I OF CALIFORNIA SAN presented to the LIBRARY RSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIF.GO by FRIENDS OF THE LIBRARY MR. JOHN _C. _ROSE donor 560,2, SAMUEL TITMARSH AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND MEN'S WIVES THE BOOK OF SNOBS BY WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY WITH 118 ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR, J. P. ATKINSON, AND W. J. WEBB TEW YORK WORTHINGTON CO., 747 BROADWAY 1887 anU JTiftg Copies $rmtetj. No. ELBCTROTVPED BY C. J. PETERS AND SON, BOSTON. PRKSSWORK BY BERWICK AND SMITH. CONTENTS. THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMAKSH AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. CHAPTER PAGE I. GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF OUR VILLAGE, AND THE FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE DIAMOND 1 II. TELLS HOW THE DIAMOND is BROUGHT UP TO Lox- DON, AND PRODUCES WONDERFUL EFFECTS BOTH IN THE ClTY AND AT THE WEST END .... 8 III. How THE POSSESSOR OF THE DIAMOND is WHISKED INTO A MAGNIFICENT CHARIOT, AND HAS YET FURTHER GOOD LUCK 20 IV. How THE HAPPY DIAMOND-WEARER DINES AT PEN- TONVILLE 31 V. How THE DIAMOND INTRODUCES HIM TO A STILL MORE FASHIONABLE PLACE 36 VI. OF THE WEST DIDDLESEX ASSOCIATION, AND OF THE EFFECT THE DIAMOND HAD THERE 44 VII. How SAMUEL TITMARSH REACHED THE HIGHEST POINT OF PROSPERITY 53 VIII. RELATES THE HAPPIEST DAY OF SAMUEL TIT- MARSH'S LIFE 64 IX. BRINGS BACK SAM, HIS WIFE, AUNT, AND DIAMOND, TO LONDON 71 X. OF SAM'S PRIVATE AFFAIRS, AND OF THE FIRM OF BROUGH AND HOFF 84 XL IN WHICH IT APPEARS THAT A MAN MAY POSSESS A DIAMOND, AND YET BE HARD PRESSED FOR A DINNER 97 iii iv CONTENTS. XII. IN WHICH THE HERO'S AUNT'S DIAMOND MAKES ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE HERO'S UNCLE . . . 107 XIII. IN WHICH IT IS SHOWN THAT A GOOD WlFE IS THE BEST DIAMOND A MAN CAN WEAB IN HIS BOSOM 120 TALES. MEN'S WIVES. THE RAVENSWING. I. WHICH IS ENTIRELY INTRODUCTORY CONTAINS AN ACCOUNT OF Miss CRUMP, HER SUITORS, AND HER FAMILY CIRCLE 135 II. IN WHICH Mu. WALKER MAKES THREE ATTEMPTS TO ASCERTAIN THE DWELLING OF MORGIANA . 156 III. WHAT CAME OF MR. WALKER'S DISCOVERY OF THE "BOOTJACK" 168 IV. IN WHICH THE HEROINE HAS A NUMBER MORE LOVERS, AND CUTS A VERY DASHING FIGURE IN THE WORLD 179 V. IN WHICH MR. WALKER FALLS INTO DIFFICULTIES, AND MRS. WALKER MAKES MANY FOOLISH ATTEMPTS TO RESCUE HIM 198 VI. IN WHICH MR. WALKER STILL REMAINS IN DIFFI- CULTIES, BUT SHOWS GREAT RESIGNATION UNDER HIS MISFORTUNES 217 VII. IN WHICH MORGIANA ADVANCES TOWARD FAME AND HOXOR, AND IN WHICH SEVERAL GREAT LITER- ARY CHARACTERS MAKE THEIR APPEARANCE . 230 VIII. IN WHICH MR. WALKER SHOWS GREAT PRUDENCE AND FORBEARANCE 246 MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. I. THE FIGHT AT SLAUGHTER HOUSE 261 II. THE COMBAT AT VERSAILLES 268 DENNIS HAGGABTY'S WIFE 287 CONTENTS. THE BOOK OF SNOBS. PREFATORY REMARKS 313 I. THE SNOB PLAYFULLY DEALT WITH 317 II. THE SNOB ROYAL 322 III. THE INFLUENCE OF THE ARISTOCRACY CN SNOBS, 326 IV. "THE COURT CIRCULAR," AND ITS INFLUENCE ON SNOBS 330 V. WHAT SNOBS ADMIRE 335 ' | ON SOME RESPECTABLE SNOBS < VIII. GREAT CITY SNOBS 349 IX. i t 353 f ON SOME MILITARY SNOBS I Jv. / ( oO i XL } f361 XII. ION CLERICAL SNOBS AND SNOBBISHNESS . . < 364 XIII. J [369 > ON UNIVERSITY SNOBS \ XV. J I 378 XVI. ON LITERARY SNOBS 382 XVII. A LITTLE ABOUT IRISH SNOBS 386 XVIII. PARTY-GIVING SNOBS 389 XIX. DINING-OUT SNOBS 394 XX. DINNER-GIVING SNOBS FURTHER CONSIDERED, 398 XXI.) (403 J- SOME CONTINENTAL SNOBS I XXII. J I 408 XXIII. ENGLISH SNOBS ON TIIE CONTINENT . . . 412 XXIV. XXV. XXVI. XXX. XXXI. 430 KJN COME LJOUNTRY CJNOBS < XXVIII. XXIX. SOME COUNTRY SNOBS 434 416 420 425 439 443 448 XXXII. SNOBBIUM GATHERUM 452 VI CONTENTS. XXXIII. i '457 XXXIV. 461 ! XXXV. 466 XXXVI. ,472 XXXVII. i 477 XXXVIII. 482 XXXIX. 486 XL. 490 XLI. 495 XLII. 4S9 XLIII. 504 XLIV. - 508 513 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. THE HISTOKY SAMUEL TITMARSH. THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. CHAPTER I. GIVES AN ACCOUNT OP OUR VILLAGE AND THE FIRST GLIMPSE OP THE DIAMOND. " 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 E^H.'^' * s P or * at th e kord Lieutenant's fin iBOHlli' 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 uni- form 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 1 1 2 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 HOGGARTY 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 holi- day, she was particularly 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 hay -fields) ; promised every time I drank her bohea 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 or cribbage afterwards. I did not care for the cards ; for though we always played seven hours on a stretch, and I always lost, my losings were never more than nineteen- pence a night: but there was some infernal sour black- currant wine, that the old lady always produced at dinner, and with the tray at ten o'clock, and which I dared not refuse ; though upon my word and honor it made me very unwell. "Well, I thought after all this obsequiousness on my part, and my aunt's repeated promises, that the old lady would at least make me a present of a score of guineas (of which she had a power in the drawer) ; and so convinced was I that some such present was intended for me, that a young lady by the name of Miss Mary Smith, with whom I had conversed on the subject, actually netted me a 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 a thick curl of the glossiest, blackest hair you ever saw in your life, and next there was threepence : that is to say, the half of a silver sixpence hang- ing by a little necklace of blue ribbon. Ah, but I knew where the other half of the sixpence was, and envied that happy bit of silver ! The last day of my holiday I was obliged, of course, to devote to Mrs. Hoggarty. My aunt was excessively gra- cious ; and by way of a treat brought out a couple of bottles of the black currant, of which she made me drink the greater part. At night when all the ladies assembled AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 3 at her party had gone off with their pattens and 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, and taking the fourth in her hand, went and unlocked her escritoire. I can tell you my heart beat, though I pretended to look quite unconcerned. " Sam, my dear," said she, as she was fumbling with her keys, " take another glass of Eosolio " (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 click click against the glass. By the time I had swallowed it, the old 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. 4 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH "Now's the time," thought I. " Samuel, my dear nephew," said she, " your first name you 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 hand- some 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. Your 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 aunt, 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 wearing it as of wearing a cocked hat and pig- tail. 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 AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 5 raillery. " I shall always value this present for the sake of you, who gave it me ; and it will recall to ine my uncle, and my thirteen aunts in Ireland." " I don't wan't 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." " Well, sir, never mind the locket ; have it set afresh." " Or suppose," said I, " I put aside the setting alto- gether : 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'oeuvre" (pronounced shy dewver, a favorite word of my aunt's ; being, with the words bong- tony 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 in her bosom at the Lord Lieutenant's ball, where she played a game of piquet with the Com- mander-in-Chief. 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 Comniander-in-Chief, ( if that is not my friend Mick Hoggarty, I'm a Dutchman ! ' Those were his lord- ship's very words. Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty took off the brooch and showed it to him. " ' Who is the artist ? ' says my lord. ' It's the most wonderful likeness I ever saw in my life ! ' " ' Mulcahy,' says she, ' of Ormond's Quay.' " ' Begad, I patronize him ! ' says my lord ; but presently his face darkened, and he gave back the picture with a dis- satisfied air. f 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 over- looked it.' " 'What's that? ' says Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty. " ' Madam, he has been painted WITHOUT HIS SWORD- 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/ He had set his whole reputation upon this miniature, and 6 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH declared that it should be faultless. 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 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-humor, and she promised at the end of it to pay for the new 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 in 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 will 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, will buy me a couple of pairs of what-d'ye-call-'ems " ; 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 donation, 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 over- taken ten o'clock that had passed by me two hours ago, AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 7 when I was listening to Mrs. H.'s long stories over her terrible Rosolio. The truth is, at ten I had an appoint- ment 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 awoke 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 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 smok- ing 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 for- gotten Mrs. Hoggarty's brooch, which I had stuck into my shirt-frill 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. HE circumstances recorded in yrw^ 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 companies of all 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 Corn- hill. Mamma had sunk a sum of four hundred pounds in the purchase of an annuity at this 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 Hoff, 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 patronized 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 school- 8 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 9 master and clergyman of his native place, strongly vouch- ing for his morals and doctrine ; and the places Avere 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 mys- teries 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 tell us of immense bargains in Spanish, Greek, and Columbians, that Brough made. Hoff had nothing to 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 partnership 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 Tudlow's share was all nonsense, and that Brough had it all ; but Bob was always too knowing by half, used to wear a green cut- away coat, and had his free admission to Covent 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 Cornhill) 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 10 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 form- ing a part of the Independent West Diddlesex Association. The welfare of thousands was in their keeping ; millions 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 con* sidered 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 wa y) 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 cast him from him ! 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 : all 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 full in the face ! How it was relieved, though, when he shouted out in a thundering voice, " Mr. EGBERT SWINXEY ! " " 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 office 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 labored 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 afford, sir, to pass them by no worldly conversation or foul jesting disturbed the atten- tion of these gentlemen, or desecrated the peaceful scene of their labors. You found Christians and gentlemen, gir!" AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 11 "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 friends 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 12 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH prayed, sir, before I came to this determination; I have taken counsel, sir, and am resolved. Depart from out of us!" " 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'll tell you what, Brough, I'm of age ; and if you don't pay me my salary, I'll arrest you, by Jingo, I will ! I'll have you in quod, or my name's not Bob Swinney ! " "Make out a check, Mr. Koundhand, for the three months' salary of this perverted young man." "Twenty-one pun' five, Eoundhand, 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 icould do me the honor 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 Eoundhand's desk put his arm round his neck, and looked over the ledger. "What money has been paid in to-day, Eoundhand?" 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. Eoundhand 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 THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 13 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 ! Reinem- ber, every share you bring in brings you five per cent, clown 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 ? " " 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 mother, sir your dear and excellent parent ? In good health, I trust ? And long long, I fervently pray, may this office continue to pay her annuity ! Remember, 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 ? Young 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-by, Roundhand," says he, " a word with you on biTsiness. 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 nightcap 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 honor 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 14 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 Pentonville was, and couldn't call on Mrs. Eoundhand. Though, to be sure, her coachman might have found out the way. " And oh, Eoundhand ! " continued our governor, " draw a check for seven hundred, will you ! Come, 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 check, and shaking hands with Mr. Eoundhand 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 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 tiresome that even- ing, 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 recollected Bob Swinney's hospitable invitation. We never fancied that he had meant the invitation in earnest, but thought we might as well 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 banging away at the table with the bot- toms 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 tumblers, 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 AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 15 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 bill, " I'll give you the health of John Brough, Esquire, and thanks to him for the present of 211. 5s. which he made me this morning. What do I say 211. 5s. ? 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 tip-top place, I tell you. Five guineas a week, six 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 and Co., of Thames Street, in the city of London ! " I have been thus particular in my account of the West Diddlesex Insurance office, and of Mr. Brough, the manag- ing 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 educa- tion ; and especially because I had a rich aunt, Mrs. Hoggarty, about whom, as must be confessed, 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 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 office 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 16 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH I promised that lie should have a sight at 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) Koundhand, who was very good-natured, asked me to dine, and advanced me 11. Is. Sd., 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 ill-treated him ; as I have told before. Poor fellow ! we under-clerks all thought it was a fine thing to sit at a desk by one's self, and have 501. per month, as Roundhand 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 harmony, too ; though we made sad work of the music, certainly. One day Gus Hoskins and I asked leave from Roundhand 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 him- self as it were a distingue air, and puffed at it all 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 full of ladies were drawing up and setting down. Gus kept his hands in his pockets trousers were worn very full 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 801. a year, contented our- selves with Bluchers) ; and as Gus stretched out his panta- loons as wide as he could from his hips, and kept blowing away at his 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 AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 17 was standing close by, as it happened, serving three ladies, a very old one and two young ones, who were examin- ing 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 recollect everything; "and a silver punch-ladle to the captain. How is the major colonel general ay, sir ? " " 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 thing is of Irish manufacture, bears the stamp of '95, and will recall perhaps the times of your ladyship's earliest youth." " Get ye out, Mr. Polonius ! " said the old lady, a little 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 ! " 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 all 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 2 18 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH represent his thirteen celebrated sisters, Biddy, Minny, Thedy, Widdy (short for Williamina), 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 thirte^p. 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 ; AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 19 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 his might Gude faith, he canna fa' that.' Why need I care about telling these ladies where I live ? " " 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. Ring, if you please, the two-pair bell." " What, sir ? " said Mr. Polonius. "Swat!" shrieked the old lady, "Mr. Hwat? Mais, ma chere, cest impayable. Come along here's the car- r'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." " Pooh, pooh ! send 'um to the juice, and jump in ! " And before almost 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. HOW THE POSSESSOR OP THE DIAMOND IS WHISKED INTO A MAGNIFICENT CHARIOT, LUCK. AND HAS YET FURTHER GOOD SAT on the back seat of the car- riage, 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 h a n d- some too, but ten years older. I recollect I had on that day my blue coat and brass buttons, nankeen trousers, a white sprig waistcoat, and one of Dando's silk 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 imi- tation goold neck-chain, who steered at us so as we got into the carr'age ? " How she should have known that Gus's chain was mosaic I can't tell ; but so it was, and we had bought it for five- and-twenty and sixpence only the week before at M'Phail's, in 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 Hoskins. We live together ; and a better or more kind-hearted fellow does not exist." " You are quite right to stand up for your friends, sir." 20 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 21 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 Hos- kinses : 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 remem- ber him as thin as a lath in the year '84, and as active 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, hundreds 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-call-'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 candor 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 eld- est son ? It's a pretty property, though sadly encumbered ; for old Sir George was the divvle of a man a friend of Hanbury Williams, and Lyttleton, and those horrid, mons- trous, 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 leather-seller in Skinner Street, Snow Hill, a very respectful house, ma'am. But Gus is only third son, and so can't expect a great share in the property." The two young ladies smiled at this the old lady said, " Hwat ? " 22 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH " 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 anywhere, Mr. Titmarsh ? " " Noways particular, my lady," says I. " We have a holi- day at our office to-day at least Eoundhand gave me and Gits leave ; and I shall be very happy, indeed, to take a drive in the Park, if it's no offence." " I'm sure it will give us infinite pleasure," said Lady Jane ; though rather in a grave way. " Oh, that it will ! " says Lady Fanny, clapping her hands : " won't it, grandmamma ? And after we have been in the Park, we can walk in Kensington Gardens, if Mr. Titmarsh will 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. "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 blessed syllable will 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 aris- tocracy), laughed, and blushed, and giggled, and seemed quite to enjoy her sister's ill-humor. 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 horseback 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, I 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 manoeuvres going on, I could not help just giving a wink to Lady Jane, as much as AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 23 to say I knew what was what. " I guess the young lady is looking for Somebody," says I. 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. " 11 est charmant, votre monsieur," said Lady Jane to her grandmamma ; and on which I bowed and said, " Madame, voiis 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 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 ? 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 blush- ing 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 24 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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. Tit- marsh." But, instead of taking off his hat as I did mine, his lordship growled out that he hoped for another oppor- tunity, 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 Hon. 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 Hon. Edmund was riding a gray 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 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 grandmam- ma'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 all the world related to her, and said, "Yes, we're cousins, and not very far removed. Mick Hoggarty's grandmother was Millicent Brady, and she and AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 25 my aunt Towser were related, as all the world knows ; for Decimus Brady, of Ballybrady, married an own cousin of aunt Towser's mother, Bell 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 honorable gent still 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 Dolly and the rest ? " " D the Miss Hoggarties, ma'am," said the right hon- orable gent ; and he said it with such energy, that his gray horse gave a sudden lash out that well-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 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 26 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH could have ridden it ; and here was the man with his soul in his mouth at the very first kick. " Oh, quick ! do come iu, 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 corner (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 will be to show all the world a Secre- tary 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 gentle- man." " 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 comfor- table here, that really I couldn't 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 ! " 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." " I'm very sorry I'm engaged," said I. " Oh, indeed, what a pity ! " says Right Honorable Ned, still glowering at his wife. " What a pity that this gentle- man I forget his name that your friend, Lady Jane, is engaged ! I am sure you would have had such gratifica- tion in meeting your relation in Whitehall." Lady Drum was over-fond of finding out relations to be sure ; but this speech of Eight Honorable 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, AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 27 as the right honorable 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 pease 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, inso- lence to one's inferiors. I hate the chap that uses it, as I scorn him of humble rank that affects 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 fright- ened ; I'm not a-going to dine 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 will take you at your ivord." "Is that all, sir ? " says Mr. Preston, still in a rage. "If you have done, will you leave this house, or shall my ser- vants turn you out ? Turn out this fellow ! do you hear me ? " and he broke away from 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 dinuer'll be getting cold " : and she was for hurry- ing away Lady Jane without more ado. But that kind lady, coming forward, looking very pale 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 28 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMAESH 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 Fanny 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 kindly, 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 some- thing to me that was the least uncivil, so that I might have the pleasure of knocking him down, with my best compli- ments to his master. But neither of them did me any such favor ! and I went away, and dined at home off boiled mut- ton and turnips with Gus Hoskins, quite peacefully. I did not think it was proper to tell Gus (who, between ourselves, is rather curious, and inclined to tittle-tattle) all the particulars 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, Guss's " Don Juan " and " Peerage " on the other, I saw as follows : 1. 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. 3. An enormous piece of raw mutton, as I thought it was ; AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 29 but Mrs. Stokes said it was the priniest haunch of venison that ever she saw. And three cards ; viz. DOWAGER COUNTESS OF DRUM. LADY FANNY RAKES. MR. PRESTON. LADY JANE PRESTON. EARL OF TIPTOFF. " 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 whis- kers and yellow-plush small-clothes ; and inside, a very old lady in a white poke bonnet, and a young one with a great Leghorn hat and blue ribbons, and a great, tall, pale gentle- man with a tuft on his chin. " ( Pray, madam, does Mr. Titmarsh live here ? ' 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, Cornhill.' " ' 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 Tiptoff 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 company. 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 favor he knows so well how to speak. Along with this was a little note, containing the words 30 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. " 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 I ? 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, entre nous, I had quite forgotten in the morning everything that had taken place after a certain period on the night before. CHAPTER IV. HOW THE HAPPY DIAMOND-WEARER DINES AT PENTONVILLE. "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 Hos- kins have the start of me, and tell the chaps what had taken place, for we all have our little vani- ties, and I liked to be thought well of by my companions. When I came in, I saw my busi- ness 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. Eound- _ hand shook me, too, warmly by ~^3i? T3 ^* SB * '~ " ^> 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 Sun- day, in Myddelton Square. "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 alwaj^s happy to see a friend in our plain way, pale sherry, old port, and cut and come again. Hey ? " 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 forced-meat balls as Hoskins in my mock-turtle, and pretty nearly all the oys- ters out of the sauce-boat. Once, Eoundhand was going to 31 32 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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, " AXTOXY ! " and poor R. 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 hun- dred and fifty thousand a year ; whether I was invited to Drum Castle ; what the young ladies wore, and if they had those odious 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 down- stairs ? " cries the lady, quite angry, and wishing to stop the conversation. " No, Milly, 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 made 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 sqTieezing 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." AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 33 But Milly didn't hear : for she was occupied in telling me an immense long story about her waltzing with the Count de Schloppenzollern 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. Eoundhand has never allowed it since our marriage never ; but in the year 'fourteen it was considered a pro- per compliment, you know, to pay the sovereigns. So twenty-nine young ladies, of the best families in the city of London, I assure you, Mr. Titmarsh there was the Lord Mayor's own daughters ; Alderman Dobbins' gals ; Sir Charles Hopper's three, who have the great house in Baker Street; and your humble servant, who was rather slimmer 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 splen- did man, that Count Schloppenzollern ! " " 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. Eound- hand, 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 indif- ference. Look at Eoundhand, the great baby, trying to beat down a butterfly with his yellow bandanna ! Can a man like that comprehend me ? can he fill the void in my heart ? " (She pronounced it without the h ; but that there should be no mistake, laid her hand upon the place meant.) " Ah, no ! Will 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 a-thinking of my dear, dear Mary Smith in the country, walking home to her grandmother's, in her modest gray cloak, as the bells were chiming and the air full of the sweet smell of the hay, and the river shining in the sun, all crimson, purple, gold, and silver. There was my dear Mary a hundred and twenty miles off, in Somerset- shire, 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 feeling for a certain half of a sixpence that you have heard me speak of ; and putting my hand 3 34 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH mechanically upon my chest, I tore my fingers with the point of iny new DIAMOND-PIN. Mr. Polonius had sent it home the night before, and I sported it for the first time at Koundhand's to dinner. "It's a beautiful diamond," said Mrs. Koundhand. "I have been looking at it all 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 ac- quaintances 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, aye, and half broke my head against the sash, too, as I went out to the gents in 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 ; AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 35 for he had ogled the last girl out of the last church, and the night was beginning to fall. " What ! already ? " said Mrs. Eoundhand ; " there is a lobster coming up, a trifling refreshment ; not what he's accustomed to, but " I am sorry to say I nearly said, " D the lobster ! " as Eoundhand went and whispered to her that I was ill. " Ay," said Gus, looking very knowing. " Kecollect, Mrs. E., that he was at the West End on Thursday, asked to dine, ma'am, with the tip-top 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 Eoundhand, as quick as thought. "Not in my house of a Sunday," said Mrs. E., 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. Eoundhand ; and out she flounced from the room, without ever so much as wishing us good-night. "Do stay," said the husband, looking very much fright- ened, " 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 Salisbury Square, I gave Gus a lecture about spending his Sun- days 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. HOW THE DIAMOND INTRODUCES HIM TO A STILL MORE FASHIONABLE PLACE. 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. Polo- nius's, as I said, on Saturday night; and Gus and I hap- pened to be out enjoying our- selves, half-price, at Sadler's Wells ; and perhaps we took a little refreshment on our way back : but that has noth- ing to do with my story. On the table, however, was the little box from the jewel- ler's ; and when I took it out, my, 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, nevertheless, 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 bed- room, 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 36 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 37 Somebody gave me (I don't mind owning it was Mary Smith), and in which I stuck it for the night. But, some- how, 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 nightgown, 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 " every- where. As we were going to dine at Koundhand's, and I had no black satin stock to set it off, I was obliged to place it in the frill of my 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 Somerset- shire 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-gorum, or some such thing, which he had iu 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 gov- ernor would give me as much for it. " That's a proof," says E-oundhand, " 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 five-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 extrav- agant. 38 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH Our director, Mr. Brough, did not fail to hear of the haunch of venison business, and my relationship with Lady Drum and the Eight Hon. Edmund Preston : only Abed- nego. who told him, said I was her ladyship's first cousin ; and this made B rough think more of me, and no worse than before. Mr. B. was, as everybody knows, Member of Parliament for Rottenburgh ; and being considered one of the richest men in the city of London, used to receive all 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 fruit, and the dinner at Roundhand's above described, my dia- mond had other honors in store for me, and procured me the honor of an invitation to the house of our director, Mr. Brough. Once a year, in June, that honorable 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, 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 tip-top 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 Mrs, Brough's party, not the gentle- man's, he being in the Dissenting way, would scarcely sanction any entertainments of the kind : but he told his City friends that his lady governed him in everything ; 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 assem- bled together: Mrs. Eounclhand, 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. Roundhand 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 invitations many weeks before, and bragged about them not a little. But two days before the ball, and AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 39 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 Koundhand 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 confirmed it, saying, as he was going out of the office, "Mr. Titmarsh, you will come down on Thursday to Mrs. Brough's party, where you will see some relations of yours." " West End again ! " says that Gus Hoskins ; and accord- ingly down I went, taking a place in a cab which Round- hand 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 curious people outside ; nor the ices, fiddlers, wreaths of 40 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH flowers, and cold supper within. The whole description was beautifully 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 ale- house for their 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 mentioned my name appeared in the list of the " Honorables." Next day, Brough adver- tised " a hundred and fifty guineas reward for an emerald necklace lost at the party of John Brough, Esq., at Ful- ham " ; though some of our people said that no such thing was lost at all, and that Brough only wanted to advertise the magnificence 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 honor 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 Tiptoff and Lady Fanny Rakes for our vis-a-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 AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 41 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 intoxicated himself at the " Yellow Lion," threw out Gutch and our head clerk as he was driving them back, and actually fought Gutch afterwards and blacked his eye, because he said that Gutch' s red waist- coat frightened 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, 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 ? Do you know he asked me if you were not related to us ? 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 my relatives." At this they all began to laugh ; and my lord said, rather haughtily, 42 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH " 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 will 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. Koundhand's, which all came from my diamond-pin, and my reputation as a connection of the aristocracy. Then I thanked Lady Jane handsomely for her magnificent present of fruit and venison, and told her that it had entertained a great number of kind friends of mine, who had drunk her lady- ship's health with the greatest gratitude. " A haunch of venison ! " cried Lady Jane, quite aston- ished; "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 Tiptoff. "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. Whereupon 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. Tit- marsh, 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 T 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 is very sorry to part with it," cries Lady Fanny. " And then she orders us to proceed to Mr. Titmarsh's AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 43 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 grandmamma go into Fr into Lord Tiptoff's 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 Bull 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 ourselves 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. ELL, the magic of the pin was not over yet. Very soon after Mrs. Brough's grand party, our director called me up to his room at the West Diddlesex, and, after examining my ac- counts, and speaking a while about business, said, "That's a very fine diamond-pin, Mas- ter Titmarsh" (he spoke in a ' grave, patronizing 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 establish- ment well and handsomely dressed ; but I know that their salaries cannot afford orna- ments 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-by, now I recollect, Mr. Titmarsh I do recollect yes ; though I suppose, sir, you will imagine that I have other more important things to remember." " Oh, sir, in course," says I. " That one of the clerks did say something about a pin 44 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 45 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, Tit- marsh ? " " 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 hun- dred 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 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 off, and that the money was lodged at Coutts's. Ireland was in a very dis- turbed 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 commercial 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 prop- erty so accurately ? " said Mr. Brough ; upon which I told him. " Good heavens, sir ! 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 honor to serve ? 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 you 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 bond fide sovereigns paid up, sir, there is no dishonesty there. But why should we not have twenty millions a 46 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH hundred millions ? 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 endeavors to establish it ! But do you sup- pose 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 in 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 be 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- f our into this office, with four pounds nineteen, which I paid in to Mr. Eoundhand as the price of half a share for the porter at my lodge-gate? Did you remark that I deducted a shilling from the five pound ? " " 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 ? Because it was my commission John Brough's commission of five per cent. ; honestly earned by him, and openly taken. Was there any disguise about it ? 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. Think 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 family at his death. Every farthing is in- vested in shares in this office ; and Eobert Gates, my lodge- AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 47 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 ? " " Oh, sir ! " says I. " To cheat that poor helpless man, and those tender, inno- cent children ! you can't think so, sir ; I should be a disgrace to human nature if I did. But what boots all my energy and perseverance ? What though I place my friend's money, my family's money, my own money my hopes, wishes, desires, ambitions all upon this enterprise ? You young men will 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 negli- gence of which I had been guilty. " Sir," says I, " I am very very sorry : it was a matter of delicacy, rather than otherwise, wnich 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 indiffer- ence to me, say ingratitude, say folly, but don't say delicacy no, no, not delicacy. Be honest, my boy, and call 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 honor, I will write." " Well, as your honor 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 honor I will," 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, 48 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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'll dic- tate to you in a moment." So he began : " MY DEAB AUNT, Since my return from Somersetshire, I am very happy indeed to tell 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 I. " 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 will, 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 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 our Association, but feelings of delicacy prevented me from doing so. I 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 Diddle- sex 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 (underline that), is as follows: " The subscribed and bond fide capital is FIVE MILLIONS STERLING. " The body of directors you know. Suffice it to say that the man- aging director is John Brough, Esq., of the firm 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 million; and the last dividends paid to the shareholders of the I. W. D. Association amounted to 6J per cent, per annum." [That I know was the dividend declared by us.] AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 49 " Although the shares in the market are at a very great premium, it is the privilege of the first four clerks to dispose of a certain num- ber, 5.000 each at par; and if you, my dearest aunt, would wish for 2,500 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 I. " You have, sir. / will take the shares ; but I want you. 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, 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 grum- bled 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 your relations money ? or are any of them going to put it into the concern ? " 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." 4 50 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 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 many 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 G-us, 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 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 even- ing 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 not ? 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 parlor, and not be obliged to sneak behind the hayricks on the lookout 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 ; beg- ging me to keep my shares open for a little while, until her mind was made up. What, then, does Mr. Brough do ? I learned after- wards, in the year 1830, when he and the West Diddlesex AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 51 Association had disappeared altogether, how he had pro- ceeded. " Who are the attorneys at Slopperton ? " says he to me, in a careless way. "Mr. Kuck, 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-colored 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 dia- mond-pin very much. "Titinarsh, 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 ? Abednego will do yoiTr work." " Law, sir ! you are very kind," says I. " 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 understand me ? " " I've my blue coat and brass buttons at home, sir." "What! that thing with the waist between your shoul- ders 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 my- self 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'll 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, 52 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 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 panta- loons, of the most beautiful make. Brough told me to get some boots and pumps, and silk stockings for evenings ; so that when the time came for me to go down to Fulhain, I appeared as handsome as any young nobleman, and Gus said that "I looked, by jingo, like a regular tip-top swell." In the meantime the following letter had been sent down to Hodge and Smithers : " Ram Alley, Cornhill, London, " DEAR SIKS, July, 1822. This part being on private affairs relative to the cases of Dixon v. Haggerstony, Snodgrass v. Rubbidge and another, I am not permitted to extract. " Likewise we beg to hand you a few more prospectuses of Inde- pendent West Diddlesex Fire and Life Insurance Company, of which we have the honor 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 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 1,000, 6 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 Rookery, Fulham, residence of John Brough, Esq., M. P. CHAPTEE VII. HOW SAMUEL TITMAESH REACHED THE HIGHEST POINT OF PROSPERITY. F I had the pen of a George Robins, I might describe the Eookery properly: suffice it, however, to say, it is a very handsome country place ; with handsome lawns sloping down to the river, handsome shrub- beries and conservatories, fine stables, out-houses, kitchen- gardens, and everything be- longing 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 livery 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 honor 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 ill-natured, and about eighteen. " Belinda, my love," said her papa, " this young gentle- man is one of my clerks, who was at our ball." " Oh, indeed ! " says Belinda, tossing up her head. 11 But not a common clerk, Miss Belinda, so, if you please, we will have none of your aristocratic airs with him. He is a nephew of the Countess of Drum ; and I 53 64 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 courtesy, 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 petit comite ; but I hope before you leave us you will see some societe that will make your sejour agreeable." I saw at once that she was a fashionable girl, from her using the French language in this way. " Isn't she a fine girl ? " said Brough, whispering to me, and evidently as proud of her as a man could be. " Isn't she a fine girl eh, you dog ? Do you see breeding like that in Somersetshire ? " " No, sir, upon my word ! " answered I, rather slily ; for I was thinking all the while how "Somebody " was a thou- sand times more beautiful, simple, and lady-like. " And what has my dearest love been doing all day ? " said her papa. " Oh, Pa ! I have pinced the harp a little to Captain Fiz- gig's flute. Didn't I, Captain Fizgig ? " Captain the Hon. Francis Fizgig said, " Yes, Brough, your fair daughter pinced the harp, and touched the piano, and egratigned the guitar, and ecorched a song or two ; and we had the pleasure of a promenade a I'eau, 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 are coming out in the great world, to have some lessons ; or at least get up a couple of dozen phrases, and introduce them into your conversation here and there. I suppose, sir, you speak it commonly at the office, or what you call it ? " 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 voyage like nous autres, hey ? Mais qu& voulez-vous, my AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 55 good sir ? you must stick to your cursed ledgers and things. "What's the French for ledger, Miss Belinda ? " " How can you ask ! Je n'en sgais 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. Pm 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 am I proud ? 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 ? " " 0-o-oh ! " sighed the gent who went by the name of Bill Tidd : a very pale young man, with a black ribbon round his neck instead of a handkerchief, and his collars turned down like Lord Byron. He was leaning against the mantle- piece, and with a pair of great green eyes ogling Miss Brough with all his might. " Oh, John my dear John ! " cried Mrs. Brough, seiz- ing her husband's hand and kissing it, " you are an angel, that you are ! " " Isabella, don't flatter me ; I'm a man, a plain, down- right 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 live, Titmarsh my boy : ours is a happy, humble, Christian home, and that's all. Isa- bella, leave go my hand ! " " Mamma, you mustn't do so before company ; it's odi- ous ! " 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 honor of lead- ing in Miss B., who looked back rather angrily, I thought, at Captain Fizgig, because that gentleman had offered his 56 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 sev- eral 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 vong." We had plenty of champagne and old madeira with din- ner, 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, Tig- gins will give you an unlimited 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 ? " 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 eyebrows, in a girl. Qu'en dites-vous, Mr. Titmarsh, as Miss Brough would say ? " " I think it remarkably good claret, sir," says I. " Egad, you're the right sort of fellow ? " says the cap- AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 57 tain. " Volto sciolto, eh ? You respect our sleeping host yonder ? " " 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'll prove my confidence too." " As how ? " says I. " Why, sir, you must know that I come into ahem a considerable 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 ? I've had a university education, and have the feelings of a gentleman ; as much ay, perhaps, and more, than some members of an effete aristocracy." " Tidd, don't be severe ! " says the captain, drinking a tenth glass. " Well, Mr. Titmarsh, when of age I come into a consid- erable 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 ? " says I "in our office ? " " 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 Par- liament ; and then and then ! 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 ? " " 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 Parliament, 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. All I ask in a son-in-law is that he should be, as every one of you is, an honorable 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 58 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH you may tell Miss Brough if you like." And so presently this conversation 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 Knightsbridge, 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 all the members of the household ; except the French cook, Monsieur Nongtonpaw, whom I could see, from my chair, walking about in the shrubberies in his white night- cap, 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 behavior : 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 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 ribbon, or refrain from wearing his collar 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 harm- less 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 AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 59 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 honor 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 honor 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 relations 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 ? " " 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, ' Gentlemen, it is my object to increase the connec- tion 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 shareholder and officer of the establishment must exert himself, and bring us cus- 60 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH tomers, 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 share- holders : his very lodge-porter yonder is a shareholder ; and he thus endeavors 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, Tit- marsh,' 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 had a lesser bribe to offer 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 ? " "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-market have for increasing their connection. 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? 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 ? " "Yees, sure," says old Gates, grinning. He was a retired servant, with a large family come to him in his old age. AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 61 "May I ask you what your wages are, Mr. Gates, that you can lay by so much money, and purchase shares in our company ? " Gates told us his wages : and when we inquired whether they were paid regularly, swore that his master was the kindest gentleman 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 thou- sand pounds ; " and he went back to the house directly, and proposed for her. I thought it 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 engagement 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, 62 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 family ; the Hon. Henry Eingwood 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 iny 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 all 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 miser- able three thousand pounds. Well, sir, a fortnight after you was 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 ; ' he 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, AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 63 '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 OP SAMUEL TITMARSH'S LIFE. DON'T know how it was that in the course of the next six months Mr. Eoundhand, the actuary, who had been such a profound admirer of Mr. Brough and the West Diddlesex Asso- ciation, suddenly quarrelled with both, and taking his money out of the concern, he disposed of his 5,0001. 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. Abed- nego was first clerk, and your humble servant was second in the office, at a salary of 2501. a year. How unfounded were Mr. Koundhand s asper- sions 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 41. per cent., at the rate of SL per cent, per annum ; and I sent to my aunt 1201. sterling as the amount of the interest of the stock in my name. My excellent aunt, Mrs. Hoggarty, delighted beyond measure, sent me back 101. 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 5,0001. worth in the market at par, he said, 64 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 65 ' Well, if so, he would like a fair price for his, and would not mind disposing of 5,0001. 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 1501. I had 2501. a year, Miss Smith had 701. per annum to her fortune. What had I said should be my line of conduct whenever I could realize 3001. a year ? Gus, of course, and all the gents in our office through him, knew of my engagement with Mary Smith. Her father had been a commander in the navy and a very distinguished officer; and though Mary, as I have said, only brought me a fortune of 701, a year, and I, as every- body 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 friends 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. B rough of course was made aware of my approach- ing 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 2,3331. 6s. Sd. " Eemember," 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 Eng- land ; 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 mar- riage. 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 5 66 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH salary of 250Z. 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 Eomanis', 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. repre- sented, 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 thither. There was but little company when I went; and BfWMxtez 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 born 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 ill-humored than ever. But I could not help think- ing 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 disagree- able to Belinda, and though he must always love and value him, he begged him to discontinue his calls at the Rook- ery. 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 AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 67 called me, so much, and felt such, a warm sympathy in my well-being, that he insisted on my going down to Somerset- shire with a couple of months' leave : and away I went, as happy as a lark, with a couple of brand-new suits from Von Stiltz's in my trunk (I had them made, looking for- ward to a certain event), and inside the trunk Lieutenant Smith's fleecy hosiery; wrapping up a parcel of our pro- spectuses 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 Association 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 so that he could not eat a morsel of the muffins 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 coachman, to those I had the last time I mounted that coach, parting from my dear Mary, and coining 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 mem- ber, 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, 68 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH from Mrs. Bincer'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, Avould 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 was 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 colors; 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 in tri- umph at our village. 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 themselves on the road near the village ; and there was such a waving of hands and hand- kerchiefs : 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. Ah ! 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 AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 69 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 humbler house of the two, I need not say I preferred it far to Mrs. Hoggarty's more splendid one ; let alone the horrible Rosolio, of which I was obliged now to drink gallons. It was to Mrs. H.'s then we were driven ; she had pre- pared a great dinner that evening, and hired an extra waiter, and on getting out of the carriage, she gave a six- pence to Tom Wheeler, saying that was for himself, and that she would settle with Mrs. Eincer for the horses after- wards. 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, more- over, 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 pretti- est girl in Somersetshire. We were married from my mother's house, who 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 Titmarsh too, my dear fourth sister, as I afterwards learned. My aunt was very kind upon the marriage ceremony, 70 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 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 under- stand 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 hus- wife 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 will 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 Kosolio. 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 GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. CHAPTEE IX. BRINGS BACK SAM, HIS WIFE, AUNT, AND DIAMOND, TO LONDON. E pleased ourselves during the honeymoon with form- ing plans for our life in London, and a pretty para- dise did we build for our- selves ! Well, we were but forty years old between us ; and, for my part, I never - m wvkj found any harm come of B I 'I'^H^niw castle-building, but a great MfJfl m\ 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 dis- tance 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 neighbor- hood too, for he could not bear to go back to Bell Lane, 71 72 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 honey- moon 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 offended her, her fortune 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, post- ing 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 scold- ings 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 introduced 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 tell our director that I had brought my aunt with me, or mention my em- barrassments for money. He looked rather serious whsn 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 AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 73 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 the 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 Hog- garty should be subject to such horrible humiliation, while John Brough has a home to offer her, a humble, happy, Christian home, madam ; though unlike, perhaps, the splen- dor to which you have been accustomed in the course of your distinguished career. Isabella my love ! Belinda ! 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 silly child absolutely began to cry as she packed and toiled at aunt's enormous valises, yet she performed the work, and came down with a smil- ing 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, per- haps a little ashamed. " Hallo ! George, Frederic, Augus- tus, come upstairs this instant, and bring down the trunks of Mrs. Hoggarty of Castle Hoggarty, which this young lady will show you." Nay, so great was Mr. Brough's condescension, that when 74 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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'll show them a lesson of humility." Mrs. Brough was for running downstairs too, and tak- ing 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 office 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 ? 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 with fear and trembling ; and then Mrs. Sam Titmarsh related the circumstances which had occurred, and how Mrs. Hoggarty had been whisked away to Fulham in Mr. Brough's splendid carriage-and-four. " Let her go," I am sorry to say, said I ; and indeed we relished our veal-cut- lets and jam-pudding a great deal more than Mrs. Hoggarty did her dinner off plate at the Kookery. 