is the Chevalier ? " Master smiled and said, " Be imder no alarm, my sweetest Matilda. De I'Orge did not understand a word of the dispute ; he was too much in love for that. He is but gone away for half-an- hour, I believe ; and will return to coffee." I knew what master's game was, for if Miss had got a hinkling of the quarrel betwigst him and the Frenchman, we should have had her screeming at the " H6tel Mirabeu," and the juice and all to pay. He only stopt for a few minaits and cumfltted her, and then drove off to his Mend, Captain Bullseye, of the Eifl.es ; with whom, I spose, he talked over this unplesnt bisniss. We fownd, at our hotel, a note from De I'Orge, saying where his secknd was to be seen. Two mornings after there was a parrowgraf in Gallyncmny's Messinger, which I hear beg leaf to transcribe : — "Fearful dud. — Yesterday morning, at six o'clock, a meeting took place, in the Bois de Boulogne, between the Hon. A. P. D — ce-ce, a younger son of the Earl of Cr-bs, and the Chevalier de rO . The chevaher was attended by Major de M , of the Eoyal Guard, and the Hon. Mr. D r by Captain B-Us-ye, of the British Eifle Corps. As far as we have been able to learn the particulars of this deplorable affair, the dispute originated in the house of a lovely lady (one of the most brilliant ornaments of our embassy), and the duel took place on the morning ensuing. " The chevalier (the challenged party, and the most accomplished amateur swordsman in Paris) waived his right of choosing the weapons, and the combat took place with pistols. jio MEMOIRS OF ME. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH " The combatants were placed at forty paces, with directions to advance to a barrier which separated them only eight paces. Each was furnished with two pistols. Monsieur de TO fired almost immediately, and the ball took effect in the left wrist of his anta- gonist, who dropped the pistol which he held in that hand. He fired, however, directly with his right, and the chevalier fell to the ground, we fear mortally wounded. A ball has entered above his hip-joint, and there is very little hope that he can recover. "We have heard that the cause of this desperate duel was a blow which the chevalier ventured to give to the Hon Mr. D. If so, there is some reason for the unusual and determined manner in which the duel was fought. " Mr. Deu — a-e returned to his hotel ; whither his excellent father, the Eight Hon. Earl of Cr-bs, immediately hastened on hearing of the sad news, and is now bestowing on his son the most affectionate parental attention. The news only reached his Lordship yesterday at noon, while at breakfast with his Excellency Lord Bobtail, our Ambassador. The noble earl fainted on receiving the intelligence ; but in spite of the shock to his own nerves and health, persisted in passing last night by the couch of his son." And so he did. "This is a sad business, Charles," says my Lord to me, after seeing his son, and settling himself down in our salong. " Have you any segars in the house 1 And, hark ye, send me up a bottle of wine and some luncheon. I can certainly not leave the neighbourhood of my dear boy." CHAPTER VII THE CONSQUINSIES THE Shevalliay did not die, for the ball came out of its own accord, ia the midst of a violent fever and inflamayshn which was brot on by the wound. He was kept in bed for 6 weeks though, and did not recover for a long time after. As for master, his lot, I'm sorry to say, was wuss than that of his advisary. Inflammation came on too ; and, to make an ugly story short, they were obliged to take off his hand at the rist. He bore it, in cors, Uke a Trojin, and in a month he too was weU, and his wound heel'd ; but I never see a man look so like a dewle as he used sometimes, when he looked down at the stump ! To be sure, in Miss GriflGinses eyes, this only indeerd him the mor. She sent twenty noats a day to ask for him, calling him her beloved, her unfortunat, her hero, her wictim, and I dono what. I've kep some of the noats as I tell you, and curiously sentimentle they are, beating the sorrows of MacWhirter all to nothing. Old Crabs used to come offen, and consimied a power of wine and seagars at our house. I bleave he was at Paris because there was an exycution in his own house in England ; and his son was a sure find (as they say) during his Olness, and couldn't deny himself to the old genlmn. His eveninx my Lord spent reglar at Lady Griffin's ; where, as master was ill, I didn't go any more now, and where the ShevaJier wasn't there to disturb him. " You see how that woman hates you, Deuceace," says my Lord, one day, in a fit of cander, after they had been talking about Lady Griffin : " she has not done with you yet, I tell you fairly." " Curse her," says master, in a fury, lifting up his maim'd arm — " curse her ! but I will be even with her one day. I am sure of Matilda : I took care to put that beyond the reach of a failure. The girl must marry me, for her own sake." " For her own sake 1 ho ! Good, good ! " My Lord lifted his i's, and said gravely, " I understand, my dear boy : it is an excellent plan." "WeU," says master, grinning fearcely and knowingly at his Ji2 MEMOIES OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH exlent old father, ''as the girl is safe, what harm can I fear from the fiend of a stepmother 1 " My Lord only gev a long whizzle, and, soon after, taking up his hat, walked off. I saw him sawnter down the Plas Vandome, and go in quite calmly to the old door of Lady Griffinses hotel. Bless his old face ! such a puffickly good-natured, kind-hearted, merry, selfish old scoundrel, I never shall see again. His Lordship was quite right in saying to master that " Lady Giifiin hadn't done with him^" No moar she had. But she never would have thought of the nex game she was going to play, if some- body hadn't put her up to it. Who did 1 If you red the above passidge, and saw how a venrabble old genlmn took his hat, and sauntered down the Plas Vandome (looking hard and kind at all the nussary-maids — bims they call them in France — in the way), I leave you to guess who was the author of the nex scheam : a woman, suttnly, never would have pitcht on it. In the fuss payper which I wrote concerning Mr. Deuceace's ad- venters, and his kind behayviour to Messrs. Dawkins and Blewitt, I had the honour of laying before the public a skidewl of my master's detts, in witch was the following itim — "Bills of xchange and I.O.U.'s, £4963, Os. Od." The I.O.U.se were trifling, saying a thowsnd pound. The bills amonntid to four thowsnd moar. Now, the lor is in France, that if a genlmn gives these in England, and a French genlmn gits them in any way, he can pursew the Englishman who has drawn them, even though he should be in France. Master did not know this fact — ^labouring under a very common mistak, that, when oust out of England, he might wissle at all the debts he left behind him. My Lady Grifiin sent over to her sUssators in London, who made arrangemints with the persons who possest the fine collection of ortografs on.stampt paper which master had left behind him; and they were glad enufi" to take any oppertunity of getting back their money. One ^ine morning, as I was looking about in the courtyard of our hotel, talking to the servant-gais, as was my reglar custom, in order to improve myself in the French languidge, one of them comes up to me and says, " Tenez, Monsieur Charles, down below in the office there is a bailiff, with a couple of gendarmes, who is asking fijr your master — a^-t-il des dettes par hasard ? " I was struck all of a heap — the truth flasht on my mind's hi. " Toinette," says I, for that was the gal's name — " Toinette," says THE AMOUES OF MR. DEUCEACE 313 I, giving her a kiss, " keep them for two minnits, as you valyou my affeckshun ; " and then I gave her another kiss, and ran up stares to our chambers. Master had now pretty well recovered of his wound, and was aloud to drive abowt : it was lucky for him that he had the strength to move. "Sir, sir," says I, "the bailiffs are after you, and you must run for your life." "Bailiffs?" says he: "nonsense! I don't, thank Heaven, owe a shilling to any man." " Stuff, sir," says I, forgetting my respeck ; " don't you owe money in England ? I tell you the baiUflfs are here, and will be on you in a moment." As I spoke, cling cling, ling ling, goes the bell of the anty- shamber, and there they were sure enough ! What was to be done 1 Quick as litening, I throws off my livry coat, claps my goold lace hat on master's head, and makes him put on my livry. Then I wraps myself up in his dressing-gown, and lolhng down on the sofa, bids him open the dor. There they were — the bailiff — two jondarms with him — Toin- ette, and an old waiter. When Toinette sees master, she smiles, and says : " Dis done, Charles ! oil est done ton maltre 1 Chez lui, n'est-ce pas ? C'est le jeune homme k monsieur," says she, curtsying to the ba.iliif. The old waiter was just argoing to blurt out, "Mais ce n'est pas ! " when Toinette stops him, and says, " Laissez done passer ces messieurs, vieux bgte ; " and in they walk, the 2 jon d'arms taking th-jir post in the hall. Master throws open the salong doar very gravely, and touching my hat says, " Have you any orders about the cab, sir 1 " " Why, no, Chawls," says I ; " I shan't drive out to-day." The old bailiff grinned, for he understood English (having had plenty of English customers), and says in French, as master goes out, " I think, sir, you had better let your servant get a coach, for I am under the painful necessity of arresting you, au nom de la loi, for the sum of ninety-eight thousand seven hundred francs, owed by you to the Sieur Jacques Fran§ois Lebrun, of Paris ; " and he puUs out a number of bills, with master's acceptances on them sure enough. " Take a chair, sir," says I ; and down he sits ; and I began to chaff him, as well as I could, about the weather, my illness, my sad axdent, having lost one of my hands, which was stuck into my busum, and so on. At last after a minnit or two, I could contane no longer, and bust out in a horse laflf. 7'he old fellow turned quite pail, and began to suspect som^- 314 MEMOIES OP ME. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH think. " Hola ! " says he ; " gendarmes ! k moi ! k moi ! Je suis flou^, void," which means, in English, that he was reglar sold. The jondarmes jumped into the room, and so did Toinette and the waiter. Grasefly rising from my arm-chare, I took my hand from my dressing-gownd, and, flinging it open, stuck up on the chair one of the neatest legs ever seen. I then pin ted myjestickly — to wJiat do you think? — to my plush TiTES ! these sellabrated inigspressables which have rendered me famous in Yourope. Taking the hint, the jondarmes and the servnts rord out laffing ; and so did Charles Yellowplush, Esquire, I can tell you. Old Grippard the bailiff looked as if he would faint in his chare, I heard a kab galloping like mad out of the hotel-gate, and knew then that my master was safe. CHAPTER VIII THE END OF MR. DEUCEa'CE'S HISTORY— LIMBO MY tail is droring rabidly to a close : my suwice with Mr. Deuceace didn't continyou very long after the last chapter, in which I described my admiral strattyjam, and my singlar self-devocean. There's very few servnts, I can tell you, who'd have thought of such a contrivance, and very few moar would have egg- sycuted it when thought of. But, after all, beyond the trifling advantich to myself in selhng master's roab de sham, which you, gentle reader, may remember I woar, and in dixcoveriiig a fipun note in one of the pockets, — beyond this, I say, there was to poar master very little advantich in what had been done. It's true he had escaped. Very good. But Frans is not like Great Brittin ; a man in a livry coat, with 1 arm, is pretty easly known, and caught, too, as I can tell you. Such was the case with master. He coodn leave Paris, moar- over, if he would. What was to become, in that case, of his bride — his unchbacked hairis ? He knew that young lady's temprimong (as the Parishers say) too well to let her long out of his site. She had nine thousand a yer. She'd been in love a duzn times befor, and mite be agin. The Honrabble Algernon Deuceace was a little too wide awake to trust much to the constnsy of so very inflammable a young creacher. Heavn bless us, it was a marycle she wasn't earUer married ! I do bleave (from suttn scans that past betwigst us) that she'd have married me, if she hadn't been sejuiced by the supearor rank and indianuity of the genlmn in whose survace I was. Well, to use a commin igspreshn, the beaks were after hiin. How was he to manitch 'i He coodn get away from his debts, and he wooden quit the fare objict of his affeckshns. He was ableejd, then, as the French say, to lie perdew, — going out at night, like a howl out of a hivy-bush, and returning in the daytime to his roast For its a maxum in France (and I wood it were followed in Ingland), that after dark no man is Kble for his detts ; and in any of the Koyal gardens— the Twillaries, the Pally Roil, or the Lucksimbug, for example — a man may wander from sunrise to evening, and hear nothing of the ojus dunns : they ain't admitted into these places of 3i6 MEMOIES OF MK. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH public enjyment and rondyvoo any more than dogs ; the centuries at the garden-gate having orders to shuit all such. Master, then, was in this uncomfrable situation — neither liking to go nor to stay ! peeping out at nights to have an interview with his miss ; ableagd to shuffle off her repeated questions as to the reason of all this disgeise, and to talk of his two thowsnd a year jest as if he had it and didn't owe a shilling in the world. Of course, now, he began to grow mighty eager for the marritch. He roat as many noats as she had done befor ; swoar against delay and cerymony ; talked of the pleasures of Hyming, the ardship that the ardor of two arts should be allowed to igspire, the folly of waiting for the consent of Lady G-rififin. She was but a step-mother, and an unkind one. Miss was (he said) a major, might marry whom she liked ; and suttnly had paid Lady G. quite as much attention as she ought, by paying her the compliment to ask her at all. And so they went on. The curious thing was, that when master was pressed about his cause for not coming out till night-time, he was misterus ; and Miss Griffin, when asked why she wooden marry, igsprest, or rather, didn't igspress, a simlar secrasy. Wasn't it hard? the cup seemed to be at the lip of both of 'em, and yet somehow, they could not manitch to take a drink. But one morning, in reply to a most desprat epistol wrote by my master over night, Deuceace, delighted, gits an answer from his soal's beluffd, which ran thus : — ■ Miss Griffin to the Hon. A. P. Deuceace. "Dearest, — You say you would share a cottage with me; there is no need, luckily, for that ! You plead the sad sinking of your spirits at our delayed union. Beloved, do you think my heart rejoices at our separation? You bid me disregard the refusal of Lady Griffin, and tell me that I owe her no further duty. " Adored Algernon ! I can refuse you no more. I was willing not to lose a single chance of reconciliation with this unnatural step-mother. Eespect for the memory of my sainted father bid me do all in my power to gain her consent to my union with you ; nay, shall I own it ? prudence dictated the measure ; for to whom should she leave the share, of money accorded to her by my father's wiU but to my father's child ? " But there are bounds beyond which no forbearance can go ; and, thank Heaven, we have no need of looking to Lady Griffin for sordid wealth : we have a competency without her. Is it not so, dearest Algernon? " Be it as you wish then, dearest, bravest, and best. Your poor THE AMOUKS OF ME. DEUUEAOE 317 Matilda has yielded to you her heart long ago ; she has no longei need to keep back her name. Name the hour, and I mil delay no more; but seek for refuge in your arms from the contumely and insult which meet me ever here. Matilda. " P.S. — Oh, Algernon ! if you did but know what a noble part your dear father has acted throughout, in doing his best endeavours to further our plans, and to soften Lady Griffin ! It is not his fault that she is inexorable as she is. I send you a note sent by her to Lord Crabs ; we wiU laugh at it soon, n'est-ce pas ? " II "My Lord, — In reply to your demand for Miss GriflSn's hand, in favour of your son, Mr. Algernon Deuceace, I can only repeat what I before have been under the necessity of stating to you — that I do not believe a union with a person of Mr. Deuceace's character would conduce to my step-daughter's happiness, and therefore refuse my consent. I will beg you to communicate the contents of this note to Mr. Deuceace ; and implore you no more to touch upon a subject which you must be aware is deeply painful to me. — I remain your Lordship's most humble servant, L. E. Geiffin. " The Sight Hon. the Earl of Crabt." " Hang her Ladyship ! " says my master, " what care I for it ? " As for the old lord who'd been so afishous in his kindness and advice, master recknsiled that pretty weU, with thinking that his Lordship knew he was going to marry ten thousand a year, and igspected to get some share of it ; for he roat back the following letter to his father, as well as a flaming one to Miss : — "Thank you, my dear father, for your kindness in that awk- ward business. You know how painfully I am situated just now, and can pretty well guess both the causes of my disquiet. A marriage with my beloved Matilda will make me the happiest of men. The dear girl consents, and laughs at the foolish pretensions of her mother-in-law. To tell you the truth, I wonder she yielded to them so long. Carry your kindness a step further, and find for us a parson, a licence, and make us two into one. We are both major, you know ; so that the ceremony of a guardian's consent is unnecessary.^ — Your affectionate, Algeenon Deuceace." " How I regret that difference between us some time back ! Matters are changed now, and shall be more still after the marriage." 318 MEMOIRS OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH I knew what my master meant, — that he would give the old lord the money after he was married : and as it was probble that miss would see the letter he roat, he made it such as not to let her see two clearly into his present uncomfrable situation. I took this letter along with the tender one for Miss, reading both of 'em, in course, by the way. Miss, on getting hers, gave an inegspressable look with the white of her i's, kist the letter, and prest it to her busm. Lord Crabs read his quite calm, and then they fell a-talking together; and told me to wait awhUe, and I should git an anser. After a deal of counseltation, my Lord brought out a card, and there was simply written on it, " Carry that back to your master, Chawls," says he, " and bid him not to fail." You may be sure I stept back to him pretty quick, and gave him the card and the messinge. Master looked sattasfied with both ; but suttnly not over happy ; no man is the day before his marridge ; much more his marridge with a humpback, Harriss though she be. Well, as he was a-going to depart this bachelor life, he did what every man in such suckmstances ought to do : he made his will, — • that is, he made a dispasition of his property, and wrote letters to his creditors telling them of his lucky chance : and that after his marridge he would sutanly pay them every stiver. Before, they must know his powaty well enough to be sure that paymint was out of the question. To do him justas, he seam'd to be inclined to do the thing that was right, now that it didn't put him to any inkinvenients to do so. " Chawls," says he, handing me over a tenpun-note, " here's your wagis, and thank you for getting me out of the scrape with the bailiffs : when we are married, you shaU be my valet out of liv'ry, and I'U treble your salary." His valHt ! praps his butler ! Yes, thought I, here's a chance — a vaUit to ten thousand a year. Nothing to do but to shave him, and read his notes, and let my whiskers grow; to dress in spick and span black, and a clean shut per day; muflSngs every night in the housekeeper's room ; the pick of the gals in the servants' hall ; a chap to clean my boots for me, and my master's opera bone reglar once a week. / knew what a vallit was as well as any genlmn in service ; and this I can tell you, he's genraUy a hapier, THE AMOUES OF MR DEUCEACB 319 idler, handsomer, mor genlmnly man than his master. He has more money to spend, for genlmn will leave their silver in their- waistcoat pockets ; more siixess among the gals ; as good dinners, and as good wine — that is, if he's friends with the butler : and friends in corse they will be if they know which way their interest lies. But these are only cassels in the air, what the French call shutter d'EspoMg. It wasn't roat in the book of fate that I was to be Mr. Deuceace's vaUit. Days wDl pass at last — even days before a wedding (the longist and unpleasantist day in the whole of a man's life, I can tell you, excep, may be, the day before his hanging) ; and at length Aroarer dawned on the suspicious morning which was to unite in the bonds of Hyming the Honrable Algernon Percy Deuceace, Exquire, and Miss Matilda Griffin. My master's wardrobe wasn't so rich as it had been ; for he'd left the whole of his nicknax and trumpry of dressing-cases and rob dy shams, his bewtifle museum of varnished boots, his curous coUeckshn of Stulz and Staub coats, when he had been ableaged to quit so sudnly our pore dear lodginx at the H6tel Mirabew ; and being incog at a friend's house, ad contentid himself with ordring a coople of shoots of cloves from a common tailor, with a suffishnt quantaty of linning. Well, he put on the best of his coats — a blue ; and I thought it my duty to ask him whether he'd want his frock again : he was good-natiured and said, " Take it and be hanged to you." Half-past eleven o'clock came, and I was sent to look out at the door, if there were any suspicious charicters (a precious good nose I have to find a bailiff out I can tell you, and an i which will almost see one round a comer) ; and presently a very modest green glass-coach droave up, and in master stept. I didn't, in corse, appear on the box ; because, being known, my appearints might have compromised master. But I took a short cut, and walked as quick as posbil down to the Rue de Foburg St. Honord, where his exhisy the English ambasdor lives, and where marridges are always performed betwigst English folk at Paris. There is, almost nex door to the ambasdor's hotel, another hotel, of that, lo kind which the French call cabbyrays, or wine-houses ; and jest as master's green glass-coach pulled up, another coach drove off, out of which came two ladies, whom I knew pretty well, — suffiz, that one had a humpback, and the ingenious reader will know why $he came there ; the other was poor Miss Kicksey, who came to see her turned off. Well, master's glass-coach droav up, jest as I got within a few 320 MEMOIKS OF MS. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH yards of the door ; our carridge, I say, droav up, and stopt. Down gits coachmin to open the door, and comes I to give Mr. Deuceace an arm, when — out of the cabaray shoot four fellows, and draw up betwigst the coach and embassy doar ; two other chaps go to the other doar of the carridge, and, opening it, one says—" Kendez-vous, Monsieur Deuceace ! Je vous arr§te au nom de la loi ! " (which means, "Get out of that, Mr. D.; you are nabbed, and no mistake"). Master turned gashly paU, and sprung to the other side of the coach, as if a serpint had stung him. He flung open the door, and was for making oif that way ; but he saw the four chaps standing betwigst libbarty and him. He slams down the front window, and screams out, "Fouettez, cocher!" (which means, "Go it, coachmin!") in a despert loud voice ; but coachmin wooden go it, and besides was off his box. The long and short of the matter was, that jest as I came up to the door two of the bums jumped into the carridge. I saw aU ; I knew my duty, and so very momfly I got up behind. "Tiens," says one of the chaps in the street; "c'est ce dr61e qui nous a flou^ I'autre jour." I knew 'em, but was too melumcoUy to smile. "Oh irons-nous done?" says coachmin to the genlmn who had got inside. A deep woice from the intearor shouted out, in reply to the coachmin, " A Sainte Pelagie ! " And now, praps, I ot to dixcribe to you the humours of the prizn of Sainte Pelagie, which is the French for Fleat, or Queen's Bentch : but on this subject I'm rather shy of writ- ing, partly because the admiral Boz has, in the history of Mr. Pickwick, made such a dixcripshun of a prizn, that mine wooden read very amyousingly afterwids ; and, also, because, to teU you the truth, I didn't stay long in it, being not in a humer to waist my igsistance by passing away the ears of my youth in such a dull place. My fust errint now was, as you may phansy, to carry a noat from master to his destined hride. The poar thing was sadly taken aback, as I can tell you, when she found, after remaining two hours at the Embassy, that her husband didn't make his appearance. And so, after staying on and on, and yet seeing no husband, she was forsed at last to trudge dishconsht home, where I was already waiting for her with a letter from my master. There was no use now denying the fact of his arrest, and so he confest it at onst ; but he made a cock-and-bull story of treachery of a friend, infimous fodgery, and Heaven knows what. However, it THE AMOURS OP MR. DEUCEAOE 321 didn't matter much ; if he had told her that he had been betrayed by the man in the moon, she would have bleavd him. Lady Griffin never used to appear now at any of my visits. She kep one drawing-room, and Miss dined and lived alone in another ; they quarld so much that praps it was best they should live apart ; only my Lord Crabs used to see both, comforting each with that winning and innsnt way he had. He came in as Miss, in tears, was lisning to my account of master's seazure, and hoping that the prisn wasn't a horrid place, with a nasty horrid dunjeon, and a dreadfle jailer, and nasty horrid bread and water. Law bless us ! she had borrod her ideers from the novvles she had been reading ! " my Lord, my Lord," says she, " have you heard this fatal story r' " Dearest MatUda, what t For Heaven's sake, you alarm me ! What — yes — no — is it — no, it can't be ! Speak ! " says my Lord, seizing me by the choler of my coat. " What has happened to my boy ? " " Please you, my Lord," says I, " he's at this moment in prisn, no wuss, — having been incarserated about two hours ago." " In prison ! Algernon in prison ! 'tis impossible ! Imprisoned, for what sum ? Mention it, and I will pay to the utmost farthing in my power." " I'm sure your Lordship is very kind," says I (recklecting the sean betwixgst him and master, whom he wanted to diddil out of a thowsand lb.) ; " and you'H be happy to hear he's only in for a trifle. Five thousand pound is, I think, pretty near the mark." " Five thousand pounds ! — confusion ! " says my Lord, clasping his hands, and looking up to heaven, " and I have not flive hundred ! Dearest Matilda, how shall we help him 1 " " Alas, my Lord, I have but three guineas, and you know how Lady Griifin has the " " Yes, my sweet child, I know what you would say ; but be of good cheer — Algernon, you know, has ample funds of his own." Thinking my Lord meant Dawkins's five thousand, of which, to be sure, a good lump was left, I held my tung ; but I cooden help wondering at Lord Crabs' igstream compashn for his son, and Miss, with her £10,000 a year, having only 3 guineas in her pockit. I took home (bless us, what a home !) a long and very inflamble letter from Miss, in which she disscribed her own sorror at the dis appointment ; swoar she lov'd him only the moar for his misfortns ; made light of them ; as a pusson for a paltry sum of five thousand pound ought never to be cast down, 'specially as he had a certain independence in view ; and vowed that nothing, nothing should ever injuice her to part from him, etsettler, etsettler, 3 X 322 MEMOIES OP MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH I told master of the conversation which had passed betwigst me and my Lord, and of his handsome offers, and his horrow at hearing of his son's being taken ; and likewise mentioned how strange it was that Miss should only have 3 guineas, and with such a fortn : bless us, I should have thot that she would always have carried a hundred thowsnd lb. in her pockit ! At this master only said Pshaw ! But the rest of the story about his father seemed to dixquiet him a good deal, and he made me repeat it over agin. He walked up and down the room agytated, and it seam'd as if a new lite was breaking in upon him. " Ohawls," says he, " did you observe — did Miss — did my father seem particularly intimate with Miss Griffin % " "How do you mean, sir?" says I. " Did Lord Crabs appear very fond of Miss Griffin ? " " He was suttnly very kind to her." "Come, sir, speak at once: did Miss Griffin seem very fond of his Lordship ? " " Why, to tell the truth, sir, I must say she seemed very fond of him." "What did he caU her?" " He called her his dearest gal." "Did he take her hand?" " Yes, and he " "And he what?" "He kist her, and told her not to be so wery down-hearted about the mjsfortn which had hapnd to you." " I have it now ! " says he, clinching his fist, and growing gashly pail — " I have it now — the infernal old hoary scoundrel ! the wicked unnatural wretch ! He would take her from me ! " And he poured out a volley of oaves which are impossbill to be repeatid here. . I thot as much long ago : and when my Lord kem with his vizits so pretious affeckshnt at my Lady Griffinses, I expected some such game was in the wind. Indeed, I'd heard a somethink of it from the Griffinses servnts, that my Lord was mighty tender with the ladies. One thing, however, was evident to a man of his intleckshal capassaties : he must either marry the gal at oust, or he stood very small chance of having her. He must get out of limbo immediantly, or his respectid father might be stepping into his vaykint shoes. Oh ! he saw it all now — the fust attempt at arest, the marridge fixt at 12 o'clock, and the baylifFs fixt to come, and intarup the marridge !^the jewel, praps, betwigst him and De I'Orge : but no, THE AMOURS OF MR. DElTOEAOE 34J it was the woman who did that — a man don't deal such fowl blows, igspecially a father to his son : a woman may, poar thing ! — she's no other means of reventch, and is used to fight with underhand wepns all her life through. Well, whatever the pint might be, this Deuceace saw pretty clear that he'd been beat by his father at his own game — a trapp set for him onst, which had been defitted by my presnts of mind — another trap set afterwids, in which my Lord had been suxesfle. Now, my Lord, roag as he was, was much too good-natured to do an unkind ackshn, mearly for the sake of doing it. He'd got to that pich that he didn't mind injaries — they were all fair play to him — -he gave 'em and reseav'd them, without a thought of mallis. If he wanted to injer his son, it was to beneflck himself. And how was this to be done 1 By getting the hairiss to himself, to be sure. The Honrabble Mr. D. didn't say so ; but I knew his feelinx well enough — he regretted that he had not given the old genlmn the money he askt for. Poar fello ! he thought he had hit it ; but he was wide of the mark after all- Well, but what was to be donel It was clear that he must marry the gal at any rate — cootky coot, as the French say : that is, marry her, and hang the igspence. To do so he must first git out of prisn — to get out of prisn he must pay his debts — and to pay his debts, he must give every shilling he was worth. Never mind : four thousand pound is a small stake to a reglar gambler, igspecially when he must play it, or rot for life in prisn ; and when, if he plays it well, it will give him ten thousand a year. So, seeing there was no help for it, he maid up his mind, and accordingly wrote the foUying letter to Miss Grilfin : — " My Adored Matilda, — Your letter has indeed been a com- fort to a poor fellow, who had hoped that this night would have * been the most blessed in his life, and now finds himself condemned to spend it within a prison wall ! You know the accursed con- spiracy which has brought these liabilities upon me, and the foolish friendship which has cost me so much. But what matters ! We have, as you say, enough, even though I must pay this shameful demand upon me ; and five thousand pounds are as nothing, com- pared to the happiness which I lose in being separated a night from thee ! Courage, however ! If I make a sacrifice it is for you ; and I were heartless indeed if I allowed my own losses to balance for a moment against your happiness. "Is it not so, beloved one % Is not your happiness bound up 324 MEMOIRS OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH with mine, in a union with me ? I am proud to think so — proud, too, to offer such a humble proof iis this of the depth and purity of my affection. " Tell me that you will stUl be mine ; tell me that you will be mine to-morrow ; and to-morrow these vile chains shall be removed, and I will be free once more — or if bound, only bound to you ! My adorable Matilda ! my betrothed bride ! write to me ere the evening closes, for I shall never be able to shut my eyes in slumber upon my prison couch, until they have been first blessed by the sight or a few words from thee ! Write to me, love ! write to me ! I languish for the reply which is to make or mar me for ever. — ^Your affectionate, A. P. D." Having polisht off this epistol, master intrustid it to me to carry, and bade me at the same time to try and give it into Miss Griffin's hand alone. I ran with it to Lady Griffinses. I found Miss, as I desired, in a sollatary condition ; and I presented her with master's pafewmed BUly. She read it, and the number of size to which she gave vint, and the tears which she shed, beggar digscription. She wep and sighed until I thought she would bust. She even claspt my hand in her's, and said, " Charles ! is he very, very miserable ? " " He is, ma'am," says I ; " very miserable indeed — nobody, upon my honour, could be miserablerer." On hearing this pethetic remark, her mind was made up at onst : and sitting down to her eskrewtaw, slie immediantly ableaged master with an answer. Here it is in black and white : — " My prisoned bird shall pine no more, but fly home to its nest in these arms ! Adored Algernon, I will meet thee to-morrow, at the same place, at the same hour. Then, then it will be impossible for aught but death to divide us. M. G." This kind of flumry style comes, you see, of reading novvles^ and cultivating littery purshuits in a small way. How much better is it to be puffiekly ignorant of the hart of writing, and to trust to the writing of the heart. This is my style : artyfiz I despise, and trust compleatly to natur : but revnong a no mootong, as our conti- nential fiiends remark : to that nice white sheep, Algernon Percy Deuceace, Exquire ; that wenrabble old ram, my Lord Crabs his father; and that tender and dellygit young lamb. Miss Matilda Griffin. She had just foalded up into its proper triangular shape the noat transcribed abuff, and I was just on the point of saying. THE AMOUES OP MK. DEUCEAOE 325 according to my master's orders, " Miss, if you please, the Honrabble Mr. Deuceace would be very much ableaged to you to keep the seminary which is to take place to-morrow a profound se ," when my master's father entered, and I fell back to the door. Miss, without a word, rusht into his arms, burst into teers agin, as was her reglar way (it must be confest she was of a very mist con- stitution), and showing to him his son's note, cried, "Look, my dear Lord, how nobly your Algernon, owr Algernon, writes to me. Who can doubt, after this, of the purity of his matchless affection r' My Lord took the letter, read it, seamed a good deal amyoused, and returning it to its owner, said, very much to my surprise, " My dear Miss Griffin, he certainly does seem in earnest ; and if you choose to make this match without the consent of your mother-in-law, you know the consequences, and are of course your own mistress." " Consequences ! — for shame, my Lord ! A little money, more or less, what matters it to two hearts like ours 1 " "Hearts are very pretty things, my sweet young lady, but Three-per-Cents. are better." " Nay, have we not an ample income of our own, without the aid of Lady Griffin?" My Lord shrugged his shoulders. " Be it so, my love," says he. " I'm sure I can have no other reason to prevent a union which is founded upon such disinterested affection." And here the conversation dropt. Miss retired, clasping her hands, and making play with the whites of her i's. My Lord began trotting up and down the room, with his fat hands stuck in his britehis pockits, his countnince lighted up with igstream joy, and singing, to my inordnit igstonishment — " See the conquering hero comes ! Tiddy diddy doll— tiddydoU, doll, doll." Pe began singing this song, and tearing up and down the room like mad. I stood amazd — a new light broke in upon me. He wasn't going, then, to make love to Miss Griffin ! Master might marry her ! Had she not got the for 1 I say, I was just standing stock still, my eyes fixt, my hands puppindicklar, my mouf wide open, and these igstrordinary thoughts passing in my mind, when my Lord having got to the last " doll " of his song, just as I came to the sillible " for " of my ventriloquism, or inward speech — ^we had eatch jest reached the pint digscribed, when the meditations of both were sudnly stopt, by my Lord, in the midst of his singin and trottin match, coming bolt up aginst poar me, sending me up aginst one end of the room, himself flying back 326 MEMOIES OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH to the other : and it was only after considrabble agitation that we were at length restored to anything like a liquUibrium. " What, you here, you infernal rascal ? " says my Lord. "Your Lordship's very kind to notus me," says I; "I am here." And I gave him a look. He saw I knew the whole game. And after whisling a bit, as was his habit when . puzzled (I bleave he'd have only whisled if he had been told he was to be hanged in five minits), after whisling a bit, he stops sudnly, and coming up to me, says — " Hearkye, Charles, this marriage must take place to-morrow.'' " Must it, sir ? " says I ; " now, for my part, I don't think " " Stop, my good fellow ; if it does not take place, what do you gain?" This stagger'd me. If it didn't take place, I only lost a situa-. tion, for master had but just enough money to pay his detts ; and it wooden soot my book to serve him in prisn or starving. "Well," says my Lord, "you see the force of my argument. Now, look here ! " and he lugs out a crisp, fluttering, snowy HUNDEED-PUN NOTE ! " If my SOU and Miss G-riffin are married to-morrow, you shall have this ; and I will, moreover, take you into my service, and give you double your present wages." Flesh and blood cooden bear it. " My Lord," says I, laying my hand upon my busm, " only give me security, and I'm yours for ever." The old noblemin grin'd, and pattid me on the shoulder. " Eight, my lad," says he, " right — you're a nice promising youth. Here is the best secm-ity." And he pulls out his pockit-book, returns the hundred-pun biU, and takes out one for fifty. " Here is half to-day ; to-morrow you shall have the remainder." My fingers trembled a httle as I took the pretty fluttering bit of paper, about five tinies as big as any sum of money I had ever had in my life. I cast my i upon the amount : it was a fifty sure enough — a bank poss-bill, made payable to Leonora Emilia Griffin,^ and indorsed by her. The cat was out of the bag. Now, gentle reader, I spose you begin to see the game. " Recollect, from this day you are in my service." " My Lord, you overpoar me with your faviours." " Go to the devil, sir," says he ; " do your duty and hold yoiu" tongue." And thus I went from the service of the Honorabble Algernon Deuceace to that of his exlnsy the Right Honorabble Earl of Crabs. On going back to prisn, I found Deuceace locked up in that oajus place to which his igstravygansies had deservedly led him ; THE AMOUKS OF ME. DEUOEACE 327 and felt for him, I must say, a great deal of contemp. A raskle such as he — a swindler, who had robbed poar Dawkins of the means of igsistance ; who had cheated his fellow-roag, Mr. Kichard Blewitt, and who was making a musnary marridge with a disgusting creacher like Miss Griffin, didn merit any compashn on my purt ; and I determined quite to keep secret the suckmstansies of my privit intervew with his exlnsy my present master. I gev him Miss Griffinses trianglar, which he read with a satasfied air. Then, turning to me, says he ; " You gave this to Miss Griffin alone 1" " Yes, sir." " You gave her my message ? " " Yes, sir." " And you are quite sure Lord Crabs was jaot there when you gave either the message on the note 1 " " Not there, upon my honour," says I. " Hang your honour, sir ! Brush my hat and coat, and go call a coach — do you hear 1 " I did as I 'was ordered; and on coming back found master in what's called, I think, the grefe of the prisn. The officer in waiting had out a great register, and was talking to master in the French tongue, in coarse ; a number of poar prisners were looking eagerly on. "Let us see, my lor," says he; "the debt is 98,700 francs; there are capture expenses, interest so much ; and the whole sum amounts to a hundred thousand francs, mains 13." Deuceace, in a very myjestic way, takes out of his pocket-book four thowsnd pun notes. " This is not French money, but I presume that you know it. Monsieur Greffier," says he. The greffier turned round to old Solomon, a money-changer, who had one or two clients in the prisn, and hapnd luckily to be there. "Les billets sont bons," says he. "Je les prendrai pour cent mille deux cents francs, et j'espfere, my lor, de vous revoir." " Good," says the greffier ; " I know them to be good, and I will give my lor the diflferenee, and make out his release." Which was done. The poar debtors gave a feeble cheer, as the great dubble iron gates swung open and clang to again, and Deuceace stept out, and me after him, to breathe the fresh hair. He had been in the place but six hours, and was now free again — ^free, and to be married to ten thousand a year nex day. But, for all that, he lookt very faint and pale. He had put down his great stake ; and when he came out of Sainte Pelagic, he had .but fifty pounds left in the world ! 328 MEMOIES OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH Never mind — when onst the money's down, make your mind easy ; and so Deuceace did. He drove back to the H6tel Mirabew, where he ordered apartmince inflnately more splendid than befor ; and I pretty soon told Toinette, and the rest of the suvvants, how nobly he behayved, and how he valyoud four thousnd pound no more than ditch water. And such was the consquincies of my praises, and the poplarity I got for us boath, that the delighted landlady immediantly charged him dubble what she would have done, if it hadn been for my stoaiies. He ordered splendid apartmince, then, for the nex week; a carridge-and-four for Fontainebleau to-morrow at 12 precisely; and having settled all these things, went quietly to the "Roshy de Cancale," where he dined ; as well he might, for it was now eight o'clock. I didn't spare the shompang neither that night, I can tell you ; for when I carried the note he gave me for Miss GrriflSn in the evening, informing her of his freedom, that young lady remarked my hagitated manner of walking and speaking, and said, " Honest Charles ! he is flusht with the events of the day. Here, Charles, is a napoleon ; take it and drink to your mistress." I pockitid it; but, I must say, I didn't like the money — it went against my stomick to take it. CHAPTER IX THE MARRIAGE WELL, the nex day came: at 12 the carridge-and-four was waiting at the ambasdor's doar ; and Miss Griffin and the faithfle Kicksey were punctial to the apintment. I don't wish to digscribe the marridge seminary — how the era- basy chapUng jined the hands of this loving young couple — how one of the embasy footmin was called in to witness the marridge — how Miss wep and fainted, as usial — and how Deuceace carried her, fainting, to the brisky, and drove off to Fontingblo, where they were to pass the flist weak of the honeymoon. They took no servnts, because they wisht, they said, to be privit. And so, when I had shut up the steps, and bid the postilion drive on, I bid ajew to the Honrabble Algernon, and went off strait to his exlent father. " Is it aU over, Chawls 1 " said he. "I saw them turned off at igsackly a quarter past 12, my Lord," says I. " Did you give Miss Griffin the paper, as I told you, before her marriage ? " " I did, my Lord, in the presents of Mr. Brown, Lord Bobtail's man ; who can swear to her having had it." I must teU you that my Lord had made me read a paper which Lady Griffin had written, and which I was comishnd to give in the manner menshnd abuff. It ran to this effect : — " According to the authority given me by the will of my lata dear husband, I forbid the marriage of Miss Griffin with the Honour- able Algernon Percy Deuceace. If Miss Griffin persists in the union, I warn her that she must abide by the consequences of her act. "Leonoea Emilia Gkiffin. "EnK DB ErvoLi: May 8, 1818." When I gave this to Miss as she entered the cortyard, a minnit before my master's arrivle, she only read it contemptiously, and said, " I laugh at the threats of Lady Griffin ; " and she toar the 330 MEMOIES OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH paper in two, and walked on, leaning on the arm of the faithful and obleaging Miss Kicksey. I picked up the paper for fear of axdents, and brot it to my Lord. Not that there was any necessaty; for he'd kep a copy, and made me and another witniss (my Lady GrifBn's solissator) read them both, before he sent either away. " Good ! " says he ; and he projuiced from his potfolio the fello of that bewchus fifty-pun note, which he'd given me yesterday. " I keep my promise, you see, Charles," says he. "You are now in Lady Griffin's service, in the place of Mr. Fitzclarence, who retires. Go to Froj^'s, and get a livery." " But, my Lord," says I, " I was not to go into Lady Griffinses service, according to the bargain, but into " " It's all the same thing," says he j and he walked off. I went to Mr. Froj^'s, and ordered a new livry ; and found, likwise, that our coachmin and Munseer Mortimer had been there too. My Lady's livery was changed, and was now of the same color as my old coat at Mr. Deuceace's; and I'm blest if there wasn't a tremenjious great earl's corronit on the butins, instid of the Griffin rampint, which was worn befoar. I asked no questions, however, but had myself measured ; and slep that night at the Plas Vandome. I didn't go out with the carridge for a day or two, though ; my Lady only taking one footmin, she said, until her new carridge was turned out. I think you can guess what's in the Wind now t I bot myself a dressing-case, a box of Ody colong, a few duzen lawn sherts and neckcloths, and other things which were necessary for a genlmn in my rank. Silk stockings was provided by the rules of the house. And I completed' the- bisniss by writing the foUying ginteel letter to my late master : — Charles Yellowplush, Esquire, to the HonourMe A. P: Deiiceace. " Sue, — Suckmstansies have acUrd sins I last had the honner of wating on you, which render it impossbil that I should remane any longer in your suvvice. I'll thank you to leave out my thinx, when, they come home on Sattady from the wash. — Your obeajnt servnt, , "Chaelbs Yellowplush. "Plas Vbitdome." The athography of the abuv noat, I confess, is atrocious ; but ke voolyvoo 1 I was only eighteen, and hadn then the expearance in writing which I've enjide sins. Having thus done my jewty in evry way, I shall prosead, in- the nex chapter, to say what hapnd in my new place. CHAPTER X THE HONEYMOON THE weak at Fontingblow past quickly away ; and at the end of it, our son and daughter-in-law — a pare of nice young tuttle-duvs — returned to their nest, at the H6tel Mirabew. I suspeck that the cock turtle-dove was preshos sick of his barging. When they arriv'd, the fust thing they found on their table was a large parsle wrapt up in silver paper, and a newspaper, and a couple of cards, tied up with a peace of white ribbing. In the parsle was a hansume piece of plum-cake, with a deal of sugar. On the cards was wrote, in Gofiick characters, Now, to tell you the truth, Mr. Yorke, I doan't beleave a single ' Hlible of this story. This lady of honner says, in the fust place, that the Princess would have talked a good deal of tumdedy : which means, I suppose, indeasnsy, if she, the lady of honner, would have let her. This is a good one ! Why, she lets everybody else talk tumdedy to their hearts' content ; she lets her fiiends lurite tumdedy, and, ajiter keeping it for a quarter of a sentry, she prints it. Why then be so squeamish about hewring a little ! And, then, there's the stoary of the two portricks. This woman has the honner to be received in the frendlyest manner by a British princess ; and what does the grateful loyal creature do? 2 picturs of the Princess's relations are hanging in her room, and the Dairy-woman swears away the poor young Princess's carrickter, by swearing they are picturs of her lovers. For shame, oh, for shame ! you slanderin backbitin dairy-woman you ! If you told all them things to your "dear old aunt," on going to dine with her, you must have had very " sweet and soothing society " indeed. I had marked out many more extrax, which I intended to write 358 MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH about ; but I think I have said enough about this Dairy : in fack, the butler, and the gals in the servants'-hall are not well pleased that I should go on reading this naughty book; so we'll have no more of it, only one passidge about PoUytics, witch is sertnly quite new : — "No one was so likely to be able to defeat Bonaparte as the Crown Prince, from the intimate knowledge he possessed of his character. Bernadotte was also instigated against Bonaparte by one who not only owed him a personal hatred, but who possessed a mind equal to his, and who gave the Crown Prince both information and advice how to act. This was no less a person than Madame de Stael. It was not, as some have asserted, that she was in love with Bernadotte; for, at the time of their intimacy, Madame de Stael was in love with Roeca. But she used her influence (which was not small) with the Crown Prince, to make him fight against Bonaparte, and to her wisdom may be attributed much of the success which accompanied his attack upon him. Bernadotte has raised the flame of liberty, which seems fortunately to blaze all around. May it liberate Europe ; and from the ashes of the laurel may olive branches spring up, and overshadow the earth ! " There's a discuvery ! that the overthrow of Boneypart is owing to Madame de Stael ! What nonsince for Colonel Southey or Doctor Napier to write histories of the war with that Capsican hupstart and murderer, when here we have the whole afiair explaned by the lady of honour ! " Swnday, April 10, 1814. — The incidents which take place every hour are miraculous. Bonaparte is deposed, but alive ; sub- dued, but allowed to choose his place of residence. The island of Elba is the spot he has selected for his ignominious retreat. France is holding forth repentant arms to her banished sovereign. The Poissardes who dragged Louis XVI. to the scaff'old are presenting flowers to the Emperor of Russia, the restorer of their legitimate king ! What a stupendous field for philosophy to expatiate in ! What an endless material for thought ! What humiliation to the pride of mere human greatness ! How are the mighty fallen ! Of all that was great in Napoleon, what remains ? Despoiled of his usurped power, he sinks to insignificance. There was no moral greatness in the man. The meteor dazzled, scorched, is put out — utterly, and for ever. But the power which rests in those who have delivered the nations from bondage, is a power that is delegated to them from Heaven ; and the manner in which they have used it is a guarantee THE DAIEY OF GEOEGE IV. 359 for its continuance. The Duke of Wellington has gained laurels un- stained by any useless ilow of blood. He has done more than conquer others — ^he has conquered himself : and in the midst of the blaze and flush of victory, surrounded by the homage of nations, he has not been betrayed into the commission of any act of cruelty or wanton ofience. He was as cool and self-possessed under the blaze and dazzle of fame as a common man would be under the shade of his garden- tree, or by the hearth of his home. But the tyrant who kept Europe in awe is now a pitiable object for scorn to point the finger of derision at : and humanity shudders as it remembers the scourge with which this man's ambition was permitted to devastate every home tie, and every heartfelt joy." And now, after this sublime passidge, as full 01 awfle reflections and pious sentyments as those of Mrs. Cole in the play, I shall only quot one little extrak more : — " All goes gloomily with the poor Princess. Lady Charlotte Campbell told me she regrets not seeing all these curious personages ; but she says, the more the Princess is forsaken, the more happy she is at having ofiered to attend her at this time. This is very ami- able in her, and cannot fail to be gratifying to the Princess." So it is — wery amiable, wery Idnd and considerate in her, indeed. Poor Princess ! how lucky you was to find a frend who loved you for your own sake, and when all the rest of the wuld turned its back kep steady to you. As for believing that Lady Sharlot had any hand in this book,* Heaven forbid ! she is all gratitude, pure grati- tude, depend upon it. She would not go for to blacken her old frend and patron's carrickter, after having been so outrageously faithful to her ; she wouldn't do it, at no price, depend upon it. How sorry she must be that others an't quite so squemish, and show up in this indesent way the follies of her kind, genrus, foolish bennyfactris ! * The ' ' authorised " announcement, in the John Bull newspaper, sets this question at rest. It is declared that her Ladyship is not the writer of the Diary.— O, Y. EPISTLES TO THE LITERATI Ch-s Y-LL-WPI/-SH, Esq., to Sie Edward Lytton Bulwer, Bt. John Thomas Smith, Esq., to C — s Y h, Esq. NOTUS THE suckmstansies of the following harticle are as foUos :— Me and my friend, the sellabrated Mr. Smith, reckonised each other in the Haymarket Theatre, during the performints of the new play. I was settn in the gallery, and sung out to him (he was in the pit), to jine us after the play, over a glass of bear and a cold hoyater, in my pantry, the famOy being out. Smith came as appinted. We descorsed on the subjick of the comady ; and, after sefral glases, we each of us agreed to write a letter to the other, giving our notiums of the pease. Paper was brought that momint; and Smith writing his harticle across the knife-bord, I dasht off mine on the dresser. Our agreement was, that I (being remarkabble for my style of riting) should cretasize the languidge, whilst he should take up with the plot of the play; and the candied reader wiU parding me for having holtered the original address of my letter, and directed it to Sir Edward himself; and for having incopperated Smith's remarks in the midst of my own : — MAirAiR : Nov. 30, 1839. Midnite. HoNEABBLE Baenet ! — Eetired from the littery world a year or moar, I didn't think anythink would injuice me to come forrards again ; for I was content with my share of reputation, and propoas'd to add nothink to those immortial wux which have rendered this Magaseen so sallybrated. Shall I teU you the reazn of my re-appearants ? — a desire for the benefick of my fellow-creatures 1 Fiddlestick ! A mighty truth with which my busm laboured, and which I must bring forth or die? Nonsince — stuff: money's the secret, my dear Bamet, — EPISTLES TO THE LITERATI 361 money — I'argong, gelt, spicunia. Here's quarter-day coming, and I'm blest if I can pay my landlud, unless I can ad hartiflcially to my inkum. This is, however, betwigst you and me. There's no need to blaeard the streets with it, or to tell the British public that Fitzroy Y-11-wpl-sh is short of money, or that the sallybrated hauthor of the Y^ — Papers is in peskewniary difficklties, or is fiteagued by his superhuman littery labors, or by his famly suckmstansies, or by any other pusnal matter : my maxim, dear B, is on these pints to be as quiet as posbile. What the juice does the public care for you or me ? Why must we always, in prefizzes and what not, be a-talking about ourselves and our igstrodnary merrats, woas, and injaries 1 It is on this subjick that I porpies, ray dear Barnet, to speak to you in a frendly way ; and praps you'll find my advise tolrabbly holesum. WeU, then, — if you care about the apinious, fur good or evil, of us poor suvvants, I tell you, in the most candied way, I like you, Barnet. I've had my fling at you in my day (for, entry nou, that last stoary I roat about you and Larnder was as big a bownsir as ever was) — I've had my fling at you ; but I like you. One may objeck to an immence deal of your writings, which, betwigst you and me, contain more sham scentiment, sham morallaty, sham poatry, than you'd like to own ; but, in spite of this, there's the stuff in you : you've a kind and loyal heart in you, Barnet — a trifle deboshed, perhaps; a kean i,. igspecially for what's comic (as for your tradgady, it's mighty flatchulent), and a ready plesnt pen. The man who says you are an As is an As himself Don't believe him, Barnet ! not that I suppose you wil, — for, if I've formed a correck apinion of you from yoxa wucks, you think your small- beear as good as most men's : every man does, — and why not ? We brew, and we love our own tap — amen ; but the pint betwigst us, is this stewpid, absudd way of crying out, because the public don't like it too. Why shood they, my dear Barnet ? You may vow that they are fools ; or that the critix are your enemies ; or that the wuld should juclge your poams by your critticle rules, and not their own : you may beat your breast, and vow you are a marter, and you won't mend the matter. Take heart, man ! you're not so misrabble after all : your spirits need not be so very cast down ; you are not so very badly paid. I'd lay a wager that you make, with one thing or another — plays, novvles, pamphlicks, and little odd jobbs here and there — your three thowsnd a year. There's many a man, dear Bullwig, that works for less, and. lives content. Why shouldn't you 1 Three thowsnd a year is no such bad thing, — ^let alone the bametcy : it must be a great comfort to have that bloody hand in your skitching. 362 MEMOIRS OF ME. O. J. YELLOWPLUSH But don't you sea, that in a wuld naturally envius, wickid, and fond of a joak, this very barnetcy, these very cumplaints, — this ceaseless groning, and moning, and wining of yours, is igsackly the thing which makes people lafF and snear more 1 If you were ever at a great school, you must recklect who w^s the boy most buUid, and buffltid, and purshewd — he who minded it most. He who could take a basting got but few ; he who rord and wep because the knotty boys called him nicknames, was nicknamed wuss and wuss. I recklect there was at our school, in Smithfield, a chap of this milksop spoony sort, who appeared among the romping, ragged fellers in a fine flanning dressing-gownd, that his mama had given him. That pore boy was beaten in a way that his dear ma and aunts didn't know him ; his fine flanning dressing-gownd was torn aU to ribbings, and he got no pease in the school ever after, but was abliged to be taken to some other saminary, where, I make no doubt, he was paid off igsactly in the same way. Do you take the halligory, my dear Bamet ? Mutayto nominy — you know what I mean. You are the boy, and your barnetcy is the dressing-gownd. You dress yourself out finer than other chaps and they all begin to sault and hustle you ; it's human nature, Barnet. You show weakness, think of your dear ma, mayhap, and begin to cry : it's all over with you ; the whole school is at you — upper boys and under, big and little ; the dirtiest little fag in the place will pipe out blaggerd names at you, and take his pewny tug at your tail. The only way to avoid such consperracies is to put a pair of stowt shoalders forrards, and bust through the crowd of raggy- muffins. A good bold fellow dubls his fistt, and cries, " Wha dares meddle wi' me?" When Scott got his barnetcy, for iustans, did any one of us cry out ? No, by the laws, he was our master ; and wo betide the chap that say neigh to him ! But there's barnets and bamets. Do you recklect that fine chapter in " Squintin Durward," about the too fellos and cups, at the siege of the bishop's castle ? One of them was a brave warrier, and kep his cup ; they strangled the other chap — strangled him, and laflfed at him too. With respeck, then, to the barnetcy pint, this is my advice : brazen it out. Us' littery men I take to be like a pack of school- boys — childish, greedy, envius, holding by our friends, and always ready to fight. What must be a man's conduck among such ? He must either take no notis, and pass on myjastick, or else turn round and pummle soundly — one, two, right and left, ding dong over the face and eyes ; above all, never acknowledge that he is hurt. Years ago, for instans (we've no ill-blood, but only mention this by way of igsample), you began a sparring with this Magaseen. Law bless - EPISTLES TO THE LITERATI 363 you, such a ridicklus gaym I never see : a man so belaybord, be- fiustered, bewoUoped, was never known ; it was the lafif of the whole town. Your intelackshal natur, respected Bamet, is not fizzickly adapted, so to speak, for encounters of this sort. You must not indulge in combats v^th us course buUies of the press : you have not the staminy for a reglar set-to. What, then, is your plan ? In the midst of the mob to pass as quiet as you can : you won't be undistubbed. Who is? Some stray kix and buffits will fall to you — ^mortial man is subjick to such ; but if you begin to wins and cry out, and set up for a marter, wo betide you ! These remarks, pusnal as I confess them to be, are yet, I assure you, written in perfick good-natur, and have been inspired by your play of the "Sea Capting," and prefiz to it; which latter is on matters intirely pusnal, and will, therefore, I trust, igscuse this kind of ad hominam (as they say) diskcushion. I propose, honrabble Bamit, to cumsider calmly this play and prephiz, and to speak of both with that honisty which, in the pantry or studdy, I've been always phamous for. Let us, in the first place, listen to the opening of the " Preface to the Fourth Edition : "— " No one can be more sensible than I am of the many faults and deficiencies to be found in this play ; but, perhaps, when it is considered how very rarely it has happened in the history of our dramatic literature that good acting plays have been produced, except by those who have either been actors themselves, or formed their habits of literature, almost of life, behind the scenes, I might have looked for a criticism more generous, and less exacting and rigorous, than that by which the attempts of an author accustomed to another class of composition have been received by a large proportion of the periodical press. "It is scarcely possible, indeed, that this play should not con- tain faults of two kinds : first, the faults of one who has necessarily much to learn in the mechanism of his art ; and, secondly, of one who, having written largely in the narrative style of fiction, may not unfrequently mistake the effects of a novel for the effects of a drama. I may add to these, perhaps, the deficiencies that arise from uncertain health and broken spirits, which render the author more susceptible than he might have been some years since to that spirit of depreciation and hostility which it has been his misfortune to excite amongst the general contributors to the periodical press ; for the consciousness that every endeavour will be made to cavil, to distort, to misrepresent, and, in fine, if possible, to nun down, will occasionally haunt even the hours of composition, to check the inspira- tion, and damp the ardour. 364 MEMOIKS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH "Having confessed thus much frankly and fairly, and with a hope that I may ultimately do better, should I continue to write for the stage (which nothing but an assurance that, with all my defects, I may yet bring some little aid to the drama, at a time when any aid, however humble, ought to be welcome to the lovers of the art, could induce me to do), may I be permitted to say a few words as to some of the objections which have been made against this play 1 " Now, my dear sir, look what a pretty number of please you put forrards here, why your play shouldn't be good. First. Good plays are almost always written by actors. Secknd. You are a novice to the style of composition. Third. You may be mistaken in your effects, being a novelist by trade, and not a play-writer. Fourthly. Your in such bad helth and sperrits. Fifthly. Your so afraid of the critix, that they damp your arder. For shame, for shame, man ! What confeshns is these, — what painful pewling and piping ! Your not a babby. I take you to be some seven or eight and thutty years old — " in the morning of youth," as the ilosofer says. Don't let any such nonsince take your reazn prisoner. What you, an old hand amongst us, — an old soljer of our sovring quean the press, — you, who have had the best pay, have held the topmost rank (ay, and deserved them too ! — I gif you lef to quot me in sasiaty, and say, " I am a man of genius : Y— 11- wpl-sh says so "), — you to lose heart, and cry pickavy, and begin to howl, because little boys fling stones at you ! Fie, man ! take courage ; and, bearing the terrows of your blood-red hand, as the poet says, punish us, if we've ofended you : punish us like a man, or bear your own punishment like a man. Don't try to come off with such misrabble lodgic as that above. What do you 1 You give four satisfackary reazns that the play is bad (the secknd is naught, — for your no such chicking at play- writing, this being the forth). You show that the play must be bad, and then begin to deal with the critix for finding folt ! Was there ever wuss generalship? The play is bad, — your right, — a wuss I never see or read. But why kneed you say so 1 If it was so very bad, why publish it 1 Because you wish to serve the dram,a ! fie ! don't lay that flattering function to your sole as Milton observes. Do you believe that this " Sea Capting " can serve the drama ? Did you never intend that it should serve any- thing, or anybody else ? Of cors you did ! You wrote it for money, — money from the maniger, money from the bookseller, — for the same reason that I write this. Sir, Shakspeare wrote for the very same EPISTLES TO THE LITEEATI 365 reasons, and I never heard that he bragged about serving the dtama. Away with this canting about great motifs ! Let us not be too prowd, my dear Bamet, and fansy ourselves marters of the truth, marters or apostels. We are but tradesmen, working for bread, and not for righteousness' sake. Let's try and work honestly ; but don't let us be pray ting pompisly about our " sacred calling." The taylor who makes your coats (and very well they are made too, with the best of velvit collars) — I say Stulze, or Nugee, might cry out that their motifs were but to assert the eturnle truth of tayloring, with just as much reazn ; and who would be- lieve them % WeUj after this acknoUitchment that the play is bad, come sefral pages of attack on the critix, and the folt those gentry have found with it. With these I shan't piddle for the presnt. You defend aU the characters 1 by 1, and conclude your remarks as follows : — " I must be pardoned for this disquisition on my own designs. When every means is employed to misrepresent, it becomes, per- haps, allowable to explain. And if I do not think that my faults as a dramatic author are to be found in the study and delineation of character, it is precisely because that is the point on which all my previous pursuits in literature and actual life would be most likely to preserve me from the errors I own elsewhere^ whether of misjudgment or inexperience. " I have now only to add my thanks to the actors for the zeal and talent with which they have embodied the characters entrusted to them. The sweetness and grace with which Miss Faucit em- bellished the imrt of Violet — which, though only a sketch, is most necessary to the colouring and harmony of the play — were perhaps the more pleasing to the audience from the generosity, rare with actors, which induced her to take a part so far inferior to her powers. The applause which attends the performance of Mrs. Warner and Mr. Strickland attests their success in characters of unusual difficulty ; while the singular beauty and nobleness, whether of conception or execution, with which the greatest of living actors has elevated the part of Norman (so totally different from his ordinary range of character), is a new proof of his versatility and accomplishment in aU that belongs to his art. It would be scarcely gracious to conclude these remarks without expressing my acknowledgment of that generous and indulgent sense of justice which, forgetting all political differences in a literary arena, has enabled me to appeal to approving audiences^ — from hostile critics. And it is this which alone encourages me to hope that, sooner or 366 MEMOIES OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH later, I may add to the dramatic literature of my country something that may And, perhaps, almost as many friends in the next age as it has been the fate of the author to find enemies in this." See, now, what a good comfrabble vanaty is ! Pepple have quarld with the di-amatic characters of your play. " No," says you; "if I am remarkabble for any think, it's for my study and delineation of character; that is presizely the pint to which my littery purshuits have led me." Have you read " Jil Blaw," my dear sir ? Have you pirouzed that exlent tragady, the " Critic " % There's something so like this in Sir Fretful Plaguy, and the Archbishop of G-ranadiers, that I'm blest if I can't laflF till my sides ake. Think of the critix fixing on the very pint for which you are famus ! — the roags ! And spose they had said the plot was absudd, or the langwitch absudder still, don't you think you would have had a word in defens of them too — you who hope to find frends for your dramatic wux in the nex age ? Poo ! I tell thee, Bamet, that the nex age wiR be wiser and better than this ; and do you think that it wiU imply itself a reading of your trajadies ? This is misan- trofy, Bamet— reglar Byronism ; and you ot to have a better apinian of human natur. Your apinion about the actors I shan't here meddle with. They all acted exlently as far as my humbile judgement goes, and your write in giving them all possible prays. But let's consider the last sentence of the prefiz, my dear Bamet, and see what a pretty set of apiniuns you lay down. 1. The critix are your inymies in this age. 2. In the nex, however, you hope to find newmrous frends. 3. And it's a satisfackshn to think that, in spite of politticle difirances, you have found frendly aujences here. Now, my dear Bamet, for a man who begins so humbly with what my friend Father Prout calls an argamantum ad misericorjam who ignowledges that his play is bad, that his pore dear helth is bad, and those cussid critix have played the juice with him — I say, for a man who beginns in such a humbill toan, it's rayther rich to see how you end. My dear Barnet, do you suppose that politticle diffrances prejudice pepple against you ? What are your poUtLx 1 Wig, I presume — so are mine, ontry noo. And what if they are Wig, or Raddiccle, or Cumsuwative ? Does any mortial mau in England care a phig for your politix ? Do you think yourself such a mity man in parlymint, that critix are to be angry with you, and aujences to be cumsidered magnanamous because they treat you fairly? There, now, was Sherridn, he who roat the " Eifles " and EPISTLES TO THE LITERATI 367 " School for Scandle " (I saw the " Rifles " after your play, and, Bamet, if you knew what a relief it was !) — there, I say, was Sherridn — he was a politticle character, if you please — he could make a spitch or two — do you spose that Pitt, PurseyvaU, Castlerag, old George the Third himself, wooden go to see the "Rivles" — ay, and clap hands too, and laff and ror, for all Sherry's Wiggery ? Do you spose the critix wouldn't applaud too 1 For shame, Barnet ! what ninnis, what hartless raskles, you must beleave them to be, — in the fust plase, to fancy that you are a politticle genus ; in the secknd, to let your politix interfear with their notiums about littery merits ! " Put that nonsince out of your head," as Fox said to Bonypart. Wasn't it that great genus, Dennis, that wrote in Swiflf and Poop's time, who fansid that the French king wooden make pease unless Dennis was delivered up to him ? Upon my wud, I doan't think he carrid his diddlusion much further than a serting honrabble bamet of my aqueutance. And then for the nex age. Respected sir, this is another diddlusion ; a gross misteak on your part, or my name is not Y sh. These plays immortial? Ah, parryswmpe, as the French say, this is too strong — the small-beer of the "Sea Cap- ting," or of any suxessor of the " Sea Capting," to keep sweet for sentries and sentries ! Bamet, Barnet ! do you know the natur of bear? Six weeks is not past, and here your last casque is sour — the public won't even now drink it ; and I lay a wager that, betwigst this day (the thuttieth November) and the end of the year, the barl will be oflf the stox altogether, never never to return. I've notted down a few frazes here and there, which you will do well to igsamin : — NORMAN. " The eternal Flora Woos to her odorous haunts the western wind ; While circling round and upwards from the boughs, Golden with fruits that lure the joyous birds, Melody, like a happy soul released, Hangs in the air, and from invisible plumes Shakes sweetness down 1 " NOEMAN. " And these the lips Where, till this hour, the sad and holy kiss Of parting linger'd, as the fragrance left By ang^li when they touch the earth and vanish." 368 MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH NOKMAN. " Hark ! she has blessed her son ! I bid ye witness, Ye listening heavens — thou circumambient air : The ocean sighs it back — and with the murmur Bustle the happy leaves. All nature breathes Aloud— aloft — -to the Great Parent's ear, The blessing of the mother on her child." NOEMAN. " I dream of love, enduring faith, a heart Mingled with mine — a deathless heritage. Which I can take unsullied to the stars, When the Great Father calls his children home." NORMAN. " The blue air, breathless in the starry peace. After long silence hushed as heaven, but filled With happy thoughts as heaven with angels. " " Till one calm night, when over earth and wave Heaven looked its love from all its numberless stwrs." NORMAN. " Those eyes, the guiding stars by which I steered." NORMAN. "That great mother (The only parent I have known), whose face Is bright with gazing ever on the stars — The mother-sea." NORMAN. t "My bark shall be our home ; The siulgihat light the aTigel palaces Of air, our ilamps. " NORMAN. " A name that glitters, like a star, amidst The galaxy of England's loftiest born. " LADY ARUNDEL. " And see hism princeliest of the lion tribe. Whose swords and coronals gleam around the throne, The guardian stars of the imperial isle. " EPISTLES TO THE LITERATI 369 The fust spissymen has been going the round of all the papers, as real reglar poatry. Those wicked critix ! they must have been laffing in their sleafs when they quoted it. Malody, suckling round and uppards from the bows, like a happy soul released, hangs in the air, and from invizable plumes shakes sweetness down. Mighty fine, truly ! but let mortial man tell the meanink of the passidge. Is it musickle sweetniss that Malody shakes down from its plumes— its wings, that is, or tail — or some pekewliar scent that proceeds from happy souls released, and which they shake down from the trees when they are suckling round and uppards ? Is this poatry, Bamet ? Lay your hand on your busm, and speak out boldly : Is it poatry, or sheer windy humbugg, that sounds a little melojous, and won't bear the commanest test of comman sence ? In passidge number 2, the same bisniss is going on, though in a more comprehensable way : the air, the leaves, the otion, are fild with emocean at Capting Norman's happiness. Pore Nature is dragged in to partisapate in his joys, just as she has been befor. Once in a poem, this universle simfithy is very well; but once is enuff, my dear Bamet; and that once should be in some great suckmstans, surely, — such as the meeting of Adam and Eve, in "Paradice Lost," or Jewpeter and Jewno, in Hoamer, where there seems, as it were, a reasn for it. But sea-captings should not be etemly spowting and invoking gods, hevns, starrs, angels, and other silestial influences. We can all do it, Bamet ; nothing in life is esier. I cam compare my livry buttons to the stars, or the clouds of my backopipe to the dark vollums that ishew from Mount Hetna; or I can say that angels are looking down from them, and the tobacco silf, like a happy sole released, is circling round and upwards, and shaking sweet- ness down. All this is as esy as drink ; but it's not poatry, Bamet, nor natural. People, when their mothers reckonise them, don't howl about the suckumambient air, and paws to think of the happy leaves ar-rustling — -at least, one mistrusts them if they do. Take another instans out of your own play. Capting Norman (with his etemU slaehjaw !) meets the gal of his art : — " Look up, look up, my Violet — weeping? fie ! And trembling too — yet leaning on my breast. In truth, thou art too soft for such rude shelter. Look up ! I come to woo thee to the seas, My sailor's bride ! Hast thou no voice but blushes ? Nay — From those roses let me, like the bee, Prag forth the secret sweetness ! " 370 MEMOIES OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH VIOLET. " Oh what thoughts Were kept for speech when we once more should meet. Now blotted from the page; and all I feel Is — thou art with me ! " Very right, Miss Violet — the scentiment is natral, afifeckshnit, pleasing, simple (it might have been in more grammaticle languidge, and no harm done) ; but never mind, the feeling is pritty ; and I can fancy, my dear Barnet, a pritty, smiling, weeping lass, looking up in a man's face and saying it. But the capting ! — oh, this capting ! — this windy spouting captain, with his prittinesses, and conseated apol- logies for the hardness of his busm, and his old, stale, vapid simalies, and his wishes to be a bee ! Pish ! Men don't make love in this finniking way. It's the part of a sentymentle, poeticle taylor, not a galliant gentleman, in command of one of Her Madjisty's vessels of war. Look at the remaining extrac, honored Barnet, and acknoUidge that Capting Norman is etumly rejjeating himself, with his endless jabber about stars and angels. Look at the neat grammaticle twist of Lady Arundel's spitch, too, who, in the corse of three lines, has made her son a prince, a lion, with a sword and coronal, and a star. Why jumble and sheak up metafors in this way? Barnet, one simily is quite enuff in the best of sentenses (and I preshume I kneedn't tell you that it's as well to have it like, when you are about it). Take my advice, honrabble sir — listen to a humble footmin : it's genrally best in poatry to understand puffickly what you mean yourself, and to igspress your meaning clearly afterwoods — in the simpler words the better, praps. You may, for instans, call a coronet a coronal (an " ancestral coronal," p. 74) if you like, as you might call a hat a "swart sombrero," "a glossy four-and- nine," "a silken helm, to storm impermeable, and lightsome as the breezy gossamer ; " but, in the long run, it's as well to call it a hat. It is a hat ; and that name is quite as poetticle as another. I think it's Playto, or els Harrystottle, who observes that what we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Confess, now, dear Barnet, don't you long to call it a Polyanthus ? I never see a play more carelessly written. In such a hurry you seem to have bean, that you have actially in some sentences forgot to put in the sence. What is this, for instance ? — " This thrice precious one Smiled to my ayes — drew being from my breast- Slept in my arms ; — the very tears I shed Above my treasures were to men and angels Alike such holy sweetness ! " EPISTLES TO THE LITERATI 371 In the name of all the angels that ever you invoked — Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, Zadkiel, Azrael — -what does this "holy sweetness" mean ? We're not spinxes to read such dark conandrums. If you knew my state sins I came upon this passidg — I've neither slep nor eton ; I've neglected my pantry ; I've been wandring from house to house with this riddl in my hand, and nobody can understand it. All Mr. Erazier's men are wild, looking gloomy at one another, and asking what this may be. All the cumtributors have been spoak to. The Doctor, who knows every languitch, has tried and giv'n up ; we've sent to Docter Pettigruel, who reads horyglifics a deal ezier than my way of spellin' — no anser. Quick ! quick with a fifth edition, honored Bamet, and set us at rest ! While your about it, please, too, to igsplain the two last lines : — " His merry bark with England's flag to crown her." See what deUexy of igspreshn, " a flag to crown her ! " " His merry bark with England's flag to crown her. Fame for my hopes, and woman in my cares," Likewise the following : — " Girl, beware, The love that triples bound the chakms it gilds Oct kuins while it shihbs." Igsplane this, men and angels ! I've tried every way ; backards, forards, and in aU sorts of trancepositions, as thus : — Or, Or, Or, Or, The love that ruins round the charms it shines. Gilds while it trifles oft ; The charm that gilds around the love it ruins. Oft trifles while it shines ; The ruins that love gilds and shines around, Oft trifles where it charms ; Love, while it charms, shines round, and ruins oft, The trifles that it gilds ; The love that trifles, gilds and ruins oft, While round the charms it shines. All which are as sensable as the fust passidge. And with this I'U alow my friend Smith, who has been silent all this time, to say a few words. He has not written near so 372 MEMOIES OF MR. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH much as me (being an infearor genus, betwigst ourselves), but he says he never had such mortial difficklty with anything as with the dixcripshn of the plott of your pease. Here his letter : — To Ch-rl-s F-tzr-y Pl-^t-g-^nr-t Y-ll-wpIr-sh, Esq., dec. dsc. 3IOthNm).,WS9. My deae and honoueed Sie, — I have the pleasure of laying before you the following description of the plot, and a few remarks upon the style of the piece called " The Sea Captain." Five-and-twenty years back, a certain Lord Arundel had a daughter, heiress of his estates and property : a poor cousin. Sir Maurice Beevor (being next in succession) ; and a page, Arthur Le Mesnil by name. The daughter took a fancy for the page, and the young persons were married unknown to his Lordship. Three days before her confinement (thinking, no doubt, that period favourable for travelling), the young couple had agreed to run away together, and had reached a chapel near on the sea/-coast from which they were to embark, when Lord Arundel abruptly put a stop to their proceedings by causing one Gaussen, a pirate, to murder the page. His daughter was carried back to Arundel House, and, in three days, gave birth to a son. Whether his Lordship knew of this birth I cannot say ; the infant, however, was never acknowledged, but carried by Sir Maurice Beevor to a priest, Onslow by name, who educated the lad and kept him for twelve years in profound ignorance of his birth. The boy went by the name of Norman. Lady Arundel meanwhile married again, again became a widow, but had a second son, who was the acknowledged heir, and called Lord Ashdale. Old Lord Arundel died, and her Ladyship became countess in her own right. When Norman was about twelve years of age, bis mother, who wished to " waft young Arthur to a distant land," had him sent on board ship. Who should the captain of the ship be but Gtaussen, who received a smart bribe from Sir Maurice Beevor to kill the lad. Accordingly, Gaussen tied him to a plank, and pitched him overboard. About thirteen years after these circumstances, Violet, an orphan niece of Lady Arundel's Second husband, came to pass a few weeks with her Ladyship. She had just come from a sea-voyage, and had been saved from a wicked Algerine by an English sea captain. This EPISTLES TO THE LITERATI 373 sea captain was no other than Norman, who had been picked up off his plank, and fell in love with, and was loved by, Miss Violet. A short time after Violet's arrival at her aunt's the captain came to pay her a visit, his ship anchoring off the coast, near Lady Arundel's residence. By a singular coincidence, that rogue Gaussen's ship anchored in the harbour too. Gaussen at once knew his man, for he had " tracked " him (after drowning him), and he informed Sir Maurice Beevor that young Norman was alive. Sir Maurice Beevor informed her Ladyship. How should she get rid of him 1 In this wise. He was in love with Violet, let him marry her and be off ; for Lord Ashdale was in love with his cousin too ; and, of course, could not marry a young woman in her station of life. "You have a chaplain on board," says her Ladyship to Captain Norman; "let him attend to-night in the ruined chapel, marry Violet, and away with you to sea." By this means she hoped to be quit of him for ever. But unfortunately the conversation had been overheard by Beevor, and reported to Ashdale. Ashdale determined to be at the chapel and carry off Violet ; as for Beevor, he sent Gaussen to the chapel to kill both Ashdale and Norman : thus there would only be Lady Arundel between him and the title. Norman, in the meanwhile, who had been walking near the chapel, had just seen his worthy old friend, the priest, most barbar- ously murdered there. Sir Maurice Beevor had set Gaussen upon him ; his reverence was coming with the papers concerning Norman's birth, which Beevor wanted in order to extort money from the Countess. Gaussen, was, however, obliged to run before he got the papers ; and the clergyman had time, before he died, to tell Norman the story, and give him the documents, with which Norman sped off to the castle to have an interview with his mother. He lays his white cloak and hat on the table, and begs to be left alone with her Ladyship. Lord Ashdale, who is in the room, surlily quits it ; but, going out, cunningly puts on Norman's cloak. " It wiU be dark," says he, " down at the chapel ; Violet won't know me ; and, egad ! I'U run off with her." Norman has his interview. Her Ladyship acknowledges him, for she cannot help it; but will not embrace him, love him, or have anything to do vrith him. Away he goes to the chapel. His chaplain was there waiting to marry him to Violet, his boat was there to carry him on board his ship, and Violet was there, too. "Norman," says she, in the dark, "dear Norman, I knew you by your white cloak; here I am." And she and the man in a eloak go off to the inner chapel to be married. 374 MEMOIRS OF MR. 0. J. YELLOWPLUSH There waits Master Gaussen; he has seized the chaplain and the boat's crew, and is just about to murder the man in the cloak, when — Norman rushes in and cuts him down, much to the sur- prise of Miss, for she never suspected it was sly Ashdale who had come, as we have seen, disguised, and very nearly paid for his masquerading. Ashdale is very grateful ; but, when Norman persists in marry- ing Violet, he says — no, he shan't. He shall fight ; he is a coward if he doesn't fight. Norman flings down his sword, and says he wovJt fight ; and — Lady Arundel, who has been at prayers all this time, rushing in, says, " Hold ! this is your brother, Percy — your elder brother ! " Here is some restiveness on Ashdale's part, but he finishes by embracing his brother. Norman burns all the papers ; vows he will never peach ; re- conciles himself with his mother; says he wiU. go loser; but, having ordered his ship to "veer" round to' the' chapel, orders it to veer back again, for he will pass the honeymoon at Arundel Castle. As you have been pleased to ask my opinion, it strikes me that there are one or two very good notions in this plot. But the author does not fail, as he would modestly have us believe, fi-om ignorance of stage business ; he seems to know too much, rather than too little, about the stage ; to be too anxious to cram in effects, incidents, perplexities. There is the perplexity concerning Ashdale's murder, and Norman's murder, and the priest's murder, and the page's murder, and Gaussen's murder. There is the perplexity about the papers, and that about the hat and cloak (a siUy foolish obstacle), which only tantalise the spectator, and retard the march of the drama's action : it is as if the author had said, " I must have a new incident in every act, I must keep tickling the spectator perpetually, and never let him off until the fall of the curtain." The same disagreeable bustle and petty complication of intrigue you may remark in the author's drama of " Richelieu." " The Lady of Lyons " was a much simpler and better wrought plot ; the incidents following each other not too swiftly or startingly. In " Richelieu," it always seemed to me as if one heard doors per- petually clapping and banging ; one was puzzled to follow the train of conversation, in the midst of the perpetual small noises that distracted one right and left. Nor is the list of characters of "The Sea Captain'' to be despised. The outlines of all of them are good. A mother, for .whom one feels a proper tragic mixture of hatred and pity; a EPISTLES TO THE LITERATI 375 gallant single-hearted son, whom she disdains, and who conquers her at last by his noble conduct; a dashing haughty Tybalt of a brother; a wicked poor cousin, a pretty maid, and a fierce buccanier. These people might pass three hours very well on the stage, and interest the audience hugely ; but the author fails in filling up the outlines. His language is absurdly stilted, fre- quently careless ; the reader or spectator hears a number of loud speeches, but scarce a dozen lines that seem to belong of nature to the speakers. Nothing can be more fulsome or loathsome to my mind than the continual sham-religious claptraps which the author has put into the mouth of his hero ; nothing more unsailorlike than his namby- pamby starlit descriptions, which my ingenious colleague has, I see, alluded to. "Thy faith my anchor, and thine eyes my haven," cries the gallant captain to his lady. See how loosely the sentence is constructed, like a thousand others in the book. The captain is to cast anchor with the girl's faith in her own eyes : either image might pass by itself, but together, like the quadrupeds of Kilkenny, they devour each other. The captain tells his lieutenant to bid his bai-k veer round to a point in the harbour. Was ever such language My Lady gives Sir Maurice a thousand pounds to waft him (her son) to some distant shore. Nonsense, sheer nonsense ; and, what is worse, affected nonsense ! Look at the comedy of the poor cousin. " There is a great deal of game on the estate — partridges, hares, wild-geese, snipes, and plovers (smacking his lips) — besides a magnificent preserve of sparrows, which I can sell to the little hlachguards in the streets at a penny a hundred. But I am very poor — a very poor old knight ! " Is this wit or nature 1 It is a kind of sham wit : it reads as if it were wit, but it is not. What poor, poor stuif, about the little blackguard boys ! what flimsy ecstasies and silly " smacking of lips " about the plovers ! Is this the man who writes for the next age ? fie ! Here is another joke : — SIR MAURICE. " Mice ! zounds, how can I Keep mice ! I can't afford it ! They were starved To death an age ago. The last was found Come Christmas -three years, stretched beside a bone In that same larder, so consumed and worn By pious fast, 'twas awful to behold it ! I canonised its corpse in spirits of wine, And set it in the porch — a solemn warning To thieves and beggars ! " 376 MEMOIRS TO MB. C. J. YELLOWPLUSH Is not this rare wit 1 " Zounds ! how can I keep mice ? " is well enough for a miser ; not too new, or brilliant either ; but this miserable dilution of a thin joke, this wretched hunting down ol the poor mouse ! It is humiliating to think of a man of esprit harping so long on such a mean pitiful string. A man who aspires to immortality, too ! I doubt whether it is to be gained thus ; whether our author's words are not too loosely built to make " starry-pointing pyramids " of. Horace clipped and squared his blocks more carefully before he laid the monument which imher edax, or aquila impotens, or fiiga temporum might assail in vain. Even old Ovid, when he raised his stately shining heathen temple, had placed some columns in it, and hewn out a statue or two which deserved the immortality that he prophesied (somewhat aiTogantly) for himself. But let not all be looking forward to a future, and fancying that, " incerti spatium dum finiat cevi," our books are to be immortal. Alas ! the way to immortality is not so easy, nor will our " Sea Captain " be permitted such an unconscionable craise. If all the immortalities were really to have their wish, what a work would our descendants have to study them all ! Not yet, in my humble opinion, has the honourable baronet achieved this deathless consummation. There will come a day (may it be long distant !) when the very best of his novels will be forgotten; and it is reasonable to suppose that his dramas will pass out of existence, some time or other, in the lapse of the secula seculorv/m. In the meantime, my dear Plush, if you ask me what the great obstacle is towards the dramatic fame and merit of our friend, I would say that it does not lie so much in hostile critics or feeble health, as in a careless habit of writing, and a peevish vanity which causes him to shut his eyes to his faults. The question of original capacity I will not moot; one may think very highly of the honourable baronet's talent, without rating it quite so high as he seems disposed to do. And to conclude : as he has chosen to combat the critics in person, the critics are surely justified in being allowed to address him directly. With best compliments to Mrs. YeUowplush, I have the honour to be, dear Sir, your most faithful and obliged humble servant, John Thomas Smith. And now, Smith having finisht his letter, I think I can't do better than clothes mine lickwise; for though I should never be tired of talking, praps the public may of hearing, and therefore it's best to shut up shopp. EPISTLES TO THE LITERATI 377 What I've said, respected Bamit, I hoap you woan't take un- kind. A play, you see, is public property for every one to say his say on ; and I think, if you read your prefez over agin, you'll see that it ax as a direct incouridgment to us critix to come forrard and notice you. But don't fansy, I besitch you, that we are actiated by hostillaty : fust write a good play, and you'll see we'll prays it fast enuff. Waiting which, Agray, Mimseer le Ghevaleer, I'ashur- ance de ma hot cumsideratun. Voter distangy, Y. THE DIARY OF C. JEAMES DE LA PLUCHE, ESQ.. WITH HIS LETTERS THE DIARY OF C. JEAMES DE LA PLUCHE, Esq. A LUCKY SPECULATOR CONSIDERABLE sensation has been excited in the upper and lower circles in the West End, by a startling piece of good fortune which has befallen James Plush, Esq., lately footman in a respected family in Berkeley Square. "One day last week, Mr. James waited upon his master, who is a banker in the City ; and after a little blushing and hesitation, said he had sayed a little money in service, was anxious to retire, and to invest his savings to advantage. "His master (we believe we may mention, without offending delicacy, the well-known name of Sir George Flimsy, of the house of Flimsy, Diddler, and Flash) smilingly asked Mr. James what was the amount of his savings, wondering considerably how, out of an income of thirty guineas — the main part of which he spent in bouquets, silk stockings, and perfumery — Mr. Plush could have managed to lay by anything. " Mr. Plush, with some hesitation, said he had been speculating in railroads, and stated his winnings to have been thirty thousand pounds. He had commenced his speculations with twenty, borrowed from a fellow-servant. He had dated his letters from the house in Berkeley Square, and humbly begged pardon of his master for not having instructed the Railway Secretaries who answered his applica- tions to apply at the area-beU. " Sir George, who was at breakfast, instantly rose, and shook Mr. P. by the hand , Lady Flimsy begged him to be seated, and partake of the breakfast which he had laid on the table ; and has subsequently invited him to her grand dejeitner at Richmond, where it was observed that Miss Emily Flimsy, her beautiful and accom- plished seventh daughter, paid the lucky gentleman marked attention. 382 A LUCKY SPECULATOE "We hear it stated that Mr. P. is of a very ancient family (Hugo de la Pluche came over -with the Conqueror) ; and the new brougham which he has started bears the ancient coat of his race. " He has taken apartments in the Albany, and is a director of thirty-three railroads. He proposes to stand for Parliament at the next general election on decidedly Conservative principles, which have always been the politics of his family. " Report says, that even in his humble capacity Miss Emily Flimsy had remarked his high demeanour. Well, ' None but the brave,' say we, • deserve the fair.' " — Morning Paper. This announcement will explain the following lines, which have been put into our box * with a West End post-mark. If, as we believe, they are written by the young woman from whom the millionaire borrowed the sum on which he raised his fortune, what heart will not melt with sympathy at her tale, and pity the sorrows whi \ she expresses in such artless language % If it be not too late ; if wealth have not rendered its possessor callous : if poor Maryanne he still alive ; we trust, we trust, Mr. Plush wiU do her justice. "JEAMES OF BUCKLEY SQUAEB. "a heligy. "Come all ye gents Tot cleans the plate, Come all ye ladies maids so fair-^ Vile I a story vill relate Of cruel Jearoes of Buckley Square. A tighter lad, it is oonfest, Ne'er Talked with powder in his air. Or Tore a nosegay in his breast, Than andsum Jeames of Buckley Square. O Etus ! it Tas the best of sights, Behind his Master's coach and pair. To see our Jeames in red plush tights, A driTing hoff from Buckley Square. He Tel became his hagwilletts, He cocked his at with such a hair; His calTes and Tiskers vas such pets. That hall loTed Jeames of Buckley Square. • The letter-box of Mr. Punch, in whose columns these papers were first Dublishew. A LUCKY SPEOULATOK 383 He pleased the hup-stairs folks as veil, And o ! I vithered with despair, Missis vould ring the parler bell. And call up Jeames in Buckley Square. Both beer and sperrits he abhord (Sperrits and beer I can't a bear), You would have thought be vas a lord Down in our All in Buckley Square. Last year he visper'd, ' Mary Ann, Ven I've an under'd pound to spare. To take a public is my plan. And leave this hojous Buckley Square.' how my gentle heart did bound, To think that I his name should bear. ' Dear Jeames,' says I, ' I've twenty pound,' And gev them him in Buckley Square. Our master vas a CSty gent. His name's in railroads everywhere. And lord, vot lots of letters vent Betwigst his brokers and Buckley Square ! My Jeames it was the letters took. And read them all (I think it's fair), And took a leaf from Master's book. As hothers do in Buckley Square. Encouraged with my twenty pound, Of which poor I was unavare, He wrote the Companies all round, And signed hisself from Buckley Square. And how John Porter used to grin, As day by day, share after share. Came railvay letters pouring in, 'J. Plush, Esquire, in Buckley Square.' Our servants' All was in a rage — Scrip, stock, curves, gradients, bull and bear, Vith butler, coachman, groom and page, Vas all the talk in Buckley Square. But ! imagine vot I felt Last Vensday veek as ever were ; 1 gits a letter, which I spelt ' Miss M. A. Hoggins, Buckley Square.' He sent me back my money true — He sent me back my lock of air, And said, ' My dear, I bid ajew To Mary Hann and Buckley Square. 384 A LETTER FROM "JEAMES" Tliink not to marry, foolish Hann, With people who your betters are ; James Plush is now a gentleman, And you — a cook in Buckley Square. ' I've thirty thousand guineas won, In six short months, by genus rare ; You little thought what Jeames was on, Poor Mary Hann, in Buckley Square. I've thirty thousand guineas net. Powder and plush I scorn to vear ; And so, Miss Mary Hann, forget For hever Jeames, of Buckley Square.' " The rest of the MS. is illegible, being literally washed away in a flood of tears. A LETTER PROM " JEAMES, OF BUCKLEY SQUARE." Albany, Letter X. August 10, 1845. " Sir, — Has a reglar suscriber to your emusing paper, I beg leaf to state that I should never have done so, had I supposed that it was your abbit to igspose the mistaries of privit life, and to hinjer the delligit feelings of umble individyouals like myself, who have no ideer of being made the subject of newspaper criticism. " I elude, Sir, to the unjustafiable use which has been made of my name in your Journal, where both my muccantile speclations and the hinmost pashns of my art have been brot forrards in a ridicklus way for the public emusemint. " What call, Sir, has the public to inquire into the suckmstansies of my engagements with Miss Mary Hann Oggins, or to meddle with their rupsher'! Why am I to be maid the hobjick of your redieule in a doggril bodlit impewted to her? I say impewted, because, in my time at least, Mary Hann could only sign her + mark (has I've hoften witnist it for her when she paid hin at the Savings Bank), and has for sacrificing to the Mewses and making poatry, she was as hincapible as Mr. Wakley himself. "With respect to the ballit, my baleaf is, that it is wrote by a footman in a low famly, a pore retch who attempted to rivle me in my affections to Mary Hann — a feller not five foot six, and with no more calves to his legs than a donkey — who was always a-ritin (having been a doctor's boy) and who I nockt down with a pint of porter (as he well recklex) at the 3 Tuns Jerming Street, for daring A Lettee feom "JeameS" 385 to try to make a but of me. He has signed Miss H's name to his nonsince and lies : and you lay yourself hopen to a haction for lible for insutting them in your paper. "It is false that I have treated Miss H. hill in homy way. That I borrowed 201b of her is trew. But she confesses I paid it back. Can haU people say as much of the money they've lent or borrowed'! No. And I not only paid it back, but giv her the andsomest pres'nts : which I never should have eluded to, but for this attack. Fust, a silver thimble (which I found in Missus's work-box) ; secknd, a voUom of Byrom's poems ; third, I halways brought her a glas of Ourasore, when we ad a party, of which she was remarkable fond. I treated her to Hashley's twice (and halways a srimp or a hoyster by the way), and a thowsnd deligit attentions, which I sapose count for nothinJc. "Has for marridge. Haltered suckmstancies rendered it him- possable. I was gone into a new spear of life — mingling with my native aristoxy. I breathe no saUible of blame against Miss H., but his a hilliterit cookmaid fit to set at a fashnable table ? Do young fellers of rank genrally marry out of the Etching *! If we cast our i's upon a low-born gal, I needn say it's only a tempory distraction, pore passy le tong. So much for her claims upon me. Has for that beest of a Doctor's boy he's unwuthy the notas of a Gentleman. " That I've one thirty thousand lb, and praps more, I dont deny. Ow much has the Kilossus of Railroads one, I should like to know, and what was his cappitle ? I hentered the market with 201b, specklated Jewdicious, and ham what I ham. So may you be (if you have 201b, and praps you haven't — So may you be : if you choose to go in & win. " I for my part am jusly prowd of my suxess, and could give you a hundred instances of my gratatude. For igsample, the fust pair of bosses I bought (and a better pair of steppers I dafy you to see in hany curracle) I crisn'd Hull and Selby, in grateful elusion to my transackshns in that railroad. My riding Cob I called very unhaptly my Dublin and Galway. He came down with me the other day, and I've jest sold him at \ discount. " At fust with prudence and modration I only kep two grooms for my stables, one of whom lickwise waited on me at table. I have now a confidenshle servant, a vally de shamber — He curls my air ; inspex my accounts, and hansers my hinvitations to dinner. I call this Vally my Trent Vally, for it was the prophit I got from that exlent line, which injuiced me to ingage him. "Besides my North British Plate and Breakfast equipidge — I have two handsom suvviees for dinner — the goold plate for Sundays, 3 2 b 386 A LETTER PROM "JEAMES" and the silver for common use. When I ave a great party, ' Trent,' I say to my man, ' we will have the London and Bummingham plate to-day (the goold), or else the Manchester and Leeds (the silver).' I bought them after realising on the abuf lines, and if people suppose that the companys made me a presnt of the plate, how can I help it? " In the sam way I say, ' Trent, bring us a bottle of Bristol and Hexeter ! ' or, ' Put some Heastem Counties in hice ! ' He knows what I mean ; it's the wines I bought upon the hospicious tumminar tion of my connexshn with those two railroads. "So strong, indeed, as this abbit become, that being asked to stand Godfather to the youngest Miss Diddle last weak, I had her christened (provisionally) Rosamell — from the French line of which I am Director ; and only the other day, finding myself rayther unwell, ' Doctor,' says I to Sir Jeames Clark, ' 'Ive sent to consult you because my Midlands are out of border ; and I want you to send them up to a premium.' The Doctor lafd, and I beleave told the story subsqiiintly at Buckinum P-U-s. " But I win trouble you no father. My sole objict in writing has been to clear my carratei — to show that I came by my money in a honrable way : that I'm not ashaymd of the manner in which I gayned it, and ham indeed gratefiil for my good fortune. " To conclude, I have ad my pedigree maid out at the Erald Hoffis (I don't mean the Morning Erald), and have took for my arms a Stagg. You are corrict in stating that I am of hancient Normin famly. This is more than Peal can say, to whomb I applied for a barnetcy ; but the primmier being of low igstraction, natraUy stickles for his border. Oonsurvative though I be, / may change my opinions before the next Election, when I intend to hoffer myself as a Candydick for Parlymint. Meanwhile, I have the honor to be, Sir, your most obeajnt Survnt, "FiTZ- James de la Pluche." THE DIARY ONE day in the panic week, our friend Jeames called at our office, evidently in great perturbation of mind and disorder of dress. He had no flower in his button-hole ; his yellow kid gloves were certainly two days old. He had not above three of the ten chains he usually sports, and his great coarse knotty- knuckled old hands were deprived of some dozen of the rubies, emeralds, and other cameos with which, since his elevation to fortune, the poor feUow has thought fit to adorn himself. " How's scrip, Mr. Jeames % " said we pleasantly, greeting our esteemed contributor. "Scrip be ," replied he, with an expression we cannot repeat, and a look of agony it is impossible to describe in print, and walked about the parloxir whistling, humming, rattling his keys and coppers, and showing other signs of agitation. At last, " Mr. Pwich," says he, after a moment's hesitation, " I wish to speak to you on a pint of businiss. I wish to be paid for my contribewtioas to your paper. Suckmstances is altered with me. I — I — in a word, can you lend me £ for the account 1" * He named the sum. It was one so great that we don't care to mention it here ; but on receiving a cheque for the amount (on Messrs. Pump and Aldgate, our bankers), tears came into the honest fellow's eyes. He squeezed our hand until he nearly wrung it off, and shouting to a cab, he plunged into it at our oifice-door, and was off to the City. Eetuming to our study, we found he had left on our table an open pocket-book, of the contents of which (for the sake of safety) we took an inventory. It contained — three tavern-bills, paid; a tailor's ditto, unsettled ; forty-nine allotments in different companies, twenty-six thousand seven hundred shares in all, of which the market value we take, on an average, to be ^ discount ; and in an old bit of paper tied with pink riband a lock of chestnut hair, with the initials M. A. H. In the diary of the pocket-book was a jourjial, jotted down hy the proprietor from time to time. At first the entries are insignificant ; ^88 THE DIARY OF as, for instance : — " Srd Janwxry — Our beer in the Suvnts' Hall so precious small at this Christmas time that I reely mms give warning, & wood, but for my dear Mary Hann." " Fehruary 7 — That broot Screw, the Butler, wanted to kis her, but my dear Mary Hann boxt his hold hears, & served him right. / dateU Screw," — and so forth. Then the diary relates to Stock Exchange operations, until we come to the time when, having achieved his successes, Mr. James quitted Berkeley Square and his livery, and began his life as a speculator and a gentleman upon town. It is from the latter part of his diary that we make .the following EXTRAX :— " Wen I anounced in the Servnts All my axeshn of forting, and that by the exasize of my own talince and ingianiuty I had reerhzed a summ of 20,000 lb. (it was only 5, but what's the use of a mann depreshiating the qualaty of his own mackyrel f) — wen I enounced my abrup intention to cut — you should have scan the sensation among hall the people ! — Cook wanted to know whether I woodn like a sweatbred, or the slise of the breast of a Cold Tucky. Screw, the butler (womb I always detested as a hinsalant hoverbaring beest), begged me to walk into the Hupper Servnts All, and try a glass of Shuperior Shatto Margo. Heven Visp, the coachmin, eld out his and, & said, ' Jeames, I hopes theres no quarraling betwigst you & me, & I'll stand a pot of beer with pleasure.' " The sickofnts ! — that wery Cook had split on me to the House- keeper ony last week (catchin me priggin some cold tuttle soop, of which I'm remarkable fond). Has for the butler, I always ebommi- nated him for his precious snears and imperenoe to all us Gents who woar livry (he never would sit in our parlour, fasooth, nor drink out of our mugs) ; and in regard of Visp — why, it was ony the day before the wulgar beest hoffered to fite me, and thretnd to give me a good iding if I refused. ' Gentlemen and ladies,' says I, as haughty as may be, ' there's nothink that I want for that I can't go for to buy with my hown money, and take at my lodgins in the Halbany, letter Hex ; if I'm ungry I've no need to refresh myself in the hitching.' And so saying, I took a dignified ajew of these minnial domestics ; and ascending to my epartment in the 4 pair back, brushed the powder out of my air, and taking off those hojous livries for hever, put on a new soot, made for me by Oullin of St. Jeames Street, and which fitted my manly figger as tight as whacks. " There was one pusson in the house with womb I was rayther anxious to avoid a persnal leave-taking — Mary Hann Oggins, I mean — for my art is natural tender, and I can't abide seeing a pore gal in pane. I'd given her previous the infamation of my departure C. JEAMES DE LA PLUOHE 389 — doing the ansom thing by her at the same time — paying her back 201b., which she'd lent me 6 months before : and paying her back not only the interest, but I gave her an andsome pair of scissars and a silver thimbil, by way of boanus, 'Mary Hann,' says I, ' sucldnistancies has haltered our rellatif positions in life. I quit the Servnts Hall for ever (for has for your marrying a person in my rank, that, my dear, is hall gammin), and so I wish you a good-by, my good gal, and if you want to better yourself, halways refer to me.' "Mary Hann didn't hanser my speech (which I think was remarkable kind), but looked at me in the face quite wild hke, and bust into somethink betwigst a laugh & a cry, and fell down with her ed on the kitching dresser, where she lay until her young Missis rang the dressing-room bell. Would you bleave it ? She left the thimbil & things, & my check for 201b. 10s., on the tabil when she went to hanser the bell. And now I heard her sobbing and vimper- ing in her own room nex but one to mine, vith the dore open, peraps expecting I should come in and say good-by. But, as soon as I was dressed, I cut downstairs, hony desiring Frederick my fellow- servnt, to fetch me a cabb, and requesting permission to take leaf of my lady & the famly before my departure." " How Miss Hemly did hogle me to be sure ! Her Ladyship told me what a sweet gal she was — hamiable, fond of poetry, plays the gitter. Then she basked me if I hked blond bewties and haubin hair. Haubin, indeed ! I don't hke carrits ! as it must be confest Miss Hemly's his — and has for a blond buty, she has pink I's like a Halbino, and her face looks as if it were dipt in a brann mash. How she squeeged my & as she went away ! " Mary Hann now has haubin air, and a cumplexion like roses and hivory, and I's as blew as Evin. " I gev Frederick two and six for fetchin the cabb — been resolved to hact the gentleman in hall things. How he stared ! " " 25iA.' — I am now director of forty-seven hadvantageous lines, and have past haU day in the Citty. Although I've hate or nine new soots of close, and Mr. Cullin fits me heligant, yet I fansy they hall reckonise me. Conshns whispers to me, ' Jeams, you'r hony a footman in disguise hafter all.' " "28>led. They were from all neighbouring countries — crowds of English, as you may fancy, armed with Murray's guide-books, troops of chattering Frenchmen, Frankfort Jews with roulette-tables, and Tyrolese with gloves and 472 A LEGEND OF THE RHINE trinkets — all hied towards the field where the butts were set up, and the archery practice was to be held. The Childe and his brother archers were, it need not be said, early on the ground. But what words of mine can describe the young gentleman's emotion when, preceded by a band of trumpets, bagpipes, ophicleides, and other wind instruments, the Prince of Oleves appeared with the Princess Helen, his daughter ? And ah ! what expressions of my humble pen can do justice to the beauty of that young lady? Fancy every charm which decorates the person, every virtue which orna- ments the mind, every accomplishment which renders charming mind and charming person doubly charming, and then you will have but a faint and feeble idea of the beauties of Her Highness the Princess Helen. Fancy a complexion such as they say (I know not with what justice) Rowland's Kalydor imparts to the users of that cosmetic ; fancy teeth to which orient pearls are like Wallsend coals ; eyes, which were so blue, tender, and bright, that while they ran you through with their lustre, they healed you with their kindness ; a neck and waist, so ravishingly slender and graceful, that the least that is said about them the better ; a foot which fell upon the flowers no heavier than a dewdrop — and this charming person set off by the most elegant toilet that ever milliner devised ! The lovely Helen's hair (which was as black as the finest varnish for boots) was so long, that it was borne on a cushion several yards behind her by the maidens of her train ; and a hat, set off with moss-roses, sunflowers, bugles, birds-of-paradise, gold lace, and pink ribbon, gave her a dis- tinguS air, which would have set the editor of the Mornimy Post mad with love. It had exactly the same effect upon the noble Childe of Godes- berg, as leaning on his ivory bow, with his legs crossed, he stood and gazed on her, as Cupid gazed on Psyche. Their eyes met : it was all over with both of them. A blush came at one and the same minute budding to the cheek of either. A simultaneous throb beat in those young hearts ! They loved each other for ever from that instant. Otto stQl stood, cross-legged, enraptured, leaning on his ivory bow ; but Helen, calling to a maiden for her pocket-handkerchief, blew her beautiful Grecian nose in order to hide her agitation. Bless ye, bless ye, pretty ones ! I am old now ; but not so old but that I kindle at the tale of love. Theresa MacWhirter too has lived and loved. Heigho ! Who is yon chief that stands behind the truck whereon are seated the Princess and the stout old lord her father ? Who is he whose hair is of the carroty hue — whose eyes, across a snubby bunch of a nose, are perpetually scowling at each other ; who has a hump- back, and a hideous mouth, surrounded with bristles, and crammed THE BATTLE OF THE BOWMEN 473 full of jutting yellow odious teeth 1 Although he wears a sky-blue doublet laced with silver, it only serves to render his vulgar punchy figure doubly ridiculous ; although his nether garment is of salmon- coloured velvet, it only draws the more attention to his legs, which are disgustingly crooked and bandy. A rose-coloured hat, with towering pea-green ostrich-plumes, looks absurd on his bull-head; and though it is time of peace, the wretch is armed with a multipli- city of daggers, knives, yataghans, dirks, sabres, and scimitars, which testify his truculent and bloody disposition. 'Tis the terrible Eowski de Donnerbhtz, Margrave of Eulenschreckenstein. Eeport says he is a suitor for the hand of the lovely Helen. He addresses various speeches of gallantry to her, and grins hideously as he thrusts his disgusting head over her lily shoulder. But she turns away from him ! turns and shudders — ay, as she would at a black dose ! Otto stands gazing still, and leaning on his bow. "What is the prize 1 " asks one archer of another. There are two prizes — a velvet cap, embroidered by the hand of the Princess, and a chain of massive gold, of enormous value. Both lie on cushions before her. " I know which I shall choose, when I win the first prize," says a swarthy, savage, and bandy-legged archer, who bears the owl gules on a black shield, the cognisance of the Lord Eowski de Donnerblitz. " Which, fellow 1 " says Otto, turning fiercely upon him. " The chain, to be sure ! " says the leering archer. " You do not suppose I am such a flat as to choose that velvet gimcrack there?" Otto laughed in scorn, and began to prepare his bow. The trumpets sounding proclaimed that the sports were about to commence. Is it necessary to describe them ? No : that has already been done in the novel of "Ivanhoe" before mentioned. Fancy the archers clad in Lincoln green, all coming forward in turn, and firing at the targets. Some hit, some missed; those that missed were fain to retire amidst the jeers of the multitudinous spectators. Those that hit began new trials of skill ; but it was easy to see, from the first, that the battle lay between Squintoff (the Eowski archer) and the young hero with the golden hair and the ivory bow. Squintoff's fame as a marksman was known throughout Europe ; but who was his young competitor ? Ah ! there was one heart in the assembly that beat most anxiously to know. 'Twas Helen's. The crowning trial arrived. The buU's-eye of the target, set up at three-quarters of a mile distance from the archers, was so small, that it required a very clever man indeed to see, much more to hit it ; and as Squintoff was selecting his arrow for the final trial, the Eowski flung a purse of gold towards his archer, saying — " Squintoff, 474 A LEGEND OF THE KHINE an ye win the prize, the purse is thine.'' " I may as well pocket it at once, your honour," said the bowman, with a sneer at Otto. "This young chick, who has been lucky as yet, will hardly hit such a mark as that." And, taking his aim, Squintofif discharged his arrow right into the very middle of the bull's-eye. "Can you mend that, young springald?" said he, as a shout rent the air at his success, as Helen turned pale to think that the champion of her secret heart was likely to be overcome, and as Squintoff, pocketing the Eowski's money, turned to the noble boy of Godesberg. " Has anybody got a pea 1 " asked the lad. Everybody laughed at his droll request ; and an old woman, who was selling porridge in the crowd, handed him the vegetable which he demanded. It was a dry and yellow pea. Otto, stepping up to the target, caused Squintoff to extract his arrow from the bull's-eye, and placed in the orifice made by the steel point of the shaft, the pea which he had received from the old woman. He then came back to his place. As he prepared to shoot, Helen was so overcome by emotion, that 'twas thought she would have fainted. Never, never had she seen a being so beautiful as the young hero now before her. He looked almost divine. He flung back his long clusters of hair from his bright eyes and tall forehead ; the blush of health mantled on his cheek, from which the barber's weapon had never shorn the down. He took his bow, and one of his most elegant arrows, and poising himself lightly on his right leg, he flung himself forward, raising his left leg on a level with his ear. He looked like Apollo, as he stood balancing himself there. He discharged his dart from the thrumming bowstring : it clove the blue air — whizz ! " He has split the pea I " said the Princess, and fainted. The Rowski, with one eye, hurled an indignant look at the boy, while with the other he levelled (if aught so crooked can be said to level anything) a furious glance at his archer. The archer swore a sulky oath. "He is the better man ! " said he. " I suppose, young chap, you take the gold chain 1 " "The gold chain !" said Otto. "Prefer a gold chain to a cap worked by that august hand ? Never ! " And advancing to the balcony where the Princess, who now came to herself, was sitting, he kneeled down before her, and received the velvet cap ; which, blushing as scarlet as the cap itself, the Princess Helen placed on his golden ringlets. Once more their eyes met — their hearts thrilled. They had never spoken, but they knew they loved each other for ever. "Wilt thou take service with the Rowski of Donnerblitz ? " said that individual to the youth, " Thou shalt be captain of my THE BATTLE OF THE BOWMEN 475 archers in place of yon blundering nincompoop, whom thou hast overcome." " Yon blundering nincompoop is a skilful and gallant archer," replied Otto haughtily; "and I wiU not take service with the Rowski of Donnerblitz." " Wilt thou enter the household of the Prince of Oleves ? " said the father of Helen, laughing, and not a little amused at the haughti- ness of the humble archer. " I would die for the Duke of Cleves and his family,'' said Otto, bowing low. He laid a particular and a tender emphasis on the word family. Helen knew what he meant. She was the family. In fact, her mother was no more, and her papa had no other offspring. " What is thy name, good fellow," said the Prince, " that my steward may enrol thee ? " " Sir," said Otto, again blushing, " I am Otto the Aechee." CHAPTER XI THE MARTYR OF LOVE THE archers who had travelled in company with young Otto, gave a handsome dinner in compliment to the success of our hero ; at which his friend distinguished himself as usual in the eating and drinking department. Squintoff, the Eowski bow- inan, declined to attend ; so great was the envy of the brute at the youthful hero's superiority. As for Otto himself, he sat on the right hand of the chairman ; but it was remarked that he could not eat. Gentle reader of my page ! thou knowest why full well. He was too much in love to have any appetite ; for though I myself, when labouring under that passion, never found my consumption of victuals diminish, yet remember our Otto was a hero of romance, and they never are hungry when they're in love. The next day, the young gentleman proceeded to enrol himself in the corps of Archers of the Prince of Cleves, and with him came his attached squire, who vowed he never would leave him. As Otto threw aside his own elegant dress, and donned the livery of the House of Cleves, the noble Childe sighed not a little. 