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 without 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 AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 75 take a walk about five o'clock in the evening, on the left- hand side of Lamb's Conduit Street (as you go to Holborn) 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 off 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 bon- net, 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 I ? And in the twinkling of a pegpost, as Lord Duberley says, my gentleman was seized by the collar of his coat and found himself sprawling under a stand of hackney-coaches ; where all 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 " arretez," and " Fran- c.ais," and " champ-d'honneur ; " but we walked on, Gus put- ting 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 aunt's departure came a letter from her, of which I give a copy : MY DEAR NEPHEW, It was my earnest whish e'er this to have returned to London, where I am sure you and my niece Titmarsh 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 fanialy, can hardly manidge, I am sure, without me. " Tell her on no account to pay more thanG^d. for the prime pieces, 4f cZ. for soup meat ; and that the very best of London butter is to be had for 8%d. ; of course, for pudns and the kitcliin you'll 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 woar it already twice, at two ellygant (though quiat) evening-parties given by my hospatable 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, weighing, I'm sure, 15 Ibs., and never seen at table again ; not a bitt of pickled sammon the hole weak 76 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH afterwards. This kind of extravigance would just suit Mrs. Sam Tit- marsh, who, as I always say, burns 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 sorry 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, cumsumptive ; but gave me some pills and a draft w h made'me better. Please call upon him he lives at Pimlico, and you can walk out there after office hours and present him with 11. Is., with my compliments. I have no money here but a 101. 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 estab- lishment, I can assure you the sperrit is likewise cared for. Mr. B. reads and igspounds every morning; and o 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 Industria, meaning industry, on everything even on the chany juggs and things in my bedd-room. On Sunday we were favored 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 Ho^arty, I have always been a staunch supporter of the established Church of England and Ireland ; but I must say Mr. Wapshot' s stirring 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 prom- ised to box her years ; and would have left the house, had not Mr. B. taken my part, and Miss made me a suitable apollogy. " I don't know when I shall return to town, being made really so welcome here. Dr. Blogg says the air of Fulham is the best in the world for my sirntums; 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 wan- der 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 eveiy night, and of rainy days have a fire in the grate ; and let Mrs. Titmarsh look up my blue silk dress, and turn it against I come; and there is my purple spencer she can have for her- self; 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 acquaintances ; and am always Tour loving AUNT. " I have ordered a chest of the Rosolio to be sent from Somerset- shire. When it comes, please to send half down here (paying the car- riage, of course). 'Twill bean acceptable present to my kind enter- tainer, Mr. B." AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 77 This letter was brought to me by Mr. Brough himself at the office, who apologized to me for having broken the seal by inadvertence ; 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 Coffee-house," Cornhill, sent me word at the office that he wanted particu- larly 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 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 warehouse along with her furniture." "Well," says I, smiling, "she may part with as much Eosolio as she likes for me. I cede all my right." " Psha I " says Smithers, " it's not that ; though her fur- niture 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 else- where." 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 Fulham, 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 Broiigh ; 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 ? A panic 78 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH may take place ; and then these five hundred companies in which he is engaged may bring him to ruin. There's the Ginger Beer Company, of which Brough is a director : awk- ward reports are abroad concerning it. The Consolidated Baffin's Bay Muff and Tippet Company the shares are down very low, and Brough is a director there. The Patent Pump Company shares at 65, and a fresh call, which no- body will pay." " Nonsense, Mr. Smithers ! Has not Mr. Brough five hundred thousand pounds' worth of shares in the INDEPEN- DENT WEST DIDDLESEX, and is THAT at a discount ? Who recommended my aunt to invest her money in that specu- lation, I should like to know ? " I had him there. " Well, well, it is a very good speculation, certainly, and has brought you three hundred 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 fortune, do you ? " " 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 take your aunt away from the Rookery. She wrote to Mrs. S. a long account of a reverend gent with whom she walks out there, the Rev. Grimes Wapshot. That man has an eye upon her. He was tried at Lancaster in the year '14 for forgery, and narrowly es- caped 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." He 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 favors 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 se- crecy over a bottle." And so we parted till dinner-time. AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 79 The indefatigable lawyer pursued his attack after dinner, and was supported by Gus and by my wife too ; who cer- taiuly was disinterested in the matter more than disin- terested, for she would have given a great deal to be spared my aunt's company. But she said she saw the force of Mr. Sniithers'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 concerning 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 hack- ney-coach drove up to 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!" flung herself hysterically into my arms, and swore, almost choking, that she would never, never leave me. I could not understand the meaning of this extraordinary agitation on Mrs. Hoggarty's part, nor could any of us. She refused Mary's hand when the poor thing rather ner- vously offered it ; and when Gus timidly said, " I think, Sam, I'm rather in the way here, and perhaps had better 80 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH go," Mrs. H. looked him full 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. Hoggar- ty, very sarcastic. But Mary's speech and my aunt's were quite lost 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 protested 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 mat- ter as a very good joke, only the other year, when he showed me the letter of Hickson, Dixon, Paxton, and Jack- son, 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 Eookery, and I was determined 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 Rev. 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. "Well, I took the Fulham 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 jail in conse- quence.' I knew the fellow's history, for I had a writ out against him when he was a preacher at Clinton. I followed AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 81 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 fright- ened 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 honor 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 Rookery ; 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 cun- ning fellow. "As luck would have it," continued he, "Miss Brongh was in the drawing-room twangling on a guitar, and sing- ing most atrociously out of tune ; but as I entered at the door, I cried ' Hush ! ' to the footman, as loud as possible, stood stock-still, 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. 6 82 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH " ' 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 com- mand. ' I am Miss Brough, sir.' " ' I wish, madam, you would let me not breathe a word regarding my business until you have sung another charm- ing 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. Hog- garty, 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 insinu- ate). 'If she does not like us, why does she not leave us ? ' " ' 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 establish 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, l Ha, ha ! I know the minx's vile stratagems ; but thank heaven ! I have 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.' AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 83 "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 mar- ried person.' "Mrs. Hoggarty said she had an admirable cordial that she would send Mrs. Samuel Titmarsh, and she was per- fectly 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 succeeded in making an impression upon your niece. His name is Hoskins, 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 im- agine 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. Srnithers," 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 horse-whip- ping 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. E took a genteel house in Bernard Street, Russell 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 house-keepers, as we had only to pay the carriage of the goods from Bristol. When I brought Mrs. H. her third half-year's dividend, hav- ing not for four months touched a shilling of her money, I must say she gave me 501. of the SQL, 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 man- sion 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 grays, was entering the lodge- gate ; and I should like to have seen the looks of these two gentlemen, as the one- was carrying 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 84 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 85 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 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- humor 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 shareholder in the company ; that I de- fied 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 in- grate had turned on him ; that he was accustomed to wrong and undutifulness 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 Fulham. 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, com- mission on the sale." There might be some truth in this, I thought ; at any rate, when rogues fall out, honest men come by their own : 86 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 for- tune that Mr. B. showed his cloven foot ; for, proposing, as usual, that I should purchase shares with it in our com- pany, 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 man- ner to me. No more holidays, no more advances of money, had I ; on the contrary, the private clerkship 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 ! 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. Roundhand's abuse had had some influence against the director, certainly ; for he hinted at malversation of shares : but the company still stood as united as the Hand-in-Hand, and as firm as the Eock. To return to the state of affairs in Bernard Street, Russell Square : My aunt'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 Charleville's time ; and sung with a cracked voice, till it was all that we could do to refrain from 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 vil- lage, 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, all 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 ; arid, I am sorry to say, turned out with such a pair of red cheeks as Nature never AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 87 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 rani- pant and a hog in armor. 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 Hog- garty ! 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 Xew 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 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 Ana- baptists ; and that day, at least, Mary and I had to our- selves, for we chose to have seats at the Foundling, and heard the charming music there, and my wife used to look wistfully in 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 inex- pressible joy. I remember she had the news to give me on the very day when the Muff and Tippet Company shut up, after swal- lowing 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 tom- ahawked at all ; but that the whole had been invented in a 88 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH house in Crutched Friars. Well, I pitied poor Tidd, whose 20,OOOZ. were thus gone in a year, and whom I met in the City that day with a most ghastly face. He had 1000J. of debts, he said, and talked of shooting himself ; but he was only arrested, and passed a long time in the Fleet. Mary's delightful news, however, 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 our 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 intended gradually to re- tire from the other affairs. Indeed, such an association as ours was enough work for any man, let alone the parlia- mentary duties which Brough was called on to perform, and the seventy-two law-suits which burst upon him as princi- pal 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 Tiptoff's 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 her ladyship and her granddaughters in London, than she ordered the fly be- fore mentioned, and left cards at their respective houses : her card, that is " Mrs. HOGGARTY of CASTLE HOGGARTY," 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 encouragement; but that functionary, no doubt struck by the oddity of her appearance, placed him- self in the front of the door, and declared that he had posi- tive orders not to admit any strangers to his lady. On which Mrs. Hoggarty clenched her fist out of the coach- AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 89 window, and promised that she would have him turned away. Yellowplush 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 honorable 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 con- tents ; for when Solomon brought up the note on the silver tea-tray as usual, my aunt, seeing Mr. Preston's seal and name at the corner 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 dinner. She never paid the sixpence, though she lost, but contented herself by abusing Mary all day, and said I was a poor-spirited 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. Percival. And now I should be glad to enlarge upon that experi- ence in genteel life which I obtained through the perse- verance of Mrs. Hoggarty ; but it must be owned that my opportunities were but few, lasting only for the brief pe- riod 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 them- selves connected with the aristocracy, viz., as members of noble families, or as footmen or hangers-on thereof, natu- rally 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 establishment called the crush- room, where the ladies and gents after the music and danc- ing await the arrival 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, 90 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH and had entirely on this occasion thought fit to forget her connection with the Titinarshes and Hoggartys. Far from recognizing 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 aunt perceive the vani- ties of this wicked world, as she said, and threw her more and more into really serious society. She formed several very valuable acquaintances, she said, at the Independent Chapel ; and among others, lighted upon her friend of the Kookery, 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 favorite preacher had been tried for forgery, she re- plied that she considered the story an atrocious calumny ; and he answered by saying that Mary and I were in lament- able 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 gentleman's guidance and advice, she, after a time, separated from St. Pancras alto- gether " sat under him'' as the phrase is, regularly thrice a week began to labor 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 Eev. Grimes Wapshot drank a deal of brandy-aud-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 embar- rassed in my circumstances, and was much harassed both as a private and public character. As regards the former, Mrs. Hoggarty had given me 50Z. ; but out of that 50Z. I had to pay a journey post from Som- ersetshire, all the carriage of her goods from the country, the painting, papering, and carpeting of my house, the brandy and strong liquors drunk by the Rev. Grimes and his friends (for the reverend gent said that Eosolio did not AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 91 agree with him) ; and finally, a thousand small bills and ex* penses 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 Stilz, 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 first-rate shops, you must pay for them; and don't expect that / am to abet your extrava- gance, or give you a shilling more than the munificent sum I pay you for board and lodging ! " How could I tell Mary of this behavior of Mrs. Hog- garty, and Mary in such a delicate condition ? 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 Highrnore went away. Abednego became head-clerk: and one day old Abednego came to the place and was shown into the direc- tors' private room ; when he left it, he came trembling, chattering, and cursing downstairs ; ^,nd had begun, " Shen- tlemen " 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 forever, and I became head clerk with 4001. 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 depot, adjoining. In the former was 20,0001. worth of the finest Dutch wax, which the voracious element attacked and devoured in a twinkling. The latter esti- mable gentleman had just completed 40,000 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 whiskey in the ware- house of Messrs. Shadrach, and incautiously looked for the 92 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH liqiior with a lighted candle. The man was brought to our office by his employers ; and certainly, as we all could testify, was even then in a state of frightful intoxica- tion. As if this were not sufficient, in the obituary was an- nounced the demise of Alderman Pash Aldermany Cally- 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 5,000. And now I saw very well the truth of a remark of Gus's viz., that life-insurance 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,OOOZ., 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, laughing 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 Saturday, 5,000. from my friend Mr. Titmarsh, who is now head clerk here. As for the accident which has happened to Messrs. Shadraeh 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 satisfac- torily 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, AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 93 yet we can afford it, gentlemen. John Brough can afford it himself, for the matter of that, and not be very much embarrassed ; and we must learn to bear ill-fortune 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 connec- tion with common 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 found its way into the newspapers of that very evening; nor can I think who gave a report of it, for none of our gents left the office that day until the evening papers had appeared. But there was the speech ay, and at the week's end, although Round- hand 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 Eoundhand 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 look- ing me hard in the face, " did you ever hear of the fate of the great Mr. Silberschmidt, of London?" Of course I had. Mr. Silberschmidt, the Eothschild of his day (in- deed I have heard the latter famous gent was originally a clerk in Silberschmidt's house) Silberschmidt, fancying he could not meet his engagements, committed 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 94 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH known wealth. Now, unless I have time I cannot pay : and the long and short of the matter is, that if I cannot procure 5,OOOZ. before Saturday, our concern is ruined ! " " What ! the West Diddlesex ruined ? " says I, thinking of my poor mother's annuity. " Impossible ! our business is splendid ! " " We must have 5,OOOZ. on Saturday, and we are saved ; and if you will, as you can, get it for me, I will give you 10,0001. for the money ! " B. then showed me to a fraction the accounts of the con- cern, and his own private account; proving beyond the possibility of a doubt, that with the 5,000^. our office must be set a-going ; and without it, that the concern must stop. No matter how he proved 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 day 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 3,0001. scrip shares that I possessed, called me an atrocious cheat and heart- less 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 pawn- broker, a sum of 1,2001. 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 pulled out a 51. 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 AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 95 a few shillings the finest fortune in Europe was to be overthrown, why Gates and his woman thought that they should corne 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 51. " Gates," said he, " that 51. 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 inite. 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 4,000. ; it is all 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 could trust 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 you 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 down- stairs, 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 com- fortably, a knock was heard at the door, and a gentle- man desired to speak to me in the parlor. It was Mr. Aminadab of Chancery Lane, who arrested me as a share- holder of the Independent West Diddlesex Association, at the suit of Von Stiltz of Clifford street, Tailor and Draper. 96 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. I called down Smithers, and told Mm 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 Off, 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 FOB A DINNER. " $S s-jf#MJ^\ N that fatal Saturday evening, jfjitgi^Jl 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 office; and my poor Mary made up a little portmanteau of clothes, and tied a comforter round my neck, and bade my companion particularly to keep the coach-windows shut : which injunction the grinning wretch promised to obey. Our jour- ney was not long; it was only a shilling fare to Cursitor 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 7 97 98 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 all sorts of trumpery pictures in tawdry frames (how different from those capital performances of my cousin Michael Angelo !) ; on the mantle-piece huge French clocks, vases, and candlesticks ; on the sideboards, enormous trays of Birmingham plated-ware : for Mr. Aniinadab not only arrested those who could not pay money, but lent it to those who could; and had already, in the way of trade, sold and bought these articles many times over. I agreed to take the back-parlor 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 parlor, where Mr. Aniinadab, bidding me take heart, told me I should have a dinner for nothing with party who had just arrived. I did not want for dinner, bu 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 parlor, at eight o'clock in the evening, four gentlemen, just about to sit down to dinner. Surprising ! there was Mr. B., a gentleman of fashion, who had only within half an hour arrived in a post-chaise, witsh his companion Mr. Lock, an officer of Horsham jail. Mr. B. was arrested in this wise : He was a careless, good- humored gentleman, and had indorsed bills to a large amount for a friend ; who, a man of high family and un- questionable honor, 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 friend whom he obliged; for, instead of being in London with the money for the pay- ment 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 jail ; had a relapse of his complaint, and when sufficiently recovered, was brought up to London to the house of Mr. Aniinadab ; where I fouud him a pale, thin, good-humored, lost young AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 99 man : he was lying on a sofa, 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 accounts with the bailiff, and the latter ar- ranged all his earthly accounts : for after he went from the sponging-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 ; with many friends, no doubt, and a good reputation. I wonder whether the man sleeps easily and eats with 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 sponging-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 sponging-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 100 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's ; 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 all right," says Aminadab ; " let him alone." "In for ivhat?" 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 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 understand 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 sup- posed 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 AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 101 fresh bottle of Burgundy for Mr. Hoskins." And before he knew where he was, there was Gus for the firsc time in his life drinking Clos-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 reflex- unsh 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 share- holder; 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 answera- ble for their bills, I determined to send her a letter remind- ing 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 gentle- man. I wrote to her, therefore, begging her to pay all these debts, and promised myself on Monday morning again to be with my dear wife. Gus carried off the letter, and promised to deliver it in Bernard Street after church-time ; taking care that Mary should know nothing at all of the painful situation in which I was placed. It was near mid- night when we parted, and I tried to sleep as well as I could in the dirty little sofa-bedstead of Mr. Aminadab's back-parlor. That morning was fine and sunshiny, and I heard all the bells ringing cheerfully for church, and longed to be walk- ing 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 ? This very court was like a cage ! 102 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. Great iron bars covered it in from one end to another ; and here it was that Mr. Aminadab's jail-birds took the air. They had seen me reading out of the prayer-book at the back-parlor 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 silly fellow) ; a third wondered that I took to my prayer-book yet. "When do you mean, sir?" says I to the fellow 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 grays 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. Amina- dab ; 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 pro- party, you wished to murdar me, and so stepp into it, you are dissa- pointed. Your villiany and ingratitude would have murdard me, had I not, by Heaven's grace, been inabled to look for consalation else- where. "For nearly a year I have been a martar to you. I gave up every- thing, 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 rispectable. I put up with the airs and impertanencies of Mrs. Tit- marsh ; I loaded her and you with presents and bennafits. I sacra- fised 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 THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 103 and prevent, if possible, that waist and ixtravygance which I prophy- cied 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 famalies. " And now you have the audassaty, being placed in prison justly for your crimes, for cheating me of 3,0001., 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 ; I, 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 your lady to sleep in the streets, I give you warning that I shall remove it all to-mor- row. " Mr. Smithers will tell you that I had intended to leave you my in- tire fortune. I have this morning, in his presents, solamly toar up my will ; and hereby renounce all connection with you and your beggarly family. " SUSAN HOGG AKTY. " P. S. I took a viper into my bosom, and it stung 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 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 humor, 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 104 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH to Mrs. Hoggarty ; I would have removed all your difficul- ties ; I Avould have lent you the pitiful sum of money my- self." "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 observed." " 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 ? Bah ! Mrs. Sam Titmarsh is a minor, and can't touch a shilling of it. No, no, no med- dling with minors for me ! But stop ! your mother has a house and shop in our village. Get me a mortgage of that " " I'll do no such thing, sir," says I. " My mother has suffered quite enough on my score already, and has my sis- ters to provide for; and I will thank you, Mr. Smithers, not to breathe a syllable to her regarding my present situ- ation." "You speak like a man of honor, sir," says Mr. Smithers, "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 Blather- wick, who will do everything 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 mat- ter gently to my wife, fearing lest Mrs. Hoggarty should speak of it abruptly to her ; as I knew in her anger she AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 105 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 corner, as I tried my best to console her. The next morning I was favored with a visit from Mr. Blatherwick ; 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 appearance (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 ? " 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 wagon-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 351., dear Sam. Isn't it a blessing ? " " Will you pay my bill, Mr. What-d'ye-call-'im ? " here cried Mr. Aminadab, flinging open the door (he had been consulting with Mr. Blatherwick, I suppose). "I want the room for a gentleman. I guess it's too dear for the like of you." And here will you believe it ? the man handed me a bill 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 106 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 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 prison 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 ?mhappy, 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. HE 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 million 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 nau. some supporters in the prison ; where, strange to say, it procured me consideration of which, as may be sup- posed, I was little inclined to avail myself. Mr. Amina- dab, 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 considered by the turnkeys that I was a fellow of exquisite dissimulation, 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 gentlemen with Mr. Brough I have never been able to learn. It was proved by the books that large sums 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 amount. On the day I went to the Bankruptcy Court to be examined, Mr. Abednego and 107 108 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH the two gentlemen from Houndsditch were present to swear 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 produced 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 de- mand. On this they disappeared altogether, and no more was ever heard of their losses. I am inclined to believe that our director had had money from Abednego had given him shares as bonus and security had been sud- denly obliged to redeem these shares with ready money ; and so had precipitated the ruin of himself and the con- cern. It is needless to say here in what a multiplicity of companies Brough was engaged. That in which poor Mr. Ticld invested his money, did not pay 2d. in the pound; and that was the largest dividend paid 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 accompanying me to Basinghall Street; and so did my friend Gus Hoskins, that true and honest fellow. If you had seen the crowd that was assembled, and the hubbub that was made as I was brought up ! " Mr. Titmarsh," 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 prin- cipal 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 com- fort 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 contin- ued : and all this while Mary was anxiously looking in his face, and then in mine, as pale as death ; while Gus, on AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 109 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. Polo- nius, the celebrated jeweller, likewise; to fashionable milliners and dressmakers, moreover ; and all this upon a salary of 2001. per annum. For so young a gentleman, it must be confessed you have 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 affairs of the Company ? 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 ; at which the court burst out laughing, and this gave me courage to proceed. " My mother, sir, four years since, having a legacy of 400 left to her, advised with her solicitor, Mr. Smithers, how she should dispose of this sum ; and as the Indepen- dent 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 pay- ing, 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 110 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH the heads of twelve of your fellow-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." " Well, sir, having procured this sum of money, you were straightway taken into Mr. Brough's confidence. You were received into his house, and from third clerk speedily became head clerk ; in which post you were found 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 unwil- ling to make a clean breast of it," said I, pressing Mary's hand. " I certainly was the head clerk. And why ? Be- cause the other gents left the office. I certainly was received into Mr. Brough's house. And why ? Because, sir, my aunt had more money to lay out, I see it all clearly now, though I could not understand it then ; and the proof that Mr. Brough wanted my aunt's money, and not me, is 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 prevented 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 livelihood, my mother placed her little money with 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 disgraced and ruined man. Is there any one present, however much he has suf- fered 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 newspaper reporter that was sitting hard by, "your AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. Ill 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 gentle- men 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, from 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 investment, 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 share- holders 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 his victims round this table a year hence ; and so, I suppose, to the end. And now let's go to business, gentle- men, 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 chil- dren, houseless and penniless in his old age. Captain Sparr was in this neighborhood, but by no means so friendly dis- posed ; for while Gates touched his hat, as if I had been a lord, the little captain came forward threatening with his bamboo-cane, and swearing with great oaths that I was an 112 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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-noth- ing," 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 grand- mother 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 succor ! " 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 condition 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 the sadness, strangely enough, as I thought, but for the gayety 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 ! AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 113 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, un- happy. 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 aris- tocracy 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 dress- ing-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 f ellows 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 born. 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 Lon- don who would procure it. There was, however, one whom I did not know, and that was old Mr. Hoskins, the leather- seller of Skinner Street, a kind fat gentleman, who brought 8 his fat wife to see Mrs. Titmarsh ; and though the lady gave herself rather patronizing 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 sympathize 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 refuse 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 gayly did we pace up and down Bridge Street and Chatham Place, to be sure ! and yet, in truth, I was a beg- gar, 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 pounds, 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 back ; 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 gen- tleman 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 AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 115 into the Gazette. Mr. Macraw, M. P. and King's Counsel, had not a single guinea in the world but what he received for attending 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 101. 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," suggested Mr. Hoskins, senior, "should you not now en- deavor 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 G-us in a coach, to pay a visit to those persons. Little did I think a year before that the daughter of the gal- lant 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. "You speak, Mr. Augustus," at last said she, sobbing ; and so G-us told me the circumstan- ces 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 born. I did not know whether to be sad or happy, as they showed me the little weakly thing ; but Mary was the hap- 116 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH piest 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 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 chris- tening, 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 ? 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 perplex- ities 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 meas- ure to wait on the mother and the child. The room, then, was made ready ; and though I took some pains not to speak of the arrangement too suddenly to Mary, yet there 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 pos- sible. " 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 prisons', and doctors' fees had diminished the sum of money which she brought me when we came from the Fleet. AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 117 It was not, however, destined that she and her child should inhabit that little garret. We were to leave our lodgings on Monday morning ; but on Saturday evening the child was seized with convulsions, and all Sunday 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 almost faded ; but I do believe that every day of her life the mother thinks of the first-born that was with her for so short a while : many and 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 coffin. It has happened to me to forget the child's birth- day, 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 inexpres- sibly 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 men- tioned 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 experience 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 child lay there in its wicker cradle, with its sweet fixed 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 118 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TIT MARSH 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 pawn- broker'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 persuaded her to go down stairs to the landlady's parlor ; and mean- while the necessary preparations were made, and the poor child consigned to its coffin. The next day, after all was over, Mrs. Stokes gave me back three out of the seven guineas ; and then I could not AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 119 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 down stairs ; and we quite forgot all 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 child, and she felt uneasy about my silence ; and meet- ing Mr. Smithers in the street, asked from him news con- cerning me : whereupon that gentleman, with some little show of alarm, told her that he thought her daughter-in-law was confined in an uncomfortable 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. Eather 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 still. 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 mes- sage from my wife, who sincerely commiserates your loss, and begs you will 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. WHICH IT IS SHOWN THAT A GOOD WIFE IS THE BEST DIAMOND A MAN CAN WEAR IN HIS BOSOM. ES. TITMAESH, 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 semi- nary, ma'am, was concluded this morning, your poor daughter-in- law was glad to take shelter in my humble parlor, 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 born 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 downstairs 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 din- ner, 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. 120 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH. 121 " Well, she would not speak, and I thought it best not to interrupt 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 news- paper, ma'am, it always comes from three to four, and I began a-reading of it. But I couldn't read much, for think- ing 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. " ' 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 was 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 Tiptoff 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. Tit- marsh,' said I, ' you know how poor and how good your husband is ? ' " ' 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 little 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 fellow in livery opens the door, and says, ' You're the forty-fifth as come about this 'ere place ; but, 122 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH fust, let me ask you a preliminary question. Are you a Hirishwornan ? ' " ' 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 up- stairs ; but I sent away forty-four happlicants, because they was Hirish.' "We were taken up stairs 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 doc- tor 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. 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 small-pox, married to a corporal in the Life- guards, 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 gentle- man in black came in from the next room, treading as if on velvet. The woman got up and made him a low courtesy, and folding her arms on her great broad chest, repeated the speech she had make 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 gentleman was evident- ly the apothecary. He looked hard at her and said, ' "Well, my good woman, and are you come about the place too ? ' " c Yes, sir,' says she, blushing. "'You seem very delicate. How old is your child? How many have you had ? 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 AND THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. 123 would be unsuccessful, as Mrs. Horner came very strongly recommended from the Duchess of Doneaster, whose rela- tive Lady Tiptoff was ; and presently 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, but still kept looking at the baby ; and the great big grenadier of a Mrs. Horner looked an- grily at her. " ' Poor thing ! ' says my lady, taking Mrs. T.'s hand very kind, ' she seems very young. How old are you, my dear ? ' " ' Five weeks and two days ! ' says your wife, sobbing. " Mrs. Horner burst into a laugh ; but there was a tear in my lady's eyes, for she knew what the poor thing was a-thinking of. " ' Silence, woman ! ' says she angrily to the great grena- dier-woman; and at this moment the child in the next room began crying. "As soon as your wife heard the noise, she sprung 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. " When 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 124 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 courtesy. " ' Not in the least ! ' answers my lady, haughtily, and the grenadier left the room : and then I told all your story at full 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 hack- ney-coach, as he said he must apologize to you for keeping your wife away." I could not help, in my own mind, connecting this strange AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 125 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 diamond-pin, 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 subject. If you love a person, is it not a pleasure to feel obliged to him ? And this, in consequence, I felt. I was proud and happy at being able to think that my dear wife should be able to labor 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 will recommend the reader to consult that admirable chap- ter 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 labor 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 Alinack'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 win- dows, and then at the black man who swept the crossing. I never gave him anything ; but I envied him his trade and 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 lit- tle boy often to breathe the air of such a close place as Salis- bury Square my dear Mary came in the thundering car- riage 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 from Grosvenor Square to Ludgate Hill. Here, meanwhile, my good mother kept me company ; and what should we read of one day but the marriage of Mrs. Hoggarty and the Rev. Grimes Wapshot ! My mother, who never loved Mrs. H., now said that she should repent all 126 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 diamonds 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 Eeverend 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 Poyn- ings was not christened until the month of June. A duke was one godfather, and Mr. Edmond Preston, the State Sec- retary, 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 his- tory ; 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 fimil- iar with her I've tried " " Have you, sir ? " said I. " Don't look so indignant ! I can't, I say, be fimiliar with her as I am with you. There's a somethink in 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, " tell 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 gentleman, 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 and then a twenty-pound note ; but she declined either : but AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 127 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 tell 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 up stairs 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 will not fail to keep you in his mind." "Mrs. Titmarsh will do that," says my lady ; " for Edmund is wofully smitten with her ! " And Mary blushed, and I laughed, and we were all very happy : and sure enough there came from Richmond a letter to me, stating that I was ap- pointed fourth clerk in the Tape and Sealing-wax Office, with a salary of SOL 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 imag- ined ; for I do believe he invited his brother-in-law to Rich- mond 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'll make your husband consul at Timbuctoo ! He shall never know of it, I tell 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 128 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH 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 ? " " 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 Jearnes the foot- man 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 through our friend's unhappy attachment ; and Mrs. Titmarsh has only laughed at him, so there is no harm 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 conies 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 val- uable, I should blush every day I entered the office-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 well 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, Tit- marsh, and I am wrong ; and let me tell you in confidence, that I think you are a very honest fellow. You shan't lose by your honesty, I promise you." AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 129 Nor did I : for I am at this present moment Lord Tip- toff's steward and right-hand man : and am I not a happy father ? and is not my wife loved and respected by all the country ? and is not Gus Hoskins, my brother-in-law, part- ner with his excellent father in the leather way, and the delight of all his nephews and nieces for his tricks and fun? As for Mr. Brough, that gentleman's history would fill 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 ad- mire 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 faithful to him. With respect to Koundhand, I had best also speak tenderly. The case of Koundhand v. 130 THE HISTORY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH Tidd is still in the memory of the public ; nor can I ever understand how Bill 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 transaction. Smithers had also en- deavored to pay his court to me, once when I went down to Somersetshire ; but I cut his pretensions short, as I have shown. "He it was," said Mr. Wapshot, "who induced Mrs. Grimes ( Mrs. Hoggarty she was then) to purchase 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 management of her landed property, he deter- mined 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 proceedings 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. Dur- ing 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 dis- guise 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 re- monstrances, but am as a lamb in her hands, and she leads me whithersoever she pleases." Mr. Wapshot concluded his tale by borrowing half-a-crown 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. AND THE GREAT HOGG ARTY DIAMOND. 131 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 all earthly resentments were forgotten, and proposed to come and live with us ; paying us, of course, a handsome remuneration. But this offer my wife and I respectfully declined ; and once more she altered her will, which once more she had made in our favor; called us ungrateful wretches and pampered meni- als, and left all her property to the Irish Hoggarties. But seeing my wife one day in a carriage with Lady Tiptoff, 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 death-bed, and left me the farms of Slopperton and Squashtail, with all her sav- ings 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, conies down and passes a few months with us) says that my Memoirs may be of some use to the public (meaning, I suspect, to him- self) ; and if so, I am glad to serve him and them, and here- by take farewell : 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 capi- talists 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 spec- ulation, of which the conduct is not perfectly clear to them, and of which the agents are not perfectly open and loyal. THE RAVENSWING. THE RAVENSWING. CHAPTER I. WHICH IS ENTIRELY INTRODUCTORY CONTAINS AN AC- COUNT OF MISS CRUMP, HER SUITORS, AND HER FAMILY CIRCLE. N a certain quiet and seques- tered nook of the retired village of London perhaps in the neighborhood of Berkeley Square, or at any rate somewhere near Bur- lington Gardens there was once a house of entertain- ment called the "Bootjack Hotel." Mr. Crump, the landlord, had, in the outset of life, performed the duties of boots in some inn even more frequented than his own, and, far from being ashamed of his origin, as many persons are in the days of their prosperity, had thus solemnly recorded it over the hospitable gate of his hotel. Crump married Miss Budge, so well known to the admirers of the festive dance on the other side of the water as Miss Delancy ; and they had one daughter, named Morgiana, after that celebrated part in the "Forty Thieves" which Miss Budge performed with unbounded applause both at the "Surrey " and "The Wells." Mrs. Crump sat in a little bar, profusely ornamented with pictures of the dancers of all ages, from Hillisberg, Eose, Parisot, who plied the light fantastic toe in 1805, down to the Sylphides 135 136 MEN'S WIVES. of our day. There was in the collection a charming por- trait of herself done by De Wilde ; she was in the dress of Morgiana, and in the act of pouring, to very slow music, a quantity of boiling oil into one of the forty jars. In this sanctuary she sat with black eyes, black hair, a purple face and a turban, and morning, noon, or night, as you went into the parlor of the hotel, there was Mrs. Crump taking tea (with a little something in it), looking at the fashions, or reading Cumberland's " British Theatre." The Sunday Times was her paper, for she voted the Dispatch, that journal which is taken in by most ladies of her profession, to be vulgar and Radical, and loved the theatrical gossip in which the other mentioned journal abounds. The fact is that the "Royal Bootjack," though a humble, was a very genteel house ; and a very little persuasion would induce Mr. Crump, as he looked at his own door in the sun, to tell you that he had himself once drawn off with that very bootjack the top-boots of His Royal High- ness the Prince of Wales and the first gentleman in Europe. While, then, the houses of entertainment in the neighbor- hood were loud in their pretended liberal politics, the "Bootjack" stuck to the good old Conservative line, and was only frequented by such persons as were of that way of thinking. There were two parlors, much accustomed, one for the gentlemen of the shoulder-knot, who came from the houses of their employers hard by ; another for some "gents who used the 'ouse," as Mrs. Crump would say (heaven bless her ! ) in her simple Cockniac dialect, and who formed a little club there. I forgot to say that while Mrs. C. was sipping her eternal tea or washing up her endless blue china, you might often hear Miss Morgiana employed at the little red silk cottage piano, singing, " Come where the haspens quiver," or " Bonny lad, march over hill and furrow," or " My art and lute," or any other popular piece of the day. And the dear girl sung with very considerable skill too, for she had a fine loud voice, which, if not always in tune, made up for that defect by its great energy and activity ; and Morgiana was not content with singing the mere tune, but gave every one of the roulades, flourishes, and ornaments as she heard them at the theatres by Mrs. Humby, Mrs. Waylett, or Madame Vestris. The girl had a fine black eye like her mamma, a grand enthusiasm for the stage, as every actor's child will have, and, if the truth must be known, had THE RAVENSWING. 137 appeared many and many a time at the theatre in Cather- ine Street, in minor parts first, and then in Little Pickle, in Desdemona, in Rosina, and in Miss Foote's part where she used to dance : I have not the name to my hand, but think it is Davidson. Four times in the week, at least, her mother and she used to sail off at night to some place of public amusement, for Mrs. Crump had a mysterious acquaintance with all sorts of theatrical personages; and the gates of her old haunt, "The Wells," of the "Cobourg" (by the kind permission of Mrs. Davidge), nay, of the " Lane " and the " Market " themselves, flew open before her " Open ses- ame," as the robbers' door did to her colleague, Ali Baba (Hornbuckle), in the operatic piece in which she was so famous. Beer was Mr. Crump's beverage, variegated by a little gin in the evenings ; and little need be said of this gentle- man except that he discharged his duties honorably, and filled the president's chair at the club as completely as it could possibly be filled; for he could not even sit in it in his great-coat, so accurately was the seat adapted to him. His wife and daughter, perhaps, thought somewhat slightingly of him, for he had no literary tastes, and had never been at a theatre since he took his bride from one. He was valet to Lord Slapper at the time, and certain it is that his lordship set him up in the " Bootjack," and that stories had been told. But what are such to you or me ? Let by-gones be by-gones ; Mrs. Crump was quite as honest as her neighbors, and Miss had 5QQL, to be paid down on the day of her wedding. Those who know the habits of the British tradesman are aware that he has gregarious propensities like any lord in the land ; that he loves a joke, that he is not averse to a glass ; that after the day's toil he is happy to consort with men of his degree ; and that as society is not so far ad- vanced among us as to allow him to enjoy the comforts of the splendid club-houses, which are open to many persons with not a tenth part of his pecuniary means, he meets his friends in the cosey tavern parlor, where a neat sanded floor, a large Windsor chair, and a glass of hot something and water, make him as happy as any of the clubmen in their magnificent saloons. At the " Bootjack " was, as we have said, a very genteel and select society, called the " Kidney Club," from the fact that on Saturday evenings a little graceful supper of broiled 138 MEN'S WIVES. kidneys was usually discussed by the members of the club. Saturday was their grand night ; not but that they met on all other nights in the week when inclined for festivity : and indeed some of them could not come on Saturdays in the summer, having elegant villas in the suburbs, where they passed the six-and-thirty hours of recreation that are happily to be found at the end of every week. There was Mr. Balls, the great grocer of South Audley Street, a warm man, who, they say, had his 20,OOOZ. ; Jack Snaffle, of the mews hard by, a capital fellow for a song ; Clinker, the ironmonger : all married gentlemen, and in the best line of business ; Tressle, the undertaker, &c. No liveries were admitted into the room, as may be imagined, but one or two select butlers and major-domos joined the circle ; for the persons composing it knew very well how important it was to be on good terms with these gentlemen ; and many a time my lord's account would never have been paid, and my lady's large order never have been given, but for the conversation which took place at the "Bootjack," and the friendly intercourse subsisting between all the members of the society. The tip-top men of the society were two bachelors, and two as fashionable tradesmen as any in the town : Mr. Woolsey, from Stultz's, of the famous house of Linsey, Woolsey and Co., of Conduit Street, Tailors; and Mr. Eglantine, the celebrated perruquier and perfumer of Bond Street, whose soaps, razors, and patent ventilating scalps are known throughout Europe. Linsey, the senior partner of the tailors' firm, had his handsome mansion in Regent's Park, drove his buggy, and did little more than lend his name to the house. Woolsey lived in it, was the working man of the firm, and it was said that his cut was as magni- ficent as that of any man in the profession. "Woolsey and Eglantine were rivals in many ways, rivals in fashion, rivals in wit, and, above all, rivals for the hand of an ami- able young lady whom we have already mentioned, the dark-eyed songstress, Morgiana Crump. They were both desperately in love with her, that was the truth ; and each, in the absence of the other, abused his rival heartily. Of the hairdresser, Woolsey said that as for Eglantine being his real name, it was all in his (Mr. Woolsey's) eye ; that he was in the hands of the Jews, and his stock and grand shop eaten up by usury. And with regard to Woolsey, Eglantine remarked that his pretence of being descended THE RAVENSWING. 139 from the Cardinal was all nonsense ; that he was a partner, certainly, in the firm, but had only a sixteenth share: and that the firm could never get their moneys in, and had an immense number of bad debts in their books. As is usual, there was a great deal of truth and a great deal of malice in these tales; however, the gentlemen were, take them all in all, in a very fashionable way of business, and had their claims to Miss Morgiana's hand backed by the parents. Mr. Crump was a partisan of the tailor; while Mrs. C. was a strong advocate for the claims of the enticing perfumer. Now, it was a curious fact, that these two gentlemen were each in need of the other's services Woolsey being afflicted with premature baldness, or some other necessity for a wig still more fatal Eglantine being a very fat man, who required much art to make his figure at all decent. He wore a brown frock-coat and frogs, and attempted by all sorts of contrivances to hide his obesity; but Woolsey's remark, that, dress as he would, he would always look like a snob, and that there was only one man in England who could make a gentleman of him, went to the perfumer's soul ; and if there was one thing on earth he longed for (not including the hand of Miss Crump), it was to have a coat from Linsey's, in which costume he was sure that Mor- giana would not resist him. If Eglantine was uneasy about the coat, on the other hand he attacked Woolsey atrociously on the score of his wig; for though the latter went to the best makers, he never could get a peruke to sit naturally upon him ; and the unhappy epithet of Mr. Wiggins, applied to him on one occasion by the barber, stuck to him ever after in the club, and made him writhe when it was uttered. Each man would have quitted the " Kidneys " in disgust long since, but for the other, for each had an attraction in the place, and dared not leave the field in possession of his rival. To do Miss Morgiana justice, it must be said that she did not encourage one more than another ; but as far as accept- ing eau-de-Cologne and hair-combs from the perfumer, some opera tickets, a treat to Greenwich, and a piece of real Genoa velvet for a bonnet (it had originally been intended for a waistcoat), from the admiring tailor, she had been equally kind to each, and in return had made each a present of a lock of her beautiful glossy hair. It was all she had to give, poor girl ! and what could she do but gratify her 140 MEN'S WIVES. admirers by this cheap and artless testimony of her regard ? A pretty scene and quarrel took place between the rivals on the day when they discovered that each was in possession of one of Morgiana's ringlets. Such, then, were the owners and inmates of the little "Bootjack," from whom and which, as this chapter is ex- ceedingly discursive and descriptive, we must separate the reader for a while, and carry him it is only into Bond Street, so no gentleman need be afraid carry him into Bond Street, where some other personages are awaiting his consideration. Not far from Mr. Eglantine's shop in Bond Street, stand, as is very well known, the Windsor chambers. The West Diddlesex Association (Western Branch), the British and Foreign Soap Company, the celebrated attorneys Kite and Levison, have their respective offices here ; and as the names of the other inhabitants of the chambers are not only painted on the walls, but also registered in Mrs. Boyle's " Court Guide," it is quite unnecessary that they should be repeated here. Among them, on the entresol (between the splendid saloons of the Soap Company on the first floor, with their statue of Britannia presenting a packet of the soap to Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, and the West Diddlesex Western Branch on the basement) lives a gen- tleman by the name of Mr. Howard Walker. The brass plate on the door of that gentleman's chambers had the word " Agency " inscribed beneath his name ; and we are therefore at liberty to imagine that he followed that myste- rious occupation. In person Mr. Walker was very genteel ; he had large whiskers, dark eyes (with a slight cast in them), a cane, and a velvet waistcoat. He was a member of a club ; had an admission to the opera, and knew every face behind the scenes ; and was in the habit of using a number of French phrases in his conversation, having picked up a smattering of that language during a residence " on the Continent " ; in fact, he had found it very con- venient at various times of his life to dwell in the city of Boulogne, where he acquired a knowledge of smoking, ecarte, and billiards, which was afterwards of great service to him. He knew all the best tables in town, and the marker at Hunt's could only give him ten. He had some fashionable acquaintances too, and you might see him walking arm-in- arm with such gentlemen as my Lord Vauxhall, the Mar- quess of Billingsgate, or Captain Buff; and at the same THE RAVENSWING. 