'Twas a splendid uniform, 'tis true, but still it was a livery, and one of his proud spirit Ul bears another's cognisances. " They are the colours of the Princess, however," said he, consoling himself; "and what suffering would I not undergo for her ? " As for Wolfgang, the squire, it may well be supposed that the good-natured low-bom fellow had no such scruples ; but he was glad enough to exchange for the pink hose, the yellow jacket, the pea-green cloak, and orange-tawny hat, with which the Duke's steward supplied him, the homely patched doublet of green which he had worn for years past. " Look at yon two archers,'' said the Prince of Cleves to his guest the Eowski of Donnerblitz, as they were strolling on the battlements after dinner, smoking their cigars as usual. His High- ness pointed to our two young friends, who were mounting guard for the first time. " See yon two bowmen — mark their bearing ! One is the youth who beat thy SquintoflF, and t'other, an I mistake not, won the third prize at the butts. Both wear the same uniform THE MAETYR OP LOVE 477 — the colours of my house — yet, wouldst not swear that the one was but a churl, and the other a noble gentleman 1 " " Which looks like the nobleman 1 " said the Eowski, as black as thunder. " Which ? why, young Otto, to be sure," said the Princess Helen eagerly. The young lady was following the pair; but under pre- tence of disliking the odour of the cigar, she had refused the Rowski's proffered arm, and was loitering behind with her parasol. Her interposition in favour of her young protegd only made the black and jealous Rowski more iU-humoured. " How long is it, Sir Prince of Oleves," said he, " that the churls who wear your livery permit themselves to wear the ornaments of noble knights ? Who but a noble dare wear ringlets such as yon springald's ? Ho, archer ! " roared he, " come hither, fellow." And Otto stood before him. As he came, and presenting arms stood respectfully before the Prince and his savage guest, he looked for one moment at the lovely Helen — their eyes met, their hearts beat simultaneously : and, quick, two little blushes appeared in the cheek of either. I have seen one ship at sea answering another's signal so. WhUe they are so regarding each other, let us just remind our readers of the great estimation in which the hair was held in the North. Only nobles were permitted to wear it long. When a man disgraced himself, a shaving was sure to follow. Penalties were inflicted upon villains or vassals who sported ringlets. See the works of Aurelius Tonsor ; Hirsutus de NobUitate CapUlari ; Rolandus de Oleo Macassari ; Schnurrbart ; Frisirische Alterthum- skunde, &c. " We must have those ringlets of thine cut, good feUow,'' said the Duke of Oleves good-naturedly, but wishing to spare the feelings of his gallant recruit. '"Tis against the regulation cut of my archer guard." " Cut off my hair ! " cried Otto, agonised. " Ay, and thine ears with it, yokel," roared Donnerblitz. " Peace, noble Eulenschreckenstein," said the Duke with dignity : "let the Duke of Oleves deal as he will with his own men-at-arms. And you, young sir, unloose the grip of thy dagger." Otto, indeed, had convulsively grasped his snickersnee, with intent to plunge it into the heart of the Rowski ; but his politer feelings overcame him. " The Count need not fear, my Lord," said he : "a lady is present.'' And he took off his orange-tawny cap and bowed low. Ah ! what a pang shot through the heart of Helen, as she thought that those lovely ringlets must be shorn from that beautiful head ! Otto's mind was, too, in commotion. His feelings as a gentle- 478 A LEGEND OF THE RHINE man — let us add, his pride as a man — for who is not, let us ask, proud of a good head of hair ? — waged war within his soul. He expostulated with the Prince. " It was never in my contempla- tion," he said, " on taking service, to undergo the operation of hair-cutting." " Thou art free to go or stay. Sir Archer,'' said the Prince pettishly. " I will have no churls imitating noblemen in my service : I will bandy no conditions with archers of my guard." " My resolve is taken," said Otto, irritated too in his turn. " I will -" " What 1 " cried Helen, breathless with intense agitation. "I will stap," answered Otto. The poor girl almost fainted with joy. The Rowski frowned with demoniac fury, and grinding his teeth and cursing in the horrible German jargon, stalked away. " So be it," said the Prince of Oleves, taking his daughter's arm — " and here comes Snipwitz, my barber, who shall do the business for you." With this the Prince too moved on, feeling in his heart not a little compassion for the lad ; for Adolf of Cleves had been handsome in his youth, and distinguished for the ornament of which he was now depriving his archer. Snipwitz led the poor lad into a side-room, and there — in a word — operated upon him. The golden curls — fair curls that his mother had so often played with ! — fell under the shears and round the lad's knees, until he looked as if he was sitting in a bath of sunbeams. When the frightful act had been performed. Otto, who entered the little chamber in the tower ringleted like Apollo, issued from it as cropped as a charity-boy. See how melancholy he looks, now that the operation is over ! — And no wonder. He was thinking what would be Helen's opinion of him, now that one of his chief personal ornaments was gone. " Will she know me 1 " thought he ; " will she love me after this hideous mutilation t " Yielding to these gloomy thoughts, and, indeed, rather unwilling to be seen by his comrades, now that he was so disfigured, the young gentleman had hidden himself behind one of the buttresses of the wall, a prey to natural despondency ; when he saw something which instantly restored him to good spirits. He saw the lovely Helen coming towards the chamber where the odious barber had performed upon him — coming forward timidly, looking round her anxiously, blushing with delightful agitation, — and presently seeing, as she tjiought, the coast clear, she entered the apartment. She stooped 4own, and ah ! what was Otto's joy when he saw her pick up a beautiful golden lock of his hair, press it to her lips, and then hide THE MARTYE OP LOVE 479 it ill her bosom ! No carnation ever blushed so redly as Helen did when she came out after performing this feat. Then she hurried straightway to her own apartments in the castle, and Otto, whose first impulse was to come out from his hiding-place, and, falling at her feet, call heaven and earth to witness to his passion, with difficulty restrained his feelings and let her pass : but the love- stricken young hero was so delighted with this evident proof of reciprocated attachment, that all regret at losing his ringlets at once left him, and he vowed he would sacrifice not only his hair, but his head, if need were, to do her service. That very afternoon, no small bustle and conversation took place in the castle, on account of the sudden departure of the Rowski of Eulenschreckenstein, with all his train and equipage. He went away in the greatest wrath, it was said, after a long and loud conversation with the Prince. As that potentate conducted his guest to the gate, walking rather demurely and shamefacedly by his side, as he gathered his attendants in the court, and there mounted his charger, the Rowski ordered his trumpets to sound, and scomfuUy flung a largesse of gold among the servitors and men- at-arms of the House of Cleves, who were marshalled in the court. " Farewell, Sir Prince," said he to his host : "I quit you now suddenly ; but remember, it is not my last visit to the Castle of Cleves." And ordering his band to play " See the Conquering Hero comes," he clattered away through the drawbridge. The Princess Helen was not present at his departure ; and the venerable Prince of Cleves looked rather moody and chapfallen when his guest left him. He visited all the castle defences pretty accurately that night, and inquired of his officers the state of the ammunition, pro- visions, &c. He said nothing ; but the Princess Helen's maid did : and everybody knew that the Rowski had made his proposals, had been rejected, and, getting up in a violent fury, had caUed for his people, and sworn by his great gods that he would not enter the castle again until he rode over the breach, lance in hand, the con- queror of Cleves and all belonging to it. No little consternation was spread through the garrison at the news : for everybody knew the Rowski to be one of the most intrepid and powerful soldiers in all Germany — one of the most skilful generals. Generous to extravagance to his own followers, he was ruthless to the enemy : a hundred stories were told of the dreadful barbarities exercised by him in several towns and castles which he had captured and sacked. And poor Helen had the pain of thinking, that in consequence of her refusal she was dooming all the men, women, and children of the principality to indiscriminate and horrible slaughter. 48o A LEGEND OF THE RHINE The dreadful surmises regarding a war received in a few days dreadful confirmation. It was noon, and the worthy Prince of Cleves was taking his dinner (though the honest warrior had had little appetite for that meal for some time past), when trumpets were heard at the gate ; and presently the herald of the Rowski of Donnerblitz, clad in a tabard on which the arms of the Count were blazoned, entered the dining-hall. A page bore a steel gauntlet on a cushion ; Bleu SangUer had his hat on his head. The Prince of Cleves put on his own, as the herald came up to the chair of state where the sovereign sat. "Silence for Bleu Sanglier," cried the Prince gravely. "Say your say. Sir Herald." "In the name of the high and mighty Rowski, Prince of Donnerblitz, Margrave of Eulenschreckenstein, Count of Krotenwald, Schnauzestadt, and Galgenhiigel, Hereditary Grand Corkscrew of the Holy Roman Empire — to you, Adolf the Twenty-third, Prince of Cleves, I, Bleu Sanglier, bring war and defiance. Alone, and lance to lance, or twenty to twenty in field or in fort, on plain or on mountain, the noble Rowski defies you. Here, or wherever he shall meet you, he proclaims war to the death between you and him. In token whereof, here is his glove." And taking the steel glove from the page, Blue Boar flung it clanging on the marble floor. The Princess Helen turned deadly pale : but the Prince, with a good assurance, flung down his own glove, calling upon some one to raise the Rowski's : which Otto accordingly took up and presented, to him, on his knee. " Boteler, fiU my goblet," said the Prince to that functionary, who, clothed in tight black hose, with a white kerchief, and a napkin on his dexter arm stood obsequiously by his master's chair. The goblet was filled with Malvoisie : it held about three quarts ; a precious golden hanap carved by the cunning artificer, Benvenuto the Florentine. "Drink, Bleu Sanglier," said the Prince, "and put the goblet in thy bosom. Wear this chain, furthermore, for my sake." And so saying. Prince Adolf flung a precious chain of emeralds round tlie herald's neck. " An invitation to battle was ever a welcome call to Adolf of Cleves." So saying, and bidding his people take good care of Bleu Sanglier's retinue, the Prince left the hall with his daughter. All were marvelling at his dignity, courage, and generosity. But, though afiecting unconcern, the mind of Prince Adolf was far from tranquU. He was no longer the stalwart knight who, in the reign of Stanislaus Augustus, had, with his naked fist, beaten a lion to death in three minutes : and alone had kept the postern of Peterwaradin for two hours against seven hundred Turkish janissaries, THE MARTYR OF LOVE 48* who were assailing it. Those deeds which had made the heir of Cleves famous were done thirty years syne. A free liver since he had come into his principality, and of a lazy turn, he had neglected the athletic exercises which had made him in youth so famous a champion, and indolence had borne its usual fruits. He tried his old battle-sword — that famous blade with which, in Palestine, he had cut an elephant-driver in two pieces, and split asunder the skuU of the elephant which he rode. Adolf of Cleves could scarcely now lift the weapon over his head. He tried his armour. It was too tight for him. And the old soldier burst into tears when he found he could not buckle it. Such a man was not fit to encounter the terrible Rowski in single combat. Nor could he hope to make head against him for any time in the field. The Prince's territories were small; his vassals pro- verbially lazy and peaceable ; his treasury empty. The dismallest prospects were before him : and he passed a sleepless night writing to his friends for succour, and calculating with his secretary the small amount of the resources which he could bring to aid him against his advancing and powerful enemy. Helen's pillow that evening was also unvisited by slumber. She lay awake thinking of Otto, — thinking of the danger and the ruin her refusal to marry had brought upon her dear papa. Otto, too, slept not : but his waking thoughts were brilliant and heroic : the .noble ChUde thought how he should defend the Princess, and win los and honour in the ensuing combat. CHAPTER XII THE CHAMPION A ND now the noble Cleves began in good earnest to prepare his /A castle for the threatened siege. He gathered in all the -* *• available cattle round the property, and the pigs round many miles ; and a dreadful slaughter of horned and snouted animals took place, — the whole castle resounding with the lowing of the oxen and the squeaks of the gruntlings, destined to provide food for the garrison. These, when slain (her gentle spirit, of course, would not allow of her witnessing that disagreeable operation), the lovely Helen, with the assistance of her maidens, carefully salted and pickled. Com was brought in in great quantities, the Prince paying for the same when he had money, giving bills when he could get credit, or occasionally, marry, sending out a few stout men-at-arms to forage, who brought in wheat without money or credit either. The charming Princess, amidst the intervals of her labours, went about encouraging the garrison, who vowed to a man they would die for a single sweet smile of hers ; and in order to make their inevitable sufferings as easy as possible to the gallant fellows, she and the apothecaries got ready a plenty of efficacious simples, and scraped a vast quantity of lint to bind their warriors' wounds withal. All the fortifications were strengthened; the fosses carefully filled with spikes and water; large stones placed over the gates, con- venient to tumble on the heads of the assaulting parties ; and caldrons prepared, with furnaces to melt up pitch, brimstone, boil- ing oil, &c., wherewith hospitably to receive them. Having the keenest eye in the whole garrison, young Otto was placed on the topmost tower, to watch for the expected coming of the beleaguer- ing host. They were seen only too soon. Long ranks of shining spears were seen glittering in the distance, and the army of the Rowski soon made its appearance in battle's magnificently stem array. The tents of the renowned chief and his numerous warriors were pitched out of arrow-shot of the castle, but in fearful proximity; and when his army had taken up its position, an officer with a flag of truce and a tnunpet was seen advancing to the castle gate. It was THE CHAMPION 483 the same herald who had previously borne his master's defiance to the Prince of Cleves. He came once more to the castle gate, and there proclaimed that the noble Count of Eulenschreckenstein was in arms without, ready to do battle with the Prince of Cleves, or his champion ; that he would remain in arms for three days, ready for combat. If no man met him at the end of that period, he would deliver an assault, and would give quarter to no single soul in the garrison. So saying, the herald nailed his lord's gauntlet on the castle gate. As before, the Prince flimg him over another glove from the wall ; though how he was to defend himself from such a warrior, or get a champion, or resist the pitiless assault that must follow, the troubled old nobleman knew not in the least. The Princess Helen passed the night in the chapel, vowing tons of wax candles to all the patron saints of the House of Cleves, if they would raise her up a defender. But how did the noble girl's heart sink — ^how were her notions of the purity of man shaken within her gentle bosom, by the dread intelligence which reached her the next morning, after the defiance of the Bowski ! At roll-call it was discovered that he on whom she principally reUed — he whom her fond heart had singled out as her champion, had proved faithless ! Otto, the degenerate Otto, had fled ! His comrade, Wolfgang, had gone with him. A rope was found dangling from the casement of their chamber, and they must have swum the moat and passed over to the enemy in the darkness of the previous night. "A pretty lad was this fair-spoken archer of thine ! " said the Prince her father to her; "and a pretty kettle offish hast thou cooked for the fondest of fathers." She retired weeping to her apartment. Never before had that young heart felt so wretched. That morning, at nine o'clock, as they were going to breakfast, the Eowski's trumpets sounded. Clad in complete armour, and mounted on his enormous piebald charger, he came out of his pavilion, and rode slowly up and down in front of the castle. He was ready there to meet a champion. Three times each day did the odious trumpet somid the same notes of defiance. Thrice daily did the steel-clad Eowski come forth challengiDg the combat. The first day passed, and there was no answer to his summons. The second day came and went, but no champion had risen to defend. The taunt of his shrill clarion remained without answer; and the sun went down upon the wretchedest father and daughter in aU the land of Christendom. The trumpets sounded an hour after sunrise, an hour after noon, and an hour before sunset. The third day came, but with it brought no hope. The first and second summons met no response. At five 484 A LEGEND OF THE RHINE o'clock the old Prince called his daughter and blessed her. " I go to meet this Rowski," said he. " It may be we shall meet no more, my Helen — my child — the innocent cause of all this grief. If I shall fall to-night the Rowski's victim, 'twill be that life is nothing without honour." And so saying, he put into her hands a dagger, and bade her sheathe it in her own breast so soon as the terrible champion had carried the castle by storm. This Helen most faithfully promised to do ; and her aged father retired to his armoury, and donned his ancient war-worn corselet. It had borne the shock of a thousand lances ere this, but it was now so tight as almost to choke the knightly wearer. The last trumpet sounded — tantara ! tantara ! — its shrill call rang over the wide plains, and the wide plains gave back no answer. Again ! — but when its notes died away, there was only a mournful, an awful silence. " Farewell, my child," said the Prince, bulkily hfting himself into his battle-saddle. "Remember the dagger. Hark ! the trumpet sounds for the third time. Open, warders ! Sound, trumpeters ! and good Saint Bendigo guard the right." But Puffendorff, the trumpeter, had not leisure to lift the trumpet to his Hps : when, hark ! from without there came another note of another clarion ! — a distant note at first, then swelling fuller. Presently, in brilliant variations, the full rich notes of the " Huntsman's Chorus " came clearly over the breeze ; and a thousand voices of the crowd gazing over the gate exclaimed, " A champion ! a champion ! " And, indeed, a champion had come. Issuing from the forest came a knight and squire ; the knight gracefully cantering an elegant cream-coloured Arabian of prodigious power — the squire mounted on an unpretending grey cob ; which, nevertheless, was an animal of considerable strength and sinew. It was the squire who blew the trumpet, through the bars of his helmet ; the knight's visor was completely down. A small prince's coronet of gold, from which rose three pink ostrich-feathers, marked the warrior's rank : his blank shield bore no cognisance. As gracefully poising his lance he rode into the green space where the Rowski's tents were pitched, the hearts of all present beat with anxiety, and the poor Prince of Cleves, especially, had considerable doubts about his new champion. " So slim a figure as that can never compete with Donnerblitz," said he, moodily, to his daughter ; " but whoever he be, the feUow puts a good face on it, and rides like a man. See, he has touched the Rowski's shield with the point of his lance ! By Saint Bendigo, a perilous venture ! " The unknown knight had indeed defied the Rowski to the death, as the Prince of Cleves remarked from the battlement where he and THE CHAMPION 485 his daughter stood to witness the combat ; and so, having defied his enemy, the Incognito galloped round under the castle wall, bowing elegantly to the lovely Princess there, and then took his ground and waited for the foe. His armour blazed in the sunshine as he sat there, motionless, on his cream-coloured steed. He looked like one of those fairy knights one has read of — one of those celestial champions who decided so many victories before the invention of gunpowder. The Eowski's horse was speedily brought to the door of his pavilion ; and that redoubted warrior, blazing in a suit of magnificent brass armour, clattered into his saddle. Long waves of blood-red feathers bristled over his helmet, which was further ornamented by two huge horns of the aurochs. His lance was painted white and red, and he whirled the prodigious beam in the air and caught it with savage glee. He laughed when he saw the slim form of his antagonist; and his soul rejoiced to meet the coming battle. He dug his spurs into the enormous horse he rode : the enormous horse snorted, and squealed, too, with fierce pleasure. He jerked and curvetted him with a brutal playfulness, and after a few minutes turning and wheeling, during which everybody had leisure to admire the perfection of his equitation, he cantered round to a point exactly opposite his enemy, and pulled up his impatient charger. The old Prince on the battlement was so eager for the combat, that he seemed quite to forget the danger which menaced himself, should his slim champion be discomfited by the tremendous Knight of Donnerblitz. " Go it ! " said he, flinging his truncheon into the ditch ; and at the word, the two warriors rushed with whirling rapidity at each other. And now ensued a combat so terrible, that a weak female hand, like that of her who pens this tale of chivalry, can never hope to do justice to the terrific theme. You have seen two engines on the Great Western line rush past each other with a pealing scream? So rapidly did the two warriors gallop towards one another ; the feathers of either streamed yards behind their backs as they con- verged. Their shock as they met was as that of two cannon-balls ; the mighty horses trembled and reeled with the concussion ; the lance aimed at the Rowski's helmet bore off the coronet, the horns, the helmet itself, and hurled them to an incredible distance : a piece of the Eowski's left ear was carried off on the point of the nameless warrior's weapon. How had he fared? His adversary's weapon had glanced harmless along the blank surface of his polished buckler : and the victory so far was with him. The expression of the Rowski's face, as, bareheaded, he glared on his enemy with fierce bloodshot eyeballs, was one worthy of a 486 A LEGEND OF THE EHINE demon. The imprecatory expressions which he made use of can never be copied by a feminine pen. His opponent magnanimously declined to take advantage of the opportunity thus offered him of finishing the combat by splitting his opponent's skull with his curtal-axe, and, riding back to his starting- place, bent his lance's point to the ground, in token that he would wait until the Count of Eulenschreckenstein was helmeted afresh. " Blessed Bendigo ! " cried the Prince, " thou art a gallant lance : but why didst not rap the Schelm's brain out ? " " Bring me a fresh helmet ! " yelled the Rowski. Another casque was brought to him by his trembling squire. As soon as he had braced it, he drew his great flashing sword from his side, and rushed at his enemy, roaring hoarsely his cry of battle. The unknown knight's sword was unsheathed in a moment, and at the next the two blades were clanking together the dreadful music of the combat ! The Donnerblitz wielded his with his usual savageness and activity. It whirled roimd his adversary's head with frightful rapidity. Now it carried away a feather of his plume ; now it shore off a leaf of his coronet. The flail of the thresher does not fall more swiftly upon the corn. For many minutes it was the Unknown's only task to defend himself from the tremendous activity of the enemy. But even the Eowski's strength would slacken after exertion. The blows began to fall less thick anon, and the point of the unknown knight began to make dreadful play. It found and pene- trated every joint of the Donnerblitz armour. Now it nicked him in the shoidder, where the vambrace was buckled to the corselet ; now it bored a shrewd hole under the light brassart, and blood followed ; now, with fatal dexterity, it darted through the visor, and came back to the recover deeply tinged with blood. A scream of rage followed the last thrust ; and no wonder : — it had penetrated the Eowski's left eye. His blood was trickling through a dozen orifices ; he was almost choking in his helmet with loss of breath, and loss of blood, and rage. Gasping with fury, he drew back his horse, flung his great sword at his opponent's head, and once more plunged at him, wielding his curtal-axe. Then you should have seen the unknown knight employing the same dreadful weapon ! Hitherto he had been on his defence ; now he began the attack ; and the gleaming axe whirred in his hand like a reed, but descended like a thunderbolt ! " Yield ! yield ! Sir Rowski," shouted he in a calm clear voice. A blow dealt madly at his head was the reply, 'Twas the last THE CHAMPION 48? blow that the Count of Eulenschreckenstein ever struck in battle ! The curse was on his lips as the crushing steel descended into his brain, and split it in two. He rolled like a log from his horse ; his enemy's knee was in a moment on his chest, and the dagger of mercy at his throat, as the knight once more called upon him to yield. But there was no answer from within the helmet. When it was withdrawn, the teeth were crunched together ; the mouth that should have spoken, grinned a ghastly silence : one eye still glared with hate and fury, but it was glazed with the film of death ! The red orb of the sun was just then dipping into the Khine. The unknovm knight, vaulting once more into his saddle, made a graceful obeisance to the Prince of Cleves and his daughter, without a word, and galloped back into the forest, whence he had issued an hour before sunset. CHAPTER XIII THE MARRIAGE THE consternation which ensued on the death of the Eowski speedily sent all his camp-followers, army, &c., to the right- about. They strack their tents at the first news of his dis- comfiture ; and each man laying hold of what he could, the whole of the gallant force which had marched under his banner in the morning had disappeared ere the sun rose. On that night, as it may be imagined, the gates of the Castle of Cleves were not shut. Everybody was free to come in. Wine-butts were broached in all the courts ; the pickled meat prepared in such lots for the siege was distributed among the people, who crowded to congratulate their beloved sovereign on his victory ; and the Prince, as was customary with that good man, who never lost an oppor- tunity of giving a dinner-party, had a splendid entertainment made ready for the upper classes, the whole concluding with a tasteful dis- play of fireworks. In the midst of these entertainments, our old friend the Count of Hombourg arrived at the castle. The stalwart old warrior swore by Saint Bugo that he was grieved the kiUing of the Eowski had been taken out of his hand. The laughing Cleves vowed by Saint Bendigo, Hombourg could never have finished off his enemy so satisfactorily as the unknown knight had just done. But who was he? was the question which now agitated the bosom of these two old nobles. How to find him — how to reward the champion and restorer of the honour and happiness of Cleves 1 They agreed over supper that he should be sought for everywhere. Beadles were sent round the principal cities within fifty miles, and the description of the knight advertised in the Journal de Franc- fort and the Allgemeine Zeitung. The hand of the Princess Helen was solemnly offered to him in these advertisements, with the re- version of the Prince of Cleves's splendid though somewhat dilapi- dated property. "But we don't know him, my dear papa," faintly ejaculated that young lady. "Some impostor may come in a suit of plain armour, and pretend that he was the champion who overcame the THE MARRIAGE 489 Rowski (a prince who had his faults certainly, but whose attach- ment for me I can never forget) ; and how are you to say whether he is the real knight or not ? There are so many deceivers in this world," added the Princess, in tears, "that one can't be too cautious now." The fact is, that she was thinking of the desertion of Otto in the morning ; by which instance of faithlessness her heart was well-nigh broken. As for that youth and his comrade Wolfgang, to the astonish- ment of everybody at their impudence, they came to the archers' mess that night, as if nothing had happened; got their supper, partaking both of meat and drink most plentifully ; fell asleep when their comrades began to describe the events of the day, and the admirable achievements of the unknown warrior ; and, turning into their hammocks, did not appear on parade in the morning until twenty minutes after the names were called. When the Prince of Cleves heard of the return of these deserters, he was in a towering passion. " Where were you, fellows," shouted he, " during the time my castle was at its utmost need ? " Otto replied, " We were out on particular business." "Does a soldier leave his post on the day of battle, sir?" exclaimed the Prince. " You know the reward of such — Death ! and death you merit. But you are a soldier only of yesterday, and yesterday's victory has made me merciful. Hanged you shall not be, as you merit — only flogged, both of you. Parade the men, Colonel Tickelstem, after breakfast, and give these scoundrels five hundred apiece." You should have seen how young Otto bounded, when this information was thus abruptly conveyed to him. "Flog me I" cried he. " Flog Otto of " "Not so, my father," said the Princess Helen, who had been standing by during the conversation, and who had looked at Otto all the while vrith the most inefiable scorn. " Not so : although these persons have forgotten their duty " (she laid a particularly sarcastic emphasis on the word persons), " we have had no need of their services, and have luckily found others more faithful. You promised your daughter a boon, papa : it is the pardon of these two persons. Let them go, and quit a service they have disgraced ; a mistress — that is, a master — they have deceived." " Drum 'em out of the castle, Tickelstem ; strip their uniforms from their backs, and never let me hear of the scoundrels again." So saying, the old Prince angrily turned on his heel to breakfast, leaving the two young men to the fim and derision of their sur- rounding comrades. The noble Count of Hombourg, who was taking his usual airing 49© A LEGEND OF THE HHINE on the ramparts before breakfast, came up at this juncture, and asked what was the row? Otto blushed when he saw him, and turned away rapidly ; but the Count, too, catching a glimpse of him, with a himdred exclamations of joyM surprise seized upon the lad, hugged him to his manly breast, kissed him most affectionately, and almost burst into tears as he embraced him. For, in sooth, the good Count had thought his godson long ere this at the bottom of the silver Rhine. The Prince of Cleves, who had come to the breakfast-parlour window (to invite his guest to enter, as the tea was made), beheld this strange scene from the window, as did the lovely tea-maker likewise, with breathless and beautiful agitation. The old Count and the archer strolled up and down the battlements in deep con- versation. By the gestures of surprise and delight exhibited by the former, 'twas easy to see the young archer was conveying some very strange and pleasing news to him ; though the nature of the con- versation was not allowed to transpire. "A godson of mine," said the noble Count, when interrogated over his muffins. " I know his family ; worthy people ; sad scape- grace ; ran away ; parents longing for him ; glad you did not flog him ; devil to pay," and so forth. The Count was a man of few words, and told his tale in this brief artless manner. But why, at its conclusion, did the gentle Helen leave the room, her eyes filled with tears 1 She left the room once more to kiss a certain lock of yellow hair she had pilfered. A dazzling delicious thought, a strange wild hope, arose in her soul ! When she appeared again, she made some side-handed inquiries regarding Otto (with that gentle artifice oft employed by women) ; but he was gone. He and his companion were gone. The Count of Hombourg had likewise taken his departure, under pretext of particular business. How lonely the vast castle seemed to Helen, now that he was no longer there. The transactions of the last few days ; the beautiful archer-boy ; the offer from the Rowski (always an event in a young lady's life) ; the siege of the castle ; the death of her truculent admirer : all seemed like a fevered dream to her : all was passed away, and had left no trace behind. No trace? — yes ! one : a little insignificant lock of golden hair, over which the young creature wept so much that she put it out of curl ; passing hours and hours in the summer-house where the operation had been performed. On the second day (it is my belief she would have gone into a consumption and died of languor, if the event had been delayed a day longer) a messenger, with a trumpet, brought a letter in haste to the Prince of Cleves, who was, as usual, taking refreshment. THE MARRIAGE 49' "To the High and Mighty Prince," &c., the letter ran. "The Champion who had the honour of engaging on Wednesday last with his late Excellency the Rowski of Donnerblitz, presents his compli- ments to H.S.H. the Prince of Oleves. Through the medium of the public prints the 0. has been made acquainted with the flattering proposal of His Serene Highness relative to a union between himself (the Champion) and Her Serene Highness the Princess Helen of Cleves. The Champion accepts with pleasure that polite invitation, and will have the honour of waiting upon the Prince and Princess of Cleves about half-an-hoiu: after the receipt of this letter." " Tol lol de rol, girl," shouted the Prince with heartfelt joy. (Have you not remarked, dear friend, how often in novel-books, and on the stage, joy is announced by the above burst of insensate monosyllables 1) " Tol lol de rol. Don thy best kirtle, child ; thy husband wiU be here anon." And Helen retired to arrange her toilet for this awfiil event in the life of a young woman. When she returned, attired to welcome her defender, her young cheek was as pale as the white satin slip and orange sprigs she wore. She was scarce seated on the dais by her father's side, when a huge flourish of trumpets from without proclaimed the arrival of the Champion. Helen felt quite sick : a draught of ether was necessary to restore her tranquillity. The great door was flung open. He entered, — the same tall warrior, slim and beautiful, blazing in shining steel. He approached the Prince's throne, supported on each side by a Mend likewise in armour. He knelt gracefully on one knee. " I come," said he, in a voice trembling with emotion, " to claim, as per advertisement, the hand of the lovely Lady Helen." And he held out a copy of the Allgemeine Zeitimg as he spoke. " Art thou noble. Sir Knight % " asked the Prince of Oleves. " As noble as yourself," answered the kneeling steel. " Who answers for thee 1 " " I, Karl, Margrave of Godesberg, his father ! " said the knight on the right hand, lifting up his visor. " And I — Ludwig, Count of Hombourg, his godfather ! " said the knight on the left, doing likewise. The kneeling knight lifted up his visor now, and looked on Helen. " r knew it was," said she, and fainted as she saw Otto the Archer. But she was soon brought to, gentles, as I have small need to teU ye. In a very few days after, a great marriage took place at Cleves, under the patronage of Saint Bugo, Saint Buffo, and Saint Bendigo. After the marriage ceremony, the happiest and hand- 492 A LEGEND OF THE RHINE Bomest pair in tlie world drove oif in a chaise-and-four, to pass the honeymoon at Kissingen. The Lady Theodora, whom we left locked up in her convent a long while since, was prevailed upon to come back to Godesberg, where she was reconciled to her husband. Jealous of her daughter-in-law, she idolised her son, and spoiled all her little grandchildren. And so all are happy, and my simple tale is done. I read it in an old old book, in a mouldy old circulating library. 'Twas written in the French tongue, by the noble Alexandre Dumas ; but 'tis probable that he stole it from some other, and that the other had filched it from a former tale-teller. For nothing is new under the sun. Things die and are reproduced only. And so it is that the forgotten tale of the great Dumas reappears under the signature of Theresa MacWhibtee. Whistlebinkie, N.B. : December 1. CHARACTER SKETCHES CHARACTER SKETCHES CAPTAIN ROOK AND MR. PIGEON THE statistic-mongers and dealers in geography have calculated to a nicety how many quartern loaves, bars of iron, pigs of lead, sacks of wool, Turks, Quakers, Methodists, Jews, Catholics, and Chiu-ch-of-England men are consumed or produced in the diflferent countries of this wicked world : I should like to see an accurate table showing the rogues and dupes of each nation ; the calculation would form a pretty matter for a philosopher to speculate upon. The mind loves to repose and broods benevolently over this expanded theme. What thieves are there in Paris, heavens ! and what a power of rogues with pigtails and mandarin buttons at Pekin ! What crowds of swindlers are there at this very moment pursuing their trade at St. Petersburg ! how many scoundrels are saying their prayers alongside of Don Carlos ! how many scores are jobbing under the pretty nose of Queen Christina ! what an in- ordinate number of rascals is there, to be sure, puffing tobacco and drinking flat smaU-beer in all the capitals of Germany; or else, without a rag to their ebony backs, swigging quass out of cala- bashes, and smeared over with palm-oil, lolling at the doors of clay huts in the sunny city of Timbuctoo ! It is not necessary to make any more topographical allusions, or, for illustrating the above position, to go through the whole Gazetteer ; but he is a bad philo sopher who has not aU these things in mind, and does not in his speculations or his estimate of mankind duly consider and weigh them. And it is fine and consolatory to think that thoughtful Nature, which has provided sweet flowers for the humming bee; fair nmning streams for glittering fish ; store of kids, deer, goats, and other fresh meat for roaring lions ; for active eats, mice ; for mice, cheese, and so on ; establishing throughout the whole of her realm the great doctrine that where a demand is, there will be a supply (see the romances of Adam Smith, Malthus, and Ricardo, and the philoso-' 496 CHAEAOTEE SKETCHES phical works of Miss Martineau) : I say it is consolatory to think that, as Nature has provided flies for tlie food of fishes, and flowers for bees, so she has created fools for rogues ; and thus the scheme is consistent throughout. Yes, observation, with extensive view, will discover Captain Eooks aU over the world, and Mr. Pigeons made for their benefit. Wherever shines the sun, you are sure to find Folly basking in it ; and knavery is the shadow at Folly's heels. It is not, however, necessary to go to St. Petersburg or Pekin for rogues (and in truth I don't know whether the Timbuctoo Captain Eooks prefer cribbage or billiards). " We are not birds," as the Irishman says, " to be in half-a-dozen places at once ; " so let us pretermit all considerations of rogues in other countries, examin- ing only those who flourish under our very noses. I have travelled much, and seen many men and cities ; and, in truth, I think that our country of England produces the best soldiers, sailors, razors, tailors, brewers, hatters, and rogues of all. Especially there is no cheat like an English cheat. Our society produces them in the greatest numbers as well as of the greatest excellence. We supply all Europe with them. I defy you to point out a great city of the Continent where half-a-dozen of them are not to be found : proofs of our enterprise and samples of our home manufacture. Try Eome, Cheltenham, Baden, Toeplitz, Madrid, or Tzarskoselo : I have been in every one of them, and give you my honour that the Englishman is the best rascal to be found in all : better than your eager Frenchman ; yoiir swaggering Irishman, with a red velvet waistcoat and red whiskers ; your grave Spaniard, with horrid goggle eyes and profuse diamond shirt-pins ; your tallow-faced German baron, vrith white moustache and double chin, fat, pudgy, dirty fingers, and great gold thumb- ring ; better even than your nondescript Eussian — swindler and spy as he is by loyalty and education — the most dangerous antagonist we have. Who has the best coat even at Vienna? who has the neatest britzska at Baden 1 who drinks the best champagne at Paris? Captain Eook, to be sure, of Her Britannic Majesty's service : — he has been of the service, that is to say, but often finds it convenient to sell out. The life of a blackleg, which is the name contemptuously applied to Captain Eook in his own country, is such an easy, comfortable, careless, merry one, that I can't conceive why all the world do not turn Captain Eooks ; unless, maybe, there are some mysteries and difiiculties in it which the vulgar know nothing of, and which only men of real genius can overcome. Call on Captain Eook in the day (in London, he lives about St. James's; abroad, he has the very best rooms in the very best hotels), and you will find him at one o'clock dressed in the very finest robe-de-chambre, before a CAPTAIN ROOK AND MR. PIGEON 497 breakfast-table covered witli the prettiest patties and delicacies possible; smoking, perhaps, one of the biggest meerschaum pipes you ever saw ; reading, possibly, the Morning Post, or a novel (he has only one volume in his whole room, and that from a circulating library) ; or having his hair dressed ; or talking to a tailor about waistcoat patterns ; or drinking soda-water with a glass of sherry j all this he does every morning, and it does not seem very difi&cult, and lasts until three. At three, he goes to a horse-dealer's, and lounges there for half-an-hour ; at four he is to be seen at the window of his Club ; at five, he is cantering and curvetting in Hyde Park with one or two more (he does not know any ladies, but has many male acquaintances : some, stout old gentlemen riding cobs, who knew his family, and give him a surly grunt of recogni- tion ; some, very young lads with pale dissolute faces, little mous- taches perhaps, or at least little tufts on their chin, who hail him eagerly as a man of fashion) : at seven, he has a dinner at " Long's " or at the " Clarendon " ; and so to bed very likely at five in the morning, after a quiet game of whist, broiled bones, and punch. Perhaps he dines early at a tavern in Covent Garden ; after which, you will see him at the theatre in a private box (Captain Rook affects the Olympic a good deal). In the box, besides him- self, you wiU remark a young man — very young — one of the lads who spoke to him in the Park this morning, and a couple of ladies : one shabby, melancholy, raw-boned, with numberless small white ringlets, large hands and feet, and a faded light-blue sUk gown; she has a large cap, trimmed with yellow, and aU sorts of crumpled flowers and greasy blonde lace ; she wears large gilt earrings, and sits back, and nobody speaks to her, and she to nobody, except to say, " Law, Maria, how well you do look to-night ; there's a man opposite has been staring at you this three hours ; I'm blest if it isn't him as we saw in the Park, dear ! " " I wish, Hanna, you'd 'old your tongue, and not bother me about the men. You don't believe Miss 'Ickman, Freddy, do you 1 " says Maria, smiling fondly on Freddy. Maria is sitting in front : she says she is twenty-three, though Miss Hickman knows very well she is thirty-one (Freddy is just of age). She wears a purple velvet gown, three different gold bracelets on each arm, as many rings on each finger of each hand ; to one is hooked a gold smelling-bottle : she has an enormous fan, a laced pocket-handkerchief, a Cashmere shawl, which is continually falling off", and exposing, very unneces- sarily, a pair of very white shoulders : she talks loud, always lets her playbiU drop into the pit, and smells most pungently of Mr. Delcroix's shop. After this description it is not at all necessary to say who Maria is : Miss Hickman is her companion, and they live 498 OHARACTEK SKETCHES together in a very snug little house in Mayfair, which has just been new-fumished a la Louis Quatorze by Freddy, as we are positively informed. It is even said that the little carriage, with two little white ponies, which Maria drives herself in such a fascinating way through the Park, was purchased for her by Freddy too ; ay, and that Captain Book got it for him — a great bargain, of course. Such is Captain Book's life. Can anything be more easy*! Suppose Maria says, " Come home. Rook, and heat a cold chicken with us, and a glass of hiced champagne ; " and suppose he goes, and after chicken — just for fun — Maria proposes a little chicken- hazard ; — she only plays for shillings, while Freddy, a little bolder, won't mind half-pound stakes himself. Is there any great harm in aU this? Well, after half-an-hour Maria grows tired, and Miss Hickman has been nodding asleep in the corner long ago ; so off the two ladies set, candle in hand. " D — ^n it, Fred," says Captain Rook, pouring out for that young gentleman his fifteenth glass of champagne, " what luck you are in, if you did but know how to back it ! " What more natural, and even kind, of Rook than to say this 1 Fred is evidently an inexperienced player; and every experienced player knows that there is nothing like backing your luck. Freddy does. Well, fortune is proverbially variable ; and it is not at all surprising that Freddy, after having had so much luck at the com- mencement of the evening, should have the tables turned on him at some time or other. — Freddy loses. It is deuced unlucky, to be sure, that he should have won all the little cowps and lost all the great ones ; but there is a plan which the commonest play-man knows, an infallible means of retrieving yourself at play : it is simply doubling your stake. Say, you lose a guinea : you bet two guineas, which, if you win, you win a guinea and your original stake : if you lose, you have but to bet four guineas on the third stake, eight on the fourth, sixteen on the fifth, thirty- two on the sixth, and so on. It stands to reason that you cannot lose always ; and the very first time you win, all your losings are made up to you. There is but one drawback to this infallible process : if you begin at a guinea, double every time you lose, and lose fifteen times, you wiU have lost exactly sixteen thousand three hundred and eighty-four guineas ; a sum which probably exceeds the amount of your yearly income : — mine is considerably imder that figure. Freddy does not play this game then, yet ; but being a poor- spirited creature, as we have seen he must be by being afraid to win, he is equally poor-spirited when he begins to lose : he is frightened ; that is, increases his stakes, and backs his ill-luck : when a man does this, it is all over with him. CAPTAIN EOOK AND ME. PIGEON 499 When Captain Eook goes home (the sun is peering through the shutters of the little drawing-room in Curzon Street, and the ghastly footboy — oh, how bleared his eyes look as he opens the door !) — when Captain Rook goes home, he has Freddy's I.O.U.'s in his pocket to the amount, say, of three hundred poimds. Some people say that Maria has half of the money when it is paid ; but this I don't believe : is Captain Rook the kind of fellow to give up a purse when his hand has once clawed hold of it 1 Be this, however, true or not, it concerns us very little. The ■Captain goes home to King Street, plunges into bed much too tired to say his prayers, and wakes the next morning at twelve to go over such another day as we have just chalked out for him. As for Freddy, not poppy, nor mandragora, nor all the soda-water at the chemist's can ever medicine him to that sweet sleep which he might have had but for his loss. "Ifl had but played my king of hearts," sighed Fred, " and kept back my trump ; but there's no standing against a fellow who turns up a king seven times running : if I had even but pulled up when Thomas (curse him !) brought up that infernal Cura^oa punch, I should have saved a couple of hundred," and so on go Freddy's lamentations. luckless Freddy ! dismal Freddy ! siUy gaby of a Freddy ! you are hit now, and there is no cure for you but bleeding you almost to death's door. The homoeo- pathic maxim of similia similibus — which means, I believe, that you are to be cured " by a hair of the dog that bit you " — must be put in practice with regard to Freddy — only not in homceopathic infini- tesimal doses : no hair of the dog that bit him : but vice versd, the dog of the hair that tickled him. Freddy has begun to play — a mere trifle at first, but he must play it out ; he must go the whole dog now, or there is no chance for him. He must play until he can play no more ; he will play until he has not a shilling left to play with, when, perhaps, he may turn out an honest man, though the odds are against him : the betting is in favovu' of his being a swindler always ; a rich or a poor one, as the case may be. I need not tell Freddy's name, I think, now ; it stands on his' card : — Me. FREDERICK PIGEON, LONG S HOTEL. I have said the chances are that Frederick Pigeon, Esquire, will become a rich or a poor swindler, though the first chance, it must 500 CHARACTER SKETCHES be confessed, is very remote. I once heard an actor, who could not write, speak, or even read English ; who was not fit for any trade in the world, and had not the " nous " to keep an apple-staU, and scarcely even enough sense to make a Member of Parliament ; I once, I say, heard an actor, — whose only qualifications were a large pair of legs, a large voice, and a very large neck, — curse his fate and his profession, by which, do what he would, he could only make eight guineas a week. "No men," said he, with a great deal of justice, " were so ill paid as ' dramatic artists ' ; they laboured for nothing all their youth, and had no provision for old age." With this, he sighed, and called for (it was on a Saturday night, the forty- ninth glass of brandy-and-water which he had drunk in the course of the week. The excitement of his profession, I make no doubt, caused my friend Claptrap to consume this quantity of spirit-and-water, besides beer in the morning, after rehearsal ; and I could not help musing over his fate. It is a hard one. To eat, drink, work a little, and be jolly ; to be paid twice as much as you are worth, and then to go to ruin ; to drop off the tree when you are swelled out, seedy, and over-ripe ; and to lie rotting in the mud underneath, until at last you mingle with it. Now, badly as the actor is paid (and the reader wUl the more readily pardon the above episode, because, in reality, it has nothing to do with the subject in hand), and luckless as his fate is, the lot of the poor blackleg is cast lower still. You never hear of a rich gambler; or of one who wins in the end. Where does aU the money go to which is lost among them ? Did you ever play a game at loo for sixpences ? At the end of the night a great many of those small coins have been lost, and in consequence, won. But ask the table all round : one man has won three shillings ; two have neither lost nor won ; one rather thinks he has lost ; and the three others have lost two pounds each. Is not this the fact, known to every- body who indulges in round games, and especially the noble game of loo 1 I often think that the devil's books, as cards are called, are let out to us from Old Nick's circulating hbrary, and that he lays his paw upon a certain part of the winnings, and carries it off privily : else, what becomes of all the money 1 For instance, there is the gentleman whom the newspapers call " a noble earl of sporting celebrity " ; — if he has lost a shilling, according to the newspaper accounts, he has lost fifty nullions : he drops fifty thousand pounds at the Derby, just as you and I would lay down twopence-hal^enny for half an ounce of Macabaw. Who has won these millions ] Is it Mr. Crockford, or Mr. Bond, or Mr. Salon-des-Etrangers 1 (I do not caU these latter gentlemen gamblers. CAPTAIN ROOK AND MR. PIGEON 501 for their speculation is a certainty) ; but who wins his money, and everybody else's money who plays and loses? Much money is staked in the absence of Mr. Crockford; many notes are given without the interference of the Bonds; there are hundreds of thousands of gamblers who are etrcmgers even to the Salon-des- Etrangers. No, my dear sir, it is not in the public gambling-houses that the money is lost ; it is not in them that your virtue is chiefly in danger. Better by half lose your income, your fortune, or your master's money, in a decent public hell, than in the private society of such men as my friend Captain Rook. But we are again and again digressing : the point is, is the Captain's trade a good one, and does it yield tolerably good interest for outlay and capital 1 To the latter question first : — at this very season of May, when the Rooks are very young, have you not, my dear friend, often tasted them in pies ?— they are then so tender that you cannot tell the difference between them and pigeons. So, in like manner, our Rook has been in his youth undistinguishable from a pigeon. He does as he has been done by : yea, he has been plucked as even now he plucks his friend Mr. Frederick Pigeon. Say that he began the world with ten thousand pounds : every maravedi of this is gone ; and may be considered as the capital, which he has sacrificed to learn his trade. Having spent £10,000, then, on an annuity o jE650, he must look to a larger interest for his money — say fifteen hundred, two thousand, or three thousand pounds, decently to repay his risk and labour. Besides the money sunk in the first place, his profession requires continual annual outlays, as thus — Horses, carriages (including Epsom, Goodwood, Ascot, &c.) . . Lodgings, servants, and board Watering-places, and touring Dinners to give Pocket-money . Gloves, handkerchiefs, perfumery, and tobacco (very moderate) . Tailor's bills (£100 say, never paid) Total . . . £1,600 O O £500 350 300 150 150 150 I defy any man to carry on the profession in a decent way under the above sum : ten thousand sunk, and sixteen hundred annual expenses ; no, it is not a good profession : it is not good interest for one's money ; it is not a fair remuneration for a gentleman of birth. 502 CHAEAOTER SKETCHES industry, and genius; and my friend Claptrap, who growls about his pay, may bless his eyes that he was not bom a gentleman and bred up to such an unprofitable calling as this. Considering his trouble, his outlay, his birth, and breeding, the Captain is most wickedly and basely rewarded. And when he is obliged to retreat, when his hand trembles, his credit is fallen, his bills laughed at by every money-lender in Europe, his tailors rampant and inexorable — in fact, when the covpe of life will sauter for him no more — who will help the play-worn veteran? As Mitchel sings after Aristophanes — " In glory he was seen, when his years as yet were green ; But now when his dotage is on him, God help him ; — for no eye of those who pass him by Throws a look of compassion upon him." Who indeed will help him? — not his family, for he has bled his father, his uncle, his old grandmother ; he has had slices out of his sisters' portions, and quarrelled with his brothers-in-law; the old people are dead; the young ones hate him, and will give him nothing. Who will help him ? — not his friends : in the first place, my dear sir, a man's friends very seldom do : in the second place, it is Captain Rook's business not to keep, but to give up his friends. His acquaintances do not last more than a year : the time, namely, during which he is employed in plucking them ; then they part. Pigeon has not a single feather left to his tail, and how should he help Rook, whom, au reste, he has learned to detest most cordially, and has found out to be a rascal ? When Rook's ill day comes, it is simply because he has no more friends ; he has exhausted them aU, plucked every one as clean as the palm of your hand. And to arrive at this conclusion, Rook has been spending sixteen hundred a year, and the prime of his life, and has moreover sunk ten thousand pounds ! Is this a proper reward for a gentleman ? I say it is a sin and a shame that an Enghsh gentleman should be allowed thus to drop down the stream without a single hand to help him. The moral of the above remarks I take to be this : that black- legging is as bad a trade as can be ; and so let parents and guardians look to it, and not apprentice their children to such a vUlainous scurvy way of living. It must be confessed, however, that there are some individuals who have for the profession such a natural genius, that no entreaties or example of parents will keep them from it, and no restraint or occupation occasioned by another caUing. They do what Christians do not do : they leave all to follow their master the Devil ; they cut friends, families, and good, thriving, profitable trades, to put CAPTAIN EOOK AND MK. PmEON 503 up with this one, that is both unthrifty and unprofitable. They are in 'regiments : ugly whispers about certain midnight games at blind-hookey, and a few odd bargains in horseflesh, are borne abroad, and Comet Rook receives the gentlest hint in the world that he had better sell out. They ai-e in counting-houses with a promise of partnership, for which papa is to lay down a handsome premium; but the firm of Hobbs, Bobbs & Higgory can never admit a young gentleman who is a notorious gambler, is much oftener at the races than at his desk, and has bills daily falling due at his private banker's. The father, that excellent old man, Sam Eook, so well known on 'Change in the war-time, discovers, at the end of five years, that his son has spent rather more than the four thousand pounds intended for his partnership, and cannot, in common justice to his other thirteen children, give him a shilling more. A pretty pass for flash young Tom Rook, with foiu: horses in stable, a protemporaneous Mrs. Eook, very likely, in an estabhshment near the Regent's Park, and a bill for three hundred and seventy-five pounds coming due on the fifth of next month. Sometimes young Eook is destined to the bar : and I am glad to introduce one of these gentlemen and his history to the notice of the reader. He was the son of an amiable gentleman, the Eeverend Athanasius Eook, who took high honours at Cambridge in the year '1 : was a fellow of Trinity in the yesar '2 : and so con- tinued a fellow and tutor of the College until a living fell vacant, on which he seized. It was only two himdred and fifty pounds a year; but the fact is, Athanasius was in love. Miss Gregory, a pretty, demure, simple governess at Miss Mickle's establishment for young ladies in Cambridge (where the reverend gentleman used often of late to take his tea), had caught the eye of the honest College tutor : and in Trinity walks, and up and down the Trumpington Road, he walked with her (and another young lady, of course), talked with her, and told his love. Miss Gregory had not a rap, as might be imagined ; but she loved Athanasius with her whole soul and strength, and was the most orderly, cheerful, tender, smiling, bustling little wife that ever a country parson was blest withal. Athanasius took a couple of pupils at a couple of hundred- guineas each, and so made out a snug income ; ay, and laid by for a rainy day — a little portion for Harriet, when she should grow up and marry, and a help for Tom at college and at the bar. For you must know there were two little Rooks now growing in the rookery ; and very happy were father and mother I can tell you, to put meat down their tender little throats. Oh, if ever a man was good and happy, it was Athanasius ; if ever a 504 CHARACTER SKETCHES woman was happy and good, it was his wife : not the whole parish, not the whole county, not the whole kingdom, could produce such a snug rectory, or such a pleasant manage. Athanasius's fame as a scholar, too, was great; and as his charges were very high, and as he received but two pupils, there was, of course, much anxiety among wealthy parents to place their children under his care. Future squires, bankers, yea, lords and dukes, came to profit by his instructions, and were led by him gracefully over the "Asses' bridge" into the sublime regions of mathematics, or through the syntax into the pleasant paths of classic lore. In the midst of these companions, Tom Rook grew up ; more fondled and petted, of course, than they; cleverer than they; as handsome, dashing, well instructed a lad for his years as ever went to College to be a senior wrangler, and went down without any such honour. Fancy, then, our young gentleman installed at College, whither his father has taken him, and with fond veteran recollections has surveyed hall and grass-plots, and the old porter, and the old fountain, and the old rooms in which he used to live. Fancy the sobs of good little Mrs. Rook, as she parted with her boy; and the tears of sweet pale Harriet, as she clung round his neck, and brought him (in a silver paper, slobbered with many tears) a little crimson silk purse (with two guineas of her own in it, poor thing !). Fancy all this, and fancy young Tom, sorry too, but yet restless and glad, panting for the new life opening upon him ; the freedom, the joy of the manly struggle for fame, which he vows he wiU win. Tom Rook, in other words, is installed at Trinity College, attends lectures, reads at home, goes to chapel, uses wine- parties moderately, and bids fair to be one of the topmost men of his year. Tom goes down for the Christmas vacation. (What a man he is grown, and how his sister and mother quarrel which shall walk with him down the village ; and what stories the old gentleman lugs out with his old port, and how he quotes JBschylus, to be sure !) The pupils are away too, and the three have Tom in quiet. Alas ! I fear the place has grown a little too quiet for Tom : how- ever, he reads very stoutly of mornings ; and sister Harriet peeps with a great deal of wonder into huge books of scribbling-paper, containing many strange diagrams, and complicated arrangements of x'& and y'&. May comes, and the College examinations ; the delighted parent receives at breakfast, on the 10th of that month, two letters, as follows : — ■ CAPTAIN KOOK AND MR. PIGEON 505 From the Rev, Solomon Snorter to the Rev. Athanasius Rook. "Trinity, May 10. " Dear Credo,* — I wish you joy. Your lad is the best man of his year, and I hope in four more to see him at our table. In classics he is, my dear friend, facile princeps ; in mathematics he was run hard {entre nous) by a lad of the name of Snick, a West- moreland man and a sizer. We must keep up Thomas to his mathematics, and I have no doubt we shall make a fellow and a wrangler of him. "I send you his college bill, £105, 10s. : rather heavy, but this is the first term, and that you know is expensive : I shall be glad to give you a receipt for it. By the way, the young man is rather too fond of amusement, and lives with a very expensive set. Give him a lecture on this score. — Yours, Sol. Snorter." Next comes Mr. Tom Eook's own letter : it is long, modest ; we only give the postscript : — " P.S. — Dear Father, I forgot to say that, as I live in the very best set in the University (Lord Bagwig, the Duke's eldest son you know, vows he will give me a living), I have been led into one or two expenses which will frighten you : I lost £30 to the Honourable Mr. Deuceace (a son of Lord Crabs) at Bagwig's, the other day, at dinner ; and owe £54 more for desserts and hiring horses, which I can't send into Snorter's bill.f Hiring horses is so deuced expensive; next term I must have a nag of my own, that's positive." The Reverend Athanasius read the postscript with much less gusto than the letter : however, Tom has done his duty, and the old gentleman won't balk his pleasure; so he sends him £100, with a " God bless you ! " and Mamma adds, in a postscript, that " he must always keep well with his aristocratic friends, for he was made only for the best society." A year or two passes on : Tom comes home for the vacations ; but Tom has sadly changed ; he has grown haggard and pale. At the second year's examination (owing to an unlucky illness) Tom was not classed at all; and Snick, the Westmoreland man, has carried everything before him. Tom drinks more after dinner than his father likes; he is always riding about and dining in the * This is most probably a joke on the Christian name of Mr. Rook. f It is, or was, the custom for young gentlemen at Cambridge to have unlimited credit with tradesmen, whom the College tutors paid, and then sent the bills to the parents of the young men. 5o6 OHARACTEK SKETCHES neighbourhood, and coming home, quite odd, his mother says-^ill- humoured, unsteady on his feet, and husky in his talk. The Reverend Athanasius begins to grow very very grave: they have high words, even the father and son ; and oh ! how Harriet and her mother tremble and listen at the study-door when these disputes are going on ! The last term of Tom's undergraduateship arrives : he is in ill health, but he will make a mighty effort to retrieve himself for his degree ; and early in the cold winter's morning, ^ — late, late at night — he toils over his books : and the end is that, a month before the examination, Thomas Rook, Esquire, has a brain fever, and Mrs. Rook, and Miss Rook, and the Reverend Athanasius Rook, are all lodging at the "Hoop," an inn in Cambridge town, and day and night round the couch of poor Tom. sin, woe, repentance ! touching reconciliation and burst of tears on the part of son and father, when one morning at the par- sonage, after Tom's recovery, the old gentleman produces a bundle of receipts, and says, with a broken voice, " There, boy, don't be vexed about your debts. Boys will be boys, I know, and I have paid all demands." Everybody cries in the house at this news; the mother and daughter most profusely, even Mrs. Stokes the old housekeeper, who shakes master's hand, and actually kisses Mr. Tom. Well, Tom begins to read a little for his fellowship, but in vain; he is beaten by Mr. Snick, the Westmoreland man. He has no hopes of a living ; Lord Bagwig's promises were all moon- shine. Tom must go to the bar ; and his father, who has long left off taking pupils, must take them again, to support his son in London. Why teU you what happens when there? Tom lives at the West End of the town, and never goes near the Temple ; Tom goes to Ascot and Epsom along with his great friends ; Tom has a long bill with Mr. Rymell, another long biU with Mr. Nugee ; he gets into the hands of the Jews — and his father rushes up to London on tiie outside of the coach to find Tom in a spunging-house in Cursitor Street — the nearest approach he has made to the Temple during his three years' residence in London. 1 don't like to tell you the rest of the history. The Reverend Athanasius was not immortal, and he died a year after his visit to the spunging-house, leaving his son exactly one farthing, and his wife one hundred pounds a year, with remainder to his daughter. But, Heaven bless you ! the poor things wovdd never allow Tom to want whUe they had plenty, and they sold out and sold out the three thou- sand pounds, until, at the end of three years, there did not remq,!:!, CAPTAIN ROOK AND MR. PIGEON 507 one single stiver of them ; and now Miss Harriet is a governess, with sixty pounds a year, supporting her mother, who lives upon fifty. As for Tom, he is a regtdar leg now — leading the life already described. When I met him last it was at Baden, where he was on a professional tour, with a carriage, a courier, a valet, a con- federate, and a case of pistols. He has heen in five duels, he has killed a man who spoke lightly about his honour ; and at French or English hazard, at billiards, at whist, at loo, ^cart^, blind hookey, drawing straws, or beggar-my-neighbour, he will cheat you — cheat you for a hundred pounds or for a guinea, and murder you afterwards if you like. Abroad, our Mend takes military rank, and calls himself Captain Rook ; when asked of what service, he says he was with Don Carlos or Queen Christina; and certain it is that he was absent for a couple of years nobody knows where : he may have been with General Evans, or he may have been at the Sainte-P^agie in Paris, as some people vow he was. We must wind up this paper with some remarks concerning poor little Pigeon. Vanity has been httle Pigeon's failing through life. He is a hnendraper's son, and has been left with money : and the siEy fashionable works that he has read, and the siUy female relatives that he has — (N.B. All young men with money have siUy flattering she-relatives) — and the sUly trips that he has made to watering-places, where he has scraped acquaintance with the Honour- able Tom Mountcoffee-house, Lord Ballyhooly, the celebrated German Prince, Sweller Mobskau, and their Uke (aU Captain Rooks in their way), have been the ruin of him. I have not the shghtest pity in the world for little Pigeon. Look at him ! See in what absurd finery the little prig is dressed. . Wine makes his poor little head ache, but he will drink because it is manly. In mortal fear he puts himself behind a curvetting camelopard of a cab-horse; or perched on the top of a prancing dromedary, is borne through Rotten Row, when he would give the world to be on his own sofa, or with his own mamma and sisters, over a quiet pool of commerce and a cup of tea. How riding does scarify his poor httle legs, and shake his poor little sides ! Smoking, how it does turn his little stomach inside out ; and yet smoke he will : Sweller Mobskau smokes ; Mountcoflfee-house don't mind a cigar ; and as for BaUyhooly, he will puff you a dozen in a day, and says very truly that Pontet won't supply him with near such good ones as he sells Kgeon. The fact is, that Pontet vowed seven years ago not to give his Lordship a sixpence more credit ; and so the good-natured nobleman always helps himself out of Pigeon's box. 5o8 CHARACTER SKETCHES On the shoulders of these aristocratic individuals, Mr. Pigeon is carried into certain clubs, or perhaps we should say he walks into them by the aid of these " legs." But they keep him always to themselves. Captain Rooks must rob in companies ; but of course, the greater the profits, the fewer the partners must be. Three are positively requisite, however, as every reader must know who has played a game at whist : Number One to be Pigeon's partner, and curse his stars at losing, and propose higher play, and " settle " with Number Two ; Number Three to transact business with Pigeon, and drive him down to the City to sell out. We have known an instance where, after a very good night's work, Number Three has bolted with the winnings altogether, but the practice is dangerous j not only disgraceful to the profession, but it cuts up your own chance afterwards, as no one wiU act with you. There is only one occa- sion on which such a manoeuvre is allowable. Many are sick of the profession, and desirous to turn honest men : in this case, when you can get a good covp, five thousand say, bolt without scruple. One thing is clear, the other men must be mum, and you can live at Vienna comfortably on the interest of five thousand pounds. Well, then, in the society of these amiable confederates httle Pigeon goes through that period of time which is necessary for the purpose of plucking him. To do this you must not, in most cases, tug at the feathers so as to hurt him, else he may be frightened, and hop away to somebody else : nor, generally speak- ing, will the feathers come out so easily at first as they will when he is used to it, and then they drop in handfiils. Nor need you have the least scruple in so causing the little creature to moult artificially : if you don't, somebody else will : a Pigeon goes into the world fated, as Chateaubriand says — " Pigeon, il va subir le sort de tout pigeon." He must be plucked, it is the purpose for which nature has formed him : if you. Captain Rook, do not perform the operation on a green table lighted by two wax-candles, and with two packs of cards to operate with, some other Rook will : are there not railroads, and Spanish bonds, and bituminous companies, and Cornish tin mines, and old dowagers with daughters to marry 1 If you leave him, Rook of Birchin Lane will have him as sure as fate : if Rook of Birchin Lane don't hit him, Rook of the Stock Exchange will blaze away both barrels at him, which, if the poor trembling flutterer escape, he will fly over and drop into the rookery, where dear old swindling Lady Rook and her daughters will find him and nestle Mm in their CAPTAIN ROOK AND ME. PIGEON 509 bosoms, and in that soft place pluck him iintil he turns out as naked as a cannon-ball. Be not thou scrupulous, Captain ! Seize on Pigeon ; pluck him gently but boldly ; but, above all, never let him go. If he is a stout cautious bird, of course you must be more cautious ; if he is excessively silly and scared, perhaps the best way is just to take him round the neck at once, and strip the whole stock of plumage from his back. The feathers of the human pigeon being thus violently abstracted from him, no others supply their place : and yet I do not pity him. He is now only undergoing the destiny of pigeons, and is, I do believe, as happy in his plucked as in his feathered state. He cannot purse out his breast, and bury his head, and fan his tail, and strut in the sun as if he were a turkey-cock. Under all those fine airs and feathers, he was but what he is now, a poor little meek, sUly, cowardly bird, and his state of pride is not a whit more natural to him than his fallen condition. He soon grows used to it. He is too great a coward to despair; much too mean to be frightened because he must live by doing meanness. He is sure, if he cannot fly, to fall somehow or other on his little miserable legs : on these he hops about, and manages to live somewhere in his own mean way. He has but a small stomach, and doesn't mind what food he puts into it. He spunges on his relatives ; or else just before his utter ruin he marries and has nine children (and such a family always lives) ; he turns bully most likely, takes to drinking, and beats his wife, who supports him, or takes to drinking too ; or he gets a little place, a veiy little place : you hear he has some tide-waitership, or is clerk to some new milk company, or is lurking about a newspaper. He dies, and a subscription is raised for the Widow Pigeon, and we look no more to find a likeness of him in his children, who are as a new race. Blessed are ye httle ones, for ye are bom in poverty and may bear it, or surmount it and die rich. But woe to the pigeons of this earth, for they are bom rich that they may die poor. The end of Captain Eook — for we must bring both him and the paper to an end — is not more agreeable, but somewhat more manly and majestic than the conclusion of Mr. Pigeon. If you walk over to the Queen's Bench Prison, I would lay a wager that a dozen such are to be found there in a moment. They have a kind of Lucifer look with them, and stare at you with fierce, twinkling,, crow-footed eyes ; or grin from under huge grizzly moustaches, as they walk up and down in their tattered brocades. What a dreadful activity is that of a madhouse, or a prison ! — a dreary flagged courtyard, a long dark room, and the inmates of it, like the inmates of the menagerie 510 CHARACTEE SKETCHES cages, ceaselessly walking up and down ! Mary Queen of Scots says very touchingly : — " Pour mon mal estranger Je ne m'arreste en place ; Mais, j'en ay beau changer Si ma douleur n'efifaoe ! " Up and down, up and down — the inward woe seems to spur the body onwards ; and I think in both madhouse and prison you will find plenty of specimens of our Captain Rook. It is fine to mark him under the pressure of this woe, and see how fierce he looks when stirred up by the long pole of memory. In these asylums the Rooks end their lives ; or, more happy, they die miserably in a miserable provincial town abroad, and for the benefit of coming Rooks they commonly die early ; you as seldom hear of an old Rook (practising his trade) as of a rich one. It is a short-lived trade : not merry, for the gains are most precarious, and perpetual doubt and dread are not pleasant accompaniments of a profession : — not agreeable either, for though Captain Rook does not mind being a scoundrel, no man likes to be considered as such, and as such, he knows very well, does the world consider Captain Rook: not profitable, for the expenses of the trade swallow up all the profits of it, and in addition leave the bankrupt with certain habits that have become as nature to him, and which, to live, he must gratify. I know no more miserable wretch than our Rook in his autumn days, at dismal Calais or Boulogne, or at the Bench yonder, with a whole load of diseases and wants, that have come to him in the course of his profession : the diseases and wants of sensuality, always pampered, and now agonising for lack of its unnatural food; the mind, which must think now, and has only bitter recollections, mortified ambitions, and unavailing scoundrelisms to con over ! Oh, Captain Rook ! what nice " chums " do you take with you into prison ! what pleasant companions of exUe follow you over the fines patriae, or attend, the only watchers, round your miserable death- bed ! My son, be not a Pigeon in thy dealings with the world : — but it la better to be a Pigeon than a Rook. THE FASHIONABLE AUTHORESS PAYING a visit the other day to my friend Timson, who, I need not tell the public, is editor of that famous evening paper, the **** (and let it be said that there is no more profitable acquaintance than a gentleman in Timson's situation, in whose office, at three o'clock daily, you are sure to find new books, lunch, magazines, and innumerable tickets for concerts and plays) : going, I say, into Timson's office, I saw on the table an immense paper cone or funnel, containing a bouquet of such a size, that it might be called a bosquet, wherein all sorts of rare geraniums, luscious magnolias, stately dahlias, and other floral produce were gathered together — a regular flower-stack. Timson was for a brief space invisible, and I was left alone in the room with the odours of this tremendous bow-pot, which filled the whole of the inky, smutty, dingy apartment with an agreeable incense. " rus ! quando te aspiciam ? " explaimed I, out of the Latin Grammar, for imagination had carried me away to the country, and I was about to make another excellent and useful quotation (from the 1 4th book of the Iliad, madam), concerning " ruddy lotuses, and crocuses, and hyacinths," when all of a sudden Timson appeared. His head and shoulders had, in fact, been engulfed in the flowers, among which he might be compared to any Cupid, butterfly, or bee. His little face was screwed up into such an expression of comical delight and triumph, that a Methodist parson would have laughed at it in the midst of a funeral sermon. " What are you giggling at ? " said Mr. Timson, assuming a high aristocratic air. "Has the goddess Flora made you a present of that bower, wrapped up in white paper; or did it come by the vulgar hands of yonder gorgeous footman, at whom all the little printer's devils are staring in the passage % " " Stuff ! " said Timson, picking to pieces some rare exotic, worth at the very least fifteenpence; "a friend, who knows that Mrs. Timson and I are fond of these things, has sent us a nosegay, that's all." I saw how it was. " Augustus Timson," exclaimed I sternly, . 512 OHAEACTEK SKETCHES " the Pimlicoes have been with you ; if that footman did not wear the Pimlico plush, ring the bell and order me out; if that three- cornered biUet lying in your snuff-box has not the Pimlico seal to it, never ask me to dinner again." "Well, if it does," says Mr. Timson, who flushed as red as a peony, " what is the harm ? Lady Fanny Flummery may send flowers to her friends, I suppose? The conservatories at Pimlico House are famous aU the world over, and the Countess promised me a nosegay the very last time I dined there." "Was that the day when she gave you a box of bonbons for your darling little Ferdinand ? " " No, another day." " Or the day when she promised you her carriage for Epsom Races?" "No." " Or the day when she hoped that her Lucy and your Barbara- Jane might be acquainted, and sent to the latter from the former a new French doll and tea-things ? " " Fiddlestick ! " roared out Augustus Timson, Esquire : " I wish you wouldn't come bothering here. I tell you that Lady Pimhco is my friend — my friend, mark you, and I will allow no man to abuse her in my presence ; I say again no man I " wherewith Mr. Timson plunged both his hands violently into his breeches-pockets, looked me in the face sternly, and began jingling his keys and shillings about. At this juncture (it being about half-past three o'clock in the afternoon), a one-horse chaise drove up to the **** office (Timson lives at Clapham, and comes in and out in this machine), a one-horse chaise drove up ; and amidst a scufBing and crying of small voices, good-humoured Mrs. Timson bounced into the room. "Here we are, deary," said she: "we'U walk to the Mery- weathers ; and I've told Sam to be in Charles Street at twelve with the chaise : it wouldn't do, you know, to come out of the Pimlico box and have the people cry, ' Mrs. Timson's carriage ! ' for old Sam and the chaise." Timson, to this loving and voluble address of his lady, gave a peevish puzzled look towards the stranger, as much as to say, "^e'shere." "La, Mr. Smith ! and how do you do? — So rude — I didn't see you : but the fact is, we are all in such a bustle ! Augustus has got Lady Pimlico's box for the ' Puritani ' to-night, and I vowed I'd take the children." Those young persons were evidently from their costume prepared for some extraordinary festival. Miss Barbara^Jane, a young lady THE FASHIONABLE AtTTHOEESS 513 of six years old, in a pretty pink slip and white muslin, her dear little poll bristling over with papers, to be removed previous to the play ; while Master Ferdinand had a pair of nankeens (I can recol- lect Timson in them in the year 1825 — a great buck), and white silk stockings, which belonged to his mamma. His frill was very large and very clean, and he was fumbling perpetually at a pair of white kid gloves, which his mamma forbade him to assume before the opera. And "Look here!" and "Oh, precious!" and "Oh, my!" were uttered by these worthy people as they severally beheld the vast bouquet, into which Mrs. Timson's head flounced, just as her husband's had done before. "I must have a greenhouse at the Snuggery, that's positive, Timson, for I'm passionately fond of flowers — and how kind of Lady Fanny ! Do you know her Ladyship, Mr. Smith 1 " " Indeed, madam, I don't remember having ever spoken to a lord or a lady in my life." Timson smiled in a supercilious way. Mrs. Timson exclaimed, " La, how odd I Augustus knows ever so many. Let's see, there's the Countess of Pimlico and Lady Fanny Flummery; Lord Doldrum (Timson touched up his Travels, you know) ; Lord Gasterton, Lord Guttlebiuy's eldest son ; Lady Pawpaw (they say she ought not to be visited, though) ; Baron Strum — Strom — Strumpf " What the baron's name was I have never been able to learn ; for here Timson burst out with a " Hold your tongue, Bessy ! " which stopped honest Mrs. Timson's harmless prattle altogether, and obliged that worthy woman to say meekly, " Well, Gus, I did not think there was any harm in mentioning your acquaintance." Good soul ! it was only because she took pride in her Timson that she loved to enumerate the great names of the persons who did him honour. My friend the editor was, in fact, in a cruel position, looking foolish before his old acquaintance, stricken in that unfor- tunate sore point in his honest good-humoured character. The man adored the aristocracy, and had that wonderful respect for a lord which, perhaps the observant reader may have remarked, especially characterises men of Timson's way of thinking. In old days at the club (we held it in a small public-house near the Coburg Theatre, some of us having free admissions to that place of amusement, and some of us living for convenience in the imme- diate neighbourhood of one of His Majesty's prisons in that quarter) — in old days, I say, at our spouting and toasted-cheese club, called " The Forum," Timson was called Brutus Timson, and not Augustus, in consequence of the ferocious republicanism which characterised him, and his utter scorn and hatred of a bloated do-nothing aristoc- 3 2 K SH CHAEAOTER SKETCHES racy. His letters in the WeeMy Sentinel, signed " Lictor," must be remembered by all our readers : he advocated the repeal of the Com Laws, the burning of machines, the rights of labour, &c. &c., wrote some pretty defences of Robespierre, and used seriously to avow, when at all in liquor, that in consequence of those " Lictor " letters, Lord Oastlereagh had tried to have him murdered, and thrown over Blackfriars Bridge. By what means Augustus Timson rose to his present exalted position it is needless here to state ; suffice it, that in two years he was completely bound over neck-and-heels to the bloodthirsty aristocrats, hereditary tyrants, &c. One evening he was asked to dine with a Secretary of the Treasury (the **** is Ministerial, and has been so these forty-nine years) ; at the house of that Secretary of the Treasury he met a lord's son : walking with Mrs. Timson in the Park next Sunday, that lord's son saluted him. Timson was from that moment a slave, had his coats made at the West End, cut his wife's relations (they axe dealers in marine stores, and live at Wapping), and had his name put down at two Clubs. Who was the lord's son? Lord Pimlico's son, to be sure, the Honourable Frederick Flummery, who married Lady Fanny Foxy, daughter of Pitt Castlereagh, second Earl of Reynard, Kilbrush Castle, county KUdare. The Earl had been Ambassador in '14: Mr. Flummery, his attach^ : he was twenty-one at that time, with the sweetest tuft on his chin in the world. Lady Fanny was only four-and-twenty, just jilted by Prince Scoronconcolo, the horrid man who had married Miss Solomonson with a plum. Fanny had nothing — Frederick had about seven thousand pounds less. What better could the young things do than marry? Marry they did, and in the most delicious secrecy. Old Reynard was charmed to have an opportunity of breaking with one of his daughters for ever, and only longed for an occasion never to forgive the other nine. A wit of the Prince's time, who inherited and transmitted to his children a vast fortune of genius, was cautioned on his marriage to be very economical. " Economical ! " said he ; " my wife has nothing, and I have nothing : I suppose a man can't live under that ! " Our interesting pair, by judiciously employing the same capital, managed, year after year, to live very comfortably, until, at last, they were received into Pimlico House by the dowager (who has it for her Ufe), where they live very magnificently. Lady Fanny gives the most magnificent entertainment in London, has the most magnificent equipage, and a very fine husband ; who has his equipage as fine as her Ladyship's ; his seat in the omnibus, while her Lady- ship is in the second tier. They say he plays a good deal — ay, and pays, too, when he loses. THE FASHIONABLE AUTHOKESS 515 And how, pr'ythee ? Her Ladyship is a Fashionable Autho- ress. She has been at this game for fifteen years ; during which period she has published forty-five novels, edited twenty-seven new magazines, and I don't know how many annuals, besides publishing poems, plays, desultory thoughts, memoirs, recollections of travel, and pamphlets without number. Going one day to church, a lady, whom I knew by her Leghorn bonnet and red ribbons, riiche with poppies and marigolds, brass ferronnike, great red hands, black silk gown, thick shoes, and black silk stockings ; a lady, whom I knew, I say, to be a devotional cook, made a bob to me just as the psalm struck up, and offered me a share of her hynm-book. It was — "HEAVENLY CHOKDS; A COLLECTION OF Satttli Strains, SBLBOTED, COMPOSED, AND EDITED, BY THE LADY FRANCES JULIANA PLUMMEBY." — Being simply a collection of heavenly chords robbed from the lyres of Watts, Wesley, Brady and Tate, &c. ; and of sacred strains from the rare collection of Stemhold and Hopkins. Out of this, cook and I sang; and it is amazing how much our fervour was increased by thinking that our devotions were directed by a lady whose name was in the Red Book. The thousands of pages that Lady Fanny Flummery has covered with ink exceed all belief. You must have remarked, madam, in respect of this literary fecundity, that your amiable sex possesses vastly greater capabUities than we do ; and that while a man is painfully labouring over a letter of two sides, a lady will produce a dozen pages, crossed, dashed, and so beautifully neat and close, as to be well-nigh invisible. The readiest of ready pens has Lady Fanny ; her Pegasus gallops over hot-pressed satin so as to distance all gentlemen riders; like Camilla, it scours the plain — of Bath, and never seems punished or fatigued ; only it runs so fast that it often leaves all sense behind it ; and there it goes on, on, scribble, scribble, scribble, never flagging until it arrives at that fair winning- post on which is written " finis," or " the end " ; and shows that the course, whether it be of novel, annual, poem, or what not, is complete. Now, the author of these pages doth not pretend to describe the inward thoughts, ways, and manner of being of my Lady 5i6 CHARACTER SKETCHES Fanny, having made before .that humiliating confession, that lords and ladies are personally unknown to him ; so that all mdhners, butchers' ladies, dashing young clerks, and apprentices, or other persons who are anxious to cultivate a knowledge of the aristocracy, had better skip over this article altogether. But he hath heard it whispered, from pretty good authority, that the manners and customs of these men and women resemble, in no inconsiderable degree, the habits and usages of other men and women whose names are unrecorded by Debrett. Granting this, and that Lady Fanny is a woman pretty much like another, the philosophical reader will be content that we rather consider her Ladyship in her public capacity, and examine her influence upon mankind in general. Her person, then, being thus put out of the way, her works, too, need not be very carefully sifted and criticised ; for what is the use of peering into a millstone, or making calculations about the figure ? The woman has not, in fact, the slightest influence upon literature for good or for evil : there are a certain number of fools whom she catches in her flimsy traps ; and why not 1 They are made to be humbugged, or how should we live ? Lady Fanny writes every- thing: that is, nothing. Her poetry is. mere wind; her novels, stark nought ; her philosophy, sheer vacancy : how should she do any better than she does? how could she succeed if she did do any better 1 If she did write well, she would not be Lady Fanny ; she would not be praised by Timson and the critics, because she would be an honest woman, and would not bribe them. Nay, she would probably be written down by Timson & Co., be- cause, being an honest woman, she utterly despised them and their craft. We have said what she writes for the most part. Individually, she wUl throw off any number of novels that Messrs. Soap and Diddle will pay for ; and collectively, by the aid of self and friends, scores of "Lyrics of Loveliness," "Beams of Beauty," "Pearls of Purity," &c. Who does not recollect the success which her "Pearls of the Peerage " had 1 She is going to do the " Beauties of the Baronetage " ; then we shall have the " Daughters of the Dustmen," or some such other collection of portraits. Lady Fanny has around her a score of literary gentlemen, who are bound to her, body and soul : give them a dinner, a smile from an opera-box, a wave of the hand in Rotten Row, and they are hers, neck and heels. Vides, mi fZi, &c. See, my son, with what a very small dose of humbug men are to be bought. I know many of these individuals : there is my friend M 'Lather, an immense pudgy man : I saw him one day walking through Bond Street in company with an enormous THE FASHIONABLE AUTHORESS 517 ruby breast-pin. " Mac ! " shouted your humble servant, " that is a Flummery ruby ; " and Mac hated and cursed us ever after. Presently came little Fitch, the artist: he was rigged out in an illuminated velvet waistcoat — Flummery again — " There's only one like it in town," whispered Fitch to me coniidentially, " and Flummery has that." To be sure, Fitch had given, in return, half-ardozen of the prettiest drawings in the world. " I wouldn't charge for them, you know," he says : " for hang it. Lady Fanny is my friend." Oh, Fitch, Fitch ! Fifty more instances could be adduced of her Ladyship's ways of bribery. She bribes the critics to praise her, and the writers to write for her ; and the public flocks to her as it will to any other tradesman who is properly puffed. Out comes the book : as for its merits, we may allow, cheerfully, that Lady Fanny has no lack of that natural esprit which every woman possesses ; but here praise stops. For the style, she does not know her own language ; but, in revenge, has a smattering of half-ardozen others. She interlards her works with fearful quotations from the French, fiddle-faddle extracts from Italian operas, German phrases fiercely mutilated, and a scrap or two of bad Spanish ; and upon the strength of these murders, she calls herself an authoress. To be sure there is no such word as authoress. If any young nobleman or gentleman of Eton College, when called upon to indite a copy of verses in praise of Sappho, or the Countess of Dash, or Lady Charlotte What-d'ye-call-'em, or the Honourable Mrs. Somebody, should fondly imagine that he might apply to those fair creatures the title of auctrix — I pity that young nobleman's or gentleman's case. Doctor Wordsworth and assistants would swish that error out of him in a way that need not here be mentioned. Remember it henceforth, ye writeresses — there is no such word as authoress. Auctor, madam, is the word. "Optima tu proprii nominis auctor eris ; " which, of course, means that you are, by your proper name, an author, not an authoress. The line is in Ainsworth's Dictionary, where anybody may see it. This point is settled then : there is no such word as authoress. But what of that 1 Are authoresses to be bound by the rules of grammar 1 The supposition is absurd. We don't expect them to know their own language ; we prefer rather the little graceful pranks and liberties they take with it. When, for instance, a celebrated authoress, who wrote a Diaress, calls somebody the prototype of his own father, we feel an obligation to her Ladyship ; the language feels an obligation ; it has a charm and a privilege with which it was never before endowed : and it is manifest, that if we call oiu-selves ante- types of our grandmothers — can prophesy what we had for dinner yesterday, and so on, we get into a new range of thought, sioA, 5i8 OHARACTEK SKETCHES discover sweet regions of fancy and poetry, of which the mind hath never even had a notion until now. It may be then considered as certain that an authoress oitght not to know her own tongue. Literature and politics have this privilege in common, that any ignoramus may excel in both. No apprenticeship is required, that is certain; and if any gentleman doubts, let us refer him to the popular works of the present day, where, if he find a particle of scholarship, or any acquaintance with any books in any language, or if he be disgusted by any absurd, stiff, old-fashioned notions of grammatical propriety, we are ready to qualify our assertion. A friend of ours came to us the other day in great trouble. His dear little boy, who had been for some months attach^ to the stables of Mr. Tilbury's establishment, took a fancy to the corduroy breeches of some other gentleman employed in the same emporium — appropriated them, and afterwards disposed of them for a trifling sum to a relation — I believe his uncle. For this harmless freak, poor Sam was absolutely seized, tried at Clerkenwell Sessions, and condemned to six months' useless rotatory labour at the House of Correction. " The poor fellow was bad enough before, sir," said his father, confiding in our philanthropy ; " he picked up such a deal of slang among the stable-boys ; but if you could hear him since he came from the mill ! he knocks you down with it, sir. I am afraid, sir, of his becoming a regular prig : for though he's a 'cute chap, can read and write, and is mighty smart and handy, yet no one will take him into service, on account of that business of the breeches ! " " What, sir ! " exclaimed we, amazed at the man's simplicity : " such a son, and you don't know what to do with him ! a 'cute fellow, who can write, who has been educated in a stable-yard, and has had six months' polish in a university — I mean a prison — and you don't know what to do with him 1 Make a fashionable novelist of him, and be hanged to you ! " And proud am I to say that that young man, every evening, after he comes home from his work (he has taken to street-sweeping in the day, and I don't advise him to relinquish a certainty) — proud am I to say that he devotes every evening to literary composition, and is coming out with a novel, in numbers, of the most fashionable kind. This little episode is only given for the sake of example : par exemple, as our authoress would say, who delights in French of the very worst kind. The public likes only the extremes of society, and votes mediocrity vulgar. Prom the Author they will take nothing but Fleet Ditch ; from the Authoress, only the very finest of rose-water. I have read so many of her Ladyship's novels, that, egad ! now I don't care for anything under a marquis, Why the THE FASHIONABLE AUTHORESS 519 deuce should we listen to the intrigues, the misfortunes, the virtues, and conversations of a couple of countesses, for instance, when we can have duchesses for our money ? What's a baronet 1 pish ! pish ! that great coarse red fist in his scutcheon turns me sick ! What's a baron ? a fellow with only one more baU than a pawnbroker ; and, upon my conscience, just as common. Dear Lady Fanny, in your next novel, give us no more of these low people; nothing imder strawberry leaves, for the mercy of Heaven ! Suppose, now, you write us "ALBERT; OB, WHISPERINGS AT WINDSOR. BY THE LADY FEAJTCES FLUMMERY.'' There is a subject — ^fashionable circles, curious revelations, exclusive excitement, &c. To be sure, you must here introduce a viscount, and that is sadly vulgar ; but we will pass him for the sake of the ministerial portefeuille, which is genteel. Then you might do "Leopold; or, the Bride of Neuilly"; "The Victim of Wtirtem- berg " ; " Olga ; or, the Autocrat's Daughter '' (a capital title) ; " Henri ! or, Rome in the Nineteenth Century '' ; we can fancy the book, and a sweet paragraph about it in Timson's paper. " Henri, by Lady Frances Flummery. — Henri ! Who can he be ? a little bird whispers in our ear, that the gifted and talented Sappho of oiu: hemisphere has discovered some curious particulars in the life of a certain yov/ng chevalier, whose appearance at Rome had so frightened the Court of the Tu-1-ries. Henri de B-rd — ux is of an age when the yowng god can shoot his darts into the bosom with fatal accuracy ; and if the Marchesina degU Spinachi (whose portrait our lovely authoress has sung with a kind/red hand) be as beauteous as she is represented (and as all who have visited in the exclusive circles of the Eternal City say she is), no wonder at her eflfect upon the Pr-nce. Verhvm, sap. We hear that a few copies are stiU remaining. The enterprising publishers, Messrs. Soap and Diddle, have announced, we see, several other works by the same accomplished pen." This paragraph makes its appearance, in small type, in the ****, by the side, perhaps, of a disinterested recommendations of bear's-grease, or some remarks on the extraordinary cheapness of plate in Comhill, Well, two or three days after, my dear 520 OHAEACTER SKETCHES Timson, who has been asked to dinner, ■writes in his own hand, and causes to be printed in the largest type, an article to the following effect ; — " HENKI. "by lady f. plummeey. " This is another of the graceful evergreens which the fair fingers of Lady Fanny Flummery are continually strewing upon our path. At once profound and caustic, truthful and passionate, we are at a loss whether most to admire the manly grandeur of her Ladyship's mind, or the exquisite nymph-like delicacy of it. Strange power of fancy ! Sweet enchantress, that rules the mind at will : stirring up the utmost depths of it into passion and storm, or wreathing and dimpling its calm surface with countless summer smiles. As a great Bard of old Time has expressed it, what do we not owe to woman ? " What do we not owe her ? More love, more happiness, more calm of vexed spirit, more truthful aid, and pleasant counsel ; in joy, more delicate sympathy ; in sorrow, more kind companionship. We look into her cheery eyes, and in those wells of love, care drowns; we listen to her siren voice, and, in that balmy music, banished hopes come winging to the breast again." This goes on for about three-quarters of a column : I don't pretend to understand it; but with flowers, angels, Wordsworth's poems, and the old dramatists, one can never be wrong, I think : and though I have written the above paragraphs myself, and don't understand a word of them, I can't, upon my conscience, help think- ing that they are mighty pretty writing. After, then, this has gone on for about three-quarters of a column (Timson does it in spare minutes, and fits it to any book that Lady Fanny brings out), he proceeds to particularise, thus : — "The griding excitement which thrills through every fibre of the soul as we peruse these passionate pages, is almost too painful to bear. Nevertheless, one drains the draughts of poesy to the dregs, so delioiously intoxicating is its nature. We defy any man who begins these volumes to quit them ere he has perused each line. The plot may be briefly told as thus: — Henri, an exiled Prince of Franoonia (it is easy to imderstand the flimsy allegory), arrives at Rome, and is presented to the sovereign Pontiff'. At a feast given in his lionour at the Vatican, a dancing girl (the loveliest creation that ever issued from poet's brain) is introduced, and THE FASHIONABLE AUTHORESS 521 exhibits some specimens of her art. The young Prince is instan- taneously smitten with the charms of the Saltatrice ; he breathes into her ear the accents of his love, and is listened to with favour. He has, however, a rival, and a powerful one. The Pope has abeady cast his eye upon the Apulian maid, and burns with lawless passion. One of the grandest scenes ever writ, occms between the rivals. The Pope offers to Castanetta every temptation ; he will even resign his crown and marry her : but she refuses. The Prince can make no such offers ; he cannot wed her : ' The blood of Borbone,' he says, 'may not be thus misallied.' He deter- mines to avoid her. In despair, she throws herself off the Tarpeian rock ; and the Pope becomes a maniac. Such is an outline of this tragic tale. " Besides this fabulous and melancholy paxt of the narrative, which is unsurpassed, much is written in the gay and sparkling style for which our lovely author is imrivalled. The sketch of the Marchesina degh Spinachi and her lover, the Duc^ di Gammoni, is delicious ; and the intrigue between the beautiful Princess Kalbsbraten and Count Bouterbrod is exquisitely painted : every- body, of course, knows who these characters are. The discovery of the manner in which Kartoflfeln, the Saxon envoy, poisons the Princess's dishes, is only a graceful and real repetition of a story which was agitated throughout all the diplomatic circles last year. Schinken, the Westphalian, must not be forgotten ; nor Olla, the Spanish spy. How does Lady Fanny Flummery, poet . as she is, possess a sense of the ridiculous and a keenness of perception which would do honour to a Rabelais or a Rochefoucauld ? To those who ask this question, we have one reply, and that an example : — Not among women 'tis true ; for tiU the Lady Fanny came among us, woman never soared so high. Not among women, indeed ! — but in comparing her to that great spirit for whom our veneration is highest and holiest, we offer no dishonour to his shrine : — in saying that he who wrote of Romeo and Desdemona might have drawn Castanetta and Enrico, we utter but the truthful expressions of our hearts ; in asserting that so long as Shakspeabe lives, so long will Flummery endure ; in declaring that he who rules in all hearts, and over all spirits and all climes, has found a congenial spirit, we do but justice to Lady Fanny — justice to him who sleeps by Avon ! " With which we had better, perhaps, conclude. Our object has been, in descanting upon the Fashionable Authoress, to point out the influence which her writing possesses over society, rather than to criticise her life. The former is quite harmless : and we don't pretend to be curious about the latter. The woman herself is not 522 CHARACTER SKETCHES so blamable ; it is the silly people who cringe at her feet that do the mischief, and, gulled themselves, gull the most gullible of publics. Think you, Timson, that her Ladyship asks you for your heaux yeux or your wit ? Fool ! you do think so, or try and think so ; and yet you know she loves not you, but the **** newspaper. Think, little Fitch, in your fine waistcoat, how dearly you have paid for it ! Think, M 'Lather, how many smirks, and lies, and columns of good three-halfpence-arline matter that big garnet pin has cost you ! The woman laughs at you, man — you, who fancy that she is smitten with you — laughs at your absurd pretensions, your way of eating fish at dinner, your great hands, your eyes, your whiskers, your coat, and your strange north-country twang. Down with this Delilah ! Avaunt, Circe ! giver of poisonous feeds. To your natural haunts, ye gentlemen of the press ! if bachelors, frequent your taverns, and be content. Better is Sally the waiter and the first cut of the joint, than a dinner of four courses and humbug therewith. Ye who are married, go to your homes ; dine not with those persons who scorn your wives. Go not forth to parties, that ye may act Tom Fool for the amusement of my Lord and my Lady ; but play your natural foUies among your natural friends. Do tliis for a few years, and the Fashionable Authoress is extinct. Jove, what a prospect ! She, too, has retreated to her own natural calling, being as much out of place in a book as you, my dear M 'Lather, in a drawing-room. Let milliners look up to her ; let Howell and James swear by her ; let simpering dandies caper about her car ; let her write poetry if she likes, but only for the most exclusive circles ; let mantua-makers puff her — but not men : let such things be, and the Fashionable Autlioress is no more ! Blessed, blessed thought ! No more fiddle-faddle novels ! no more namby-pamby poetry ! no more fnbble " Blossoms of Loveliness " ! When will you arrive, happy Grolden Age? THE ARTISTS IT is confidently stated that there was once a time when the quarter of Soho was thronged by the fashion of London. Many wide streets are there in the neighbourhood, stretching cheerfully towards Middlesex Hospital in the north, bounded by Dean Street in the west, where the Lords and Ladies of William's time used to dwell, — tin in Queen Anne's time, Bloomsbury put Soho out of fashion, and Great Eussell Street became the pink of the mode. Both these quarters of the town have submitted to the awful rule of Nature, and are now to be seen undergoing the dire process of decay. Fashion has deserted Soho, and left her in her gaunt lonely old age. The houses have a vast, dingy, mouldy, dowager look. No more beaux, in mighty periwigs, ride by in gilded clatter- ing coaches ; no more lacqueys accompany them, bearing torches, and shouting for precedence. A solitary policeman paces these soli- tary streets, the only dandy in the neighbourhood. You hear the milkman yelling his milk with a startling distinctness, and the clack of a servant-girl's pattens sets people a-staring from the windows. With Bloomsbury we have here nothing to do ; but as genteel stockbrokers inhabit the neighbourhood of Eegent's Park,-^-as lawyers have taken possession of EusseU Square, — so Artists have seized upon the desolate quarter of Soho. They are to be found in great numbers in Berners Street. Up to the present time naturalists have never been able to accoimt for this mystery of their residence. What has a painter to do with Middlesex Hospital? He is to be found in Charlotte Street, Fitzxoy Square. And why ? Philosophy cannot tell, any more than why milk is found in a cocoa-nut. Look at Newman Street. Has earth, in any dismal comer of her great round face, a spot more desperately gloomy ? The windows are spotted with wafers, holding up ghastly bills, that tell you the house is " To Let." Nobody walks there — not even an old-clothes- man ; the first inhabited house has bars to the windows, and bears the name of " Ahasuerus, officer to the Sheriff of Middlesex " ; and here, above all places, must painters take up their quarters, — day by day must these reckless people pass Ahasuerus's treble gate. There was my poor friend Tom Tickner (who did those sweet things 524 OHARAOTEE SKETCHES for " The Book of Beauty "). Tom, who could not pay his washer- woman, lived opposite the bailiff's ; and could see every miserable debtor or greasy Jew writ-bearer that went in or out of his door. The street begins with a bailiffs, and ends with a hospital. I wonder how men live in it, and are decently cheerful, with this gloomy double-barrelled moral pushed perpetually into their faces. Here, however, they persist in living, no one knows why ; owls may still be found roosting in !N"etley Abbey, and a few Arabs are to be seen at the present minute in Palmyra. The ground-floors of the houses where painters live are mostly make-believe shops, black empty warehouses, containing fabulous goods. There is a sedan-chair opposite a house in Rathbone Place, that I have myself seen every day for forty-three years. The house has commonly a huge india-rubber-coloured door, with a couple of glistening brass-plates and bells. A portrait-painter lives on the first- floor ; a great historical genius inhabits the second. Remark the first- floor's middle drawing-room window ; it is four feet higher than its two companions, and has taken a fancy to peep into the second-floor front. So much for the outward appearance of their habitations, and for the quarters in which they commonly dwell. They seem to love solitude, and their mighty spirits rejoice in vastness and gloomy ruin. I don't say a word here about those geniuses who frequent the thoroughfares of the town, and have picture-frames containing a little gallery of miniature peers, beauties, and general officers, in the Quadrant, the passages about St. Martin's Lane, the Strand, and Oheapside. Lord Lyndhurst is to be seen in many of these gratis exhibitions — Lord Lyndhurst cribbed from Chalon ; Lady Peel from Sir Thomas ; Miss Oroker from the same ;. the Duke, from ditto ; an original officer in the Spanish Legion ; a colonel or so, of the Bunhill Row Fencibles ; a lady on a yellow sofa, with four children in little caps and blue ribands. We have all of us seen these pretty pictures, and are aware that our own features may be " done in this style." Then there is the man on the chaii}-pier at Brighton, who pares out your likeness in sticking-plaster ; there is Miss Croke, or Miss Runt, who gives lessons in Poonah-painting, japanning, or mezzotinting; Miss Stump, who attends ladies' schools with large chalk heads from Le Brun or the Cartoons; Rubbery, who instructs young gentlemen's establishments in pencil ; and Sepio, of the Water-Colour Society, who paints before eight pupils daily, at a guinea an hour, keeping his own drawings for himself. All these persons, as the most indifferent reader must see, equally belong to the tribe of Artists (the last not more than the first), and in an article like this should be mentioned properly. But though this paper has been extended from eight pages to THE ARTISTS SZS sixteen, not a volume would suffice to do justice to the biographies of the persons above mentioned. Think of the superb Sepio, in a light-blue satin cravat, and a light-brown coat, and yellow kids, tripping daintily from Grosvenor Square to Gloucester Place, a small sugar-loaf boy following, who carries his morocco portfolio. Sepio scents his handkerchief, curls his hair, and wears, on a great coarse fist, a large emerald ring that one of his pupils gave him. He would not smoke a cigar for the world; he is always to be found at the opera ; and, gods ! how he grins, and waggles his head about, as Lady Fanny nods to him from her box. He goes to at least six great parties in the season. At the houses where he teaches, he has a faint hope that he is received as an equal, and propitiates scornful footmen by absurd donations of sovereigns. The rogue has plenty of them. He has a stock- broker, and a power of guinea-lessons stowed away in the Consols. There are a number of young ladies of genius in the aristocracy, who admire him hugely ; he begs you to contradict the report about him and Lady Smigsmag ; every now and then he gets a present of game from a marquis; the City ladies die to have lessons of him ; he prances about the park on a high-bred cocktail, with lacquered boots and enormous liigh heels ; and he has a mother and sisters somewhere — washerwomen, it is said, in Pimlico. How different is his fate to that of poor Rubbery, the school drawing-master ! Highgate, Homerton, Putney, Hackney, Hornsey, Turnham Green, are' his resorts ; he has a select seminary to attend at every one of these places ; and if, from all these nurseries of youth, he obtains a sufficient number of half-crowns to pay his week's bills, what a happy man is he ! He lives most likely in a third floor in Howland Street, and has commonly five children, who have all a marvellous talent for drawing — all save one, perhaps, that is an idiot, which a poor sick mother is ever carefully tending. Sepio's great aim and battle in life is to be considered one of the aristocracy ; honest Rubbery would fain be thought a gentleman, too ; but, indeed, he does not know whether he is so or not. Why be a gentleman 1 — A gentle- man Artist does not obtain the wages of a tailor ; Rubbery's butcher looks down upon him with a royal scorn ; and his wife, poor gentle soul (a clergyman's daughter, who married him in the firm belief that her John would be knighted and make an immense fortune), — his wife, I say, has many fierce looks to suffer from Mrs. Butcher, and many meek excuses or prayers to proffer, when she cannot pay her bill, — or when, worst of all, she has humbly to beg for a little scrap of meat upon credit, against John's coming home. He has five-and-twenty miles to walk that day, and must have 526 CHAEAOTER SKETCHES something nourishing when he comes in — he is killing himself, poor fellow, she knows he is ; and Miss Crick has promised to pay him his quarter's charge on the very next Saturday. "Gentlefolks, indeed," says Mrs. Butcher; "pretty gentlefolks these, as can't pay for half a pound of steak ! " Let us thank Heaven that the Artist's wife has her meat, however, — there is good in that shrill, fat, mottled-faced Mrs. Brisket, after all. Think of the labours of that poor Rubbery. He was up at four in the morning, and toiled till nine upon a huge damp icy litho- graphic stone, — on which he has drawn the " Star of the Wave," or the " Queen of the Tourney," or, " She met at Almack's," for Lady Flummery's last new song. This done, at half-past nine he is to be seen striding across Kensington Gardens, to wait upon the before-named Miss Crick, at Lamont House. Transport yourself in imagination to the Misses Kittle's seminary, Potzdam Villa, Upper Homerton, four miles from Shoreditch ; and at half-past two. Professor Rubbery is to be seen swinging along towards the gate. Somebody is on the look-out for him ; indeed it is his eldest daughter Marianne, who has been pacing the shrubbery, and peering over the green railings this half-hour past. She is with the Misses Kittle on the "mutual system," a thousand times more despised than the butchers' and the grocers' daughters, who are educated on the same terms, and whose papas are warm men in Aldgate. Wednesday is the happiest day of Marianne's week : and this the happiest hour of Wednesday ! Behold ! Professor Rubbery wipes his hot brows and kisses the poor thing, and they go in together out of the rain, and he tells her that the twins are well out of the measles, thank God ! and that Tom has just done the Antinous, in a way that must make him sure of the Academy prize, and that mother is better of her rheumatism now. He has brought her a letter, in large round-hand, from Polly ; a famous soldier, drawn by little Frank ; and when, after his two hours' lesson. Rubbery is oflF again, our dear Marianne cons over the letter and picture a hundred times with soft tearful smiles, and stows them away in an old writing-desk, amidst a heap more of precious home relics, wretched trumpery scraps and baubles, that you and I, madam, would sneer at ; but that in the poor child's eyes (and, I think, in the eyes of One who knows how to value widows' mites and humble sinners' offerings) are better than bank- notes and Pitt diamonds. kind Heaven, that has given these treasures to the poor ! Many and many an hour does Marianne lie awake with full eyes, and yearn for that wretched old lodging in Howland Street, where mother and brothers he sleeping ; and, gods ! what a fgte it is, when twice or thrice in the year she comes home ! THE ARTISTS 527 I forget how many hundred millions of miles, for how many billions of centuries, how many thousands of decillions of angels, peris, houris, demons, afreets, and the like, Mahomet travelled, lived, and counted, during the time that some water was falling from a bucket to the ground ; but have we not been wandering most egregiously away from Rubbery, during the minute in which his daughter is changing his shoes, and taking off his reeking macintosh, in the hall of Potzdam Villa? She thinks him the finest artist that ever cut an H. B. ; that's positive : and as a drawing-master, his merits are wonderful : for at the Misses Kittle's annual vacation festival, when the young ladies' drawings are exhibited to their mammas and relatives (Rubbery attending in a clean shirt, with his wife's large brooch stuck in it, and drinking negus along with the very best) ; — at the annual festival, I say, it wiU be found that the sixty-four drawings exhibited — "Tintem Abbey," " Kenilworth Castle," " Horse — from Carl Vernet," " Head — -from West," or what not (say sixteen of each sort) — are the one exactly as good as the other ; so that, although Miss Slamcoe gets the prize, there is really no reason why Miss Timson, who is only four years old, should not have it ; her design being accurately stroke for stroke, tree for tree, curl for curl, the same as Miss Slamcoe's, who is eighteen. The fact is, that of these drawings. Rubbery, in the course of the year, has done every single stroke, although the girls and their parents are ready to take their affidavits (or, as I heard once a great female grammarian say, their affies davit) that the drawing-master has never been near the sketches. This is the way with them ; but mark ! — ^when young ladies come home, are settled in life, and mammas of families, — can they design so much as a horse, or a dog, or a " moo-cow," for little Jack who bawls out for them ? Not they ! Rubbery's pupils have no more notion of drawing; any more than Sepio's of painting, when that eminent artist is away. Between these two gentlemen, lie a whole class of teachers of drawing, who resemble them more or less. I am ashamed to say that Rubbery takes his pipe in the parlour of an hotel, of which the largest room is devoted to the convenience of poor people, amateurs of British gin : whilst Sepio trips down to the Club, and has a pint of the smallest claret : but of course the tastes of men vary ; and you find them simple or presuming, careless or prudent, natural and vulgar, or false and atrociously genteel, in all ranks and stations of life. As for the other persons mentioned at the beginning of this discourse, viz. the cheap portrait-painter, the portrait-cutter in sticking-plaster, and Miss Oroke, the teacher of mezzotint and 528 CHARACTEE SKETCHES Poonah-painting, — nothing need be said of them in this place, as we have to speak of matters more important. Only about Miss Croke, or about other professors of cheap art, let the reader most sedulously avoid them. Mezzotinto is a take-in, Poonah-painting a rank, villainous deception. So is " Grecian art without brush or pencils." These are only small mechanical contrivances, over which young ladies are made to lose time. And now, having disposed of these small skirmishers who hover round the great body of Artists, we are arrived in presence of the main force, that we must begin to attack in form. In the "partition of the earth," as it has been described by SchiUer, the reader will remember that the poet, finding himself at the end of the general scramble without a single morsel of plunder, applied passionately to Jove, who pitied the poor fellow's condition, and complimented him with a seat in the Empyrean. "The strong and the cunning," says Jupiter, "have seized upon the inheritance of the world, whilst thou wert star- gazing and rhyming : not one single acre remains wherewith I can endow thee ; but, in revenge, if thou art disposed to visit me in my own heaven, conie when thou wilt, it is always open to thee." The cunning and strong have scrambled and struggled more on our own little native spot of earth than in any other place on the world's surface ; and the English poet (whether he handles a pen or a pencil) has little other reftige than that windy unsubstantial one which Jove has vouchsafed to him. Such airy board and lodging is, however, distasteful to many ; who prefer, therefore, to give up their poetical calling, and, in a vulgar beef-eating world, to feed upon and fight for vulgar beef For such persons (among the class of painters), it may be asserted that portrait-painting was invented. It is the Artist's comprornise with heaven; "the light of common day," in which, after a certain quantity of " travel irom the East," the genius fades at last. Abb^ BartMlemy (who sent Le Jeune Anacharsis travel- ling through Greece in the time of Plato, — travelling through ancient Greece in lace rufiles, red heels, and a pigtail), — Abb^ Barthflemy, I say, declares that somebody was once standing against a wall in the sun, and that somebody else traced the outline of somebody's shadow ; and so painting was " invented." Angelica Kaufiinann has made a neat picture of this neat subject ; and very weE. worthy she was of handling it. Her painting might grow out of a waU and a piece of charcoal ; and honest Barthflemy might be satisfied that he had here traced the true origin of the art. What a base pedigree have these abominable Greek, French, and High-Dutch heathens invented for that which is divine ! — a wall, ye gods, to be represented as the father of that which came down THE ARTISTS 5*9 radiant from you ! The man who invented such a blasphemy ought to be impaled upon broken bottles, or shot off pitilessly by spring- guns, nailed to the bricks like a dead owl or a weasel, or tied up — a kind of vulgar Prometheus — and baited for ever by the house-dog. But let not our indignation can-y us too far. Lack of genius in some, of bread in others, of patronage in a shop-keeping world, that thinks only of the useful, and is little inclined to study the sublime, has turned thousands of persons calling themselves, and wishing to be. Artists, into so many common face-painters, who must look out for the "kalon" in the fat features of a red-gilled Alderman, or, at best, in a pretty, simpering, white-necked beauty from " Almack's." The dangerous charms of these latter, especially, have seduced away- many painters ; and we often think that this very physical superi- ority which EngUsh ladies possess, this tempting brilliancy of health and complexion, which belongs to them more than to any others, has operated upon our Artists as a serious disadvantage, and kept them from better things. The Frencli call such beauty " La beauts dii Diable " ; and a devilish power it has truly ; before our Armidas and Helens how many Rinaldos and Parises have fallen, who are con- tent to forget their glorious calling, and slumber away their energies in the laps of these soft tempters. ye British enchantresses ! I never see a gilded annual book without likening it to a small island near Oape Pelorus, in Sicily, whither, by twanging of harps, singing of ravishing melodies, glancing of voluptuous eyes, and the most beautiful fashionable undress in the world, the naughty sirens lured the passing seaman. Steer clear of them, ye Artists ! pull, pull for your lives, ye crews of Suffolk Street and the Water-Colour Gallery ! stop your ears, bury your eyes, tie yourselves to the mast, and away with you from the gaudy smiling " Books of Beauty." Land, and you are ruined ! Look well among the flowers on yonder beach — it is whitened with the bones of painters. For my part, I never have a model under seventy, and her with several shawls and a cloak on. By these means the imagination gets fair play, and the morals remain unendangered. Personalities are odious ; but let the British public look at the pictures of the celebrated Mr. Shalloon — the moral British public — and say whether our grandchildren (or the grandchildren of the exalted personages whom Mr. Shalloon paints) will not have a queer idea of the manners of their grandmammas, as they are represented in the most beautiful, dexterous, captivating water-colour drawings that ever were 1 Heavenly powers, how they simper and ogle I with what gimcracks of lace, ribbons, ferronniferes, smelling-bottles, and what not, is every one of them overloaded. What shoulders, what ringlets, what funny little pug-dogs do they most of them exhibit to 530 CHARACTEE SKETCHES us ! The days of Lancret and Watteau are lived over again, and the Court ladies of the time of Queen Victoria look as moral arj the immaculate countesses of the days of Louis Quinze. The last President of the Eoyal Academy * is answerable for many sins, and many imitators ; especially for that gay, simpering, meretricious look which he managed to give to every lady who sat to him for her portrait ; and I do not know a more curious contrast than that which may be perceived by any one who will examine a collection of his portraits by the side of some by Sir Joshua Eeynolds. They seem to have painted different races of people ; and when one hears very old gentlemen talking of the superior beauty that existed in their early days (as very old gentlemen, from Nestor downwards, have and wiU), one is inclined to believe that there is some truth in what they say; at least, that the men and women imder George the Third were far superior to their descendants in the time of George the Fourth. Whither has it fled — that calm matronly grace, or beautiful virgin innocence, which belonged to the happy women who sat to Sir Joshua ? Sir Thomas's ladies are ogling out of their gilt frames, and asking us for admiration ; Sir Joshua's sit quiet, in maiden meditation fancy free, not anxious for applause, but sure to command it ; a thousand times more lovely in their sedate serenity than Sir Thomas's ladies in their smiles, and their satin baU-dresses. But this is not the general notion, and the ladies prefer the manner of the modem Artist. Of course, such being the case, the painters must follow the fashion. One could point out half-a-dozen Artists who, at Sir Thomas's death, have seized upon a shred of his somewhat tawdry mantle. There is Carmine, for instance, a man of no small repute, who will stand as the representative of his Carmine has had the usual education of a painter in this country : he can read and write — that is, has spent years drawing the figure — and has made his foreign tour. It may be that he had original talent once, but he has learned to forget this, as the great bar to his success ; and must imitate, in order to live. He is among Artists what a dentist is among surgeons — a man who is employed to decorate the human head, and who is paid enormously for so doing. You know one of Carmine's beauties at any exhibition, and see the process by which they are manufactiu-ed. He lengthens the noses, widens the foreheads, opens the eyes, and gives them the proper languishing leer ; diminishes the mouth, and in- fallibly tips the ends of it with a pretty smile of his favourite colour. * Sir Thomas Lawrence. THE AKTISTS 531 He is a personable, white-handed, bald-headed, middle-aged man now, with that grave blandness of look which one sees in so many prosperous empty-headed people. He has a collection of little stories and Court gossip about Lady This, and "my particular friend, Lord So-and So," which he lets off in succession to every sitter : indeed, a most bland, irreproachable, gentlemanlike man. He gives most patronising advice to young Artists, and makes a point of praising all — not certainly too much, but in a gentleman- like, indifferent, simpering way. This should be the maxim with prosperous persons, who have had to make their way, and wish to keep what they have made. They praise everybody, and are called good-natured benevolent men. Surely no benevolence is so easy ; it simply consists in lying, and smiling, and wisliing everybody well. You will get to do so quite naturally at last, and at no expense of truth. At first, when a man has feelings of his own — feelings of love or of anger — this perpetual grin and good-humour is hard to maintain. I used to imagine, when I first knew Carmine, that there were some particular springs in his wig (that glossy, oily, curly crop of chestnut hair) that pulled up his features into a smile, and kept the muscles so fixed for the day. I don't think so now, and should say he grinned, even when he was asleep and his teeth were out ; the smile does not lie in the manufacture of the wig, but in the construction of the brain. Claude Carmine has the organ of don't care-a-damn-ativeness wonderfully developed ; not that reckless don't-care-a-damn-ativeness which leads a man to disregard all the world, and himself into the bargain. Claude stops before he comes to himself; but beyond that individual member of the Royal Academy, has not a single sympathy for a single human creature. The account of his friends' deaths, woes, misfortunes, or good-luck, he receives with, equal good-nature ; he gives three splendid dinners per annum, — GKrater, Dukes, Fortnum and Mason, everything j he dines out the other three hundred and sixty-two days in the year, and was never known to give away a shilling, or to advance, for one half-hour, the forty pounds per quarter wages that he gives to Mr. Scumble, who works the backgrounds, limbs, and draperies of his portraits. He is not a good painter : how should he be whose painting as it were never goes beyond a whisper, and who would make a general simpering as he looked at an advancing cannon-ball ? — but he is not a bad painter, being a keen respectable man of the world, who has a cqol head, and knows what is what. In France, where tigerism used to be the fashion among the painters, I make no doubt Carmine would have let his beard and wig grow, and looked the fiercest of the fierce ; but with us a man must be genteel ; the perfection of 532 CHARACTEE SKETCHES style (in writing and in drawing-rooms) being " de tie pas en avoir ^' Carmine of course is agreeably vapid. His conversation has ac- cordingly the flavour and briskness of a clear, brilliant, stale bottle of sodsrwater, — once in five minutes or so, you see rising up to the surface a little bubble — a little tiny shining point of wit — it rises and explodes feebly, and then dies. With regard to wit, people of fashion (as we are given to understand) are satisfied with a mere soupgon of it. Anything more were indecorous ; a genteel stomach could not bear it : Carmine knows the exact proportions of the dose, and would not venture to administer to his sitters anything beyond the requisite quantity. There is a great deal more said here about Carmine — the man, than Carmine — the Artist; but what can be written about the latter ? New ladies in white satin, new Generals in red, new Peers in scarlet and ermine, and stout Members of Parliament pointing to inkstands and sheets of letter-paper, with a Turkey-carpet beneath them, a red curtain above them, a Doric pillar supporting them, and a tremendous storm of thunder and lightning lowering and flashing in the background, spring up every year, and take their due positions " upon the line " in the Academy, and send their complements of hundreds to swell Carmine's heap of Consols. If he paints Lady Flummery for the tenth time, in the character of the tenth Muse, what need have we to say anything about it ? The man is a good workman, and wiU manufacture a decent article at the best price ; but we should no more think of noticing each, than of writing fresh critiques upon every new coat that Nugee or Stultz turned out. The papers say, in reference to his picture "No. 591. 