141 time nodding to young Moses, the dandy bailiff; or Loder, the gambling-house keeper ; or Aminadab, the cigar-seller in the Quadrant. Sometimes he wore a pair of moustaches, and was called Captain Walker; grounding his claim to that title upon the fact of having once held a commission in the service of her Majesty the Queen of Portugal. It scarcely need be said that he had been through the Insol- vent Court many times. But to those who did not know his history intimately there was some difficulty in identify- ing him with the individual who had so taken the benefit of the law, inasmuch as in his schedule his name appeared as Hooker Walker, wine-merchant, commission-agent, music- seller, or what not. The fact is, that though he preferred to call himself Howard, Hooker was his Christian name, and it had been bestowed on him by his worthy old father, who was a clergyman, and had intended his son for that profession. But as the old gentleman died in York jail, where he was a prisoner for debt, he was never able to put his pious intentions with regard to his son into execution ; and the young fellow (as he was wont with many oaths to assert) was thrown on his own resources, and became a man of the world at a very early age. What Mr. Howard Walker's age was at the time of the commencement of this history, and, indeed, for an indefinite period before or afterwards, it is impossible to determine. If he were eight-and-twenty, as he asserted himself, Time had dealt hardly with him : his hair was thin, there were many crows'-feet about his eyes, and other signs in his countenance of the progress of decay. If, on the contrary, he were forty, as Sam Snaffle declared, who himself had misfortunes in early life, and vowed he knew Mr. Walker in Whitecross Street Prison in 1820, he was a very young- looking person considering his age. His figure was active and slim, his leg neat, and he had not in his whiskers a single white hair. It must, however, be owned that he used Mr. Eglantine's Regenerative Unction (which will make your whiskers as black as your boot), and, in fact, he was a pretty constant visitor at that gentleman's emporium; dealing with him largely for soaps and articles of perfumery, which he had at an exceedingly low rate. Indeed, he was never known to pay Mr. Eglantine one single shilling for those objects of luxury, and, having them on such moderate terms, was enabled to indulge in them pretty copiously. Thus Mr. 142 MEN'S WIVES. Walker was almost as great a nosegay as Mr. Eglantine himself: his handkerchief was scented with verbena, his hair with jessamine, and his coat had usually a fine per- fume of cigars, which rendered his presence in a small room almost instantaneously remarkable. I have described Mr. Walker thus accurately, because, in truth, it is more with characters than with astounding events that this little history deals, and Mr. Walker is one of the principal of our dramatis persons. And so, having introduced Mr. W., we will walk over with him to Mr. Eglantine's emporium, where that gentle- man is in waiting, too, to have his likeness taken. There is about an acre of plate glass under the royal arms on Mr. Eglantine's shop-window ; and at night, when the gas is lighted, and the washballs are illuminated, and the lambent flame plays fitfully over numberless bottles of vari-colored perfumes now flashes on a case of razors, and now lightens up a crystal vase, containing a hundred thousand of his patent tooth-brushes the effect of the sight may be imagined. You don't suppose that he is a creature who has those odious, simpering wax figures in his window, that are called by the vulgar dummies ? He is above such a wretched artifice ; and it is my belief that he would as soon have his own head chopped off, and placed as a trunkless decoration to his shop-window, as allow a dummy to figure there. On one pane you read in elegant gold letters " Eglantinia " 'tis his essence for the hand- kerchief ; on the other is written " Eegenerative Unction " 'tis his invaluable pomatum for the hair. There is no doubt about it : Eglantine's knowledge of his profession amounts to genius. He sells a cake of soap for seven shillings, for which another man would not get a shilling, and his tooth-brushes go off like wildfire at half a guinea apiece. If he has to administer rouge or pearl- powder to ladies, he does it with a mystery and fascination which there is no resisting, and the ladies believe there are no cosmetics like his. He gives his wares unheard-of names, and obtains for them sums equally prodigious. He can dress hair that is a fact as few men in this age can ; and has been known to take twenty pounds in a single night from as many of the first ladies of England when ringlets were in fashion. The introduction of bands, he says, made a difference of 2,000?. a year in his income ; and if there is one thing in the world he hates and despises, it THE RAVENSWING. 143 is a Madonna. "I'm not," says he, "a tradesman I'm a hartist" (Mr. Eglantine was born in London) "I'm a hartist ; and show me a fine 'ead of 'air, and I'll dress it for nothink." He vows that it was his way of dressing Made- moiselle Sontag's hair, that caused the count her husband to fall in love with her ; and he has a lock of it in a brooch, and says it was the finest head he ever saw, except one, and that was Morgiana Crump's. With his genius and his position in the profession, how comes it then that Mr. Eglantine was not a man of fortune, as many a less clever has been ? If the truth must be told, he loved pleasure, and was in the hands of the Jews. He had been in business twenty years : he had borrowed a thousand pounds to purchase his stock and shop; and he calculated that he had paid upwards of twenty thousand pounds for the use of the one thousand, which was still as much due as on the first day when he entered business. He could show that he had received a thousand dozen of champagne from the disinterested money-dealers with whom he usually negotiated his paper. He had pictures all over his " studios," which had been purchased in the same bargains. If he sold his goods at an enormous price, he paid for them at a rate almost equally exorbitant. There was not an article in his shop but came to him through his Israelite providers ; and in the very front shop itself sat a gentleman who was the nominee of one of them, and who was called Mr. Mossrose. He was there to superintend the cash account, and to see that certain instalments were paid to his principals, according to certain agreements entered into between Mr. Eglantine and them. Having that sort of opinion of Mr. Mossrose which Damocles may have had of the sword which hung over his head, of course Mr. Eglantine hated his foreman profound- ly. " He an artist," would the former gentleman exclaim ; " why he's only a disguised bailiff : Mossrose indeed ! The chap's name's Amos, and he sold oranges before he came here." Mr. Mossrose, on his side, utterly despised Mr. Eglantine, and looked forward to the day when he would become the proprietor of the shop, and take Eglantine for a foreman : and then it would be his turn to sneer, and bully, and ride the high horse. Thus it will be seen that there was a skeleton in the great perfumer's house, as the saying is : a worm in his heart's core, and though to all appearance prosperous, he was really in an awkward position. 144 MEN'S WIVES. What Mr. Eglantine's relations were with Mr. "Walker may be imagined from the following dialogue which took place between the two gentlemen at five o'clock one summer's afternoon, when Mr. Walker, issuing from his chambers, came across to the perfumer's shop : " Is Eglantine at home, Mr. Mossrose ? " said Walker to the foreman, who sat in the front shop. "Don't know go and look" (meaning, go and be hanged) ; for Mossrose also hated Mr. Walker. "If you are uncivil I'll break your bones, Mr. Amos" says Mr. Walker, sternly. "I should like to see you try, Mr. Hooker Walker," replies the undaunted shopman; on which the Captain, looking several tremendous canings at him, walked into the back room or " studio. " " How are you, Tiny my buck ? " says the Captain. " Much doing ? " " Not a soul in town. I 'aven't touched the hirons all day," replied Mr. Eglantine, in rather a desponding way. " Well, just get them ready now, and give my whiskers a turn. I'm going to dine with Billingsgate and some out- and-out fellows at the ' Regent,' and so, my lad, just do your best." "I can't," says Mr. Eglantine. "I expect ladies, Cap- tain, every minute." " Very good ; I don't want to trouble such a great man, I'm sure. Good-by, and let me hear from you this day week, Mr. Eglantine." " This day week " meant that at seven days from that time a certain bill accepted by Mr. Eglantine would be due, and presented for payment. " Don't be in such a hurry, Captain do sit down. I'll curl you in one minute. And, I say, won't the party renew ? " " Impossible it's the third renewal." " But I'll make the thing handsome to you : indeed I will." "How much?" " Will ten pounds do the business ? " " What ! offer my principal ten pounds ? Are you mad, Eglantine? A little more of the iron to the left whisker." " No, I meant for commission." " Well, I'll see if that will do. The party I deal with, Eglantine, has power, I know, and can defer the matter no doubt. As for me, you know, I've nothing to do in the THE RAVENSWING. 145 affair, and only act as a friend between you and him. I give you my honor and soul, I do." " I know you do, my dear sir." The two last speeches were lies. The perfumer knew perfectly well that Mr. Walker would pocket the 10. ; but he was too easy to care for paying it, and too timid to quarrel with such a powerful friend. And he had on three different occasions already paid 10Z. fine for the renewal of the bill in question, all of which bonuses he knew went to his friend Mr. Walker. Here, too, the reader will perceive what was, in part, the meaning of the word " agency " on Mr. Walker's door. He was a go-between between money-lenders and borrowers in this world, and certain small sums always remained with him in the course of the transaction. He was an agent for wine, too; an agent for places to be had through the influence of great men ; he was an agent for half a dozen theatrical people, male and female, and had the interests of the latter especially, it was said, at heart. Such were a few of the means by which this worthy gentleman contrived to support himself, and if, as he was fond of high living, gambling, and pleasures of all kinds, his revenue was not large enough for his expenditure why, he got into debt, and settled his bills that way. He was as much at home in the Fleet as in Pall Mall, and quite as happy in the one place as in the other. " That's the way I take things," would this philosopher say. " If I've money, I spend : if I've credit, I borrow ; if I'm dunned, I whitewash ; and so you can't beat me down." Happy elasticity of tempera- ment ! I do believe that in spite of his misfortunes and precarious position, there was no man in England whose conscience was more calm, and whose slumbers were more tranquil than those of Captain Howard Walker. As he was sitting under the hands of Mr. Eglantine, he reverted to " the ladies," whom the latter gentleman pro- fessed to expect ; said he was a sly dog, a lucky ditto, and asked him if the ladies were handsome. Eglantine thought there could be no harm in telling a bouncer to a gentleman with whom he was engaged in money transactions; and so, to give the Captain an idea of his solvency and the brilliancy of his future prospects, " Captain," said he, " I've got a hundred and eighty pounds out with you, which you were obliging enough to negotiate for me. Have I, or have I not, two bills out to that amount ? " 10 146 MEN'S WIVES. "Well, my good fellow, you certainly have; and what then ? " "What then? Why, I bet you five pounds to one, that in three months those bills are paid." " Done ! five pounds to one. I take it." This sudden closing with him made the perfumer rather uneasy ; but he was not to pay for three months, and so he said " Done ! " too, and went on : " What would you say if your bills were paid ? " "Not mine; Pike's. '' " Well, if Pike's were paid ; and the Minories' man paid, and every single liability I have cleared off; and that Mossrose flung out of winder, and me and my emporium as free as hair ? " " You don't say so ? Is Queen Anne dead ? and has she left you a fortune ? or what's the luck in the wind now ? " " It's better than Queen Anne, or anybody dying. What should you say to seeing in that very place where Mossrose now sits (hang him ! ) seeing the finest head of 'air now in Europe ? A woman, I tell you a slap-up lovely woman, who, I'm proud to say, will soon be called Mrs. Heglantine, and will bring me five thousand pounds to her fortune." " Well, Tiny, this is good luck indeed. I say, you'll be able to do a bill or two for me then, hay ? You won't for- get an old friend ? " " That I won't. I shall have a place at my board for you, capting ; and many's the time I shall 'ope to see you under that ma'ogany." " What will the French milliner say ? She'll hang her- self for despair, Eglantine." " Hush ! not a word about 'er. I've sown all my wild oats, I tell you. Eglantine is no longer the gay young bachelor, but the sober married man. I want a heart to share the feelings of mine. I want repose. I'm not so young as I was, I feel it." " Pooh ! pooh ! you are you are " "Well, but I sigh for an 'appy fireside ; and I'll have it." " And give up that club which you belong to, hay ? '" " ' The Kidneys ' ? Oh ! of course no married man should belong to such places : at least, I'll not ; and I'll have my kidneys broiled at home. But be quiet, Captain, if you please ; the ladies appointed to " " And is it the lady you expect ? eh, you rogue ! " " Well, get along. It's her and her Ma." THE RAVENSWING. 147 But Mr. Walker determined he wouldn't get along, and would see these lovely ladies before he stirred. The operation on Mr. Walker's whiskers being concluded, he was arranging his toilet before the glass in an agreeable attitude : his neck out, his enormous pin settled in his stock to his satisfaction, his eyes complacently directed towards the reflection of his left and favorite whisker. Eglantine was laid on a settee, in an easy though melancholy pos- ture ; he was twiddling the tongs with which he had just operated on Walker with one hand, and his right-hand ringlet with the other, and he was thinking thinking of Morgiana ; and then of the bill which was to become due on the 16th ; and then of a light blue velvet waistcoat with gold sprigs, in which he looked very killing, and so was trudging round in his little circle of loves, fears, and vanities. " Hang it ! " Mr. Walker was thinking, " I am a handsome man. A pair of whiskers like mine are not met with every day. If anybody can see that my tuft is dyed, may I be " When the door was flung open, and a large lady with a curl on her forehead, yellow shawl, a green-velvet bonnet with feathers, half-boots, and a drab gown with tulips and other large exotics painted on it when, in a word, Mrs. Crump and her daughter bounced into the room. "Here we are, Mr. E.," cries Mrs. Crump, in a gay, foldtre, confidential air. " But law ! there's a gent in the room ! " _ " Don't mind me, ladies," said the gent alluded to, with his fascinating way. " I'm a friend of Eglantine's ; ain't I, Egg ? a chip of the old block, hay ? " " That you are," said the perfumer, starting up. " An 'air-dresser ? " asked Mrs. Crump. " Well, I thought he was ; there's something, Mr. E., in gentlemen of your profession so exceeding, so uncommon distanyy." " Madam, you do me proud," replied the gentleman so complimented, with great presence of mind. "Will you allow me to try my skill upon you, or upon Miss, your lovely daughter ? I'm not so clever as Eglantine, but no bad hand, I assure you." " Nonsense, Captain," interrupted the perfumer, who was uncomfortable somehow at the rencontre between the Cap- tain and the object of his affection. " He's not in the pro- fession, Mrs. C. This is my friend Captain Walker, and proud I am to call him my friend." And then aside to 148 MEN'S WIVES. Mrs. C., " One of the first swells on town, ma'am a regu- lar tip-topper." Humoring the mistake which Mrs. Crump had just made, Mr. Walker thrust the curling-irons into the fire in a min- ute, and looked round at the ladies with such a fascinating grace, that both, now made acquainted with his quality, blushed and giggled, and were quite pleased. Mamma looked at 'Gina, and 'Gina looked at mamma; and then mamma gave 'Gina a little blow in the region of her little waist, and then both burst out laughing, as ladies will laugh and as, let us trust, they may laugh forever and ever. Why need there be a reason for laughing ? Let us laugh when we are laughy, as we sleep when we are sleepy. And so Mrs. Crump and her demoiselle laughed to their heart's content; and both fixed their large shining black eyes repeatedly on Mr. Walker. " I won't leave the room," said he, coming forward with the heated iron in his hand, and smoothing it on the brown paper with all the dexterity of a professor (for the fact is, Mr. W. every morning curled his own immense whiskers with the greatest skill and care) "I won't leave the room, Eglantine my boy. My lady here took me for a hairdresser, and so, you know, I've a right to stay." " He can't stay," said Mrs. Crump, all of a sudden, blush- ing as red as a peony. " I shall have on my peignoir, mamma," said Miss, look- ing at the gentleman, and then dropping down her eyes and blushing too. " But he can't stay, 'Gina, I tell you : do you think that I would before a gentleman take off my " "Mamma means her FRONT!" said Miss, jumping up, and beginning to laugh with all her might ; at which the honest landlady of the "Bootjack," who loved a joke, although at her own expense, laughed too, and said that no one, except Mr. Crump and Mr. Eglantine, had ever seen her without the ornament in question. " Do go now, you provoking thing, you ! " continued Miss C. to Mr. Walker ; " I wish to hear the hoverture, and it's six o'clock now, and we shall never be done against then : " but the way in which Morgiana said " do go," clearly indi- cated " don't " to the perspicuous mind of Mr. Walker. "Perhaps you 'ad better go," continued Mr. Eglantine, joining in this sentiment, and being, in truth, somewhat uneasy at the admiration which his " swell friend" excited. THE RAVENSWING. 149 "I'll see you hanged first, Eggy my boy ! Go I won't, until these ladies have had their hair dressed : didn't you yourself tell me that Miss Crump's was the most beautiful hair in Europe ? And do you think that I'll go away with- out seeing it ? No, here I stay." "You naughty, wicked, odious, provoking man!" said Miss Crump. But, at the same time, she took off her bon- net, and placed it on one of the side candlesticks of Mr. Eglantine's glass (it was a black-velvet bonnet, trimmed with sham lace, and with a wreath of nasturtiums, convolvuluses, and wall-flowers within) ; and then said, " Give me the pei- gnoir, Mr. Archibald, if you please ; " and Eglantine, who would do anything for her when she called him Archibald, immediately produced that garment, and wrapped round the 150 MEN'S WIVES. delicate shoulders of the lady, who, removing a sham gold chain which she wore on her forehead, two brass hair-combs set with glass rubies, and the comb which kept her back hair together, removing them, I say, and turning her great eyes towards the stranger, and giving her head a shake, down let tumble such a flood of shining, waving, heavy, glossy, jetty hair, as would have done Mr. Rowland's heart good to see. It tumbled down Miss Morgiana's back, and it tumbled over her shoulders, it tumbled over the chair on which she sat, and from the midst of it her jolly, bright- eyed, rosy face beamed out with a triumphant smile, which said, " A'n't I now the most angelic being you ever saw ? " " By heaven ! it's the most beautiful thing I ever saw ! " cried Mr. Walker, with undisguised admiration. "Isn't it?" said Mrs. Crump, who made her daughter's triumph her own. " Heigh-ho ! when I acted at ' The Wells/ in 1820, before that dear girl was born, / had such a head of hair as that, to a shade, sir, to a shade. They called me Rraveuswing on account of it. I lost my head of hair when that dear child was born, and I often say to her, l Morgiana, you came into the world to rob your mother of her 'air.' Were you ever at ' The Wells,' sir, in 1820 ? Perhaps you recollect Miss Delancy ? I am that Miss Delancy. Per- haps you recollect, " ' Tink-a-tink, tink-a-tink, By the light of the star, On the blue river's brink, I heard a guitar. " ' I heard a guitar, On the blue waters clear, And knew by its mu-u-sic, That Selim was near!' You remember that in the Bagdad Bells? Fatima, Delancy ; Selim, Benlomond (his real name was Bunnion : and he failed, poor fellow, in the public line afterwards). It was done to the tambourine, and dancing between each verse, " ' Tink-a-tink, tink-a-tink, How the soft music swells, And I hear the soft clink Of the minaret bells! "'Tink-a '" " Oh ! " here cried Miss Crump, as if in exceeding pain (and whether Mr. Eglantine had twitched, pulled, or hurt THE RAVENSWING. 151 any one individual hair of that lovely head I don't know), " Oh, you are killing me, Mr. Eglantine ! " And with this mamma, who was in her attitude, holding up the end of her boa as a visionary tambourine, and Mr. Walker, who was looking at her, and in his amusement at the mother's performances had almost forgotten the charms of the daughter, both turned round at once, and looked at her with many expressions of sympathy, while Eglantine, in a voice of reproach, said " Killed you, Morgiana ! I kill you ? " " I'm better now," said the young lady, with a smile, " I'm better, Mr. Archibald, now." And if the truth must be told, no greater coquette than Miss Morgiana existed in all May Fair, no, not among the most fashionable mis- tresses of the fashionable valets who frequented the " Boot- jack." She believed herself to be the most fascinating creature that the world ever produced; she never saw a stranger but she tried these fascinations upon him ; and her charms of manner and person were of that showy sort which is most popular in this world, where people are wont to admire most that which gives them the least trouble to see ; and so you will find a tulip of a woman to be in fash- ion when a little humble violet or daisy of creation is passed over without remark. Morgiana was a tulip among women, and the tulip-fanciers all came flocking round her. Well, the said " Oh ! " and " I'm better now, Mr. Archi- bald," thereby succeeded in drawing everybody's attention to her lovely self. By the latter words Mr. Eglantine was specially inflamed; he glanced at Mr. Walker, and said, " Capting ! didn't I tell you she was a creecher ? See her hair, sir : it's as black and as glossy as satting. It weighs fifteen pound, that hair, sir ; and I wouldn't let my appren- tice that blundering Mossrose, for instance (hang him !) I wouldn't let any one but myself dress that hair for five hundred guineas ! Ah, Miss Morgiana, remember that you may ahvays have Eglantine to dress your hair ! remember that, that's all." And with this the worthy gentleman began rubbing delicately a little of the Eglantinia into those ambrosial locks, which he loved with all the love of a man and an artist. And as for Morgiana showing her hair, I hope none of my readers will entertain a bad opinion of the poor girl for doing so. Her locks were her pride; she acted at the private theatre "hair parts," where she could appear on 152 MEN'S WIVES. purpose to show them in a dishevelled state ; and that her modesty was real and not affected may be proved by the fact that when Mr. Walker, stepping up in the midst of Eglantine's last speech, took hold of a lock of her hair very gently with his hand, she cried " Oh ! " and started with all her might. And Mr. Eglantine observed very gravely, " Capting ! Miss Crump's hair is to be seen and not to be touched, if you please." "No more it is, Mr. Eglantine," said her mamma; "and now, as it's come to my turn, I beg the gentleman will be so obliging as to go." " Must I? " cried Mr. Walker ; and as it was half-past six, and he was engaged to dinner at the " Kegent Club," and as he did not wish to make Eglantine jealous, who evidently was annoyed by his staying, he took his hat just as Miss Crump's coiffure was completed, and saluting her and her mamma left the room. " A tip-top swell, I can assure you," said Eglantine, nodding after him. " A regular bang-up chap, and no mis- take. Intimate with the Marquess of Billingsgate, and Lord Vauxhall, and that set." " He's very genteel," said Mrs. Crump. " Law ! I'm sure I think nothing of him," said Morgiana. And Captain Walker walked towards his club, meditating on the beauties of Morgiana. " What hair," said he, " what eyes the girl has ! they're as big as billiard-balls ; and 5,OOOZ. Eglantine's in luck! 5,000. she can't have it, it's impossible ! " No sooner was Mrs. Crump's front arranged, during the time of which operation Morgiana sat in perfect content- ment looking at the last French fashions in the Courrier des Dames, and thinking how her pink satin slip would dye, and make just such a mantilla as that represented in the engraving, no sooner was Mrs. Crump's front arranged, than both ladies, taking leave of Mr. Eglantine, tripped back to the "Bootjack Hotel" in the neighborhood, where a very neat green fly was already in waiting, the gentleman on the box of which (from a livery-stable in the neighborhood) gave a knowing touch to his hat, and a salute with his whip, to the two ladies, as they entered the tavern. "Mr. W.'s inside," said the man a driver from Mr. Snaffle's establishment ; " he's been in and out this score of times, and looking down the street for you." And in the THE RAVENSWING. 153 house, in fact, was Mr. Woolsey, the tailor, who had hired the fly, and was engaged to conduct the ladies that evening to the play. It was really rather too bad to think that Miss Morgiana, after going to one lover to have her hair dressed, should go with another to the play; but such is the way with lovely woman ! Let her have a dozen admirers, and the dear coquette will exercise her power upon them all : and as a lady, when she has a large wardrobe, and a taste for variety in dress, will appear every day in a different cos- tume, so will the young and giddy beauty wear her lovers, encouraging now the black whiskers, now smiling on the brown, now thinking that the gay smiling rattle of an admirer becomes her very well, and now adopting the sad sentimental melancholy one, according as her changeful fancy prompts her. Let us not be too angry with these uncertainties and caprices of beauty; and depend on it that, for the most part, those females who cry out loudest against the flightiness of their sisters, and rebuke their undue encouragement of this man or that, would do as much themselves if they had the chance, and are con- stant, as I am to my coat just now, because I have no other. "Did you see Doubleyou, 'Gina dear ?" said her mamma, addressing that young lady. "He's in the bar with your Pa, and has his military coat with the king's buttons, and looks like an officer." This was Mr. Woolsey's style, his great aim being to look like an army gent, for many of whom he in his capac- ity of tailor made those splendid red and blue coats which characterize our military. As for the royal button, had not he made a set of coats for his late Majesty, George IV.? and he would add, when he narrated this circum- stance, "Sir, Prince Blucher and Prince Swartzenberg's measure's in the house now ; and what's more, I've cut for Wellington." I believe he would have gone to St. Helena to make a coat for Napoleon, so great was his ardor. He wore a blue-black wig, and his whiskers were of the same hue. He was brief and stern in conversation ; and he always went to masquerades and balls in a field-marshal's uniform. "He looks really quite the thing to-night," continued Mrs. Crump. " Yes," said 'Gina ; " but he's such an odious wig, and 154 MEN'S WIVES. the dye of his whiskers always comes off on his white gloves." "Everybody has not their own hair, love," continued Mrs. Crump, with a sigh ; "but Eglantine's is beautiful." " Every hairdresser's is," answered Morgiana, rather con- temptuously ; " but what I can't bear is that their fingers is always so very fat and pudgy." In fact, something had gone wrong with the fair Morgi- ana. Was it that she had but little liking for the one pretender or the other ? Was it that young Glauber, who acted Romeo in the private theatricals, was far younger and more agreeable than either ? Or was it that, seeing a real gentleman, such as Mr. Walker, with whom she had had her first interview, she felt more and more the want of refinement in her other declared admirers ! Certain, how- ever, it is, that she was very reserved all the evening, in spite of the attentions of Mr. Woolsey; that she repeat- edly looked round at the box-door, as if she expected some one to enter; and that she partook of only a very few oysters, indeed, out of the barrel which the gallant tailor had sent down to the "Bootjack," and off which the party supped. " What is it ? " said Mr. Woolsey to his ally, Crump, as they sat together after the retirement of the ladies. " She was dumb all night. She never once laughed at the farce, nor cried at the tragedy, and you know she laughs and cries uncommon. She only took half her negus, and not above a quarter of her beer." " No more she did ! " replied Mr. Crump, very calmly. "I think it must be the barber as has been captivating her : he dressed her hair for the play." " Hang him, I'll shoot him ! " said Mr. Woolsey. " A fat, foolish, effeminate beast like that marry Miss Morgi- ana? Never! I will shoot him. I'll provoke him next Saturday I'll tread on his toe I'll pull his nose." "No quarrelling at the 'Kidneys'!" answered Crump, sternly; "there shall be no quarrelling in that room as long as I'm in the chair ! " " Well, at any rate you'll stand my friend ? " " You know I will," answered the other. " You are hon- orable, and I like you better than Eglantine. I trust you more than Eglantine, sir. You're more of a man than Eglantine, though you are a tailor ; and I wish with all my heart you may get Morgiana. Mrs. C. goes the other way, THE RAVENSWING. 155 I know : but I tell you what, women will go their own ways, sir, and Morgy's like her mother in this point, and, depend upon it, Morgy will decide for herself." Mr. Woolsey presently went home, still persisting in his plan for the assassination of Eglantine. Mr. Crump went to bed very quietly, and snored through the night in his usual tone. Mr. Eglantine passed some feverish moments of jealousy, for he had come down to the club in the even- ing, and had heard that Morgiana was gone to the play with his rival. And Miss Morgiana dreamed of a man who was must we say it ? exceedingly like Captain Howard Walker. " Mrs. Captain So-and-so ! " thought she. " Oh, I do love a gentleman dearly ! " And about this time, too, Mr. Walker himself came roll- ing home from the " Regent," hiccoughing, " Such hair ! such eyebrows ! such eyes ! like b-b-billiard-balls, by Jove ! " CHAPTER II. IN WHICH MB. WALKER MAKES THREE ATTEMPTS TO ASCER- TAIN THE DWELLING OF MORGIANA. HE day after the dinner at the " Regent Club," Mr. Walker stepped over to the shop of his friend the perfumer, where, as usual, the young man, Mr. Mossrose, was estab- lished in the front premises. For some reason or other, the Captain was particularly good-huinored ; and, quite for- getful of the words which had passed between him and Mr. Eglantine's lieutenant the day before, began ad- dressing the latter with ex- treme cordiality. "A good morning to you, Mr. Mossrose," said Captain Walker. " Why, sir, you look as fresh as your namesake, you do, indeed, now, Mossrose." "You look ash yellow ash a guinea," responded Mr. Mossrose, sulkily. He thought the Captain was hoaxing him. " My good sir," replies the other, nothing cast down, " I drank rather too freely last night." " The more beast you ! " said Mr. Mossrose. " Thank you, Mossrose ; the same to you," answered the Captain. "If you call me a beast I'll punch your head off!" answered the young man, who had much skill in the art which many of his brethren practise. "I didn't, my fine fellow," replied Walker. "On the contrary, you " " Do you mean to give me the lie ? " broke out the indig- 156 THE RAVENSWING. 157 nant Mossrose, who hated the agent fiercely, and did not in the least care to conceal his hate. In fact, it was his fixed purpose to pick a quarrel with Walker, and to drive him, if possible, from Mr. Eglantine's shop. " Do you mean to give me the lie, I say, Mr. Hooker Walker ? " " For heaven's sake, Amos, hold your tongue ! " exclaimed the Captain, to whom the name of Hooker was as poison ; but at this moment a customer stepping in, Mr. Amos exchanged his ferocious aspect for a bland grin, and Mr. Walker walked into the studio. When in Mr. Eglantine's presence, Walker, too, was all smiles in a minute, sunk down on a settee, held out his hand to the perfumer, and began confidentially discoursing with him. "Such a dinner, Tiny my boy," said he; "such prime fellows to eat it, too ! Billingsgate, Vauxhall, Cinqbars, Buff of the Blues, and half a dozen more of the best fel- lows in town. And what do you think the dinner cost a Lead ? I'll wager you'll never guess." " Was it two guineas a head ? In course I mean with- out wine," said the genteel perfumer. " Guess again ! " "Well, was it ten guineas a head? I'll guess any sum you please," replied Mr. Eglantine : " for I know that when you nobs are together, you don't spare your money. I myself, at the 'Star and Garter/ at Richmond, once paid " " Eighteenpence ? " " Heighteenpence, sir ! I paid five-and-thirty shillings per 'ead. I'd have you to know that I can act as a gentle- man as well as any other gentleman, sir," answered the perfumer with much dignity. "Well, eighteenpence was what we paid, and not a rap more, upon my honor." " Nonsense, you're joking. The Marquess of Billingsgate dine for eighteenpence? Why, hang it, if I was a mar- quess, I'd pay a five-pound note for my lunch." " You little know the person, Master Eglantine," replied the Captain, with a smile of contemptuous superiority; "you little know the real man of fashion, my good fel- low. Simplicity, sir simplicity's the characteristic of the real gentleman, and so I'll tell you what we had for dinner." 158 MEN'S WIVES. " Turtle and venison, of course : no nob dines without them." " Psha ! we're sick of 'em ! We had pea-soup and boiled tripe ! What do you think of that ? We had sprats and herrings, a bullock's heart, a baked shoulder of mutton and potatoes, pig's-fry and Irish stew. I ordered the dinner, sir, and got more credit for inventing it than they ever gave to Ude or Soyer. The Marquess was in ecstasies, the Earl devoured half a bushel of sprats, and if the Viscount is not laid up with a surfeit of bullock's heart, my name's not Howard Walker. Billy, as I call him, was in the chair, and gave my health; and what do you think the rascal proposed ? " " What did his lordship propose ? " " That every man present should subscribe twopence, and pay for my share of the dinner. By Jove ! it is true, and the money was handed to me in a pewter-pot, of which they also begged to make me a present. We afterwards went to Tom Spring's, from Tom's to the 'Finish,' from the 'Finish' to the watch-house that is, they did, and sent for me, just as I was getting into bed, to bail them all out." " They're happy dogs, those young noblemen," said Mr. Eglantine ; " nothing but pleasure from morning till night ; no affectation neither, no hoture ; but manly, downright, straightforward good fellows." " Should you like to meet them, Tiny my boy ? " said the Captain. " If I did, sir, I hope I should show myself to be the gentleman," answered Mr. Eglantine. " Well, you shall meet them, and Lady Billingsgate shall order her perfumes at your shop. We are going to dine, next week, all our set, at mealy-faced Bob's, and you shall be my guest," cried the Captain, slapping the delighted artist on the back. "And now, my boy, tell me how you spent the evening." "At my club, sir," answered Mr. Eglantine, blushing rather. " What ! not at the play with the lovely black-eyed Miss what is her name, Eglantine ? " "Never mind her name, Captain," replied Eglantine, partly from prudence and partly from shame. He had not the heart to own it was Crump, and he did not care that the Captain should know more of his destined bride. " You wish to keep the five thousand to yourself eh, THE RAVENSWING. 159 you rogue ? " responded the Captain, with a good-humored air, although exceedingly mortified ; for, to say the truth, he had put himself to the trouble of telling the above long story of the dinner, and of promising to introduce Eglantine to the lords, solely that he might elicit from that gentle- man's good-humor some further particulars regarding the young lady with the billiard-ball eyes. It was for the very same reason, too, that he had made the attempt at reconcil- iation with Mr. Mossrose which had just so signally failed. Nor would the reader, did he know Mr. W. better, at all require to have the above explanation ; but as yet we are only at the first chapter of his history, and who is to know what the hero's motives can be unless we take the trouble to explain ? Well, the little, dignified answer of the worthy dealer in bergamot, " Never mind her name, Captain ! " threw the gallant Captain quite aback; and though he sat for a quarter of an hour longer, and was exceedingly kind ; and though he threw out some skilful hints, yet the perfumer was quite unconquerable ; or, rather, he was too frightened to tell : the poor, fat, timid, easy, good-natured gentleman was always the prey of rogues, panting and floundering in one rascal's snare or another's. He had the dissimula- tion, too, which timid men have ; and felt the presence of a victimizer as a hare does of a greyhound. Now he would be quite still, now he would double, and now he would run, and then came the end. He knew, by his sure instinct of fear, that the Captain had, in asking these questions, a scheme against him, and so he was cautious, and trembled, and doubted. And oh! how he thanked his stars when Lady G-rogmore's chariot drove up, with the Misses Grog- more, who wanted their hair dressed, and were going to a breakfast at three o'clock ! " I'll look in again, Tiny," said the Captain, on hearing the summons. 11 Do, Captain," replied the other: "thank you;" and went into the lady's studio with a heavy heart. " Get out of the way, you infernal villain ! " roared the Captain, with many oaths, to Lady Grogmore's large foot- man, with ruby-colored tights, who was standing inhaling the ten thousand perfumes of the shop; and the latter, moving away in great terror, the gallant agent passed out, quite heedless of the grin of Mr. Mossrose. Walker was in a fury at his want of success, and walked 160 MEN'S WIVES. down Bond Street in a fury. " I will know where the girl lives ! " swore he. " I'll spend a five-pound note, by Jove ! rather than not know where she lives ! " " That you would I know you would ! " said a little grave low voice, all of a sudden, by his side. " Pooh ! what's money to you ? " Walker looked down ; it was Tom Dale. Who in London did not know little Tom Dale ? He had cheeks like an apple, and his hair curled every morning, and a little blue stock, and always two new magazines under his arm, and an umbrella and a little brown frock-coat, and big square-toed shoes with which he went papping down the street. He was everywhere at once. Everybody met him every day, and he knew everything that everybody ever did ; though nobody ever knew what he did. He was, they say, a hundred years old, and had never dined at his own charge once in those hundred years. He looked like a figure out of a wax-work, with glassy, clear, meaningless eyes : he always spoke with a grin ; he knew what you had for dinner the day before he met you, and what everybody had had for dinner for a century back almost. He was the receptacle of all the scandal of all the world, from Bond Street to Bread Street ; he knew all the authors, all the actors, all the "notorieties" of the town, and the private histories of each. That is, he never knew anything really, but supplied deficiencies of truth and memory with ready-coined, never- failing lies. He was the most benevolent man in the universe, and never saw you without telling you everything most cruel of your neighbor, and when he left you he went to do the same kind turn by yourself. "Pooh ! what's money to you, my dear boy ? " said little Tom Dale, who had just come out of Ebers's, where he had been filching an opera-ticket. " You make it in bushels in the City, you know you do, in thousands. / saw you go into Eglantine's. Fine business that; finest in London. Five-shilling cakes of soap, my dear boy. / can't wash with such. Thousands a year that man has made hasn't he ? " "Upon my word, Tom, I don't know," says the Captain. " You not know ? Don't tell me. You know everything you agents. You know he makes five thousand a year, ay, and might make ten, but you know why he don't." "Indeed I don't." " Nonsense. Don't humbug a poor old fellow like me. THE RAVENSWING. 161 Jews Amos fifty per cent, ay ? Why can't he get his money from a good Christian ? " "I have heard something of that sort," said "Walker, laughing. " Why, by Jove, Tom, you know everything ! " " You know everything, my dear boy. You know what a rascally trick that opera creature served him, poor fellow. Cashmere shawls Storr and Mortimer's Star and Garter. Much better dine quiet off pea-soup and sprats, ay ? His betters have, as you know very well." " Pea-soup and sprats ! What ! have you heard of that already ? " "Who bailed Lord Billingsgate, ay, you rogue?" and here Tom gave a knowing and almost demoniacal grin. "Who wouldn't go to the 'Finish'? Who had the piece of plate presented to him filled with sovereigns ? And you deserved it, my dear boy you deserved it. They said it was only halfpence, but / know better ! " and here Tom went off in a cough. "I say, Tom," cried Walker, inspired with a sudden thought, " you, who know everything, and are a theatrical man, did you ever know a Miss Delancy, an actress ? " "At 'Sadler's Wells,' in '16? Of course I did. Eeal name was Budge. Lord Slapper admired her very much, my dear boy. She married a man by the name of Crump, his lordship's black footman, and brought him five thousand pounds; and they keep the 'Bootjack' public-house in Bunker's Buildings, and they've got fourteen children. Is one of them handsome, eh, you sly rogue, and is it that which you will give five pounds to know ? God bless you, my dear, dear boy. Jones, my dear friend, how are you ? " And now, seizing on Jones, Tom Dale left Mr. Walker alone, and proceeded to pour into Mr. Jones's ear an account of the individual whom he had just quitted ; how he was the best fellow in the world, and Jones knew it ; how he was in a fine way of making his fortune ; how he had been in the Fleet many times, and how he was at this moment employed in looking out for a young lady of whom a certain great marquess (whom Jones knew very well, too) had expressed an admiration. But for these observations, which he did not hear, Captain Walker, it may be pronounced, did not care. His eyes brightened up, he marched quickly and gayly away ; and turning into his own chambers opposite Eglantine's shop, saluted that establishment with a grin of triumph. " You 11 162 MEN'S WIVES. wouldn't tell me her name, wouldn't you ? " said Mr. Walker. " Well, the luck's with me now, and here goes." Two days after, as Mr. Eglantine, with white gloves and a case of eau-de-Cologne as a present in his pocket, arrived at the " Bootjack Hotel," Little Bunker's Buildings, Berke- ley Square (for it must out that was the place in which Mr. Crump's inn was situated), he paused for a moment at the threshold of the little house of entertainment, and listened, with beating heart, to the sound of delicious music that a well-known voice was uttering within. The moon was playing in silvery brightness down the gutter of the humble street. A "helper," rubbing down one of Lady Smigsmag's carriage-horses, even paused in his whistle to listen to the strain. Mr. Tressle's man, who had been professionally occupied, ceased his tap-tap upon the coffin which he was getting in readiness. The greengrocer (there is always a greengrocer in those narrow streets, and he goes out in white Berlin gloves as a supernumerary footman) was standing charmed at his little green gate : the cobbler (there is always a cobbler too) was drunk, as usual, of even- ings, but, with unusual subordination, never sung except when the refrain of the ditty arrived, when he hiccoughed it forth with tipsy loyalty ; and Eglantine leaned against the Chequers painted on the doorside under the name of Crump, and looked at the red illumined curtain of the bar, and the vast, well-known shadow of Mrs. Crump's turban within. Now and again the shadow of that worthy matron's hand would be seen to grasp the shadow of a bottle ; then the shadow of a cup would rise towards the turban, and still the strain proceeded. Eglantine, I say, took out his yellow bandanna, and brushed the beady drops from his brow, and laid the contents of his white kids on his heart, and sighed with ecstatic sympathy. The song began, " Come to the greenwood tree,* Come where the dark woods be, Dearest, O come with me ! Let us rove O my love O my love ! Omy-y love! (Drunken Cobbler without) O my-y love! " Beast ! " says Eglantine. * The words of this song are copyright, nor will the copyright be sold for less than twopence-halfpenny. THE RAVENSWING. 163 " Come 'tis the moonlight hour, Dew is on leaf and flower, Come to the linden bower, Let us rove O my love O my love ! Let us ro-o-ove, lurlurliety; yes, we'll rove, lurluriety, Through the gro-o-ove, lurlurliety lurlurli-e-i-e-i-e-i ! (Cobbler as usual) Let us ro-o-ove," &c. " You here ? " says another individual, coming clinking up the street, in a military-cut dress-coat, the buttons whereof shone very bright in the moonlight. " You here, Eglantine ? You're always here." "Hush, Woolsey," said Mr. Eglantine to his rival the tailor (f or he was the individual in question) ; and Woolsey, accordingly, put his back against the opposite door-post and chequers, so that (with poor Eglantine's bulk) nothing much thicker than a sheet of paper could pass out or in. And thus these two amorous caryatides kept guard as the song continued : " Dark is the wood, and wide, Dangers, they say, betide ; But, at my Albert's side, Nought I fear, O my love O my love! " Welcome the greenwood tree, Welcome the forest tree, Dearest, with thee, with thee, Nought I fear, O my love O ma-a-y love! " Eglantine's fine eyes were filled with tears as Morgiana passionately uttered the above beautiful words. Little Woolsey's eyes glistened, as he clenched his fist with an oath, and said, " Show me any singing that can beat that. Cobbler, shut your mouth, or I'll break your head ! " But the cobbler, regardless of the threat, continued to perform the " Lurlurliety," with great accuracy ; and when that was ended, both on his part and Morgiana's, a rapturous knocking of glasses was heard in the little bar, then a great clapping of hands, and finally, somebody shouted "Bravo, I " " Brava ! " At that word Eglantine turned deadly pale, then gave a start, then a rush forward, which pinned, or rather cush- ioned, the tailor against the wall ; twisting himself abruptly round, he sprung to the door of the bar, and bounced into that apartment. "How are you, my nosegay ? " exclaimed the same voice 164 MEN'S WIVES. which had shouted "Brava." It was that of Captain Walker. At ten o'clock the next morning, a gentleman, with the King's button on his military coat, walked abruptly into Mr. Eglantine's shop, and, turning on Mr. Mossrose, said, " Tell your master I want to see him." " He's in his studio," said Mr. Mossrose. " Well, then, fellow, go and fetch him ! " And Mossrose, thinking it must be the Lord Chamberlain, or Doctor Prsetorius at least, walked into the studio, where the perfumer was seated in a very glossy old silk dressing- gown, his fair hair hanging over his white face, his double chin over his flaccid, whity-brown shirt-collar, his pea-green slippers on the hob, and, on the fire, the pot of chocolate which was simmering for his breakfast. A lazier fellow than poor Eglantine it would be hard to find ; whereas, on the contrary, Woolsey was always up and brushed, spick- and-span, at seven o'clock ; and had gone through his books, and given out the work for the journeymen, and eaten a hearty breakfast of rashers of bacon, before Eglantine had put the usual pound of grease to his hair (his fingers were always as damp and shiny as if he had them in a pomatum- pot), and arranged his figure for the day. " Here's a gent wants you in the shop," says Mr. Moss- rose, leaving the door of communication wide open. " Say I'm in bed, Mr. Mossrose ; I'm out of sperrets, and really can see nobody." " It's some one from Vindsor, I think ; he's got the royal button," says Mossrose. " It's me Woolsey," shouted the little man from the shop. Mr. Eglantine at this jumped up, made a rush to the door leading to his private apartment, and disappeared in a twinkling. But it must not be imagined that he fled in order to avoid Mr. Woolsey. He only went away for one minute just to put on his belt, for he was ashamed to be seen without it by his rival. This being assumed, and his toilet somewhat arranged, Mr. Woolsey was admitted into his private room. And Mossrose would have heard every word of the conversation between those two gentlemen, had not Woolsey, opening the door, suddenly pounced on the assistant, taken him by the collar, and told him to disappear altogether into the shop : which Mossrose did ; vowing he would have his revenge. THE RAVENSWING. 165 The subject on which. Woolsey had come to treat was an important one. " Mr. Eglantine," says he, " there's no use disguising from one another that we are both of us in love with Miss Morgiana, and that our chances up to this time have been pretty equal. But that Captain whom you intro- duced, like an ass as you were " " An ass, Mr. Woolsey ? I'd have you to know, sir, that I'm no more a hass than you are, sir ; and as for intro- ducing the Captain, I did no such thing." " Well, well, he's got a-poaching into our preserves some- how. He's evidently sweet upon the young woman, and is a more fashionable chap than either of us two. We must get him out of the house, sir we must circumwent him; and then, Mr. Eglantine, will be time enough for you and me to try which is the best man." "He the best man ! " thought Eglantine ; " the little, bald, unsightly tailor-creature ! A man with no more soul than his srnoothing-hiron ! " The perfumer, as may be imagined, did not utter this sentiment aloud, but expressed himself quite willing to enter into any hamicable arrange- ment, by which the new candidate for Miss Crump's favor must be thrown over. It was, accordingly, agreed between the two gentlemen that they should coalesce against the common enemy ; that they should, by reciting many per- fectly well-founded stories in the Captain's disfavor, influ- ence the minds of Miss Crump's parents, and of herself, if possible, against this wolf in sheep's clothing ; and that, when they were once fairly rid of him, each should be at liberty, as before, to prefer his own claim. " I have thought of a subject," said the little tailor, turn- ing very red, and hemming and hawing a great deal. " I've thought, I say, of a pint, which may be resorted to with advantage at the present juncture, and in which each of us may be useful to the other. An exchange, Mr. Eglantine ; do you take ? " " Do you mean an accommodation-bill ? " said Eglantine, whose mind ran a good deal on that species of exchange. " Pooh, nonsense, sir ! The name of our firm is, I flatter myself, a little more up in the market than some other peo- ple's names." " Do you mean to insult the name of Archibald Eglan- tine, sir ? I'd have you to know that at three months " " Nonsense ! " says Mr. Woolsey, mastering his emotion, "There's no use a-quarrelling, Mr. E. : we're not in love 166 MEN'S WIVES. with each other, I know that. You wish me hanged, or as good, I know that ! " " Indeed I don't, sir ! " " You do, sir ; I tell you, you do ! and what's more, I wish the same to you transported, at any rate ! But as two sailors, when a boat's a-sinking, though they hate each other ever so much, will help and bale the boat out ; so, sir, let us act : let us be the two sailors." " Bail, sir ? " said Eglantine, as usual mistaking the drift of the argument. "I'll bail no man! If you're in diffi- culties, I think you had better go to your senior partner, Mr. Woolsey." And Eglantine's cowardly little soul was filled with a savage satisfaction to think that his enemy was in distress, and actually obliged to come to him for succor. " You're enough to make Job swear, you great fat stupid lazy old barber ! " roared Mr. Woolsey, in a fury. Eglantine jumped up and made for the bell-rope. The gallant little tailor laughed. " There's no need to call in Betsy," said he. " I'm not a-going to eat you, Eglantine ; you're a bigger man than me : if you were just to fall on me, you'd smother me ! Just sit still on the sofa and listen to reason." " Well, sir, pro-ceed," said the barber with a gasp. " Now, listen ! What's the darling wish of your heart ? I know it, sir ! you've told it to Mr. Tressle, sir, and other gents at the club. The darling wish of your heart, sir, is to have a slap-up coat turned out of the ateliers of Messrs. Linsey, Woolsey, and Company. You said you'd give twenty guineas for one of our coats, you know you did ! Lord Bolsterton's a fatter man than you, and look what a figure we turn him out. Can any firm in England dress Lord Bolsterton but us, so as to make his lordship look decent ? I defy 'em, sir ! We could have given Daniel Lambert a figure ! " " If I want a coat, sir," said Mr. Eglantine, " and I don't deny it, there's some people want a head of hair ! " " That's the very point I was coming to," said the tailor, resuming the violent blush which was mentioned as having suffused his countenance at the beginning of the conversa- tion. "Let us have terms of mutual accommodation. Make me a wig, Mr. Eglantine, and though I never yet cut a yard of cloth except for a gentleman, I'll pledge you my word I'll make you a coat." THE RAVENSWING. 167 " Will you, honor bright ? " says Eglantine. " Honor bright," says the tailor. " Look ! " and in an in- stant he drew from his pocket one of those slips of parch- ment which gentlemen of his profession carry, and putting Eglantine into the proper position, began to take the pre- liminary observations. He felt Eglantine's heart thump with happiness as his measure passed over that soft part of the perfumer's person. Then pulling down the window-blind, and looking that the door was locked, and blushing still more deeply than ever, the tailor seated himself in an arm-chair towards which Mr. Eglantine beckoned him, and, taking off his black wig, exposed his head to the great perruquier's gaze. Mr. Eglantine looked at it, measured it, manipulated it, sat for three minutes with his head in his hand and his elbow on his knee gazing at the tailor's cranium with all his might, walked around it twice or thrice, and then said, "It's enough, Mr. Woolsey. Consider the job as done. And now, sir," said he, with a greatly relieved air "and now, Woolsey, let us 'ave a glass of cura$oa to celebrate this hauspicious meeting." The tailor, however, stiffly replied that he never drank in a morning, and left the room without offering to shake Mr. Eglantine by the hand: for he despised that gentleman very heartily, and himself, too, for coming to any compro- mise with him, and for so far demeaning himself as to make a coat for a barber. Looking from his chambers on the other side of the street, that inevitable Mr. "Walker saw the tailor issuing from the perfumer's shop, and was at no loss to guess that something extraordinary must be in progress when two such bitter enemies met together. CHAPTER III. WHAT CAME OF MR. WALKER'S DISCOVERY OF THE " BOOTJACK." T is very easy to state how the Captain came to take up that proud position at the "Bootjack" which we have seen him occupy on the evening when the sound of the fatal " brava "so as- tonished Mr. Eglantine. The mere entry into the establishment was, of course, not difficult. Any person by simply uttering the words, " A pint of beer," was free of the __ ___ "Bootjack"; and it was some such watchword that Howard Walker employed when he made his first appear- ance. He requested to be shown into a parlor where he might repose himself for a while, and was ushered into that very sanctum where the " Kidney Club " met. Then, .he stated that the beer was the best he had ever tasted, except in Bavaria, and in some parts of Spain, he added ; and professing to be extremely "peckish," requested to know if there were any cold meat in the house whereof he could make a dinner. " I don't usually dine at this hour, landlord," said he, flinging down a half-sovereign for payment of the beer ; "but your parlor looks so comfortable and the Windsor chairs are so snug, that I'm sure I could not dine better at the first club in London." " One of the first clubs in London is held in this very room," said Mr. Crump, very well pleased ; " and attended by some of the best gents in town too. We call it the 'Kidney Club.'" 168 THE RAVENSWING. 169 " Why, bless my soul ! it is the very club my friend Eglantine has so often talked to me about, and attended by some of the tip-top tradesmen of the metropolis ! " " There's better men here than Mr. Eglantine," replied Mr. Crump; "though he's a good man I don't say he's not a good man but there's better. Mr. Clinker, sir; Mr. Woolsey, of the house of Linsey, Woolsey, and Co. " " The great army-clothiers ! " cried Walker ; " the first house in town ! " and so continued, with exceeding ur- banity, holding conversation with Mr. Crump, until the honest landlord retired delighted, and told Mrs. Crump in the bar that there was a tip-top swell in the "Kidney" parlor, who was a-going to have his dinner there. Fortune favored the brave Captain in every way. It was just Mr. Crump's own dinner-hour; and on Mrs. Crump stepping into the parlor to ask the guest whether he would like a slice of the joint to which the family were 170 MEN'S WIVES. about to sit down, fancy that lady's start of astonishment at recognizing Mr. Eglantine's facetious friend of the day before. The Captain at once demanded permission to partake of the joint at the family table ; the lady could not with any great reason deny this request ; the Captain was inducted into the bar ; and Miss Crump, who always came down late for dinner, was even more astonished than her mamma on beholding the occupier of the fourth place at the table. Had she expected to see the fascinating stranger so soon again ? I think she had. Her big eyes said as much, as, furtively looking up at Mr. Walker's face, they caught his looks ; and then bouncing down again towards her plate, pretended to be very busy in looking at the boiled beef and carrots there displayed. She blushed far redder than those carrots, but her shining ringlets hid her confusion together with her lovely face. Sweet Morgiana ! the billiard-ball eyes had a tremendous effect on the Captain. They fell plump, as it were, into the pocket of his heart ; and he gallantly proposed to treat the company to a bottle of champagne, which was accepted without much difficulty. Mr. Crump, under pretence of going to the cellar (where he had said he had some cases of the finest champagne in Europe), called Dick, the boy, to him, and despatched him with all speed to a wine-merchant's, where a couple of bot- tles of the liquor were procured. "Bring up two bottles, Mr. C.," Captain Walker gal- lantly said when Crump made his move, as it were, to the cellar ; and it may be imagined after the two bottles were drunk (of which Mrs. Crump took at least nine glasses to her share) how happy, merry, and confidential the whole party had become. Crump told his story of the "Boot- jack," and whose boot it had drawn ; the former Miss Delancy expatiated on her past theatrical life, and the pictures hanging round the room. Miss was equally com- municative ; and, in short, the Captain had all the secrets of the little family in his possession ere sunset. He knew that Miss cared little for either of her suitors, about whom mamma and papa had a little quarrel. He heard Mrs. Crump talk of Morgiana's property, and fell more in love with her than ever. Then came tea, the luscious crumpet, the quiet game at cribbage, and the song the song which poor Eglantine heard, and which caused Woolsey's rage and his despair. THE RAVENSWING. 