'FuU-length por- trait of her Grace the Duchess of Dolflrum. Carmine, E.A.' Mr. Carmine never fails ; this work, like aU others by the same artist, is excellent." — Or, "No. 591, &c. The lovely Duchess of Doldrum has received from Mr. Carmine's pencil ample justice; the chiar' oscuro of the picture is perfect ; the likeness admirable ; the keep- ing and colouring have the true Titianesque gusto ; if we might hint a fault, it has the left ear of the lapdog a 'little' out of drawing." Then, perhaps, comes a criticism which says : " The Duchess of Doldrum's picture by Mr. Carmine is neither better nor worse than five hundred other performances of the same artist. It would be very unjust to say that these portraits are bad, for they have really a considerable cleverness ; but to say that they were good, would be quite as false ; nothing in our eyes was ever further from being so. Every ten years Mr. Carmine exhibits what is called an original picture of three inches square, but beyond this, nothing original is to be found in him : as a lad, he copied Reynolds, then THE ARTISTS $^3 Opie, then Lawrence ; then having made a sort of style of his own, he has copied himself ever since," &c. And then the critic goes on to consider the various parts of Carmine's pictures. In speaking of critics, their pecuUar- relation- ship with painters ought not to be forgotten ; and as in a former paper we have seen how a fashionable authoress has her critical toadies, in like manner has the painter his enemies and friends in the press ; with this difference, probably, that the writer can bear a fair quantity of abuse vrtthout wincing, while the artist not un^ commonly grows mad at such strictures, considers them as personal matters, inspired by a private feeling of hostility, and hates the critic for hfe who has ventured to question his judgment in any way. We have said before, poor Academicians, for how many conspiracies are you made to answer ! We may add now, poor critics, what black personal animosities are discovered for you, when you happen (right or wrong, but according to your best ideas) to speak the truth ! Say that Snooks's picture is badly coloured, — " O heavens ! " shrieks Snooks, "what can I have done to offend this fellow?" Hint that such a figure is badly drawn — and Snooks instantly declares you to be bis personal enemy, actuated only by envy and vile pique. My friend Pebbler, himself a famous Artist, is of opinion that the critic should never abuse the painter's performances, because, says he, the painter knows much better than any one else what his own faults are, and because you never do him any good. Are men . of the brush so obstinate ? — ^very likely ; but the public — the public 1 are we not to do our duty by it too 1 and, aided by our superior knowledge and genius for the fine arts, point out to it the way it should go ? Yes, surely ; and as by the efforts of dull or interested critics many bad painters have been palmed off upon the nation as geniuses of the first degree ; in like manner, the sagacious and disinterested (like some we could name) have endeavoured to provide this British nation with pure principles of taste, — or at least, to prevent them from adoptiag such as are impure. Carmine, to be sure, comes in for very little abuse ; and, indeed, he deserves but little. He is a fashionable painter, and preserves the golden mediocrity which is necessary for the fashion. Let us bid him good-bye. He lives in a house all to himself, most likely, ■ — has a footman, sometimes a carriage; is apt to belong to the " Athenaeum " ; and dies universally respected : that is, not one single soul cares for him dead, as he, hving, did not care for one single soul. Then, perhaps, we should mention M'Gilp, or Blather, rising young men, who will fill Carmine's place one of these days, and occupy his house in , when the fulness of time shall come, and S34 CHARACfEK SKETCHES (he bome to a narrow grave in the Harrow Road by the whole mourning Royal Academy) they shall leave their present first-floor in Newman Street, and step into his very house and shoes. There is little difference between the juniors and the seniors : they grin when they are talking of him together, and express a perfect confidence that they can paint a head against Carmine any day — as very likely they can. But until his demise, they are occupied with painting people about the Regent's Park and Russell Square ; are very glad to have the chance of a popular clergyman, or a college tutor, or a; mayor of Stoke Poges after the Reform Bill. Such characters are commonly mezzotinted afterwards; and the portrait of our esteemed townsman So-and-So, by that talented artist Mr. M'Gilp, of London, is favourably noticed by the pro- vincial press, and is to be found over the sideboards of many country gentlemen. If they come up to town, to whom do they gol To M'Gilp, to be sure; and thus, slowly, his practice and his prices increase. The Academy student is a personage that should not be omitted here ; he resembles very much, outwardly, the medical student, and has many of the latter's habits and pleasures. He very often wears a broad-biimmed hat and a fine dirty crimson velvet waistcoat, his hair commonly grows long, and he has braiding to his pantaloons. He works leisurely at the Academy, he loves theatres, bUliards, and novels, and has his house-of-call somewhere in the neighbourhood of St. Martin's Lane, where he and his brethren meet and sneer at Royal Academicians. If you ask Mm what line of art he pursues, he answers with a smile exceedingly supercilious, " Sir, I am an historical painter ; " meaning that he will only condescend to take subjects from Hume, or Robertson, or from the classics — which he knows nothing about. This stage of an historical painter is only preparatory, lasting perhaps from eighteen to five-and-twenty, when the gentleman's madness begins to disappear, and he comes to look at life sternly in the face, and to learn that man shall not live by historical painting alone. Then our friend falls to portrait-painting or animal-painting, or makes some other such sad compromise with necessity. He has probably a small patrimony, which defrays the charge of his studies and cheap pleasures during his period of apprentice- ship. He makes the oMigS tour to France and Italy, and returns from those countries vrtth a multitude of spoiled canvases, and a large pair of moustaches, with which he establishes himself in one of the dingy streets of Soho before mentioned. There is poor Pipson, a man of indomitable patience, and undying enthusiasm for his profession. He could paper Exeter Hall with his studies THE ARTISTS i35 from the life, and with portraits in chalk and oil of French sapeurs and Italian brigands, that kindly descend from their mountain- caverns, and quit their murderous occupations, in order to sit to young gentlemen at Eome, at the rate of tenpence an hour. Pipson returns from abroad, establishes himself, has his cards printed, and waits and waits for commissions for great historical pictures. Mean- while, night after night, he is to be found at his old place in the Academy, copying the old life-guardsman — working, working away — and never advancing one jot. At eighteen, Pipson copied statues and life-guardsmen to admiration ; at five-and-thirty he can make admirable drawings of life-guardsmen and statues. Beyond this he never goes ; year after year his historical picture is returned to him by the envious Academicians, and he grows old, and his little patrimony is long since spent ; and he earns nothing himself. How does he support hope and life ? — that is the wonder. No one knows until he tries (which God forbid he should !) upon what a small matter hope and life can be supported. Our poor fellow lives on from year to year in a miraculous Way ; tolerably cheerful in the midst of his semi-starvation, and wonderfully confident about next year, in spite of the failures of the last twenty-five. Let us thank God for imparting to us, poor weak mortals, the inestimable blessing of vanity. How many half-witted votaries of the arts — poets, painters, actors, musicians — live upon this food, and scarcely any other ! If the delusion were to drop from Pipson's eyes, and he should see himself as he is, — if some malevolent genius were to mingle with his feeble brains one fatal particle of common sense, — he would just walk off Waterloo Bridge, and abjure poverty, in- capacity, cold lodgings, unpaid baker's biUs, ragged elbows,- and deferred hopes, at once and for ever. We do not mean to depreciate the profession of historical painting, but simply to warn youth against it as dangerous and unprofitable. It is as if a young fellow should say, " I wiU be a EafiiEielle or a Titian, — a Milton or a Shakespeare," and if he will count up how many people have lived since the world began, and how many there have been of the Rafiaelle or Shakespeare sort, he can calculate to a nicety what are the chances in his favom:. Even successful his- torical painters, what are they 1 — in a worldly point of view, they mostly inhabit the second-floor, or have great desolate studios- in back premises, whither life-guardsmen, old-clothesmen, blackamoors, and other "properties" are conducted, to figure at fuU length as Roman conquerors, Jewish high-priests, or Othellos on canvas. Then there are gay smart water-colour painters, — a flourishing and pleasant trade. Then there are shabby, fierce-looking geniuses, in ringlets, and aU but rags, who paint, and whose pictures are never sold, and who 53(5 CHARACTER SKETCHES vow they are the objects of some general and scoundrelly conspiracy. There are landscape-painters, who travel to the uttermost ends of the earth and brave heat and cold, to bring to the greedy British public views of Cairo, Calcutta, St. Petersburg, Timbuctoo. You see English artists under the shadow of the Pyramids, making sketches of the Copts, perched on the backs of dromedaries, accompanying a caravan across the desert, or getting materials for an annual in Iceland or Siberia. What genius and what energy do not they all exhibit — - these men, whose profession, in this vrise country of ours, is scarcely considered as liberal ! If we read the works of the Reverend Doctor Lemprifere, Mon- sieur Winckelmann, Professor Plato, and others who have written concerning the musty old Grecians, we shall find that the Artists of those barbarous times meddled with all sorts of trades besides their own, and dabbled in fighting, philosophy, metaphysics, both Scotch and German, politics, music, and the deuce knows what. A rambling sculptor, who used to go about giving lectures in those days, Socrates by name, declared that the wisest of men in his time were Artists. This Plato, before mentioned, went through a regular course of draw- ing, figure and landscape, black-lead, chalk, with or without stump, sepia, water-colour, and oils. Was there ever such absurdity Imown ? Among these benighted heathens, painters were the most accomplished gentlemen, — and the most accomplished gentlemen were painters : the former would make you a speech, or read you a dissertation on Kant, or lead you a regiment, — with the very best statesman, philo- sopher, or soldier in Athens. And they had the folly to say, that by thus busying and accomplishing themselves in all manly studies, they were advancing eminently in their own peculiar one. What was the consequence ? Why, that fellow Socrates not only made a miserable fifth-rate sculptor, but was actually hanged for treason. And serve him right. Do owr young artists study anything beyond the proper way of cutting a pencil, or drawing a model ? Do you hear of iheTn hard at work over books, and bothering their brains with musty learning % Not they, forsooth : we understand the doctrine of division of labour, and each man sticks to his trade. Artists do not meddle with the pursuits of the rest of the world; and, in revenge, the rest of the world does not meddle with Artists. Fancy an Artist being a senior wrangler or a politician ; and, on the other hand, fancy a real gentleman turned painter ! No, no ; ranks are defined. A real gentleman may get money by the law, or by wearing a red coat and fighting, or a black one and preaching ; but that he should sell himself to Art — forbid it. Heaven ! And do not let your Ladyship on reading this cry " Stuff ! — stupid envy, rank re- publicanism, — an artist is a gentleman." Madam, would you like to THE ARTISTS 537 see your son, the Honourable Fitzroy Plantagenet, a painter ? You would die sooner ; the escutcheon of the Smigsmags would be blotted for ever, if Plantagenet ever ventured to make a mercantile use of a bladder of paint. Time was — some hundred years back — when writers lived in Grub Street, and poor ragged Johnson shrank behind a screen in Cave's parlour — that the author's trade was considered a very mean one, which a gentleman of family could not take up but as an amateur. This absurdity is pretty nearly worn out now, and I do humbly hope and pray for the day when the other shall likewise disappear. If there be any nobleman with a talent that way, why — why don't we see him among the R. A.'s ? 501. The Schoolmaster. Sketch ( ^™' ^ J^Mrd, B.A FES taken abroad . ) S A of the ]\ ationcd Institute \ of Jf ranee. 502. View of the Artist's Resi- ( Maconkey, Right Honourable dence at Windsor .J T. B. 503. Murder of the Babes in the ) Rustle, Lord J. Tower . . . j Pill, Right Honourable Sir Robert. 504. A Little Agitation . . O'Carrol, Daniel, M.R.I.A. Fancy, I say, such names as these figuring in the Catalogue of the Academy : and why should they not 1 The real glorious days of the art (which wants equality and not patronage) will revive then. Patronage — a plague on the word ! — it implies inferiority ; and in the name of all that is sensible, why is a respectable country gentle- man, or a city attorney's lady, or any person of any rank, however exalted, to " patronise " an Ajrtist ? There are some who sigh for the past times, when magnificent swaggering Peter Paul Rubens (who himself patronised a queen) rode abroad with a score of gentlemen in his train, and a purse- bearer to scatter ducats ; and who love to think how he was made an English knight and a Spanish grandee, and went of embassies as if he had been a bom marquis. Sweet it is to remember, too, that Sir Antony Vandyck, K.B., actually married out of the peerage : and that when Titian dropped his mahlstick, the Emperor Charles V. picked it up (0 gods ! what heroic self-devotion) — picked it up, saying, " I can make fifty dukes, but not one Titian." Nay, was not the Pope of Rome going to make Raifaelle a Cardinal, — and were not these golden days ? Let us say at once, " No." The very fuss made about certain painters in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries shows that the body of Artists had no ?:aii^ or position in the wprjd. They hun^ 538 CHARACTER SKETCHES upon single patrons : and every man who holds his place by such a tenure must feel himself an inferior, more or less. The times are changing now, and as authors are no longer compelled to send their works abroad under the guardianship of a great man and a slavish dedication, painters, too, are beginning to deal directly with the public. Who are the great picture-buyers now? — the engravers and their employers, the people, — "the only source of legitimate power," as they say after dinner. A fig then for Cardinals' hats ! Were Mr. O'ConneU in power to-morrow, let us hope he would not give one, not even a paltry bishopric in partibus, to the best painter in the Academy. What need have they of honours out of the profession? Why are they to be be-knighted like a parcel of aldermen ? — for my part, I solemnly declare, that I will take nothing under a peerage, after the exhibition of my great picture, and don't see, if painters m,ust have titles conferred upon them for eminent services, why the Marquis of Mulready or the Earl of Landseer should not sit in the House as well as any law or soldier lord. The truth to be elicited from this little digressive dissertation is this painful one, — that young Artists are not generally as well instructed as they should be ; and let the Royal Academy look to it, and give some sound courses of lectures to their pupils on literature and history, as well as on anatomy, or light and shade. THE FATAL BOOTS THE FATAL BOOTS JANUARY— THE BIRTH OF THE YEAR SOME poet has observed, that if any man would write down what has really happened to him in this mortal life he would be sure to make a good book, though he never had met with a single adventure from his birth to his burial. How much more, then, must I, who have had adventures, most singular, pathetic, and unparalleled, be able to compile an instructive and entertaining volume for the use of the public. I don't mean to "say that I have killed lions, or seen the wonders of travel in the deserts of Arabia or Persia ; or that I have been a very fashionable character, living with dukes and peeresses, and writing my recollections of them, as the way now is. I never left this my native isle, nor spoke to a lord (except an Irish one, who had rooms in our house, and forgot to pay three weeks' lodging and extras) ; but, as our immortal bard observes, I have in the course of my existence been so eaten up by the slugs and harrows of out- rageous fortune, and have been the object of such continual and extraordinary ill-luck, that I believe it would melt the heart of a milestone to read of it — that is, if a milestone had a heart of any- thing but stone. Twelve of my adventures, suitable for meditation and perusal during the twelve months of the year, have been arranged by me for this work. They contain a part of the history of a great, and, confidently I may say, a good man. I was not a spendthrift like other men. I never wronged any man of a shUling, though I am as sharp a fellow at a bargain as any in Europe. I never injured a fellow-creature ; on the contrary, on several occasions, when, injured myself, have shown the most wonderful forbearance. I come of a tolerably good family ; and yet, born to wealth — ^of an inoffensive disposition, careful of the money that I had, and eager to get more, — I have been going down hill ever since my journey of life began, and have been pursued by a complication of misfortunes 54^ THE FATAL BOOTS such as surely never happened to any man but the unhappy Bob Stubbs. Bob Stubbs is my name ; and I haven't got a shilling : I have borne the commission of lieutenant in the service of King George, and am now — but never mind what I am now, for the public will know in a few pages more. My father was of the Suffolk Stubbses — a well-to-do gentleman of Bungay. My grandfather had been a respected attorney in that town, and left my papa a pretty little fortune. I was thus the inheritor of competence, and ought to be at this moment a gentleman. My misfortunes may be said to have commenced about a year before my birth, when my papa, a young fellow pretending to study the law in London, feU macUy in love with Miss Smith, the daughter of a tradesman, who did not give her a sixpence, and afterwards became bankrupt. My papa married this Miss Smith, and carried her off to the country, where I was born, in an evil hour for me. Were I to attempt to describe my early years, you would laugh at me as an impostor; but the following letter from mamma to a friend, after her marriage, wiU pretty well show you what a poor foolish creature she was ; and what a reckless extravagant fellow was my other unfortunate parent : — To Miss Eliza Kicks, in Graceehivrch Street, London. " Oh, Eliza ! your Susan is the happiest girl under heaven ! My Thomas is an angel ! not a tall grenadier-like looking fellow, such as I always vowed I would marry : — on the contrary, he is what the world would call dumpy, and I hesitate not to confess that his eyes have a cast in them. But what then ? when one of his eyes is fixed on me, and one on my babe, they are Ughted up with an affection which my pen cannot describe, and which, cer- tainly, was never bestowed upon any woman so strongly as upon your happy Susan Stubbs. " When he comes home from shooting, or the farm, if you could see dear Thomas with me and our dear little Bob ! as I sit on one knee, and baby on the other, and as he dances us both about. I often wish that we had Sir Joshua, or some great painter, to depict the group ; for sure it is the prettiest picture in the whole world, to see three such loving merry people. " Dear baby is the most lovely little creature that can possibly he — the very image of papa ; he is cutting his teeth, and the dehght of everybody. Nurse says that, when he is older, he will get rid of his squint, and liis hair wiU get a great deal less red. Doctor Bates is as kind, and skilful, and attentive as we could desire. THE BIRTH OF THE YEAR 543 Think what a blessing to have had him ! Ever since poor baby's birth, it has never had a day of quiet ; and he has been obliged to give it from three to four doses every week ; — how thankful ought we to be that the dear thing is as well as it is ! It got through the measles wonderftdly ; then it had a little rash ; and then a nasty hooping-cough; and then a fever, and continual pains in its poor little stomach, crying, poor dear child, from morning till night. " But dear Tom is an excellent nurse ; and many and many a night has he had no sleep, dear man ! in consequence of the poor little baby. He walks up and down with it for hours, singing a kind of song (dear fellow, he has no more voice than a tea-kettle), and bobbing his head backwards and forwards, and looking, in bis nightcap and dressing-gown, so droll. Oh, Eliza ! how you would laugh to see him. "•We have one of the best nursemaids in the world, an Irish- woman, who is as fond of baby almost as his mother (but that can never he). She takes it to walk in the park for hours together, and I really don't know why Thomas dislikes her. He says she is tipsy, very often, and slovenly, which I cannot conceive ; — to be sure, the nurse is sadly dirty, and sometimes smells very strong of gin. " But what of that ? — these little drawbacks only make home more pleasant. When one thinks how many mothers have no nursemaids : how many poor dear children have no doctors : ought we not to be thankful for Mary Malowney, and that Doctor Bates's bill is forty-seven pounds % How ill must dear baby have been, to require so much physic ! " But they are a sad expense, these dear babies, after all. Fancy, Eliza, how much this Mary Malowney costs us. Ten shillings every week ; a glass of brandy or gin at dinner ; three pint-bottles of Mr. Thrale's best porter every day — making twenty- one in a week, and nine hundred and ninety in the eleven months she has been with us. Then, for baby, there is Doctor Bates's bill of forty-five guineas, two guineas for christening, twenty for a grand christening supper and ball (rich Uncle John mortally offended because he was made godfather, and had to give baby a silver cup : he has struck Thomas out of his will : and old Mr. Firkin quite as much hurt because he was not asked : he wiU not speak to me or Thomas in consequence) ; twenty guineas for flannels, laces, little gowns, caps, napkins, and such baby's ware : and all this out of three hundred pounds a year ! But Thomas expects to make a great deal by his farm. " We have got the most charming country-house you can imagine: it is quite shut in by trees, and so retired that, though only thirty miles from London, the post comes to us but once a week. The 544 THE FATAL BOOTS roads, it must be confessed, are execrable ; it is winter now, and we are up to our knees in mud and snow. But oh, Eliza ! how happy we are : with Thomas (he has had a sad attack of rheumatism, dear man !) and little Bobby, and our kind friend Doctor Bates, who comes so far to see us, I leave you to fancy that we have a charm- ing meny party, and do not care for all the gaieties of Ranelagh. " Adieu ! dear baby is crying for his mamma. A thousand kisses from your affectionate Susan Stubbs." There it is ! Doctor's bUls, gentleman-farming, twenty-one pints of porter a week. In this way my unnatural parents were already robbing me of my property. FEBRUARY— CUTTING WEATHER I HAVE called this chapter " cutting weather," partly in compli- ment to the month of February, and partly in respect of my own misfortunes, which you are going to read about. For I have often thought that January (which is mostly twelfth-cake and holiday-time) is like the first four or five years of a Httle boy's life ; then comes dismal February, and the working-days with it, when chaps begin to look out for themselves, after the Christmas and the New Year's heyday and merry-making are over, which our infancy may well be said to be. Well can I recollect that bitter first of February, when I first launched out into the world and appeared at Doctor Swishtail's academy. I began at school that life of prudence and economy which I have carried on ever since. My mother gave me eighteenpence on setting out (poor soul ! I thought her heart would break as she kissed me, and bade God bless me) ; and, besides, I had a small capital of my own, which I had amassed for a year previous. I'll teU you what I used to do. Wherever I saw six halfpence I took one. If it was asked for, I said I had taken it, and gave it back ; — if it was not missed, I said nothing about it, as why should I? — those who don't miss their money, don't lose their money. So I had a little private fortime of three shiUings, besides mother's eighteen- pence. At school they called me the Copper-Merchant, I had such lots of it. Now, even at a preparatory school, a well-regulated boy may better himself; and I can tell you I did. I never was in any quarrels : I never was very high in the class or very low ; but there was no chap so much respected: — and why? I'd always money. The other boys spent all theirs in the fiist day or two, and they gave me plenty of cakes and barley-sugar then, I can tell you. I'd no need to spend my own money, for they would insist upon treating me. Well, in a week, when theira was gone, and they had but their threepence a week to look to tor the rest of the half-year, what did I do ? Why, I am proud to say that three-halfpence out of the threepence a week of ahnost all the young gentlemen at Doctor Svrishtail's, came into my pocket. Suppose, for instance, Tom 3 2 M S4<5 THE FATAL BOOTS Hicks wanted a slice of gingerbread, who had . le money 1 Little Bob Stubbs, to be sure. " Hicks," I used to say, " I'll buy you three-halfp'orth of gingerbread, if you'll give me threepence next Saturday." And he agreed ; and next Saturday came, and he very often could not pay me more than three-halfpence. Then there was the threepence I was to have the next Saturday. I'll tell you what I did for a whole half-year : I lent a chap, by the name of Dick Bunting, three-halfpence the first Saturday for threepence the next : he could not pay me more than half when Saturday came, and I'm blest if I did not make him pay me three-halfpence for three-and- twenty weeks running, making two shillings and tenpence-halfpenny. But he was a sad dishonourable fellow, Dick Bunting ; for, after I'd been so kind to him, and let him oif for three-ahd-twenty weeks the money he owed me, holidays came, and threepence he owed me still. Well, according to the common principles of practice, after six weeks' holidays, he ought to have paid me exactly sixteen shillings which was my due. For the First week the 3d. would be 6d. Second week . . Is. Third week ... 2s. Fourth week Fifth week Sixth week 16s. Nothing, could be more just; and yet — will it be believed? — when Bunting came back he offered me three-halfpence I the mean dis- honest scoundrel. However, I was even with him, I can tell you. — He spent all his money in a fortnight, and then I screwed him down ! I made him, besides giving me a penny for a penny, pay me a quarter of his bread-and-butter at breakfast and a quarter of his cheese at supper ; and before the half-year was out, I got from him a silver fruit-knife, a box of compasses, and a very pretty silver-laced waist- coat, in which I went home as proud as a king : and, what's more, I had no less than three golden guineas in the pocket of it, besides fifteen shillings, the knife, and a brass bottle-screw, which I got from another chap. It wasn't bad interest for twelve shillings — which was aU the money I'd had in the year — was it ? Heigho ! I've often wished that I could get such a chance again in this wicked world ; but men are more avaricious now than they used to be in those dear early days. Well, I went home in my new waistcoat as fine as a peacock ; and when I gave the bottle-screw to my father, begging him to take it as a token of my affection for him, my dear mother burst into such a fit of tears as I never saw, and kissed and hugged me fit to smother me " Bless him, bless him ! " says she, " to think of CUTTING WEATHER 54? his old father. And where did you purchase it, Bob 1 " — " Why, mother," says I, " I purchased it out of my savings " (which was as true as the gospel). — When I said this, mother looked round to father, smiling, although she had tears in her eyes, and she took his hand, and with her other hand drew me to her. "Is he not a nohle boy 1 " says she to my father : " and only nine years old ! " — " Faith," says my father, " he is a good lad, Susan. Thank thee, my boy ; and here is a crown-piece in return for thy bottle-screw : — it shall open us a bottle of the very best too," says my father. And he kept his word. I always was fond of good wine (though never, from a motive of proper self-denial, having any in my cellar) ; and, by Jupiter ! on this night I had my little skinfiil, — for there was no stinting, — so pleased were my dear parents with the bottle- screw. The best of it was, it only cost me threepence originally, which a chap could not pay me. Seeing this game was such a good one, I became very generous towards my parents ; and a capital way it is to encourage liberality in children. I gave mamma a very neat brass thimble, and she gave me a half-guinea piece. Then I gave her a very pretty needle- book, which I made myself with an ace of spades from a new pack of cards we had, and I got Sally, our maid, to cover it with a bit of pink satin her mistress had given her; and I made the leaves of the book, which I vandyked very nicely, out of a piece of flannel I had had round my neck for a sore throat. It smelt a little of hartshorn, but it was a beautiful needlebook ; and mamma was so delighted with it, that she went into town and bought me a gold- laced hat. Then I bought papa a pretty china tobacco-stopper : but I am sorry to say of my dear father that he was not so generous as my mamma or myself, for he only burst out laughing, and did not give me so much as a half-crown piece, which was the least I expected from him. " I shan't give you anything. Bob, this time, says he ; " and I wish, my boy, you would not make any more such presents, — for, really, they are too expensive." Expensive indeed ! I hate meanness, — even in a father. I must tell you about the silver-edged waistcoat which Bunting gave me. Mamma asked me about it, and I told her the truth, that it was a present from one of the boys for my kindness to him. Well, what does she do but writes back to Doctor Swlshtail, when I went to school, thanking him for his attention to her dear son, and sending a shilling to the good and grateful little boy who had given me the waistcoat ! "What waistcoat is it," says the Doctor to me, "and who gave it to you 1" " Bunting gave it me, sir," says I. 548 THE FATAL BOOTS " Call Bunting ! " And up the little ungrateful chap came. Would you believe it, he burst into tears, — told that the waistcoat had been given him by his mother, and that he had been forced to give it for a debt to Copper-Merchant, as the nasty little black- guard called mel He then said how, for three-halfpence, he had been compelled to pay me three shillings (the sneak ! as if he had been obliged to borrow the three-halfpence !) — how all the other boys had been swindled (swindled !) by me in like manner, — and how, with only twelve shillings, I had managed to scrape together four guineas. . . . My courage almost fails me as I describe the shameful scene that followed. The boys were called in, my own little account- book was dragged out of my cupboard, to prove how much I had received from each, and every farthing of my money was paid back to them. The tyrant took the thirty shillings that my dear parents had given me, and said he should put them into the poor-box at church ; and,, after having made a long discourse to the boys about meanness and usury, he said, "Take off your coat, Mr. Stubbs, and restore Bunting his waistcoat." I did, and stood without coat and waistcoat in the midst of the nasty grinning boys. I was going to put on my coat, — " Stop ! " says he. " Take down his Breeches ! " Kuthless brutal villain ! Sam Hopkins, the biggest boy, took them down — horsed me — and / was flogged, sir : yes, flogged ! revenge ! I, Eobert Stubbs, who had done nothing but what was right, was brutally flogged at ten years of age ! — Though February was the shortest month, I remembered it long. MARCH— SHO WER Y WHEN my mamma heard of the treatment of her darling she was for bringing an action against the schoolmaster, or else for tearing his eyes out (when, dear soul ! she would not have torn the eyes out of a flea, had it been her own injury), and, at the very least, for having me removed from the school where I had been so shamefully treated. But papa was stern for once, and vowed that I had been served quite right, declared that I should not be removed from the school, and sent old Swishtail a brace of pheasants for what he called his kindness to me. Of these the old gentleman invited me to partake, and made a very queer speech at dinner, as he was cutting them up, about the excellence of my parents, and his own determination to be kinder still to me if ever I ventured on such practices again. So I was obliged to give up my old trade of lending : for the Doctor declared that any boy who borrowed should be flogged, and any one who paid should be flogged twice as much. There was no standing against such a prohibition as this, and my little commerce was ruined. I was not very high in the school : not having been able to get farther than that dreadful Propria quce maribus in the Latin grammar, of which, though I have it by heart even now, I never could understand a syllable : but, on account of my size, my age, and the prayers of my mother, was allowed to have the privilege of the bigger boys, and on holidays to walk about in the town. Great dandies we were, too, when we thus went out. I recollect my costume very well : a thunder-and-Ughtning coat, a white waist- coat embroidered neatly at the pockets, a lace friU, a pair of knee- breeches, and elegant white cotton or silk stockings. This did very well, but still I was dissatisfied : I wanted a pair of boots. Three boys in the school had boots — I was mad to have them too. But my papa, when I wrote to him, would not hear of it ; and three pounds, the price of a pair, was too large a sum for my mother to take from the housekeeping, or for me to pay, in the present impoverished state of my exchequer; but the desire iox the boots was so strong, that have them I must at any rate, 5SO THE FATAL BOOTS There was a German bootmaker who had just set up in orir town in those days, who afterwards made his fortune in London. I determined to have the boots from him, and did not despair, before the end of a year or two, either to leave the school, when I should not mind his dunning me, or to screw the money from mamma, and so pay him. So I called upon this man — Stififelkind was his name — and he took my measure for a pair. " You are a vary yong gentleman to wear dop-boots," said the shoemaker. "I suppose, fellow," says I, "that is my business and not yours. Either make the boots or not — but when you speak to a man of my rank, speak respectfully ! " And I poured out a number of oaths, in order to impress him with a notion of my respectability. They had the desired effect. "Stay, sir," says he. "I have a nice littel pair of dop-boots dat I tink will jost do for you." And he produced, sure enough, the most elegant things I ever saw. "Dey were made," said he, "for de Honourable Mr. Stiffney, of de Gards, but were too small." " Ah, indeed ! " said I. " Stiffney is a relation of mine. And what, you scoundrel, will you have the impudence to ask for these things % " He rephed, " Three pounds." " Well," said I, " they are confoundedly dear ; but, as you will have a long time to wait for your money, why, I shall have my revenge, you see." The man looked alarmed, and began a speech : " Sare, — I cannot let dem go vidout " but a bright thought struck me, and I interrupted — " Sir ! don't sir me. Take off the boots, fellow, and, hark ye, when you speak to a nobleman, don't say Sir." " A hundert tousand pardons, my Lort," says he : " if I had known you were a lort, I vood never have called you Sir. Vat name shall I put down in my books 1 " " Name 1 — Oh ! why, Lord Cornwallis, to be sure,'' said I, as I walked off in the boots. " And vat shall I do vid my Lort's shoes ? " " Keep them until I send for them," said I. And giving him a patronising bow, I walked out of the shop, as the German tied up my shoes in paper. This story I would not have told, but that my whole life turned upon these accursed boots. I walked back to school as proud as a peacock, and easily succeeded in satisfying the boys as tP the manner in which I came by my new prnanientB, SHOWERY 551 Well, one fatal Monday morning— the blackest of all black Mondays that ever I knew — as we were all of us playing between school-hours, I saw a posse of boys round a stranger, who seemed to be looking out for one of us. A sudden trembling seized me — I knew it was Stiffelkind. What had brought him here 1 He talked loud and seemed angry. So I rushed into the schookoom, and, burying my head between my hands, began reading for dear life. "I vant Lort CornvalUs," said the horrid bootmaker. "His Lortship belongs, I know, to dis honourable school, for I saw him vid de boys at chorch yesterday." "Lord who?" "Vy, Lort Comvallis to be sure — a very fat yong nobleman, vid red hair : he squints a little, and svears dreadfully." "There's no Lord Comvallis here," said one; and there was a pause. " Stop ! I have it," says that odious Bunting. " /* must be Stubbs I " And " Stubbs ! Stubbs ! " every one cried out, while I was so busy at my book as not to hear a word. At last, two of the biggest chaps rushed into the schoolroom, and, seizing each an arm, ran me into the playground — bolt up against the shoemaker. " Dis is my man. I beg your Lortship's pardon," says he, " I have brought your Lortship's shoes, vich you left. See, dey have been in dis parcel ever since you vent avay in my boots." "Shoes, fellow!" says I. "I never saw your face before." For I knew there was nothing for it but brazening it out. " Upon the honour of a gentleman ! " said I, turning round to the boys. They hesitated ; and if the trick had turned in my favour, fifty of them would have seized hold of Stiffelkind and drubbed him soundly. " Stop ! " says Bunting (hang him !). " Let's see the shoes. If they fit him, why then the cobbler's right." They did fit me ; and not only that, but the name of Stubbs was written in them at fuU length. "Vat!" said Stiffelkind. "Is he not a lort? So help me Himmel, I never did vonce tink of looking at de shoes, which have been lying ever since in dis piece of brown paper." And then, gathering anger as he went on, he thundered out so much of his abuse of me, in his German-English, that the boys roared with laughter. Swishtail came out in the midst of the disturbance, and asked what the noise meant. "It's only Lord OomwaUis, sir," said the boys, "battling with his shoemaker about the price of a pair of top-boots." "Oh, sir," said I, "it was only in fiin that I called myself Lord OornwaJlis," 552 THE FATAL BOOTS " In fun ! — Where are the boots? And you, sir, give me your bill." My beautiful boots were brought; and Stiflfelkind produced his bill. " Lord Oornwallis to Samuel Stiffelkind, for a pair of boots — four guineas." " You have been fool enough, sir," says the Doctor, looking very stem, " to let this boy impose on you as a lord ; and knave enough to charge him double the value of the article you sold him. Take back the boots, sir ! I won't pay a penny of your bill ; nor can you get a penny. As for you, sir, you miserable swindler and cheat, 1 shall not flog you as I did before, but I shall send you home : you are not fit to be the companion of honest boys." " Suppose we duck him before he goes 1 " piped out a very small voice. The Doctor grinned significantly, and left the playground ; and the boys knew by this they might have their will. They seized tne and carried me to the playground pump : they pumped upon me until I was half dead ; and the monster, Stiflfelkind, stood looking on for the half-hour the operation lasted. I suppose the Doctor, at last, thought I had had pumping enough, for he rang the school-bell, and the boys were obliged to leave me. As I got out of the trough, Stiffelkind was alone with me. " Veil, my Lort," says he, " you have paid something for dese boots, but not all. By Jubider, you shall never hear de end of dem." And I didn't. APRIL—FOOLING APTEE this, as you may fancy, I left this disgusting establish- ment, and lived for some time along with pa and mamma at '■ home. My education was finished, at least mamma and I agreed that it was ; and from boyhood until hobbadyhoyhood (which I ta,ke to be about the sixteenth year of the life of a young man, and may be likened to the month of April when spring begins to bloom) — from fourteen until seventeen, I say, I remained at home, doing nothing — for which I have ever since had a great taste — the idol of my mamma, who took part in all my quarrels with father, and used regularly to rob the weekly expenses in order to find me in pocket-money. Poor soul ! many and many is the guinea I have had fi:om her in that way; and so she enabled me to cut a very pretty figure. Papa was for having me at this time articled to a merchant, or put to some profession : but mamma and I agreed that I was born to be a gentleman and not a tradesman, and the army was the only place for me. Everybody was a soldier in those times, for the French war had just begun, and the whole country was swarming with mUitia regiments. " We'll get him a commission in a marching regiment," said my father. "As we have no money to purchase him up, he'll fight his way, I make no doubt." And papa looked at me with a kind of air of contempt, as much as to say he doubted whether I should be very eager for such a dangerous way of better- ing myself. I wish you could have heard mamma's screech when he talked so coolly of my going out to fight! "What, send him abroad, across the horrid, horrid sea — to be wrecked and perhaps drowned, and only to land for the purpose of fighting the wicked Frenchmen, — to be wounded and perhaps kick — kick — killed ! Oh, Thomas, Thomas ! would you murder me and your boy ? " There was a regular scene. However, it ended — as it always did — in mother's getting the better, and it was settled that I should go into the militia. And why not? The imiform is just as handsome, and the danger not half so great. I don't think in the course of my whole military experience I ever fought anything, except an old 554 THE FATAL BOOTS woman, who had the impudence to hollo out, " Heads up, lobster ! " — Well, I joined the North Bungays, and was fairly launched into the world. I was not a handsome man, I know ; but there was something about me — that's very evident — for the girls always laughed when they talked to me, and the men, though they aflfected to caU me a poor little creature, squint-eyes, knock-knees, red-head, and so on, were evidently annoyed by my success, for they hated me so con- foundedly. Even at the present time they go on, though I have given up gallivanting, as I call it. But in the April of my existence, — that is, in anno Domini 1791, or so — it was a different case; and having nothing else to do, and being bent upon bettering my condition, I did some very pretty things in that way. But I was not hot-headed and imprudent, like most young feUows. Don't fancy I looked for beauty ! Pish ! — I wasn't such a fool. Nor for temper ; I don't care about a bad temper : I could break any woman's heart in two years. What I wanted was to get on in the world. Of course I didn't prefer an ugly woman, or a shrew ; and when the choice offered, would certainly put up with a handsome good- humoured girl, with plenty of money, as any honest man would. Now there were two tolerably rich girls in our parts : Miss Magdalen Crutty, with twelve thousand pounds (and, to do her justice, as plain a girl as ever I saw), and Miss Mary Waters, a fine, tall, plump, smiling, peach-cheeked, golden-haired, white-skinned lass, with only ten. Mary Waters lived with her uncle, the Doctor, who had helped me into the world, and who was trusted with this little orphan charge very soon after. My mother, as you have heard, was so fond of Bates, and Bates so fond of little Mary, that both, at first, were almost always in our house ; and I used to call her my little wife as soon as I could speak, and before she could walk almost. It was beautiful to see us, the neighbours said. Well, when her brother, the lieutenant of an India ship, came to be captain, and actually gave Mary five thousand pounds when she was about ten years old, and promised her five thousand more, there was a great talking, and bobbing, and smiling between the Doctor and my parents, and Mary and I were left together more than ever, and she was told to call me her little husband. And she did ; and it was considered a settled thing from that day. She was really amazingly fond of me. Can any one call me mercenary after that ? Though Miss Crutty had twelve thousand, and Mary only ten (five in hand, and five in the bush), I stuck faithfully to Mary. As a matter of course. Miss Crutty hated Miss Waters. The fact was, Mary had all the country dangling after her, and not a soul would come to Magdalen, for all POOLING 555 her twelve thousand pounds. I used to be attentive to her though (as it's always useful to be) ; and Mary would sometimes laugh and sometimes cry at my flirting with Magdalen. This I thought proper very quickly to check. "Mary," said I, "you know that my love for you is disinterested, — for I am faithful to you, though Miss Crutty is richer than you. Don't fly into a rage, then, because I pay her attentions, when you know that my heart and my promise are engaged to you." The fact is, to tell a little bit of a secret, there is nothing like the having two strings to your bow. " Who knows 1 " thought I. " Mary may die : and then where are my ten thousand pounds ? " So I iised to be very kind indeed to Miss Orutty ; and well it was that I was so : for when I was twenty and Mary eighteen, I'm blest if news did not arrive that Captain Waters, who was coming home to England with all his money in rupees, had been taken — ship, rupees, self and all — by a French privateer ; and Mary, instead of ten thousand pounds, had only five thousand, making a difference of no less than three hundred and fifty pounds per annum betwixt her and Miss Crutty. I had just joined my regiment (the famous North Bungay Fencibles, Colonel Craw commanding) when this news reached me ; and you may fancy how a young man, in an expensive regiment and mess, having imiforms and what not to pay for, and a figure to cut in the world, felt at hearing such news ! " My dearest Eobert," wrote Miss Waters, " will deplore my dear brother's loss : but not, I am sure, the money which that kind and generous soul had promised me. I have stUl five thousand pounds, and with this and your own little fortune (I had one thousand pounds in the Five per Cents.) we shall be as happy and contented as possible." Happy and contented indeed ! Didn't I know how my father got on with his three hundred pounds a year, and how it was all he could do out of it to add a hundred a year to my narrow income, and live himself? My mind was made up. I instantly mounted the coach and flew to our vUlage, — to Mr. Crutty's, of course. It was next door to Doctor Bates's ; but I had no business there. I found Magdalen in the garden. " Heavens, Mr. Stubbs ! " said she, as in my new uniform I appeared before her, "I really did never — such a handsome officer — expect to see you." And she made as if she would blush, and began to tremble violently. I led her to a garden-seat. I seized her hand — it was not withdrawn. I pressed it ; — I thought the pressure was returned. I flung myself on my knees, and then I poured into her ear a little speech which I had made on the top of the coach. " Divine Miss Crutty," said I ; " idol of my soul ! It was but to catch one glimpse of you that I 556 THE FATAL BOOTS passed through this garden. I never intended to breathe the secret passion " (oh no ; of course not) " which was wearing my Ufe away. You know my unfortunate pre-engagement — ^it is broken, and far ever I I am free ; — free, but to be your slave, — your humblest, fondest, truest slave ! " And so on. . . . " Oh, Mr. Stubbs," said she, as I imprinted a kiss upon her cheek, " I can't refuse you ; but I fear you are a sad naughty man. ..." Absorbed in the delicious reverie which was caused by the dear creature's confusion, we were both silent for a while, and should have remained so for hours perhaps, so lost were we in happiness, had I not been suddenly roused by a voice exclaiming from behind us — " Don't cry, Mary ! He is a swindling sneaking scoundrel, and you are well rid of him ! " I turned round. Heaven, there stood Mary, weeping on Doctor Bates's arm, while that miserable apothecary was looking at me with the utmost scorn. The gardener, who had let me in, had told them of my arrival, and now stood grinning behind them. " Imperence ! " was my Magdalen's only exclamation, as she flounced by with the utmost self-possession, while I, glancing daggers at the spies, followed her. We retired to the parlour, where she re- peated to me the strongest assurances of her love. I thought I was a made man. Alas I I was only an Afbil Fool ! MAY— RESTORATION DAY AS the month of May is considered, by poets and other philo- sophers, to be devoted by nature to the great purpose of ^ love-making, I may as well take advantage of that season and acquaint you with the result of my amours. Young, gay, fascinating, and an ensign — I had completely won the heart of my Magdalen ; and as for Miss Waters and her nasty uncle the Doctor, there was a complete split between us, as you may fancy; Miss pretending, forsooth, that she was glad I had broken off the match, though she would have given her eyes, the little minx, to have had it on again. But this was out of the question. My father, who had all sorts of queer notions, said I had acted like a rascal in the business ; my mother took my part, of course, and declared I acted rightly, as I always did : and I got leave of absence from the regiment in order to press my beloved Magdalen to marry me out of hand — knowing, from reading and experience, the extraordinary mutability of human aifairs. Besides, as the dear girl was seventeen years older than myself, and as bad in health as she was in temper, how was I to know that the grim king of terrors might not carry her off before she became mine 1 With the tenderest warmth, then, and most delicate ardour, I continued to press my suit. The happy day was fixed — the ever-memorable 10th of May 1792. The wedding-clothes were ordered; and, to make things secure, I penned a little paragraph for the county paper to this effect : " Marriage in High Life. We understand that Ensign Stubbs, of the North Bungay Fencibles, and son of Thomas Stubbs, of Sloffemsquiggle, Esquire, is about to lead to the hymeneal altar the lovely and accomphshed daughter of Solomon Orutty, Esquire, of the same place. A fortune of twenty thousand pounds is, we hear, the lady's portion. ' None but the brave deserve the fair.' " Have you informed your relatives, my beloved ? " said I to Magdalen one day after sending the above notice; "will any of them attend at your marriage ? " 558 THE FATAL BOOTS " Uncle Sam will, I dare say," said Miss Orutty, " dear mamma's brother." " And who was your dear mamma ? " said I : for Miss Crutty's respected parent had been long since dead, and I never heard her name mentioned in the family. Magdalen blushed, and cast down her eyes to the ground. " Mamma was a foreigner," at last she said. " And of what country ? " " A German. Papa married her when she was very young : — she was not of a very good famUy/' said Miss Orutty, hesitating. " And what care I for family, my love ! " said I, tenderly kissing the knuckles of the hand which I held. " She must have been an angel who gave birth to you." " She was a shoemaker's daughter." " A German shoemaker I Hang 'em ! " thought I, " I have had enough of them ; " and so broke up this conversation, which did not somehow please me. Well, the day was drawing near : the clothes were ordered ; the banns were read. My dear mamma had built a cake about the size of a washing-tub ; and I was only waiting for a week to pass to put me in possession of twelve thousand poTinds in the Five per Cents., as they were in those days. Heaven bless 'em. Little did I know the storm that was brewing, and the disappointment which was to fall upon a young man who reaUy did his best to get a fortune. " Oh, Robert ! " said my Magdalen to me, two days before the match was to come off, "I have such a kind letter from Uncle Sam in London. I wrote to him as you wished. He says that he is coming down to-morrow ; that he has heard of you often, and knows your character very well; and that he has got a very handsome present for us ! What can it be, I wonder f " "Is he rich, my soul's adored 1 " says I. "He is a bachelor, with a fine trade, and nobody to leave his money to." " His present can't be less than a thousand pounds 1 " says I. " Or, perhaps, a silver tea-set, and some comer-dishes," says she. But we could not agree to this : it was too little — too mean for a man of her uncle's wealth ; and we both determined it must be the thousand pounds. " Dear good uncle ! he's to be here by the coach," says Magdalen. " Let us ask a little party to meet him." And so we did, and so EESTOKATION DAY 559 they came : my father and mother, old Crutty in his best wig, and the parson who was to marry us the next day. The coach was to come in at six. And there was the tea-table, and there was the punch-bowl, and everybody ready and smiling to receive our dear uncle from London. Six o'clock came, and the coach, and the man from the " Green Dragon" with a portmanteau, and a fat old gentleman walking behind, of whom I just caught a glimpse — a venerable old gentle- man : I thought I'd seen him before. Then there was a ring at the bell ; then a scuflBing and bumping in the passage ; then old Crutty rushed out, and a great laughing and talking, and "How are you?" and so on, was heard at the door ; and then the parlour-door was flung open, and Crutty cried out with a loud voice — " Good people all ! my brother-in-law, Mr. Stiffelkind ! " Mr. StiffelMmd 1 — I trembled as I heard the name ! Miss Crutty kissed him; mamma made him a curtsey, and papa made him a bow ; and Doctor Snorter, the parson, seized his hand, and shook it most warmly : then came my turn ! " Vat ! " says he. "It is my dear goot yong frend from Doctor Schvischentail's ! is dis de yong gentleman's honorable moder " (mamma smiled and made a curtsey), " and dis his fader ? Sare and madam, you should be broud of soch a sonn. And you my niece, if you have him for a husband you vill be locky, dat is all. Vat dink you, broder Croty, and Madame Stobbs, I 'ave made your sonn's boots ! Ha — ha ! " My mamma laughed, and said, " I did not know it, but I am sure, sir, he has as pretty a leg for a boot as any in the whole county." Old Stiffelkind roared louder. "A very nice leg, ma'am, and a very sheap boot too. Vat ! did you not know I make his boots % Perhaps you did not know something else too — p'raps you did not know " (and here the monster clapped his hand on the table and made the punch-ladle tremble in the bowl) — " p'raps you did not know as dat yong man, dat Stobbs, that sneaking, baltry, squinting fellow, is as vicked as he is ogly. He bot a pair of boots from me and never paid for dem. Dat is noting, nobody never pays ; but he bought a pair of boots, and called himself Lord CornvaUis. And I was fool enough to believe him vonce. But look you, niece Magdalen, I 'ave got five tousand pounds: if you marry him I viU not give you a benny. But look you what I will gif you : I bromised you a bresent, and I wiU give you desk ! " 560 THE FATAL BOOTS And the old monster produced those very boots which Swish- tail had made him take back. I di(Mt marry Miss Crutty : I am not sorry for it though. She was a nasty, ugly, ill-tempered wretch, and I've always said so ever since. And all this arose from those infernal boots, and that unlucky paragraph in the county paper — I'U teU you how. In the first place, it was taken up as a quiz by one of the wicked, profligate, unprincipled organs of the London press, who chose to be very facetious about the " Marriage in High Life," and made all sorts of jokes about me and my dear Miss Crutty. Secondly, it was read in this London paper by my mortal enemy, Bunting, who had been introduced to old Stiffelkind's acquaintance by my adventure with him, and had his shoes made regularly by that foreign upstart. Thirdly, he happened to want a pair of shoes made at this particular period, and as he was measured by the disgusting old High-Dutch cobbler, he told him his old friend Stubbs was going to be married. " And to whom ? " said old Stififelkind. " To a voman wit geld, I vill take my oath." " Yes," says Bunting, " a country girl — a Miss Magdalen Carotty or Grotty, at a place called Sloffemsquiggle." " Schloffemschviiegel ! " biirsts out the dreadful bootmaker. " Mein Gott, mein G-ott ! das geht nicht ! I tell you, sare, it is no go. Miss Grotty is my niece. I vill go down myself. I vUl never let her marry dat goot-for-nothing schwindler and tief." Such was the language that the scoundrel ventured to use regarding me ! JUNE— MARROWBONES AND CLEAVERS WAS there ever such confounded ill-luck? My whole life has been a tissue of ill-luck : although I have laboured perhaps harder than any man to make a fortune, some- thing always tumbled it down. In love and in war I was not like others. In my marriages, I had an eye to the main chance ; and you see how some unlucky blow would come and throw them over. In the army I was just as prudent, and just as unfortunate. What with judicious betting, and horse-swapping, good luck at billiards, and economy, I do believe I put up my pay every year, — and that is what few can say who have but an allowance of a hundred a year. I'U tell you how it was. I used to be very kind to the young men : I chose their horses for them, and their wine ; and showed them how to play billiards, or ^cart^, of long mornings, when there was nothing better to do. I didn't cheat : I'd rather die than cheat ; — but if fellows will play, I wasn't the man to say no — why should I ? There was one young chap in our regiment off whom I really think I cleared three hundred a year. His name was Dobble. He was a tailor's son, and wanted to be a gentleman. A poor weak young creature ; easy to be made tipsy ; easy to be cheated ; and easy to be frightened. It was a blessing for him that I found him ; for if anybody else had, they would have plucked him of every shilling. Ensign Dobble and I were sworn friend's. I rode his horses for him, and chose his champagne, and did everything, in fact, that a superior mind does for an inferior, — when the inferior has got the money. We were inseparables, — hunting everywhere in couples. We even managed to fall in love with two sisters, as young soldiers will do, you know ; for the dogs fall in love with every change of quarters. Well, once, in the year 1793 (it was just when the French had chopped poor Louis's head ofi), Dobble and I, gay young chaps as ever wore sword by side, had cast our eyes upon two young ladies by the name of Brisket, daughters of a butcher in the town where we were quartered. The dear girls fell in love with us, of course. S62 THE FATAL BOOTS And many a pleasant walk in the country, many a treat to a tea- garden, many a smart riband and brooch used Dobble and I (for his father allowed him six hundred pounds, and our purses were in common) to present to these young ladies. One day, fancy our pleasure at receiving a note couched thus : — " Deer Capting Sttjbbs ai^td Dobble, — Miss Briskets presents their compliments, and as it is probble that our papa will be till twelve at the corprayshun dinner, we request the pleasure of their company to tea." Didn't we go ! Punctually at six we were in the little back- parlour ; we quaffed more Bohea, and made more love than half-a- dozen ordinary men could. At nine, a little punch-bowl succeeded to the little teapot; and, bless the girls! a nice fresh steak was frizzling on the gridiron for our supper. Butchers were butchers then, and their parlour was their kitchen too ; at least old Brisket's was — one door leading into the shop, and one into the yard, on the other side of which was the slaughter-house. Fancy, then, our horror when, just at this critical time, we heard the shop-door open, a heavy staggering step on the flags, and a loud husky voice from the shop, shouting, " Hallo, Susan ; hallo, Betsy ! show a light ! " Dobble turned as white as a sheet ; the two girls each as red as a lobster ; I alone preserved my presence of mind. "The back-door," says I. — "The dog's in the court," say they. " He's not so bad as the man," said I. " Stop ! " cries Susan, flinging open the door and rushing to the fire. " Take this, and perhaps it wiU quiet him." What do you think " this " was 1 I'm blest if it was not the steah I She pushed us out, patted and hushed the dog, and was in again in a minute. The moon was shining on the court, and on the slaughter-house, where there hung the white ghastly looking carcasses of a couple of sheep ; a great gutter ran down the court — a gutter of blooct! The dog was devouring his beef-steak {our beef-steak) in silence ; and we could see through the little window the girls bustliug about to pack up the supper-things, and presently the shop-door being opened, old Brisket entering, staggering, angry, and drunk. What's more, we could see, perched on a high stool, and nodding politely, as if to salute old Brisket, the feather of Dobble' s coded hat ! When Dobble saw it, he turned white, and deadly sick ; and the poor fellow, in an agony of fright, sank shivering down upon one of the butcher's cutting-blocks, which was in the yard. We saw old Brisket look steadily (as steadily as he could) at MAEROWBONES AND CLEAVERS 563 the confounded, impudent, pert, waggling