171 At the close of the evening the tailor was in a greater rage, and the perfumer in greater despair, than ever. He had made his little present of eau-de-Cologne. " Oh, fie ! " says the Captain, with a horse laugh, "it smells of the shop!" He taunted the tailor about his wig, and the honest fellow had only an oath to give by way of repartee. He told his stories about his club and his lordly friends. What chance had either against the all-accomplished Howard Walker ? Old Crump, with a good innate sense of right and wrong, hated the man ; Mrs. Crump did not feel quite at her ease regarding him ; but Morgiana thought him the most de- lightful person the world ever produced. Eglantine's usual morning costume was a blue satin neck- cloth embroidered with butterflies and ornamented with a brandy-ball brooch, a light shawl waistcoat, and a rhubarb- colored coat of the sort which, I believe, are called Tag- lionis, and which have no waist-buttons, and make a pretence, as it were, to have no waists, but are in reality adopted by the fat in order to give them a waist. Nothing easier for an obese man than to have a waist ; he has but to pinch his middle part a little and the very fat on either side pushed violently forward makes a waist, as it were, and our worthy perfumer's figure was that of a bolster cut almost in two with a string. Walker presently saw him at his shop-door grinning in this costume, twiddling his ringlets with his dumpy greasy fingers, glittering with oil and rings, and looking so exceed- ingly contented and happy that the estate-agent felt assured some very satisfactory conspiracy had been planned be- tween the tailor and him. How was Mr. Walker to learn what the scheme was ? Alas ! the poor fellow's vanity and delight were such, that he could not keep silent as to the cause of his satisfaction, and rather than not mention it at all, in the fulness of his heart he would have told his secret to Mr. Mossrose himself. " When I get my coat," thought the Bond Street Alnas- char, " I'll hire of Snaffle that easy-going cream-colored 'oss that he bought from Astley's, and I'll canter through the Park, and won't I pass through Little Bunker's Build- ings, that's all ? I'll wear my gray trousers with the velvet stripe down the side, and get my spurs lacquered up, and a French polish to my boot ; and if I don't do for the Captain and the tailor too, my name's not Archibald. 172 MEN'S WIVES. And I know what I'll do : I'll hire the small Clarence, and invite the Crumps to dinner at the ' Gar and Starter ' ' (this was his facetious way of calling the " Star and Gar- ter "), " and I'll ride by them all the way to Richmond. It's rather a long ride, but with Snaffle's soft saddle I can do it pretty easy, I dare say." And so the honest fellow built castles upon castles in the air ; and the last most beautiful vision of all was Miss Crump " in white satting, with a horange-flower in her 'air," putting him in posses- sion of "her lovely 'and before the halter of St. George's, 'Anover Square." As for Woolsey, Eglantine determined that he should have the best wig his art could produce ; for he had not the least fear of his rival. These points then being arranged to the poor fellow's satisfaction, what does he do but send out for half a quire of pink note-paper, and in a filigree envelope despatch a note of invitation to the ladies at the " Bootjack " : "BOWEK OF BLOOM, BOND STREET, " Thursday. "Mr. Archibald Eglantine presents his compliments to Mrs. and Miss Crump, and requests the honor and pleasure of their company at the ' Star and Garter ' at Richmond to an early dinner on Sunday next. " // agreeable, Mr. Eglantine's carriage will be at your door at three o'clock, and I propose to accompany them on horseback if agreeable likewise." This note was sealed with yellow wax, and sent to its destination ; and of course Mr. Eglantine went himself for the answer in the evening : and of course he told the ladies to look out for a certain new coat he was going to sport on Sunday ; and of course Mr. Walker happens to call the next day with spare tickets for Mrs. Crump and her daugh- ter, when the whole secret was laid bare to him, how the ladies were going to Richmond on Sunday in Mr. Snaffle's Clarence, and how Mr. Eglantine was to ride by their side. Mr. Walker did not keep horses of his own ; his magnifi- cent friends at the " Regent " had plenty in their stables, and some of these were at livery at the establishment of the Captain's old "college" companion, Mr. Snaffle. It was easy, therefore, for the Captain to renew his acquaint- ance with that individual. So, hanging on the arm of my Lord Vauxhall, Captain Walker next day made his appear- ance at Snaffle's livery-stables, and looked at the various THE RAVENSWING. 173 horses there for sale or at bait, and soon managed, by put- ting some facetious questions to Mr. Snaffle regarding the " Kidney Club," &c., to place himself on a friendly footing with that gentleman, and to learn from him what horse Mr. Eglantine was to ride on Sunday. The monster Walker had fully determined in his mind that Eglantine should fall off that horse in the course of his Sunday's ride. " That sing'lar hanimal," said Mr. Snaffle, pointing to the old horse, " is the celebrated Hemperor that was the won- der of Hastley's some years back, and was parted with by Mr. Ducrow honly because his feelin's wouldn't allow him to keep him no longer after the death of the first Mrs. D., who invariably rode him. I bought him, thinking that p'raps ladies and Cockney bucks might like to ride him (for his haction is wonderful, and he canters like a harm-chair) ; but he's not safe on any day except Sundays." "And why's that?" asked Captain Walker. "Why is he safer on Sundays than other days ?" "Because there's no music in the streets on Sundays. The first gent that rode him found himself dancing a qua- drille in Hupper Brook Street to an 'urdy-gurdy that was playing ' Cherry Kipe,' such is the natur of the hanimal. And if you reklect the play of the ' Battle of Hoysterlitz,' in which Mrs. D. hacted ' the female hussar,' you may re- member how she and the horse died in the third act to the toon of ' God preserve the Emperor,' from which this horse took his name. Only play that toon to him, and he rears hisself up, beats the hair in time with his forelegs, and then sinks gently to the ground as though he were carried off by a cannon-ball. He served a lady hopposite Hapsley Ouse so one day, and since then I've never let him out to a friend except on Sunday, when, in course, there's no danger. Heglantine is a friend of mine, and of course I wouldn't put the poor fellow on a hanimal I couldn't trust." After a little more conversation, my lord and his friend quitted Mr. Snaffle's, and as they walked away towards the "Kegent," his lordship might be heard shrieking with laughter, crying, "Capital, by jingo ! exthlent ! Dwive down in the dwag ! Take Lungly ! Worth a thousand pound, by Jove!" and similar ejaculations, indicative of exceeding delight. On Saturday morning, at ten o'clock to a moment, Mr. Woolsey called at Mr. Eglantine's with a yellow handker- 174 MEN'S WIVES. chief under his arm. It contained the best and handsomest body-coat that ever gentleman put on. It fitted Eglan- tine to a nicety it did not pinch him in the least, and yet it was of so exquisite a cut that the perfumer found, as he gazed delighted in the glass, that he looked like a man- ly, portly, high-bred gentleman a lieutenant-colonel in the army, at the very least. " You're a full man, Eglantine," said the tailor, delighted, too, with his own work ; " but that can't be helped. You look more like Hercules than Falstaff now, sir ; and if a coat can make a gentleman, a gentleman you are. Let me recommend you to sink the blue cravat, and take the stripes off your trousers. Dress quiet, sir; draw it mild. Plain waistcoat, dark trousers, black neck-cloth, black hat, and if there's a better-dressed man in Europe to-morrow I'm a Dutchman." "Thank you, Woolsey thank you, my dear sir," said the charmed perfumer. "And now I'll just trouble you to try on this here." The wig had been made with equal skill ; it was not in the florid style which Mr. Eglantine loved in his own per- son, but, as the perfumer said, a simple, straightforward head of hair. " It seems as if it had grown there all your life, Mr. Woolsey ; nobody would tell that it was not your nat'ral color " (Mr. Woolsey blushed) " it makes you look ten year younger ; and as for that scarecrow yonder, you'll never, I think, want to wear that again." Woolsey looked in the glass, and was delighted too. The two rivals shook hands and straightway became friends, and in the overflowing of his heart the perfumer mentioned to the tailor the party which he had arranged for the next day, and offered him a seat in the carriage and at the din- ner at the " Star and Garter." "Would you like to ride ? " said Eglantine, with rather a consequential air. " Snaffle will mount you, and we can go one on each side of the ladies, if you like." But Woolsey humbly said he was not a riding man, and gladly consented to take a place in the Clarence carriage, provided he was allowed to bear half the expenses of the entertainment. This proposal was agreed to by Mr. Eglan- tine, and the two gentlemen parted to meet once more at the " Kidneys " that night, when everybody was edified by the friendly tone adopted between them. Mr. Snaffle, at the club meeting, made the very same pro- . THE RAVENSWING. 175 posal to Mr. Woolsey that the perfumer had made; and stated that as Eglantine was going to ride Hernperor, Wool- sey, at least, ought to mount too. But he was met by the same modest refusal on the tailor's part, who stated that he had never mounted a horse yet, and preferred greatly the use of a coach. Eglantine's character as a " swell " rose greatly with the club that evening. Two o'clock on Sunday came: the two beaux arrived punctually at the door to receive the two smiling ladies. " Bless us, Mr. Eglantine ! " said Miss Crump, quite struck by him, " I never saw you look so handsome in your life." He could have flung his arms around her neck at the compliment. "And law, Ma ! what has happened to Mr. Woolsey ? doesn't he look ten years younger than yes- terday ? " Mamma assented, and Woolsey bowed gallantly, and the two gentlemen exchanged a nod of hearty friend- ship. The day was delightful. Eglantine pranced along mag- nificently on his cantering arm-chair, with his hat on one ear, his left hand on his side, and his head flung over his shoulder, and throwing under-glances at Morgiana when- ever the " Emperor " was in advance of the Clarence. The "Emperor" pricked up his ears a little uneasily passing the Ebenezer chapel in Richmond, where the congregation were singing a hymn, but beyond this no accident occurred ; nor was Mr. Eglantine in the least stiff or fatigued by the time the party reached Richmond, where he arrived time enough to give his steed into the charge of a hostler, and to pre- sent his elbow to the ladies as they alighted from the Clar- ence carriage. What this jovial party ate for dinner at the " Star and Garter " need not here be set down. If they did not drink champagne I am very much mistaken. They were as merry as any four people in Christendom ; and between the bewildering attentions of the perfumer, and the manly cour- tesy of the tailor, Morgiana very likely forgot the gallant captain, or, at least, was very happy in his absence. At eight o'clock they began to drive homewards. " Won't you come into the carriage ? " said Morgiana to Eglantine, with one of her tenderest looks ; " Dick can ride the horse." But Archibald was too great a lover of equestrian exercise. " I'm afraid to trust anybody on this horse," said he, with a knowing look ; and so he pranced away by the side of the 176 MEN'S WIVES. little carriage. The moon was brilliant, and, with the aid of the gas-lamps, illuminated the whole face of the country in a way inexpressibly lively. Presently, in the distance, the sweet and plaintive notes of a bugle were heard, and the performer, with great deli- cacy, executed a religious air. " Music, too ! heavenly ! " said Morgiana, throwing up her eyes to the stars. The music came nearer and nearer, and the delight of the com- pany was only more intense. The fly was going at about four miles an hour, and the " Emperor " began cantering to time at the same rapid pace. " This must be some gallantry of yours, Mr. "Woolsey," said the romantic Morgiana, turning upon that gentleman. " Mr. Eglantine treated us to the dinner, and you have pro- vided us with the music." Now "Woolsey had been a little, a very little, dissatisfied during the course of the evening's entertainment, by fancy- ing that Eglantine, a much more voluble person than him- self, had obtained rather an undue share of the ladies' favor ; and as he himself paid half of the expenses, he felt very much vexed to think that the perfumer should take all the credit of the business to himself. So when Miss Crump asked if he had provided the music, he foolishly made an evasive reply to her query, and rather wished her to imag- ine that he had performed that piece of gallantry. "If it pleases you Miss Morgiana," said this artful Schneider, " what more need any man ask ? wouldn't I have all Drury Lane orchestra to please you ? " The bugle had by this time arrived quite close to the Clarence carriage, and if Morgiana had looked round she might have seen whence the music came. Behind her came slowly a drag, or private stage-coach, with four horses. Two grooms with cockades and folded arms were behind ; and, driving on the box, a little gentleman with a blue bird's- eye neck-cloth, and a white coat. A bugleman was by his side, who performed the melodies which so delighted Miss Crump. He played very gently and sweetly, and "God save the King " trembled so softly out of the brazen orifice of his bugle, that the Crumps, the tailor, and Eglantine himself, who was riding close by the carriage, were quite charmed and subdued. " Thank you, dear Mr. Woolsey," said the grateful Mor- giana; which made Eglantine stare, and "Woolsey was just saying, "Really, upon my word, I've nothing to do with * I THE RAVENSWING. 177 it," when the man on the drag-box said to the bugleman, "Now!" The bugleman began the tune of " Heaven preserve our Emperor Fra-an-cis, Rum tum-ti-tum-ti-titti-ti." At the sound, the " Emperor " reared himself (with a roar from Mr. Eglantine) reared and beat the air with his fore-paws. Eglantine flung his arms around the beast's neck ; still he kept beating time with his fore-paws. Mrs. Crump screamed ; Mr. Woolsey, Dick, the Clarence coach- man, Lord Vauxhall ( for it was he), and his lordship's two grooms, burst into a shout of laughter; Morgiana cries " Mercy ! mercy ! " Eglantine yells " Stop ! " " Wo ! " "Oh ! " and a thousand ejaculations of hideous terror; until at last, down drops the " Emperor " stone dead in the mid- dle of the road as if carried off by a cannon-ball. Fancy the situation, ye callous souls who laugh at the misery of humanity, fancy the situation of poor Eglan- tine under the " Emperor " ! He had fallen very easy, the animal lay perfectly quiet, and the perfumer was to all intents and purposes as dead as the animal. He had not fainted, but he was immovable with terror ; he lay in a puddle, and thought it was his own blood gushing from him : and he would have lain there until Monday morning, if my lord's grooms, descending, had not dragged him by the coat-collars from under the beast, who still lay quiet. " Play ' Charming Judy Callaghan/ will ye ? " says Mr. Snaffle's man, the fly-driver; on which the bugler per- formed that lively air, and up started the horse, and the grooms, who were rubbing Mr. Eglantine down against a lamp-post, invited him to remount. But his heart was too broken for that. The ladies gladly made room for him in the Clarence. Dick mounted "Emperor" and rode homewards. The drag, too, drove away, playing, " dear, what can the matter be ? " and with a scowl of furious hate, Mr. Eglantine sat and re- garded his rival. His pantaloons were split, and his coat torn up the back. "Are you hurt much, dear Mr. Archibald?" said Mor- giana, with unaffected compassion. " N-not much," said the poor fellow, ready to burst into tears. 12 178 MEN'S WIVES. " Oh, Mr. Woolsey," added the good-natured girl, " how could you play such a trick ? " "Upon my word," Woolsey began, intending to plead innocence ; put the ludicrousness of the situation was once more too much for him, and he burst out into a roar of laughter. " You ! you cowardly beast ! " howled out Eglantine, now driven to fury, " you laugh at me, you miserable cretur ! Take that, sir ! " and he i'ell upon him with all his might and wellnigh throttled the tailor, and pummelling his eyes, his nose, his ears, with inconceivable rapidity, wrenched, finally, his wig off his head and flung it into the road. Morgiana saw that Woolsey had red hair. * * A French proverbe furnished the author with the notion of the rivalry between the Barber and the Tailor. I CHAPTER IV. IN WHICH THE HEROINE HAS A NUMBER MORE LOVERS, AND CUTS A VERY DASHING FIGURE IN THE WORLD. WO years have elapsed since the festival at Richmond, which, begun so peaceably, ended in such general up- roar. Morgiana never could be brought to pardon Wool- sey's red hair, nor to help laughing at Eglantine's dis- asters, nor could the two gentlemen be reconciled to one another. Woolsey, in- deed, sent a challenge to the perfumer to meet him with pistols, which the later declined, saying, justly, that tradesmen had no business with such weapons ; on this the tailor proposed to meet him with coats off, and have it out like men, in the presence of their friends of the " Kid- ney Club." The perfumer said he would be party to no such vulgar transaction ; on which, Woolsey, exasperated, made an oath that he would tweak the perfumer's nose so surely as he ever entered the club-room ; and thus one member of the " Kidneys " was compelled to vacate his arm-chair. Woolsey himself attended every meeting regularly, but he did not evince that gayety and good-humor which ren- der men's company agreeable in clubs. On arriving, he would order the boy to " tell him when that scoundrel Eg- lantine came " ; and, hanging up his hat on a peg, would scowl round the room, and tuck up his sleeves very high, and stretch, and shake his fingers and wrists, as if getting them ready for that pull of the nose which he intended to 179 180 MEN'S WIVES. bestow upon his rival. So prepared, lie would sit down and smoke his pipe quite silently, glaring at all, and jumping up, and hitching up his coat-sleeves, when any one entered the room. The "Kidneys" did not like this behavior. Clinker ceased to come. Bustard, the poulterer, ceased to come. As for Snaffle, he also disappeared, for Woolsey wished to make him answerable for the misbehavior of Eglantine, and proposed to him the duel which the latter had de- clined. So Snaffle went. Presently they all went, except the tailor and Tressle, who lived down the street, and these two would sit and puff their tobacco, one on each side of Crump, the landlord, as silent as Indian chiefs in a wigwam. There grew to be more and more room for poor old Crump in his chair and in his clothes ; the " Kidneys " were gone, and why should he remain ? One Saturday he did not come down to preside at the club (as he still fondly called it), and the Saturday following Tressle had made a coffin for him ; and Woolsey, with the undertaker by his side, followed to the grave the father of the " Kid- neys." Mrs. Crump was now alone in the world. " How alone ? " says some innocent and respected reader. Ah! my dear sir, do you know so little of human nature as not to be aware that, one week after the Richmond affair, Morgiana married Captain Walker ? That did she privately, of course ; and, after the ceremony, came tripping back to her parents, as young people do in plays, and said, '< For- give me, dear Pa and Ma, I'm married, and here is my hus- band, the Captain ! " Papa and mamma did forgive her, as why shouldn't they ? and papa paid over her fortune to her, which she carried home delighted to the Captain. This happened several months before the demise of old Crump ; and Mrs. Captain Walker was on the Continent with her Howard when that melancholy event took place ; hence Mrs. Crump's loneliness and unprotected condition. Mor- giana had not latterly seen much of the old people ; how could she, moving in her exalted sphere, receive at her genteel new residence in the Edgeware Koad, the old pub- lican and his wife ? Being, then, alone in the world, Mrs. Crump could not abear, she said, to live in the house where she had been so respected and happy: so she sold the good-will of the "Bootjack," and, with the money arising from this sale THE RAVENSWING. 181 and her own private fortune, being able to muster some sixty pounds per annum, retired to the neighborhood of her dear old " Sadler's Wells," where she boarded with one of Mrs. Serle's forty pupils. Her heart was broken, she said; but nevertheless, about nine months after Mr. Crump's death, the wallflowers, nasturtiums, polyanthuses and convolvuluses began to blossom under her bonnet as usual ; in a year she was dressed quite as fine as ever, and now never missed the "Wells," or some other place of entertainment, one single night, but was as regular as the box-keeper. Nay, she was a buxom widow still, and an old flame of hers, risk, so celebrated as pantaloon in Gri- maldi's time, but now doing the "heavy fathers" at the " Wells," proposed to her to exchange her name for his. But this proposal the worthy widow declined altogether. To say truth, she was exceedingly proud of her daughter, Mrs. Captain Walker. They did not see each other much at first ; but every now and then Mrs. Crump would pay a visit to the folks in Connaught Square ; and on the days when " the Captain's " lady called in the City Eoad, there 182 MEN'S WIVES. was not a single official at "The "Wells," from the first tradegian down to the call-boy, who was not made aware of the fact. It has been said that Morgiana carried home her fortune in her own reticule, and smiling placed the money in her husband's lap; and hence the reader may imagine, who knows Mr. Walker to be an extremely selfish fellow, that a great scene of anger must have taken place, and many coarse oaths and epithets of abuse must have come from him, when he found that five hundred pounds was all that his wife had, although he had expected five thousand with her. But, to say the truth, Walker was at this time almost in love with his handsome, rosy, good-humored, simple wife. They had made a fortnight's tour, during which they had been exceedingly happy; and there was something so frank and touching in the way in which the kind creature flung her all into his lap, saluting him with a hearty embrace at the same time, and wishing that it were a thousand billion billion times more, so that her darling Howard might enjoy it, that the man would have been a ruffian indeed could he have found it in his heart to be angry with her ; and so he kissed her in return, and patted her on the shining ringlets, and then counted over the notes with rather a disconsolate air, and ended by locking them up in his portfolio. In fact, she had never deceived him; Eglantine had, and he in return had out-tricked Eglantine ; and so warm were his affections for Morgiana at this time, that, upon my word and honor, I don't think he repented of his bargain. Besides, five hundred pounds in crisp bank-notes was a sum of money such as the Cap- tain was not in the habit of handling every day ; a dashing, sanguine fellow, he fancied there was no end to it, and al- ready thought of a dozen ways by which it should increase and multiply into a plum. Woe is me ! Has not many a simple soul examined five new hundred-pound notes in this way, and calculated their powers of duration and multipli- cation ? This subject, however, is too painful to be dwelt on. Let us hear what Walker did with his money. Why, he fur- nished the house in the Edgeware Road before mentioned, he ordered a handsome service of plate, he sported a phae- ton and two ponies, he kept a couple of smart maids and a groom foot-boy, in fact, he mounted just such a neat, unpretending, gentlemanlike establishment as becomes a THE RAVENSWING. 183 respectable young couple on their outset in life. " I've sown my wild oats," he would say to his acquaintances ; " a few years since, perhaps, I would have longed to cut a dash, but now prudence is the word ; and I've settled every farthing of Mrs. Walker's fifteen thousand on herself." And the best proof that the world had confidence in him is the fact that, for the articles of plate, equipage, and furniture, which have been mentioned as being in his possession, he did not pay one single shilling : and so prudent was he, that but for turnpikes, postage-stamps, and king's taxes, he hardly had occasion to change a five-pound note of his wife's fortune. To tell the truth, Mr. Walker had determined to make his fortune. And what is easier in London ? Is not the share-market open to all ? Do not Spanish and Columbian bonds rise and fall ? For what are companies invented but to place thousands in the pockets of shareholders and directors ? Into these commercial pursuits the gallant Captain now plunged with great energy, and made some brilliant hits at first starting, and bought and sold so opportunely, that his name began to rise in the City as a capitalist, and might be seen in the printed list of directors of many excellent and philanthropic schemes, of which there is never any lack in London. Business to the amount of thousands was done at his agency; shares of vast value were bought and sold under his management. How poor Mr. Eglantine used to hate him and envy him, as from the door of his emporium (the firm was Eglantine and Mossrose now) he saw the Captain daily arrive in his pony-phaeton, and heard of the start he had taken in life. The only regret Mrs. Walker had was that she did not enjoy enough of her husband's society. His business called him away all day ; his business, too, obliged him to leave her of evenings very frequently alone ; whilst he (always in pursuit of business) was dining with his great friends at the club, and drinking claret and champagne to the same end. She was a perfectly good-natured and simple soul, and never made him a single reproach ; but when he could pass an evening at home with her she was delighted, and when he could drive with her in the Park she was happy for a week after. On these occasions, and in the fulness of her heart, she would drive to her mother and tell her story. " Howard drove with me in the Park yesterday, mamma ; " " Howard has promised to take me to the Opera," and so 184 MEN'S WIVES. forth. And that evening the manager, Mr. Gawler, the first tragedian, Mrs. Serle and her forty pupils, all the box- keepers, bonnet-women nay, the ginger-beer girls them- selves, at " The Wells," knew that Captain and Mrs. Walker were at Kensington Gardens, or were to have the Marchioness of Billingsgate's box at the Opera. One night joy of joys! Mrs. Captain Walker appeared in a private box at "The Wells." That's she with the black ringlets and Cashmere shawl, smelling-bottle, and black velvet gown, and bird of paradise in her hat. Good- ness gracious ! how they all acted at her, Gawler and all, and how happy Mrs. Crump was ! She kissed her daughter between all the acts, she nodded to all her friends on the stage, in the slips, or in the real water ; she introduced her daughter, Mrs. Captain Walker, to the box-opener; and Melvin Delamere (the first comic), Canterfield (the tyrant), and Jonesini (the celebrated Fontarabian Statuesque), were all on the steps, and shouted for Mrs. Captain Walker's carriage, and waved their hats, and bowed as the little pony-phaeton drove away. Walker, in his moustaches, had come in at the end of the play, and was not a little grati- fied by the compliments paid to himself and lady. Among the other articles of luxury with which the Cap- tain furnished his house, we must not omit to mention an extremely grand piano, which occupied four-fifths of Mrs. Walker's little back drawing-room, and at which she was in the habit of practising continually. All day and all night during Walker's absences (and these occurred all night and all day) you might hear the whole street might hear the voice of the lady at No. 23, gurgling, and shaking, and quavering, as ladies do when they practise. The street did not approve of the continuance of the noise ; but neighbors are difficult to please, and what would Morgi- ana have had to do if she had ceased to sing ? It would be hard to lock a blackbird in a cage and prevent him from singing too. And so Walker's blackbird, in the snug little cage in the Edgeware Road, sang and was not unhappy. After the pair had been married for about a year, the omnibus that passes both by Mrs. Crump's house near " The Wells," and by Mrs. Walker's street off the Edge- ware Road, brought up the former-named lady almost every day to her daughter. She came when the Captain had gone to his business ; she stayed to a two-o'clock dinner with Morgiana, she drove with her in the pony- THE RAVENSWING. 185 carriage round the Park, but she never stopped later than six. Had she not to go to the play at seven? And, besides, the Captain might come home with some of his great friends, and he always swore and grumbled much if he found his mother-in-law on the premises. As for Morgi- ana, she was one of those women who encourage despotism in husbands. What the husband says must be right, because he says it; what he orders must be obeyed tremblingly. Mrs. Walker gave up her entire reason to her lord. Why was it? Before marriage she had been an independent little person ; she had far more brains than her Howard. I think it must have been his moustaches that frightened her, and caused in her this humility. Selfish husbands have this advantage in maintaining with easy-minded wives a rigid and inflexible behavior, viz., that if they do by any chance grant a little favor, the ladies receive it with such transports of gratitude as they would never think of showing to a lord and master who was accustomed to give them everything they asked for ; and hence, when Captain Walker signified his assent to his wife's prayer that she should take a singing-master, she thought his generosity almost divine, and fell upon her mamma's neck, when that lady came the next day, and said what a dear adorable angel her Howard was, and what ought she not to do for a man who had taken her from her humble situation, and raised her to be what she was ! What she was, poor soul ! She was the wife of a swind- ling parvenu gentleman. She received visits from six ladies of her husband's acquaintances, two attorneys' ladies, his bill-broker's lady, and one or two more, of whose characters we had best, if you please, say nothing ; and she thought it an honor to be so distinguished : as if Walker had been a Lord Exeter to marry a humble maiden, or a noble prince to fall in love with a humble Cinderella, or a majestic Jove to come down from heaven and woo a Semele. Look through the world, respectable reader, and among your honorable acquaintances, and say if this sort of faith in women is not very frequent ? They will believe in their husbands, whatever the latter do. Let John be dull, ugly, vulgar, and a humbug, his Mary Ann never finds it out ; let him tell his stories ever so many times, there is she always ready with her kind smile ; let him be stingy, she says he is prudent; let him quarrel with his best friend, she says he is always in the right; let him be 186 MEN'S WIVES. prodigal, she says lie is generous, and that his health requires enjoyment; let him be idle, he must have relaxa- tion ; and she will pinch herself and her household that he may have a guinea for his club. Yes ; and every morning, as she wakes and looks at the face, snoring on the pillow by her side every morning, I say, she blesses that dull, ugly countenance, and the dull ugly soul reposing there, and thinks both are something divine. I want to know how it is that women do not find out their husbands to be humbugs ? Nature has so provided it, and thanks to her. When last year they were acting the " Midsummer Night's Dream," and all the boxes began to roar with great coarse heehaws at Titania hugging Bottom's long, long ears to me, considering these things, it seemed that there were a hundred other male brutes squatted round about, and treated just as reasonably as Bottom was. Their Titanias lulled them to sleep in their laps, summoned a hundred smiling, delicate, household fairies to tickle their gross intellects and minister to their vulgar pleasures ; and (as the above remarks are only supposed to apply to honest women loving their own lawful spouses) a mercy it is that no wicked Puck is in the way to open their eyes, and point out their folly. Cui bono ? let them live on in their deceit : I know two lovely ladies who will read this, and will say it is just, very likely, and not see in the least that it has been written regarding them. Another point of sentiment, and one curious to speculate on. Have you not remarked the immense works of art that women get through? The worsted-work sofas, the counterpanes patched or knitted (but these are among the old-fashioned in the country), the bushels of pincushions, the albums they laboriously fill, the tremendous pieces of music they practise, the thousand other fiddle-faddles which occupy the attention of the dear souls nay, have we not seen them seated of evenings in a squad or company, Louisa employed at the worsted-work before mentioned, Eliza at the pincushions, Amelia at card-racks or filigree matches, and, in the midst, Theodosia with one of the can- dles, reading out a novel aloud ? Ah ! my dear sir, mortal creatures must be very hard put to it for amusement, be sure of that, when they are forced to gather together in a company and hear novels read aloud! They only do it because they can't help it, depend upon it : it is a sad life, a poor pastime. Mr. Dickens, in his American book, tells THE RAVENSWING. 187 of the prisoners at the silent prison, how they had orna- mented their rooms, some of them with a frightful pretti- ness and elaboration. Women's fancy-work is of this sort often only prison work, done because there was no other exercising-ground for their poor little thoughts and fingers ; and hence these wonderful pincushions are executed, these counterpanes woven, these sonatas learned. By every- thing sentimental, when I see two kind, innocent, fresh- cheeked young women go to a piano, and sit down opposite to it upon two chairs piled with more or less music-books (according to their convenience), and, so seated, go through a set of double-barrelled variations upon this or that tune by Herz or Kalkbrenner, I say, far from receiving any satisfaction at the noise made by the performance, my too susceptible heart is given up entirely to bleeding for the performers. What hours, and weeks, nay, preparatory years of study, has that infernal jig cost them! What sums has papa paid, what scoldings has mamma admin- istered ("Lady Bullblock does not play herself," Sir Thomas says, "but she has naturally the finest ear for music ever known ! ") ; what evidences of slavery, in a word, are there ! It is the condition of the young lady's existence. She breakfasts at eight, she does " Mangnall's Questions" with the governess till ten, she practises till one, she walks in the square with bars round her till two, then she practises again, then she sews or hems, or reads French, or Hume's "History," then she conies down to play to papa, because he likes music whilst he is asleep after dinner, and then it is bedtime, and the morrow is another day with what are called the same " duties " to be gone through. A friend of mine went to call at a noble- man's house the other day, and one of the young ladies of the house came into the room with a tray on her head; this tray was to give Lady Maria a graceful carriage. Mon Dieu ! and who knows but at that moment Lady Bell was at work with a pair of her dumb namesakes, and Lady Sophy lying flat on a stretching-board ? I could write whole articles on this theme : but, peace ! we are keeping Mrs. Walker waiting all the while. Well, then, if the above disquisitions have anything to do with the story, as no doubt they have, I wish it to be under- stood that, during her husband's absence, and her own solitary confinement, Mrs. Howard Walker bestowed a prodigious quantity of her time and energy on the cultiva- 188 MEN'S WIVES. tion of her musical talent ; and having, as before stated, a very fine loud voice, speedily attained no ordinary skill in the use of it. She first had for teacher little Podmore, the fat chorus-master at " The Wells," and who had taught her mother the " Tink-a-tink " song which has been such a favorite since it first appeared. He grounded her well, and bade her eschew the singing of all those " Eagle Tavern " ballads in which her heart formerly delighted ; and when he had brought her to a certain point of skill, the honest little chorus-master said she should have a still better in- structor, and wrote a note to Captain Walker (enclosing his own little account), speaking in terms of the most flattering encomium of his lady's progress, and recommending that she should take lessons of the celebrated Baroski. Captain Walker dismissed Podmore then, and engaged Signor Baroski, at a vast expense ; as he did not fail to tell his wife. In fact, he owed Baroski no less than two hundred and twenty guineas when he was . . . But we are advanc- ing matters. Little Baroski is the author of the opera of " Eliogabalo," of the oratorio of " Purgatorio," which made such an im- mense sensation, of songs and ballet-musics innumerable. He is a German by birth, and shows such an outrageous partiality for pork and sausages, and attends at church so constantly, that I am sure there cannot be any foundation in the story that he is a member of the ancient religion. He is a fat little man, with a hooked nose and jetty whiskers, and coal-black shining eyes, and plenty of rings and jewels on his fingers and about his person, and a very considerable portion of his shirt-sleeves turned over his coat to take the air. His great hands (which can sprawl over half a piano, and produce those effects on the instru- ment for which he is celebrated) are encased in lemon- colored kids, new, or cleaned daily. Parenthetically, let us ask why so many men, with coarse red wrists and big hands, persist in the white kid glove and waistband system ? Baroski's gloves alone must cost him a little fortune ; only he says with a leer, when asked the question, " Get along vid you ; don't you know dere is a gloveress that lets me have dem very sheap ? " He rides in the Park ; has splendid lodgings in Dover Street ; and is a member of the "Regent Club," where he is a great source of amusement to the members, to whom he tells astonishing stories of his successes with the ladies, and for whom he has always play THE RAVENSWING. 189 and opera tickets in store. His eye glistens and his little heart beats when a lord speaks to him ; and he has been known to spend large sums of money in giving treats to young sprigs of fashion at Richmond and elsewhere. " In my bolyticks," he says, " I am consarevatiff to de bag-bone." In fine, he is a puppy, and withal a man of considerable genius in his profession. This gentleman then undertook to complete the musical education of Mrs. Walker. He expressed himself at once " enshanted vid her gababilities," found that the extent of her voice was " brodigious," and guaranteed that she should become a first-rate singer. The pupil was apt, the master was exceedingly skilful; and, accordingly, Mrs. Walker's progress was very remarkable ; although, for her part, honest Mrs. Crump, who used to attend her daughter's lessons, would grumble not a little at the new system, and the endless exercises which she, Morgiana, was made to go through. It was very different in her time, she said. Incledon knew no music, and who could sing so well now ? Give her a good English ballad ; it was a thousand times sweeter than your " Figaros " and " Semiramides." In spite of these objections, however, and with amazing perseverance and cheerfulness, Mrs. Walker pursued the method of study pointed out to her by her master. As soon as her husband went to the City in the morning her operations began; if he remained away at dinner, her labors still continued ! nor is it necessary for me to partic- ularize her course of study, nor, indeed, possible ; for between ourselves, none of the male Fitz-Boodles ever could sing a note, and the jargon of scales and solfeggios is quite unknown to me. But as -no man can have seen persons addicted to music without remarking the prodig- ious energies they display in the pursuit, as there is no father of daughters, however ignorant, but is aware of the piano-rattling and voice-exercising which goes on in his house from morning till night, so let all fancy, without further inquiry, how the heroine of our story was at this stage of her existence occupied. Walker was delighted with her progress, and did every- thing but pay Baroski, her instructor. We know why he didn't pay. It was his nature not to pay bills, except on extreme compulsion ; but why did not Baroski employ that extreme compulsion? Because, if he had received his money, he would have lost his pupil, and because he loved 190 MEN'S WIVES. his pupil more than money. Rather than lose her, he would have given her a guinea as well as her cachet. He would sometimes disappoint a great personage, but he never missed his attendance on her; and the truth must out that he was in love with her, as Woolsey and Eglan- tine had been before. " By the immortel Chofe ! " he would say, " dat letell ding sents me mad vid her big ice ! But only vait avile : in six veeks I can bring any voman in England on her knees to me ; and you shall see vat I vill do vid my Morgiana." He attended her for six weeks punctually, and yet Morgiana was never brought down on her knees ; he exhausted his best stock of " Gomblimends," and she never seemed disposed to receive them with anything but laughter. And, as a matter of course, he only grew more infatuated with the lovely creature who was so provokingly good-humored and so laughingly cruel. Benjamin Baroski was one of the chief ornaments of the musical profession in London ; he charged a guinea for a lesson of three-quarters of an hour abroad, and he had, furthermore, a school at his own residence, where pupils assembled in considerable numbers, and of that curious mixed kind which those may see who frequent these places of instruction. There were very innocent young ladies with their mammas, who would hurry them off trembling to the farther corner of the room when certain doubtful professional characters made their appearance. There was Miss Grigg, who sang at the " Foundling," and Mr. John- son, who sang at the " Eagle Tavern," and Madame Fio- ravanti (a very doubtful character), who sang nowhere, but was always coming out at the Italian Opera. There was Lumley Limpiter (Lord Tweedledale's son), one of the most accomplished tenors in town, and who, we have heard, sings with the professionals at a hundred concerts ; and with him, too, was Captain Guzzard of the Guards, with his tremendous bass voice, which all the world declared to be as fine as Porto's, and who shared the applause of Baroski's school with Mr. Bulger, the dentist of Sackville Street, who neglected his ivory and gold plates for his voice, as every unfortunate individual will do who is bitten by the music mania. Then among the ladies there were a half- score of dubious pale governesses and professionals with turned frocks and lank damp bandeaux of hair under shabby little bonnets ; luckless creatures these, who were parting THE RAVEN SWING. 191 with their poor little store of half-guineas to be enabled to say they were pupils of Signer Baroski, and so get pupils of their own among the British youths, or employment in the choruses of the theatres. The prima donna of the little company was Amelia Larkins, Baroski's own articled pupil, on whose future reputation the eminent master staked his own, whose profits he was to share, and whom he had farmed, to this end, from her father, a most respectable sheriff's officer's assistant, and now, by his daughter's exertions, a consider- able capitalist. Amelia is blond and blue-eyed, her com- plexion is as bright as snow, her ringlets of the color of straw, her figure but why describe her figure? Has not all the world seen her at the Theatres Koyal and in America under the name of Miss Ligonier? Until Mrs. Walker arrived, Miss Larkins was the undis- puted princess of the Baroski company the Semiramide, the Kosina, the Tamina, the Donna Anna. Baroski vaunted her everywhere as the great rising genius of the day, bade Catalina look to her laurels, and questioned whether Miss Stephens could sing a ballad like his pupil. Mrs. Howard Walker arrived, and created, on the first occasion, no small sensation. She improved, and the little society became speedily divided into Walkerites and Larkinsians ; and between these two ladies (as, indeed, between Guzzard and Bulger before mentioned, between Miss Brunck and Miss Horsman, the two contraltos, and between the chorus- singers, after their kind) a great rivalry arose. Larkins was certainly the better singer; but could her straw-colored curls and dumpy high-shouldered figure bear any compari- son with the jetty ringlets and stately form of Morgiana ? Did not Mrs. Walker, too, come to the music-lesson in her carriage, and with a black velvet gown and Cashmere shawl, while poor Larkins meekly stepped from Bell Yard, Temple Bar, in an old print gown and clogs, which she left in the hall? "Larkins sing!" said Mrs. Crump, sarcastically; " I'm sure she ought ; her mouth's big enough to sing a duet." Poor Larkins had no one to make epigrams in her behoof ; her mother was at home tending the younger ones, her father abroad following the duties of his profession ; she had but one protector, as she thought, and that one was Baroski. Mrs. Crump did not fail to tell Lumley Limpiter of her own former triumphs, and to sing him " Tink-a-tink," which we have previously heard, and to state how in former 192 MEN'S WIVES. days she had been called the Ravenswing. And Lumley, on this hint, made a poem in which he compared Morgiana's hair to the plumage of the Raven's wing, and Larkinissa's to that of the canary; by which two names the ladies began soon to be known in the school. Ere long, the flight of the Ravenswing became evidently stronger, whereas that of the canary was seen evidently to droop. When Morgiana sang, all the room would cry " bravo " ; when Amelia performed, scarce a hand was raised for applause of her, except Morgiana's own, and that the Larkinses thought was lifted in odious triumph, rather than in sympathy, for Miss L. was of an envious turn, and little understood the generosity of her rival. At last, one day, the crowning victory of the Ravenswing came. In the trio of Baroski's own opera of " Eliogabalo," "Rosy lips and rosy wine," Miss Larkins, who was evi- dently unwell, was taking the part of the English captive, which she had sung in public concerts before royal dukes, and with considerable applause, and, from some reason per- formed it so ill, that Baroski, slapping down the music on the piano in a fury, cried, " Mrs. Howard Walker, as Miss Larkins cannot sing to-day, will you favor us by taking the part of Boadicetta ? " Mrs. Walker got up smilingly to obey the triumph was too great to be withstood ; and, as she advanced to the piano, Miss Larkins looked wildly at her, and stood silent for a while, and, at last, shrieked out, " Benjamin ! " in a tone of extreme agony, and dropped fainting down on the ground. Benjamin looked extremely red, it must be confessed, at being thus called by what we shall denominate his Christian name, and Limpiter looked round at G-uzzard, and Miss Brunck nudged Miss Horsman, and the lesson concluded rather abruptly that day; for Miss Larkins was carried off to the next room, laid on a couch, and sprinkled with water. Good-natured Morgiana insisted that her mother should take Miss Larkins to Bell Yard in her carriage, and went herself home on foot ; but I don't know that this piece of kindness prevented Larkins from hating her. I should doubt if it did. Hearing so much of his wife's skill as a singer, the astute Captain Walker determined to take advantage of it for the purpose of increasing his "connection." He had Lumley Limpiter at his house before long, which was, indeed, no great matter, for honest Lum would go anywhere for a good THE RAVENSWING. 193 dinner, and an opportunity to show off his voice afterwards, and Luniley was begged to bring any more clerks in the Treasury of his acquaintance ; Captain Guzzard was in- vited, and any officers of the Guards whom he might choose to bring ; Bulger received occasional cards : in a word, and after a short time, Mrs. Howard Walker's musical parties began to be considerably suivies. Her husband had the satisfaction to see his rooms filled by many great person- ages; and once or twice in return (indeed, whenever she was wanted, or when people could not afford to hire the first singers) she was asked to parties elsewhere, and treated with that killing civility which our English aristocracy knows how to bestow on artists. Clever and wise aristoc- racy ! It is sweet to mark your ways, and study your commerce with inferior men. I was just going to commence a tirade regarding the aristocracy here, and to rage against the cool assumption of superiority which distinguishes their lordships' commerce with artists of all sorts : that politeness which, if it conde- scend to receive artists at all, takes care to have them all together, so that there can be no mistake about their rank that august patronage of art which rewards it with a silly flourish of knighthood, to be sure, but takes care to exclude it from any contact with its betters in society, I was, I say, just going to commence a tirade against the aristocracy for excluding artists from their company, and to be ex- tremely satirical upon them, for instance, for not receiving my friend Morgiana, when it suddenly came into my head to ask, was Mrs. Walker fit to move in the best society ? to which query it must humbly be replied that she was not. Her education was not such as to make her quite the equal of Baker Street. She was a kind, honest, and clever creature ; but, it must be confessed, not refined. Wherever she went she had, if not the finest, at any rate the most showy gown in the room; her ornaments were the biggest: her hats, toques, berets, marabouts, and other fallals, always the most conspicuous. She drops "h's" here and there. I have seen her eat pease with a knife (and Walker, scowl- ing on the opposite side of the table, striving in vain to catch her eye) ; and I shall never forget Lady Smigmag's horror when she asked for porter at dinner at Richmond, and began to drink it out of the pewter pot. It was a fine sight. She lifted up the tankard with one of the finest axms, covered with the biggest bracelets ever seen; and 13 194 MEN'S WIVES. had a bird of paradise on her head, that curled round the pewter disk of the pot as she raised it, like a halo. These peculiarities she had, and has still. She is best away from the genteel world, that is the fact. When she says that " The weather is so 'ot that it is quite debiliating ; " when she laughs ; when she hits her neighbor at dinner on the side of the waistcoat (as she will if he should say anything that amuses her), she does what is perfectly natural and unaffected on her part, but what is not customarily done among polite persons, who can sneer at her odd manners and her vanity, but don't know the kindness, honesty, and simplicity which distinguish her. This point being ad- mitted, it follows, of course, that the tirade against the aristocracy would, in the present instance, be out of place so it shall be reserved for some other occasion. The Kavenswing was a person admirably disposed by nature to be happy. She had a disposition so kindly that any small attention would satisfy it; was pleased when alone ; was delighted in a crowd ; was charmed with a joke, however old ; was always ready to laugh, to dance, to sing, or to be merry; was so tender-hearted that the smallest ballad would make her cry, and hence was supposed, by many persons, to be extremely affected, and by almost all, to be a downright coquette. Several competitors for her favor presented themselves besides Baroski. Young dan- dies used to canter round her phaeton in the Park, and might be seen haunting her doors in the mornings. The fashionable artist of the day made a drawing of her, which was engraved and sold in the shops ; a copy of it was printed in a song, "Black-eyed Maiden of Araby," the words by Desmond Mulligan, Esq., the music composed and dedicated to Mrs. HOWARD WALKER, by her most faithful and obliged servant, Benjamin Baroski ; and at night her Opera-box was full. Her Opera-box ? Yes, the heiress of the " Bootjack " actually had an Opera-box, and some of the most fashionable manhood of London attended it. Xow, in fact, was the time of her greatest prosperity; and her husband, gathering these fashionable characters about him, extended his " agency " considerably, and began to thank his stars that he had married a woman who was as good as a fortune to him. In extending his agency, however, Mr. Walker increased Ms expenses proportionably, and multiplied his debts accordingly. More furniture and more plate, more wines THE RAVENSWING. 195 and more dinner-parties, became necessary ; the little pony- phaeton was exchanged for a brougham of evenings ; and we may fancy our old friend Mr. Eglantine's rage and dis- gust, as he looked up from the pit of the Opera, to see Mrs. Walker surrounded by what he called "the swell young nobs " about London, bowing to niy lord, and laughing with his grace, and led to her carriage by Sir John. The Ravenswing's position at this period was rather an exceptional one. She was an honest woman, visited by that peculiar class of our aristocracy who chiefly associate with ladies who are not honest. She laughed with all, but she encouraged noue. Old Crump was constantly at her side now when she appeared in public, the most watchful of mammas, always awake at the Opera, though she seemed to be always asleep ; but no dandy debauchee could deceive her vigilance, and for this reason Walker, who disliked her (as every man naturally will, must, and should dislike his mother-in-law), was contented to suffer her in his house to act as a chaperon to Morgiana. None of the young dandies ever got admission of morn- ings to the little mansion in the Edgeware Road ; the blinds were always down ; and though you might hear Morgiana's voice half across the Park as she was practising, yet the youthful hall-porter in the sugar-loaf buttons was instructed to deny her, and always declared that his mistress was gone out, with the most admirable assurance. After some two years of her life of splendor, there were, to be sure, a good number of morning visitors, who came with single knocks, and asked for Captain Walker; but these were no more admitted than the dandies aforesaid, and were referred, generally, to the Captain's office, whither they went or not at their own convenience. The only man who obtained admission into the house was Baroski, whose cab transported him thrice a week to the neighborhood of Connaught Square, and who obtained ready entrance in his professional capacity. But even then, and much to the wicked little music-mas- ter's disappointment, the dragon Crump was always at the piano with her endless worsted work, or else reading her unfailing Sunday Times; and Baroski could only employ "de langvitch of de ice," as he called it, with his fair pupil, who used to mimic his manner of rolling his eyes about afterwards, and performed "Baroski in love," for the amusement of her husband and her mamma. The former 196 MEN'S WIVES. had his reasons for overlooking the attentions of the little music-master ; and as for the latter had she not been on the stage, and had not many hundreds of persons, in jest or earnest, made love to her ? What else can a pretty woman expect, who is much before the public ? And so the worthy mother counselled her daughter to bear these attentions with good humor, rather than to make them a subject of perpet- ual alarm and quarrel. Baroski, then, was allowed to go on being in love, and was never in the least disturbed in his passion ; and if he was not successful, at least the little wretch could have the pleasure of hinting that he was, and looking particularly roguish when the Ravenswiug was named, and assuring his friends at the club, that "upon his vort dere was no trut in dot rebort" At last one day it happened that Mrs. Crump did not arrive in time for her daughter's lesson (perhaps it rained and the omnibus was full a smaller circumstance than that has changed a whole life ere now) Mrs. Crump did not arrive, and Baroski did, and Morgiana, seeing no great harm, sat down to her lesson as usual, and in the midst of it down went the music-master on his knees, and made a declaration in the most eloquent terms he could muster. "Don't be a fool, Baroski !" said the lady (I can't help it if her language was not more choice, and if she did not rise with cool dignity, exclaiming, "Unhand me, sir!") "don't be a fool ! " said Mrs. Walker, " but get up and let's finish the lesson." " You hard-hearted adorable little greature, vil you not listen to me ? " " Xo, I vill not listen to you, Benjamin ! " concluded the lady ; " get up and take a chair, and don't go on in that ridiklous way, don't ! " But Baroski, having a speech by heart, determined to deliver himself of it in that posture, and begged Morgiana not to turn avay her divine hice, and to listen to de voice of his despair, and so forth ; he seized the lady's hand, and was going to press it to his lips, when she said, with more spirit, perhaps, than grace, "Leave go my hand, sir; I'll box your ears if you don't ! " But Baroski wouldn't release her hand, and was proceed- ing to imprint a kiss upon it, and Mrs. Crump, who had taken the omnibus at a quarter past twelve, instead of that THE RAVENSWING. 197 at twelve, had just opened the drawing-room door, and was walking in, when Morgiana, turning as red as a peony, and unable to disengage her left hand which the musician held, raised up her right hand, and, with all her might and main, gave her lover such a tremendous slap in the face as caused him abruptly to release the hand which he held, and would have laid him prostrate on the carpet but for Mrs. Crump, who rushed forward and prevented him from falling by administering right and left a whole shower of slaps, such as he had never endured since the day he was at school. " What imperence ! " said that worthy lady ; " you'll lay hands on my daughter, will you ? (one, two). You'll insult a woman in distress, you little coward ? (one, two). Take that, and mind your manners, you filthy monster ! " Baroski bounced up in a fury. "By Chofe, you shall hear of dis ! " shouted he ; " you shall pay me dis ! " "As many more as you please, little Benjamin," cried the widow. " Augustus " (to the page), " was that the Captain's knock ? " At this Baroski made for his hat. "Augustus, show this imperence to the door, and if he tries to come in again call a policeman : do you hear ? " The music-master vanished very rapidly, and the two ladies, instead of being frightened or falling into hysterics as their betters would have done, laughed at the odious monster's discomfiture, as they called him. " Such a man as that to set himself up against my Howard ! " said Mor- giana, with becoming pride ; but it was agreed between them that Howard should know nothing of what had occurred, for fear of quarrels, or lest he should be annoyed. So when he came home not a word was said ; and only that his wife met him with more warmth than usual, you could not have guessed that anything extraordinary had occurred. It is not my fault that my heroine's sensibilities were not more keen, that she had not the least occasion for sal-volatile or symptom of a fainting fit ; but so it was, and Mr. Howard Walker knew nothing of the quarrel between his wife and her instructor, until . . . Until he was arrested next day at the suit of Benjamin Baroski for two hundred and twenty guineas, and, in default of payment, was conducted by Mr. Tobias Larkins to his principal's lock-up house in Chancery Lane. CHAPTER V. IN WHICH MB. WALKER FALLS IXTO DIFFICULTIES, AND MRS. WALKER MAKES MANY FOOLISH ATTEMPTS TO RES- CUE HIM. HOPE the beloved reader is not silly enough to imagine that Mr. Walker, on finding himself insponged for debt in Chancery Lane, was so foolish as to think of apply- ing to any of his friends (those great personages who have appeared every now and then in the course of this little history, and have served to give it a fashion- able air). No, no ; he knew the world too well : and that, though Billingsgate would give him as many dozen of claret as he could carry away under his belt, as the phrase is (I can't help it, Madam, if the phrase is not more genteel), and though Vauxhall would lend him his carriage, slap him on the back, and dine at his house; their lordships would have seen Mr. Walker de- pending from a beam in front of the Old Bailey rather than have helped him to a hundred pounds. And why, forsooth, should we expect otherwise in the world ? I observe that men who complain of its selfishness are quite as selfish as the world is, and no more liberal of money than their neighbors; and I am quite sure with regard to Captain Walker that he would have treated a friend in want exactly as he when in want was treated. There was only his lady who was in the least afflicted by his captivity ; and as for the club, that went on, we are bound to say, exactly as it did on the day previous to his disappearance. By the way, about clubs, could we not, but for fear of 198 THE RAVENSWING. 199 detaining the fair reader too long, enter into a wholesome dissertation here, on the manner of friendship established in those institutions, and the noble feeling of selfishness which they are likely to encourage in the male race ? 1 put out of the question the stale topics of complaint, such as leaving home, encouraging gormandizing and luxurious habits, &c. ; but look also at the dealings of club-men with one another. Look at the rush for the evening paper! See how Shiverton orders a fire in the dog-days, and Swet- tenham opens the windows in February. See how Cramley takes the whole breast of the turkey on his plate, and how many times Jenkins sends away his beggarly half-pint of sherry ! Clubbery is organized egotism. Club intimacy is carefully and wonderfully removed from friendship. You meet Smith for twenty years, exchange the day's news with him, laugh with him over the last joke, grow as well acquainted as two men may be together and one day, at the end of a list of members of the club, you read in a little paragraph by itself, with all the honors, MEMBER DECEASED. Smith, John, Esq.; or he, on the other hand, has the advantage of reading your own name selected for a similar typographical distinction. There it is, that abominable little exclusive list at the end of every club catalogue you can't avoid it. I belong to eight clubs myself, and know that one year Fitz-Boodle, George Savage, Esq. (unless it should please fate to remove my brother and his six sons, when of course it would be Fitz-Boodle, Sir George Savage, Bart.), will appear in the dismal category. There is that list ; down I must go in it : the day will come, and I shan't be seen in the bow- window, some one else will be sitting in the vacant arm- chair: the rubber will begin as usual, and yet somehow Fitz will not be there. "Where's Fitz?"says Trumping ton, just arrived from the Rhine. " Don't you know ? " says Punter, turning down his thumb to the carpet. " You led the club, I think ? " says Ruff to his partner (the other partner !), and the waiter snuffs the candles. I hope in the course of the above little pause, every single member of a club who reads this has profited by the perusal. 