feather ; and then an idea began to dawn upon his mind, that there was a head to the hat ; and then he slowly rose up — ^he was a man of six feet, and fifteen stone — he rose up, put on his apron and sleeves, and took down his cleaver. Betsy," says he, "open the yard door." But the poor girls screamed, and flung on their knees, and begged, and wept, and did their very best to prevent him. " Open the Yard Doge ! " says he, with a thundering loud voice ; and the great bulldog, hearing it, started up and uttered a yell which sent me flying to the other end of the court. — Dobble couldn't move ; he was sitting on the block, blubbering like a baby. The door opened, and out Mr. Brisket came. " To him, Jowler 1 " says he. " Keep him, Jowler! " — and the horrid dog flew at me, and I flew back into the corner, and drew my sword, determining to sell my life dearly. " That's it," says Brisket. " Keep him there, — good dog, — good dog ! And now, sir," says he, tiuning round to Dobble, " is this your hat "i " " Yes," says Dobble, fit to choke with fright. " Well, then," says Brisket, " it's my — (hie) — my painful duty to — (hic)^to tell you, that as I've got your hat, I must 'have your head; — it's painful, but it must be done. You'd better — (hie) — settle yourself com— comfumarably against that — (hie) — that block, and I'll chop it off before you can say Jack — (hie) — no, I mean Jack Robinson." Dobble went down on his knees and shrieked out, " I'm an only son, Mr. Brisket ! I'U marry her, sir ; I will, upon my honour, sir. — Consider my mother, sir ; consider my mother." " That's it, sir," says Brisket — " that's a good — (hie) — a good boy ; — ^just put your head down quietly — and I'll have it off — yes, off — as if you were Louis the Six — the Sixtix — the Siktickleteenth. — Ill chop the other chap afterwards." When I heard this, I made a sudden bound back, and gave such a cry as any man might who was in such a way. The ferocious Jowler, thinking I was going to escape, flew at my throat; screaming furious; I flung out my arms in a kind of desperation, — and, to my wonder, down fell the dog, dead, and run through the body ! At this moment a posse of people rushed in upon old Brisket, — one of his daughters had had the sense to siunmon them, — and Dobble's head was saved. And when they saw the dog lying dead at my feet, my ghastly look, my bloody sword, they gave me no 564 THE FATAL BOOTS small credit for my bravery. "A terrible fellow that Stubbs," said they ; and so the mess said, the next day. I didn't tell them that the dog had committed suicide — why should I % And I didn't say a word about Bobbie's cowardice. I said he was a brave fellow, and fought like a tiger ; and this pre- vented him from telling tales. I had the dogskin made into a pair of pistol-holsters, and looked so fierce, and got such a name for courage in our regiment, that when we had to meet the regulars. Bob Stubbs was always the man put forward to support the honour of the corps. The women, you know, adore courage ; and such was my reputation at this time, that I might have had my pick out of half-a-dozen, with three, four, or five thousand pounds apiece, who were dying for love of me and my red coat. But I wasn't such a fool. I had been twice on the point of marriage, and twice dis- appointed ; and I vowed by all the Saints to have a wife, and a rich one. Depend upon this, as an infallible maxim to guide you through life : It's as easy to get a rich wife as a poor one ; — the same bait that will hook a trout will hook a salmon. JULY— SUMMARY PROCEEDINGS DOBBLE'S reputation for courage was not increased by the butcher's-dog adventure ; but mine stood very high : little Stubbs was voted the boldest chap of all the bold North Bungays. And though I must confess, what was proved by subse- quent circumstances, that nature has not endowed me with a large, or even, I may say, an average share of bravery, yet a man is very willing to flatter himself to the contrary ; and, after a little time, I got to believe that my killing the dog was an action of undaunted courage, and that I was as gallant as any of the one hundred thousand heroes of our army. I always had a military taste — it's only the brutal part of the profession, the horrid fighting and blood, that I don't like. I suppose the regiment was not very brave itself — ^being only militia; but certain it was, that Stubbs was considered a most terrible fellow, and I swore so much, and looked so fierce, that you would have fancied I had made half a hundred campaigns. I was second in several duels : the umpire in all disputes ; and such a crack shot myself, that fellows were shy of insulting me. As for Dobble, I took him under my protection ; and he became so attached to me, that we ate, drank, and rode together every day ; his father didn't care for money, so long as his son was in good company — and what so good as that of the celebrated Stubbs ? Heigho ! I was good company in those days, and a brave fellow too, as I should have remained, but for — ^what I shall tell the public immediately. It happened, in the fatal year ninety-six, that the brave North Bungays were quartered at Portsmouth, a maritime place, which I need not describe, and which I wish I had never seen. I might have been a General now, or, at least, a rich man. The red-coats carried everything before them in those days ; and I, such a crack character as I was in my regiment, was very well received by the townspeople : many dinners I had ; many tea-parties ; many lovely young ladies did I lead down the pleasant country- dances. Well, although I had had the two former rebuffs in love which I have described, my heart was still young ; and the fact was, know- 566 THE FATAL BOOTS ing that a girl with a fortune was my only chance, I made love here as fiiriously as ever. I shan't describe the lovely creatures on whom I fixed, whilst at Portsmouth. I tried more than — several — and it is a singular fact, which I never have been able to account for, that, successful as I was with ladies of maturer age, by the young ones I was refused regular. But " faint heart never won fair lady ; " and so I went on, and on, until I had got a Miss Olopper, a tolerably rich navy-contractor's daughter, into such a way, that I really don't think she could have refused me. Her brother. Captain Olopper, was in a line regiment, and helped me as much as ever he could ; he swore I was such a brave fellow. As I had received a number of attentions from Olopper, I determined to invite him to dinner ; which I could do without any sacrifice of my principle upon this point : for the fact is, Dobble lived at an inn, and as he sent all his bills to his father, I made no scruple to use his table. We dined in the cofiee-room, Dobble bring- ing his friend ; and so we made a party carry, as the French say. Some naval officers were occupied in a similar way at a table next to ours. Well — I didn't spare the bottle, either for myself or for my friends ; and we grew very talkative, and very affectionate as the drinking went on. Each man told stories of his gallantry in the field, or amongst the ladies, as officers will, after dinner. Olopper confided to the company his wish that I should marry his sister, and vowed that he thought me the best fellow in Ohristendom. Ensign Dobble assented to this. " But let Miss Olopper beware," says he, " for Stubbs is a sad fellow : he has had I don't know how many liaisons already ; and he has been engaged to I don't know how many women." " Indeed ! " says Olopper. " Oome, Stubbs, tell us your ad- ventures." " Psha ! " said I modestly, " there is nothing indeed to tell. I have been in love, my dear boy — who has not t. — and I have been jilted — who has not ? " Olopper swore that he would blow his sister's brains out if ever she served me so. " Tell him about Miss Orutty," said Dobble. " He ! he ! Stubbs served that woman out, anyhow ; she didn't jilt him, I'll be sworn." " EeaUy, Dobble, you are too bad, and should not mention names. The fact is, the girl was desperately in love with me, and had money — sixty thousand pounds, upon my reputation. Well, everything was arranged, when who should come down from London but a relation." " Well, and did he prevent the match ? " s. > SUMMAKY PROCEEDINGS 567 " Prevent it — yes, sir, I believe you he did ; though not in the sense that you mean. He would have given his eyes — ay, and ten thousand pounds more — if I would have accepted the girl, hut I would not." " Why, in the name of goodness ? " " Sir, her uncle was a shoemaker. I never would debase myself by marrying into such a family." " Of course not," said Dobble ; " he couldn't, you know. Well, now — tell him about the other girl, Mary Waters, you know." " Hush, Dobble, hush ! don't you see one of those naval officers has turned round and heard you 1 My dear Clopper, it was a mere childish bagatelle." " Well, but let's have it," said Clopper — " let's have it. I won't teU my sister, you know." And he put his hand to his nose and looked monstrous wise. " Nothing of that sort, Clopper — no, no — 'pon honour — little Bob Stubbs is no libertine ; and the story is very simple. You see that my father has a small place, merely a few hundred acres, at SloflFemsquiggle. Isn't it a funny name 1 Hang it, there's the naval gentleman staring again" — (I looked terribly fierce as I returned this officer's stare, and continued in a loud careless voice). " Well, at this Sloffemsquiggle there lived a girl, a Miss Waters, the niece of some blackguard apothecary in the neighbourhood ; but my mother took a fancy to the girl, and had her up to the park and petted her. We were both young — and — and — the girl fell in love with me, that's the fact. I was obliged to repel some rather warm advances that she made me ; and here, upon my honour as a gentleman, you have aU the story about which that sUly Dobble makes such a noise." Just as I finished this sentence, I found myself suddenly taken by the nose, and a voice shouting out, — " Mr. Stubbs, you are a Liae and a Scoundrel ! Take this, sir, — and this, for daring to meddle with the name of an innocent lady." I turned round as well as I could — for the ruffian had pulled me out of my chair — and beheld a great marine monster, six feet high, who was occupied in beating and kicking me, in the most ungentle- manly manner, on my cheeks, my ribs, and between the tails of my coat. " He is a liar, gentlemen, and a scoundrel ! The bootmaker had detected him in swindling, and so his niece refused him. Miss Waters was engaged to him from childhood, and he deserted her for the bootmaker's niece, who was richer." — And then sticking a card between my stock and my coat-collar, in what is called the scruff of my neck, the disgusting brute gave me another blow behind my back, and left the coffee-room with his Mends S68 THE FATAL BOOTS Dobble raised me up ; and taking the card from my neck, read, Captain Watees. Clopper poured me out a glass of water, and said in my ear, " If this is true, you are an infernal scoundrel, Stubbs ; and must fight me, after Captain Waters ; " and he flounced out of the room. I had but one course to pursue. I sent the Captain a short and contemptuous note, saying that he was beneath my anger. As for Clopper, I did not condescend to notice his remark ; but in order to get rid of the troublesome society of these low blackguards, I determined to gratify an inclination I had long entertained, and make a little tour. I applied for leave of absence, and set off that very night. I can fancy the disappointment of the brutal Waters, on coming, as he did, the next morning to my quarters and finding me gone. Ha ! ha ! After this adventure I became sick of a military life — at least the life of my own regiment, where the oflBcers, such was their unaccountable meanness and prejudice against me, absolutely refused to see me at mess. Colonel Craw sent me a letter to this effect, which I treated as it deserved. — I never once alluded to it in any way, and have since never spoken a single word to any man in the North Bungays. AUGUST— DOGS HAVE THEIR DAYS SEE, now, what life is ! I have had ill-luck on ill-luck from that day to this. I have sunk in the world, and, instead of riding my horse and drinking my wine, as a real gentleman should, have hardly enough now to buy a pint of ale ; ay, and am very glad when anybody will treat me to one. Why, why was I bom to imdergo such unmerited misfortunes ? You must know that very soon after my adventure with Miss Cratty, and that cowardly ruffian. Captain Waters (he sailed the day after his insult to me, or I should most certainly have blown his brains out ; now he is hving in England, and is my relation ; but, of course, I cut the fellow) — very soon after these painful events another happened, which ended, too, in a sad disappointment. My dear papa died, and, instead of leaving five thousand pounds, as I expected at the very least, left only his estate, which was worth but two. The land and house were left to me ; to mamma and my sisters he left, to be sure, a sum of two thousand pounds in the hands of that eminent firm Messrs. Pump, Aldgate & Co., which failed within six months after his demise, and paid in five years about one shilling and ninepence in the pound ; which really was all my dear mother and sisters had to live upon. The poor creatures were quite unused to money matters ; and, would you believe it 1 when the news came of Pump and Aldgate's failure, mamma only smUed, and threw her eyes up to heaven, and said, " Blessed be God, that we have still wherewithal to live. There are tens of thousands in this world, dear children, who would count our poverty riches." And with this she kissed my two sisters, who began to blubber, as girls always will do, and threw their arms round her neck, and then round my neck, until I was half stifled with their embraces, and slobbered all over with their tears. " Dearest mamma," said I, " I am very glad to see the noble manner in which you bear your loss ; and more stUl to know that you are so rich as to be able to put up with it." The fact was, I really thought the old lady had got a private hoard of her own, as many of them have — a thousand pounds or so in a stocking. Had she put by thirty pounds a year, as well she might, for the thirty 570 THE FATAL BOOTS years of her marriage, there would have been nine hundred pounds clear, and no mistake. But still I was angry to think that any such paltry concealment had been practised — concealment too of my money ; so I turned on her pretty sharply, and continued my speech. " You say, ma'am, that you are rich, and that Pump and Aldgate's failure has no effect upon you. I am very happy to hear you say so, ma'am — very happy that you are rich ; and I should like to know where your property, my father's property, for you had none of your own, — I should like to know where this money lies — where you have concealed it, ma'am; and permit me to say, that when I agreed to board you and my two sisters for eighty pounds a year, I did not know that you had other resources than those mentioned in my blessed father's will." This I said to her because I hated the meanness of concealment, not because I lost by the bargain of boarding them : for the three poor things did not eat much more than sparrows ; and I've often since calculated that I had a clear twenty pounds a year profit out of them. Mamma and the girls looked quite astonished when I made the speech. " What does he mean 1 " said Lucy to Eliza. Mamma repeated the question. " My beloved Kobert, what concealment axe you talking of ^ " " I am talking of concealed property, ma'am," says I sternly. " And do you — what — can you — do you really suppose that I have concealed — any of that blessed sa-a-a-aint's prop-op-op-opertyl" screams out mamma. " Kobert," says she — " Bob, my own darling boy — my fondest, best beloved, now he is gone " (meaning my late governor — more tears) — "you don't, you cannot fancy that your own mother, who bore you, and nursed you, and wept for you, and would give her all to save you from a moment's harm — you don't suppose that she would che-e-e-eat you ! " And here she gave a louder screech than ever, and flung back on the sofa ; and one of my sisters went and tumbled into her arms, and t'other went round, and the kissing and slobbering scene went on again, only I was left out, thank goodness. I hate such sentimentality. " Che-e-e-eat me," says I, mocking her. " What do you mean, then, by saying you're so rich ? Say, have you got money, or have you not f " (And I rapped out a good number of oaths, too, which I don't put in here; but I was in a dreadful fury, that's the fact.) " So help me Heaven," says mamma, in answer, going down on her knees and smacking her two hands, " I have but a Queen Anne's guinea in the whole of this wicked world." " Then what, madam, induces you to tell these absurd stories to DOGS HAVE THEIR DAYS syr me, and to talk about your riches, when you know that you and your daughters are beggars, ma'am — beggars ? " " My dearest boy, have we not got the house, and the furniture, and a hundred a year still ; and have you not great talents, which will make all our fortunes ? " says Mrs. Stubbs, getting up off her knees, and making believe to smile as she clawed hold of my hand and kissed it. This was too cool. " You have got a hundred a year, ma'am ? " says I — " you have got a house 1 Upon my soul and honour this is the &st I ever heard of it ; and I'll tell you what, ma'am," says I (and it cut her pretty sharply too) : " As you've got it, you'd better go and live in it. I've got quite enough to do with my own house, and every penny of my own income." Upon this speech the old lady said nothing, but she gave a screech loud enough to be heard from here to York, and down she fell — kicking and struggling in a regular fit. I did not see Mrs. Stubbs for some days after this, and the girls used to come down to meals, and never speak ; going up again and stopping with their mother. At last, one day, both of them came in very solemn to my study, and Eliza, the eldest, said, " Robert, mamma has paid you our board up to Michaelmas." " She has," says I ; for I always took precious good care to have it in advance. " She says, Robert, that on Michaelmas Day — we'll — ^we'U go away, Robert." " Oh, she's going to her own house, is she, Lizzy ? Very good. She'll want the furniture, I suppose, and that she may have too, for I'm going to sell the place myself." And so that matter was settled. On Michaelmas Day — and during these two months I hadn't, I do believe, seen my mother twice (once, about two o'clock in the morning, I woke and found her sobbing over my bed) — on Michael- mas-Day morning, Eliza comes to me and says, " Robert, they will come and fetch us at six this evening." Well, as this was the last day, I went and got the best goose I could find (I don't think I ever saw a primer, or ate more hearty myself), and had it roasted at three, with a good pudding afterwards ; and a glorious bowl of punch. " Here's a health to you, dear girls," says I, " and you. Ma, and good luck to all three ; and as you've not eaten a morsel, I hope you won't object to a glass of punch. It's the old stuff, you know, ma'am, that that Watery sent to my father fifteen years ago," 572 THE FATAL BOOTS Six o'clock came, and with it came a fine barouche. As I live, Captain Waters was on the box (it was his coach) ; that old thief. Bates, jumped out, entered my house, and before I could say Jack Eobinson, whipped off mamma to the carriage : the girls followed, just giving me a hasty shake of the hand; and as mamma was helped in, Mary Waters, who was sitting inside, flung her arms round her, and then round the girls; and the Doctor, who acted footman, jumped on the box, and off they went ; taking no more notice of me than if I'd been a nonentity. Here's a picture of the whole business : — Mamma and Miss Waters are sitting kissing each other in the carriage, with the two girls in the back seat ; Waters is driving (a precious bad driver he is too) ; and I'm standing at the garden door, and whistling. That old fool Mary Malowney is crying behind the garden gate : she went off next day along with the furniture ; and I to get into that precious scrape which I shall mention next. SEPTEMBER— PLUCKING A GOOSE AFTEE my papa's death, as he left me no money, and only a little land, I put my estate into an auctioneer's hands, and determined to amuse my solitude with a trip to some of our fashionable watering-places. My house was now a desert to me. I need not say how the departure of my dear parent, and her children, left me sad and lonely. Well, I had a little ready money, and, for the estate, expected a couple of thousand pounds. I had a good military-looking person : for though I had absolutely cut the old North Bungays (indeed, after my affair with Waters, Colonel Craw hinted to me, in the most fnendly manner, that I had better resign) — though I had left the army, I still retained the rank of Captain ; knowing the advan- tages attendant upon that title in a watering-place toiu'. Captain Stubbs became a great dandy at Cheltenham, Harro- gate, Bath, Leamington, and other places. I was a good whist and biUiard player; so much so, that in many of these towns, the people used to refuse, at last, to play with me, knowing how far I was their superior. Fancy my surprise, about five years after the Portsmouth aflFarr, when strolling one day up the High Street, in Leamington, my eyes lighted upon a young man, whom I re- membered in a certain butcher's yard, and elsewhere — no other, in fact, than Debbie. He, too, was dressed en militaire, with a frogged coat and spurs; and was walking with a showy-looking, Jewish-faced, black-haired lady, glittering with chains and rings, with a green bonnet and a bird-of-Paradise — a lilac shawl, a yeUow gown, pink silk stockings, and light-blue shoes. Three children, and a handsome footman, were walking behind her, and the party, not seeing me, entered the " Royal Hotel " together. I was known myself at the " Royal," and calling one of the waiters, learned the names of the lady and gentleman. He was Captain Dobble, the son of the rich army-clothier, Dobble (Dobble, Hobble & Co., of Pall Mall) ;— the lady was a Mrs. Manasseh, widow of an American Jew, living quietly at Leamington with her children, but possessed of an immense property. There's no use to give one's self out to be an absolute pauper : so the fact is, that 574 THE FATAL BOOTS I myself went everywhere with the character of a man of very large means. My father had died, leaving me immense sums of money, and landed estates. Ah ! I was the gentleman then, the real gentleman, and everybody was too happy to have me at table. Well, I came the next day and left a card for Dobble, with a note. He neither returned my visit, nor answered my note. The day after, however, I met him with the widow, as before; and going up to him, very kindly seized him by the hand, and swore I was — as really was the case — charmed to see him. Dobble hung back, to my surprise, and I do believe the creature would have cut me, if he dared ; but I gave him a frown, and said — "What, Dobble my boy, don't you recollect old Stubbs, and our adventure with the butcher's daughters — ha?" Dobble gave a sickly kind of grin, and said, " Oh ! ah ! yes ! It is — yes ! it is, I believe, Captain Stubbs." "An old comrade, madam, of Captain Dobble's, and one who has heard so much, and seen so much of your Ladyship, that he must take the liberty of begging his friend to introduce him." Dobble was obliged to take the hint ; and Captain Stubbs was duly presented to Mrs. Manasseh. The lady was as gracious as possible; and when, at the end of the walk, we parted, she said she " hoped Captain Dobble would bring me to her apartments that evening, where she expected a few friends." Everybody, you see, knows everybody at Leamington ; and I, for my part, was well known as a retired officer of the army, who, on his father's death, had come into seven thousand a year. Dobble's arrival had been subsequent to mine ; but putting up as he did at the " Koyal Hotel," and dining at the ordinary there with the widow, he had made her acquaintance before I had. I saw, however, that if I allowed him to talk about me, as he could, I should be compelled to give up all my hopes and pleasures at Leamington; and so I determined to be short with him. As soon as the lady had gone into the hotel, my friend Dobble was for leaving me likewise ; but I stopped him, and said, " Mr. Dobble, I saw what you meant just now : you wanted to cut me, because, forsooth, I did not choose to fight a duel at Portsmouth. Now look you, Dobble, I am no hero, but I am not such a coward as you — and you know it. You are a very different man to deal with from Waters ; and / will fight this time." Not perhaps that I would : but after the business of the butcher, I knew Dobble to be as great a coward as ever lived ; and there never was any harm in threatening, for you know you are not obliged to stick to it afterwards. My words had their effect upon Dobble, who stuttered and looked red, and then declared he never PLUCKING A GOOSE 57S had the slightest intention of passing me by ; so we became friends, and his mouth was stopped. He was very thick with the widow, but that lady had a very capacious heart, and there were a number of other gentlemen who seemed equally smitten with her. " Look at that Mrs. Manasseh," said a gentleman (it was droll, he was a Jew, too) sitting at dinner by me. " She is old, ugly, and yet, because she has money, all the men are flinging themselves at her." " She has money, has she % " " Eighty thousand pounds, and twenty thousand for each of her children. I know it for a fact," said the strange gentleman. " I am in the law, and we of our faith, you know, know pretty well what the great families amongst us are worth." " Who was Mr. Manasseh 1 " said I. " A man of enormous wealth — a tobacco-merchant— West Indies; a fellow of no birth, however ; and who, between ourselves, married a woman that is not much better than she should be. My dear sir," whispered he, " she is always in love. Now it is with that Captain Dobble ; last week it was somebody else — and it may be you next week, if — ha ! ha ! ha ! — you are disposed to enter the lists. I wouldn't, for my part, have the woman with twice her money." What did it matter to me whether the woman was good or not, provided she was rich 1 My course was quite clear. I told Dobble all that this gentleman had informed me, and being a pretty good hand at making a story, I made the widow appear so bad, that the poor fellow was quite frightened, and fairly quitted the field. Ha ! ha ! I'm dashed if I did not make him believe that Mrs. Manasseh had mwrdered her last husband. I played my game so well, thanks to the information that my friend the lawyer had given me, that in a month I had got the widow to show a most decided partiality for me. I sat by her at dinner, I drank with her at the " Wells " — I rode with her, I danced with her, and at a picnic to KenUworth, where we drank a good deal of champagne, I actually popped the question, and was accepted. In another month, Eobert Stubbs, Esquire, led to the altar, Leah, widow of the late Z. Manasseh, Esquire, of St. Kitt's ! We drove up to London in her comfortable chariot : the children and servants following in a postchaise. I paid, of course, for every- thing; and until our house in Berkeley Square was painted, we stopped at " Stevens's Hotel." My own estate had been sold, and the money was lying at a bank in the City. About three days after our arrival, as we took 576 THE FATAL BOOTS our breakfast in the hotel, previous to a visit to Mrs. Stubbs's banker, where certain little transfers were to be made, a gentleman was introduced, who, I saw at a glance, was of my wife's persuasion. He looked at Mrs. Stubbs, and made a bow. " Perhaps it will be convenient to you to pay this little biU, one hundred and fifty- two pounds ? " " My love," says she, " will you pay this 1 — it is a trifle which I had really forgotten." " My soul ! " said I, "I have really not the money in the house." " Veil, denn, Captain Shtubbsh," says he, " I must do my duty — and arrest you — here is the writ ! Tom, keep the door ! " — My wife fainted — the children screamed, and fancy my condition as I was obliged to march off to a spunging-house along with a horrid sheriffs oflBcer ! OCTOBER— MARS AND VENUS IN OPPOSITION 1 SHALL not describe my feelings when I found myself in a cage in Cursitor Street, instead of that fine house in Berkeley Square, which was to have been mine as the husband of Mrs. Manasseh. What a place ! — in an odious dismal street leading from Chancery Lane. A hideous Jew boy opened the second of three doors, and shut it when Mr. Nabb and I (almost fainting) had entered ; then he opened the third door, and then I was introduced to a filthy place called a coffee-room, which I exchanged for the solitary comfort of a little dingy back-parlour, where I was left for a while to brood over my miserable fate. Fancy the change between this and Berkeley Square ! Was I, after aU. my pains, and cleverness, and perseverance, cheated at last ? Had this Mrs. Manasseh been im- posing upon me, and were the words of the wretch I met at the table-d'h6te at Leamington only meant to mislead me and take me in ? I determined to send for my wife, and know the whole truth. I saw at once that I had been the victim of an infernal plot, and that the carriage, the house in town, the West India fortune, were only so many lies which I had blindly believed. It was true the debt was but a hundred and fifty pounds ; and I had two thousand at my bankers'. But was the loss of her eighty thousand pounds nothing 1 Was the destruction of my hopes nothing 1 The accursed addition to my family of a Jewish wife and three Jewish children, nothing? And all these I was to support out of my two thousand pounds. I had better have stopped at home with my mamma and sisters, whom I really did love, and who produced me eighty pounds a year. I had a furious interview with Mrs. Stubbs ; and when I charged her, the base wretch ! with cheating me, like a brazen serpent as she was, she flung back the cheat in my teeth, and swore I had swindled her. Why did I marry her, when she might have had twenty others ? She only took me, she said, because I had twenty thoxisand pounds. I had said I possessed that sum : but in love, you know, and war all's fair. We parted quite as angrily as we met ; and I cordially vowed that when I had paid the debt into which I had been swindled by 3 2 o 578 THE FATAL BOOTS her, I would take my two thousand pounds and depart to some desert island ; or, at the very least, to America, and never see her more, or any of her Israelitish brood. There was no use in remain- ing in the spunging-house (for I knew that there were such things as detainers, and that where Mrs. Stubbs owed a hundred pounds, she might owe a thousand) : so I sent for Mr. Nabb, and tendering him a cheque for one hundred and fifty, pounds and his costs, requested to be let out forthwith. " Here, fellow," said I, " is a cheque on Child's for your paltry sum." " It may be a shock on Shild's," says Mr. Nabb ; " but I should be a baby to let you out on such a paper as dat." •' Well," said I, " Child's is but a step from this : you may go and get the cash, — just give me an acknowledgment." Nabb drew out the acknowledgment with great punctuality, and set off for the bankers', whilst' I prepared myself for departure from this abominable prison. He smiled as he came in. " Well," said I, " you have touched your money; and now, I must tell you, that you are the most infernal rogue and extortioner I ever met with." " Oh no, Mishter Shtubbsh," says he, grinning still. " Dere is som greater roag dan me, — mosh greater." " Fellow," said I, " don't stand grinning before a gentleman ; but g^ve me my hat and cloak, and let me leave your filthy den." " Shtop, Shtubbsh," says he, not even Mistering me this time. " Here ish a letter, vich you had better read." I opened the letter; something fell to the ground, — it was my cheque. The letter ran thus : — "Messrs. Child & Co. present their compliments to Captain Stubbs, and regret that they have been obliged to refuse payment of the enclosed, having been served this day with an attachment by Messrs. Solomonson & Co., which compels them to retain Captain Stubbs's balance of £2,010, lis. 6d. until the decision of the suit of Solomonson v. Stubbs. "Fleet Street." "You see," says Mr. Nabb,, as I read this dreadfiil letter — "you see, Shtubbsh, dere vas two debts, — a little von and a big von. So dey arrested you for de little von, and attashed your money for de big von." Don't laugh at me for telling this story. If you knew what tears are blotting over the paper as I write it — if you knew that for weeks after I was more like a madman than a sane maUj — a mad- '....''■'fM/Mm MAES AND VENUS IN OPPOSITION 579 man in the Fleet Prison, where I went instead of to the desert island ! What had I done to deserve it 1 Hadn't I always kept an eye to the main chance ? Hadn't I lived economically, and not like other young men? Had I ever been known to squander or give away a single penny ? No ! I can lay my hand on my heart, and, thank Heaven, say. No ! Why, why was I punished so ? Let me conclude this miserable history. Seven months — my wife saw me once or twice, and then dropped me altogether — I remained in that fatal place. I wrote to my dear mamma, begging her to sell her furniture, but got no answer. All my old friends turned their backs upon me. My action went against me — I had not a penny to defend it. Solomonson proved my wife's debt, and seized my two thousand pounds. As for the detainer against me, I was obliged to go through the court for the relief of insolvent debtors. I passed through it, and came out a beggar. But fancy the malice of that wicked Stiffelkind : he appeared in court as my creditor for three poimds, with sixteen years' interest at five per cent., for a paie of top-boots. The old thief produced them in court, and told the whole story — Lord Comwallis, the detection, the pumping and all. Commissioner Dubobwig was very funny about it. " So Doctor Swishtail would not pay you for the boots, eh, Mr. Stiffelkind ? " " No : he said, ven I asked him for payment, dey was ordered by a yong boy, and I ought to have gone to his schoolmaster." " What ! then you came on a bootless errand, hey, sir ? " (A laugh.) " Bootless ! no sare, I brought de boots back vid me. How de devU else could I show dem to you ? " (Another laugh.) " You've never soled 'em since, Mr. Tickleshins 1 " " I never would sell dem ; I svore I never vood, on porpus to be revenged on dat Stobbs." " What ! your wound has never been healed, eh ? " " Vat de you mean vid your bootless errands, and your soling and healing 1 I tell you I have done vat I svore to do : I have exposed him at school ; I have broak off a marriage for him, ven he vould have had tventy tousand pound ; and now I have showed him up in a court of justice. Dat is vat I 'ave done, and dat's enough." And then the old wretch went down, whilst everybody was giggling and staring at poor me — as if I was not miserable enough already. " This seems the dearest pair of boots you ever had in your life, Mr. Stubbs," said Commissioner Dubobwig very archly, and then he began to inquire about the rest of my misfortunes. In the fulness of my heart I told him the whole of them : how Mr. Solomonson the attorney had introduced me to the rich widow, 58o THE FATAL BOOTS Mrs. Manasseh, who had fifty thousand pounds, and an estate in the West Indies. How I was married, and arrested on coming to town, and cast in an action for two thousand pounds brought against me by this very Solomonson for my wife's debts. " Stop ! " says a lawyer in the court. " Is this woman a showy black-haired woman with one eye? very often drunk, with three children ? — Solomonson, short, with red hair 1 " " Exactly so," said I, with tears in my eyes. " That woman has married three men within the last two years. One in Ireland, and one at Bath. A Solomonson is, I believe, her husband, and they both are off for America ten days ago." " But why did you not keep your two thousand pounds % " said the lawyer. " Sir, they attached it." " Oh, well, we may pass you. You have been unlucky, Mr. Stubbs, but it seems as if the biter had been bit in this affair." " No," said Mr. Dubobwig. " Mr. Stubbs is the victim of a FATAL' ATTACHMENT." NOVEMBER—A GENERAL POST DELIVERY 1WAS a free man when I went out of the court ; but I was a beggar — I, Captain Stubbs, of the bold North Bungays, did not know where I could get a bed, or a dinner. As I was marching sadly down Portugal Street, I felt a hand on my shoulder and a rough voice which I knew well. " Veil, Mr. Stobbs, have I not kept my promise "i I told you dem boots would be your ruin.'' I was much too miserable to reply; and only cast my eyes towards the roofs of the houses, which I could not see for the tears. " Vat ! you begin to gry and blobber like a shild ? you vood marry, vood you 1 and noting vood do for you but a vife vid monny — ha, ha — but you vere de pigeon, and she was de grow. She has plocked you, too, pretty veil — eh 1 ha ! ha ! " " Oh, Mr. Stiffelkind," said I, " don't laugh at my misery : she has not left me a single shilling under heaven. And I shall starve : I do believe I shaU starve." And I began to cry fit to break my heart. "Starf ! stofif and nonsense ! You vill never die of starting — you viU die of hanging, I tink — ho ! ho ! — and it is nioch easier vay too." I didn't say a word, but cried on ; till everybody in the street turned round and stared. " Come, come," said StiflFelkind, " do not gry, Gaptain Stobbs — it is not goot for a Gaptain to gry — ha ! ha ! Dere — come vid me, and you shall have a dinner, and a bregfast too, — vich shall gost you nothing, imtil you can bay vid your earnings." And so this curious old man, who had persecuted me all through my prosperity, grew compassionate towards me in my ill-luck ; and took me home with him as he promised. " I saw your name among de Insolvents, and I vowed, you know, to make you repent dem boots. Dere now, it is done, and forgotten, look you. Here, Betty, Bettchen, make de spare bed, and put a clean knife and fork ; Lort Comvallis is come to dine vid me." I lived with this strange old man for six weeks. I kept his books, and did what little I could to m?ike myself usefuj ; carrying 582 THE FATAL BOOTS about boots and shoes, as if I had never bome His Majesty's com- mission. He gave me no money, but he fed and lodged me com- fortably. The men and boys used to laugh and call me General, and Lord Oornwallis, and aU sorts of nicknames ; and old StiflFel- kind made a thousand new ones for me. One day I can recollect — one miserable day, as I was polishing on the trees a pair of boots of Mr. Stiflfelkind's manufacture — the old gentleman came into the shop, with a lady on his arm. " Vere is Gap tain Stobbs ? " said he. " Vere is dat ornament to His Majesty's service 1 " I came in from the back shop, where I was polishing the boots, with one of them in my hand. " Look, my dear," says he, " here is an old friend of yours, his Excellency Lorfc Cornvallis ! — Who would have thought such a nobleman vood turn shoeblack? Gaptain Stobbs, here is your former flame, my dear niece. Miss Grotty. How could you, Magdalen, ever leaf such a lof of a man? Shake hands vid her, Gaptain ; — dere, never mind de blacking ! " But Miss drew back. " I never shake hands with a shoeblack," said she, mighty con- temptuous. " Bah ! my lof, his fingers von't soil you. Don't you know he has just been vitevashed ? " " I wish, uncle," says she, " you would not leave me with such low people." " Low, because he cleans boots ? De Gaptain prefers pumps to boots, I tink — ha ! ha ! " " Captain indeed ; a nice Captain," says Miss Crutty, snapping her fingers in my face, and walking away : " a Captain who has had his nose pulled ! ha ! ha ! " — And how could I help it ? it wasn't by my own choice that that rufiian Waters took such liberties with me. Didn't I show how averse I was to all quarrels by refusing altogether his challenge? — But such is the world. And thus the people at Stifielkind's used to tease me, until they drove me almost mad. At last he came home one day more merry and abusive than ever. "Gaptain," says he, "I have goot news for you — a goot place. Your Lordship vill not be able to geep your garridge, but you vill be gomfortable, and serve His Majesty." "Serve His Majesty?" says I. "Dearest Mr. Stifielkind, have you got me a place under Government ? " " Yes, and somting better still — not only a place, but a uniform : yes, Gaptain Stobbs, a red goat." "A red coat ! I hope you don't think I would demean myself by entering the ranks of the army? I am a gentleman, Mr, §tiffelkind — I can never — no, I never "" A GENERAL POST DELIVERY 583 " No, I know you will never — you are too great a goward — lia ! ha ! — though dis is a red coat, and a place where you must give some hard knocks too— ha ! ha! — do you gomprehend? — and you shall be a general instead of a gaptain — ha ! ha ! " " A general in a red coat, Mr. Stiffelkind t " " Yes, a General Bostman ! — ha ! ha ! I have been vid your old friend, Bunting, and he has an uncle in the Post-Office, and he has got you de place — eighteen shillings a veek, you rogue, and your goat. You must not oben any of de letters, you know." And so it was — I, Robert Stubbs, Esquire, became the vile thing he named — a general postman ! I was so disgusted with Stiffelkind's brutal jokes, which were now more brutal than ever, that when I got my place in the Post- Office, I never went near the fellow again ; for though he had done me a favour in keeping me from starvation, he certainly had done it in a very rude disagreeable manner, and showed a low and mean spirit in shoving me into such a degraded place as that of postman. But what had I to do? I submitted to fate, and for three years or more, Robert Stubbs, of the North Bungay Fencibles, was I wonder nobody recognised me. I lived in daily fear the first year : but afterwards grew accustomed to my situation, as all great men will do, and wore my red coat as naturally as if I had been sent into the world only for the purpose of being a letter-carrier. I was first in the Whitechapel district, where I stayed for nearly three years, when I was transferred to Jermyn Street and Duke Street — famous places for lodgings. I suppose I left a hundred letters at a house in the latter street, where lived some people who must have recognised me had they but once chanced to look at me. You see that, when I left Sloflfemsquiggle, and set out in the gay world, my mamma had written to me a dozen times at least ; but I never answered her, for I knew she wanted money, and I detest writing. WeU, she stopped her letters, finding she could get none from me : — ^but when I was in the Fleet, as I told you, I wrote repeatedly to my dear mamma, and was not a little nettled at her refusing to notice me in my distress, which is the very time one most wants notice. Stubbs is not an uncommon name ; and though I saw Mrs. Stubbs on a little bright brass plate in Duke Street, and delivered so many letters to the lodgers in her house, I never thought of asking who she was, or whether she was my relation or not. One day the young woman who took in the letters had not got change, and she called her mistress. An old lady in a poke-bonnet oame out of the parlour, and put on her spectacles, and looked at 584 THE FATAL BOOTS the letter, and fumbled in her pocket for eightpence, and apologised to the postman for keeping him waiting. And when I said, " Never mind, ma'am, it's no trouble," the old lady gave a start, and then she pulled off her spectacles, and staggered back ; and then she began muttering, as if about to choke ; and then she gave a great screech, and flung herself into my arms, and roared out, " My son, MY SON ! " " Law, mamma," said I, " is that you 'i " and I sat down on the hall bench with her, and let her kiss me as much as ever she liked. Hearing the whining and crying, down comes another lady from upstairs, — it was my sister Eliza; and down come the lodgers. And the maid gets water and what not, and I was the regular hero of the group. I could not stay long then, having my letters to deliver. But, in the evening, after mail-time, I went back to my mamma and sister; and, over a bottle of prime old port, and a precious good leg of boUed mutton and turnips, made myself pretty comfortable, I can tell you. DECEMBER—" THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT" MAMMA had kept the house in Duke Street for more than two years. I recollected some of the chairs and tables from dear old Sloffemsquiggle, and the bowl in which I had made that famous rum-punch, the evening she went away, which she and my sisters left untouched, and I was obliged to drink after they were gone ; but that's not to the purpose. Think of my sister Lucy's luck ! that chap, Waters, fell in love with her, and married her; and she now keeps her carriage, and lives in state near Sloffemsquiggle. I offered to make it up with Waters; but he bears malice, and never will see or speak to me. — He hkd the impudence, too, to say, that he took in all letters for mamma at Sloffemsquiggle ; and that as mine were all begging-letters, he burned them, and never said a word to her concerning them. He allowed mamma fifty pounds a year, and, if she were not such a fool, she might have had three times as much ; but the old lady was high and mighty forsooth, and would not be beholden, even to her own daughter, for more than she actually wanted. Even this fifty pound she was going to refuse ; but when I came to live with her, of course I wanted pocket-money as well as board and lodging, and so I had the fifty pounds for my share, and eked out with it as well as I could. Old Bates and the Captain, between them, gave mamma a hundred pounds when she left me (she had the deuce's own luck, to be sure — much more than ever fell to me, I know) ; and as she said she would try and work for her living, it was thought best to take a house and let lodgings, which she did. Our first and second floor paid us four guineas a week on an average ; and the front parlour and attic made forty pounds more. Mamma and Eliza used to have the front attic ; but / took that, and they slept in the servants' bed- room. Lizzy had a pretty genius for work, and earned a guinea a week that way ; so that we had got nearly two hundred a year over the rent to keep house with, — and we got on pretty well. Besides, women eat nothing: my women didn't care for meat for days together sometimes, — so that it was only necessary to dress a good steak or so for me. S86 THE FATAL BOOTS Mamma would not think of my continuing in the Post-Office. She said her dear Eobert, her husband's son, her gallant soldier, and all that, should remain at home and be a gentleman — which I was, certainly, though I didn't find fifty pounds a year very much to buy clothes and be a gentleman upon. To be sure, mother found me shirts and linen, so that that wasn't in the fifty pounds. She kicked a little at paying the washing too ; but she gave in at last, for I was her dear Bob; you know ; and I'm blest if I could not make her give me the gown off her back. Fancy ! once she cut up a very nice rich black silk scarf, which my sister Waters sent her, and made me a waistcoat and two stocks of it. She was so very soft, the old lady ! I'd lived in this way for five years or more, making myself content with my fifty pounds a year {perhaps I'd saved a little out of it ; but that's neither here nor there). From year's end to year's end I remained faithful to my dear mamma, never leaving her except for a month or so in the summer — when a bachelor may take a trip to Gravesend or Margate, which would be too expensive for a family. T say a bachelor, for the fact is, I don't know whether I am married or not — never having heard a word since of the scoundrelly Mrs. Stubbs. I never went to the public-house before meals : for, with my beggarly fifty pounds, I could not afford to dine away from home : but there I had my regular seat, and used to come home pretty glorious, I can tell you. Then bed till eleven ; then breakfast and the newspaper ; then a stroll in Hyde Park or St. James's ; then home at half-past three to dinner — when I jollied, as I call it, for the rest of the day. I was my mother's delight ; and thus, with a clear conscience, I managed to live on. How fond she was of me, to be sure ! Being sociable myself and loving to have my friends about me, we often used to assemble a company of as hearty fellows as you would wish to sit down with, and keep the nights up royally. " Never mind, my boys," I used to say, " send the bottle round : mammy pays for all." As she did, sure enough : and sure enough we punished her cellar too. The good old lady used to wait upon us, as if for all the world she had been my servant, instead of a lady and my mamma. Never used she to repine, though I often, as I must confess, gave her occasion (keep- ing her up till four o'clock in the morning, because she never could sleep until she saw her " dear Bob " in bed, and leading her a sad anxious life). She was of such a sweet temper, the old lady, that "THE WINTEE OP OUR BISOONTENT" 587 I think in the course of five years I never knew her in a passion, except twice : and then with sister Lizzy, who declared I was ruining the house, and driving the lodgers away, one by one. But mamma would not hear of such envious spite on my sister's part. " Her Bob" was always right, she said. At last Lizzy fairly retreated, and went to the Waters's. — I was glad of it, for her temper was dreadful, and we used to be squabbling from morning till night ! Ah, those were jolly times ! but ma was obliged to give up the lodging-house at last — for, somehow, things went wrong after my sister's departure — the nasty uncharitable people said, on account of me ; because I drove away the lodgers by smoking and drinking, and kicking up noises in the house ; and because ma gave me so much of her money : — so she did, but if she would give it, you know, how could I help it ? Heigho ! I wish I'd kept it. No such luck. The business I thought was to last for ever ; but at the end of two years came a smash — shut up shop — sell off everything. Mamma went to the Waters's : and, will you believe it ? the ungrateful wretches would not receive me ! that Mary, you see, was so disappointed at not marrying me. Twenty pounds a year they allow, it is true ; but what's that for a gentleman ■? For twenty years I have been struggling manfully to gain an honest livelihood, and, in the course of them, have seen a deal of life, to be sure. I've sold cigars and pocket-handkerchiefs at the comers of streets ; I've been a billiard-marker ; I've been a director (in the panic year) of the Imperial British Consolidated Mangle and Drying Ground Company. I've been on the stage (for two years as an actor, and about a month as a cad, when I was very low) ; I've been the means of giving to the police of this empire some very valuable information (about licensed victuallers, gentle- men's carts, and pawnbrokers' names) ; I've been very nearly an officer again — that is, an assistant to an officer of the Sheriff of Middlesex : it was my last place. On the last day of the year 1837, even that game was up. It's a thing that very seldom happened to a gentleman, to be kicked out of a spunging-house ; but such was my case. Young Nabb (who succeeded his father) drove me ignominiously from his door, because I had charged a gentleman in the coffee-room seven-and-sixpence for a glass of ale and bread and cheese, the charge of the house being only six shillings. He had the meanness to deduct the eighteen- pence from my wages, and because I blustered a bit, he took me by the shoulders and turned me out — me, a gentleman, and, what is more, a poor orphan ! How I did rage and swear at him when I got out into the street ! There stood he, the hideous Jew monster, at the double door, writh- 588 THE FATAL BOOTS ing under the effect of my language. I had my revenge ! Heads were thrust out of every bar of his windows, laughing at him. A crowd gathered round me, as I stood pounding him with my satire, and they evidently enjoyed his discomfiture. I think the mob would have pelted the ruffian to death (one or two of their missiles hit me, I can tell you), when a policeman came up, and in reply to a gentle- man, who was asking what was the disturbance, said, " Bless you, sir, it's Lord Cornwallis." " Move on, Boots," said the feUow to me ; for the fact is, my misfortunes and early life are pretty well known — and so the crowd dispersed. " What could have made that policeman call you Lord Cornwallis and Boots 1 " said the gentleman, who seemed mightily amused, and had followed me. " Sir," says I, " I am an unfortunate officer of the North Bungay Fencibles, and I'll tell you willingly for a pint of beer " He told me to follow him to his chambers in the Temple, which I did (a five-pair back), and there, sure enough, I had the beer ; and told him this very story you've been reading. You see he is what is called a literary man — and sold my adventures for me to the booksellers : he's a strange chap ; and says they're moral. I'm blest if / can see anything moral in them. I'm sure I ought to have been more lucky through life, being so very wide awake. And yet here I am, without a place, or even a friend, starving upon a beggarly twenty pounds a year — not a single six- pence more, upon my honour. THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY* CHAPTER I OF THE LOVES OF MR. PERKINS AND MISS GORGON, AND OF THE TWO GREAT FACTIONS IN THE TOIVN OF OLDBOROUGH MY dear John," cried Lucy, with a very wise look indeed, "it must and shall be so. As for Doughty Street, with our means, a house is out of the question. We must keep three servants, and Aunt Biggs says the taxes are one-and-twenty poimds a year." " I have seen a sweet place at Chelsea," remarked John : "Paradise Bow, No. 17, — garden — greenhouse — fifty pounds a year — omnibus to town within a mile.'' " What ! that I may be left alone all day, and you spend a fortune in driving backward and forward in those horrid breakneck cabs 1 My darling, I should die there — die of fright, I know I should. Did you not say yourself that the road was not as yet lighted, and that the place swarmed with public-houses and dreadful tipsy Irish bricklayers 1 Would you kiU me, John ? " "My da — arling," said John, with tremendous fondness, clutching Miss Lucy suddenly round the waist, and rapping the hand of that young person violently against his waistcoat, — " My da — arling, don't say such things, even in a joke. If I objected to the chambers, it is only because you, my love, with your birth and connections, ought to have a house of your own. The chambers are quite large enough, and certainly quite good enough for me." And so, after some more sweet parley on the part of these young people, it was agreed that they should take up their abode, when married, in a part of the House number One hundred and some- thing, Bedford Kow. * A story of Charles de Bernard furnished the plot of "The Bedford-Kow Conspiracy." 592 THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY It will be necessary to explain to the reader that John was no other than John Perkins, Esquire, of the Middle Temple, barrister- at-law, and that Miss Lucy was the daughter of the late Captain Gorgon, and Marianne Biggs, his wife. The Captain being of noble connections, younger son of a baronet, cousin to Lord X , and related to the Y family, had angered all his relatives by marrying a very silly pretty young woman, who kept a ladies'- school at Canterbury. She had six hundred pounds to her fortune, which the Captain laid out in the purchase of a sweet travelling- carriage and dressing-case for himself; and going abroad with his lady, spent several years in the principal prisons of Europe, in one of which he died. His wife and daughter were meantime supported by the contributions of Mrs. Jemima Biggs, who stiU kept the ladies'-school. At last a dear old relative — such a one as one reads of in romances — died and left seven thousand pounds apiece to the two sisters, whereupon the elder gave up schooling and retired to London ; and the younger managed to live with some comfort and decency at Brussels, upon two hundred and ten pounds per annum. Mrs. Gorgon never touched a shilling of her capital, for the very good reason that it was placed entirely out of her reach ; so that when she died, her daughter found herself in possession of a sum of money that is not always to be met with in this world. Her aunt the baronet's lady, and her aunt the ex-schoolmistress, both wrote very pressing invitations to her, and she resided with each for six months after her arrival in England. Now, for a second time, she had come to Mrs. Biggs, Caroline Place, Mecklen- burgh Square. It was under the roof of that respectable old lady that John Perkins, Esquire, being invited to take tea, wooed and won Miss Gorgon. Having thus described the circumstances of Miss Gorgon's life, let us pass for a moment from that young lady, and lift up the veil of mystery which envelops the deeds and character of Perkins. Perkins, too, was an orphan ; and he and his Lucy, of summer evenings, when Sol descending lingered fondly yet about the minarets of the Foundling, and gilded the grassplots of Mecklenburgh Square — Perkins, I say, and Lucy would often sit together in the summer- house of that pleasure-ground, and muse upon the strange coincidences of their life. Lucy was motherless and fatherless ; so too was Perkins. If Perkins was brotherless and sisterless, was not Lucy likewise an only child ? Perkins was twenty-three : his age and Lucy's united, amounted to forty-six ; and it was to be remarked, as a fact stUl more extraordinary, that while Lucy's relatives were aimts, John's were uncles. Mysterious spirit of love ! let us treat THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY 593 thee with respect and whisper not too many of thy secrets. The fact is, John and Lucy were a pair of fools (as every young couple ought to be who have hearts that are worth a farthing), and were ready to find coincidences, sympathies, hidden gushes of feeling, mystic unions of the soul, and what not, in every single circumstance that occurred from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof, and in the intervals. Bedford Row, where Perkins lived, is not very far from Mecklenburgh Square ; and John used to say that he felt a comfort that his house and Lucy's were served by the same muflBn-man. Further comment is needless. A more honest, simple, clever, warm-hearted, soft, whimsical, romanticaJ, high-spirited young feUow than John Perkins did not exist. When his father, Doctor Perkins, died, this, his only son, was placed under the care of John Perkins, Esquire, of the house of Perkins, Scully, and Perkins, those cele- brated attorneys in the trading town of Oldborough, which the second partner, William Pitt Scully, Esquire, represented in Parlia- ment and in London. All John's fortune was the house in Bedford Row, which, at his father's death, was let out into chambers, and brought in a clear hundred a year. Under his uncle's roof at Oldborough, where he hved with thu-teen red-haired male and female cousins, he was only charged fifty pounds for board, clothes, and pocket-money, and the remainder of his rents was carefully put by for him until his majority. When he approached that period — when he came to belong to two spouting-clubs at Oldborough, among the young merchants and lawyers' clerks — to blow the flute nicely, and play a good game at billiards — to have written one or two smart things in the Oldhoro%gh Sentinel — to be fond of smoking (in which act he was discovered by his fainting aunt at three o'clock one morning) — in one word, when John Perkins arrived at manhood, he discovered that he was quite rmfit to be an attorney, that he detested all the ways of his uncle's stem, dull, vulgar, regular, red-headed family, and he vowed that he would go to London and make his fortune. Thither he went, his aunt and cousins, who were aU " serious," vowing that he was a lost boy ; and when his history opens, John had been two years in the metropolis, inhabiting his own garrets ; and a very nice compact set of apartments, looking into the back-garden, at this moment falling vacant, the prudent Lucy Gorgon had visited them, and vowed that she and her John should there commence housekeeping. All these explanations are tedious, but necessary ; and further- more, it must be said, that as John's uncle's partner was the Liberal member for Oldborough, so Lucy's uncle was its Ministerial repre- sentative. 594 THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY This gentleman, the brother of the deceased Captain Gorgon, lived at the paternal mansion of Gorgon Castle, and rejoiced in the name and title of Sir George Grimsby Gorgon. He, too, like his younger brother, had married a lady beneath his own rank in life ; having espoused the daughter and heiress of Mr. Hicks, the great brewer at Oldborough, who held numerous mortgages on the Gorgon property, all of which he yielded up, together with his daughter Juliana, to the care of the baronet. What Lady Gorgon was in character, this history will show. In person, if she may be compared to any vulgar animal, one of her father's heavy, healthy, broad-flanked, Roman-nosed white dray- horses might, to the poetic mind, appear to resemble her. At twenty she was a splendid creature, and though not at her full growth, yet remarkable for strength and sinew; at forty-five she was as fine a woman as any in His Majesty's dominions. Five feet seven in height, thirteen stone, her own teeth and hair, she looked as if she were the mother of a regiment of Grenadier Guards. She had three daughters of her own size, and at length, ten years after the birth of the last of the young ladies, a son — one son — George Augustus Frederick Grimsby Gorgon, the godson of a royal duke, whose steady ofiicer in waiting Sir George had been for many years. It is needless to say, after entering so largely into a description of Lady Gorgon, that her husband was a little shrivelled wizen-faced creatm-e, eight inches shorter than her Ladyship. This is the way of the world, as every single reader of this book must have remarked ; for frolic love delights to join giants and pigmies of different sexes in the bonds of matrimony. When you saw her Ladyship, in flame- coloured satin and gorgeous toque and feathers, entering the drawing- room, as footmen along the stairs shouted melodiously, " Sir George and Lady Gorgon," you beheld in her company a small withered old gentleman, with powder and large royal household buttons, who Vtripped at her elbow as a little weak-legged colt does at the side of a stout mare. The little General had been present at about a hundred and twenty pitched battles on Hounslow Heath and Wormwood Scrubs, but had never drawn his sword against an enemy. As might be expected, therefore, his talk and tenue were outrageously military. He had the whole Army List by heart — that is, as far as the field- officers : all below them he scorned. A bugle at Gorgon Castle always sounded at breakfast and dinner : a gun announced sunset. He clung to his pigtail for many years after the army had forsaken that ornament, and could never be brought to think much of the Peninsular men for giving it up. When he spoke of the Duke, he used to call him " My Lord Wellington — / recollect him as THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY 595 Captain Wdlesley.'' He swore fearfully in conversation, was most regular at church, and regularly read to his family and domestics the morning and evening prayer ; he bullied his daughters, seemed to bully his wife, who led him whither she chose ; gave grand enter- tainments, and never asked a friend by chance; had splendid liveries, and starved his people ; and was as duU, stingy, pompous, insolent, cringing, ill-tempered a little creature as ever was known. With such qualities you may fancy that he was generally admired in society and by his country. So he was : and I never knew a man so endowed whose way through life was not safe — who had fewer pangs of conscience — more positive enjoyments — more respect shown to him — more favoiurs granted to him, than such a one as my friend the General. Her Ladyship was just suited to him, and they did in reality admire each other hugely. Previously to her marriage with the baronet, many love-passages had passed between her and William Pitt Scully, Esquire, the attorney; and there was especially one story, a propos of certain syllabubs and Sally-Lunn cakes, which seemed to show that matters had gone very far. Be this as it may, no sooner did the General (Major Gorgon he was then) cast an eye on her, than Scully's five years' fabric of love was instantly dashed to the ground. She cut him pitilessly, cut Sally Scully, his sister, her dearest friend and confidante, and bestowed her big person upon the little aide-de-camp at the end of a fortnight's wooing. In the course of time their mutual fathers died ; the Gorgon estates were unencumbered : patron of both the seats in the borough of Old- borough, and occupant of one, Sir George Grimsby Gorgon, Baronet, was a personage of no small importance. He was, it scarcely need to be said, a Tory ; and this was the reason why William Pitt Scully, Esquire, of the firm of Perkins and Scully, deserted those principles in which he had been bred and christened; deserted that chiurch which he had frequented, for he could not bear to see Sir George and my Lady flaunting in their grand pew; — deserted, I say, the church, adopted the conventicle, and became one of the most zealous and eloquent supporters that Freedom has known in our time. ScuUy, of the house of Scully and Perkins, was a dangerous enemy. In five years from that marriage, which snatched from the jilted solicitor his heart's young aflfections. Sir George Gorgon found that he must actually spend seven hundred pounds to keep his two seats. At the next election, a Liberal was set up against his man, and actually ran him hard ; and finally, at the end of eighteen years, the rejected ScuUy — the mean attorney — was actually the first Member for Oldborough, Sir Greorge Grimsby Gorgon, Baronet, being only the second \ 596 THE BEDFOED-EOW OONSPIEAOY The agony of that day cannot be imagined — the dreadful curses of Sir George, who saw fifteen hundred a year robbed from under his very nose — the religious resignation of my Lady — the hideous window-smashing that took place at the " Gorgon Arms," and the discomfiture of the pelted Mayor and Corporation. The very next Sunday, ScuUy was reconciled to the church (or attended it in the morning, and the meeting twice in the afternoon), and as Doctor Snorter uttered the prayer for the High Court of Parliament, his eye, the eye of his whole party — turned towards Lady Gorgon and Sir George in a most unholy triumph. Sir George (who always stood during prayers, like a military man) fairly sank down among the hassocks, and Lady Gorgon was heard to sob as audibly as ever did little beadle-belaboured urchin. Scully, when at Oldborough, came from that day forth to church. "What," said he, "was it to him? were we not aU brethren ? " Old Perkins, however, kept religiously to the Square- toes congregation. In fact, to tell the truth, this subject had been debated between the partners, who saw the advantage of courting both the Establishment and the Dissenters — a manoeuvre which, I need not say, is repeated in almost every country town in England, where a solicitor's house has this kind of power and connection. Three months after this election came the races at Oldborough, and the race-ball. Gorgon was so infuriated by his defeat, that he gave "the Gorgon cup and cover," a matter of fifteen pounds. Scully, "although anxious," as he wrote from town, "anxious beyond measure to preserve the breed of horses for which our beloved country has ever been famous, could attend no such sports as these, which but too often degenerated into vice." It was voted a shabby excuse. Lady Gorgon was radiant in her barouche and four, and gladly became the patroness of the ball that was to ensue ; and which all the gentry and townspeople, Tory and Whig, were in the custom of attending. The ball took place on the last day of the races. On that day, the walls of the market-house, the principal public buildings, and the "Gorgon Arms Hotel" itself, were plastered with the following — " Letter from our distinguished representative, William P. Scully, Esquire, etc., etc. "House of Commons: June\, 18—. "My dear Heeltap, — You know my opinion about horse racing, and though I blame neither you nor any brother English man who enjoys that manly sport, you will, I am sure, appreciate the conscientious motives which induce me not to appear among THE BEDFOED-ROW CONSPIRACY 597 my friends and constituents on the festival of the 3rd, 4th, and 5th instant. If /, however, cannot allow my name to appear among your list of stewards, one at least of the representatives of Old- borough has no such scruples. Sir George Gorgon is among you : and though I differ from that honourable Baronet on more than one vital point, 1 am glad to think that he is with you. A gentleman, a soldier, a man of property in the county, how can he be better employed than in forwarding the county's amuse- ments, and in forwarding the happiness of all? " Had I no such scruples as those to which I have just alluded, I must still have refrained from coming among you. Your great Oldborough common-drainage and enclosure bill comes on to-morrow, and I shall be at my post. I am sure, if Sir George Gorgon were here, he and I should on this occasion vote side by side, and that party strife would be forgotten in the object of our common interest — ov/r dear native town. " There is, however, another occasion at hand, in which I shall be proud to meet him. Your ball is on the night of the 6th. Party forgotten — brotherly union — innocent mirth — beauty, ow dear town's beauty, our daughters in the joy of their expanding loveliness, our matrons in the exquisite contemplation of their children's bliss — can you, can I, can Whig or Tory, can any Briton be indifferent to a scene like this, or refuse to join in this heart- stirring festival 1 If there be such let them pardon me — I, for one, my dear Heeltap, will be among you on Friday night — ay, and hereby invite all pretty Tory Misses, who are in want of a partner. " I am here in the very midst of good things, you know, and we old folks like a supper after a dance. Please to accept a brace of bucks and a turtle, which come herewith. My worthy colleague, who was so liberal last year of his soup to the poor,, will not, I trust, refuse to taste a little of Alderman Birch's — 'tis offered on my part with hearty goodwill. Hey for the 6th, and vive la joie I — Ever, my dear Heeltap, your faithful W. Pitt Scully. "jp.S. — Of course this letter is strictly private. Say that the venison, &c., came from a well^sher to Oldboroibgh." This amazing letter was pubhshed, in defiance of Mr. Scully's injunctions, by the enthusiastic Heeltap, who said bluntly, in a preface, " that he saw no reason why Mr. Scully should be ashamed of his action, and he, for his part, was glad to let all friends at Oldborough know of it." The allusion about the Gorgon soup was killing: thirteen 598 THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY paupers in Oldborough had, it was confidently asserted, died of it. Lady Gorgon, on the reading of this letter, was struck completely dumb ; Sir George Gorgon was wild. Ten dozen of champagne was he obliged to send down to the " Gorgon Arms," to be added to the festival. He would have stayed away if he could, but he dared not. At nine o'clock, he in general's uniform ; his wife in blue satin and diamonds ; his daughters in blue crape and white roses ; his niece, Lucy Gorgon, in white muslin ; his son, George Augustus Frederick Grimsby Gorgon, in a blue velvet jacket, sugar-loaf buttons, and nankeens, entered the north door of the ballroom, to much cheering, and the sound of " God save the King ! " At that very same moment, and from the south door, issued William Pitt Scully, Esquire, M.P., and his staff. Mr. Scully had a brand-new blue coat and brass buttons, baflf waistcoat, white kersey- mere tights, pumps with large rosettes, and pink silk stockings. " This wool," said he to a friend, " was grown on Oldborough sheep, this cloth was spun in Oldborough looms, these buttons were cast in an Oldborough manufactory, these shoes were made by an Oldborough tradesman, this heart first beat in Oldborough town, and pray Heaven may be buried there ! " Could anything resist a man like this 1 John Perkins, who had come down as one of Scully's aides-de-camp, in a fit of generous enthusiasm, leaped on a whist-table, flung up a pocket-handkerchief, and shrieked — " Scully for ever ! " Heeltap, who was generally drunk, fairly burst into tears, and the grave tradesmen and Whig gentry, who had dined with the Member at his inn, and accompanied him thence to the " Gorgon Arms," hfted their deep voices and shouted, " Hear ! " " Good i " " Bravo ! " . " Noble ! " " Scully for ever ! " " God bless him ! " and " Hurrah ! " The scene was tumultuously affecting ; and when young Perkins sprang down from the table and came blushing up to the Member, that gentleman said, " Thank you. Jack ! thank you, my boy ! THANK you," in a way which made Perkins think that his supreme cup of bliss was quaffed ; that he had but to die : for that life had no other such joy in store for him. Scully was Perkins's Napoleon — he yielded himself up to the attorney, body and soul. Whilst this scene was going on under one chandelier of the ball- room, beneath the other scarlet little General Gorgon, sumptuous Lady Gorgon, the daughters and niece Gorgons, were standing sur- rounded by their Tory court, who affected to sneer and titter at the Whig demonstrations which were taking place. " What a howwid thmell of whithkey ! " lisped Comet Fitch, of THE BEDPOED-ROW CONSPIRACY 599 the Dragoons, to Miss Lucy, confidentially. " And thethe are what they call Whigth, are they ? He ! he ! " " They are drunk, — — me — ^drunk, by ! " said the General to the Mayor. " Which is Scully ? " said Lady Gorgon, lifting her glass gravely (she was at that very moment thinking of the syllabubs). " Is it that tipsy man in the green coat, or that vulgar creature in the blue one ? " " Law, my Lady," said the Mayoress, " have you forgotten him 1 Why, that's him in blue and bufi-." " And a monthous fine man, too," said Comet Fitch. " I wish we had him in our twoop — he'th thix feet thwee, if he'th an inch ; ain't he, Genewal ? " No reply. " And heavens ! mamma,'' shrieked the three Gorgons in a breath, " see, one creature is on the whist-table. Oh, the wretch ! " "I'm sure he's very good-looking," said Lucy simply. Lady Gorgon darted at her an angry look, and was about to say something very contemptuous, when, at that instant, John Perkins's shout taking effect. Master George Augustus Frederick Grimsby Gorgon, not knowing better, incontinently raised a small shout on his side. " Hear ! good ! bravo ! " exclaimed he ; " Scully for ever ! Hurra-a-Bray ! " and fell skipping about like the Whigs opposite. " Silence, you brute you ! " groaned Lady Gorgon ; and seizing him by the shirt-frill and coat-collar, carried him away to his nurse, who, with many other maids of the Whig and Tory parties, stood giggling and peeping at the landing-place. Fancy how all these small incidents augmented the heap of Lady Gorgon's anger and injuries ! She was a dull phlegmatic woman for the most part, and contented herself generally with merely despising her neighbours ; but oh ! what a fine active hatred raged in her bosom for victorious Scully ! At this moment Mr. Perkins had finished shaking hands with his Napoleon — Napoleon seemed bent upon some tremendous enterprise. He was looking at Lady Gorgon very hard. " She's a fine woman," said Scully thoughtfully ; he was still holding the hand of Perkins. And then, after a pause, " Gad ! I think I'll try. ' "Try what, sir?" " She's a deuced fine woman ! " burst out again the tender solicitor. " I will go. Springer, tell the fiddlers to strike up." Springer scuttled across the room, and gave the leader of the band a knowing nod. Suddenly, " God save the King " ceased, and 6oo THE BEDPOED-EOW CONSPIEACY " Su- Eoger de Coverley " began. The rival forces eyed each other ; Mr. Scully, accompanied by his friend, came forward, looking very red, and fumbling two large kid gloves. " He's going to ask me to dance," hissed out Lady Gorgon, with a dreadful intuition, and she drew back behind her lord. " D — — it, madam, then dance with him ! " said the General. " Don't you see that the scoundrel is carrying it all his own way ! him ! and him ! and him ! " (All of which dashes the reader may fill up with oaths of such strength as may be requisite.) " General ! " cried Lady Gorgon, but could say no more. Scully was before her. " Madam ! " exclaimed the Liberal Member for Oldborough, " in a moment like this — I say — that is — that on the present occasion — your Ladyship — unaccustomed as I am — pooh, psha — will your Ladyship give me the distinguished honour and pleasure of going down the country-dance with your Ladyship % " An immense heave of her Ladyship's ample chest was per- ceptible. Yards of blond lace, which might be compared to a foam of the sea, were agitated at the same moment, and by the same mighty emotion. The river of diamonds which flowed round her Ladysliip's neck, seemed to sweU and to shine more than ever. The tall plumes on her ambrosial head bowed down beneath the storm. In other words. Lady Gorgon, in a furious rage, which she was compelled to restrain, trembled, drew up, and bowing majestically, said — "Sir, I shall have much pleasure." With this, she extended her hand. Scully, trembling, thrust forward one of his huge kid- gloves, and led her to the head of the country-dance. John Perkins — who I presimie had been drinking pretty freely, so as to have forgotten his ordinary bashfulness — looked at the three Gorgons in blue, then at the pretty smiling one in white, and stepping up to her, without the smallest hesitation, asked her if she would dance with him. The young lady smilingly agreed. The great example of Scully and Lady Gorgon was followed by all dancing men and women. Political enmities were forgotten. Whig voters invited Tory voters' wives to the dance. The daughters of Eeform accepted the hands of the sons of Conservatism. The reconciliation of the Eomans and Sabines was not more touching than this sweet fusion. Whack — whack ! Mr. Springer clapped his hands ; and the fiddlers adroitly obeying the cheerful signal, began playing " Sir Eoger de Coverley " louder than ever. I do not know by what extraordinary charm (nescio qud prceter solitum, &c.), but young Perkins, who all his life had hated country- THE BEDFOED-EOW OONSPIEACY 6oi dances, was delighted with this one, and skipped and laughed, pous- setting, crossing, down-the-middling, with his merry little partner, till every one of the bettermost sort of the thirty-nine couples had dropped panting away, and till the youngest Miss Gorgon, coming up to his partner, said in a loud hissing scornful whisper, " Lucy, mamma thinks you have danced quite enough with this — this person." And Lucy, blushing, starting back, and looking at Perkins in a very melancholy way, made him a little curtsey, and went off to the Gorgonian party with her cousin. Perkins was too frightened to lead her back to her place — too frightened at first, and then too angiy. " Person ! " said he : his soul swelled with a desperate re- publicanism : he went back to his patron more of a Eadical than ever. He found that gentleman in the solitary tea-room, pacing up and down before the observant landlady and handmaidens of the "Gorgon Arms," wiping his brows, gnawing his fingers — his ears looming over his stiff white shirt-collar as red as fire. Once more the great man seized John Perkins's hand as the latter came up. " D the aristocrats ! " roared the ex-follower of Squaretoes. " And so say I ! but what's the matter, sir ? " " What's the matter 1 — Why, that woman — that infernal, haughty, straitlaced, cold-blooded brewer's daughter ! I loved that woman, sir — I kissed that woman, sir, twenty years ago : we were all but engaged, sir : we've walked for hours and hours, sir — us and the governess — I've got a lock of her hair, sir, among my papers now; and to-night, would you believe it? — as soon as she got to the bottom of the set, away she went — not one word would she speak to me all the way down : and when I wanted to lead her to her place, and asked her if she would have a glass of negus, ' Sir,' says she, ' I have done my duty ; I bear no malice : but I consider you a traitor to Sir George Gorgon's family — a traitor and an upstart ! I consider your speaking to me as a piece of insolent vulgarity, and beg you will leave me to myself ! ' There's her speech, sir. Twenty people heard it, and all of her Tory set too. I'U tell you what. Jack : at the next election I'll put you up. Oh that woman ! that woman ! — and to think that I love her still ! " Here Mr. Scully paused, and fiercely consoled himself by swallow- ing three cups of Mrs. Eincer's green tea. The act is, that Lady Gorgon's passion had completely got the better ot her reason. Her Ladyship was naturally cold, and artificially extremely squeamish ; and when this great red-faced enemy of hers looked tenderly at her through his red little eyes, and squeezed her hand and attempted to renew old acquaintance, she felt such an intolerable disgust at his triumph, at his familiarity, 6o2 THE BEDFORD-EOW CONSPIRACY and at the remembrance of her own former liking for him, that she gave utterance to the speech above correctly reported. The Tories were delighted with her Spirit, and Cornet Fitch, with much glee, told the story to the General ; but that officer, who was at whist with some of his friends, flimg down his cards, and coming up to his lady, said briefly — " Madam, you are a fool ! " " I will not stay here to be bearded by that disgusting man ! — Mr. Fitch, call my people. — Henrietta, bring Miss Lucy from that linendraper with whom she is dancing. I will not stay, General, once for all." Henrietta ran — she hated her cousin : Comet Fitch was depart- ing. " Stop, Fitch," said Sir George, seizing him by the arm. " You are a fool. Lady Gorgon,'' said he, " and I repeat it — a fool ! This fellow Scully is carrying aU before him : he has talked with everybody, laughed with everybody — and you, with your infernal airs — a brewer's daughter, by -, must sit like a queen and not speak to a soul ! You've lost me one seat of my borough, with your infernal pride — fifteen hundred a year, by Jove ! — and you think you will bully me out of another. No, madam, you shall stay, and stay supper too; — and the girls shall dance with every cursed chimney-sweep and butcher in the room : they shall — confound me ! " Her Ladyship saw that it was necessary to submit ; and Mr. Springer, the master of the ceremonies, was called, and requested to point out some eligible partners for the young ladies. One went off with a Whig auctioneer ; another figured in a quadriUe with a very Liberal apothecary ; and the third. Miss Henrietta, remained. " Hallo you, sir ! " roared the little General to John Perkins, who was passing by. John turned round and faced him. " You were dancing with my niece just now — show us your skill now, and dance with one of my daughters. Stand up. Miss Henrietta Gorgon — Mr. What's-your-name ? " " My name," said John, with marked and majestic emphasis, " is Peekins." And he looked towards Lucy, who dared not look again. " Miss Gorgon — Mr. Perkins. There, now go and dance." "Mr. Perkins regrets, madam," said John, making a bow to Miss Henrietta, " that he is not able to dance this evening. I am this moment obliged to look to the supper ; but you will find, no doubt, some other person who will have much pleasure." "Go to , su:!" screamed the General, starting up, and shaking his cane. ''Calm yourself, dearest George," said Lady Gorgon, clinging THE BEDFOED-ROW CONSPIRACY 603 fondly to him. Pitch twiddled his moustaches. Miss Hemietta Gorgon stared with open mouth. The silks of the surrounding dowagers rustled — the countenances of all looked grave. "I will follow you, sir, wherever you please; and you may hear of me whenever you like," said Mr. Perkins, bowing and retiring. He heard little Lucy sobbing in a corner. He was lost at once — lost in love; he felt as if he could combat fifty generals ! he never was so happy in his life. The supper came ; but as that meal cost five shillings a head, Greneral Gorgon dismissed the four spinsters of his family homewards in the carriage, and so saved himself a pound. This added to Jack Perkins's wrath ; he had hoped to have seen Miss Lucy once more. He was a steward, and, in the General's teeth, would have done his duty. He was thinking how he would have helped her to the most delicate chicken-wings and blancmanges, how he would have made her take champagne. Under the noses of indignant aunt and uncle, what glorious fun it would have been ! Out of place as Mr. Scully's present was, and though Lady Gorgon and her party sneered at the vulgar notion of venison and turtle for supper, all the world at Oldborough ate veiy greedily of those two substantial dishes; and the Mayor's wife became from that day forth a mortal enemy of the Gorgons : for, sitting near her Ladyship, who refused the proffered soup and meat, the Mayoress thought herself obliged to follow this disa^eeable example. She sent away the plate of turtle with a sigh, saying, however, to the baronet's lady, " I thought, mem, that the Lord Mayor of London always had turtle to his supper ? " " And what if he didn't, Biddy ? " said his Honour the Mayor ; " a good thing's a good thing, and here goes ! " wherewith he plunged his spoon into the savoury mess. The Mayoress, as we have said, dared not ; but she hated Lady Gorgon, and remembered it at the next election. The pride, in fact, and insolence of the Gorgon party rendered every person in the room hostile to them ; so soon as, gorged with meat, they began to find that covu'age which Britons invariably derive from their victuals. The show of the Gorgon plate seemed to offend the people. The Gorgon champagne was a long time, too, in making its appearance. Arrive, however, it did. The people were waiting for it ; the young ladies, not accustomed to that drink, declined pledging their admirers until it was produced ; the men, too, despised the bucellas and sherry, and were looking continually towards the door. At last, Mr. Rincer, the landlord, Mr. Hock, Sir George's butler, and sundry others entered the room. Bang ! W?nt the corks — fizz the foamy liquor sparkled into fill sorts of 6o+ THE BEDFOED-ROW CONSPIRACY glasses that were held out for its reception. Mr. Hock helped Sir George and his party, who drank with great gusto ; the wine which was administered to the persons immediately around Mr. Scully was likewise pronounced to be good. But Mr. Perkins, who had taken his seat among the humbler individuals, and in the very middle of the table, observed that all these persons, after drinking, made to each other very wry and ominous faces, and whispered much. He tasted his wine : it was a villainous compound of sugar, vitriol, sodarwater, and green gooseberries. At this moment a great clatter of forks was made by the president's and vice-president's party. Silence for a toast — 'twas silence all. "Landlord," said Mr. Perkins, starting up (the rogue, where did his impudence come from?) "have you any champagne of yowr own 1 " " Silence ! down ! " roared the Tories, the ladies looking aghast. " Silence, sit down you ! " shrieked the well-known voice of the General. " I beg your pardon, General," said young John Perkins j " but where could you have bought this champagne ? My worthy friend I know is going to propose the ladies ; let us at any rate drink such a toast in good wine." (" Hear, hear ! ") "Drink her Ladyship's health in this stuff? I declare to goodness I would sooner drink it in beer ! " No pen can describe the uproar which arose : the anguish of the Gorgonites — the shrieks, jeers, cheers, ironic cries of " Swipes ! " &c., which proceeded from the less genteel but more enthusiastic Scullyites. " This vulgarity is too much,'' said Lady Gorgon, rising ; and Mts. Mayoress and the ladies of the party did so too. The General, two squires, the clergyman, the Gorgon apothecary and attorney, with their respective ladies, followed her : they were plainly beaten from the field. Such of the Tories as dared remained, and in inglorious compromise shared the jovial Whig feast. " Gentlemen and ladies," hiccoughed Mr. Heeltap, " I'll give you a toast. ' Champagne to oiu' real — hie — friends,' no, ' Real champagne to our friends,' and — hie — pooh ! ' Champagne to our friends, and real pain to our enemies,' — huzzay ! " The Scully faction on this day bore the victory away, and if the. polite reader has been shocked by certain vulgarities on the part of Mr. Scully and his friends, he must remember imprimis that Oldborough was an inconsiderable place — that the inhabitants thereof were chiefly tradespeople, not of refined habits — that Mr. Scully himself had only for three months mingled among the aristocracy — that his young friend Perkins w£ts violently angry — and finally, and THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY 605 to conclude, that the proud vulgarity of the great Sir George Gorgon and his family was infinitely more odious and contemptible than the mean vulgarity of the Scullyites and their leader. Immediately after this event, Mr. Scully and his young friend Perkins returned to town ; the latter to his garrets in Bedford Row — the former to his apartments on the first floor of the same house. He lived here to superintend his legal business : his London agents, Messrs. Higgs, Biggs, and Blatherwick, occupying the ground floor ; the junior partner, Mr. Gustavus Blatherwick, the second flat of the house. Scully made no secret of his profession or residence : he was an attorney, and proud of it ; he was the grandson of a labourer, and thanked God for it ; he had made his fortune by his own honest labom-, and why should he be ashamed of it 1 And now, having explained at full length who the several heroes and heroines of this history were, and how they conducted them- selves in the country, let us describe their behaviour in London, and the great events which occurred there. You must know that Mr. Perkins bore away the tenderest re- collections of the young lady with whom he had danced at the Oldborough ball, and, having taken particular care to find out where she dwelt when in the metropolis, managed soon to become acquainted with Aunt Biggs, and made himself so amiable to that lady, that she begged he would pass all his disengaged evenings at her lodgings in Caroline Place. Mrs. Biggs was perfectly aware that the young gentleman did not come for her bohea and muffins, so much as for the sweeter conversation of her niece. Miss Gorgon ; but seeing that these two young people were of an age when ideas of love and marriage wiU spring up, do what you will ; seeing that her niece had a fortune, and Mr. Perkins had the prospect of a place, and was moreover a very amiable and weU-disposed young fellow, she thought her niece could not do better than marry him ; and Miss Gorgon thought so too. Now the public will be able to understand the meaning of that important conversation which is recorded at the very commencement of this history. Lady Gorgon and her family were likewise in town ; but, when in the metropolis, they never took notice of their relative, Miss Lucy : the idea of acknowledging an ex-schoolmistress living in Mecklenburgh Square being much too preposterous for a person of my Lady Gorgon's breeding and fashion. She did not, therefore, know of the progress which sly Perkins was making all this while , for Lucy Gorgon did not think it was at all necessary to inform her Ladyship how deeply she was smitten by the wicked young gentle- man who had made all the disturbance at the Oldborough ball. The intimacy of these young persons had, in fact, become bo 6o6 THE BEDPORD-EOW CONSPIRACY close, that on a certain sunshiny Sunday in December, after having accompanied Aunt Biggs to church, they had pursued their walk as far as that rendezvous of lovers, the Regent's Park, and were talking of their coming marriage, with much confidential tenderness, before the bears in the Zoological Gardens. Miss Lucy was ever and anon feeding those interesting animals with buns, to perform which act of charity she had clambered up on the parapet which surrounds their den. Mr. Perkins was below ; and Miss Lucy, having distributed her buns, was on the point of following, — but whether from timidity, or whether from a desire to do young Perkins an essential service, I know not : however, she found herself quite unwilling to jump down unaided. "My dearest John," said she, "I never can jump that." Whereupon John stepped up, put one hand round Lucy's waist ; and as one of hers gently fell upon his shoulder, Mr. Perkins took the other and said — " Now jump." Hoop ! jump she did, and so excessively active and clever was Mr. John Perkins, that he jumped Miss Lucy plump into the middle of a group formed of — Lady Gorgon ; The Misses Gorgon ; Master George Augustus Frederick Grimsby Gorgon ; And a footman, poodle, and French governess; who had all been for two or three minutes listening to the billings and cooings of these imprudent young lovers. CHAPTER II SHOtfS HOW THE PLOT BEGAN TO THICKEN IN OR ABOUT BEDFORD ROIV M" ISS Lucy ! " " Upon my word ! " " I'm hanged if it aren't Lucy ! How do, Lupy," uttered Lady, the Misses, and Master Gorgon in a breath. Lucy came forward, bending down her ambrosial curls, and blushing, as a modest young woman should : for, in truth, the scrape was very awkward. And as for John Perkins, he made a start, and then a step forwards, and then two backwards, and then began laying hands upon his black satin stock — in short, the sun did not shine at that moment upon a man who looked so exquisitely foolish. " Miss Lucy Gorgon, is your aunt — is Mrs. Briggs here ? " said Lady Gorgon, drawing herself up with much state. " Mrs. Biggs, aunt ? " said Lucy demurely. " Biggs or Briggs, madam, it is not of the slightest consequence. I presume that persons in my rank of life are not expected to know everybody's name in Magdeburg Square?" (Lady Gorgon had a house in Baker Street, and a dismal house it was.) "Not here," continued she, rightly interpreting Lucy's silence, "not here? — and may I ask how long is it that young ladies have been allowed to walk abroad without chaperons, and to — to take a part in such scenes as that which we have just seen acted ? " To this question — and indeed it was rather difficult to answer — Miss Gorgon had no reply. There were the six grey eyes of her cousins glowering at her; there was George Augustus Frederick examining her with an air of extreme wonder. Mademoiselle the governess turning her looks demurely away, and awful Lady Gorgon o-lancing fiercely at her in front. Not mentioning the footman and poodle, what could a poor modest timid girl plead before such an inquisition, especially when she was clearly guilty ? Add to this, that as Lady Gorgon, that majestic woman, always remarkable for her size and insolence of demeanour, had planted herself in the middle of the path, and spoke at the extreme pitch of her voice, 6o8 THE BEDFOED-EOW CONSPIEACY many persons walking in the neighbourhood had heard her Lady- ship's speech and stopped, and seemed disposed to await the rejoinder. " For Heaven's sake, aunt, don't draw a crowd around us," said Lucy, who, indeed, was glad of the only escape that lay in her power. " I will tell you of the — of the circumstances of — of my engagement with this gentleman — with Mr. Perkins," added she, in a softer tone — so soft that the 'erhins was quite inaudible. "A Mr. What? An engagement without consulting your guardians ! " screamed her Ladyship. " This must be looked to ! Jerningham, call round my carriage. Mademoiselle, you will have the goodness to walk home with Master Gorgon, and carry him, if you please, where there is wet ; and, girls, as the day is fine, you will do likewise. Jerningham, you will attend the young ladies. Miss Gorgon, I will thank you to follow me immediately." And so saying, and looking at the crowd with ineffable scorn, and at Mr. Perkins not at all, the lady bustled away forwards, the files of Gorgon daughters and governess closing round and enveloping poor Lucy, who found herself carried forward against her will, and in a minute seated in her aunt's coach, along with that tremendous person. Her case was bad enough, but what was it to Perkins's ? Fancy his blank surprise and rage at having his love thus suddenly ravished from him, and his delicious tete-a-tSte interrupted. He managed, in an inconceivably short space of time, to conjure up half-ar-million obstacles to his union. What should he do ? he would rush on to Baker Street, and wait there until his Lucy left Lady Gorgon's house. He could find no vehicle in the Eegent's Park, and was in con- sequence obliged to make his journey on foot. Of course, he nearly killed himself with running, and ran so quick, that he was just in time to see the two ladies step out of Lady Gorgon's carriage at her own house, and to hear Jemingham's fellow-footman roar to the Gorgonian coachman, " Half-past seven ! " at which hour, we are, to this day, convinced that Lady Gorgon was going out to dine. Mr. Jemingham's associate having banged to the door, -with an insolent look towards Perkins, who was prying in with the most suspicious and indecent curiosity, retired, exclaiming, " That chap has a hi to our greatcoats, I reckon ! " and left John Perkins to pace the street and be miserable. John Perkins then walked resolutely up and down dismal Baker Street, determined on an dclaircissement. He was for some time occupied in thinking how it was that the Gorgons were not at church, they who made such a parade of piety ; and John Perkins THE BEDPOED-EOW CONSPIEACY ^00 smiled as he paesed the chapel, and saw that two charity sermons were to be preached that day — and therefore it was that General Gorgon read prayers to his family at home in the morning. Perkins, at last, saw that little General, in blue frock-coat and spotless buff gloves, saunter scowling home ; and half-an-hour before his arrival had witnessed the entrance of Jerningham, and the three gaunt Miss Gorgons, poodle, son-and-heir, and French governess, pro- tected by him, mto Su- George's mansion. " Can she be going to stay all night 1 " mused poor John, after being on the watch for three hours: "that footman is the only person who has left the house : " when presently, to his inexpressible delight, he saw a very dirty hackney-coach clatter up to the Gorgon door, out of which first issued the ruby plush breeches and stalwart calves of Mr. Jerningham; these were followed by his body, and then the gentleman, ringing modestly, was admitted. Again the door opened : a lady came out, nor was she followed by the footman, who crossed his legs at the door-post and allowed her to mount the jingling vehicle as best she might. Mr. Jerning- ham had witnessed the scene in the Park Gardens, had listened to the altercation through the library keyhole, and had been mighty sulky at being ordered to call a coach for this young woman. He did not therefore deign to assist her to mount. But there was one who did ! Perkins was by the side of his Lucy : he had seen her start back and cry, " La, John ! " — had felt her squeeze his arm — had mounted with her into the coach, and then shouted with a voice of thunder to the coachman, " Caroline Place, Mecklenburgh Square." But Mr. Jerningham would have been much more surprised and puzzled if he had waited one minute longer, and seen this Mr. Perkins, who had so gallantly escaladed the hackney-coach, step out of it with the most mortified, miserable, chapfallen counte- nance possible. The fact is, he had found poor Lucy sobbing fit to break her heart, and instead of consoling her, as he expected, he only seemed to irritate her further : for she said, " Mr. Perkins — I beg— I insist, that you leave the carriage." And when Perkins made some move- ment (which, not being in the vehicle at the time, we have never been able to comprehend), she suddenly sprang from the back-seat and began pulUng at a large piece of cord which communicated with the wrist of the gentleman driving; and, screaming to him at the top of her voice, bade him immediately stop. This Mr. Coachman did, with a curious, puzzled, grinning air. Perkins descended, and on being asked, "Vere ham I to drive the young 'oman, sir?" I am sorry to say muttered something like 3 2 Q 6io THE BEDFORB-EOW OONSPlEACY an oath, and uttered the above-mentioned words, " Caroline Place, Mecklenburgh Square," in a tone which I should be inclined to describe as both dogged and sheepish — very different from that cheery voice which he had used when he first gave the order. Poor Lucy, in the course of those fatal three hours which had passed while Mr. Perkins was pacing up and down Baker Street, had received a lecture which lasted exactly one hundred and eighty minutes — from her aunt first, then from her uncle, whom we have seen marching homewards, and often from both together. Sir George Gorgon and his lady poured out such a flood of advice and abuse against the poor girl, that she came away from the interview quite timid and cowering; and when she saw John Perkins (the sly rogue ! how well he thought he had managed the trick !) she shrank from hira as if he had been a demon of wickedness, ordered him out of the carriage, and went home by herself, convinced that she had committed some tremendous sin. While, then, her coach jingled away to Caroline Place, Perkins, once more alone, bent his steps in the same direction. A desperate, heart-stricken man, he passed by the beloved's door, saw lights in the front drawing-room, felt probably that she was there ; but he could not go in. Moodily he paced down Doughty Street, and turning abruptly into Bedford Row, rushed into his own chambers, where Mrs. Snooks, the laundress, had prepared his humble Sabbath meal. A cheerful fire blazed in his garret, and Mrs. Snooks had pre- pared for him the favourite blade-bone he loved (blest four-days' dinner for a bachelor — roast, cold, hashed, grilled blade-bone, the fourth being better than the first) ; but although he usually did rejoice in this meal — ordinarily, indeed, grumbling that there was not enough to satisfy him — he, on this occasion, after two mouthfuls, flung down his knife and fork, and buried his two claws in his hair. " Snooks," said he at last, very moodily, " remove this d mutton, give me my writing things, and some hot brandy-and-water.'' This was done without much alarm : for you must know that Perkins used to dabble in poetry, and ordinarily prepared himself for composition by this kind of stimulus. He wrote hastily a few lines. " Snooks, put on your bonnet," said he, " and carry this — you htww where ! " he added, in a hollow, heart-breaking tone of voice, that afiected poor Snooks almost to tears. She went, however, with the note, which was to this piu-pose : — "Lucy ! Lucy ! my soul's love — ^what, what has happened? I am writing this" — (a gulp of hramdy-omd-water) — "in a state THE BEDPORD-EOW CONSPIRACY 611 bordering on distraction — madness — insanity" (another). "Why did you send me out of the coach in that cruel, cruel way? Write to me a word, a line — tell me, tell me, I may come to you — and leave me not in this agonising condition ; your faithful " (glog — giog — glog the whole glass) J. P." He never signed John Perkins in full — ^he couldn't, it was so unromantic. Well, this missive was despatched by Mrs. Snooks, and Perkins, m a fearful state of excitement, haggard, wild, and with more brandy-and-water, awaited the return of his messenger. When at length, after about an absence of forty years, as it seemed to him, the old lady returned with a large packet, Perkins seized it with a trembling hand, and was yet more frightened to see the handwriting of Mrs. or Miss Biggs, " My dear Me. Perkins," she began — " Although I am not your soul's adored, I performed her part for once, since I have read your letter, as I told her. You need not be very much alarmed, although Lucy is at this moment in bed and unwell : for the poor girl has had a sad scene at her grand uncle's house in Baker Street, and came home very much affected. Rest, however, will restore her, for she is not one of your nervous sort ; and I hope when you come in the morning, you will see her as blooming as she was when you went out to-day on that unlucky walk. " See what Sir George Gorgon says of us all ! You won't challenge him, I know, as he is to be your uncle, and so I may show you his letter. " Good-night, my dear John. Do not go quite distracted before morning ; and believe me your loving aunt, Jemima. Biggs." " Bakeb Stbbet : 11th December. " Majoe-Geneeal Sie Geoege Goegon has heard with the utmost disgust and surprise of the engagement which Miss Lucy Gorgon has thought fit to form. " The Major-General cannot conceal his indignation at the share which Miss Biggs has taken in this disgraceful transaction. "Sir George Gorgon puts an absolute veto upon all further communication between his niece and the low-bom adventurer who had been admitted into her society, and begs to say that Lieutenant Fitch, of the Lifeguards, is the gentleman who he intends shall marry Miss Gorgon. 6i2 THE BEDFOnr) ROW CONSPIRACY " It is the Major-General's wish, that on the 28th Miss Gorgon should be ready to come to his house, in Baker Street, where she will be more safe from impertinent intrusions than she has been in Mucklebury Square. "Mrs. Biggs, " Caroline Place, " Mecklenburgh Square.' When poor John Perkins read this epistle, blank rage and wonder filled his soul, at the audacity of the little General, who thus, without the smallest title in the world, pretended to dispose of the hand and fortune of his niece. The fact is, that Sir George had such a transcendent notion of his own dignity and station, that it never for a moment entered his head that his niece, or anybody else connected with him, should take a single step in life without previously receiving his orders ; and Mr. Fitch, a baronet's son, having expressed an admiration of Lucy, Sir George had determined that his suit should be accepted, and really considered Lucy's preference of another as downright treason. John Perkins determined on the death of Fitch as the very least reparation that should satisfy him ; and vowed too that some of the General's blood should be shed for the words which he had dared to utter. We have said that William Pitt Scully, Esquire, M.P., occupied the first floor of Mr. Perkins's house in Bedford Row : and the reader is further to be informed that an immense friendship had sprung up between these two gentlemen. The fact is, that poor John was very much flattered by ScuUy's notice, and began in a very short time to fancy himself a political personage ; for he had made several of Scully's speeches, written more than one letter from him to his constituents, and, in a word, acted as his gratis clerk. At least a guinea a week did Mr. Perkins save to the pockets of Mr. Scully, and with hearty goodwill too, for he adored the great William Pitt, and believed every word that dropped from the pompous lips of that gentleman. Well, after having discussed Sir George Gorgon's letter, poor Perkins, in the utmost fury of mind that his darling should be slandered so, feeling a desire for fresh air, determined to descend to the garden and smoke a cigar in that rural quiet spot. The night was very calm. The moonbeams slept softly upon the herbage of Gray's Inn gardens, and bathed with silver splendour Theobald's Row. A million of little frisky twinkling stars attended their queen, who looked with bland round face upon their gambols, as they peepei in and out from the azure heavens. Along Gray's Inn THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY 613 wall a lazy row of cabs stood listlessly, for who would call a cab on such a night? Meanwhile their drivers, at the alehouse near, smoked the short pipe or quaffed the foaming beer. Perhaps from Gray's Inn Lane some broken sounds of Irish revelry might rise. Issuing perhaps from Raymond Buildings gate, six lawyers' clerks might whoop a tipsy song — or the loud watchman yell the passing hour; but beyond this all was silence; and young Perkias, as he sat in the summer-house at the bottom of the garden, and contem- plated the peaceful heaven, felt some influences of it entering into his soul, and almost forgetting revenge, thought but of peace and love. Presently, he was aware there was some one else pacing the garden. Who could' it be? — Not Blatherwick, for he passed the Sabbath with his grandmamma at Clapham ; not Scully surely, for he always went to Bethesda Chapel, and to a select prayer-meeting afterwards. Alas ! it was Scully ; for though that gentleman mid that he went to chapel, we have it for a fact that he did not always keep his promise, and was at this moment employed in rehearsing an extempore speech, which he proposed to deliver at St. Stephen's. " Had I, sir," spouted he, with folded arms, slowly pacing to and fro — " Had I, sir, entertained the smallest possible intention of addressing the House on the present occasion — hum,, on the present occasion — I would have endeavoured to prepare myself in a way that should have at least shown my sense of the greatness of the subject before the House's consideration, and the nature of the distinguished audience I have the honour to address. I am, sir, a plain man — bom of the people — myself one of the people, having won, thank Heaven, an honourable fortune and position by my own honest labour ; and standing here as I do " Here Mr. Scully (it may be said that he never made a speech without bragging about himself: and an excellent plan it is, for people cannot help believing you at last) — here, I say, Mr. Scully, who had one arm raised, felt himself suddenly tipped on the shoulder, and heard a voice saying, " Your money or your life ! " The honourable gentleman twirled round as if he had been shot ; the papers on which a great part of this impromptu was written dropped from his lifted hand, and some of them were actually borne on the air into neighbouring gardens. The man was, in fact, in the direst fright. " It's only I," said Perkins, with rather a forced laugh, when he saw the effect that his wit had produced. " Only you ! And pray what the dev what right have you to ^to come upon a man of my rank in that way, and disturb 6i4 THE BEDFOED-ROW CONSPIRACY me in the midst of very important meditations ? " asked Mr. Scully, beginning to grow fierce. " I want your advice," said Perkins, " on a matter of the very greatest importance to me. You know my idea of marrying ? " " Marry ! " said Scully ; " I thought you had given up that silly scheme. And how, pray, do you intend to live 1 " " Why, my intended has a couple of hundreds a year, and my clerkship in the Tape and Sealing-Wax Office will he as much more." "Clerkship — Tape and Sealing-Wax Office — Government sine- cure ! — Why, good heavens ! John Perkins, you don't tell me that you are going to accept any such thing?" "It is a very small salary, certainly," said John, who had a decent notion of his own merits ; " but consider, six months' vaca- tion, two hours in the day, and those spent over the newspapers. After all, it's " " After aU, it's a swindle,'' roared out Mr. Scully — " a swindle upon the country ; an infamous tax upon the people, who starve that you may fatten in idleness. But take this clerkship in the Tape and Sealing-Wax Office," continued the patriot, his bosom heaving with noble indignation, and his eye flashing the purest fire, — " Take this clerkship, John Perkins, and sanction tyranny, by becoming one of its agents ; sanction dishonesty by sharing in its plunder — do this, BUT never more be friend of mine. Had I a child," said the patriot, clasping his hands and raising his eyes to heaven, " I would rather see him dead, sir^ — dead, dead at my feet, than the servant of a Government which aU honest men despise." And here, giving a searching glance at Perkins, Mr. Scully began tramping up and down the garden in a perfect fury. " Good heavens ! " exclaimed the timid John Perkins — " don't say so. My dear Mr. Scully, I'm not the dishonest character you suppose me to be — I never looked at the matter in this light. I'll — I'll consider of It. I'll tell Orampton that I will give up the place ; but for Heaven's sake, don't let me forfeit your friendship, which is dearer to me than any place in the world." Mr. Scully pressed his hand, and said nothing ; and though their interview lasted a full half-hour longer, during which they paced up and down the gravel walk, we shaU not breathe a single syllable of their conversation, as it has nothing to do with our tale. The next morning, after an interview with Miss Lucy, John Perkins, Esquire, was seen to issue from Mrs. Biggs's house, looking particularly pale, melancholy, and thoughtful ; and he did not stop until he reached Bi certain doQr in Downing Street, whej-e was the THE BEDFORD-KOW CONSPIRACY 615 office of a certain great Minister, and the offices of. the clerks in his Lordship's department. The head of them was Mr. Josiah Crampton, who has now to be introduced to the public. He was a little old gentleman, some sixty years of age, maternal uncle to John Perkins ; a bachelor, who had been about forty-two years employed in the department of which he was now the head. After waiting four hours in an anteroom, where a number of Irishmen, some newspaper editors, many pompous-looking political personages asking for the " first lord," a few sauntering clerks, and numbers of swift active messengers passed to and fro ; — after waiting for four hours, making drawings on the blotting-book, and reading the Morning Post for that day week, Mr. Perkins was informed that he might go into his uncle's room, and did so accordingly. He found a little hard old gentleman seated at a table covered with every variety of sealing-wax, blotting-paper, envelopes, despatch- boxes, green tapers, &c. &c. An immense fu-e was blauzing in the grate, an immense sheet-almanack hung over that, a screen, three or four chairs, and a faded Turkey carpet, formed the rest of the furni- ture of this remarkable room — which I have described thus par- ticularly, because, in the course of a long official hfe, I have remarked that such is the invariable decoration of political rooms. "WeU, John," said the little hard old gentleman, pointing to an arm-chair, "I'm, told you've been here since eleven. Why the deuce do you come so early 1 " "I had important business," answered Mr. Perkins stoutly; and as his uncle looked up with a comical expression of wonder, John began in a solemn tone to deliver a little speech which he had composed, and which proved him to be a very worthy, easy, siUy fellow. " Sir," said Mr. Perkins, " you have known for some time past the nature of my political opinions, and the intimacy which I have had the honour to form with one — with some of the leading members of the Liberal party." (A grin from Mr. Crampton.) "When first, by your kindness, I was promised the clerkship in the Tape and Sealing- Wax Office, my opinions were not formed as they are now ; and having taken the advice of the gentlemen with whom I act " — (an enormous grin) — " the advice, I say, of the gentlemen with w;hom I act, and the counsel likewise of my own conscience, I am compelled, with the deepest grief, to say, my dear uncle, that I— I " " That you — what, sir 1 " exclaimed little Mr. Crampton, bounc- inf off his chair. " You don't mean to say that you are such a fppj as to decline the place ? " 6i6 THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY " I do decline the place," said Perkins, whose blood rose at the word "fool." "As a man of honour, I cannot take it." " Not take it ! and how are you to live ? On the rent of that house of yours ? For, by gad, sir, if you give up the clerkship, I never will give you a shilling." " It cannot be helped," said Mr. Perkins, looking as much like a martyr as he possibly could, and thinking himself a very fine fellow. " I have talents, sir, which I hope to cultivate ; and am member of a profession by which a man may hope to rise to the very highest offices of the State." " Profession, talents, offices of the State ! Are you mad, John Perkins, that you come to me with such insufferable twaddle as this f Why, do you think if you had been capable of rising at the bar, I would have taken so much trouble about getting you a place 1 No, sir ; you are too fond of pleasure, and bed, and tea-parties, and small-talk, and reading novels, and playing the flute, and writing sonnets. You would no more rise at the bar than my messenger, sir. It was because I knew your disposition — that hopeless, care- less, irresolute good-humour of yours — that I had determined to keep you out of danger, by placing you in a snug shelter, where the storms of the world would not come near you. You must have principles forsooth ! and you must marry Miss Gorgon, of course ; and by the time you have gone ten circuits, and had six children, you will have eaten up every shilling of your wife's fortune, and be as briefless as you are now. Who the deuce has put all this nonsense into your head 1 I think I know." Mr. Perkins's ears tingled as these hard words saluted them ; and he scarcely knew whether he ought to knock his uncle down, or fall at his feet and say, " Uncle, I have been a fool, and I know it." The fact is, that in his interview with Miss Gorgon and her aunt in the morning, when he came to tell them of the resolution he had formed to give up the place, both the ladies and John himself had agreed, with a thousand rapturous tears and exclamations, that he was one of the noblest young men that ever lived, had acted as became himself, and might with perfect propriety give up the place, his talents being so prodigious that no power on earth could hinder him from being Lord Chancellor. Indeed, John and Lucy had always thought the clerkship quite beneath him, and were not a little glad, perhaps, at finding a pretext for decently refusing it. But as Perkins was a young gentleman whose candour was such that he was always swayed by the opinions of the last speaker, he did begin to feel now the truth of his imcle's statements, however disagreeable they might be. Mr. Crampton continued : — THE BEDPORD-EOW CONSPIRACY 617 " I think I know the cause of your patriotism. Has not William Pitt Scully, Esquire, had something to do with it ? " Mr. Perkins ccnAd not turn any redder than he was, but con- fessed with deep humiliation that "he had consulted Mr. Scully among other friends." Mr. Crarapton smiled — drew a letter from a heap before him, and tearing off the signature, handed over the document to his nephew. It contained the following paragraphs : — " Hawksby has sounded Scully : we can have him any day we want him. He talks very big at present, and says he would not take anything under a . . . This is absurd. He has a Yorkshire nephew coming up to town, and wants a place for him. There is one vacant in the Tape Office, he says : have you not a promise of it ? " "I can't — I can't believe it," said John; "this, sir, is some weak invention of the enemy. Scully is the most honourable man breathing." "Mr. Scully is a gentleman in a very fair way to make a fortime," answered Mr. Crampton. "Look you, John — it is just as well for your sake that I should give you the news a few weeks before the papers, for I don't want you to be ruined, if I can help it, as I don't wish to have you on my hands. We know all the particulars of Scully's history. He was a Tory attorney at Old- borough ; he was jilted by the present Lady Gorgon, turned Radical, and fought Sir George in his own borough. Sir George would have had the peerage he is dying for, had he not lost that second seat (by-the-bye, my Lady will be here in five minutes), and Scully is now quite firm there. WeU, my dear lad, we have bought your incorruptible Scully. Look here," — and Mr. Crampton produced three Morning Posts. " ' The Honourable Henry Hawksby's Dinner-Party. — Lord So-and-So— Duke of So-and-So— W. Pitt ScuUy, Esq., M.P.' "Hawksby is our neutral, our dinner-giver. " ' Lady Diana Doldrum's Rout. — W. Pitt Scully, Esq.,' a^in. "'The Earl op Mantrap's Grand Dinner.' — A Duke — four Lords — 'Mr. Scully, and Sir George Gorgon.'" " WeU, but I don't see how you have bought him ; look at his votes." " My dear John," said Mr. Crampton, jingling his watch-seals very complacently, "I am letting you into fearful secrets. The great common end of party is to buy your opponents — the great statesman buys them for nothing." <3i8 THE iBEi:)F01it)-IlOW CONSPlEACY Here the attendant genius of Mr. Orampton made his appear- ance, and whispered something, to which the little gentleman said, " Show her Ladyship in," — when the attendant disappeared. "John," said Mr. Orampton, with a very queer smUe, "you can't stay in this room while Lady Gorgon is with me ; but there is a little clerk's' room behind the screen there, where you can wait imtil I call you." John retired, and as he closed the door of communication, strange to say, little Mr. Orampton sprang up and said, " Oonfound the young ninny, he has shut the door ! " Mr. Orampton then, remembering that he wanted a map in the next room, sprang into it, left the door half open in coming out, and was in time to receive her Ladyship with smiling fex;e as she, ushered by Mr. Strongitharm, majestically sailed in. CHAPTER III BEHIND THE SCENES IN issuing from and leaving open the door of the inner room, Mr. Crampton had bestowed upon Mr. Perkins a look so peculiarly arch, that even he, simple as he was, began to imagine that some mystery was about to be cleared up, or some mighty matter to be discussed. Presently he heard the well-known voice of Lady Gorgon in conversation with his uncle. What could their talk be about ? Mr. Perkins was dying to know, and — shall we say it ?