200 MEN'S WIVES. He may belong, I say, to eight clubs, he will die, and not be missed by any of the five thousand members. Peace be to him ; the waiters will forget him, and his name will pass away, and another great-coat will hang on the hook whence his own used to be dependant. And this, I need not say, is the beauty of the club-insti- tutions. If it were otherwise, if, forsooth, we were to be sorry when our friends died, or to draw out our purses when our friends were in want, we should be insolvent, and life would be miserable. Be it ours to button up our pock- ets and our hearts ; and to make merry it is enough to swim down this life-stream for ourselves; if Poverty is clutching hold of our heels, or Friendship would catch an arm, kick them both off. Every man for himself, is the word, and plenty to do too. My friend Captain Walker had practised the above max* ims so long and resolutely as to be quite aware when he came himself to be in distress that not a single soul in the whole universe would help him, and he took his measures accordingly. When carried to Mr. Bendigo's lock-up house, he sum- moned that gentleman in a very haughty way, took a blank banker's check out of his pocket-book, and, filling it up for the exact sum of the writ, orders Mr. Bendigo forthwith to open the door and let him go forth. Mr. Bendigo, smiling with exceeding archness, and put- ting a finger covered all over with diamond rings to his ex- tremely aquiline nose, inquired of Mr. Walker whether he saw anything green about his face ? intimating by this gay and good-humored interrogatory his suspicion of the unsat- isfactory nature of the document handed over to him by Mr. Walker. "Hang it, sir!" says Mr. Walker, "go and get the check cashed, and be quick about it. Send your man in a cab, and here's a half-crown to pay for it." The confident air somewhat staggers the bailiff, who asked him whether he would like any refreshment while his man was absent get- ting the amount of the check, and treated his prisoner with great civility during the time of the messenger's journey. But as Captain Walker had but a balance of two pounds five and twopence (this sum was afterwards divided among his creditors, the law expenses being previously deducted from it), the bankers of course declined to cash the Cap- tain's draft for two hundred and odd pounds, simply writing THE RAVENSWING. 201 the words " no effects " on the paper ; on receiving which reply Walker, far from being cast down, burst out laughing very gayly, produced a real five-pound note, and called upon his host for a bottle of champagne, which the two worthies drank in perfect friendship and good-humor. The bottle was scarcely finished, and the young Israelitish gentleman who acts as waiter in Cursitor Street had only time to re- move the flask and the glasses, when poor Morgiana with a flood of tears rushed into her husband's arms, and flung herself on his neck, and, calling him her " dearest, blessed Howard," would have fainted at his feet ; but that he, breaking out in a fury of oaths, asked her how, after getting him into that scrape through her infernal extravagance, she dared to show her face before him ? This address speedily frightened the poor thing out of her fainting-fit there is nothing so good for female hysterics as a little conjugal sternness, nay brutality, as many husbands can aver who are in the habit of employing the remedy. " My extravagance, Howard ? " said she, in a faint way ; and quite put off her purpose of swooning by the sudden attack made upon her. " Surely, my love, you have noth- ing to complain of " " To complain of, ma'am ? " roared the excellent "Walker. "Is two hundred guineas to a music-master nothing to com- plain of ? Did you bring me such a fortune as to authorize your taking guinea lessons ? Haven't I raised you out of your sphere of life and introduced you to the best of the land ? Haven't I dressed you like a duchess ? Haven't I been for you such a husband as very few women in the world ever had, madam ? answer me that." " Indeed, Howard, you were always very kind," sobbed the lady. "Haven't I toiled and slaved for you, been out all day working for you? Haven't I allowed your vulgar old mother to come to your house to my house, I say ? Have- n't I done all this ? " She could not deny it, and Walker, who was in a rage (and when a man is in a rage, for what on earth is a wife made for but that he should vent his rage on her ?), con- tinued for some time in this strain, and so abused, fright- ened, and overcame poor Morgiana, that she left her hus- band fully convinced that she was the most guilty of beings, and bemoaning his double bad fortune, that her Howard was ruined and she the cause of his misfortunes. 202 MEN'S WIVES. When she was gone, Mr. Walker resumed his equanimity (for he was not one of those men whom a few months of the King's Bench were likely to terrify), and drank several glasses of punch in company with his host ; with whom in perfect calmness he talked over his affairs. That he in- tended to pay his debt and quit the sponging-house next day is a matter of course; no one ever was yet put in a sponging-house that did not pledge his veracity he intended to quit it to-morrow. Mr. Bendigo said he should be heartily glad to open the door to him, and in the meantime sent out diligently to see among his friends if there were any more detainers against the Captain, and to inform the Captain's creditors to come forward against him. Morgiana went home in profound grief, it may be imag- ined, and could hardly refrain from bursting into tears when the sugar-loaf page asked whether master was coming home early, or whether he had taken his key ; she lay awake tossing and wretched the whole night, and very early in the morning rose up, and dressed, and went out. Before nine o'clock she was in Cursitor Street, and once more joyfully bounced into her husband's arms ; who woke up yawning and swearing somewhat, with a severe head- ache, occasioned by the jollification of the previous night: for, strange though it may seem, there are perhaps no places in Europe where jollity is more practised than in prisons for debt ; and I declare for my own part (I mean, of course, that I went to visit a friend) I have dined at Mr. Amina- dab's as sumptuously as at Long's. But it is necessary to account for Morgiana's joyfulness ; which was strange in her husband's perplexity, and after her sorrow of the previous night. Well, then, when Mrs. Walker went out in the morning, she did so with a very large basket under her arm. u Shall I carry the basket, ma'am ? " said the page, seizing it with much alacrity. " No, thank you," cried his mistress, with equal eager- ness : " it's only " " Of course, ma'am," replied the boy, sneering, " I knew it was that." " Glass," continued Mrs. Walker, turning extremely red. " Have the goodness to call a coach, sir, and not to speak till you are questioned." The young gentleman disappeared upon his errand : the coach was called and came. Mrs. Walker slipped into it with her basket, and the page went down stairs to his com- THE RAVENSWING. 203 panions in the kitchen, and said, " It's a comin' ! master's in quod, and missus has gone out to pawn the plate." When the cook went out that day, she somehow had by mistake placed in her basket a dozen of table-knives and a plated egg-stand. When the lady's-maid took a walk in the course of the afternoon, she found she had occasion for eight cambric pocket-handkerchiefs (marked with her mistress's cipher), half a dozen pair of shoes, gloves, long and short, some silk stockings, and a gold-headed scent-bottle. " Both the new cashmeres is gone," said she, " and there's nothing left in Mrs. Walker's trinket-box but a paper of pins and an old coral bracelet." As for the page, he rushed incon- tinently to his master's dressing-room and examined every one of the pockets of his clothes ; made a parcel of some of them, and opened all the drawers which Walker had not locked before his departure. He only found three half- pence and a bill-stamp, and about forty -five tradesmen's ac- counts, neatly labelled and tied up with red tape. These three worthies, a groom, who was a great admirer of Trim- mer, the lady's-maid, and a policeman, a friend of the cook's, sat down to a comfortable dinner at the usual hour, and it was agreed among them all that Walker's ruin was certain. The cook made the policeman a present of a china punch-bowl which Mrs. Walker had given her; and the lady's-maid gave her friend the " Book of Beauty " for last year, and the third volume of Byron's poems from the drawing-room table. " I'm dash'd if she ain't taken the little French clock, too," said the page, and so indeed Mrs. Walker had ; it slipped in the basket where it lay enveloped in one of her shawls, and then struck madly and unnaturally a great number of times, as Morgiana was lifting her store of trea- sures out of the hackney-coach. The coachman wagged his head sadly as he saw her walking as quick as she could under her heavy load, and disappearing round the corner of the street at which Mr. Balls's celebrated jewelry estab- lishment is situated. It is a grand shop, with magnificent silver cups and salvers, rare gold-headed canes, flutes, watches, diamond brooches, and a few fine specimens of the old masters in the window, and under the words BALLS, JEWELLER, you read, Money Lent. in the very smallest type on the door. 204 MEN'S WIVES. The interview with Mr. Balls need not be described ; but it must have been a satisfactory one, for at the end of half an hour Morgiana returned and bounded into the coach with sparkling eyes, and told the driver to gallop to Cursitor Street ; which, smiling, he promised to do, and accordingly set off in that direction at the rate of four miles an hour. " I thought so," said the philosophic charioteer. " When a man's in quod, a woman don't mind her silver spoons ; " and he was so delighted with her action, that he forgot to grumble when she came to settle accounts with him, even though she gave him only double his fare. " Take me to him," said she to the young Hebrew who opened the door. " To whom ? " says the sarcastic youth ; " there's twenty hims here. You're precious early." "To Captain Walker, young man," replied Morgiana haughtily ; whereupon the youth, opening the second door, and seeing Mr. Bendigo in a flowered dressing-gown de- scending the stairs, exclaimed, " Papa, here's a lady for the Captain." "I'm come to free him," said she, trembling and holding out a bundle of bank-notes. " Here's the amount of your claim, sir two hundred and twenty guineas, as you told me last night." The Jew took the notes, and grinned as he looked at her, and grinned double as he looked at his son, and begged Mrs. Walker to step into his study and take a receipt. When the door of that apartment closed upon the lady and his father, Mr. Bendigo the younger fell back in an agony of laughter, which it is impossible to describe in words, and presently ran out into a court where some of the luckless inmates of the house were already taking the air, and communicated something to them which made those individuals also laugh as uproariously as he had previously done. Well, after joyfully taking the receipt from Mr. Bendigo (how her cheeks flushed and her heart fluttered as she dried it on the blotting-book!), and after turning very pale again on hearing that the Captain had had a very bad night; " And well he might, poor dear ! " said she (at which Mr. Bendigo, having no person to grin at, grinned at a marble bust of Mr. Pitt, which ornamented his sideboard) Mor- giana, I say, these preliminaries being concluded, was conducted to her husband's apartment, and once more fling- ing her arms round her dearest Howard's neck, told him, with one of the sweetest smiles in the world, to make THE RAVENSWING. 206 haste and get up and come home, for breakfast was wait- ing, and the carriage at the door. " What do you mean, love ? " said the Captain, starting up and looking exceedingly surprised. " I mean that my dearest is free ; that the odious little creature is paid at least the horrid bailiff is." " Have you been to Baroski ? " said "Walker, turning very red. " Howard ! " said the wife, quite indignant. " Did did your mother give you the money ? " asked the Captain. "Xo; I had it by me," replies Mrs. Walker, with a very knowing look. Walker was more surprised than ever. " Have you any more money by you ? " said he. Mrs. Walker showed him her purse with two guineas; " That is all, love," she said. " And I wish," continued she, " you would give me a draft to pay a whole list of little bills that have somehow all come in within the last few days." " Well, well, you shall have the check," continued Mr. Walker, and began forthwith to make his toilet, which com- pleted, he rung for Mr. Bendigo, and his bill, and intimated his wish to go home directly. The honored bailiff brought the bill, but with regard to his being free, said it was impossible. " How impossible ? " said Mrs. Walker, turning very red and then very pale. " Did I not pay just now ? " "So you did, and you've got the reshipt; but there's another detainer against the Captain for a hundred and fifty. Eglantine and Mossrose, of Bond Street ; perfum- ery for five years, you know." " You don't mean to say you were such a fool as to pay without asking if there were any more detainers ? " roared Walker to his wife. " Yes, she was though," chuckled Mr. Bendigo ; "but she'll know better the next time : and besides, Captain, what's a hundred and fifty pounds to you ? " Though Walker desired nothing so much in the world at that moment as the liberty to knock down his wife, his sense of prudence overcame his desire for justice : if that feeling may be called prudence on his part, which con- sisted in a strong wish to cheat the bailiff into the idea that he (Walker) was an exceedingly respectable and 206 MEN'S WIVES. wealthy man. Many worthy persons indulge in this fond notion, that they are imposing upon the world; strive to fancy, for instance, that their bankers consider them men of property because they keep a tolerable balance, pay little tradesmen's bills with ostentatious punctuality, and so forth, but the world, let us be pretty sure, is as wise as need be, and guesses our real condition with a marvellous instinct, or learns it with curious skill. The London tradesman is one of the keenest judges of human nature extant ; and if a tradesman, how much more a bailiff ? In reply to the ironic question, "What's a hundred and fifty pounds to you ? " Walker, collecting himself, an- swers, " It is an infamous imposition, and I owe the money no more than you do ; but nevertheless I shall instruct my lawyers to pay it in the course of the morning : under pro- test of course." " Oh, of course," said Mr. Bendigo, bowing and quitting the room, and leaving Mrs. Walker to the pleasure of a tete- a-tete with her husband. And now being alone with the partner of his bosom, the worthy gentleman began an address to her which cannot be put down on paper here ; becaitse the world is exceedingly squeamish, and does not care to hear the whole truth about rascals, and because the fact is that almost every other word of the Captain's speech was a curse, such as would shock the beloved reader were it put in print. Fancy, then, in lieu of the conversation, a scoundrel dis- appointed and in a fury, wreaking his brutal revenge upon an amiable woman, who sits trembling and pale, and won- dering at the sudden exhibition of wrath. Fancy how he clenches his fists and stands over her, and stamps and screams out curses with a livid face, growing wilder and wilder in his rage ; wrenching her hand when she wants to turn away, and only stopping at last when she has fallen off the chair in a fainting-fit, with a heart-breaking sob that made the Jew-boy who was listening at the key- hole turn quite pale and walk away. Well, it is best, per- haps, that such a conversation should not be told at length : at the end of it, when Mr. Walker had his wife lifeless on the floor, he seizes a water-jug and poured it over her ; which operation pretty soon brought her to herself, and, shaking her black ringlets, she looked up once more again timidly into his face, and took his hand and began to cry. He spoke now .in a somewhat softer voice, and let her THE RAVENSWING. 207 keep paddling on with his hand as before ; he couldn't speak very fiercely to the poor girl in her attitude of de- feat, and tenderness, and supplication. " Morgiana," said he, "your extravagance and carelessness have brought me to ruin, I'm afraid. If you'd chosen to have gone to Baroski, a word from you would have made him withdraw the writ, and my property wouldn't have been sacrificed, as it has now been, for nothing. It mayn't be yet too late, however, to retrieve ourselves. This bill of Eglantine's is a regular conspiracy, I am sure, between Mossrose and Bendigo here : you must go to Eglantine he's an old an old flame of yours, you know." She dropped his hand; "I can't go to Eglantine after what has passed between us," she said ; but Walker's face 208 MEN'S WIVES. instantly began to wear a certain look, and she said with a shudder, "Well, well, dear, I will go." "You will goto Eglantine, and ask him to take a bill for the amount of this shameful demand at any date, never mind what. Mind, however, to see him alone, and I'm sure if you choose you can settle the business. Make haste ; set off directly, and come back, as there may be more detainers in." Trembling, and in a great flutter, Morgiana put on her bonnet and gloves and went towards the door. "It's a fine morning," said Mr. "Walker, looking out : " a walk will do you good; and Morgiana didn't you say you had a couple of guineas in your pocket ? " " Here it is," said she, smiling all at once, and holding up her face to be kissed. She paid the two guineas for the kiss. Was it not a mean act ? " Is it possible that people can love where they do not respect ? " says Miss Prim : " J never would." Nobody asked you, Miss Prim : but recollect Morgiana was not born with your advantages of education and breeding; and was, in fact, a poor vulgar creature, who loved Mr. Walker, not because her mamma told her, nor because he was an exceedingly eligible and well-brought-up young man, but because she could not help it, and knew no better. Nor is Mrs. Walker set up as a model of virtue ; ah. no ! when I want a model of virtue I will call in Baker Street, and ask for a sitting of my dear (if I may be permitted to say so) Miss Prim. We have Mr. Howard Walker safely housed in Mr. Ben- digo's establishment in Cursitor Street, Chancery Lane; and it looks like mockery and want of feeling towards the excellent hero of this story (or, as should rather be said, towards the husband of the heroine), to say what he might have been but for the unlucky little circumstance of Baroski's passion for Morgiana. If Baroski had not fallen in love with Morgiana, he would not have given her two hundred guineas' worth of lessons ; he would not have so far presumed as to seize her hand, and attempt to kiss it ; if he had not attempted to kiss her, she would not have boxed his ears ; he would not have taken out the writ against Walker; Walker would have been free, very possibly rich, and therefore certainly respected : he always said that a month's more liberty would have set him beyond the reach of misfortune. The assertion is very likely a correct one ; for Walker THE RAVENSWING. 209 had a flashy, enterprising genius, which ends in wealth sometimes, in the King's Bench not seldom, occasionally, alas, in Van Diemen's Land! He might have been rich, could he have kept his credit, and had not his personal expenses and extravagances pulled him down. He had gallantly availed himself of his wife's fortune ; nor could any man in London, as he proudly said, have made five hundred pounds go so far. He had, as we have seen, furnished a house, sideboard, and cellar with it ; he had a carriage, and horses in his stable, and with the remainder he had purchased shares in four companies of three of which he was founder and director, had conducted innumer- able bargains in the foreign stocks, had lived and enter- tained sumptuously, and made himself a very considerable income. He had set up THE CAPITOL Loan and Life Assur- ance Company, had discovered the Chimborazo gold mines, and the Society for Recovering and Draining the Pontine Marshes ; capital ten millions ; patron His HOLINESS THE POPE. It certainly was stated in an evening paper that His Holiness had made him a Knight of the Spur, and had offered to him the rank of Count ; and he was raising a loan for His Highness the Cacique of Panama, who has sent him (by way of dividend) the grand cordon of His Highness's order of the Castle and Falcon, which might be seen any day at his office in Bond Street, with the parch- ments signed and sealed by the Grand Master and Falcon King-at-Arms of his Highness. In a week more, Walker would have raised a hundred thousand pounds on his Highness's twenty per cent loan ; he would have had fif- teen thousand pounds commission for himself; his com- panies would have risen to par, he would have realized his shares ; he would have gone into Parliament ; he would have been made a baronet, who knows ? a peer, probably ! " And I appeal to you, sir," Walker would say to his friends, " could any man have shown better proof of his affection for his wife, than by laying out her little miser- able money as I did ? They call me heartless, sir, because I didn't succeed ; sir, my life has been a series of sacrifices for that woman, such as no man ever performed before." A proof of Walker's dexterity and capability for business may be seen in the fact that he had actually appeased and reconciled one of his bitterest enemies our honest friend Eglantine. After Walker's marriage, Eglantine, who had now no mercantile dealings with his former agent, became 14 210 MEN'S WIVES. so enraged with him, that, as the only means of revenge in his power, he sent him in his bill for goods supplied to the amount of one hundred and fifty guineas, and sued him for the amount. But Walker stepped boldly over to his enemy, and in the course of half an hour they were friends. Eglantine promised to forego his claim ; and accepted in lieu of it three 1001. shares of the ex-Panama stock, bear- ing 25 per cent, payable half-yearly at the house of Hocus Brothers, St. Swithin's Lane ; three 100. shares, and the second class of the order of the Castle and Falcon, with the ribbon and badge. " In four years, Eglantine, my boy, I hope to get you the Grand Cordon of the order," said Walker : " I hope to see you a KNIGHT GRAND CROSS, with a grant of a hundred thousand acres reclaimed from the Isthmus." To do my poor Eglantine justice, he did not care for the hundred thousand acres it was the star that delighted him : ah ! how his fat chest heaved with delight as he sewed on the cross and ribbon to his dress-coat, and lighted up four wax candles and looked at himself in the glass. He was known to wear a great-coat after that it was that he might wear the cross under it. That year he went on a trip to Boulogne. He was dreadfully ill during the voyage, but as the vessel entered the port he was seen to emerge from the cabin, his coat open, the star blazing on his chest ; the soldiers saluted him as he walked the streets, he was called Monsieur le Chevalier, and when he went home he entered into negotiations with Walker to pur- chase a commission in his Highness's service. Walker said he would get him the nominal rank of Captain, the fees at the Panama War Office were five-and-twenty pounds, which sum honest Eglantine produced, and had his com- mission, and a pack of visiting cards printed as Captain Archibald Eglantine, K. C. F. Many a time he looked at them as they lay in his desk, and he kept the cross in his dressing-table, and wore it as he shaved every morning. His Highness the Cacique, it is well known, came to England, and had lodgings in Regent Street, where he held a levee, at which Eglantine appeared in the Panama uni- form, and was most graciously received by his Sovereign. His Highness proposed to make Captain Eglantine his aide-de-camp with the rank of Colonel, but the Captain's exchequer was rather low at that moment, and the fees at THE RAVENSWING. 211 the " "War Office " were peremptory. Meanwhile his High- ness left Regent Street, was said by some to have returned to Panama, by others to be in his native city of Cork, by others to be leading a life of retirement in the New Cut, Lambeth ; at any rate was not visible for some time, so that Captain Eglantine's advancement did not take place. Eglantine was somehow ashamed to mention his military and chivalric rank to Mr. Mossrose, when that gentleman came into partnership with him ; and left these facts secret, until they were detected by a very painful circum- stance. On the very day when Walker was arrested at the suit of Benjamin Baroski, there appeared in the newspapers an account of the imprisonment of his Highness the Prince of Panama, for a bill owing to a licensed victualler in Rat- cliff Highway. The magistrate to whom the victualler subsequently came to complain, passed many pleasantries on the occasion. He asked whether his Highness did not drink like a swan with two necks ; whether he had brought any Belles savages with him from Panama, and so forth ; and the whole court, said the report, " was convulsed with laughter, when Boniface produced a green and yellow rib- bon with a large star of the order of the Castle and Falcon, with which his Highness proposed to gratify him, in lieu of paying his little bill." It was as he was reading the above document with a bleeding heart that Mr. Mossrose came in from his daily walk to the City. " Veil, Eglantine," says he, " have you heard the newsh ? " " About his Highness ? " " About your friend Valker ; he's arrested for two hundred poundsh ! " Eglantine at this could contain no more ; but told his story of how he had been induced to accept 300. of Panama stock for his account against Walker, and cursed his stars for his folly. " Veil, you've only to bring in another bill," said the younger perfumer ; " swear he owes you a hundred and fifty pounds, and we'll have a writ out against him this afternoon." And so a second writ was taken out against Captain Walker. " You'll have his wife here very likely in a day or two," said Mr. Mossrose to his partner ; " them chaps always sends their wives, and I hope you know how to deal with her." 212 MEN'S WIVES. " I don't value her a fig's bend," said Eglantine. " I'll treat her like the dust of the hearth. After that woman's conduct to me, I should like to see her have the haudacity to coine here ; and if she does, you'll see how I'll serve her." The worthy perfumer, was, in fact, resolved to be exceed- ingly hard-hearted in his behavior towards his old love, and acted over at night in bed the scene which was to occur when the meeting should take place. Oh, thought he, but it will be a grand thing to see the proud Morgiana on her knees to me : and me a-pointing to the door ; and saying, " Madam, you've steeled this 'eart against you, you have ; bury the recollection of old times, of those old times when I thought my 'eart would have broke, but it didn't no, 'earts are made of sterner stuff. I didn't die as I thought I should ; I stood it, and live to see the woman I despised at my feet ha, ha, at my feet ! " In the midst of these thoughts Mr. Eglantine fell asleep ; but it was evident that the idea of seeing Morgiana once more, agitated him considerably, else why should he have been at the pains of preparing so much heroism ? His sleep was exceedingly fitful and troubled ; he saw Morgi- ana in a hundred shapes ; he dreamed that he was dressing her hair ; that he was riding with her to Richmond ; that the horse turned into a dragon, and Morgiana into Woolsey, who took him by the throat and choked him, while the dragon played the key-bugle. And in the morning when Mossrose was gone to his business in the City, and he sat reading the Morning Post in his study, ah ! what a thump his heart gave as the lady of his dreams actually stood before him ! Many a lady who purchased brushes at Eglantine's shop, would have given ten guineas for such a color as his when he saw her. His heart beat violently, he was almost chok- ing in his stays : he had been prepared for the visit, but his courage failed him now it had come. They were both silent for some minutes. " You know what I am come for," at last said Morgiana from under her veil, but she put it aside as she spoke. "I that is yes it's a painful affair, mem," he said, giving one look at her pale face, and then turning away in a flurry. " I beg to refer to you Blunt, Hone, and Sharpus, my lawyers, mem," he added, collecting himself. " I didn't expect this from you, Mr. Eglantine," said the lady, and began to sob. THE RAVENSWING. 213 " And after what's 'appened, I didn't expect a visit from you, mem. I thought Mrs. Capting Walker was too great a dame to visit poor Harchibald Eglantine (though some of the first men in the country do visit him). Is there any- thing in which I can oblige you, mem ? " " heavens ! " cried the poor woman ; " have I no friend left ? I never thought that you, too, would have deserted me, Mr. Archibald." The " Archibald," pronounced in the old way, had evi- dently an effect on the perfumer ; he winced and looked at her very eagerly for a moment. " What can I do for you, mem ? " at last said he. " What is this bill against Mr. Walker, for which he is now in prison ? " " Perfumery supplied for five years ; that man used more 'air-brushes than any duke in the land, and as for Eau-de- Cologne, he must have bathed himself in it. He hordered me about like a lord. He never paid me one shilling, he stabbed me in my most vital part, but, ah ! ah ! never mind that: and I said I would be revenged, and I am." The perfumer was quite in a rage again by this time, and wiped his fat face with his pocket-handkerchief, and glared upon Mrs. Walker with a most determined air. " Revenged on whom ? Archibald Mr. Eglantine, re- venged on me on a poor woman whom you made miser- able ! You would not have done so once." " Ha ! and a precious way you treated me once," said Eglantine : " don't talk to me, mem, of once. Bury the recollection of once for hever ! I thought my 'eart would have broke once, but no ; 'earts are made of sterner stuff. I didn't die as I thought I should ; I stood it and I live to see the woman who despised me at my feet." " Oh, Archibald ! " was all the lady could say, and she fell to sobbing again : it was perhaps her best argument with the perfumer. " Oh, Harchibald, indeed ! " continued he, beginning to swell ; " don't call me Harchibald, Morgiana. Think what a position you might have held, if you'd chose : when, when you might have called me Harchibald. Now it's no use," added he, with harrowing pathos ; " but though I've been wronged, I can't bear to see women in tears tell me what I can do ? " " Dear, good Mr. Eglantine, send to your lawyers and stop this horrid prosecution take Mr. Walker's acknowledg- 214 MEN'S WIVES. ment for the debt. If he is free, he is sure to have a very large sum of money in a few days, and will pay you all. Do not ruin him do not ruin me by persisting now. Be the old kind Eglantine you were." Eglantine took a hand, which Morgiana did not refuse ; he thought about old times. He had known her since child- hood almost ; as a girl he dandled her on his knee at the " Kidneys " ; as a woman he had adored her, his heart was melted. " He did pay me in a sort of way," reasoned the perfumer with himself "these bonds, though they are not worth much, I took 'em for better or for worse, and I can't bear to see her crying, and to trample on a woman in distress. Morgiana," he added, in a loud cheerful voice, " cheer up ; I'll give you a release for your husband : I will be the old kind Eglantine I was." " Be the old kind jackass you vash ! " here roared a voice that made Mr. Eglantine start. " Vy, vat an old fat fool you are, Eglantine, to give up our just debts because a vornan comes snivelling and crying to you and such a voman, too ! " exclaimed Mr. Mossrose, for his was the voice. " Such a woman, sir ? " cried the senior partner. " Yes ; such a woman vy, didn't she jilt you herself ? hasn't she been trying the same game with Baroski ; and are you so green as to give up a hundred and fifty pounds because she takes a fancy to come vimpering here ? I won't, I can tell you. The money's as much mine as it is yours, and I'll have it, or keep Walker's body, that's what I will." At the presence of his partner, the timid good genius of Eglantine, which had prompted him to mercy and kindness, at once outspread its frightened wings and flew away. _" You see how it is, Mrs. W.," said he, looking down ; " it's an affair of business in all these here affairs of busi- ness Mr. Mossrose is the managing man; ain't you Mr. Mossrose ? " " A pretty business it would be if I wasn't," replied Moss- rose, doggedly. " Come, ma'am," says he, " I'll tell you vat I do : I take fifty per shent ; not a farthing less give me that, and out your husband goes." " Oh, sir, Howard will pay you in a week." "Well, den let him stop at my uncle Bendigo's for a week, and come out den he's very comfortable there," said Shylock with a grin. " Hadn't you better go to the THE RAVENSWING. 215 shop, Mr. Eglantine," continued he, " and look after your business ? Mrs. Walker can't want you to listen to her all day." Eglantine was glad of the excuse, and slunk out of the studio; not into the shop but into his parlor; where he drank off a great glass of Maraschino, and sat blushing and exceedingly agitated, until Mossrose came to tell him that Mrs. W. was gone, and wouldn't trouble him any more. But although he drank several more glasses of Maraschino, and went to the play that night, and to the cider-cellars afterwards, neither the liquor, nor the play, nor the delight- ful comic songs at the cellars, could drive Mrs. Walker out of his head, and the memory of old times, and the image of her pale weeping face. Morgiana tottered out of the shop, scarcely heeding the voice of Mr. Mossrose, who said, " I'll take forty per shent " (and went back to his duty cursing himself for a soft-hearted fool for giving up so much of his rights to a puling woman). Morgiana, I say, tottered out of the shop, and went up Con- duit Street, weeping, weeping with all her eyes. She was quite faint, for she had taken nothing that morning but the glass of water which the pastry-cook in the Strand had given her, and was forced to take hold of the railings of a house for support, just as a little gentleman with a yellow hand- kerchief under his arm was issuing from the door. " Good heavens, Mrs. Walker ! " said the gentleman. It was no other than Mr. Woolsey, who was going forth to try a body-coat for a customer ; " are you ill ? what's the matter ? for God's sake come in ! " and he took her arm under his, and led her into his back parlor, and seated her, and had some wine and water before her in one minute, be- fore she had said one single word regarding herself. As soon as she was somewhat recovered, and with the interruption of a thousand sobs, the poor thing told as well she could her little story. Mr. Eglantine had arrested Mr. Walker ; she had been trying to gain time for him ; Eglan- tine had refused. " The hard-hearted, cowardly brute to refuse her any- thing ! " said loyal Mr. Woolsey. " My dear," said he, "I've no reason to love your husband, and I know too much about him to respect him; but I love and respect you, and will spend my last shilling to serve you." At which Morgiana could only take his hand and cry a great deal more than ever. She said Mr. Walker would have a 216 AfEN'S WIVES. great deal of money in a week, that he was the best of husbands, and she was sure Mr. Woolsey would think better of him when he knew him; that Mr. Eglantine's bill was one hundred and fifty pounds, but that Mr. Moss- rose would take forty per cent, if Mr. Woolsey could say how much that was. " I'll pay a thousand pound to do you good," said Mr. Woolsey, bouncing up ; " stay here for ten minutes, my dear, until my return, and all shall be right, as you will see." He was back in ten minutes, and had called a cab from the stand opposite (all the coachmen there had seen and commented on Mrs. Walker's woebegone looks), and they were off for Cursitor Street in a moment. " They'll settle the whole debt for twenty pounds," said he, and showed an order to that effect from Mr. Mossrose to Mr. Bendigo, em- powering the latter to release Walker on receiving Mr. Woolsey's acknowledgment for the above sum. " There's no use paying it," said Mr. Walker, doggedly, " it would only be robbing you, Mr. Woolsey, seven more detainers have come in while my wife has been away. I must go through the court now ; but," he added in a whisper to the tailor, " my good sir, my debts of honor are sacred, and if you will have the goodness to lend me the twenty pounds, I pledge you my word as a gentleman to return it when I come out of quod." It is probable that Mr. Woolsey declined this, for as soon as he was gone, Walker, in a tremendous fury, began cursing his wife for dawdling three hours on the road. "Why the deuce, ma'am, didn't you take a cab?" roared he, when he heard she had walked to Bond Street. " Those writs have only been in half an hour, and I might have been off but for you." "Oh, Howard," said she, "didn't you take didn't I give you my my last shilling ? " and fell back and wept again more bitterly than ever. " Well, love," said her amiable husband, turning rather red, "never mind, it wasn't your fault. It is but going through the court. It's no great odds. I forgive you." CHAPTER VI. IN WHICH MB. WALKER STILL REMAINS IN DIFFICULTIES, BUT SHOWS GREAT RESIGNATION UNDER HIS MISFORTUNES. HE exemplary Walker, see- ing that escape from his enemies was hopeless, and that it was his duty as a man to turn on them and face them, now determined to quit the splendid though narrow lodgings which Mr. Bendigo had provided for him, and undergo the mar- tyrdom of the Fleet. Ac- cordingly, in company with that gentleman, he came over to her Majesty's pris- on, and gave himself into the custody of the officers there ; and did not apply for the accommodation of the rules (by which in those days the captivity of some debtors was considerably lightened), because he knew perfectly well that there was no person in the wide world who would give a security for the heavy sums for which Walker was answerable. What these sums were is no matter, and on this head we do not think it at all necessary to satisfy the curiosity of the reader. He may have owed hundreds thousands, his creditors only can tell; he paid the dividend which has been formerly men- tioned, and showed thereby his desire to satisfy all claims upon him to the uttermost farthing. As for the little house in Connaught Square, when, after quitting her husband, Morgiana drove back thither, the door was opened by the page, who instantly thanked her to pay his wages ; and in the drawing-room, on a yellow satin sofa, sat a seedy man (with a pot of porter beside him placed on an album for fear of staining the rosewood 217 218 MEN'S WIVES. table), and the seedy man signified that he had taken possession of the furniture in execution for a judgment debt. Another seedy man was in the dining-room, reading a newspaper and drinking gin; he informed Mrs. "Walker that he was the representative of another judgment debt and of another execution : " There's another on 'em in the kitchen," said the page, " taking an inwentory of the furni- ture ; and he swears he'll have you took up for swindling, for pawning the plate." " Sir," said Mr. Woolsey, for that worthy man had con- ducted Morgiana home " sir," said he, shaking his stick at the young page, " if you give any more of your impu- dence I'll beat every button off your jacket " : and as there were some four hundred of these ornaments, the page was silent. It was a great mercy for Morgiana that the honest and faithful tailor had accompanied her. The good fellow had waited very patiently for her for an hour in the parlor or coffee-room of the lock-up house, knowing full well that she would want a protector on her way homewards ; and his kindness will be more appreciated when it is stated, that during the time of his delay in the coffee-room, he had been subject to the entreaties, nay, to the insults, of Cornet Fipkin of the Blues, who was in prison at the suit of Linsey, Woolsey & Co., and who happened to be taking his break- fast in the apartment when his obdurate creditor entered it. The cornet (a hero of eighteen, who stood at least five feet three in his boots, and owed fifteen thousand pounds) was so enraged at the obduracy of his creditor that he said he would have thrown him out of the window but for the bars which guarded it ; and entertained serious thoughts of knocking the tailor's head off, but that the latter, putting his right leg forward and his fists in a proper attitude, told the young officer to " come on " ; on which the cornet cursed the tailor for a " snob," and went back to his breakfast. The execution people having taken charge of Mr. Walk- er's house, Mrs. Walker was driven to take refuge with her mamma near " Sadler's Wells," and the Captain remained comfortably lodged in the Fleet. He had some ready money, and with it managed to make his existence exceed- ingly comfortable. He lived with the best society of the place, consisting of several distinguished young noblemen and gentlemen. He spent the morning playing at fives and smoking cigars ; the evening smoking cigars and dining comfortably. Cards came after dinner ; and, as the Captain THE RAVENSWING. 219 was an experienced player, and near a score of years older than most of his friends, he was generally pretty success- ful ; indeed if he had received all the money that was owed to him, he might have come out of prison and paid his credi- tors twenty shillings in the pound that is, if he had been minded to do so. But there is no use in examining into that point too closely, for the fact is, young Fipkin only paid him forty pounds out of seven hundred, for which he gave him I. 0. U.'s ; Algernon Deuceace not only did not pay him three hundred and twenty which he lost at blind hookey, but actually borrowed seven and sixpence in money from Walker, which has never been repaid to this day ; and Lord Doublequits actually lost nineteen thousand pounds to him at heads and tails, which he never paid, pleading drunkenness and his minority. The reader may recollect a paragraph which went the round of the papers entitled, "Affair of Honor in the Fleet Prison. Yesterday morning (behind the pump in the second court) Lord D-bl-qu-ts and Captain H-w-rd W-lk-r (a near relative, we understand, of His Grace the Duke of N-rf-lk) had a hostile meeting and exchanged two shots. These two young sprigs of nobility were attended to the ground by Major Flush, who, by the way, is flush no longer, and Captain Pam, late of the Dragoons. Play is said to have been the cause of the quarrel, and the gallant Captain is reported to have han- dled the noble lord's nose rather roughly at one stage of the transactions." When Morgiana at " Sadler's Wells " heard these news, she was ready to faint with terror ; and rushed to the Fleet Prison, and embraced her lord and master with her usual expansion and fits of tears : very much to that gentleman's annoyance, who happened to be in company with Pam and Flush at the time, and did not care that his handsome wife should be seen too much in the dubious pre- cincts of the Fleet. He had at least so much shame about him, and had always rejected her enteaties to be allowed to inhabit the prison with him. " It is enough," would he say, casting his eyes heaven- ward, and with a most lugubrious countenance "it is enough, Morgiana, that / should suffer, even though your thoughtlessness has been the cause of my ruin. But enough of that ! I will not rebuke you for faults for which I know you are now repentant ; and I never could bear to see you in the midst of the miseries of this horrible place. Eemain at home with your mother, and let me drag on the weary 220 MEN'S WIVES. days here alone. If you can get me any more of that pale sherry, my love, do. I require something to cheer me in solitude, and have found my chest very much relieved by that wine. Put more pepper and eggs, my dear, into the next veal-pie you make me. I can't eat the horrible messes in the coffee-room here," It was Walker's wish, I can't tell why, except that it is the wish of a great number of other persons in this strange world, to make his wife believe that he was wretched in mind and ill in health ; and all assertions to this effect the simple creature received with numberless tears of credulity : she would go home to Mrs. Crump, and say how her darling Howard was pining away, how he was ruined for her, and with what angelic sweetness he bore his captivity. The fact is, he bore it with so much resignation that no other person in the world could see that he was unhappy. His life was undisturbed by duns ; his day was his own from morning till night; his diet was good, his acquaintances jovial, his purse tolerably well supplied, and he had not one single care to annoy him. Mrs. Crump and Woolsey, perhaps, received Morgiana's account of her husband's miseries with some incredulity. The latter was now a daily visitor to "Sadler's Wells." His love for Morgiana had become a warm, fatherly, gener- ous regard for her ; it was out of the honest fellow's cellar that the wine used to come which did so much good to Mr. Walker's chest ; and he tried a thousand ways to make Morgiana happy. A very happy day, indeed, it was when, returning from her visit to the Meet, she found in her mother's sitting- room her dear grand rosewood piano, and every one of her music books, which the kind-hearted tailor had purchased at the sale of Walker's effects. And I am not ashamed to say that Morgiana herself was so charmed, that when, as usual, Mr. Woolsey came to drink tea in the evening, she actually gave him a kiss ; which frightened Mr. Woolsey, and made him blush exceedingly. She sat down, and played him that evening every one of the songs which he liked the old songs none of your Italian stuff. Podmore, the old music-master, was there too, and was delighted and as- tonished at the progress in singing which Morgiana had made ; and when the little party separated, he took Mr. Woolsey by the hand, and said, " Give me leave to tell you, sir, that you're a trump." THE RAVENSWING. 221 " That he is," said Canterfield, the first tragic ; " an honor to human nature. A man whose hand is open as day to melting charity, and whose heart ever melts at the tale of woman's distress." " Pooh, pooh, stuff and nonsense, sir," said the tailor ; but, upon my word, Mr. Canterfield's words were perfectly correct. I wish as much could be said in favor of Woolsey's old rival, Mr. Eglantine, who attended the sale too, but it was with a horrid kind of satisfaction at the thought that Walker was ruined. He bought the yellow satin sofa be- fore mentioned, and transferred it to what he calls " his sit- ting-room," where it is to this day, bearing many marks of the best bears'-grease. Woolsey bid against Baroski for the piano, very nearly up to the actual value of the instrument, when the artist withdrew from competition ; and when he was sneering at the ruin of Mr. Walker, the tailor sternly interrupted him by saying, "What the deuce are you sneering at ? You did it, sir ; and you're paid every shil- ling of your claim, ain't you ? " On which Baroski turned round to Miss Larkins, and said, "Mr. Woolsey was a ' snop ' " ; the very words, though pronounced somewhat differently, which the gallant Cornet Fipkin had applied to him. Well ; so he was a snob. But, vulgar as he was, I declare, for my part, that I have a greater respect for Mr. Woolsey than for any single nobleman or gentleman mentioned in this true history. It will be seen from the names of Messrs. Canterfield and Podmore that Morgiana was again in the midst of the widow Crump's favorite theatrical society ; and this, indeed, was the case. The widow's little room was hung round with the pictures which were mentioned at the commence- ment of the story as decorating the bar of the "Bootjack"; and several times in a week she received her friends from the " Wells," and entertained them with such humble re- freshments of tea and crumpets as her modest means per- mitted her to purchase. Among these persons Morgiana lived and sung quite as contentedly as she had ever done among the demireps of her husband's society; and, only she did not dare to own it to herself, was a great deal hap- pier than she had been for many a day. Mrs. Captain Walker was still a great lady amongst them. Even in his ruin, Walker, the director of three companies, and the owner of the splendid pony-chaise, was to these simple per- 000 MEN'S WIVES. sons an awful character ; and when mentioned, they talked with a great deal of gravity of his being in the country, and hoped Mrs. Captain TV. had good news of him. They all knew he was in the Fleet ; but had he not in prison fought a duel with a viscount ? Montmorency (of the Nor- folk circuit) was in the Fleet too ; and when Canterfield went to see poor Montey, the latter had pointed out Walker to his friend, who actually hit Lord George Tennison across the shoulders in play with a racket-bat ; which event was soon made known to the whole green-room. " They had me up one day," said Montmorency, " to sing a comic song, and give my recitations ; and we had champagne and lobster-salad ; such nobs ! " added the player. "Billingsgate and Vauxhall were there too, and left college at eight o'clock." When Morgiana was told of the circumstance by her mother, she hoped her dear Howard had enjoyed the evening, and was thankful that for once he could forget his sorrows. Nor, somehow, was she ashamed of her- self for being happy afterwards, but gave way to her natural good humor without repentance or self-rebuke. 1 believe indeed (alas ! why are we made acquainted with the same fact regarding ourselves long after it is past and gone ?) I believe these were the happiest days of Morgiana's whole life. She had no cares except the pleasant one of attending on her husband, an easy, smiling temperament which made her regardless of to- morrow; and, add to this, a delightful hope relative to a certain interesting event which was about to occur, and which I shall not particularize further than by say- ing, that she was cautioned against too much singing by Mr. Squills, her medical attendant ; and that widow Crump was busy making up a vast number of little caps and diminutive cambric shirts, such as delighted grandmothers are in the habit of fashioning. I hope this is as genteel a way of signifying the circumstance which was about to take place in the Walker family as Miss Prim herself could desire. Mrs. Walker's mother was about to become a grandmother. There's a phrase ! The Morning Post, which says this story is vulgar, I'm sure cannot quarrel with that. I don't believe the whole Court Guide would convej^ an intimation more delicately. Well, Mrs. Crump's little grandchild was born, entirely to the dissatisfaction, I must say, of his father; who, THE RAVENSWING. 223 when the infant was brought to him in the Fleet, had him abruptly covered up in his cloak again, from which he had been removed by the jealous prison door-keepers ; why, do you think ? Walker had a quarrel with one of them, and the wretch persisted in believing that the bundle Mrs. Crump was bringing to her son-in-law was a bundle of disguised brandy! " The brutes ! " said the lady ; " and the father's a brute too," said she. " He takes no more notice of me than if I was a kitchen-maid, and of Woolsey than if he was a leg of mutton the dear, blessed little cherub!" Mrs. Crump was a mother-in-law ; let us pardon her hatred of her daughter's husband. The Woolsey compared in the above sentence both to a leg of mutton and a cherub, was not the eminent member of the firm of Linsey, Woolsey, and Co., but the little baby who was christened Howard Woolsey Walker, with the full consent of the father ; who said the tailor was a deuced good fellow, and felt really obliged to him for the sherry, for a frock-coat which he let him have in prison, and for his kindness to Morgiana. The tailor loved the little boy with all his soul ; he attended his mother to her churching, and the child to the font ; and, as a present to his little godson on his christening, he sent two yards of the finest white kerseymere in his shop to make him a cloak. The duke had had a pair of inexpressibles off that very piece. House-furniture is bought and sold, music-lessons are given, children are born and christened, ladies are confined and churched time, in other words, passes, and yet Captain Walker still remains in prison ! Does it not seem strange that he should still languish there between palisaded walls near Fleet Market, and that he should not be re- stored to that active and fashionable world of which he was an ornament ? The fact is, the Captain had been before the Court for the examination of his debts ; and the Commissioner, with a cruelty quite shameful towards a fallen man, had qualified his ways of getting money in most severe language, and had sent him back to prison again for the space of nine calendar months, an indefinite period, and until his accounts could be made up. This delay Walker bore like a philosopher, and, far from repining, was still the gayest fellow of the tennis-court, and the soul of the midnight carouse. There is no use in raking up old stories, and hunting 224 MEN'S WIVES. through files of dead newspapers, to know what were the specific acts which made the Commissioner so angry with Captain Walker. Many a rogue has come before the Court, and passed through it since then : and I would lay a wager that Howard Walker was not a bit worse than his neighbors. But as he was not a lord, and as he had no friends on coming out of prison, and had settled no money on his wife, and had, as it must be confessed, an exceedingly bad character, it is not likely that the latter would be forgiven him when once more free in the world. For instance, when Doublequits left the Fleet, he was received with open arms by his family and had two-and- thirty horses in his stables before a week was over. Pam, of the Dragoons, came out, and instantly got a place as government courier, a place found so good of late years (and no wonder, it is better pay than that of a colonel), that our noblemen and gentry eagerly press for it. Frank Hurricane was sent out as registrar of Tobago, or Sago, or Ticonderago ; in fact for a younger son of good family it is rather advantageous to get into debt twenty or thirty thousand pounds ; you are sure of a good place afterwards in the colonies. Your friends are so anxious to get rid of you that they will move heaven and earth to serve you. And so all the above companions of misfortune with Walker were speedily made comfortable; but he had no rich parents ; his old father was dead in York jail. How was he to start in the world again ? What friendly hand was there to fill his pocket with gold, and his cup with sparkling champagne ? He was, in fact, an object of the greatest pity, for I know of no greater than a gentleman of his habits without the means of gratifying them. He must live well, and he has not the means. Is there a more pathetic case ? As for a mere low beggar some laborless laborer, or some weaver out of place don't let us throw away our compassion upon them. Psha! they are ac- customed to starve. They can sleep upon boards, or dine off a crust ; whereas a gentleman would die in the same situation. I think this was poor Morgiana's way of reason- ing. For Walker's cash in prison beginning presently to run low, and knowing quite well that the dear fellow could not exist without the luxuries to which he had been ac- customed, she borrowed money from her mother, until the poor old lady was a sec. She even confessed, with tears, to Woolsey, that she was in particular want of twenty pounds, THE RAVENSWING. 225 to pay a poor milliner, whose debt she could not bear to put in her husband's schedule. And I need not say she carried the money to her husband, who might have been greatly benefited by it, only he had a bad run of luck at the cards ; and how the deuce can a man help that? Woolsey had repurchased for her one of the Cashmere shawls. She left it behind her one day at the Fleet Prison, and some rascal stole it there ; having the grace, however, to send Woolsey the ticket, signifying the place where it had been pawned. Who could the scoundrel have been ? Woolsey swore a great oath, and fancied he knew ; but if it was Walker himself (as Woolsey fancied, and probably as was the case) who made way with the shawl, being pressed thereto by necessity, was it fair to call him a scoundrel for so doing, and should we not rather laud the 15 226 MEN'S WIVES. delicacy of his proceeding ? He was poor ; who can com- mand the cards ? but he did not wish his wife should know how poor ; he could not bear that she should suppose him arrived at the necessity of pawning a shawl. She who had such beautiful ringlets, of a sudden pleaded cold in the head, and took to wearing caps. One summer evening, as she and the baby and Mrs. Crump and Woolsey (let us say all four babies together) were laughing and playing in Mrs. Crump's drawing-room, playing the most absurd gambols, fat Mrs. Crump, for instance, hiding behind the sofa, Woolsey chuck-chucking, cock-a-doodle- doing, and performing those indescribable freaks which gentlemen with philoprogenitive organs will execute in the company of children, in the midst of their play the baby gave a tug at his mother's cap : off it came her hair was cut close to her head ! Morgiana turned as red as sealing-wax, and trembled very much ; Mrs. Crump screamed, " My child, where is your hair ? " and Woolsey, bursting out with a most tre- mendous oath against Walker that would send Miss Prim into convulsions, put his handkerchief to his face, and actually wept. "The infernal bubble-ubble-ackguard ! " said he, roaring and clinching his fists. As he had passed the Bower of Bloom a few days before, he saw Mossrose, who was combing out a jet-black ringlet, and held it up, as if for Woolsey's examination, with a peculiar grin. The tailor did not understand the joke, but he saw now what had happened. Morgiana had sold her hair for five guineas ; she would have sold her arm had her husband bidden her. On looking in her drawers it was found she had sold almost all her wearing apparel ; the child's clothes were all there, however. It was because her husband talked of disposing of a gilt coral that the child had, that she had parted with the locks which had formed her pride. "I'll give you twenty guineas for that hair, you infa- mous fat coward," roared the little tailor to Eglantine that evening. " Give it up, or I'll kill you " " Mr. Mossrose ! Mr. Mossrose ! " shouted the perfumer. "Veil, vatsh de matter, vatsh de row, fight avay, my boys ; two to one on the tailor," said Mr. Mossrose, much enjoying the sport (for Woolsey, striding through the shop without speaking to him, had rushed into the studio, where he plumped upon Eglantine). THE RAVENSWINO. 227 " Tell him about that hair, sir." " That hair ! Now keep yourself quiet, Mister Timble, and don't tink for to bully me. You mean Mrs. Valker's 'air ? Vy, she sold it me." " And the more blackguard you for buying it ! Will you take twenty guineas for it ? " "No," said Mossrose. " Twenty-five ? " " Can't," said Mossrose. " Hang it ; will you take forty ? There ! " " I vish I'd kep it," said the Hebrew gentleman, with un- feigned regret. " Eglantine dressed it this very night." " For Countess Baldenstiern, the Swedish Hambassador's lady," says Eglantine (his Hebrew partner was by no means a favorite with the ladies, and only superintended the ac- counts of the concern). "It's this very night at Devon- shire 'Ouse, with four hostrich plumes, lappets, and trim- mings. And now, Mr. Woolsey, I'll trouble you to apolo- gize." Mr. Woolsey did not answer, but walked up to Mr. Eglan- tine, and snapped his fingers so close under the perfumer's nose that the latter started back and seized the bell-rope. Mossrose burst out laughing, and the tailor walked majes- tically from the shop, with both hands stuck between the lappets of his coat. " My dear," said he to Morgiana a short time afterwards, " you must not encourage that husband of yours in his ex- travagance, and sell the clothes off your poor back, that he may feast and act the fine gentleman in prison." " It is his health, poor dear soul ! " interposed Mrs. Walker : " his chest. Every farthing of the money goes to the doctors, poor fellow ! " " Well, now listen : I am a rich man " (it was a great fib, for Woolsey's income, as a junior partner of the firm, was but a small one) ; " I can very well afford to make him an allowance while he is in the Fleet, and have written to him to say so. But if you ever give him a penny, or sell a trin- ket belonging to you, upon my word and honor I will with- draw the allowance, and, though it would go to my heart, I'll never see you again. You wouldn't make me unhappy, would you ? " "I'd go on my knees to serve you, and Heaven bless you," said the wife. " Well, then, you must give me this promise." And she 228 MEN'S WIVES. did. "And now," said he, "your mother, and Podmore, and I, have been talking over matters, and we've agreed that you may make a very good income for yourself : though, to be sure, I wish it could have been managed any other way ; but needs must, you know. You're the finest singer in the universe." " La ! " said Morgiana, highly delighted. " / never heard anything like you, though I'm no judge. Podmore says he is sure you will do very well, and has no doubt you might get very good engagements at con- certs or on the stage ; and as that husband will never do any good, and you have a child to support, sing you must." " Oh ! how glad I should be to pay his debts and repay all he has done for me," cried Mrs. "Walker. " Think of his giving two hundred guineas to Mr. Baroski to have me taught. Was not that kind of him ? Do you really think I should succeed ? " " There's Miss Larkins has succeeded." "The little, high-shouldered, vulgar thing!" says Mor- giana. " I'm sure I ought to succeed if she did." " She sing against Morgiana ? " said Mrs. Crump. " I'd like to see her, indeed ! She ain't fit to snuff a candle to her." "I dare say not," said the tailor, "though I don't under- stand the thing myself; but if Morgiana can make a for- tune, why shouldn't she ? " " Heaven knows we want it, Woolsey," cried Mrs. Crump. " And to see her on the stage was always the wish of my heart : " and so it had formerly been the wish of Morgiana ; and now, with the hope of helping her husband and child, the wish became a duty, and she fell to practising once more from morning till night. One of the most generous of men and tailors who ever lived now promised, if further instruction should be consid- ered necessary (though that he could hardly believe possi- ble), that he would lend Morgiana any sum required for the payment of lessons ; and accordingly she once more be- took herself, under Podmore's advice, to the singing-school. Baroski's academy was, after the passages between them, out of the question, and she placed herself under the in- struction of the excellent English composer, Sir George Thrum, whose large and awful wife, Lady Thrum, dragon of virtue and propriety, kept watch over the master and the THE RAVENSWING. 