— advanced to the door on tiptoe and listened with all his might. Her Ladyship, that Juno of a woman, if she had not borrowed Venus's girdle to render herself irresistible, at least had adopted a tender, coaxing, wheedling, frisky tone, quite different from her ordinary dignified style of conversation. She called Mr. Crampton a naughty man, for neglecting his old friends, vowed that Sir George was quite hurt at his not coming to dine — nor fixing a day when he would come — and added, with a most engaging ogle, that she had three fine girls at home, who would perhaps make an evening pass pleasantly, even to such a gay bachelor as Mr. Crampton. " Madam," said he, with much gravity, " the daughters of such a mother must be charming ; but I, who have seen your Ladyship, am, alas ! proof against even them." Both parties here heaved tremendous sighs and affected to be wonderfully unhappy about something. "I wish," after a pause, said Lady Gorgon — " I wish, dear Mr. Crampton, you would not use that odious title ' my Ladyship ' ; you know it always makes me melancholy." " Melancholy, my dear Lady Gorgon ; and why ? " " Because it makes me think of another title that ought to have been mine — ours (I speak for dear Sir George's and my darling boy's sake. Heaven knows, not mine). What a sad disappointment it has been to my husband, that after all his services, all the promises he has had, they have never given him his peerage. As for me, you know " " For you, my dear madam, I know quite well that you care for no such bauble as a coronet, except in so far as it may confer honour 620 THE BEDPORD-EOW CONSPIRACY upon those most dear to you — excellent wife and noble mother as you are. Heigho ! what a happy man is Sir George ! " Here there was another pause, and if Mr. Perkins could have seen what was taking place behind the screen, he would have beheld little Mr. Crampton looking into Lady Gorgon's face, with as love- sick a Romeo-gaze as he could possibly counterfeit ; while her Ladyship, blushing somewhat and turning her own grey gogglers up to heaven, received all his words for gospel, and sat fancying herself to be the best, most meritoripus, and most beautiful creature in the three kingdoms. "You men are terrible flatterers," continued she ; "but you say right : for myself I value not these empty distinctions. I am grow- ing old, Mr. Crampton, — yes, indeed, I am, although you smile so incredulously, — and let me add, that my thoughts are fixed upon higher things than earthly crowns. But tell me, you who are all in all with Lord Bagwig, are we never to have our peerage ? His Majesty, I know, is not averse ; the services of dear Sir George to a member of His Majesty's august family, I know, have been appreciated in the highest quarter. Ever since the peace we have had a promise. Pour hundred pounds has Sir George spent at the Heralds' Office (I myself am of one of the most ancient families in the kingdom, Mr. Crampton), and the poor dear man's health is really ruined by the anxious sickening feeling of hope so long delayed." Mr. Crampton now assumed an air of much solemnity. " My dear Lady Gorgon," said he, " will you let me be frank with you, and will you promise solemnly that what I am going to tell you shall never be repeated to a single soul 1 " Lady Gorgon promised. "Well, then, since the truth you must know, you yourselves have been in part the cause of the delay of which you complain. You gave us two votes five years ago : you now only give us one. If Sir George were to go up to the Peers, we should lose even that one vote ; and would it be common sense in us to incur such a loss 1 Mr. Scully, the Liberal, would return another Member of his own way of thinking; and as for the Lords, we have, you know, a majority there." ■"■Oh, that horrid man!" said Lady Gorgon, cursing Mr. Scully in her heart, and beginning to play a rapid tattoo with her feet, " that miscreant, that traitor, that — that attorney has been our ruin." " Horrid man, if you please, but give me leave to tell you that the horrid man is not the sole cause of your ruin — if ruin you will call it. I am sorry to say that I do candidly think Ministers believe that Sir George Gorgon has lost his influence in Oldborough as much through his own fault as through Mr. Scully's cleverness." THE BEDFOED-KOW CONSPIEACY 621 " Our own fault ! Good heavens ! Have we not done every- thing — everything that persons of our station in the county could do, to keep those misguided men? Have we not remonstrated, threatened, taken away our custom from the Mayor, established a Conservative apothecary — in fact, done all that gentlemen could do ? But these are such times, Mr. Crampton : the spirit of revolution is abroad, and the great families of England are menaced by democratic insolence." This was Sir George Gorgon's speech always after dinner, and was delivered by his lady with a great deal of stateliness. Some- what, pei;haps, to her annoyance, Mr. Crampton only smiled, shook his head, and said — "Nonsense, my dear Lady Gorgon — pardon the phrase, but I am a plain old man, and call things by their names. - Now, will you let me whisper in your ear one word of truth ? You have tried all sorts of remonstrances, and exerted yourself to maintain your in- fluence in every way, except the right one, and that is " " What, in Heaven's name 1 " " Conciliation. We know your situation in the borough. Mr. Scully's whole history, and, pardon me for saying so (but we men in office know everything), yours " Lady Gorgon's ears and cheeks now assumed the hottest hue of crimson. She thought of her former passages with ScuUy, and of the days when — ^but never mind when : for she suffered her veil to fall, and buried her head in the folds of her handkerchief Vain folds ! The wily little Mr. Crampton could see all that passed behind the cambric, and continued — " Yes, madam, we know the absurd hopes that were formed by a certain attorney twenty years since. We know how, up to this moment, he boasts of certain walks " " With the governess — we were always with the governess ! " shrieked out Lady Gorgon, clasping her hands. " She was not the wisest of women." "With the governess, of course," said Mr. Crampton firmly. "Do you suppose that any man dare breathe a syllable against your spotless reputation? Never, my dear madam ; but swhat I would urge is this — you have treated your disappointed admirer too cruelly." " What ! the traitor who has robbed us of our rights ? ". " He never would have robbed you of your rights if you had been more kind to him. You should be gentle, madam ; you should forgive him — you should be friends with him." "" With a traitor, never ! " " Think what made him a traitor, Lady Gorgon ; look in your 622 THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY glass, and say if there be not some excuse for him 1 Think of the feelings of the man who saw beauty such as yours — I am a plain man and must speak — virtue such as yours, in the possession of a rival. By heavens, madam, I think he was right to hate Sir George Gorgon! Would you have him allow such a prize to be ravished from him without a pang on his part 1 " "He was, I believe, very much attached to me,'' said Lady Gorgon, quite delighted ; " but you must be aware that a young man of his station in life could not look up to a person of my rank." " Surely not : it was monstrous pride and arrogance in Mr. Scully. But que voulez-vous ? Such is the world's way. Scully could not help loving you — who that knows you can? I am a plain man, and say what I think. He loves you still. Why make an enemy of him, who would at a word be at your feet ? Dearest Lady Gorgon, listen to me. Sir George Gorgon and Mr. Scully have already met — their meeting was our contrivance. It is for our interest, for yours, that they should be friends. If there were two Ministerial Members for Oldborough, do you think your hus- band's peerage would be less secure ? I am not at liberty to tell you all I know on this subject ; but do, I entreat you, be reconciled to him." And after a little more conversation, which was carried on by Mr. Crampton in the same tender way, this important interview closed, and Lady Gorgon, folding her shawl round her, threaded certain mysterious passages and found her way to her carriage in Whitehall. " I hope you have not been listening, you rogue ? " said Mr. Crampton to his nephew, who blushed most absurdly by way of answer. " You would have heard great State secrets, if you had dared to do so. That woman is perpetually here, and if peerages are to be had for the asking, she ought to have been a duchess by this time. I would not have admitted her but for a reason that I have. Go you now and ponder upon what you have heard and seen. Be on good terms with Scully, and, above aU, speak not a word con- cerning our interview — no, not a word even to your mistress. By the way, I presume, sir, you will recall your resignation 1 " The bewildered Perkins was about to stammer out a speech, when his uncle, cutting it short, pushed him gently out of the door. At the period when the important events occurred which have been recorded here, parties ran very high, and a mighty struggle for the vacant Speakership was about to come on. "The Right Honourable Robert Pincher was the Ministerial candidate, and Sir Charles Macabaw was patronised by the Opposition. The two THE BEDFORD-EOW CONSPIRACY 623 Members for Oldborough of course took diiferent sides, the baronet being of the Pincher faction, while Mr. William Pitt Scully strongly supported the Macabaw party. It was Mr. Scully's intention to deliver an impromptu speech upon the occasion of the election, and he and his faithful Perkins prepared it between them : for the latter gentleman had wisely kept his uncle's counsel and his own, and Mr. Scully was quite ignorant of the conspiracy that was brooding. Indeed, so artfully had that young Machiavel of a Perkins conducted himself, that when asked by his patron whether he had given up his place in the Tape and SeaJing-Wax Office, he replied that " he had tendered his resigna^ tion," but did not say one word about having recalled it. " You were light, my boy, quite right," said Mr. ScuUy. " A man of uncompromising principles should make no compromise." And herewith he sat down and wrote off a couple of letters, one to Mr. Hawksby, teUing him that the place in the Sealing-Wax Office was, as he had reason to know, vacant ; and the other to his nephew, stating that it was to be his. " Under the rose, my dear Bob," added Mr. Scully, " it wiU cost you five hundred pounds ; but you cannot invest your money better." It is needless to state that the affair was to be conducted " with the strictest secrecy and honour," and that the money was to pass through Mr. ScuUy's hands. While, however, the great Pincher and Macabaw question was yet undecided, an event occurred to Mr. Scully, which had a great influence upon his after-life. A second grand banquet was given at the Earl of Mantrap's : Lady Mantrap requested him to conduct Lady Gorgon to dinner ; and the latter, with a charming timidity, and a gracious melancholy look into his face (after which her veined eyelids veiled her azure eyes), put her hand into the trembling one of Mr. Scully and said, as much as looks could say, " Eorgive and forget." Down went Scully to dinner. There were dukes on his right hand and earls on his left ; there were but two persons without title in the midst of that glittering assemblage ; the very servants looked like noblemen. The cook had done wonders ; the wines were cool and rich, and Lady Gorgon was splendid ! What attention did everybody pay to her and to him ! Why would she go on gazing into his face with that tender imploring look? In other words, Scully, after partaking of soup and fish (he, during their discus- sion, had been thinking over all the former love-and-hate passages between himself and Lady Gorgon), turned very red, and began talking to her. "Were you not at the opera on Tuesday?" began he, assuming 624 THE BEDFOKD-ROW CONSPIRACY at once the airs of a man of fashion. " I thought I caught a glimpse of you in the Duchess of Diddlebury's box." "Opera, Mr. Scully 1" (pronouncing the word "Scully" with the utmost softness). " Ah, no ! we seldom go, and yet too often. For serious persons the enchantments of that place are too dangerous. I am so nervous — so delicate ; the smallest trifle so agitates, de- presses, or irritates me, that I dare not yield myself up to the excitement of music. I am too passionately attached to it ; and, shall I tell you 1 it has such a strange influence upon me, that the smallest false note almost drives me to distraction, and for that very reason I hardly ever go to a concert or a ball." "Egad," thought Scully, "I recollect when she would dance down a matter of five-and-forty couple, and jingle away at the ' Battle of Prague ' all day." She continued: "Don't you recollect, I do, with — oh, what regret ! — that day at Oldborough race-ball, when I behaved with such sad rudeness to you 1 You will scarcely believe me, and yet I assure you 'tis the fact, the music had made me almost mad. Do let me ask your pardon for my conduct. I was not myself. Oh, Mr. Scully ! I am no worldly woman ; I know my duties, and I feel my wrongs. Nights and days have I lain awake weeping and thinking of that unhappy day — that I should ever speak so to an old Mend ; for we were old friends, were we not 1 " ScuUy did not speak ; but his eyes were bursting out of his head, and his face was the exact colour of a deputy-lieutenant's uniform. " That I should ever forget myself and you so ! How I have been longing for this opportunity to ask you to forgive me ! I asked Lady Mantrap, when I heard you were to be here, to invite me to her party. Come, I know you wUl forgive me — your eyes say you will. You used to look so in old days, and forgive me my caprices then. Do give me a little wine — we wiU drink to the memory of old days." ■ Her eyes filled with tears ; and poor Scully's hand caused such a rattUng and trembling of the glass and the decanter that the Duke of Doldrum — who had been, during the course of this whispered sentimentality, describing a famous run with the Queen's hounds at the top of his voice — stopped at the jingling of the glass, and his tale was lost for ever. Scully hastily drank his wine, and Lady Gorgon turned round to her next neighbour, a little gentleman in black, between whom and herself certain conscious looks passed. " I am glad poor Sir George is not here," said he, smiling. Lady Gorgon said, " Pooh, for shame ! " The little gentleman was no other than Josiah Orampton, Esquire, that eminent financier, THE BEDFOED-ROW CONSPIRACY 625 aad he was now going through the curious calculation before men- tioned, by which you buy a man for nothing. He intended to pay the very same price for Sir George Gorgon, too ; but there was no need to tell the baronet so ; only of this the reader must be made aware. While Mr. Crampton was conducting this intrigue, which was to bring a new recruit to the Ministerial ranks, his mighty spirit condescended to ponder upon subjects of infinitely less importance, and to arrange plans for the welfare of his nephew and the young woman to whom he had made a present of his heart. These young persons, as we said before, had arranged to live in Mr. Perkins's own house in Bedford Row. It was of a peculiar construction, and might more properly be called a house and a half: for a snug little tenement of four chambers protruded from the back of the house into the garden. These rooms communicated with the drawing- rooms occupied by Mr. Scully ; and Perkins, who acted as his friend and secretary, used frequently to sit in the one nearest the Member's study, in order that he might be close at hand to confer with that great man. The rooms had a private entrance too, were newly decorated, and in them the young couple proposed to live; the kitchen and garrets being theirs likewise. What more could they need ? We are obliged to be particular in describing these apart- ments, for extraordinary events occurred therein. To say the truth, until the present period Mr. Crampton had taken no great interest in his nephew's marriage, or, indeed, in the young man himself The old gentleman was of a saturnine turn, and inchned to undervalue the qualities of Mr. Perkins, which were idleness, simplicity, enthusiasm, and easy good-nature. " Such fellows never do anything in the world," he would say, and for such he had accordingly the most profound contempt. But when, after John Perkins's repeated entreaties, he had been induced to make the acquaintance of Miss Gorgon, he became instantly charmed with her, and warmly espoused her cause against her over- bearing relations. At his suggestion she wrote back to decline Sir George Gorgon's peremptory invitation, and hinted at the same time that she had attained an age and a position which enabled her to be the mistress of her own actions. To this letter there came an answer from Lady Gorgon which we shall not copy, but which simply stated that Miss Lucy Gorgon's conduct was unchristian, ungrateful, unladylike, and immodest ; that the Gorgon family disowned her for the future, and left her at liberty to form whatever base connections she pleased. " A pretty world this ! " said Mr. Crampton, in a great rage, when the letter was shown to him. "This same fellow, Scully, 626 THE BEDFORD-KOW CONSPIRACY dissuades my nephew from taking a place, because Scully wants it for himself. This prude of a Lady Gorgon cries out shame, and disowns an innocent amiable girl : she a heartless jilt herself once, and a heartless flirt now. The Pharisees, the Pharisees ! And to call mine a base family, too ! " Now, Lady Gorgon did not in the least know Mr. Crampton's connection with Mr. Perkins, or she would have been much more guarded in her language ; but whether she knew it or not, the old gentleman felt a huge indignation, and determined to hare his revenge. " That's right, uncle ! Shall I call Gorgon out ? " said the impetuous young Perkins, who was all for blood. " John, you are a fool," said his uncle. " You shall have a better revenge : you shall be married from Sir George Gorgon's house, and you shall see Mr. William Pitt ScuUy sold for nothing." This to the veteran diplomatist seemed to be the highest triumph which man could possibly enjoy. It was very soon to take place : and, as has been the case ever since the world iegan, woman, lovely woman was to be the cause of Scully's fall. "The tender scene at Lord Mantrap's was followed by many others equally sentimental. Sir George Gorgon called upon his colleague the very next day, and brought with him a card from Lady Gorgon inviting Mr. Scully to dinner. The attorney eagerly accepted the invitation, was received in Baker Street by the whole amiable family with much respectful cordiality, and was pressed to repeat his visits as country neighbours should. More than once did he call, and somehow always at the hour when Sir George was away at his club, or riding in the Park, or elsewhere engaged. Sir George Gorgon was very old, very feeble, very much shattered in constitution. Lady Gorgon used to impart her fears to Mr. Scully every time he called there, and the sympathising attorney used to console her as best he might. Sir George's country agent neglected the property — his lady consulted Mr. Scully concerning it. He knew to a fraction how large her jointure was ; how she was to liave Gorgon Castle for her life ; and how, in the event of the young baronet's death (he, too, was a sickly poor boy), the chief part of the estates, bought by her money, would be at her absolute disposal. " What a pity these odious politics prevent me from having you for our agent ! " woiUd Lady Gorgon say ; and indeed Scully thought it was a pity too. Ambitious Scully ! what wild notions filled his brain. He used to take leave of Lady Gorgon and ruminate upon these things ; and when he was gone. Sir George and her Ladyship used to laugh. " If we can but commit him — if we can but make him vote for THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY 627 Pineher," said the General, " my peerage is secure. Hawksby and Crampton as good as told me so." The point had been urged upon Mr. Scully repeatedly and adroitly. "Is not Pineher a more experienced man than Macabawr' would Sir George say to his guest over their wine. Scully allowed it. " Can't you vote for him on personal grounds, and say so in the House 1 " Scully wished he could — how he wished he could ! Every time the General coughed, Scully saw his friend's desperate situation more and more, and thought how pleasant it would be to be lord of Grorgon Castle. " Knowing my property," cried Sir George, " as you do, and with your talents and integrity, what a comfort it would be could I leave you as guardian to my boy ! But these cursed politics prevent it, my dear fellow. Why will you be a Radical ? " And Scully cursed politics too. " Hang the low-bred rogue," added Sir George, when William Pitt Scully left the house : " he will do every- thing but promise." " My dear General," said Lady Gorgon, sidling up to him and patting him on his old yeUow cheek — " My dear Georgy, tell me one thing, — are you jealous ? " a " Jealous, my dear ! and jealous of that fello-s^pshaw ! " "WeU, then, give me leave, and you shall have the promise to-morrow." To-morrow arrived. It was a remarkably fine day, and in the forenoon Mr. Perkins gave his accustomed knock at ScuUy'a study, which was only separated from his own sitting-room by a double door. John had wisely followed his uncle's advice, and was on the best terms with the honourable Member. " Here are a few sentences," said he, " which I think may suit your purpose. Great public services — undeniable merit — years of integrity — cause of Reform, and Macabaw for ever ! " He put down the paper. It was, in fact, a speech in favour of Mr. Macabaw. "Hush," said Scully, rather surlily; for he was thinking how disagreeable it was to support Macabaw; and besides, there were clerks in the room, whom the thoughtless Perkins had not at first perceived. As soon as that gentleman saw them, " You are busy, I see," continued he in a lower tone. " I came to say that I must be off duty to-day, for I am engaged to take a walk with some ladies of my acquaintance." So saying, the light-hearted young man placed his hat uncere- moniously on his head, and went off through his own door, humming a song. He was in such high spirits that he did not even think of closing the doors of communication, and Scully looked after him with a sneer. 628 THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY " Ladies, forsooth ! " thought he ; "I know who they are. This precious girl that he is fooling with, for one, I suppose." He was right : PerEins was off on the wings of love, to see Miss Lucy ; and she and Aunt Biggs and Uncle Crampton had promised this very day to come and look at the apartments which Mrs. John Perkins was to occupy with her happy husband. " Poor devil ! " so continued Mr. Scully's meditations, "it is almost too bad to do him out of his place ; but my Bob wants it, and John's girl has, I hear, seven thousand pounds. His imcle wiU get him another place before all that money is spent." And here- with Mr. Scully began conning the speech which Perkins had made for him. He had not read it more than six times, — in truth, he was getting it by heart, — when his head clerk came to him from the front room, bearing a card : a footman had brought it, who said his lady was waiting below. Lady Gorgon's name was on the card ! To seize his hat and rush downstairs was, with Mr. Scully, the work of an infinitesimal portion of time. It was indeed Lady Gorgon in her Gorgonian chariot. "Mr. Scully," said she, popping her head out of window and smiUng in a most engaging way, " I want to speak to you on something very particular indeed " — and she held him out her hand. Scully pressed it most tenderly : he hoped- all heads in Bedford Row were at the windows to see him. " I can't ask you into the carriage, for you see the governess is with me, and I want to talk secrets to you." " Shall I go and make a little promenade ? " said mademoiselle innocently. And her mistress hated her for that speech. " No. Mr. Scully, I am sure, will let me come in for five minutes ? " Mr. Scully was only too happy. My Lady descended and walked upstairs, leaning on the happy solicitor's arm. But how should he manage? The front room was consecrated to clerks; there were clerks too, as ill-luck would have it, in his private room. " Perkins is out for the day," thought Scully ; " I will take her into his room." And into Perkins's room he took her — ay, and he shut the double doors after him too, and trembled as he thought of his own happiness. "What a charming little study!" said Lady Gorgon, seating herself And indeed it was very pretty : for Perkins had furnished it beautifully, and laid out a neat tray with cakes, a cold fowl, and sherry, to entertain his party withal. "And do you bachelors alwaj-s live so well ? " continued she, pointing to the little cold collation. Mr. Scully looked rather blank when he saw it, and a dreadful THE BEDFOED-EOW OONSPIEACY 629 suspicion crossed his soul ; but there was no need to trouble Lady Gorgon with explanations: therefore, at once, and with much presence of mind, he asked her to partake of his bachelor's fare (she would refuse Mr. Scully nothing that day). A pretty sight would it have been for young Perkins to see strangers so unceremoniously devouring his feast. She drank — Mr. Scully drank — and so em- boldened was he by the draught that he actually seated himself by the side of Lady Gorgon on John Perkins's new sofa. Her Ladyship had of course something to say to him. She was a pious woman, and had suddenly conceived a violent wish for building a chapel-of-ease at Oldborough, to which she entreated him to subscribe. She enlarged upon the benefits that the town would derive from it, spoke of Sunday-schools, sweet spiritual instruction, and the duty of all well-minded persons to give aid to the scheme. " I will subscribe a hundred pounds," said Scully, at the end of her Ladyship's harangue : " would I not do anything for you 1 " . " Thank you, thank you, dear Mr. Scully," said the enthusiastic woman. (How the " dear " went burning through his soul !) "Ah ! " added she, " if you would but do anything for me — if you, who are so eminently, so truly distinguished, in a religious point of view, would but see the truth in politics too; and if I could see your name among those of the true patriot party in this empire, how blest — oh ! how blest should I be ! Poor Sir George often says he should go to his grave happy, could he but see you the guardian of his boy ; and I, your old friend (for we were friends, WiUiam), how have I wept to think of you as one of those who are bringing our monarchy to ruin. Do, do promise me this too ! " And she took his hand and pressed it between hers. The heart of William Pitt Scully, during this speech, was thump- ing up and down with a frightful velocity and strength. His old love, the agency of the Gorgon property — the dear widow — five thousand a year clear — a, thousand delicious hopes rushed madly through his brain, and almost took away his reason. And there she sat — she, the loved one, pressing his hand and looking softly into his eyes. Down, down he plumped on his knees. " Juliana ! " shrieked he, " don't take away your hand ! My love — my only love ! — speak but those blessed words again ! Call me William once more, and do with me what you will." Juliana cast down her eyes and said, in the very smallest type — " William 1" — when the door opened, and in walked Mr. Crampton, leading Mrs. Biggs, who could hardly contain herself for laughing, and Mr. John 630 THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY Perkins, who was squeezing the arm of Miss Lucy. They had heard every word of the two last speeches. For at the very moment when Lady Gorgon had stopped at Mr. Scully's door, the four above-named individuals had issued from Great James Street into Bedford Row. Lucy cried out that it was her aunt's carriage, and they all saw Mr. Scully come out, bareheaded, in the sunshine, and my Lady descend, and the pair go into the house. They meanwhile entered by Mr. Perkins's own private door, and had been occupied in ex- amining the dehghtful rooms on the ground floor, which were to be his dining-room and Hbrary — from which they ascended a stair to visit the other two rooms, which were to form Mrs. John Perkins's drawing-room and bedroom. Now whether it was that they trod softly, or that the stairs were covered with a grand new carpet and drugget, as was the case, or that the party within were too much occupied in themselves to heed any outward disturbances, I know not ; but Lucy, who was advancing with John (he was saying some- thing about one of the apartments, the rogue !)• — Lucy suddenly started and whispered, " There is somebody in the rooms ! " and at that instant began the speech already reported, " Thank you, thank you, dear Mr. Scidly," &c. &c., which was delivered by Lady Gorgon in a full clear voice ; for, to do her Ladyship justice, she had not one single grain of love for Mr. ScuUy, and, during the delivery of her little oration, was as cool as the coolest cucumber. Then began the impassioned rejoinder, to which the four listened on the landing-place ; and then the little " William," as narrated above : at which juncture Mr. Crampton thought proper to rattle at the door, and, after a brief pause, to enter with his party. " William " had had time to bounce off his knees, and was on a chair at the other end of the room. " What, Lady Gorgon ! " said Mr. Crampton, with excellent surprise,, " how delighted I am to see you ! Always, I see, employed in works of charity " (the chapel-of-ease paper was on her knees), "and on such an occasion, too, — it is really the most won- derful coincidence ! My dear madam, here is a silly feUow, a nephew of mine, who is going to marry a silly girl, a niece of your own." " Sir, I " began Lady Gorgon, rising. "They heard every word," whispered Mr. Crampton eagerly. "Come forward, Mr. Perkins, and show yourself" Mr. Perkins made a genteel bow. " Miss Lucy, please to shake hands with your aunt ; and this, my dear, madam, is Mrs. Biggs of Mecklenburgh Square, who, if she were not too old, might marry a gentleman in the Treasury, who is your very humble servant." And with this THE BEDFORD-HOW CONSPIRACY ^31 gallant speech, old Mr. Crampton began helping everybody to sherry and cake. As for William Pitt Scully, he had disappeared, evaporated, in the most absurd sneaking way imaginable. Lady Gorgon made good her retreat presently, with much dignity, her countenance undismayed, and her face turned resolutely to the foe. About five days afterwards, that memorable contest took place in the House of Commons, in which the partisans of Mr. Macabaw were so very nearly getting him the Speakership. On the day that the report of the debate appeared in the Times, there appeared also an announcement in the Gazette as follows : — " The King has been pleased to appoint John Perkins, Esquire, to he Deputy-Subcomptroller of His Majesty's Tape Office and Custos of the Sealing-Wax Department." Mr. Crampton showed this to his nephew with great glee, and was chuckling to think how Mr. William Pitt Scully would be annoyed, who had expected the place, when Perkins burst out laugh- ing and said, " By ieavens, here is my own speech ! Scully has spoken every word of it ; he has only put in Mr. Pincher's name in th« place of Mr. Macabaw's." "He is ours now," responded his uncle, "and I told you we would have him for nothing. I told you, too, that you should be married from Sir George Gorgon's, and here is proof of it." It was a letter from Lady Gorgon, in which she said that, " had she known Mr. Perkins to be a nephew of her friend Mr. Crampton, she never for a moment would have opposed Ms marriage with her niece, and she had written that morning to her dear Lucy, begging that the marriage breakfast should take place in Baker Street." "It shall be in Mecklenburgh Square," said John Perkins stoutly ; and in Mecklenburgh Square it was. William Pitt Scully, Esquire, was, as Mr. Crampton said, hugely annoyed at the loss of the place for his nephew. He had still, however, his hopes to look forward to, but these were unluckily dashed by the coming in of the Whigs. As for Sir George Gorgon, when he came to ask about his peerage, Hawksby told him that they could not afford to lose him in the Commons, for a Liberal Member would infallibly fill his place. And now that the Tories are out and the Whigs are in, strange 632 THE BEDFORD-HOW CONSPIRACY to say a Liberal does fill his place. This Liberal is no other than Sir George Gorgon himself, who is still longing to be a lord, and his lady is stiU devout and intriguing. So that the Members for Oldborough have changed sides, and taunt each other with apostasy, and hate each other cordially. Mr. Crampton still chuckles over the manner in which he tricked them both, and talks of those five minutes during which he stood on the landing-place, and hatched and executed his " Bedford-Row Conspiracy." GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED July 1840 , who had voted with Mr. Ewart for the abolition of the punishment of death, was anxious to see the effect on the public mind of an execution, and asked me to accompany him to see Courvoisier killed. We had not the advantage of a sheriff's order, like the " six hundred noblemen and gentlemen " who were admitted within the walls of the prison ; but determined to mingle with the crowd at the foot of the scaffold, and take up our positions at a very early hour. As I was to rise at three in the morning, I went to bed at ten, thinking that five hours' sleep would be amply sufficient to brace me against the fatigues of the coming day. But, as might have been expected, the event of the morrow was perpetually before my eyes through the night, and kept them wide open. I heard all the clocks in the neighbourhood chime the hours in succession ; a dog from some coiu:t hard by kept up a pitiful howling ; at one o'clock, a cock set up a feeble melancholy crowing ; shortly after two the daylight came peeping grey through the window-shutters ; and by the time that X arrived, in fulfilment of his promise, I had been asleep about half-an-hour. He, more wise, had not gone to rest at all, but had remained up all night at the Club along with Dash and two or three more. Dash is one of the most eminent wits in London, and had kept the company merry all night with appropriate jokes about the coming event. It is curious that a murder is a great inspirer of jokes. We all like to laugh and have our fling about it; there is a certain grim pleasure in the circum' stance — a perpetual jingling antithesis between life and death, that is sure of its effect. In mansion or garret, on down or straw, surrounded by weeping fiiends and solemn oily doctors, or tossing unheeded upon scanty hospital beds, there were many people in this great city to whom that Sunday night was to be the last of any that they should pasg 636 GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED on earth here. In the course of half-a-dozen dark wakeful hours, one had leisure to think of these (and a little, too, of that certain supreme night, that shall come at one time or other, when he who writes shall be stretched upon the last bed, prostrate in the last struggle, taking the last look of dear faces that have cheered us here, and lingering — one moment more — ere we part for the tremendous journey) ; but, chiefly, I could not help thinking, as each clock sounded, what is he doing now ? has he heard it in his little room in Newgate yonder? Eleven o'clock. He has been writing until now. The gaoler says he is a pleasant man enough to be with ; but he can hold out no longer, and is very weary. " Wake me at four," says he, " for I have still much to put down." From eleven to twelve the gaoler hears how he is grinding his teeth in his sleep. At twelve he is up in his bed and asks, "Is it the time?" He has plenty more time yet for sleep; and he sleeps, and the bell goes on tolling. Seven hours more — ^five hours more. Many a carriage is clattering through the streets, bringing ladies away from evening parties ; many bachelors are reeling home after a jolly night ; Covent Garden is alive ; and the light coming through the cell-window turns the gaoler's candle pale. Four hours more ! " Oourvoisier," says the gaoler, shaking him, " it's four o'clock now, and I've woke you as you told me; but there's no call for you to get wp yet." The poor wretch leaves his bed, how- ever, and makes his last toilet; and then falls to writing, to tell the world how he did the crime for which he has suffered. This time he will tell the truth and the whole truth. They bring him his breakfast "from the coffee-shop opposite — tea, coffee, and thin bread and butter." He will take nothing, however, but goes on writing; He has to write to his mother — the pious mother far away in his own country — who reared him and loved him; and even now has sent him her forgiveness and her blessing. He finishes his memorials and letters, and makes his will, disposing of his little miserable property of books and tracts that pious people have furnished him with. "Ce 6 Juillet 1840. Frangois Benjamin Oourvoisier vous donne ceci, mon ami, pour souvenir." He has a token for his dear friend the gaoler; another for his dear friend the under-sheriff. As the day of the convict's death draws nigh, it is painful to see how he fastens upon everybody who approaches him, how pitifully he clings to them and loves them. While these things are going on within the prison (with which we are made accurately acquainted by the copious chronicles of such events which are published subsequently), X 's carriage has driven up to the door of my lodgings, and we have partaken GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED ^37 of an elegant dejeuner that has been prepared for the occasion. A cup of coffee at half-past three in the morning is uncommonly pleasant ; and X enlivens us with the repetition of the jokes that Dash has just been making. Admirable, certainly — they must have had a merry night of it, that's clear ; and we stoutly debate whether, when one has to get up so early in the morning, it is best to have an hour or two of sleep, or wait and go to bed afterwards at the end of the day's work. That fowl is extraordinarily tough — the wing, even, is as hard as a board ; a slight disappointment, for there is nothing else for breakfast. "Will any gentleman have some sherry and soda^-water before he sets out ? It clears the brains famously." Thus primed, the party sets out. The coachman has dropped asleep on the box, and wakes up wildly as the hall-door opens. It is just four o'clock. About this very time they are waking up poor — pshaw! who is for a cigar? X does not smoke himself; but vows and protests, in the kindest way in the world, that he does not care in the least for the new drab-silk Unings in his carriage. Z , who smokes, mounts, however, the box. " Drive to Snow HUl," says the owner of the chariot. The policemen, who are the only people in the street, and are standing by, look knowing — they know what it means well enough. How cool and clean the streets look, as the carriage startles the echoes that have been asleep in the corners all night. Somebody has 'been sweeping the pavements clean in the night-time surely ; they would not soil a lady's white sa;tin shoes, they are so dry and neat. There is not a cloud or a breath in the air, except Z 's cigar, which whiffs off, and soars straight upwards in volumes of white pure smoke. The trees in the squares look bright and green — as bright as leaves in the country in June. We who keep late hours don't know the beauty of London air and verdure; in the early morning they are delightful — the most fresh and lively com- panions possible. But they cannot bear the crowd and the bustle of mid-day. You don't know them then — they are no longer the same things. We have come to Gray's Inn ; there is actually dew upon the grass in the gardens ; and the windows of the stout old red houses are aU ui a flame. As we enter Holborn the town grows more animated ; and there are already twice as many people in the streets as you see at mid- day in a German Residenz or an English provincial town. The ginShop keepers have many of them taken their shutters down, and many persons are issuing from them pipe in hand. Down they go along the broad bright street, their blue shadows marching after them ; for they are all bound the same way, and are bent like us upon seeing the hanging.' 638 GOIN'G TO SEE A MAN HANGED It is twenty minutes past four as we pass St. Sepulchre's : by this time many hundred people are in the street, and many more are coming up Snow Hill. Before us lies Newgate Prison; but something a great deal more awful to look at, which seizes the eye at once, and makes the heart beat, is There it stands black and ready, jutting out from a little door in the prison. As you see it, you feel a kind of dumb electric shock, which causes one to start a little, and give a sort of gasp for breath. The shock is over in a second ; and presently you examine the object before you with a certain feeling of complacent curiosity. At least, such was the effect that the gallows produced upon the writer, who is trying to set down aU his feelings as they occurred, and not to exaggerate them at all. After the gallows-shock had subsided, we went down into the crowd, which was very numerous, but not dense as yet. It was evident that the day's business had not begun. People sauntered up, and formed groups, and talked ; the new-comers asking those who seemed habitvJs of the place about former executions ; and did the victim hang with his face towards the clock or towards Ludgate Hill? and had he the rope round his neck when he came on the scaffold, or was it put on by Jack Ketch afterwards 1 and had Lord W taken a window, and which was he ? I may mention the noble Marquis's name, as he was not at the exhibition. A pseudo W was pointed out in an opposite window, towards whom all the people in our neighbourhood looked eagerly, and with great respect too. The mob ^emed to have no sort of ill-will against him, but sympathy and admiration. This noble lord's personal courage and strength have won the plebs over to him. Perhaps his exploits against policemen have occasioned some of this popularity ; for the mob hate them, as children the schoolmaster. Throughout the whole foiu- hours^ however, the mob was extra- ordinarily gentle and good-humoured. At first we had leisure to aOiNG TO SEE A MAN HANGED 639 talk to the people about us ; and I recommend X 's brother senators of both sides of the House to see more pf this same people and to appreciate them better. Honourable Members are battling and struggling in the House ; shouting, yeUing, crowing, hear-hear- mg, pooh-poohing, making speeches of three columns, and gaining " great Conservative triumphs," or " signal successes of the Eeform cause," as the case may be. Three hundred and ten gentlemen of good fortune, and able for the most part to quote Horace, declare solemnly that unless Sir Kobert comes in, the nation is ruined. Three hundred and fifteen on the other side swear by their great gods that the safety of the empire depends upon Lord John ; and to this end they quote Horace too. I declare that I have never been in a great London crowd without thinking of what they call the two "great" parties in England with wonder. For which of the two great leaders do these people care, I pray you^ When Lord Stanley withdrew his Irish Bill the other night, were they in transports of joy, like worthy persons who read the Globe and the Chronicle ? or when he beat the Ministers, were they wild with delight, like honest gentlemen who read the Post and the Times 1 Ask yonder ragged fellow, who has evidently frequented debating- clubs, and speaks with good sense and shrewd good-nature. He cares no more for Lord John than he does for Sir Robert; and, with due respect be it said, would mind very little if both of them were ushered out by Mr. Ketch, and took their places under yonder black beam. What are the two great parties to him, and those like him? Sheer wind, hollow humbug, absurd claptraps; a silly mummery of dividing and debating, which does not in the least, however it may turn, affect his condition. It has been so ever since the happy days when Whigs and Tories began ; and a pretty pastime no doubt it is for both. August parties, great balances of British freedom : are not the two sides quite as active, and eager, and loud, as at their very birth, and ready to fight for place as stoutly as ever they fought before % But lo ! in the meantime, whilst you are jangling and brawling over the accounts, Populus, whose estate you have administered while he was an infant, and could not take care of himself — Populus has been growing and growing, till he is every bit as wise as his guardians. Talk to our ragged friend. He is not so polished, perhaps, as a member of the " Oxford and Cambridge Club ; " he has not been to Eton ; and never read Horace in his life ; but he can think just as soundly as the best of you; he can speak quite as strongly in his own rough way • he has been reading all sorts of books of late years, and gathered together no little information. He is as good a man as the common run of us ; and there are ten million more men in the 640 GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED country, as good as he — ten million, for whom we, in our infinite superiority, are acting as guardians, and to whom, in our bounty, we give — exactly nothing. Put yourself in their position, worthy sir. You and a hundred others find yourselves in some lone place, where you set up a government. You take a chief, as is natural; he is the cheapest order-keeper in the world. You establish half-a- dozen worthies, whose families you say shall have the privilege to legislate for you for ever ; half-ardozen more, who shall be appointed by a choice of thirty of the rest : and the other sixty, who shall have no choice, vote, place, or privilege at all. Honourable sir, suppose that you are one of the last sixty : how will you feel, you who have intelligence, passions, honest pride, as well as your neighbour ; how will you feel towards your equals, in whose hands lie all the power and all the property of the community 1 Would you love and honour them, tamely acquiesce in their superiority, see their privileges, and go yourself disregarded without a pang? you are not a man if you would. I am not talking of right or wrong, or debating questions of government. But ask my fiiend there, with the ragged elbows and no shirt, what he thinks 1 You have your party. Conservative or Whig, as it may be. You believe that an aristocracy is an institution necessary, beautiful, and virtuous. You are a gentleman, in other words, and stick by your party. And our friend with the elbows (the crowd is thickening hugely all this time) sticks by Ms. Talk to him of Whig or Tory, he grins at them : of virtual representation, pish ! He is a democrat, and wiU stand by his Mends, as you by yours ; and they are twenty millions, his Mends, of whom a vast minority now, a majority a few years hence, will be as good as you. In the meantime we shall continue electing, and debating, and dividing, and having every day new triumphs for the glorious cause of Conservatism, or the glorious cause of Eeform, until What is the meaning of this unconscionable republican tirade — a propos of a hanging? Such feeUngs, I think, must come across any man in a vast multitude like this. What good sense and intelligence have most of the people by whom you are sur^ rounded; how much sound humour does one hear bandied about from one to another ! A great number of coarse phrases are used, that would make ladies in drawing-rooms blush; but the morals of the men are good and hearty. A ragamuffin in the crowd (a powdery baker in a white sheep's-wool cap) uses some indecent expression to a woman near : there is an instant cry of shame, which silences the man, and a dozen people are ready to give GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED 641 the woman protection. The crowd has grown very dense by this time, it is about six o'clock, and there is great heaving, and pushing, and swaying to and fro ; but round the women the men have formed a circle, and keep them as much as possible out of the rush, and trample. In one of the houses, near us, a gallery has been formed on the roof. Seats were here let, and a number of persons of various degrees were occupying them. Several tipsy dissolute-looking young men, of the Dick Swiveller cast, were in this gallery. One was lolling over the sunshiny tiles, with a fierce sodden face, out of which came a pipe, and which was shaded by long matted hair, and a hat cocked very much on one side. This gentleman was one of a party which had evidently not been to bed on Sunday night, but had passed it in some of these delectable night-houses in the neighbour- hood of Covent Garden. The debauch was not over yet, and the women of the party were giggling, drinking, and romping, as is the wont of these delicate creatures ; sprawling here and there, and falling upon the knees of one or other of the males. Their scarves were off their shoulders, and you saw the sun shining down upon the bare white flesh, and the shoulder-points glittering like burning- glasses. The people about us were very indignant at some of the proceedings of this debauched crew, and at last raised up Such a yell as frightened them into shame, and they were more orderly for the remainder of the day. The windows of the shops opposite began to fill apace, and our before-mentioned friend with ragged elbows pointed out a celebrated fashionable character who occupied one of them ; and, to our surprise, knew as much about him as the Court Jovmal or the Morning Post. Presently he entertained us with a long and pretty accurate account of the history of Lady , and indulged in a judicious criticism upon her last work. I have met with many a country gentleman who had not read half as many books as this honest fellow, this shrewd proletaire in a black shirt. The people about him took up and carried on the conversation very knowingly, and were very little behind him in point of information. It was just as good a company as one meets on common occasions. I was in a genteel crowd in one of the galleries at the Queen's coronation; indeed, in point of intelligence, the democrats were quite equal to the aristocrats. How many more such groups were there in this immense multitude of nearly forty thousand, as some say ? How many more such throughout the country ? I never yet, as I said before, have been in an English mob without the same feeling for the persons who composed it, and without wonder at the vigorous orderly good sense and intelligence of the people. The character of the crowd was as yet, however, quite festive. Jokes bandying about here and there, and jolly laughs breaking out, 3 2 s 642 GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED Some men were endeavouring to climb up a leaden pipe on one of the houses. The landlord came out, and endeavoured with might and main to pull them down. Many thousand eyes turned upon this contest immediately. All sorts of voices issued from the crowd, and uttered choice expressions of slang. When one of the men was pulled down by the leg, the waves of this black mob-ocean laughed innumerably ; when one fellow slipped away, scrambled up the pipe, and made good his lodgment on the shelf, we were all made happy, and encouraged him by loud shouts of admiration. What is there so particularly delightful in the spectacle of a man clambering up a gas-pipe? Why were we kept for a quarter of an hour in deep interest gazing upon this remarkable scene 1 Indeed it is hard to say : a man does not know what a fool he is until he tries ; or, at least, what mean follies will amuse him. The other day I went to Astley's, and saw clown come in with a fool's cap and pinafore, and six small boys who represented his schoolfellows. To them enters schoolmaster ; horses clown, and iiogs him hugely on the back part of his pinafore. I never read anything in 'Swift, Boz, Rabelais, Fielding, Paul de Kock, which delighted me so much as this sight, and caused me to laugh so profoundly. And why ? What is there so ridiculous in the sight of one miserably rouged man beating another on the breech ? Tell us where the fun lies in this and the before-mentioned episode of the gas-pipe ? Vast, indeed, are the capacities and ingenuities of the human soul that can find, in incidents so wonderfully small, means of contemplation and amusement. ReaUy the time passed away with extraordinary quickness. A thousand things of the sort related here came to amuse us. First the workmen knocking and hammering at the scaffold, mysterious clattering of blows was heard within it, and a ladder painted black was carried round, and into the interior of the edifice by a small side door. We all looked at this little ladder and at each other — things began to be very interesting. Soon came a squad of policemen : stalwart rosy-looking men, saying much for City feeding ; well dressed, well limbed, and of admirable good-humour. They paced about the open space between the prison and the barriers which kept in the crowd irom the scafibld. The front line, as far as I could see, was chiefly occupied by blackguards and boys — ■ professional persons, no doubt, who saluted the policemen on their appearance with a volley of jokes and ribaldry. As far as I could judge from faces, there were more blackguards of sixteen and seven- teen than of any maturer age ; stuntedj sallow, ill-grown lads, in rugged fustian, scowling about. There were a considerable number of girls, too, of the same age : one that Cruikshank and Boz might have taken as a study for Nancy. The girl was a young thief's GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED 643 mistress evidently ; if attacked, ready to reply without a particle of modesty ; could give as good ribaldry as she got ; made no secret (and there were several inquiries) as to her profession and means of livelihood. But with all this, there was something good about the girl ; a sort of devil-may-care candour and simplicity that one could not fail to see. Her answers to some of the coarse questions put to her, were very ready and good-humoured. She had a friend with her of the same age and class, of whom she seemed to be very fond, and who looked up to her for protection. Both of these women had beautiful eyes. Devil-may-care's were extraordinarily bright and blue, an admirably fair complexion, and a large red mouth full of white teeth. Au reste, ugly, stunted, thick-limbed, and by no means a beauty. Her friend could not be more than fifteen. They were not in rags, but had greasy cotton shawls, and old faded rag-shop bonnets. I was curious to look at them, having, in late fashionable novels, read many accounts of such personages. Bah ! what figments these novelists tell us ! Boz, who knows life well, knows that his Miss Nancy is the most unreal fantastical personage possible ; no more like a thief's mistress than one of Gesner's shepherdesses resembles a real country wench. He dare not tell the truth concerning such young ladies. They have, no doubt; virtues like other human creatures ; nay, their position engenders virtues that are not called into exercise among other women. But on these an honest painter of human nature has no right to dwell ; not being able to paint the whole portrait, he has no right to present one or two favourable points as characterising the whole ; and therefore, in fact, had better leave the picture alone altogether. The new French literature is essentially false and worthless from this very error — the writers giving us favourable pictures of monsters, and (to say nothing of decency or morality) pictures quite untrue to nature. But yonder, glittering through the crowd in Newgate Street — see, the Sheriffs' carnages are slowly making their way. We have been here three hours ! Is it possible that they can have passed so soon 1 Close to the barriers where we are, the mob has become so dense that it is with difiBculty a man can keep his feet. Each man, however, is very careful in protecting the women, and all are full of jokes and good-humour. The windows of the shops opposite are now pretty nearly filled by the persons who hired them. Many young dandies are there with moustaches and cigars ; some quiet fat family-parties, of simple honest tradesmen and their wives, as we fancy, who are looking on with the greatest imaginable calmness, and sipping their tea. Yonder is the sham Lord W , who is flinging various articles among the crowd ; one of his companions, 644 GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED a tall, burly man, with large moustaches, has provided himself with a squirt, and is aspersing the mob with brandy-and-water. Honest gentleman ! high-bred aristocrat ! genuine lover of humour and wit ! I would walk some miles so see thee on the treadmill, thee and thy Mohawk crew ! We tried to get up a hiss against these ruffians, but only had a trifling success ; the crowd did not seem to think their offence very heinous ; and our friend, the philosopher in the ragged elbows, who had remained near us all the time, was not inspired with any such savage disgust at the proceedings of certain notorious young gentle- men, as I must confess fills my own particular bosom. He only said, " So-and-so is a lord, and they'll let him off," and then dis- coursed about Lord Ferrers being hanged. The philosopher knew the history pretty well, and so did most of the little knot of persons about him, and it must be a gratifying thing for young gentlemen to find that their actions are made the subject of this kind of conversation. Scarcely a word had been said about Oourvoisier all this time. We were all, as far as I could judge, in just such a frame of mind as men are in when they are squeezing at the pit-door of a play, or pushing for a review or a Lord Mayor's show. We asked most of the men who were near us, whether they had seen many executions 1 most of them had, the philosopher especially ; whether the sight of them did any good? "For the matter of that, no; people did not care about them at all ; nobody ever thought of it after a bit." A countryman, who had left his drove in Smithfield, said the same thing ; he had seen a man hanged at York, and spoke of the cere- mony with perfect good sense, and in a quiet sagacious way. J. S , the famous wit, now dead, had, I recollect, a good story upon the subject of executing, and of the terror which the punishment inspires. After Thistlewood and his companions were hanged, their heads were taken off, according to the sentence, and the executioner, as he severed each, held it up to the crowd, in the proper orthodox way, saying, " Here is the head of a traitor ! " At the sight of the first ghastly head the people were struck with terror, and a general expression of disgust and fear broke from them. The second head was looked at also with much interest, but the excite- ment regarding the third head diminished. When the executioner had come to the last of the heads, he lifted it up, but, by some clumsiness, allowed it to drop. At this the crowd yelled out, " Ah, Butter-Angers I "■ — the excitement had passed entirely away. The punishment had grown to be a joke — Butter-iingers was the word — a pretty commentary, indeed, upon the august nature of public executions, and the awful majesty of the law. GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED 645 It was past seven now ; the quarters rang and passed away ; the crowd began to grow very eager and more quiet, and we turned back every now and then and looked at St. Sepulchre's clock. Half- an-hour, twenty-five minutes. What is he doing now 1 He has his irons oflf by this time. A quarter : he's in the press-room now, no doubt. Now at last we had come to think about the man we were going to see hanged. How slowly the clock crept over the last quarter ! Those who were able to turn round and see (for the crowd was now extraordinarily dense) chronicled the time, eight minutes, five minutes ; at last — ding, dong, dong, dong ! — the bell is tolling the chimes of eight. Between the writing of this line and the last, the pen has been put down, as the reader may suppose, and the person who is ad- dressing him has gone through a pause of no very pleasant thoughts and recollections. The whole of the sickening, ghastly, wicked scene passes before the eyes again ; and, indeed, it is an awful one to see, and very hard and painful to describe. As the clock began to strike, an immense sway and movement swept over the whole of that vast dense crowd. They were all un- covered directly, and a great murmur arose, more awful, bizarre, and indescribable than any sound I had ever before heard. Women and children began to shriek horribly. I don't know whether it was the bell I heard ; but a dreadful quick feverish kind of jangling noise mingled with the noise of the people, and lasted for about two minutes. The scafibld stood before us, tenantless and black ; the black chain was hanging down ready from the beam. Nobody came. " He has been respited," some one said ; another said, " He has kiUed himself in prison." Just then, from under the black prison-door, a pale quiet head peered out. It was shockingly bright and distinct; it rose up directly, and a man in black appeared on the scaffold, and was silently followed by about four more dark figures. The first was a tall grave man : we all knew who the second man was. " Thafis Jie — that^s hel" you heard the people say, as the devoted man came up. I have seen a cast of the head since, but, indeed, should never have known it. Coiuroisier bore his punishment like a man, and walked very firmly. He was dressed in a new black suit, as it seemed : his shirt was open. His arms were tied in front of him. He opened his hands in a helpless kind of way, and clasped them once or twice together. He turned his head here and there, and looked about him for an instant with a wild imploring look. His mouth was contracted into a sort of pitiful smile. He went and 646 GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED placed himself at once under the beam, with his face towards St. Sepulchre's. The tall grave man in black twisted him round swiftly in the other direction, and, drawing from his pocket a nightcap, pulled it tight over the patient's head and face. I am not ashamed to say that I could look no more, but shut my eyes as the last dreadful act was going on which sent this wretched guilty soul into the presence of God. If a public execution is beneficial — and beneficial it is, no doubt, or else the wise laws would not encourage forty thousand people to witness it — the next useful thing must be a full description of such a ceremony, and all its entourages, and to this end the above pages are offered to the reader. How does an individual man feel under it ? In what way does he observe it, — how does he view all the phenomena connected with it, — what induces him, in the first instance, to go and see it, — and how is he moved by it afterwards 1 The writer has discarded the magazine "We" altogether, and spoken face to face with the reader, recording every one of the impressions felt by him as honestly as he could. I must confess, then (for " I " is the shortest word, and the best in this case), that the sight has left on my mind an extraordinary feeling of terror and shame. It seems to me that I have been abetting an act of frightful wickedness and violence, performed by a set of men against one of their fellows ; and I pray God that it may soon be out of the power of any man in England to witness such a hideous and degrading sight. Forty thousand persons {say the Sheriffs), of all ranks and degrees, — mechanics, gentlemen, pick- pockets, members of both Houses of Parliament, street-walkers, newspaper-writers, gather together before Newgate at a very early hour; the most part of them give up their natural quiet night's rest, in order to partake of this hideous debauchery, which is more exciting than sleep, or than wine, or the last new ballet, or any other amusement they can have. Pickpocket and Peer, each is tickled by the sight alike, and has that hidden lust after blood which influences our race. Government, a Christian Government, gives us a feast every now and then : it agrees — tiiat is to say, a majority in the two Houses agrees — that for certain crimes it is necessary that a man should be hanged by the neck. Govern- ment commits the criminal's soul to the mercy of God, stating that here on earth he is to look for no mercy ; keeps him for a fortnight to prepare, provides him with a clergyman to settle his religious matters (if there be time enough, but Government can't wait) ; and on a Monday morning, the bell tolling, the clergyman reading out the word of God, " I am the resurrection and the life," " The Lord GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED 647 giveth, and the Lord taketh away," — on a Monday morning, at eight o'clock, this man is placed under a beam, with a rope connecting it and him ; a plank disappears from under him, and those who have paid for good places may see the hands of the Government agent, Jack Ketch, coming up from his black hole, and seizing the prisoner's legs, and pulling them, until he is quite dead — strangled. Many persons, and well-informed newspapers, say that it is mawkish sentiment to talk in this way, morbid humanity, cheap philanthropy, that any man can get up and preach about. There is the Observer, for instance, a paper conspicuous for the tremendous sarcasm which distinguishes its articles, and which falls cruelly foul of the Morning Herald. " Oourvoisier is dead," says the Observer : " he died as he had lived — a villain ; a lie was in his mouth. Peace be to his ashes. We war not with the dead." What a magnanimous Observer ! From this. Observer turns to the Herald, and says, " Fiat justitia, ruat caelum." So much for the Herald. We quote from memory, and the quotation from the Observer possibly is, — "De mortuis nil nisi bonum;" or, "Omne ignotum pro magnifico ; " or, " Sero nunquam est ad bonos mores via ; " or, " Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes emoUit mores nee sinit esse feros : " all of which pithy Koman apophthegms would apply just as well. "Peace be to his ashes. He died a villain." This is both benevolence and reason. Did he die a villain ? The Observer does not want to destroy him body and soul, evidently, from that pious wish that his ashes should be at peace. Is the next Monday but one after the sentence the time necessary for a villain to repent in 1 May a man not require more leisure — a week more — six months more — before he has been able to make his repentance sure before Him who died for us all ■?— for all, be it remembered,^ — not alone for the judge and jury, or for the sherifis, or for the executioner who is pulling down the legs of the prisoner, — but for him too, murderer and criminal as he is, whom we are killing for his crime. Do we want to kill him body and soul ? Heaven forbid ! My Lord in the black cap specially prays that Heaven may have mercy on him ; but he must be ready by Monday morning. Look at the documents which came from the prison of this unhappy Oourvoisier during the few days which passed between his trial and execution. Were ever letters more painful to read ? At first, his statements are false, contradictory, lying. He has not repented then. His last declaration seems to be honest, as far as the relation of the crime goes. But read the rest of his statement, the account of his personal history, and the crimes which he com- 648 GOING a;0 SEE A MAN HANGED mitted in his youhg days, — then " how the evil thought came to him to put his hand to the work," — it is evidently the writing of a mad, distracted man. The horrid gallows is perpetually before him ; he is wild with dread and remorse. Clergymen are with him cease- lessly ; religious tracts are forced into his hands ; night and day they ply him with the heinousness of his crime, and exhortations to repentance. Read through that last paper of his ; by Heaven, it is pitiful to read it. See the Scripture phrases brought in now and anon; the peculiar terms of tract-phraseology (I do not wish to speak of these often meritorious publications with disrespect) ; one knows too well how such language is learned, — imitated from the priest at the bedside, eagerly seized and appropriated, and confounded by the poor prisoner. But murder is such a monstrous crime (this is the great argu- ment), — when a man has killed another it is natural that he should be killed. Away with your foolish sentimentalists who say no — it is natural. That is the word, and a fine philosophical opinion it is ■ — philosophical and Christian. Kill a man, and you must be killed in turn : that is the unavoidable sequitur. You may talk to a man for a year upon the subject, and he will always reply to you, " It is natural, and therefore it must be done. Blood demands blood." Does it ? The system of compensations might be carried on ad infinitum, — an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, as by the old Mosaic law. But (putting the fact out of the question, that we have had this statute repealed by the Highest Authority), why, because you lose your eye, is that of your opponent to be extracted likewise? Where is the reason for the practice? And yet it is just as natural as the death dictum, founded precisely upon the same show of sense. Knowing, however, that revenge is not only evil, but useless, we have given it up on all minor points. Only to the last we stick firm, contrary though it be to reason and to Christen law. There is some talk, too, of the terror which the sight of this spectacle inspires, and of this we have endeavoured to give as good a notion as we can in the above pages. I fully confess that I came away down Snow Hill that morning with a disgust for murder, but it was for the murder I saw done. As we made our way through the immense crowd, we came upon two little girls of eleven and twelve years : one of them was crying bitterly, and begged, for Heaven's sake, that some one would lead her from that horrid place. This was done, and the children were carried into a place of safety. We asked the elder girl — and a very pretty one — what brought her into such a neighbourhood ? The child grinned knowingly, and said, " We've koom to see the mon hanged ! " Tender law, that brings GOING TO SEE A MAN HANGED 649" out babes upon such errands, and provides them with such gratifying moral spectacles I ■ This is the 20th of July, and I may be permitted for my part to decla-re that, for the last fourteen days, so salutary has the impression of the butchery been upon me, I have had the man's face continually before my eyes ; that I can see Mr. Ketch at this moment, mth an easy air, taking the rope from his pocket ; that I feel myself ashamed and degraded at the brutal curiosity which took me to that brutal sight ; and that I pray to Almighty God to cause this disgraceful sin to pass from among us, and to cleanse our land of blood. THE END