229 pupils, and was the sternest guardian of female virtue on or off any stage. Morgiana came at a propitious moment. Baroski had launched Miss Larkins under the name of Ligonier. The Ligonier was enjoying considerable success, and was sing- ing classical music to tolerable audiences, whereas Miss Butts, Sir George's last pupil, had turned out a complete failure, and the rival house was only able to make a faint opposition to the new star with Miss M'Whirter, who, though an old favorite, had lost her upper notes and her front teeth, and, the fact was, drew no longer. Directly Sir George heard Mrs. Walker, he tapped Pod- more, who accompanied her, on th,e, waistcoat, and said, " Poddy, thank you ; we'll cut the orange-boy's throat with that voice." It was by the familiar title of orange-boy that the great Baroski was known among his opponents. " We'll crush him, Podmore," said Lady Thrum, in her deep hollow voice. " You may stop and dine." And Pod- more stayed to dinner, and ate cold mutton, and drank Marsala with the greatest reverence for the great English composer. The very next day Lady Thrum hired a pair of horses, and paid a visit to Mrs. Crump and her daughter at " Sadler's Wells." All these things were kept profoundly secret from Walk- er, who received very magnanimously the allowance of two guineas a week which Woolsey made him, and with the aid of the few shillings his wife could bring him, managed to exist as best he might. He did not dislike gin when he could get no claret, and the former liquor, under the name of " tape," used to be measured out pretty liberally in whar was formerly her Majesty's prison of the Meet. Morgiana pursued her studies under Thrum, and we shall hear in the next chapter how it was she changed her name to RAVENSWING. CHAPTEE VII. IN "WHICH MOKGIANA ADVANCES TOWARDS FAME AND HONOR, AND IN WHICH SEVERAL GREAT LITERARY CHARACTERS MAKE THEIR APPEARANCE. E must begin, my dear madam," said Sir George Thrum, " by un- learning all that Mr. Baroski (of whom I do not wish to speak with the slightest disrespect) has taught you ! " Morgiana knew that every professor says as much, and sub- mitted to undergo the study re- quisite for Sir George's system with perfect good grace. Au fond, as I was given to under- stand, the methods of the two artists were pretty similar ; but as there was rivalry between them, and continual desertion of scholars from one school to another, it was fair for each to take all the credit he could get in the success of any pupil. If a pupil failed, for instance, Thrum would say Baroski had spoiled her irretrievably ; while the German would regret " Dat dat yong voman, who had a good organ, should have trown away her dime wid dat old Drum." When one of these deserters succeeded, " Yes, yes," would either professor cry, "I formed her, she owes her fortune to me." Both of them thus, in future days, claimed the education of the famous Eavenswing ; and even Sir George Thrum, though he wished to ecraser the Ligonier, pre- tended that her present success was his work, because once she had been brought by her mother, Mrs. Larkins, to sing for Sir George's approval. When the two professors met it was with the most delighted cordiality on the part of both. " Mein lieber 230 THE RAVENSWING. 231 Herr," Thrum would say (with some malice), " your sonata in x flat is divine." "Chevalier," Baroski would reply, "dat andante movement in w is worthy of Beethoven. I gif you my sacred honor," and so forth. In fact, they loved each other as gentlemen in their profession always do. The two famous professors conduct their academies on very opposite principles. Baroski writes ballet music; Thrum, on the contrary, says " he cannot but deplore the dangerous fascinations of the dance," and writes more for Exeter Hall and Birmingham. While Baroski drives a cab in the Park with a very suspicious Mademoiselle Leocadie or Amenaide, by his side, you may see Thrum walking to evening church with his lady, and hymns are sung there of his own composition. He belongs to the "Athenseum Club," he goes to the Iev6e once a year, he does everything that a respectable man should, and if, by the means of this respectability, he manages to make his little trade far more profitable than it otherwise would be, are we to quarrel with him for it ? Sir George, in fact, had every reason to be respectable. He had been a choir-boy at Windsor, had played to the old King's violoncello, had been intimate with him, and had re- ceived knighthood at the hand of his revered sovereign. He had a snuff-box which his Majesty gave him, and por- traits of him and the young princes all over the house. He had also a foreign order (no other, indeed, than the Elephant and Castle of Kalbsbraten-Pumpernickel), con- ferred upon him by the Grand Duke when here with the allied sovereigns in 1814. With this ribbon round his neck, on gala days, and in a white waistcoat, the old gen- tleman looked splendid as he moved along in a blue coat with the Windsor button, and neat black small-clothes, and silk stockings. He lived in an old, tall, dingy house, furnished in the reign of George III., his beloved master, and not much more cheerful now than a family vault. They are awfully funereal, those ornaments of the close of the last century, tall, gloomy, horse-hair chairs, mouldy Turkey carpets, with wretched druggets to guard them, little cracked sticking-plaster miniatures of people in tours and pigtails over high-shouldered mantle-pieces, two dis- mal urns on each side of a lanky sideboard, and in the midst a queer twisted receptacle for worn-out knives with green handles. Under the sideboard stands a cellaret that 232 MEN'S WIVES. looks as if it held half a bottle of currant wine, and a shivering plate-warmer that never could get any comfort out of the wretched old cramped grate yonder. Don't you know in such houses the gray gloom that hangs over the stairs, the dull-colored old carpet that winds its way up the same, growing thinner, duller, and more threadbare, as it mounts to the bedroom floors ? There is something awful in the bedroom of a respectable old couple of sixty-five. Think of the old feathers, turbans, bugles, petticoats, poma- tum-pots, spencers, white satin shoes, false fronts, the old flaccid, boneless stays tied up in faded ribbon, the dusky fans, the old forty-years-old baby- linen, the letters of Sir George when he was young, the doll of poor Maria, who died in 1803, Frederick's first corduroy breeches, and the news- paper which contains the account of his distinguishing him- self at the siege of Seringapatam. All these lie somewhere, damp and squeezed down into glum old presses and ward- robes. At that glass the wife has sat many times these fifty years; in that old morocco bed her children were born. Where are they now ? Fred, the brave captain, and Charles, the saucy colleger ; there hangs a drawing of him done by Mr. Beechey, and that sketch by Cosway was the very likeness of Louisa before . . . "Mr. Fitz-Boodle ! for Heaven's sake come down. What are you doing in a lady's bedroom ? " " The fact is, madam, I had no business there in life ; but, having had quite enough wine with Sir George, my thoughts had wandered up stairs into the sanctuary of female excellence, where your ladyship nightly reposes. You do not sleep so well now as in old days, though there is no patter of little steps to wake you overhead." They call that room the nursery still, and the little wicket still hangs at the upper stairs : it has been there for forty years bon Dieu ! Can't you see the ghosts of little faces peering over it ? I wonder whether they get up in the night as the moonlight shines into the blank, vacant old room, and play there solemnly with little ghostly horses, and the spirits of dolls, and tops that turn and turn but don't hum. Once more, sir, come down to the lower story that is, to the Morgiana story with which the above sentences have no more to do than this morning's leading article in The Times; only it was at this house of Sir George Thrum's that I met Morgiana. Sir George, in old days, THE RAVENSWING. 233 had instructed some of the female members of our family, and I recollect cutting my fingers as a child with one of these attenuated green-handled knives in the queer box yonder. In those days Sir George Thrum was the first great musi- cal teacher of London, and the royal patronage brought him a great number of fashionable pupils, of whom Lady Fitz-Boodle was one. It was a long, long time ago : in fact, Sir George Thrum was old enough to remember persons who had been present at Mr. Braham's first appearance, and the old gentleman's days of triumph had been those of Billington and Incledon, Catalani and Madame Storace. He was the author of several operas ("The Camel Driver," "Britons Alarmed; or the Siege of Bergen-op- Zoorn," &c., &c.) and, of course, of songs which had consid- erable success in their day, but are forgotten now, and are as much faded and out of fashion as those old carpets which we have described in the professor's house, and which were, doubtless, very brilliant once. But such is the fate of carpets, of flowers, of music, of men, and of the most admirable novels even this story will not be alive for many centuries. Well, well, why struggle against Fate? But, though his hey-day of fashion was gone, Sir George still held his place among the musicians of the old school, conducted occasionally at the Ancient Concerts and the " Philharmonic," and his glees are still favorites after pub- lic dinners, and are sung by those old bacchanalians, in chestnut wigs, who attend for the purpose of amusing the guests on such occasions of festivity. The great old peo- ple at the gloomy old concerts before mentioned always pay Sir George marked respect ; and, indeed, from the old gentleman's peculiar behavior to his superiors, it is impos- sible they should not be delighted with him, so he leads at almost every one of the concerts in the old-fashioned houses in town. Becomingly obsequious to his superiors, he is with the rest of the world properly majestic, and has obtained no small success by his admirable and undeviating respect- ability. Kespectability has been his great card through life ; ladies can trust their daughters at Sir George Thrum's academy. "A good musician, madam," says he to the mother of a new pupil, " should not only have a fine ear, a good voice, and an indomitable industry, but, above all, a 234 MEN'S WIVES. faultless character faultless, that is, as far as our poor nature will permit. And you will remark that those young persons with whom your lovely daughter, Miss Smith, will pursue her musical studies, are all, in a moral point of view, as spotless as that charming young lady. How should it be otherwise ? I have been myself the father of a family; I have been honored with the intimacy of the wisest and best of kings, my late sovereign George III., and I can proudly show an example of decorum to my pupils in my Sophia. Mrs. Smith, I have the honor of introducing to you my Lady Thrum." The old lady would rise at this, and make a gigantic courtesy, such a one as had begun the minuet at Rauelagh fifty years ago, and, the introduction ended, Mrs. Smith would retire, after having seen the portraits of the princes, his late Majesty's snuff-box, and a piece of music which he used to play, noted by himself Mrs. Smith, I say, would drive back to Baker Street, delighted to think that her Frederica had secured so eligible and respectable a master. I forgot to say that, during the interview between Mrs. Smith and Sir George, the latter would be called out of his study by his black servant, and my Lady Thrum would take that opportunity of mentioning when he was knighted, and how he got his foreign order, and deploring the sad condition of other musical professors, and the dreadful im- morality which sometimes arose in consequence of their laxness. Sir George was a good deal engaged to dinners in the season, and if invited to dine with a nobleman, as he might possibly be on the day when Mrs. Smith requested the honor of his company, he would write back " that he should have had the sincerest happiness in waiting upon Mrs. Smith in Baker Street, if, previously, my Lord Tweedledale had not been so kind as to engage him." This letter, of course, shown by Mrs. Smith to her friends, was received by them with proper respect ; and thus, in spite of age and new fashions, Sir George still reigned pre-eminent for a mile round Cavendish Square. By the young pupils of the academy he was called Sir Charles Grandison ; and, indeed, fully deserved this title on account of the indomitable respectability of his whole actions. It was under this gentleman that Morgiana made her debut in public life. I do not know what arrangements may have been made between Sir George Thrum and his pupil regarding the profits which were to accrue to thp THE RAVEN SWING. 235 former from engagements procured by him for the latter ; but there was, no doubt, an understanding between them. For Sir George, respectable as he was, had the reputation of being extremely clever at a bargain ; and Lady Thrum herself, in her great high-tragedy way, could purchase a pair of soles or select a leg of mutton with the best house- keeper in London. When, however, Morgiana, had been for six months under his tuition, he began, for some reason or other, to be exceedingly hospitable, and invited his friends to numerous entertainments ; at one of which, as I have said, I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Walker. Although the worthy musician's dinners were not good, the old knight had some excellent wine in his cellar, and his arrangement of his party deserves to be commended. For instance, he meets me and Bob Fitz-Urse in Pall Mall, at whose paternal house he was also a visitor. " My dear young gentlemen," says he, " will you come and dine with a poor musical composer ? I have some comet-hock, and, what is more curious to you perhaps, as men of wit, one or two of the great literary characters of London whom you would like to see quite curiosities, my dear young friends." And we agreed to go. To the literary men he says, " I have a little quiet party at home, Lord Boundtowers, the Honorable Mr. Fitz-Urse of the Life Guards, and a few more. Can you tear yourself away from the war of wits, and take a quiet dinner with a few mere men about town ? " The literary men instantly purchase new satin stocks and white gloves, and are delighted to fancy themselves mem- bers of the world of fashion. Instead of inviting twelve Koyal Academicians, or a dozen authors, or a dozen men of science, to dinner, as his Grace the Duke of and the Eight Honorable Sir Eobert are in the habit of doing once a year, this plan of fusion is the one they should adopt. Not invite all artists, as they would invite all farmers to a rent-dinner; but they should have a proper commingling of artists and men of the world. There is one of the latter whose name is George Savage Fitz-Boodle, who but let us return to Sir George Thrum. Fitz-Urse and I arrive at the dismal old house, and are conducted up the staircase by a black servant, who shouts out, " Missa Fiss-Boodle the Honorable Missa Fiss-Urse ! " It was evident that Lady Thrum had instructed the swarthy 236 MEN'S WIVES. groom of the chambers (for there is nothing particularly honorable in my friend Fitz's face that I know of, unless an abominable squint may be said to be so). Lady Thrum, whose figure is something like that of the shot-tower opposite Waterloo Bridge, makes a majestic inclination and a speech to signify her pleasure at receiving under her roof two of the children of Sir George's best pupils. A lady in black velvet is seated by the old fireplace, with whom a stout gentleman in an exceedingly light coat and ornamental waistcoat is talking very busily. "The great star of the night," whispers our host. " Mrs. Walker, gen- tlemen the Ravenswing ! She is talking to the famous Mr. Slang, of the theatre." " Is she a fine singer ? " says Fitz-Urse. " She's a very fine woman." " My dear young friends, you shall hear to-night ! I, who have heard every fine voice in Europe, confidently pledge my respectability that the Eavenswing is equal to them all. She has the graces, sir, of a Venus, with the mind of a muse. She is a siren, sir, without the dangerous qualities of one. She is hallowed, sir, by her misfortunes as by her genius ; and I am proud to think that my instruc- tions have been the means of developing the wondrous qualities that were latent within her until now." " You don't say so ! " says gobemouche Fitz-Urse. Having thus indoctrinated Mr. Fitz-Urse, Sir George takes another of his guests, and proceeds to work upon him, " My dear Mr. Bludyer, how do you do ? Mr. Fitz-Boodle, Mr. Bludyer, the brilliant and accomplished wit, whose sallies in the Tomahawk delight us every Saturday. Nay, no blushes, my dear sir ; you are very wicked, but oh ! so pleasant. Well. Mr. Bludyer, I am glad to see you, sir, and hope you will have a favorable opinion of our genius, sir. As I was saying to Mr. Fitz-Boodle, she has the graces of a Venus with the mind of a muse. She is a siren, without the dangerous qualities of one," &c. This little speech was made to half a dozen persons in the course of the evening persons, for the most part, connected with the public journals or the theatrical world. There was Mr. Squinny, the editor of the Flowers of Fashion ; Mr. Desmond Mulli- gan, the poet, and reporter for a morning paper ; and other worthies of their calling. For though Sir George is a respectable man, and as high-minded and moral an old gentleman as ever wore knee-buckles, he does not neglect THE RAVENSWING. 237 the little arts of popularity, and can condescend to receive very queer company if need be. For instance, at the dinner-party at which I had the honor of assisting, and at which, on the right hand of Lady Thrum, sat the oblige nobleman, whom the Thrums were a great deal too wise to omit (the sight of a lord does good to us commoners, or why else should we be so anxious to have one ?). In the second place of honor, and on her ladyship's left hand, sat Mr. Slang, the manager of one of the thea- tres ; a gentleman whom my Lady Thrum would scarcely, but for a great necessity's sake, have been induced to invite to her table. He had the honor of leading Mrs. Walker to dinner, who looked splendid in black velvet and turban, full of health and smiles. Lord Roundtowers is an old gentleman who has been at the theatres five times a week for these fifty years, a living 238 MEN'S WIVES. dictionary of the stage, recollecting every actor and actress who has appeared upon it for half a century. He perfectly well remembered Miss Delancy in Morgiana ; he knew what had become of Ali Baba, and how Cassim had left the stage, and was now the keeper of a public-house. All this store of knowledge he kept quietly to himself, or only delivered in confidence to his next neighbor in the intervals of the banquet, which he enjoys prodigiously. He lives at an hotel : if not invited to dine, eats a mutton-chop very humbly at his club, and finishes his evening after the play at Crockford's, whither he goes not for the sake of the play but of the supper there. He is described in the Court Guide as of " Simmer's Hotel," and of Roundtowers, county Cork. It is said that the round towers really exist. But he has not been in Ireland since the rebellion; and his property is so hampered with ancestral mortgages, and rent- charges, and annuities, that his income is barely sufficient to provide the modest mutton-chop before alluded to. He has, any time these fifty years, lived in the wickedest com- pany in London, and is, withal, as harmless, mild, good- natured, innocent an old gentleman as can readily be seen. " Eoundy," shouts the elegant Mr. Slang, across the table, with a voice which makes Lady Thrum shudder, " Tuff, a glass of wine." My lord replies meekly, "Mr. Slang, I shall have very much pleasure. What shall it be ? " " There is Madeira near you, my lord," says my lady, pointing to a tall thin decanter of the fashion of the year. " Madeira ! Marsala, by Jove, your ladyship means ! " shouts Mr. Slang. "No, no, old birds are not caught with chaff. Thrum, old boy, let's have some of your comet- hock." " My Lady Thrum, I believe that is Marsala," says the knight, blushing a little in reply to a question from his Sophia. " Ajax, the hock to Mr. Slang." " I'm in that," yells Bludyer from the end of the table. "My lord, I'll join you." "Mr. , I beg your pardon I shall be very happy to take wine with you, sir." "It is Mr. Bludyer, the celebrated newspaper writer," whispers Lady Thrum. "Bludyer, Bludyer? A very clever man, I dare say. He has a very loud voice, and reminds me of Brett. Does your THE RAVENSWING. 239 ladyship remember Brett, who played the ' Fathers ' at the Haymarket in 1802 ? " "What an old stupid Koundtowers is!" says Slang, archly, nudging Mrs. Walker in the side. "How's Walker, eh?" " My husband is in the country," replied Mrs. Walker, hesitatingly. " Gammon ! J know where he is ! Law bless you don't blush. I've been there myself a dozen times. We were talking about quod, Lady Thrum. Were you ever in college ? " " I was at the Commemoration at Oxford in 1814, when the sovereigns were there, and at Cambridge when Sir George received his degree of Doctor of Music." "Laud, Laud, that's not the college we mean." "There is also the college in Gower Street, where my grandson " " This is the college in Queer Street, ma'am, haw, haw ! Mulligan, you divvle (in an Irish accent), a glass of wine with you. Wine, here, you waiter! What's your name, you black nigger ? 'Possum up a gum-tree, eh ? Fill him up. Dere he go" (imitating the Mandingo manner of speaking English). In this agreeable way would Mr. Slang rattle on, speedily making himself the centre of the conversation, and address- ing graceful familiarities to all the gentlemen and ladies round him. It was good to see how the little knight, the most moral and calm of men, was compelled to receive Mr. Slang's stories, and the frightened air with which, at the conclu- sion of one of them, he would venture upon a commendatory grin. His lady, on her part too, had been laboriously civil ; and, on the occasion on which I had the honor of meeting this gentleman and Mrs. Walker, it was the latter who gave the signal for withdrawing to the lady of the house, by saying, " I think, Lady Thrum, it is quite time for us to retire." Some exquisite joke of Mr. Slang's was the cause of this abrupt disappearance. But, as they went up stairs to the drawing-room, Lady Thrum took occasion to say, " My dear, in the course of your profession you will have to submit to many such familiarities on the part of persons of low breeding, such as I fear Mr. Slang is. But let me caution you against giving way to your temper as you did. Did you not perceive that / never allowed him 240 MEN'S WIVES. to see my inward dissatisfaction ? And I make it a partic- ular point that you should be very civil to him to-night. Your interests our interests depend upon it." " And are my interests to make me civil to a wretch like that ? " " Mrs. Walker, would you wish to give lessons in moral- ity and behavior to Lady Thrum?" said the old lady, drawing herself up with great dignity. It was evident that she had a very strong desire indeed to conciliate Mr. Slang ; and hence I have no doubt that Sir George was to have a considerable share of Morgiana's earnings. Mr. Bludyer, the famous editor of the Tomahawk, whose jokes Sir George pretended to admire so much (Sir George who never made a joke in his life), was a press bravo of considerable talent and no principle, and who, to use his own words, would "back himself for a slashing article against any man in England ! " He would not only write, but fight on a pinch ; was a good scholar, and as savage in his manner as with his pen. Mr. Squinny is of exactly the opposite school, as delicate as milk and water, harmless in his habits, fond of the flute when the state of his chest will allow him, a great practiser of waltzing and dancing in general, and in his journal mildly malicious. He never goes beyond the bounds of politeness, but manages to insinuate a great deal that is disagreeable to an author in the course of twenty lines of criticism. Personally he is quite respectable, and lives with two maiden aunts at Brompton. Nobody, on the contrary, knows where Mr. Bludyer lives. He has houses of call, mysterious taverns where he may be found at particular hours by those who need him, and where panting publishers are in the habit of hunting him up. For a bottle of wine and a guinea he will write a page of praise or abuse of any man living, or on any subject or on any line of politics. " Hang it, sir," says he, " pay me enough and I will write down my own father ! " According to the state of his credit, he is dressed either almost in rags or else in the extremest flush of fashion. With the latter attire he puts on a haughty and aristocratic air, and would slap a duke on the shoulder. If there is one thing more dangerous than to refuse to lend him a sum of money when he asks for it, it is to lend it to him ; for he never pays, and never pardons a man to whom he owes. " Walker refused to cash a bill for me," he had been heard to say, and I'll do for his wife when she comes out on the THE RAVENSWING. 241 stage ! " Mrs. Walker and Sir George Thrum were in an agony about the Tomahawk ; hence the latter's invitation to Mr. Bludyer. Sir George was in a great tremor about the Flowers of fashion, hence his invitation to Mr. Squinny. Mr. Squinny was introduced to Lord Roundtowers and Mr. Fitz-Urse as one of the most delightful and talented of our young men of genius ; and Fitz, who believes everything any one tells him, was quite pleased to have the honor of sitting near the live editor of a paper. I have reason to think that Mr. Squinny himself was no less delighted : I saw him giving his card to Fitz-Urse at the end of the second course. .No particular attention was paid to Mr. Desmond Mulli- gan. Political enthusiasm is his forte. He lives and writes in a rapture. He is, of course, a member of an inn of court, and greatly addicted to after-dinner speaking as a preparation for the bar, where as a young man of genius he hopes one day to shine. He is almost the only man to whom Bludyer is civil, for, if the latter will fight dog- gedly when there is a necessity for so doing, the former fights like an Irishman, and has a pleasure in it. He has been " on the ground " I don't know how many times, and quitted his country on account of a quarrel with Govern- ment regarding certain articles published by him in the Phoenix newspaper. With the third bottle, he becomes overpoweringly great on the wrongs of Ireland, and at that period generally volunteers a couple or more of Irish melo- dies, selecting the most melancholy in the collection. At five in the afternoon, you are sure to see him about the House of Commons, and he knows the " Reform Club " (he calls it the Refawrum) as well as if he were a member. It is curious for the contemplative mind to mark those myste- rious hangers-on of Irish members of parliament strange runners and aides-de-camp which all the honorable gentle- men appear to possess. Desmond, in his political capacity, is one of these, and besides his calling as reporter to a newspaper, is " our well-informed correspondent " of that famous Munster paper, the Green Flag of Skibbereen. With Mr. Mulligan's qualities and history I only became subsequently acquainted. On the present evening he made but a brief stay at the dinner-table, being compelled by his professional duties to attend the House of Commons. The above formed the party with whom I had the honor to dine. What other repasts Sir George Thrum may have 16 242 MEN'S WIVES. given, what assemblies of men of mere science he may have invited to give their opinion regarding his prodigy, what other editors of papers he may have pacified or rendered favorable, who knows ? On the present occasion, we did not quit the dinner-table until Mr. Slang the man- ager was considerably excited by wine, and music had been heard for some time in the drawing-room overhead during our absence. An addition had been made to the Thrum party by the arrival of several persons to spend the even- ing, a man to play on the violin between the singing, a youth to play on the piano, Miss Horsman to sing with Mrs. Walker, and other scientific characters. In a corner sat a red-faced old lady, of whom the mistress of the man- sion took little notice ; and a gentleman with a royal but- ton, who blushed and looked exceedingly modest. " Hang me ! " says Mr. Bludyer, who had perfectly good reasons for recognizing Mr. Woolsey, and who on this day chose to assume his aristocratic air ; " there's a tailor in the room ! What do they mean by asking me to meet trades- men ? " " Delancy, my dear," cries Slang, entering the room with a reel, " how's your precious health ? Give us your hand ! When are we to be married ? Make room for me on the sofa, that's a duck ! " " Get along, Slang," says Mrs. Crump, addressed by the manager by her maiden name (artists generally drop the title of honor which people adopt in the world, and call each other by their simple surnames) " get along, Slang, or I'll tell Mrs. S. !" The enterprising manager replies by sportively striking Mrs. Crump on the side a blow which causes a great giggle from the lady insulted, and a most good-humored threat to box Slang's ears. I fear very much that Morgiana's mother thought Mr. Slang an exceed- ingly gentlemanlike and agreeable person; besides she was eager to have his good opinion of Mrs. Walker's sing- ing. The manager stretched himself out with much graceful- ness on the sofa, supporting two little dumpy legs encased in varnished boots on a chair. "Ajax, some tea to Mr. Slang," said my lady, looking towards that gentleman with a countenance expressive of some alarm, I thought. " That's right, Ajax, my black prince ! " exclaimed Slang, when the negro brought the required refreshment ; THE RAVENSWING. 243 " and now I suppose you'll be wanted in the orchestra yon- der. Don't Ajax play the cymbals, Sir George ? " " Ha, ha, ha ! very good capital ! " answered the knight, exceedingly frightened; "but ours is not a mili- tary band. Miss Horsman, Mr. Craw, my dear Mrs. Kavenswing, shall we begin the trio ? Silence, gentlemen, if you please, it is a little piece from my opera of the 'Brigand's Bride.' Miss Horsman takes the Page's part, Mr. Craw is Stiletto the Brigand, and my accomplished pupil is the Bride ;" and the music began. " The Bride. " My heart with joy is heating, My eyes with tears are dim ; " The Page. " Her heart with joy is beating, Her eyes are fixed on him; " TJie Brigand. " My heart with rage is beating, In blood my eyeballs swim I " What may have been the merits of the music or the sing- ing, I, of course, cannot guess. Lady Thrum sat opposite the teacups, nodding her head and beating time very gravely. Lord Roundtowers, by her side, nodded his head too, for a while, and then fell asleep. I should have done the same but for the manager, whose actions were worthy of remark. He sang with all the three singers, and a great deal louder than any of them ; he shouted bravo ! or hissed as he thought proper ; he criticised all the points of Mrs. Walker's person. " She'll do, Crump, she'll do a splen- did arm you'll see her eyes in the shilling gallery! What sort of a foot has she ? She's five feet three, if she's an inch ! Bravo slap up capital hurra ! " and he concluded by saying, with the aid of the Eavenswing, he would put Ligonier's nose out of joint ! The enthusiasm of Mr. Slang almost reconciled Lady Thrum to the abruptness of his manners, and even caused Sir George to forget that his chorus had been interrupted by the obstreperous familiarity of the manager. " And what do you think, Mr. Bludyer," said the tailor, delighted that his protegee should be thus winning all hearts, " isn't Mrs. Walker a tip-top singer, eh, sir?" " I think she's a very bad one, Mr. Woolsey : " said the 244 MEN'S WIVES. illustrious author, wishing to abbreviate all communica- tions with a tailor to whom he owed forty pounds. " Then, sir," says Mr. Woolsey, fiercely, " I'll I'll thank you to pay me my little bill ! " It is true there was no connection between Mrs. Walker's singing and Woolsey's little bill ; that the " Then, sir," was perfectly illogical on Woolsey's part; but it was a very happy hit for the future fortunes of Mrs. Walker. Who knows what would have come of her debut but for that " Then, sir," and whether a " smashing article " from the Tomahawk might not have ruined her forever ? " Are you a relation of Mrs. Walker's ? " said Mr. Blud- yer in reply to the angry tailor. " What's that to you, whether I am or not ? " replied Woolsey, fiercely. "But I'm the friend of Mrs. Walker, sir ; proud am I to say so, sir ; and, as the poet says, sir, ' a little learning's a dangerous thing,' sir ; and I think a man who don't pay his bills may keep his tongue quiet at least, sir, and not abuse a lady, sir, whom everybody else praises, sir. You shan't humbug me any more, sir ; you shall hear from my attorney to-morrow, so mark that ! " " Hush, my dear Mr. Woolsey," cried the literary man, "don't make a noise; come into this window: is Mrs. Walker really a friend of yours ? " " I've told you so, sir." " Well, in that case, I shall do my utmost to serve her ; and, look you, Woolsey, any article you choose to send about her to the Tomahawk I promise you I'll put in." " Will you, though ? then we'll say nothing about the little bill." " You may do on that point," answered Bludyer, haughtily, "exactly as you please. I am not to be frightened from my duty, mind that ; and mind, too, that I can write a slashing article better than any man in England: I could crush her by ten lines." The tables were now turned, and it was Woolsey's turn to be alarmed. " Pooh ! pooh ! I was angry," said he, " because you abused Mrs. Walker, who's an angel on earth; but I'm very willing to apologize. I say come let me take your measure for some new clothes, eh ! Mr. B. ? " "I'll come to your shop," answered the literary man, quite appeased. " Silence .' they're beginning another song." THE RAVENSWING. 245 The songs, which I don't attempt to describe (and, upon my word and honor, as far as / can understand matters, I believe to this day that Mrs. Walker was only an ordinary singer), the songs lasted a great deal longer than I liked ; but I was nailed, as it were, to the spot, having agreed to sup at Knightsbridge barracks with Fitz- Urse, whose carriage was ordered at eleven o'clock. " My dear Mr. Fitz-Boodle," said our old host to me, " you can do me the greatest service in the world." " Speak, sir ! " said I. " Will you ask your honorable and gallant friend, the Captain, to drive home Mr. Squinny to Brompton ? " " Can't Mr. Squinny get a cab ? " Sir George looked particularly arch. "Generalship, my dear young friend, a little harmless generalship. Mr. Squinny will not give much for my opinion of my pupil, but he will value very highly the opinion of the Honorable Mr. Fitz-Urse." For a moral man, was not the little knight a clever fel- low? He had bought Mr. Squinny for a dinner worth ten shillings, and for a ride in a carriage with a lord's son. Squinny was carried to Brompton, and set down at his aunt's door, delighted with his new friends, and exceed- ingly sick with a cigar they had made him smoke. CHAPTER VIII. IN WHICH MB. WALKER SHOWS GREAT PRUDENCE AND FORBEARANCE. HE describing of all these persons does not advance Morgiana's story much. But perhaps some country readers are not acquainted with the class of persons by whose printed opinions they are guided, and are simple enough to imagine that mere merit will make a reputation on the stage or elsewhere. The making of a theatrical success is a much more complicated and curious thing than such per- sons fancy it to be. Im- mense are the pains taken to get a good word from Mr. This of the Star, or Mr. That of the Courier, to propitiate the favor of the critic of the day, and get the editors of the metropolis into a good humor, above all, to have the name of the person to be puffed perpetually before the public. Artists cannot be advertised like Macassar oil or blacking, and they want it to the full as much; hence endless ingenuity must be practised in order to keep the popular attention awake. Suppose a great actor moves from London to Windsor, the Brentford Champion must state, that " Yesterday Mr. Blazes and suite passed rapidly through our city ; the cele- brated comedian is engaged, we hear, at Windsor, to give some of his inimitable readings of our great national bard to the most illustrious audience in the realm." This piece of intelligence the Hammersmith Observer will question the next week, as thus : "A contemporary, the Brentford 246 THE RAVENSWING. 247 Champion, says that Blazes is engaged to give Shakspearean readings at Windsor to ' the most illustrious audience in the realm.' We question this fact very much. We would, indeed, that it were true ; but the most illustrious audience in the realm prefer foreign melodies to the native wood- notes wild of the song-bird of Avon. Mr. Blazes is simply gone to Eton, where his son, Master Massiuger Blazes, is suffering, we regret to hear, under a severe attack of the chicken-pox. This complaint (incident to youth) has raged, we understand, with frightful virulence in Eton School." And if, after the above paragraphs, some London paper chooses to attack the folly of the provincial press, which talks of Mr. Blazes, and chronicles his movements, as if he were a crowned head, what harm is done ? Blazes can write in his own name to the London journal and say that it is not his fault if provincial journals choose to chronicle his movements, and that he was far from wishing that the afflictions of those who are dear to him should form the subject of public comment, and be held up to public ridi- cule. " We had no intention of hurting the feelings of an estimable public servant," writes the editor ; " and our remarks on the chicken-pox were general, not personal. We sincerely trust that Master Massinger Blazes has re- covered from the complaint, and that he may pass through the measles, the whooping-cough, the fourth form, and all other diseases to which youth is subject, with comfort to himself, and credit to his parents and teachers." At his next appearance on the stage after this controversy, a British public calls for Blazes three times after the play ; and somehow there is sure to be some one with a laurel- wreath in a stage-box, who flings that chaplet at the in- spired artist's feet. I don't know how it was, but before that debut of Mor- giana, the English press began to heave and throb in a convulsive manner, as if indicative of the near birth of some great thing. For instance, you read in one paper, "Anecdote of Karl Maria Von Weber. When the author of Oberon was in England, he was invited by a noble duke to dinner, and some of the most celebrated of our artists were assembled to meet him. The signal being given to descend to the salle-a-manger, the German composer was invited by his noble host (a bachelor) to lead the way. ' Is it not the fashion in your country,' said he, simply, for the man of the first eminence to take the first place ? Here is one whose genius entitles him to be first anywhere.' And, so saying, he pointed to our admirable English composer, Sir George Thrum. 248 MEN'S WIVES. The two musicians were friends to the last, and Sir George has still the identical piece of rosin which the author of the Freischutz gave him." The Moon (morning paper), 2d June. " George III. a composer. Sir George Thrum has in his posses- sion the score of an air, the words from Samson Agonistes, an auto- graph of the late revered monarch. We hear that that excellent composer has in store for us not only an opera, but a pupil, with whose transcendent merits the elite of our aristocracy are already familiar." Ibid., June 5. "Music with a Vengeance. The march to the sound of which the 49th and 75th regiments rushed up the breach of Badajoz was the celebrated air from Britons Alarmed; or, the Siege of Bergen-op- Zoom, by our famous English composer, Sir George Thrum. Marshal Davoust said that the French line never stood when that air was per- formed to the charge of the bayonet. We hear the veteran musician has an opera now about to appear, and have no doubt that Old Eng- land will now, as then, show its superiority over all foreign oppo- nents." Albion. "We have been accused of preferring the produit of the etranger to the talent of our own native shores ; but those who speak so, little know us. We are fanatici per la musica wherever it be, and wel- come merit dans chaque pays du monde. What do we say? Le merite n' a point de pays, as Xapoleon said ; and Sir George Thrum (Chevalier de 1'ordre de Elephant et Chateau, de Panama) is a maestro whose fame appartient a V Europe. "We have just heard the lovely elete, whose rare qualities the cav- aliere has brought to perfection, We have heard THE RAVENS- WING (pourquoi cacher un nom que demain un monde va saluer), and a creature more beautiful and gifted never bloomed before dans nos climats. She sang the delicious duet of the ' Nabucodonosore,' with Count Pizzicato with a belezza, a grandezza, a raggio, that excited in the bosom of the audience a corresponding furore : her scherzando was exquisite, though we confess we thought the conclud- ing Jioritura in the passage in y flat a leetle, a very leetle sforzata. Surely the words, ' Giorno d'orrore, Delire, dolore, Nabucodonosore,' should be given andante, and not con strepito : but this is a faute bien legere in the midst of such unrivalled excellence, and only men- tioned here that we may have something to criticise. "We hear that the enterprising impresario of one of the royal theatres has made an engagement with the Diva ; and, if we have a regret, it is that she should be compelled to sing in the unfortunate language of our rude northern clime, which does not preter itself near so well, to the bocca of the cantatrice as do the mellifluous accents of the Lingua Toscana, the langue par excellence of song. "The Ravenswing's voice is a magnificent contra-basso of -aine octaves," &c. Flowers of Fashion, June 10. THE RAVENSWING. 249 " Old Thrum, the composer, is bringing out an opera and a pupil. The opera is good, the pupil first-rate. The opera will dp much more than compete with the infernal twaddle and disgusting slip-slop of Donizetti, and the milk-and-water fools who imitate him : it will (and we ask the readers of the Tomahawk, were we EVER mistaken ?) surpass all these ; it is good, of downright English stuff. The airs are fresh and pleasing, the choruses large and noble, the instrumenta- tion solid and rich, the music is carefully written. We wish old Thrum and his opera well. "The pupil is a SURE CARD, a splendid woman, and a splendid singer. She is so handsome that she might sing as much out of tune as Miss Ligonier, and the public would forgive her ; and sings so well that were she as ugly as the aforesaid Ligonier, the audience would listen to her. The Kavenswing, that is her fantastical theatrical name ( her real name is the same with that of a notorious scoundrel in the Fleet, who invented the Panama swindle, the Pontine Marshes' swindle, the soap swindle how are you off for soap now, Mr. W-lk-r ?) the Ravenswing, we say, will do. Slang has engaged her at thirty guineas per week, and she appears next month in Thrum's opera, of which the words are written by a great ass with some talent we mean Mr. Mulligan. " There is a foreign fool in the Flowers of Fashion who is doing his best to disgust the public by his filthy flattery. It is enough to make one sick. Why is the foreign beast not kicked out of the paper?" The Tomahawk, June 17. The first three " anecdotes " were supplied by Mulligan to his paper, with many others which need not here be repeated: he kept them up with amazing energy and variety. Anecdotes of Sir George Thrum met you unex- pectedly in queer corners of country papers : puffs of the English school of music appeared perpetually in " notices to correspondents" in the Sunday prints, some of which Mr. Slang commanded, and in others over which the inde- fatigable Mulligan had a control. This youth was the soul of the little conspiracy for raising Morgiana into fame : and humble as he is, and great and respectable as is Sir George Thrum, it is my belief that the Ravenswing would never have been the Ravenswing she is but for the ingenu- ity and energy of the honest Hibernian reporter. It is only the business of the great man who writes the leading articles which appear in the large type of the daily papers to compose those astonishing pieces of eloquence ; the other parts of the paper are left to the ingenuity of the sub-editor, whose duty it is to select paragraphs, reject or receive horrid accidents, police reports, &c. ; with which, occupied as he is in the exercise of his tremendous func- tions, the editor himself cannot be expected to meddle. The fate of Europe is his province; the rise and fall of 250 MEN'S WIVES. empires, and the great questions of State demand the editor's attention: the humble puff, the paragraph about the last murder, or the state of the crops, or the sewers in Chancery Lane, is confided to the care of the sub.; and it is curious to see what a prodigious number of Irishmen exist among the sub-editors of London. When the Lib- erator enumerates the services of his countrymen, how the battle of Fontenoy was won by the Irish Brigade, how the battle of Waterloo would have been lost but for the Irish regiments, and enumerates other acts for which we are indebted to Milesian heroism and genius, he ought at least to mention the Irish brigade of the press, and the amazing services they do to this country. The truth is, the Irish reporters and soldiers appear to do their duty right well ; and my friend Mr. Mulligan is one of the former. Having the interests of his opera and the Eavenswing strongly at heart, and being amongst his brethren an exceedingly popular fellow, he managed mat- ters so that never a day passed but some paragraph appeared somewhere regarding the new singer, in whom, for their countryman's sake, all his brothers and sub-edi- tors felt an interest. These puffs, destined to make known to all the world the merits of the Eavenswing, of course had an effect upon a gentleman very closely connected with that lady, the respectable prisoner in the Fleet, Captain Walker. As long as he received his weekly two guineas from Mr. Woolsey, and the occasional half-crowns which his wife could spare in her almost daily visits to him, he had never troubled himself to inquire what her pursuits were, and had allowed her (though the worthy woman longed with all her might to betray herself) to keep her secret. He was far from thinking, indeed, that his wife would prove such a treasure to him. But when the voice of fame and the columns of the public journals brought him each day some new story regarding the merits, genius, and beauty of the Eavens- wing ; when rumors reached him that she was the favorite pupil of Sir George Thrum ; when she brought him five guineas after singing at the "Philharmonic" (other five the good soul had spent in purchasing some smart new cockades, hats, cloaks, and laces, for her little son) ; when, finally, it was said that Slang, the great manager, offered her an engagement at thirty guineas per week, Mr. Walker THE RAVENSWING. 251 became exceedingly interested in his wife's proceedings, of which he demanded from her the fullest explanation. Using his marital authority, he absolutely forbade Mrs. Walker's appearance on the public stage ; he wrote to Sir George Thrum a letter expressive of his highest indigna- tion that negotiations so important should ever have been commenced without his authorization ; and he wrote to his dear Slang (for these gentlemen were very intimate, and in the course of his transactions as an agent Mr. W. had had many dealings with Mr. S.) asking his dear Slang whether the latter thought his friend Walker would be so green as to allow his wife to appear on the stage, and he remain in prison with all his debts on his head ? And it was a curious thing now to behold how eager those very creditors who but yesterday (and with perfect correctness) had denounced Mr. Walker as a swindler; who had refused to come to any composition with him, and had sworn never to release him; how they on a sudden became quite eager to come to an arrangement with him, and offered, nay, begged and prayed him to go free, only giving them his own and Mrs. Walker's acknowledgment of their debt, with a promise that a part of the lady's sal- ary should be devoted to the payment of the claim. " The lady's salary ! " said Mr. Walker, indignantly, to these gentlemen and their attorneys. " Do you suppose I will allow Mrs. Walker to go on the stage ? do you sup- pose I am such a fool as to sign bills to the full amount of these claims against me, when in a few months more I can walk out of prison without paying a shilling ? Gentle- men, you take Howard Walker for an idiot. I like the Fleet, and rather than pay I'll stay here for these ten years." In other words, it was the Captain's determination to make some advantageous bargain for himself with his cred- itors and the gentlemen who were interested in bringing forward Mrs. Walker on the stage. And who can say that in so determining he did not act with laudable prudence and justice ? "You do not, surely, consider, my very dear sir, that half the amount of Mrs. Walker's salaries is too much for my immense trouble and pains in teaching her ? " cried Sir George Thrum (who, in reply to Walker's note, thought it most prudent to wait personally on that gentleman). " Remember that I am the first master in England ; that I 252 MEN'S WIVES. have the best interest in England ; that I can bring her out at the Palace, and at every concert and musical festival in England ; that I am obliged to teach her every single note that she utters ; and that without me she could no more sing a song than her little baby could walk without its nurse." " I believe about half what you say," said Mr. Walker. " My dear Captain Walker ! would you question my integrity ? Who was it that made Mrs. Millington's for- tune, the celebrated Mrs. Millington, who has now got a hundred thousand pounds ? Who was it that brought out the finest tenor in Europe, Poppleton ? Ask the musical world, ask those great artists themselves, and they will tell you they owe their reputation, their fortune, to Sir George Thrum." " It is very likely," replied the Captain, coolly. " You are a good master, I dare say, Sir George; but I am not going to article Mrs. Walker to you for three years, and sign her articles in the Fleet. Mrs. Walker shan't sing till I'm a free man, that's flat : if I stay here till you're dead she shan't." " Gracious powers, sir ! " exclaimed Sir George, " do you expect me to pay your debts ? " " Yes, old boy," answered the Captain, " and to give me something handsome in hand, too ; and that's my ultimatum : and so I wish you good-morning, for I'm engaged to play a match at tennis below." This little interview exceedingly frightened the worthy knight, who went home to his lady in a delirious state of alarm occasioned by the audacity of Captain Walker. Mr. Slang's interview with him was scarcely more satis- factory. He owed, he said, four thousand pounds. His creditors might be brought to compound for five shillings in the pound. He would not consent to allow his wife to make a single engagement until the creditors were satisfied, and until he had a handsome sum in hand to begin the world with. " Unless my wife comes out, you'll be in the Gazette yourself, you know you will. So you may take her or leave her, as you think fit." " Let her sing one night as a trial," said Mr. Slang. "If she sings one night, the creditors will want their money in full," replied the Captain. "I shan't let her labor, poor thing, for the profit of those scoundrels ! " added the prisoner, with much feeling. And Slang left him with a much greater respect for Walker than he had ever before possessed. He was struck with the gallantry of the man THE RAVENSWING. 253 who could triumph over misfortunes, nay, make misfortune itself an engine of good luck. Mrs. Walker was instructed instantly to have a severe sore throat. The journals in Mr. Slang's interest deplored this illness pathetically ; while the papers in the interest of the opposition theatre magnified it with great malice. "The new singer," said one, "the great wonder which Slang promised us, is as hoarse as a raven ! " " Dr. Thorax pronounces," wrote another paper, " that the quinsy, which has suddenly prostrated Mrs. Eavenswing, whose singing at the ' Philharmonic,' previous to her appearance at the ' T. E ,' excited so much applause, has destroyed the lady's voice forever. We luckily need no other prima donna, when that place, as nightly thousands acknowledge, is held by Miss Ligonier." The Looker-on said, " That although some well- informed contemporaries had declared Mrs. W. Eavenswing's complaint to be a quinsy, others, on whose authority they could equally rely, had pronounced it to be a consumption. At all events, she was in an exceedingly dangerous state ; from which, though we do not expect, we heartily trust, she may recover. Opinions differ as to the merits of this lady, some saying that she was altogether inferior to Miss Ligonier, while other connoisseurs declare the latter lady to be by no means so accomplished a person. This point, we fear," continued the Looker-on, "can never now be settled ; unless, which we fear is improbable, Mrs. Eavens- wing should ever so far recover as to be able to make her debut ; and even then, the new singer will not have a fair chance unless her voice and strength shall be fully restored. This information, which we have from exclusive resources, may be relied on," concluded the Looker-on, " as authentic." It was Mr. Walker himself, that artful and audacious Fleet prisoner, who concocted those very paragraphs against his wife's health which appeared in the journals of the Ligonier party. The partisans of that lady were delighted, the creditors of Mr. Walker astounded, at reading them. Even Sir George Thrum was taken in, and came to the Meet Prison in considerable alarm. "Mum's the word, my good sir!" said Mr. Walker. "Now is the time to make arrangements with the creditors." Well, these arrangements were finally made. It does not matter how many shillings in the pound satisfied the 254 MEN'S WIVES. rapacious creditors of Morgiana's husband. But it is certain that her voice returned to her all of a sudden upon the Captain's release. The papers of the Mulligan faction again trumpeted her perfections ; the agreement with Mr. Slang was concluded; that with Sir George Thrum the great composer satisfactorily arranged ; and the new opera underlined in immense capitals in the bills, and put in rehearsal with immense expenditure on the part of the scene-painter and costumier. Need we tell with what triumphant success the "Brig- and's Bride " was received ? All the Irish sub-editors the next morning took care to have such an account of it as made Miss Ligonier and Baroski die with envy. All the reporters who could spare time were in the boxes to support their friend's work. All the journeymen tailors of the establishment of Linsey, Woolsey, and Co., had pit tickets given to them, and applauded with all their might. All Mr. Walker's friends of the " Regent Club " lined the side-boxes with white kid gloves ; and in a little box by themselves sat Mrs. Crump and Mr. Woolsey, a great deal too much agitated to applaud so agitated, that Woolsey even forgot to fling down the bouquet he had brought for the Kavenswing. But there was no lack of those horticultural ornaments. The theatre servants wheeled away a wheelbarrow-full (which were flung on the stage the next night over again) ; and Morgiana, blushing, panting, weeping, was led off by Mr. Poppleton, the eminent tenor, who had crowned her with one of the most conspicuous of the chaplets. Here she flew to her husband, and flung her arms round his neck. He was flirting behind the side-scenes with Mademoiselle Flicflac, who had been dancing in the diver- tissement ; and was probably the only man in the theatre of those who witnessed the embrace that did not care for it. Even Slang was affected, and said with perfect sin- cerity, that he wished he had been in Walker's place. The manager's fortune was made, at least for the season. He acknowledged as much to Walker, who took a week's salary for his wife in advance that very night. There was, as usual, a grand supper in the greenroom. The terrible Mr. Bludyer appeared in a new coat of the well-known Woolsey cut, and the little tailor himself and Mrs. Crump were not the least happy of the party. But when the Eavenswing took Woolsey's hand, and said she THE RAVENSWING. 255 never would have been there but for him, Mr. Walker looked very grave, and hinted to her that she must not, in her position, encourage the attentions of persons in that rank of life. "I shall pay," says he, proudly, " every farthing that is owing to Mr. Woolsey, and shall employ him for the future. But you understand, my love, that one cannot at one's own table receive one's own tailor." Slang proposed Morgiana's health in a tremendous speech, which elicited cheers, and laughter, and sobs, such as only managers have the art of drawing from the theatrical gen- tlemen and ladies in their employ. It was observed espec- ially among the chorus-singers at the bottom of the table, that their emotion was intense. They had a meeting the next day and voted a piece of plate to Adolphus Slang, Esq., for his eminent services in the cause of the drama. Walker returned thanks for his lady. That was, he said, the proudest moment of his life. He was proud to think that he had educated her for the stage, happy to think that his sufferings had not been in vain, and that his exertions in her behalf were crowned with full success. In her name and his own he thanked the company, and sat down, and was once more particularly attentive to Mademoiselle Flicflac. Then came an oration from Sir George Thrum, in reply to Slang's toast to him. It was very much to the same effect as the speech by Walker, the two gentlemen attri- buting to themselves individually the merit of bringing out Mrs. Walker. He concluded by stating that he should always hold Mrs. Walker as the daughter of his heart, and to the last moment of his life should love and cherish her. It is certain that Sir George was exceedingly elated that night, and would have been scolded by his lady on his return home, but for the triumph of the evening. Mulligan's speech of thanks, as author of the "Brigand's Bride," was, it must be confessed, extremely tedious. It seemed there would be no end to it : when he got upon the subject of Ireland especially, which somehow was found to be intimately connected with the interests of music and the theatre. Even the choristers pooh-poohed this speech, coming though it did from the successful author, whose songs of wine, love, and battle, they had been repeating that night. The "Brigand's Bride," ran for many nights. Its choruses were tuned on the organs of the day. Morgiana's 256 MEN'S WIVES. airs, "The Hose upon my Balcony" and "Lightning on the Cataract " (recitative and scena), were on everybody's lips, and brought so many guineas to Sir George Thrum that he was encouraged to have his portrait engraved, which still may be seen in the music shops. Not many persons, I believe, bought proof impressions of the plate, price two guineas ; whereas, on the contrary, all the young clerks in banks, and all the fast young men of the universities, had pictures of the Ravenswing in their apartments as Biondetta (the brigand's bride), as Zelyma (in the "Nuptials of Benares "), as Barbareska (in the " Mine of Tobolsk "), and in all her famous characters. In the latter she dis- guises herself as an Uhlan, in order to save her father, who is in prison ; and the Ravenswing looked so fascinat* ing in this costume in pantaloons and yellow boots, that Slang was for having her instantly in Captain Macheath, whence arose their quarrel. She was replaced at Slang's theatre by Snooks, the rhinoceros-tamer, with his breed of wild buffaloes. Their success was immense. Slang gave a supper, at which all the company burst into tears ; and, assembling in the green- room next day, they, as usual, voted a piece of plate to Adolphus Slang, Esq., for his eminent services to the drama. In the Captain Macheath dispute Mr. Walker would have had his wife yield ; but on this point, and for once, she dis- obeyed her husband and left the theatre. And when Walker cursed her (according to his wont) for her abomin- able selfishness and disregard of his property, she burst into tears and said she had spent but twenty guineas on herself and baby during the year, that her theatrical dress- maker's bills were yet unpaid, and that she had never asked him how much he spent on that odious French figurante. All this was true, except about the French figurante. Walker, as the lord and master, received all Morgiana's earn- ings, and spent them as a gentleman should. He gave very neat dinners at a cottage in the Regent's Park (Mr. and Mrs. Walker lived in Green Street, Grosvenor Square), he played a good deal at the " Regent " : but as to the French figurante, it must be confessed that Mrs. Walker was in a sad error : that lady and the Captain had parted long ago ; it was Madame Dolores de Tras-os-Montes who inhabited the cottage in St. John's Wood now. But if some little errors of this kind might be attributa- THE RAVENSWING. 257 ble to the Captain, on the other hand, when his wife was in the provinces, he was the most attentive of husbands ; made all her bargains, and received every shilling before he would permit her to sing a note. Thus he prevented her from being cheated, as a person of her easy temper doubt- less would have been, by designing managers and needy concert-givers. They always travelled with four horses ; and Walker was adored in every one of the principal hotels in England. The waiters flew at his bell. The chamber- maids were afraid he was a sad naughty man, and thought his wife no such great beauty ; the landlords preferred him to any duke. He never looked at their bills, not he ! In fact his income was at least four thousand a year for some years of his life. Master Woolsey Walker was put to Dr. Wapshot's sem- inary, whence, after many disputes on the doctor's part as to getting his half-year's accounts paid, and after much com- plaint of ill-treatment on the little boy's side, he was with- drawn, and placed under the care of the Rev. Mr. Swishtail, at Turnham Green ; where all his bills are paid by his god- father, now the head of the firm of Woolsey and Co. As a gentleman, Mr. Walker still declines to see him ; but he has not, as far as I have heard, paid the sums of money which he threatened to refund ; and, as he is sel- dom at home, the worthy tailor can come to Green Street at his leisure. He and Mrs. Crump and Mrs. Walker often take the omnibus to Brentford, and a cake with them to little Woolsey at school ; to whom the tailor says he will leave every shilling of his property. The Walkers have no other children ; but when she takes her airing in the Park she always turns away at the sight of a low phaeton, in which sits a woman with rouged cheeks and a great number of over-dressed children with a French bonne, whose name, I am given to understand, is Madame Dolores de Tras-os-Montes. Madame de Tras-os- Montes always puts a great gold glass to her eye as the Bavenswing's carriage passes, and looks into it with a sneer. The two coachmen used always to exchange queer winks at each other in the ring, until Madame de Tras-os- Montes lately adopted a tremendous chasseur, with huge whiskers and a green and gold livery ; since which time the formerly named gentlemen do not recognize each other. The Eavenswing's life is one of perpetual triumph on the stage ; and, as every one of the fashionable men about 17 258 MEN'S WIVES. town have been in love with her, you may fancy what a pretty character she has. Lady Thrum would die sooner than speak to that unhappy young woman ; and in fact, the Thrums have a new pupil, who is a siren without the dan- gerous qualities of one, who has the person of a Venus and the mind of a muse, and who is coming out at one of the theatres immediately. Baroski says, "De liddle Kafen- schwing is just as font of me as effer ! " People are very shy about receiving her in society ! and when she goes to sing at a concert, Miss Prim starts up and skurries off in a state of the greatest alarm, lest " that person " should speak to her. Walker is voted a good, easy, rattling gentlemanly fellow, and nobody's enemy but his own. His wife, they say, is dreadfully extravagant ; and, indeed, since his marriage, and in spite of his wife's large income, he has been in the Bench several times ; but she signs some bills and he comes out again, and is as gay and genial as ever. All mercan- tile speculations he has wisely long since given up; he likes to throw a main of an evening, as I have said, and to take his couple of bottles at dinner. On Friday he attends at the theatre for his wife's salary, and transacts no other business during the week. He grows exceedingly stout, dyes his hair, and has a bloated, purple look about the nose and cheeks, very different from that which first charmed the heart of Morgiana. By the way, Eglantine has been turned out of the Bower of Bloom, and now keeps a shop at Tunbridge Wells. Going down thither last year without a razor, I asked a fat, seedy man, lolling in a faded nankeen jacket at the door of a tawdry little shop in the Pantiles, to shave me. He said in reply, " Sir, I do not practise in that branch of the profession ! " and turned back into the little shop. It was Archibald Eglantine. But in the wreck of his fortunes, he still has his captain's uniform, and his grand cross of the order of the Elephant and Castle of Panama. THE RAVENS WING. 259 POSTSCEIPT. G. FITZ-BOODLE, ESQ., TO O. TORKE, ESQ. ZUM TRIEBISCHEN HOF, COBLENZ, JULY 10, 1S43. MY DEAB YOKKE, The story of the Ravenswing was written a long time since, and I never could account for the bad taste of the publishers of the metropolis who refused it an insertion in their vari- ous magazines. This fact would never have been alluded to but for the following circumstance : Only yesterday, as I was dining at this excellent hotel, I remarked a bald-headed gentleman in a blue coat and brass buttons, who looked like a colonel on half-pay, and by his side a lady and a little boy of twelve, whom the gentleman was cramming with an amazing quantity of cherries and cakes. A stout old dame in a wonderful cap and rib- bons was seated by the lady's side, and it was easy to see they were English, and I thought I had already made their acquaintance else- where. The younger of the ladies at last made a bow with an accompany- ing blush. " Surely," said I, " I have the honor of speaking to Mrs. Ravens- wing?" " Mrs. WOOLSEY, sir," said the gentleman; " my wife has long since left the stage" : and at this the old lady in the wonderful cap trod on my toes very severely, and nodded her head and all her ribbons in a most mysterious way. Presently the two ladies rose and left the table, the elder declaring that she heard the baby crying. " Woolsey, my dear, go with your mamma," said Mr. Woolsey, pat- ting the boy on the head : the young gentleman obeyed the command, carrying off a plate of macaroons with him. " Your son is a fine boy, sir," said I. " My step-son, sir," answered Mr. Woolsey ; and added in a louder voice, " I knew you, Mr. Fitz-Boodle, at once, but did not mention your name for fear of agitating my wife. She don't like to have the memory of old times renewed, sir ; her former husband, whom you knew, Captain Walker, made her very unhappy. He died in America, sir, of this, I fear" (pointing to the bottle), "and Mrs. W. quitted the stage a year before I quitted business. Are you going on to Weisbaden ? " They went off in their carriage that evening, the boy on the box making great efforts to blow out of the postilion's tassled horn. I am glad that poor Morgiana is happy at last, and hasten to in- form you of the fact : I am going to visit the old haunts of my youth at Pumpernickel. Adieu. Yours, G. F. B. MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. CHAPTER I. THE FIGHT AT SLAUGHTER HOUSE. Pr= AM very fond of reading V about battles, and have most of Marlborough's and Wel- lington's at my fingers' ends ; but the most tremendous combat I ever saw, and one that interests me to think of more than Malplaquet or Waterloo (which, by the way, has grown to be a downright nuisance, so much do men talk of it after din- ner, prating most disgust- ingly about "the Prussians coming up," and what not) I say the most tremen- dous combat ever known was that between Berry and Biggs the gown-boy, which commenced in a certain place called Middle Briars, situated in the midst of the cloisters that run along the side playground of Slaughter House School, near Smithfield, London. It was there, madam, that your humble servant had the honor of acquiring, after six years' labor, that immense fund of classical knowledge which in after life has been so exceedingly useful to him. The circumstances of the quarrel were these : Biggs, the gown-boy (a man who, in those days, I thought was at least seven feet high, and was quite thunderstruck to find in after life that he measured no more than five feet four), was what we called " second cock " of the school ; the first 261 262 MEN'S WIVES. cock was a great big, good-humored, lazy, fair-haired fellow, Old Hawkins by name, who, because he was large and good- humored, hurt nobody. Biggs, on the contrary, was a sad bully ; he had half a dozen fags, and beat them all unmer- cifully. Moreover, he had a little brother, a boarder in Potky's house, whom, as a matter of course, he hated and maltreated worse than any one else. Well, one day, because young Biggs had not brought his brother his hoops, or had not caught a ball at cricket, or for some other equally good reason, Biggs the elder so be- labored the poor little fellow, that Berry, who was saunter- ing by, and saw the dreadful blows which the elder brother was dealing to the younger with his hockey-stick, felt a compassion for the little fellow (perhaps he had a jealousy against Biggs, and wanted to try a few rounds with him, but that I can't vouch for) ; however, Berry, passing by, stopped and said, " Don't you think you have thrashed the boy enough, Biggs ? " He spoke this in a very civil tone, for he never would have thought of interfering rudely with the sacred privilege that an upper boy at a public school always has of beating a junior, especially when they happen to be brothers. The reply of Biggs, as might be expected, was to hit young Biggs with the hockey-stick twice as hard as before, until the little wretch howled with pain. " I suppose it's no business of yours, Berry," said Biggs, thumping away all the while, and laid on worse and worse. Until Berry (and, indeed, little Biggs) could bear it no longer, and the former, bouncing forward, wrenched the stick out of old Biggs's hands, and sent it whirling out of the cloister window, to the great wonder of a crowd of us small boys, who were looking on. Little boys always like to see a little companion of their own soundly beaten. " There ! " said Berry, looking into Biggs's face, as much as to say, " I've gone and done it " : and he added to the brother, " Scud away, you little thief ! I've saved you this time." " Stop, young Biggs ! " roared out his brother, after a pause ; " and I'll break every bone in your infernal, scoun- drelly skin ! " Young Biggs looked at Berry, then at his brother, then came at his brother's order, as if back to be beaten again, but lost heart and ran away as fast as his little legs could carry him. MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 263 "I'll do for him another time," said Biggs. "Here, under-boy, take my coat;" and we all began to gather round and formed a ring. " We had better wait till after school, Biggs," cried Berry, quite cool, but looking a little pale. " There are only five minutes now, and it will take you more than that to thrash me." Biggs upon this committed a great error; for he struck Berry slightly across the face with the back of his hand, saying, " You are in a funk." But this was a feeling which Frank Berry did not in the least entertain ; for, in reply to Biggs's back-hander, and as quick as thought, and with all his might and main pong ! he delivered a blow upon old Biggs's nose that made the claret spirt, and sent the second cock down to the ground as if he had been shot. He was up again, however, in a minute, his face white and gashed with blood, his eyes glaring, a ghastly spectacle ; and Berry, meanwhile, had taken his coat off, and by this time there were gathered in the cloisters, on all the win- dows, and upon each other's shoulders, one hundred and twenty young gentlemen at the very least, for the news had gone out through the playground of " a fight between Berry and Biggs." But Berry was quite right in his remark about the pro- priety of deferring the business, for at this minute Mr. Chip, the second master, came down the cloisters going into school, and grinned in his queer way as he saw the state of Biggs's face. " Holloa, Mr. Biggs," said he, " I suppose you have run against a finger-post." That was the regular joke with us at school, and you may be sure we all laughed heartily : as we always did when Mr. Chip made a joke, or anything like a joke. " You had better go to the pump, sir, and get yourself washed, and not let Dr. Buckle see you in that condition." So saying Mr. Chip disappeared to his duties in the under-school, whither all we little boys fol- lowed him. It was Wednesday, a half-holiday, as everybody knows, and boiled-beef day at Slaughter House. I was in the same boarding-house with Berry, and we all looked to see whether he ate a good dinner, just as one would examine a man who was going to be hanged. I recollected, in after- life, in Germany, seeing a friend who was going to fight a duel, eat five larks for his breakfast, and thought I had sel- dom witnessed greater courage. Berry ate moderately of 264 MEN'S WIVES. the boiled beef lolled child we used to call it at school, in our elegant, jocular way ; lie knew a great deal better than to load his stomach upon the eve of such a contest as was going to take place. Dinner was very soon over, and Mr. Chip, who had been all the while joking Berry, and pressing him to eat, called him up into his study, to the great disappointment of us all, for we thought he was going to prevent the fight ; but no such thing. The Rev. Edward Chip took Berry into his study, and poured him out two glasses of port wine, which he made him take with a biscuit, and patted him on the back, and went off. I have no doubt he was longing, like all of us, to see the battle ; but etiquette) you know, forbade. When we went out into the green, Old Hawkins was there the great Hawkins, the cock of the school. I have never seen the man since, but still think of him as of some- thing awful, gigantic, mysterious ; he who could thrash everybody, who could beat all the masters : how we longed for him to put in his hand and lick Buckle ! He was a dull boy, not very high in the school, and had all his exercises written for him. Buckle knew this, but respected him ; never called him up to read Greek plays ; passed over all his blunders, which were many ; let him go out of half- holidays into the town as he pleased : how should any man dare to stop him the great, calm, magnanimous, silent Strength ! They say he licked a Life-Guardsman ; I won- der whether it was Shaw, who killed all those Frenchmen ? no, it could not be Shaw, for he was dead au champ d'hon- neur ; but he would have licked Shaw if he had been alive. A bargeman I know he licked at Jack Eandall's in Slaugh- ter House Lane. Old Hawkins was too lazy to play at cricket ; he sauntered all day in the sunshine about the green, accompanied by little Tippins, who was in the sixth form, laughed and joked at Hawkins eternally, and was the person who wrote all his exercises. Instead of going into town this afternoon, Hawkins re- mained at Slaughter House, to see the great fight between the second and third cocks. The different masters of the school kept boarding-houses (such as Potky's, Chip's, Wicken's, Pinney's, and so on), and the playground, or " green " as it was called, although the only thing green about the place was the broken glass on the walls that separate Slaughter House from Wilder- ness Kow and Goswell Street (many a time have I seen MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 265 Mr. Pickwick look out of his window in that street, though we did not know him then) the playground, or green, was common to all. But if any stray boy from Potky's was found, for instance, in or entering into Chip's house, the most dreadful tortures were practised upon him : as I can answer in my own case. Fancy, then, our astonishment at seeing a little three-foot wretch, of the name of Wills, one of Hawkins's fags (they were both in Potky's), walk undismayed amongst us lions at Chip's house, as the " rich and rare " young lady did in Ireland. We were going to set upon him and devour or otherwise maltreat him, when he cried out in a little shrill, impertinent voice, " Tell Berry I want him ! " We all roared with laughter. Berry was in the sixth form, and Wills or any under-boy would as soon have thought of " wanting " him, as I should of wanting the Duke of Wellington. Little Wills looked round in an imperious kind of way. " Well," says he, stamping his foot, " do you hear ? Tell Berry that HAWKINS wants him ! " As for resisting the law of Hawkins, you might as soon think of resisting immortal Jove. Berry and Tolmash, who was to be his bottle-holder, made their appearance immediately, and walked out into the green where Haw- kins was waiting, and, with an irresistible audacity that only belonged to himself, in the face of nature and all the regulations of the place, was smoking a cigar. When Berry and Tolmash found him, the three began slowly pacing up and down in the sunshine, and we little boys watched them. Hawkins moved his arms and hands every now and then, and was evidently laying down the law about boxing. We saw his fists darting out every now and then with mysteri- ous swiftness, hitting one, two, quick as thought, as if in the face of an adversary ; now his left hand went up, as if guarding his own head, now his immense right fist dread- fully flapped the air, as if punishing his imaginary oppo- nent's miserable ribs. The conversation lasted for some ten minutes, about which time gown-boys' dinner was over, and we saw these youths in their black, horn-buttoned jackets and knee-breeches, issuing from their door in the cloisters. There were no hoops, no cricket-bats, as usual on a half-holiday. Who would have thought of play in ex- pectation of such tremendous sport as was in store for us ? 266 MEN'S WIVES. Towering among the gown-boys, of whom he was the head and the tyrant, leaning upon Bushby's arm, and fol- lowed at a little distance by many curious, pale, awe- stricken boys, dressed in his black silk stockings, which he always sported, and with a crimson bandanna tied round his waist, came BIGGS. His nose was swollen with the blow given before school, but his eyes flashed fire. He was laughing and sneering with Bushby, and evidently in- tended to make minced meat of Berry. The betting began pretty freely : the bets were against poor Berry. Five to three were offered in ginger-beer. I took six to four in raspberry open tarts. The upper boys carried the thing farther still : and I know for a fact that Swang's book amounted to four pound three (but he hedged a good deal), and Tittery lost seventeen shillings in a sin- gle bet to Pitts, who took the odds. As Biggs and his party arrived, I heard Hawkins say to Berry, " For heaven's sake, my boy, fib with your right, and mi?id his left hand! " Middle Briars was voted to be too confined a space for the combat, and it was agreed that it should take place behind the under-school in the shade, whither we all went. Hawkins, with his immense silver hunting-watch, kept the time : and water was brought from the pump close to Not- ley's, the pastry-cook's, who did not admire fisticuffs at all on half-holidays, for the fights kept the boys away from his shop. Gutley was the only fellow in the school who remained faithful to him, and he sat on the counter the great gormandizing brute ! eating tarts the whole day. This famous fight, as every Slaughter House man knows, lasted for two hours and twenty-nine minutes, by Haw- kins's immense watch. All this time the air resounded with cries of " Go it, Berry ! " " Go it, Biggs ! " " Pitch into him ! " " Give it him ! " and so on. Shall I describe the hundred and two rounds of the combat ? No ! It would occupy too much space, and the taste for such de- scriptions has passed away.* 1st round. Both the combatants fresh, and in prime order. The weight and inches somewhat on the gown-boy's side. * As it is very probable that many fair readers may not approve of the extremely forcible language in which the combat is depicted, I beg them to skip it and pass on to the next chapter, and to remember that it has been modelled on the style of the very best writers of the sporting papers. MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 267 Berry goes gallantly in, and delivers a clinker on the gown- boy's jaw. Biggs makes play with, his left. Berry down. 4th round. Claret drawn in profusion from the gown- boy's grog-shop. (He went down, and had his front tooth knocked out, but the blow cut Berry's knuckles a great deal.) 15th round. Chancery. Fibbing. Biggs makes dread- ful work with his left. Break away. Rally. Biggs down. Betting still six to four on the gown-boy. 20th round. The men both dreadfully punished. Berry somewhat shy of his adversary's left hand. 29th to 42d round. The Chipsite all this while breaks away from the gown-boy's left, and goes down on a knee. Six to four on the gown-boy, until the fortieth round, when the bets became equal. 102d and last round. For half an hour the men had stood up to each other, but were almost too weary to strike. The gown-boy's face hardly to be recognized, swollen and streaming with blood. The Chipsite in a similar condi- tion, and still more punished about his side from his enemy's left hand. Berry gives a blow at his adversary's face, and falls over him as he falls. The gown-boy can't come up to time. And thus ended the great fight of Berry and Biggs. And what, pray, has this horrid description of a battle and a parcel of school-boys to do with Men's Wives ? What has it to do with Men's Wives? A great deal more, madam, than you think for. Only read Chapter II., and you shall hear. CHAPTER II. THE COMBAT AT VERSAILLES. AFTERWARDS came to be Berry's fag, and, though beat- en by him daily, he allowed, of course, no one else to lay a hand upon me, and I got no more thrashing than was good for me. Thus an inti- macy grew up between us, and after he left Slaughter House and went into the dra- goons, the honest fellow did not forget his old friend, but actually made his ap- pearance one day in the playground in moustaches and a braided coat, and gave me a gold pencil-case and a couple of sovereigns. I blushed when I took them, but take them I did ; and I think the thing I almost best recollect in my life, is the sight of Berry getting behind an immense bay cab-horse, which was held by a correct little groom, and was waiting near the school in Slaughter House Square. He proposed, too, to have me to " Long's," where he was lodging for the time ; but this invitation was refused on my behalf by Dr. Buckle, who said, and possi- bly with correctness, that I should get little good by spending my holiday with such a scapegrace. Once afterwards he came to see me at Christ Church, and we made a show of writing to one another, and didn't, and always had a hearty mutual good-will ; and though we did not quite burst into tears on parting, were yet quite happy when occasion threw us together, and so almost lost sight of each other. I heard lately that Berry was mar- ried, and am rather ashamed to say, that I was not so curi- ous as even to ask the maiden name of his lady. 268 MR. AND MBS. FRANK BERRY. 269 Last summer I was at Paris, and had gone over to Ver- sailles to meet a party, one of which was a young lady to whom I was tenderly . . . But, never mind. The day was rainy, and the party did not keep its appointment; and after yawning through the interminable palace picture- galleries, and then making an attempt to smoke a cigar in the Palace garden for which crime I was nearly run through the body by a rascally sentinel I was driven, perforce, into the great bleak, lonely Place before the Palace, with its roads branching off to all the towns in the world, which Louis and Napoleon once intended to conquer, and there enjoyed my favorite pursuit at leisure, and was meditating whether I should go back to " Vef our's " for din- ner, or patronize my friend M. Duboux of the " Hotel des Reservoirs," who gives not only a good dinner, but as dear a one as heart can desire. I was, I say, meditating these things, when a carriage passed by. It was a smart, low calash, with a pair of bay horses and a postilion in a drab jacket, that twinkled with innumerable buttons, and I was too much occupied in admiring the build of the machine, and the extreme tightness of the fellow's inexpressibles, to look at the personages within the carriage, when the gentleman roared out " Fitz ! " and the postilion pulled up, and the lady gave a shrill scream, and a little black-muz- zled spaniel began barking and yelling with all his might, and a man with moustaches jumped out of the vehicle, and began shaking me by the hand. " Drive home, John," said the gentleman : " I'll be with you, my love, in an instant it's an old friend. Fitz, let me present you to Mrs. Berry." The lady made an exceedingly gentle inclination of her black velvet bonnet, and said, " Pray, my love, remember that it is just dinner-time. However, never mind me." And with another slight toss and a nod to the postilion, that individual's white leather breeches began to jump up and down again in the saddle, and the carriage disappeared, leaving me shaking my old friend Berry by the hand. He had long quitted the army, but still wore his military beard, which gave to his fair pink face a fierce and lion- like look. He was extraordinarily glad to see me, as only men are glad who live in a small town, or in dull company. There is no destroyer of friendships like London, where a man has no time to think of his neighbor, and has far too many friends to care for them. He told me in a breath of 270 MEN'S WIVES. his marriage, and how happy he was, and straight insisted that I must come home to dinner, and see more of Angelica, who had invited me herself didn't I hear her ? " Mrs. Berry asked you, Frank ; but I certainly did not hear her ask me ! " " She would not have mentioned the dinner but that she meant me to ask you. I know she did," cried Frank Berry. "And, besides hang it I'm master of the house. So come you shall. No ceremony, old boy one or two friends snug family party and we'll talk of old times over a bottle of claret." There did not seem to me to be the slightest objection to this arrangement, except that my boots were muddy, and my coat of the morning sort. But as it was quite impossible to go to Paris and back again in a quarter of an hour, and as a man may dine with perfect comfort to himself in a frock-coat, it did not occur to me to be particularly squeam- ish, or to decline an old friend's invitation upon a pretext so trivial. Accordingly we walked to a small house in the Avenue de Paris, and were admitted first into a small garden orna- mented by a grotto, a fountain, and several nymphs in plas- ter-of-Paris, then up a mouldy old steep stair into a hall, where a statue of Cupid and another of Venus welcomed us with their eternal simper; then through a salle-a-manger, where covers were laid for six ; and finally to a little saloon, where Fido the dog began to howl furiously according to his wont. It was one of the old pavilions that had been built for a pleasure-house in the gay days of Versailles, ornamented with abundance of damp Cupids and cracked gilt cornices, and old mirrors let into the walls, and gilded once, but now painted a dingy French white. The long low windows looked into the court, where the fountain played its cease- less dribble, surrounded by numerous rank creepers and weedy flowers, but in the midst of which the statues stood with their bases quite moist and green. I hate fountains and statues in dark, confined places : that cheerless, endless plashing of water is the most inhos- pitable sound ever heard. The stiff grin of those French statues, or ogling Can ova Graces, is by no means more happy, I think, than the smile of a skeleton, and not so nat- ural. Those little pavilions in which the old roues sported were never meant to be seen by daylight, depend on't. They MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 271 were lighted up with a hundred wax-candles, and the little fountain yonder was meant only to cool their claret. And so, my first impression of Berry's place of abode was rather a dismal one. However, I heard him in the salle-a-manger drawing the corks, which went off with a cloop, and that consoled me. As for the furniture of the rooms appertaining to the Berrys, there was a harp in a leather case, and a piano, and a flute-box, and a huge tambour with a Saracen's nose just begun, and likewise on the table a multiplicity of those little gilt books, half sentimental and half religious, which the wants of the age and of our young ladies have produced in such numbers of late. I quarrel with no lady's taste in that way ; but heigh-ho ! I had rather that Mrs. Fitz- Boodle should read " Humphrey Clinker ! " Beside these works, there was a " Peerage " of course. What genteel family was ever without one ? I was making for the door to see Frank drawing the corks, and was bounced at by the amiable little black-muzzled spaniel, who fastened his teeth in my pantaloons, and re- ceived a polite kick in consequence, which sent him howl- ing to the other end of the room, and the animal was just in the act of performing that feat of agility, when the door 272 MEN'S WIVES. opened and madame made her appearance. Frank came behind her, peering over her shoulder with rather an anxious look. Mrs. Berry is an exceedingly white and lean person. She has thick eyebrows, which meet rather dangerously over her nose, which is Grecian, and a small mouth with no lips a sort of feeble pucker in the face as it were. Under her eye- brows are a pair of enormous eyes, which she is in the habit of turning constantly ceiling-wards. Her hair is rather scarce, and worn in bandeaux, and she commonly mounts a sprig of laurel, or a dark flower or two, which, with the shani tow 1 believe that is the name of the knob of arti- ficial hair that many ladies sport gives her a rigid and classical look. She is dressed in black, and has invariably the neatest of silk stockings and shoes ; for forsooth her foot is a fine one, and she always sits with it before her, looking at it, stamping it, and admiring it a great deal. " Fido," she says to her spaniel, " you have almost crushed my poor foot " ; or, " Frank," to her husband, " bring me a footstool " ; or " I suffer so from cold in the feet," and so forth ; but be the conversation what it will, she is always sure to put her foot into it. She invariably wears on her neck the miniature of her late father, Sir George Catacomb, apothecar} 7 to George III. ; and she thinks those two men the greatest the world ever saw. She was born in Baker Street, Portman Square, and that is saying almost enough of her. She is as long, as genteel, and as dreary, as that deadly-lively place, and sports, by way of ornament, her papa's hatchment, as it were, as every tenth Baker Street house has taught her. "What induced such a jolly fellow as Frank Berry to marry Miss Angelica Catacomb no one can tell. He met her, he says, at a ball at Hampton Court, where his regi- ment was quartered, and where, to this day, lives "her aunt, Lady Pash. " She alludes perpetually in conversa- tion to that celebrated lady ; and if you look in the " Bar- onetage " to the pedigree of the Pash family, you may see manuscript notes by Mrs. Frank Berry, relative to them and herself. Thus, when you see in print that Sir John Pash married Angelica, daughter of Graves Catacomb, in a neat hand you find written, and sister of the late Sir George Catacomb, of Baker Street, Portman Square: "A. B." fol- lows of course. It is a wonder how fond ladies are of writ- ing in books and signing their charming initials ! Mrs. MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 273 Berry's before-mentioned little gilt books are scored with pencil-marks, or occasionally at the margin with a ! note of interjection, or the words "Too true, A. B.," and so on. Much may be learned with regard to lovely woman by a look at the book she reads in ; and I had gained no incon- siderable knowledge of Mrs. Berry by the ten minutes spent in the drawing-room, while she was at her toilet in the ad- joining bed-chamber. "You have often heard me talk of George Fitz," says Berry, with an appealing look to madam e. " Very often," answered his lady, in a tone which clearly meant " a great deal too much." " Pray, sir," continued she, looking at my boots with all her might, " are we to have your company at dinner ? " " Of course you are, my dear ; what else do you think he came for ? You would not have the man go back to Paris to get his evening coat, would you ? " " At least, my love, I hope you will go and put on yours, and change those muddy boots. Lady Pash will be here in five minutes, and you know Dobus is as punctual as clock- work." Then turning to me with a sort of apology that was as consoling as a box on the ear, " We have some friends at dinner, sir, who are rather particular persons ; but I am sure when they hear that you only came on a sudden invita- tion, they will excuse your morning dress. Bah, what a smell of smoke ! " With this speech rnadame placed herself majestically on a sofa, put out her foot, called Fido, and relapsed into an icy silence. Frank had long since evacuated the premises, with a rueful look at his wife, but never daring to cast a glance at me. I saw the whole business at once ; here was this lion of a fellow tamed down by a she Van Amburgh, and fetching and carrying at her orders a great deal more obediently than her little yowling, black-muzzled darling of a Fido. I am not, however, to be tamed so easily, and was deter- mined in this instance not to be in the least disconcerted, or to show the smallest sign of ill-humor : so to renouer the con- versation, I began about Lady Pash. " I heard you mention the name of Pash, I think ? " said I. " I know a lady of that name, and a very ugly one it is too." " It is most probably not the same person," answered Mrs. Berry, with a look which intimated that a fellow like 18 274 MEN'S WIVES. me could never have had the honor to know so exalted a person. " I mean old Lady Pash of Hampton Court. Fat woman fair, ain't she ? and wears an amethyst in her fore- head, has one eye, a blond wig, and dresses in light green ? " " Lady Pash, sir, is MY AUNT," answered Mrs. Berry (not altogether displeased, although she expected money from the old lady ; but you know we love to hear our friends abused when it can be safely done). " Oh, indeed ! she was a daughter of old Catacomb's of Windsor, I remember, the undertaker. They called her husband Calipash, and her ladyship Pishpash. So you see, madam, that I know the whole family ! " " Mr. Fitz-Simons ! " exclaimed Mrs. Berry, rising, " I am not accustomed to hear nicknames applied to myself and my family ; and must beg you, when you honor us with your company, to spare our feelings as much as possible. Mr. Catacomb had the confidence of his SOVEREIGN, sir, and Sir John Pash was of Charles II.'s creation. The one was my uncle, sir, the other my grandfather ! " "My dear madam, I am extremely sorry, and most sin- cerely apologize for my inadvertence. But you owe me an apology too: my name is not Fitz-Simons, but Fitz- Boodle." " What ! of Boodle Hall my husband's old friend ; of Charles I.'s creation ? My dear sir, I beg you a thousand pardons, and am delighted to welcome a person of whom I have heard Frank say so much. Frank ! " (to Berry, who soon entered in very glossy boots and a white waistcoat), " do you know, darling, I mistook Mr. Fitz-Boodle for Mr. Fitz-Simons that horrid Irish horse-dealing person ; and I never, never, never can pardon myself for being so rude to him." The big eyes here assumed an expression that was in- tended to kill me outright with kindness ; from being calm, still, reserved, Angelica suddenly became gay, smiling, con- fidential, and folatre. She told me she had heard I was a sad creature, and that she intended to reform me, and that I must come and see Frank a great deal. Now, although Mr. Fitz-Simons, for whom I was mis- taken, is as low a fellow as ever came out of Dublin, and, having been a captain in somebody's army, is now a blackleg and horse-dealer by profession ; yet if I had brought him MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 275 home to Mrs. Fitz-Boodle to dinner, I should have liked far better that that imaginary lady should have received him with decent civility, and not insulted the stranger within her husband's gates. And although it was delightful to be received so cordially when the mistake was discov- ered, yet I found that all Berry's old acquaintances were by no means so warmly welcomed ; for another old school- chum presently made his appearance, who was treated in a very different manner. This was no other than poor Jack Butts, who is a sort of small artist and picture-dealer by profession, and was a day-boy at Slaughter House when we were there, and very serviceable in bringing in sausages, pots of pickles, and other articles of merchandise, which we could not other- wise procure. The poor fellow has been employed, seem- ingly, in the same office of f etcher and carrier ever since ; and occupied that post for Mrs. Berry. It was, "Mr. Butts, have you finished that drawing for Lady Pash's album ? " and Butts produced it ; and, " Did you match the silk for me at Delille's ? " and there was the silk, bought, no doubt, with the poor fellow's last five francs ; and " Did you go to the furniture-man in the Hue St. Jacques ; and bring the canary-seed, and call about my shawl at that odious, dawdling Madame Fichet's ; and have you brought the guitar-strings ? " Butts hadn't brought the guitar-strings ; and thereupon Mrs. Berry's countenance assumed the same terrible ex- pression which I had formerly remarked in it, and which made me tremble for Berry. " My dear Angelica," though said he with some spirit, "Jack Butts isn't a baggage-wagon, nor a Jack-of-all- trades; you make him paint pictures for your women's albums, and look after your upholsterer, and your canary- bird, and your milliners, and turn rusty because he forgets your last message." "I did not turn rusty, Frank, as you call it elegantly. I'm very much obliged to Mr. Butts, for performing my com- missions very much obliged. And as for not paying for the pictures to which you so kindly allude, Frank, I should never have thought of offering payment for so paltry a service ; but I'm sure I shall be happy to pay if Mr. Butts will send me in his bill." "By Jove, Angelica, this is too much!" bounced out Berry; but the little matrimonial squabble was abruptly 276 MEN'S WIVES. ended, by Berry's French man flinging open the door and announcing MILADI PASH and Doctor Dobus, which two personages made their appearance. The person of old Pash has been already parenthetically described. But quite different from her dismal niece in temperament, she is as jolly an old widow as ever wore weeds. She was attached somehow to the court, and has a multiplicity of stories about the princesses and the old king, to which Mrs. Berry never fails to call your attention in her grave, important way. Lady Pash has ridden many a time to the Windsor hounds ; she made her husband become a member of the Four-in-hand Club, and has numberless stories about Sir Godfrey Webster, Sir John Lade, and the old heroes of those times. She has lent a rouleau to Dick Sheridan, and remembers Lord Byron when he was a sulky, slim young lad. She says Charles Fox was the pleasantest fellow she ever met with, and has not the slightest objection to inform you that one of the princes was very much in love with her. Yet somehow she is only fifty-two years old, and I have never been able to understand her calculation. One day or other before her eye went out, and before those pearly teeth of hers were stuck to her gums by gold, she must have been a pretty- looking body enough. Yet in spite of the latter incon- venience, she eats and drinks too much every day, and tosses off a glass of Maraschino with a trembling pudgy hand, every finger of which twinkles with a dozen, at least, of old rings. She has a story about every one of those rings, and a stupid one too. But there is always something pleasant, I think, in stupid family stories : they are good-hearted people who tell them. As for Mrs. Muchit, nothing need be said of her : she is Pash's companion, she has lived with Lady Pash since the peace. Nor does my lady take any more notice of her than of the dust of the earth. She calls her "poor Muchit," and considers her a half-witted creature. Mrs. Berry hates her cordially, and thinks she is a designing toad-eater, who has formed a conspiracy to rob her of her aunt's fortune. She never spoke a word to poor Muchit during the whole of dinner, or offered to help her to any- thing on the table. In respect to Dobus, he is an old Peninsular man, as you are made to know before you have been very long in his company; and, like most army surgeons, is a great deal MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 277 more military in his looks and conversation than the combatant part of the forces. He has adopted the sham- Duke-of-Wellingtou air, which is by no means uncommon in veterans; and though one of the easiest and softest fellows in existence, speaks slowly and briefly, and raps out an oath or two occasionally, as it is said a certain great captain does. Beside the above, we sat down to table with Captain Goff, late of the Highlanders ; the Eev. Lemuel Whey, who preaches at St. Germains; little Cutler, and the Frenchman, who always will be at English parties on the Continent, and who, after making some frightful efforts to speak English, subsides and is heard of no more. Young married ladies and heads of families generally have him for the purpose of waltzing, and in return he informs his friends of the club or the cafe that he has made the conquest of a charmante Anglaise. Listen to me, all family men who read this ! and never let an unmarried Frenchman into your doors. This lecture alone is worth the price of the book. It is not that they do any harm in one case out of a thousand, heaven forbid ! but they mean harm. They look on our Susannahs with unholy, dishonest eyes. Harken to two of the grinning rogues chattering together as they clink over the asphalte of the Boulevard with lacquered boots, and plastered hair, and waxed mous- taches, and turned-down shirt-collars, and stays, and goggling eyes, and hear how they talk of a good, simple, giddy, vain, dull Baker Street creature, and canvass her points, and show her letters, and insinuate never mind, but I tell you my soul grows angry when I think of the same ; and I can't hear of an Englishwoman marrying a Frenchman, without feeling a sort of shame and pity for her.* To return to the guests. The Rev. Lemuel Whey is a tea-party man, with a curl on his forehead and a scented pocket-handkerchief. He ties his white neck-cloth to a wonder, and I believe sleeps in it. He brings his flute with him ; and prefers Handel, of course : but he has one or two pet profane songs of the sentimental kind, and will * Every person who has lived abroad, can, of course, point out a score of honorable exceptions to the case above hinted at, and knows many such unions in which it is the Frenchman who honors the English lady by marrying her. But it must be remembered that marrying in France means commonly fortune-hunting : and as for the respect in which marriage is held in France, let all the French novels in M. Rolandi's library be perused by those who wish to come to a decision upon the question. 278 MEN'S WIVES. occasionally lift up his little pipe in a glee. He does not dance, but the honest fellow would give the world to do it ; and he leaves his clogs in the passage, though it is a wonder he wears them, for in the muddiest weather he never has a speck on his foot. He was at St. John's College, Cambridge, and was rather gay for a term or two, he says. He is, in a word, full of the milk-and-water of human kindness, and his family lives near Hackney. As for Goff, he has a huge, shining, bald forehead, and immense bristling, Indian-red whiskers. He wears white wash-leather gloves, drinks fairly, likes a rubber, and has a story for after dinner, beginning, " Doctor, ye racklackt Sandy M'Lellan, who joined us in the West Indies. Wai, sir," &c. These and little Cutler made up the party. Xow it may not have struck all readers, but any sharp fellow conversant with writing must have found out long ago, that if there had been something exceedingly interest- ing to narrate with regard to this dinner at Frank Berry's I should have come out with it a couple of pages since, nor have kept the public looking for so long a time at the dish- covers and ornaments of the table. But the simple fact must now be told, that there was nothing of the slightest importance occurred at this repast, except that it gave me an opportunity of studying Mrs. Berry in many different ways ; and, in spite of the extreme com- plaisance which she now showed me, of forming, I am sorry to say, a most unfavorable opinion of that fair lady. Truth to tell, I would much rather she should have been civil to Mrs. Muchit, than outrageously complimentary to your humble servant ; and, as she professed not to know what on earth there was for dinner, would it not have been much more natural for her not to frown, and bob, and wink, and point, and pinch her lips as often as Monsieur Anatole, her French domestic, not knowing the ways of English dinner- tables, placed anything out of its due order ? The allusions to Boodle Hall were innumerable, and I don't know any greater bore than to be obliged to talk of a place which belongs to one's elder brother. Many questions were like- wise asked about the dowager and her Scotch relatives, the Plumduffs, about whom Lady Pash knew a great deal, hav- ing seen them at court and at Lord Melville's. Of course she had seen them at court and at Lord Melville's, as she might have seen thousands of Scotchmen besides ; but what mattered it to me, who care not a jot for old Lady Fitz- MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 279 Boodle ? " When you write, you'll say you met an old friend of her ladyship's," says Mrs. Berry, and I faithfully promised I would when I wrote ; but if the New Post Office paid us for writing letters (as very possibly it will soon), I could not be bribed to send a line to old Lady Fitz. In a word I found that Berry, like many simple fellows before him, had made choice of an imperious, ill-humored, and underbred female for a wife, and could see with half an eye that he was a great deal too much her slave. The struggle was not over yet, however. Witness that little encounter before dinner ; and once or twice the hon- est fellow replied rather smartly during the repast, taking especial care to atone as much as possible for his wife's in- attention to Jack and Mrs. Muchit, by particular attention to those personages, whom he helped to everything round about and pressed perpetually to champagne ; he drank but little himself, for his amiable wife's eye was constantly fixed on him. Just at the conclusion of the dessert, madame, who had bonded Berry during dinner-time, became particularly gra- cious to her lord and master, and tenderly asked me & I did not think the French custom was a good one, of men leaving table with the ladies. " Upon my word, ma'am," says I, " I think it's a most abominable practice." "And so do I," says Cutler. " A most abominable practice ! Do you hear that ? " cries Berry, laughing and filling his glass. " I'm sure, Frank, when we are alone you always come to the drawing-room," replies the lady, sharply. " Oh, yes ! when we're alone, darling," says Berry, blush- ing; "but now we're not alone ha, ha! Anatole, du Bordeaux ! " " I'm sure they sat after the ladies at Carlton House ; didn't they, Lady Pash ? " says Dobus, who likes his glass. " That they did ! " says my lady, giving him a jolly nod. " I racklackt," exclaims Captain Goff, " when I was in the Mauritius, that Mestress MacWhirter, who commanded the Saxty-Sackond, used to say, 'Mac, if ye want to get lively, ye'll not stop for more than two hours after the led- dies have laft ye : if ye want to get drunk, ye'll just dine at the mass.' So ye see, Mestress Barry, what was Mac's 280 MEN'S WIVES. allowance haw, haw ! Mester "Whey, I'll trouble ye for the o-lives." But although we were in a clear majority, that indomita- ble woman, Mrs. Berry, determined to make us all as un- easy as possible, and would take the votes all round. Poor Jack, of course, sided with her, and Whey said he loved a cup of tea and a little music better than all the wine of Bordeaux. As for the Frenchman, when Mrs. Berry said, " And what do you think, M. le Vicomte ? " " Vat you speak ? " said M. de Blagueval, breaking silence for the first time during two hours ; " yase eh ? to me you speak ? " " Apry deeny, aimy-voo ally avec les dam ?" " Comment avec les dames ? " "Ally avec les dam com a Parry, ou resty avec les Messeiv com on Onglyterre ? " " Ah, madame ! vous me le demandez ? " cries the little wretch, starting up in a theatrical way, and putting out his hand, which Mrs. Berry took, and with this the ladies left the room. Old Lady Pash trotted after her niece with her hand in Whey's, very much wondering at such prac- tices, which were not in the least in vogue in the reign of George III. Mrs. Berry cast a glance of triumph at her husband, at the defection ; and Berry was evidently annoyed that three- eighths of his male forces had left him. But fancy our delight and astonishment when in a min- ute they all three came back again ; the Frenchman look- ing entirely astonished, and the parson and the painter both very queer. The fact is, old downright Lady Pash, who had never been in Paris in her life before, and had no no- tion of being deprived of her usual hour's respite and nap, said at once to Mrs. Berry, " My dear Angelica, you're surely not going to keep these three men here ? Send them back to the dining-room, for I've a thousand things to say to you." And Angelica, who expects to inherit her aunt's property, of course did as she was bid ; on which the old lady fell into an easy-chair, and fell asleep immedi- ately, so soon, that is, as the shout caused by the reap- pearance of the three gentlemen in the dining-room had subsided. I had meanwhile had some private conversation with lit- tle Cutler regarding the character of Mrs. Berry. " She's a regular screw," whispered he ; "a regular Tartar. Berry MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 281 shows fight, though, sometimes, and I've known him have his own way for a week together. After dinner he is his own master, and hers when he has had his share of wine : and that's why she will never allow him to drink any." Was it a wicked or was it a noble and honorable thought which came to us both at the same minute, to rescue Berry from his captivity ? The ladies, of course, will give their verdict according to their gentle natures ; but I know what men of courage will think, and by their jovial judgment will abide. We received, then, the three lost sheep back into our in- nocent fold again with the most joyous shouting and cheer- ing. We made Berry (who was, in truth, nothing loath) order up I don't know how much more claret. We obliged the Frenchman to drink malgre lui, and in the course of a short time we saw poor Whey in such a state of excitement, that he actually volunteered to sing a song, which he said he had heard at some very gay supper-party at Cambridge, and which begins : " A pye sat on a pear-tree, A pye sat on a pear-tree, A pye sat on a pear-tree, Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, heigh-ho!" Fancy Mrs. Berry's face as she looked in, in the midst of that Bacchanalian ditty, when she saw no less a person than the Rev. Lemuel Whey carolling it ! " Is it you, my dear ? " cries Berry, as brave now as any Petruchio. "Come in, and sit down, and hear Whey's song." " Lady Pash is asleep, Frank," said she. " Well, darling ! that's the very reason. Give Mrs. Berry a glass, Jack, will you ? " " Would you wake your aunt, sir ? " hissed out madame. " Never mind me, love ! I'm awake and like it ! " cried the venerable Lady Pash from the salon. " Sing away, gen- tlemen ! " At which we all set up an audacious cheer; and Mrs. Berry flounced back to the drawing-room, but did not leave the door open, that her aunt might hear our melodies. Berry had by this time arrived at that confidential state to which a third bottle always brings the well-regulated mind ; and he made a clean confession to Cutler and my- self of his numerous matrimonial annoyances. He was 282 MEN'S WIVES. not allowed to dine out, he said, and but seldom to ask his friends to meet him at home. He never dared smoke a cigar for the life of him, not even in the stables. He spent the mornings dawdling in eternal shops, the evenings at endless tea-parties, or in reading poems or missionery tracts to his wife. He was compelled to take physic whenever she thought he looked a little pale, to change his shoes and stockings whenever he came in from a walk. " Look here," said he, opening his chest, and shaking his fist at Dobus ; " look what Angelica and that infernal Dobus have brought me to." I thought it might be a flannel waistcoat into which madame had forced him : but it was worse : I give you my word of honor, it was a pitch-plaster ! We all roared at this, and the doctor as loud as any one ; but he vowed that he had no hand in the pitch-plaster. It was a favorite family remedy of the late apothecary, Sir George Catacomb, and had been put on by Mrs. Berry's own fair hands. When Anatole came in with coffee, Berry was in such high courage, that he told him to go to the deuce with it ; and we never caught sight of Lady Pash more, except when, muffled up to the nose, she passed through the salle-a-man- ger to go to her carriage, in which Dobus and the parson were likewise to be transported to Paris. " Be a man, Prank," says she, "and hold your own" for the good old lady had taken her nephew's part in the matrimonial business " and you, Mr. Pitz-Boodle, come and see him often. You're a good fellow, take old one-eyed Callipash's word for it. Shall I take you to Paris ?" Dear, kind Angelica, she had told her aunt all I said ! "Don't go, George," says Berry, squeezing me by the hand. So I said I was going to sleep at Versailles that night; but if she would give a convoy to Jack Butts, it would be conferring a great obligation on him ; with which favor the old lady accordingly complied, saying to him with great coolness, " Get up and sit with John in the rumble, Mr. What-d'ye-call-'im." The fact is, the good old soul despises an artist as much as she does a tailor. Jack tripped to his place very meekly ; and " Remember Saturday," cried the doctor ; and " Don't forget Thursday," exclaimed the divine, "a bachelor's party, you know." And so the cavalcade drove thundering down the gloomy old Avenue de Paris. MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 283 The Frenchman, I forgot to say, had gone away exceed- ingly ill long before ; and the reminiscences of " Thursday " and " Saturday " evoked by Dobus and Whey, were, to tell the truth, parts of our conspiracy : for in the heat of Ber- ry's courage, we had made him promise to dine with us all round en gar$on ; with all except Captain Goff, who " rack- lacted " that he was engaged every day for the next three weeks ; as indeed he is, to a thirty-sous ordinary which the gallant officer frequents when not invited elsewhere. Cutler and I then were the last on the field ; and though we were for moving away, Berry, whose vigor had, if possi- ble, been excited by the bustle and colloquy in the night air, insisted upon dragging us back again, and actually pro- posed a grill for supper. We found in the salle-a-manger a strong smell of an extin- guished lamp, and Mrs. Berry was snuffing out the caudles on the sideboard. " Hullo, my dear ! " shouts Berry : " easily, if you please ! we've not done yet ! " " Not done yet, Mr. Berry ! " groans the lady, in a hol- low, sepulchral tone. " No, Mrs. B., not done yet. We are going to have some supper, ain't we, George ? " "I think it's quite time to go home," said Mr. Fitz- Boodle (who, to say the truth, began to tremble himself). " I think it is, sir ; you are quite right, sir ; you will par- don me, gentlemen, I have a bad headache, and will re- tire." " Good-night, my dear ! " said that audacious Berry. "Anatole, tell the cook to broil a fowl and bring some wine." If the loving couple had been alone, or if Cutler had not been an attache to the embassy, before whom she was afraid of making herself ridiculous, I am confident that Mrs. Berry would have fainted away on the spot ; and that all Berry's courage would have tumbled down lifeless by the side of her. So she only gave a martyrized look, and left the room ; and while we partook of the very unneces- sary repast, was good enough to sing some hymn tunes to an exceedingly slow movement in the next room, intimat- ing that she was awake, and that, though suffering, she found her consolations in religion. These melodies did not in the least add to our friend's courage. The devilled fowl had, somehow, no devil in it. 284 MEN'S WIVES. The champagne in the glasses looked exceedingly flat and blue. The fact is, that Cutler and I were now both in a state of dire consternation, and soon made a move for our hats, and, lighting each a cigar in the hall, made across the little green where the Cupids and Nymphs were listening to the dribbling fountain in the dark. " I'm hanged if I don't have a cigar too ! " says Berry, rushing after us ; and accordingly putting in his pocket a key about the size of a shovel, which hung by the little handle of the outer grille, forth he sallied, and joined us in our fumigation. He stayed with us a couple of hours, and returned home- wards in perfect good spirits, having given me his word of honor he would dine with us the next day. He put in his immense key into the grille, and unlocked it ; but the gate would not open : it was bolted within. He began to make a furious jangling and ringing at the bell ; and in oaths, both French and English, called upon the recalcitrant Anatole. After much tolling of the bell, a light came cutting across the crevices of the inner door ; it was thrown open, and a figure appeared with a lamp, a tall, slim figure of a woman, clothed in white from head to foot. It was Mrs. Berry, and when Cutler and I saw her, we both ran away as fast as our legs could carry us. Berry, at this, shrieked with a wild laughter. " Remem- ber to-morrow, old boys," shouted he, " six o'clock " ; and we were a quarter of a mile off when the gate closed, and the little mansion of the Avenue de Paris was once more quiet and dark. The next afternoon, as we were playing at billiards, Cut- ler saw Mrs. Berry drive by in her carriage ; and as soon as rather a long rubber was over, I thought I would go and look for our poor friend, and so went down to the Pavilion. Every door was open, as the wont is in France, and I walked in unannounced, and saw this : He was playing a duet with her on the flute. She had been out but for half an hour, after not speaking all the morning ; and having seen Cutler at the billiard-room win- dow, and suspecting we might take advantage of her absence, she had suddenly returned home again, and had flung herself, weeping, into her Frank's arms, and said she could not bear to leave him in anger. And so, after MR. AND MRS. FRANK BERRY. 285 sitting for a little while sobbing on his knee, she had for- gotten and forgiven everything ! The dear angel ! I met poor Frank in Bond Street only yesterday; but he crossed over to the other side of the way. He had on goloshes, and is grown very fat and pale. He has shaved off his moustaches, and, instead, wears a respirator. He has taken his name off all his clubs, and lives very grimly in Baker Street. Well, ladies, no doubt you say he is right, and what are the odds, so long as you are happy ? DENNIS HAGGARTY'S WIFE. HERE -was an odious Irish- woman and her daughter who used to frequent the " Royal Hotel" at Leamington some years ago, and who went by the name of Mrs. Major Gam. Gam had been a distinguished officer in his Majesty's ser- vice, whom nothing but death and his own amiable wife could overcome. The widow mourned her husband in the most becoming bombazine she could muster, and had at least half an inch of lampblack round the immense visiting- tickets which she left at the houses of the nobility and gentry, her friends. Some of us, I am sorry to say, used to call her Mrs. Major Gammon; for if the worthy widow had a propensity, it was to talk largely of herself and family (of her own family, for she held her husband's very cheap), and of the wonders of her paternal mansion, Molloyville, county of Mayo. She was of the Molloys of that county ; and though I never heard of the family before, I have little doubt, from what Mrs. Major Gam stated, that they were the most ancient and illustrious family of that part of Ireland. I remember there came down to see his aunt a young fel- low with huge red whiskers and tight nankeens, a green coat and an awful breastpin, who, after two days' stay at the Spa, proposed marriage to Miss S , or, in default, a 287 288 MEN'S WIVES. duel with her father ; and who drove a flash curricle with a bay and a gray, and who was presented with much pride by Mrs. Gam as Castlereagh Molloy of Molloyville. We all agreed that he was the most insufferable snob of the whole season, and were delighted when a bailiff came down in search of him. Well, this is all I know personally of the Molloyville family ; but at the house if you met the Widow Gam, and talked on any subject in life, you were sure to hear of it. If you asked her to have pease at dinner, she would say, " Oh, sir, after the pease at Molloyville, I really don't care for any others, do I, dearest Jemima? We always had a dish in the month of June, when my father gave his head gardener a guinea (we had three at Molloyville), and sent him with his compliments and a quart of pease to our neigh- bor, dear Lord Marrowfat. What a sweet place Marrowfat Park is ! isn't it, Jemima ? " If a carriage passed by the window, Mrs. Major Gammon would be sure to tell you that there were three carriages at Molloyville, " the barouche, the chawiot, and the covered cyar." In the same manner she would favor you with the number and the names of the footmen of the establishment ; and on a visit to Warwick Castle (for this bustling woman made one in every party of pleasure that was formed from the hotel), she gave us to understand that the great walk by the river was altogether inferior to the principal avenue of Molloy- ville Park. I should not have been able to tell so much about Mrs. Gam and her daughter, but that, between our- selves, I was particularly sweet upon a young lady at the time, whose papa lived at the " Royal," and was under the care of Dr. Jephson. The Jemima appealed to by Mrs. Gam in the above sen- tence was, of course, her daughter, apostrophized by her mother, " Jemima, my soul's darling ! " or " Jemima, my blessed child ! " or " Jemima, my own love ! " The sacri- fices that Mrs. Gain had made for that daughter were, she said, astonishing. The money she had spent in masters upon her, the illnesses through which she had nursed her, the ineffable love the mother bore her, were only known to heaven, Mrs. Gam said. They used to come into the room with their arms round each other's waists: at dinner be- tween the courses the mother would sit with one hand locked in her daughter's ; and if only two or three young men were present at the time, would be pretty sure to kiss DENNIS HAGGARTY'S WIFE. 289 her Jemima more than once during the time whilst the bohea was poured out. As for Miss Gam, if she was not handsome, candor for- bids me to say she was ugly. She was neither one nor t'other. She was a person who wore ringlets and a band round her forehead ; she knew four songs, which became rather tedious at the end of a couple of months' acquaint- ance ; she had excessively bare shoulders ; she inclined to wear numbers of cheap ornaments, rings, brooches, fer- ronieres, smelling-bottles, and was always, we thought, very smartly dressed : though old Mrs. Lynx hinted that her gowns and her mother's were turned over and over again, and that her eyes were almost put out by darning stockings. These eyes Miss Gam had very large, though rather red and weak, and used to roll them about at every eligible unmarried man in the place. But though the widow sub- scribed to all the balls, though she hired a fly to go to the meet of the hounds, though she was constant at church, and Jemima sang louder than any person there except the clerk, and though, probably, any person who made her a happy husband would be invited down to enjoy the three footmen, gardeners, and carriages at Molloyville, yet no English gentleman was found sufficiently audacious to propose. Old Lynx used to say that the pair had been at Tunbridge, Harrogate, Brighton, Kamsgate, Cheltenham, for this eight years past ; where they had met, it seemed, with no better fortune. Indeed, the widow looked rather high for her blessed child : and as she looked with the contempt which no small number of Irish people feel upon all persons who get their bread by labor or commerce ; and as she was a person whose energetic manners, costume, and brogue were not much to the taste of quiet English country gentlemen, Jemima sweet, spotless flower still remained on her hands, a thought withered, perhaps, and seedy. Now, at this time, the 120th Kegiment was quartered at Weedon Barracks, and with the corps was a certain Assis- tant-Surgeon Haggarty, a large, lean, tough, raw-boned man, with big hands, knock-knees, and carroty whiskers, and, withal, as honest a creature as ever handled a lancet. Haggarty, as his name imports, was of the very same nation as Mrs. Gam, and, what is more, the honest fellow had some of the peculiarities which belonged to the widow, and bragged about his family almost as much as she did. I 19 290 MEN'S WIVES. do not know of what particular part of Ireland they were kings, but monarchs they must have been, as have been the ancestors of so many thousand Hibernian families; but they had been men of no small consideration in Dublin, " where my father," Haggarty said, " is as well known as King William's statue, and where he ' rowls his carriage, too,' let me tell ye." Hence, Haggarty was called by the wags " K-owl the car- riage," and several of them made inquiries of Mrs. Gam regarding him : " Mrs. Gam, when you used to go up from Molloyville to the Lord Lieutenant's balls, and had your town house in Fitzwilliam Square, used you to meet the famous Doctor Haggarty in society ? " " Is it Surgeon Haggarty of Gloucester Street ye mean ? The black Papist! D'ye suppose the Molloys would sit down to table with a creature of that sort ? " "Why, isn't he the most famous physician in Dublin, and doesn't he rowl his carriage there ? " " The horrid wretch ! He keeps a shop, I tell ye, and sends his sons out with the medicine. He's got four of them off into the army, Ulick and Phil, and Terence and Denny, and now it's Charles that takes out the physic. But how should I know about these odious creatures ? Their mother was a Burke, of Burke's Town, county Cavan, and brought Surgeon Haggarty two thousand pounds. She was a Protestant ; and I am surprised how she could have taken up with a horrid, odious, Popish apothecary ! " From the extent of the widow's information, I am led to suppose that the inhabitants of Dublin are not less anxious about their neighbors than are the natives of English cities ; and I think it is very probable that Mrs. Gam's account of the young Haggarties who carried out the medi- cine is perfectly correct, for a lad in the 120th made a caricature of Haggarty coming out of a chemist's shop with an oil-cloth basket under his arm, which set the worthy surgeon in such a fury that there would have been a duel between him and the ensign, could the fiery doctor have had his way. Now, Dionysius Haggarty was of an exceedingly inflam- mable temperament, and it chanced that of all the invalids, the visitors, the young squires of Warwickshire, the young manufacturers from Birmingham, the young officers from the barracks it chanced, unluckily for Miss Gam and DENNIS HAGG ARTY'S WIFE. 291 himself, that he was the only individual who was in the least smitten by her personal charms. He was very ten- der and modest about his love, however, for it must be owned that he respected Mrs. Gam hugely, and fully admitted, like a good simple fellow as he was, the superi- ority of that lady's birth and breeding to his own. How could he hope that he, a humble assistant-surgeon, with a thousand pounds his aunt Kitty left him for all his fortune, how could he hope that one of the race of Molloyville would ever condescend to marry him ? Inflamed, however, by love, and inspired by wine, one day at a picnic at Kenilworth, Haggarty, whose love and raptures were the talk of the whole regiment, was induced by his waggish comrades to make a proposal in form. " Are you aware, Mr. Haggarty, that you are speaking to a Molloy?" was all the reply the majestic Mrs. Gam made when, according to the usual formula, the fluttering Jemima referred her suitor to "mamma." She left him with a look which was meant to crush the poor fellow to earth ; she gathered up her cloak and bonnet, and precipi- tately called for her fly. She took care to tell every single soul in Leamington that the son of the odious Papist apothecary had had the audacity to propose for her daugh- ter (indeed a proposal, coming from whatever quarter it may, does no harm), and left Haggarty in a state of extreme depression and despair. His down-heartedness, indeed, surprised most of his acquaintances in and out of the regiment, for the young lady was no beauty, and a doubtful fortune, and Dennis was a man outwardly of an unromantic turn, who seemed to have a great deal more liking for beefsteak and whiskey- punch than for women, however fascinating. But there is no doubt this shy, uncouth, rough fellow had a warmer and more faithful heart hid within him than many a dandy who is as handsome as Apollo. I, for my part, never can understand why a man falls in love, and heartily give him credit for so doing, never mind with what or whom. That, I take to be a point quite as much beyond an individual's own control as the catching of the small-pox or the color of his hair. To the surprise of all, Assistant-Surgeon Dionysius Haggarty was deeply and seri- ously in love ; and I am told that one day he very nearly killed the before-mentioned young ensign with a carving- knife, for venturing to make a second caricature, represent- 292 MEN'S WIVES. ing Lady Gammon and Jemima in a fantastical park, surrounded by three gardeners, three carriages, three foot- men, and the covered cyar. He would have no joking concerning them. He became moody and quarrelsome of habit. He was for some time much more in the surgery and hospital than in the mess. He gave up the eating, for the most part, of those vast quantities of beef and pud- ding, for which his stomach had used to afford such ample and swift accommodation ; and when the cloth was drawn, instead of taking twelve tumblers, and singing Irish melo- dies, as he used to do, in a horrible cracked yelling voice, he would retire to his own apartment, or gloomily pace the barrack-yard, or madly whip and spur a gray mare he had on the road to Leamington, where his Jemima (although invisible for him) still dwelt. The season at Leamington coming to a conclusion by the withdrawal of the young fellows who frequented that watering-place, the Widow Gam retired to her usual quar- ters for the other months of the year. Where these quar- ters were I think we have no right to ask, for I believe she had quarrelled with her brother at Molloyville, and besides, was a great deal too proud to be a burden on anybody. Not only did the widow quit Leamington, but very soon afterwards the 120th received its marching orders, and left Weedon and Warwickshire. Haggarty's appetite was by this time partially restored, but his love was not altered, and his humor was still morose and gloomy. I am informed that at this period of his life he wrote some poems relative to his unhappy passion ; a wild set of verses of several lengths, and in his handwriting, being discovered upon a sheet of paper in which a pitch-plaster was wrapped up, which Lieutenant and Adjutant Wheezer was compelled to put on for a cold. Fancy then, three years afterwards, the surprise of all Haggarty's acquaintances on reading in the public papers the following announcement : "Married, at Monkstown, on the 12th instant, Dionysius Haggarty, Esq.. of H. M. 120th Foot, to Jemima Amelia Wilhelmina Molloy, daughter of the late Major Lancelot Gam, R. M., and granddaughter of the late and niece of the present Burke Bodkin Blake Molloy, Esq., Molloyville, county Mayo." "Has the course of true love at last begun to run smooth?" thought I, as I laid down the paper; and the DENNIS HAGG ARTY'S WIFE. 293 old times, and the old leering, bragging widow, and the high shoulders of her daughter, and the jolly days with the 120th, and Dr. Jephson's one-horse chaise, and the Warwickshire hunt, and and Louisa S , but never mind her, came back to my mind. Has that good- natured, simple fellow at last met with his reward ? Well, if he has not to marry the mother-in-law too, he may get on well enough. Another year announced the retirement of Assistant- Surgeon Haggarty from the 120th, where he was replaced by Assistant-Surgeon Angus Rothsay Leech, a Scotchman, probably ; with whom I have not the least acquaintance, and who has nothing whatever to do with this little history. Still more years passed on, during which time I will not say that I kept a constant watch upon the fortunes of Mr. Haggarty and his lady, for, perhaps, if the truth were known, I never thought for a moment about them; until one day, being at Kingstown, near Dublin, dawdling on the beach, and staring at the Hill of Howth, as most people at that watering-place do, I saw coming towards me a tall gaunt man, with a pair of bushy red whiskers, of which I thought I had seen the like in former years, and a face which could be no other than Haggarty's. It was Hag- garty, ten years older than when we last met, and greatly more grim and thin. He had on one shoulder a young gentleman in a dirty tartan costume, and a face exceedingly like his own peeping from under a battered plume of black feathers, while with his other hand he was dragging a light green go-cart, in which reposed a female infant of some two years old. Both were roaring with great power of lungs. As soon as Dennis saw me, his face lost the dull, puz- zled expression which had seemed to characterize it ; he dropped the pole of the go-cart from one hand, and his son from the other, and came jumping forward to greet me with all his might, leaving his progeny roaring in the road. " Bless my sowl," says he, " sure it's Fitz-Boodle ? Mtz, don't you remember me ? Dennis Haggarty of the 120th ? Leamington, you know ? Molloy, my boy, hould your tongue, and stop your screeching, and Jemima's too ; d'ye hear ? Well, it does good to sore eyes to see an old face. How fat you're grown, Fitz ; and were ye ever in Ireland before ? and a'n't ye delighted with it ? Confess, now, isn't it beautiful?" 294 MEN'S WIVES. This question regarding the merits of their country, which I have remarked is put by most Irish persons, being answered in a satisfactory manner, and the shouts of the infants appeased from an apple-stall hard by, Dennis and I talked of old times ; I congratulated him on his marriage with the lovely girl whom we all admired, and hoped he had a fortune with her, and so forth. His appearance, however, did not bespeak a great fortune: he had an old gray hat, short old trousers, an old waistcoat with regi- mental buttons, and patched Blucher boots, such as are not usually sported by persons in easy life. "Ah!" says he, with a sigh, in reply to my queries, "times are changed since them days, Fitz-Boodle. My wife's not what she was the beautiful creature you knew her. Molloy, my boy, run off in a hurry to your mamma, and tell her an English gentleman is coming home to dine ; for you'll dine with me, Fitz, in course ? " And I agreed to partake of that meal ; though Master Molloy altogether declined to obey his papa's orders with respect to announc- ing the stranger. "Well, I must announce you myself," said Haggarty, with a smile. " Come, it's just dinner-time, and my little cottage is not a hundred yards off." Accordingly, we all marched in procession to Dennis's little cottage, which was one of a row and a half of one-storied houses, with little court-yards before them, and mostly with very fine names on the door-posts of each. "Surgeon Haggarty" was emblazoned on Dennis's gate, on a stained green copper- plate ; and, not content with this, on the door-post above the bell was an oval with the inscription of " New Molloy- ville." The bell was broken, of course ; the court, or garden-path, was mouldy, weedy, seedy ; there were some dirty rocks, by way of ornament, round a faded grass-plat in the centre, some clothes and rags hanging out of most part of the windows of New Molloyville, the immediate entrance to which was by a battered scraper under a broken trellis-work, up which a withered creeper declined any longer to climb. "Small but snug," says Haggarty: "I'll lead the way, Fitz ; put your hat on the flower-pot there, and turn to the left into the drawing-room." A fog of onions and turf- smoke filled the whole of the house, and gave signs that dinner was not far off. Far off ? You could hear it frizzling in the kitchen, where the maid was also endeavor- DENNIS HAGGARTY'S WIFE. 295 ing to hush the crying of a third refractory child. But as we entered, all three of Haggarty's darlings were in full war. " Is it you, Dennis ? " cried a sharp raw voice, from a dark corner in the drawing-room to which we were intro- duced, and in which a dirty tablecloth was laid for dinner, some bottles of porter and a cold mutton-bone being laid out on a rickety grand-piano hard by. " Ye're always late, Mr. Haggarty. Have you brought the whiskey from Nowlan's ? I'll go bail ye've not now." " My dear, I've brought an old friend of yours and mine to take pot-luck with us to-day," said Dennis. "When is he to come ? " said the lady. At which speech I was rather surprised, for I stood before her. " Here he is, Jemima my love," answered Dennis, looking at me. "Mr. Fitz-Boodle; don't you remember him in Warwickshire, darling ? " " Mr. Fitz-Boodle ! I am very glad to see him," said the lady rising and courtesying with much cordiality. Mrs. Haggarty was blind. Mrs. Haggarty was not only blind, but it was evident that small-pox had been the cause of her loss of vision. His eyes were bound with a bandage, her features were entirely swollen, scarred, and distorted by the horrible effects of the malady. She had been knitting in a corner when we entered, and was wrapped in a very dirty bed- gown. Her voice to me was quite different to that in which she addressed her husband. She spoke to Haggarty in broad Irish ; she addressed me in that most odious of all languages Irish-English, endeavoring to the utmost to disguise her brogue, and to speak with the true dawdling distingue English air. "Are you long in I-a-land?" said the poor creature, in this accent. " You must find it a sad ba'ba'ous place, Mr. Fitz-Boodle, I'm shu-ah ! It was very kaind of you to come upon us en famille and accept a dinner sans ceremonie. Mr. Haggarty, I hope you'll put the waine into aice, Mr. Fitz- Boodle must be melted with this hot weathah." For some time she conducted the conversation in this polite strain, and I was obliged to say in reply to a query of hers, that I did not find her the least altered, though I should never have recognized her but for this rencontre. She told Haggarty with a significant air to get the wine from the cellah, and whispered to me that he was his own butlah ; and the poor fellow, taking the hint, scudded away 296 MEN'S WIVES. into the town for a pound of veal cutlets and a couple of bottles of wine from the tavern. "Will the childhren get their potatoes and butther here ? " said a barefoot girl, with long black hair flowing over her face, which she thrust in at the door. " Let them sup in the nursery, Elizabeth, and send ah ! Edwards to me." " Is it cook you mane, ma'am ? " said the girl. "Send her at once!" shrieked the unfortunate woman; and the noise of frying presently ceasing, a hot woman made her appearance, wiping her brows with her apron, and asking, with an accent decidedly Hibernian, what the niisthress wanted. "Lead me up to my dressing-room, Edwards: I really am not fit to be seen in this dishabille by Mr. Fitz-Boodle." " Fait' I can't ! " says Edwards ; " sure the inasther's out at the butcher's, and can't look to the kitchen fire ! " "Nonsense, I must go!" cried Mrs. Haggarty; and so Edwards, putting on a resigned air, and giving her arm and face a further rub with her apron, held out her arm to Mrs. Dennis, and the pair went up stairs. She left me to indulge my reflections for half an hour, at the end of which period she came down stairs dressed in an old yellow satin, with the poor shoulders exposed just as much as ever. She had mounted a tawdry cap, which Haggarty himself must have selected for her. She had all sorts of necklaces, bracelets, and earrings, in gold, in garnets, in mother-of-pearl, in ormolu. She brought in a furious savor of musk, which drove the odors of onions and turf -smoke before it; and she waved across her wretched angular, mean, scarred features an old cambric handker- chief with a yellow lace border. "And so you would have known me anywhere, Mr. Fitz-Boodle ? " said she, with a grin that was meant to be most fascinating. " I was sure you would ; for though my dreadful illness deprived me of my sight, it is a mercy that it did not change my features or complexion at all ! " This mortification had been spared the unhappy woman ; but I don't know whether, with all her vanity, her infernal pride, folly, and selfishness, it was charitable to leave her in her error. Yet why correct her ? There is a quality in certain persons which is above all advice, exposure, or correction. Only let a man or a woman have DULNESS sufficient, and DENNIS HAGGARTY'S WIFE. 297 they need bow to no extant authority. A dullard recognizes no betters ; a dullard can't see that he is in the wrong ; a dullard has no scruples of conscience, no doubts of pleasing, or succeeding, or doing right ; no qualms for other people's feelings, no respect but for the fool himself. How can you make a fool perceive that he is a fool ? Such a personage can no more see his own folly than he can see his own ears. And the great quality of Dulness is to be unalterably con- tented with itself. What myriads of souls are there of this admirable sort, selfish, stingy, ignorant, passionate, brutal ; bad sons, mothers, fathers, never known to do kind actions ! To pause, however, in this disquisition, which was carrying us far off Kingstown, New Molloyville, Ireland, nay, into the wide world wherever Dulness inhabits, let it be stated that Mrs. Haggarty, from my brief acquaintance with her and her mother, was of the order of persons just mentioned. There was an air of conscious merit about her, very hard to swallow along with the infamous dinner poor Dennis managed, after much delay, to get on the table. She did not fail to invite me to Molloyville, where she said her cousin would be charmed to see me ; and she told me almost as many anecdotes about that place as her mother used to impart in former days. I observed, moreover, that Dennis cut her the favorite pieces of the beefsteak, that she ate thereof with great gusto, and that she drank with similar eagerness of the various strong liquors at table. " We Irish ladies are all fond of a leetle glass of punch," she said, with a playfiil air, and Dennis mixed her a power- ful tumbler of such violent grog as I myself could swallow only with some difficulty. She talked of her sufferings a great deal, of her sacrifices, of the luxuries to which she had been accustomed before marriage, in a word, of a hundred of those themes on which some ladies are in the custom of enlarging when they wish to plague some husbands. But honest Dennis, far from being angry at this perpet- ual, wearisome, impudent recurrence to her own superior- ity, rather encouraged the conversation than otherwise. It pleased him to hear his wife discourse about her merits and family splendors. He was so thoroughly beaten down and henpecked, that he, as it were, gloried in his servitude, and fancied that his wife's magnificence reflected credit on himself. He looked toward me, who was half sick of the 298 MEN'S WIVES. woman and her egotism, as if expecting me to exhibit the deepest sympathy, and flung me glances across the table as much as to say, "What a gifted creature my Jemima is, and what a tine fellow I am to be in possession of her ! " When the children came down, she scolded them, of course, and dismissed them abruptly (for which circumstance, per- haps, the writer of these pages was not in his heart very sorry), and, after having sat a preposterously long time, left us, asking whether we would have coffee there or in her boudoir. " Oh ! here, of course," said Dennis, with rather a troubled air, and in about ten minutes the lovely creature was led back to us again by " Edwards," and the coffee made its appearance. After coffee her husband begged her to let Mr. Fitz-Boodle hear her voice : " He longs for some of his old favorites." "No ! do you ? " said she ; and was led in triumph to the jingling old piano, and with a screechy, wiry voice, sung those very abominable old ditties which I had heard her sing at Leamington ten years back. Haggerty, as she sang, flung himself back in the chair de- lighted. Husbands always are, and with the same song, one that they had heard when they were nineteen years old, probably ; most Englishmen's tunes have that date, and it is rather affecting, I think, to hear an old gentleman of sixty or seventy quavering the old ditty that was fresh when he was fresh and in his prime. If he has a musical wife, depend on it he thinks her old songs of 1788 are better than any he has heard since : in fact he has heard none since. When the old couple are in high good-humor the gentleman will take the old lady round the waist, and say, " My dear, do sing me one of your own songs," and she sits down and sings with her old voice, and, as she sings, the roses of her youth bloom again for a moment. Kanelagh resuscitates, and she is dancing a minuet in powder and a train. This is another digression. It was occasioned by looking at poor Dennis's face while his wife was screeching (and, believe me, the former was the most pleasant occupation). Bottom tickled by the fairies could not have been in greater ecstasies. He thought the music was divine ; and had further reason for exulting in it, which was, that his wife was always in a good-humor after singing, and never would sing but in that happy frame of mind. Dennis had DENNIS HAGGARTY'S WIFE. 299 hinted so much, in our little colloquy during the ten min- utes of his lady's absence in the "boudoir"; so, at the conclusion of each piece, we shouted " Bravo ! " and clapped our hands like mad. Such was iny insight into the life of Surgeon Dionysius Haggerty and his wife ; and I must have come upon him at a favorable moment, too, for poor Dennis has spoken, sub- sequently, of our delightful evening at Kingstown, and evidently thinks to this day that his friend was fascinated by the entertainment there. His inward economy was as follows : he had his half-pay, a thousand pounds, about a hundred a year that his father left, and his wife had sixty pounds a year from the mother; which the mother, of course, never paid. He had no practice, for he was absorbed in attention to his Jemima and the children, whom he used to wash, to dress, to carry out, to walk, or to ride, as we have seen, and who could not have a servant, as their dear blind mother could never be left alone. Mrs. Haggarty, a great invalid, used to lie in bed till one, and have breakfast and hot luncheon there. A fifth part of his income was spent in having her wheeled about in a chair, by which it was his duty to walk daily for an allotted num- ber of hours. Dinner would ensue, and the amateur clergy, who abound in Ireland, and of whom Mrs. Haggarty was a great admirer, lauded her everywhere as a model of resigna- tion and virtue, and praised beyond measure the admirable piety with which she bore her sufferings. Well, every man to his taste. It did not certainly appear to me that she was the martyr of the family. " The circumstances of my marriage with Jemima," Den^ nis said to me, in some after conversations we had on this interesting subject, "were the most romantic and touching you can conceive. You saw what an impression the dear girl had made upon me when we were at Weedon ; for from the first day I set eyes on her, and heard her sing her delightful song of ' Dark-eyed Maiden of Araby,' I felt, and said to Turniquet of ours, that very night, that she was the dark-eyed maid of Araby for me, not that she was, you know, for she was born in Shropshire. But I felt that I had seen the woman who was to make me happy or miser- able for life. You know how I proposed for her at Kenil- worth, and how I was rejected, and how I almost shot myself in consequence, no, you don't know that, for I said nothing about it to any one, but I can tell you it was 300 MEN'S WIVES. a very near thing ; and a very lucky thing for me I didn't do it : for, would you believe it ? the dear girl was in love with me all the time." " Was she, really ? " said I, who recollected that Miss Gam's love of those days showed itself in a very singular manner: but the fact is, when women are most in love they most disguise it. " Over head and ears in love with poor Dennis," resumed that worthy fellow, " who'd ever have thought it ? But I have it from the best authority, from her own mother, with whom I'm not over and above good friends now; but of this fact she assured me, and I'll tell you when and how. " We were quartered at Cork three years after we were at Weedon, and it was our last year at home ; and a great mercy that my dear girl spoke in time, or where should we have been now? Well, one day, marching home from parade, I saw a lady seated at an open window by another who seemed an invalid, and the lady at the window, who was dressed in the profoundest mourning, cried out, with a scream, * Gracious heavens ! it's Mr. Haggarty of the 120th.' " ' Sure I know that voice,' says I to Whiskerton. " ' It's a great mercy you don't know it a deal too well,' says he: 'it's Lady Gammon. She's on some husband- hunting scheme, depend on it, for that daughter of hers. She was at Bath last year on the same errand, and at Cheltenham the year before, where, heaven bless you! she's as well known as the " Hen and Chickens." ' "'I'll thank you not to speak disrespectfully of Miss Jemima Gam,' said I to Whiskerton ; ' she's of one of the first families in Ireland, and whoever says a word against a woman I once proposed for, insults me, do you under- stand ? ' " ' Well, marry her, if you like,' says Whiskerton, quite peevish : 'marry her, and be hanged ! ' " Marry her ! the very idea of it set my brain a-whirling, and made me a thousand times more mad than I am by nature. " You may be sure I walked up the hill to the parade- ground that afternoon, and with a beating heart too. I came to the widow's house. It was called ' New Molloy- ville,' as this is. Wherever she takes a house for six months, she calls it 'New Molloy ville ' ; and has had one in Mallow, in Bandon, in Sligo, in Castlebar, in Fermoy, DENNIS HAGGARTY'S WIFE. 301 in Drogheda, and the deuce knows where besides : but the blinds were down, and though I thought I saw somebody behind 'em, no notice was taken of poor Denny Haggarty, and I paced up and down all mess-time in hopes of catching a glimpse of Jemima, but in vain. The next day I was on the ground again; I was just as much in love as ever, that's the fact. I'd never been in that way before, look you ; and when once caught, I knew it was for life. " There's no use in telling you how long I beat about the bush, but when I did get admittance to the house (it was through the means of young Castlereagh Molloy, whom you may remember at Leamington, and who was at Cork for the regatta, and used to dine at our mess, and had taken a mighty fancy to me) when I did get into the house, I say, I rushed in medias res at once : I couldn't keep myself quiet, my heart was too full. "Oh, Fitz ! I shall never forget the day, the moment I was inthrojuiced into the dthrawing-room " (as he began to be agitated, Dennis's brogue broke out with greater rich- ness than ever; but though a stranger may catch, and repeat from memory, a few words, it is next to impossible for him to keep up a conversation in Irish, so that we had best give up all attempts to imitate Dennis). "When I saw old Mother Gam," said he, "my feelings overcame me all at once. I rowled down on the ground, sir, as if I'd been hit by a musket-ball. ' Dearest madam,' says I, ' I'll die if you don't give me Jemima.' " l Heavens, Mr. Haggarty ! ' says she, ' how you seize me with surprise ! Castlereagh, my dear nephew, had you not better leave us ? ' and away he went, lighting a cigar, and leaving me still on the floor. "'Rise, Mr. Haggarty,' continued the widow. 'I will not attempt to deny that this constancy towards my daughter is extremely affecting, however sudden your present appeal may be. I will not attempt to deny that, perhaps, Jemima may have a similar feeling; but, as I said, I never could give my daughter to a Catholic.' " ' I'm as good a Protestant as yourself, ma'am,' says I ; 'my mother was an heiress, and we were all brought up her way.' " ' That makes the matter very different,' says she, turn- ing up the whites of her eyes. ' How could I ever have reconciled it to my conscience to see my blessed child mar- ried to a Papist ? How could I ever have taken him to 302 MEN'S WIVES. Molloyville ? Well, this obstacle being removed, / must put myself no longer in the way between two young people. / must sacrifice myself ; as I always have when my darling girl was in question. You shall see her, the poor, dear, lovely, gentle sufferer, and learn your fate from her own lips.' " ' The sufferer, ma'am,' says I ; ' has Miss Gam been ill?' " ' What ! haven't you heard ? ' cried the widow. ' Haven't you heard of the dreadful illness which so nearly carried her from me ? For nine weeks, Mr. Haggarty, I watched her day and night, without taking a wink of sleep, for nine weeks she lay trembling between death and life ; and I paid the doctor eighty-three guineas. She is restored now ; but she is the wreck of the beautiful creature she was. Suffering, and, perhaps, another disappointment but we won't mention that now have so pulled her down. But I will leave you, and prepare my sweet girl for this strange, this entirely unexpected visit.' " I won't tell you what took place between me and Jemima, to whom I was introduced as she sat in the darkened room, poor sufferer ! nor describe to you with what a thrill of joy I seized (after groping about for it) her poor emaciated hand. She did not withdraw it ; I came out of that room an engaged man, sir ; and now I was enabled to show her that I had always loved her sincerely, for there was my will, made three years back, in her favor : that night she refused me, as I told ye. I would have shot myself, but they'd have brought me in non compos; and my brother Mick would have contested the will, and so I determined to live, in order that she might benefit by my dying. I had but a thousand pounds then : since that my father has left me two more. I willed every shilling to her, as you may fancy, and settled it upon her when we married, as we did soon after. It was not for some time that I was allowed to see the poor girl's face, or, indeed, was aware of the horrid loss she had sustained. Fancy my agony, my dear fellow, when I saw that beautiful wreck ! " There was something not a little affecting to think, in the conduct of this brave fellow, that he never once, as he told his story, seemed to allude to the possibility of his declining to marry a woman who was not the same as the woman he loved ; but that he was quite as faithful to her now, as he had been when captivated by the poor tawdry DENNIS HAGGARTY'S WIFE. 303 charms of the silly Miss of Leamington. It was hard that such a noble heart as this should be flung away upon yonder foul mass of greedy vanity. Was it hard, or not, that he should remain deceived in his obstinate humility, and con- tinue to admire the selfish, silly being whom he had chosen to worship ? " I should have been appointed surgeon of the regiment," continued Dennis, " soon after, when it was ordered abroad to Jamaica, where it now is. But my wife would not hear of going, and said she would break her heart if she left her mother. So I retired on half-pay, and took this cottage ; and in case any practice should fall in my way why, there is my name on the brass plate, and I'm ready for anything that comes. But the only case that ever did come was one day when I was driving my wife in the chaise, and another, one night, of a beggar with a broken head. My wife makes me a present of a baby every year, and we've no debts ; and between you and me and the post, as long as my mother-in-law is out of the house, I'm as happy as I need be." "What ! you and the old lady don't get on well? " said I. " I can't say we do ; it's not in nature, you know," said Dennis, with a faint grin. " She comes into the house, and turns it topsy-turvy. When she's here I'm obliged to sleep in the scullery. She's never paid her daughter's income since the first year, though she brags about her sacrifices as if she had ruined herself for Jemima ; and besides, when she's here, there's a whole clan of Molloys, horse, foot, and dragoons, that are quartered upon us, and eat me out of house and home." " And is Molloyville such a fine place as the widow described it ? " asked I, laughing, and not a little curious. " Oh, a mighty fine place entirely ! " said Dennis. "There's the oak park of two hundred acres, the finest land ye ever saw, only they've cut all the wood down. The garden in the old Molloy's time, they say, was the finest ever seen in the West of Ireland ; but they've taken all the glass to mend the house windows : and small blame to them either. There's a clear rent-roll of three and fifty hundred a year, only it's in the hand of receivers ; besides other debts, on which there is no land security." " Your cousin-in-law, Castlereagh Molloy, won't come into a large fortune ? " " Oh, he'll do very well," said Dennis. " As long as he 304 MEN'S WIVES. can get credit, he's not the fellow to stint himself. Faith, I was fool enough to put my name to a bit of paper for him, and as they could not catch him in Mayo, they laid hold of me at Kingstown here. And there was a pretty to do. Didn't Mrs. Gam say I was ruining her family, that's all ? I paid it by instalments (for all my money is settled on Jemima) ; and Castlereagh, who is an honorable fellow, offered me any satisfaction in life. Anyhow he couldn't do more than that" " Of course not, and now you're friends ? " " Yes, and he and his aunt have had a tiff, too ; and he abuses her properly, I warrant ye. He says that she carried about Jemima from place to place, and flung her at the head of every unmarried man in England a'most, my poor Jemima, and she all the while dying in love with me ! As soon as she got over the small-pox she took it at Fermoy God bless her, I wish I'd been by to be her nurse-tender, as soon as she was rid of it, the old lady said to Castle- reagh, ' Castlereagh, go to the bar'cks, and find out in the Army List where the 120th is.' Off she came to Cork hot foot. It appears that while she was ill, Jemima's love for me showed itself in such a violent way that her mother was overcome, and promised that, should the dear child recover, she would try and bring us together. Castlereagh says she would have gone after us to Jamaica." " I have no doubt she would," said I. " Could you have a stronger proof of love than that ? " cried Dennis. " My dear girl's illness and frightful blind- ness have, of course, injured her health and her temper. She cannot in her position look to the children, you know, and so they come under my charge for the most part ; and her temper is unequal, certainly. But you see what a sen- sitive, refined, elegant creature she is, and may fancy that she's often put out by a rough fellow like me." Here Dennis left me, saying it was time to go and walk out the children ; and I think his story has matter of some wholesome reflection in it for bachelors who are about to change their condition, or may console some who are mourn- ing their celibacy. Marry, gentlemen, if you like ; leave your comfortable dinner at the club for cold mutton and curl-papers at your home ; give up your books or pleasures, and take to yourselves wives and children ; but think well on what you do first, as I have no doubt you will after this advice and example. Advice is always useful in matters DENNIS HAGGARTY'S WIFE. 305 of love ; men always take it ; they always follow other people's opinions, not their own : they always profit by example. When they see a pretty woman, and feel the delicious madness of love coming over them, they always stop to calculate her temper, her money, their own money, or suitableness for the married life. . . . Ha, ha, ha ! Let us fool in this way no more. I have been in love forty-three times with all ranks and conditions of women, and would have married every time if they would have let me. How many wives had King Solomon, the wisest of men ? And is not that story a warning to us that Love is master of the wisest ? It is only fools who defy him. I must come, however, to the last, and perhaps the sad- 20 306 MEN'S WIVES. dest, part of poor Denny Haggarty's history. I met him once more, and in such a condition as made me determine to write this history. In the month of June last I happened to be at Richmond, a delightful little place of retreat ; and there, sunning him- self upon the terrace, was my old friend of the 120th : he looked older, thinner, poorer, and more wretched than I had ever seen him. " What ! you have given up Kingstown ? " said I, shaking him by the hand. " Yes," says he. " And is my lady and your family here at Richmond ? " " No," says he, with a sad shake of the head ; and the poor fellow's hollow eyes filled with tears. " Good heavens, Denny ! what's the matter ? " said I. He was squeezing my hand like a vice as I spoke. " They've LEFT me ! " he burst out with a dreadful shout of passionate grief a horrible scream which seemed to be wrenched out of his heart, " Left me ! " said he, sinking down on a seat, and clenching his great fists, and shaking his lean arms wildly. " I'm a wise man now, Mr. Fitz-Boodle. Jemima has gone away from me, and yet you know how I loved her, and how happy we were ! I've got nobody now ; but I'll die soon, that's one comfort : and to think it's she that'll kill me after all ! " The story which he told, with a wild and furious lamen- tation such as is not known among men of our cooler coun- try, and such as I don't like now to recall, was a very simple one. The mother-in-law had taken possession of the house, and had driven him from it. His property at his marriage was settled on his wife. She had never loved him, and told him this secret at last, and drove him out of doors with her selfish scorn and ill temper. The boy had died ; the girls were better, he said, brought up among the Molloys than they could be with him ; and so he was quite alone in the world, and was living, or rather dying, on forty pounds a year. His troubles are very likely over by this time. The two fools who caused his misery will never read this history of him ; they never read godless stories in magazines : and I wish, honest reader, that you and I went to church as much as they do. These people are not wicked because of their religious observances, but in spite of them. They are too dull to understand humility, too blind to see a tender and simple heart under a rough and ungainly bosom. They are DENNIS HAGGARTY'S WIFE. 307 sure that all their conduct towards .my poor friend here has been perfectly righteous, and that they have given proofs of the most Christian virtue. Haggarty's wife is considered by her friends as a martyr to a savage husband, and her mother is the angel that has come to rescue her. All they did was to cheat him and desert him. And safe in that wonderful self-complacency with which the fools of this earth are en- dowed, they have not a single pang of conscience for their villany towards him, and consider their heartlessness as a proof and consequence of their spotless piety and virtue. THE BOOK OF SNOBS. ADVERTISEMENT. THE genus "Snob" formed the subject of the earliest of Mr. Thackeray's studies of character. When he was an undergraduate of Cambridge, in 1829, there appeared an unpretending little weekly periodical entitled " The Snob : a Literary and Scientific Journal," NOT "conducted by members of the University," to which Mr. Thackeray was a contributor ; and it probably owed its name and existence to him. Each number contained only six pages, of a small octavo size, printed on tinted paper of different colors, green, pink, and yellow ; and, as if to complete the eccen- tricity of the periodical, its price was twopence-halfpenny. " The Snob " had but a short life, only eleven numbers hav- ing been published ; the first being dated April 9th, 1829, and the last, June 18, of the same year. In those contributions which appear to have been written by Mr. Thackeray, indications are discernible of the fine satiric humor with which he ridiculed vulgarity and preten- sion in " The Book of Snobs." But as the Publishers believe that the Author would not himself have wished such fugi- tive papers, hastily thrown off in sport for his own amuse- ment, at an early period of his life, to be republished, none of them have been included in this volume. 311 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. BY ONE OF THEMSELVES. PREFATORY REMARKS. [The necessity of a work on Snobs, demonstrated from History, and proved by felicitous illustrations : lam the individual destined to write that work My vocation is announced in terms of great eloquence I show that the world has been gradually preparing itself for the WORK and the MAN Snobs are to be studied like other objects of Natural Science, and are apart of the Beautiful (with a large B). They pervade all classes Affecting instance of Colonel Snobley.] E have all read a statement (the authenticity of which I take leave to doubt entirely, for upon what calculations I should like to know is it founded?) we have all, I say, been favored by perusing a remark, that when the times and necessities of the world call for a Man, that indi- vidual is found. Thus at the French Revolution (which the reader will be pleased to have introduced so early), when it was requisite to administer a corrective dose to the nation, Robespierre was found; a most foul and nauseous dose indeed, and swallowed eagerly by the patient, greatly to the latter's ultimate advantage : thus, when it became necessary to kick . John Bull out of America, Mr. Washington stepped forward and per- formed that job to satisfaction : thus, when the Earl of Aldborough was unwell, Professor Holloway appeared with his pills, and cured his lordship, as per advertisement, &c., &c. Numberless instances might be adduced to show that when a nation is in great want, the relief is at hand ; just as in the Pantomime (that microcosm) where when 313 314 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. Clown wants anything a warming-pan, a pump-handle, a goose, or a lady's tippet a fellow comes sauntering out from behind the side-scenes with the very article in ques- tion. Again, when men commence an undertaking, they always are prepared to show that the absolute necessities of the world demanded its completion. Say it is a railroad : the directors begin by stating that "A more intimate com- munication between Bathershins and Derrynane Beg is necessary for the advancement of civilization, and de- manded by the multitudinous acclamations of the great Irish people." Or suppose it is a newspaper : the pros- pectus states that "At a time when the Church is in danger, threatened from without by savage fanaticism and miscreant unbelief, and undermined from within by dangerous Jesuitism and suicidal Schism, a Want has been universally felt a suffering people has looked abroad for an Ecclesiastical Champion and Guardian. A body of Prelates and Gentlemen have therefore stepped forward in this our hour of danger, and determined on es- tablishing the Beadle newspaper," &c., &c. One or other of these points at least is incontrovertible : the public wants a thing, therefore it is supplied with it; or the public is supplied with a thing ; therefore it wants it. I have long gone about with a conviction on my mind that I had a work to do a Work, if you like, with a great W ; a Purpose to fulfil ; a chasm to leap into, like Curtius, horse & foot ; a Great Social Evil to Discover and to Rem- edy. That Conviction Has Pursued me for Years. It has Dogged me in the Busy Street ; Seated Itself By Me in The Lonely Study; Jogged My Elbow as it Lifted the Wine-cup at The Festive Board ; pursued me through the Maze of Rotten Row; Followed me in Far Lands. On Brighton's Shingly Beach, or Margate's Sand, the Voice Outpiped the Roaring of the Sea ; it Nestles in my Night- cap, and It Whispers "Wake, Slumberer, thy Work Is Not Yet Done." Last Year, By Moonlight, in the Colos- seum, the Little Sedulous Voice Came to Me and Said, "Smith, or Jones" (The Writer's Name is Neither Here nor There), "Smith or Jones, my fine fellow, this is all very well, but you ought to be at home writing your great work on SNOBS." When a man has this sort of vocation it is all nonsense attempting to elude it. He must speak out to the nations THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 315 he must uribusm himself, as Jeames would say, or choke and die. "Mark to yourself," I have often mentally ex- claimed to your humble servant, " the gradual way in which you have been prepared for, and are now led by an irresistible necessity to enter upon your great labor. First, the World was made : then, as a matter of course, Snobs ; they ex- isted for years and years, and were no more known than America. But presently, ingens patebat tellus, the people became darkly aware that there was such a race. Not above five-and-twenty years since, a name, an expres- sive monosyllable, arose to designate that race. That name has spread over England like railroads subse- quently; Snobs are known and recognized throughout an Empire on which I am given to understand the Sun never sets. Punch appears at the ripe season, to chronicle their history : and the individual comes forth to write that history in Punch." * I have (and for this gift I congratulate myself with a Deep and Abiding thankfulness) an eye for a Snob. If the Truthful is the Beautiful, it is Beautiful to study even the Snobbish ; to track Snobs through history, as certain little dogs in Hampshire hunt out truffles ; to sink shafts in society and come upon rich veins of Snob-ore. Snobbish- ness is like Death in a quotation from Horace, which I hope you never have heard, "beating with equal foot at poor men's doors, and kicking at the gates of Emperors." It is a great mistake to judge of Snobs lightly, and think they exist among the lower classes merely. An immense percentage of Snobs, I believe, is to be found in every rank of this mortal life. You must not judge hastily or vulgarly of Snobs : to do so shows that you are yourself a Snob. I myself have been taken for one. When I was taking the waters at Bagniggie Wells, and living at the "Imperial Hotel" there, there used to sit opposite me at breakfast, for a short time, a Snob so insufferable that I felt I should never get any benefit of the waters so long as he remained. His name was Lieutenant-Colonel Snobley, of a certain dragoon regiment. He wore japanned boots and moustaches : he lisped, drawled, and left the " r's " out of his words ; he was always nourish- ing about and smoothing his lacquered whiskers with a huge * These papers were originally published in that popular period- ical. 316 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. flaming bandanna, that filled the room with an odor of musk so stifling that I determined to do battle with that Snob, and that either he or I should quit the Inn. I first began harmless conversations with him; frightening him exceedingly, for he did not know what to do when so attacked, and had never the slightest notion that anybody would take such a liberty with him as to speak first : then I handed him the paper: then, as he would take no notice of these advances, I used to look him in the face steadily and and use my fork in the light of a toothpick. After two mornings of this practice, he could bear it no longer, and fairly quitted the place. Should the Colonel see this, will he remember the Gent who asked him if he thought Publicoaler was a fine writer, and drove him from the Hotel with a four-pronged fork ? CHAPTER I. THE SNOB PLAYFULLY DEALT WITH. HEKE are relative and positive Snobs. I mean by positive, such, persons as are Snobs everywhere, in all companies, from morning till night, from youth to the grave, being by Nature endowed with Snobbishness and others who are Snobs only in certain circumstances and relations of life. For instance : I once knew a man who committed before me an act as atrocious as that which I have indicated in the last chap- ter as performed by me for the purpose of disgusting Colonel Snobley ; viz., the using the fork in the guise of a toothpick. I once, I say, knew a man who, dining in my company at the " Europa Coffee-house " (opposite the Grand Opera, and, as everybody knows, the only decent place for dining at Naples), ate pease with the assistance of his knife. He was a person with whose society I was greatly pleased at first indeed, we had met in the crater of Vesuvius, and were subsequently robbed and held to ransom by brigands in Calabria, which is nothing to the purpose a man of great powers, excel- lent heart, and varied information ; but I had never before seen him with a dish of pease, and his conduct in regard to them caused me the deepest pain. After having seen him thus publicly comport himself, but one course was open to me to cut his acquaintance. I commissioned a mutual friend (the Honorable Poly Anthus) to break the matter to this gentleman as deli- cately as possible, and to say that painful circumstances 317 318 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. in nowise affecting Mr. Marrowfat's honor, or my es- teem for him had occurred, which obliged me to forego my intimacy with him; and accordingly we met, and gave each other the cut direct that night at the Duchess of Monte Fiasco's ball. Everybody at Naples remarked the separation of the Damon and Pythias indeed, Marrowfat had saved my life more than once but as an English gentleman, what was I to do ? My dear friend was, in this instance, the Snob relative. It is not snobbish of persons of rank of any other nation to employ their knife in the manner alluded to. I have seen Monte Fiasco clean his trencher with his knife, and every Principe in company doing likewise. I have seen, at the hospitable board of H. I. H. the Grand Duchess Stephanie of Baden (who, if these humble lines should come under her Imperial eyes, is besought to remember graciously the most devoted of her servants) I have seen, I say, the Hereditary Princess of Potztausend-Donnerwetter (that serenely-beautiful woman) use her knife in lieu of a fork or spoon ; I have seen her almost swallow it, by Jove ! like Eamo Samee, the Indian juggler. And did I blench ? Did my estimation for the Princess diminish ? No, lovely A mali a ! One of the truest passions that ever was inspired by woman was raised in this bosom by that lady ! Beauti- ful one ! long, long may the knife carry food to those lips ! the reddest and loveliest in the world. The cause of my quarrel with Marrowfat I never breathed to mortal soul for four years. We met in the halls of the aristocracy our friends and relatives. We jostled each other in the dance or at the board ; but the estrangement continued, and seemed irrevocable, until the fourth of June, last year. We met at Sir George Golloper's. We were placed, he on the right, your humble servant on the left, of the ad- mirable Lady G. Pease formed part of the banquet ducks and green pease. I trembled as I saw Marrowfat helped, and turned away sickening, lest I should behold the weapon darting down his horrid jaws. What was my astonishment, what my delight, when I saw him use his fork like any other Christian ! He did not administer the cold steel once. Old times rushed back upon me the remembrance of old services his rescuing me from the brigands his gallant conduct in the affair THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 319 with the Countess Dei Spinachi his lending me the 1,700. I almost burst into tears with joy my voice trembled with emotion. " George, my boy ! " I exclaimed, " George Marrowfat, my dear fellow ! a glass of wine ! " Blushing deeply moved almost as tremulous as I was myself, George answered, " Frank, shall it be Hock or Ma- deira ? " I could have hugged him to my heart but for the presence of the company. Little did Lady Golloper know what was the cause of the emotion which sent the duckling I was carving into her ladyship's pink satin lap. The most good-natured of women pardoned the error, and the butler removed the bird. We have been the closest friends ever since, nor, of course, has George repeated his odious habit. He acquired it at a country school, where they cultivated pease and only used two-pronged forks, and it was only by living on the Continent, where the usage of the four-prong is general, that he lost the horrible custom. In this point and in this only I confess myself a member of the Silver-Fork School ; and if this tale but induce one of my readers to pause, to examine in his own mind solemnly, and ask, " Do I or do I not eat pease with a knife ? " to see the ruin which may fall upon himself by continuing the practice, or his family by beholding the example, these lines will not have been written in vain. And now, whatever other authors may be, I flatter myself, it will be allowed that /, at least, am a moral man. By the way, as some readers are dull of comprehension, I may as well say what the moral of this history is. The moral is this Society having ordained certain customs, men are bound to obey the law of society, and conform to its harmless orders. If I should go to the British and Foreign Institute (and heaven forbid I should go under any pretext or in any cos- tume whatever) if I should go to one of the tea-parties in a dressing-gown and slippers, and not in the usual attire of a gentleman, viz., pumps, a gold waistcoat, a crush hat, a sham frill, and a white choker I should be insulting society, and eating pease with my knife. Let the porters of the Institute hustle out the individual who shall so offend. Such an offender is, as regards society, a most emphatical and refractory Snob. It has its code and police as well as governments, and he must conform who would profit by the decrees set forth for their common comfort. 320 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. I am naturally averse to egotism, and hate self-laudation consumedly ; but I can't help relating here a circumstance illustrative of the point in question, in which I must think I acted with considerable prudence. Being at Constantinople a few years since (on a deli- cate mission) the Russians were playing a douole game, between ourselves, and it became necessary on our part to employ an extra negotiator Leckerbiss Pasha of Rou- melia, then Chief Galeongee of the Porte, gave a diplo- matic banquet at his summer palace at Bujukdere. I was on the left of the Galeongee, and the Russian agent, Count de Diddloff, on his dexter side. Diddloff is a dandy who would die of a rose in aromatic pain : he had tried to have me assassinated three times in the course of the negotia- tion ; but of course we were friends in public, and saluted each other in the most cordial and charming manner. The Galeongee is or was, alas ! for a bowstring has done for him a stanch supporter of the old school of Turkish politics. We dined with our fingers, and had flaps of bread for plates ; the only innovation he admitted was the use of European liquors, in which he indulged with great gusto. He was an enormous eater. Amongst the dishes a very large one was placed before him of a lamb dressed in its wool, stuffed with prunes, garlic, asafoetida, capsicums, and other condiments, the most abominable mixture that ever mortal smelt or tasted. The Galeongee ate of this hugely; and, pursuing the Eastern fashion, insisted on helping his friends right and left, and when he came to a particularly spicy morsel, would push it with his own hands into his guests' very mouths. I never shall forget the look of poor Diddloff, when his Excellency, rolling up a large quantity of this into a ball and exclaiming, " Buk Buk " (it is very good), administered the horrible bolus to Diddloff. The Russian's eyes rolled dreadfully as he received it : he swallowed it with a grimace that I thought must precede a convulsion, and seizing a bottle next him, which he thought was Sauterne, but which turned out to be French brandy, he drank off nearly a pint before he knew his error. It finished him ; he was carried away from the dining-room almost dead, and laid out to cool in a summer-house on the Bosphorus. When it came to my turn, I took down the condiment with a smile, said " Bismillah," licked my lips with easy gratification, and when the next dish was served, made up THE BOOK OF. SNOBS. 321 a ball myself so dexterously, and popped it down the old Galeougee's mouth with so much grace, that his heart was won. Russia was put out of court at once, and the treaty of Kabobanople was signed. As for Diddloff, all was over with him : he was recalled to St. Petersburg, and Sir Rod- erick Murchison saw him, under the No. 3967, working in the Ural mines. The moral of this tale, I need not say, is, that there are many disagreeable things in society which you are bound to take down, and to do so with a smiling face. CHAPTEE II. THE SNOB ROYAL. ONG- since, at the commencement of the reign of her present Gra- cious Majesty, it chanced "on a fair summer evening," as Mr. James would say, that three or four young cavaliers were drinking a cup of wine after dinner at the hos- telry called the "King's Arms," kept by Mistress Anderson, in the royal village of Kensington. 'Twas a balmy evening, and the wayfarers looked out on a cheerful scene. The tall elms of the ancient gardens were in full leaf, and countless chariots of the nobility of England whirled by to the neigh- boring palace, where princely Sussex (whose income latterly only allowed him to give tea-parties) entertained his royal niece at a state banquet. When the caroches of the nobles had set down their owners at the banquet-hall, their varlets and servitors came to quaff a flagon of nut-brown ale in the " King's Arms " gardens hard by. We watched these fel- lows from our lattice. By Saint Boniface, 'twas a rare sight ! The tulips in Mynheer Van Dunck's gardens were not more gorgeous than the liveries of these pie-coated retain- ers. All the flowers of the field bloomed in their ruffled bosoms, all the hues of the rainbow gleamed in their plush 322 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 323 breeches, and the long-caned ones walked up and down the garden with that charming solemnity, that delightful quivering swagger of the calves, which has always had a frantic fascination for us. The walk was not wide enough for them as the shoulder-knots strutted up and down it in canary, and crimson, and light blue. Suddenly, in the midst of their pride, a little bell was rung, a side door was opened, and (after setting down their Koyal Mistress) her Majesty's own crimson footmen, with epaulets and black plushes, came in. It was pitiable to see the other poor Johns slink off at this arrival ! Not one of the honest private Plushes could stand up before the Eoyal Flunkies. They left the walk : they sneaked into dark holes and drank their beer in silence. The Eoyal Plush kept possession of the garden until the Eoyal Plush dinner was announced, when it retired, and we heard from the pavilion where they dined, conservative cheers, and speeches, and Kentish fires. The other Flunkies we never saw more. My dear Flunkies, so absurdly conceited at one moment and so abject at the next, are but the types of their masters in this world. He who meanly admires mean things is a Snob perhaps that is a safe definition of the character. And this is why I have, with the utmost respect, ven- tured to place The Snob Eoyal at the head of my list, caus- ing all others to give way before him, as the Flunkies before the royal representative in Kensington Gardens. To say of such and such a Gracious Sovereign that he is a Snob, is but to say that his Majesty is a man. Kings, too, are men and Snobs. In a country where Snobs are in the majority, a prime one, surely, cannot be unfit to govern. "With us they have succeeded to admiration. For instance, James I. was a Snob, and a Scotch Snob, than which the world contains no more offensive creature. He appears to have had not one of the good qualities of a man neither courage, nor generosity, nor honesty, nor brains; but read what the great Divines and Doctors of England said about him ! Charles II., his grandson, was a rogue, but not a Snob ; whilst Louis XIV., his old square- toes of a contemporary, the great worshipper of Bigwig- gery has always struck me as a most undoubted and Eoyal Snob. I will not, however, take instances from our own country of Eoyal Snobs, but refer to a neighboring kingdom, that 324 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. of Brentford and its monarch, the late great and lamented Gorgius IV. With the same humility with which the foot- men at the "King's Arms" gave way before the Plush Royal, the aristocracy of the Brentford nation bent down and truckled before Gorgius, and proclaimed him the first gentleman in Europe. And it's a wonder to think what is the gentlefolks' opinion of a gentleman, when they gave Gorgius such a title. What is it to be a gentleman ? Is it to be honest, to be gentle, to be generous, to be brave, to be wise, and, possess- ing all these qualities, to exercise them in the most grace- ful outward manner? Ought a gentleman to be a loyal son, a true husband, and honest father ? Ought his life to be decent his bills to be paid his tastes to be high and elegant his aims in life lofty and noble ? In a word, ought not the Biography of a First Gentleman in Europe to be of such a nature that it might be read in Young Ladies' Schools with advantage, and studied with profit in the Seminaries of Young Gentlemen ? I put this question to all instructors of youth to Mrs. Ellis and the Women of England ; to all schoolmasters, from Doctor Hawtrey down to Mr. Squeers. I conjure up before me an awful tribunal of youth and innocence, attended by its venerable instruc- tors (like the ten thousand red-cheeked charity-children in Saint Paul's), sitting in judgment, and Gorgius pleading his cause in the midst. Out of Court, out of Court, fat old Florizel! Beadles, turn out that bloated, pimple-faced man ! If Gorgius must have a statue in the new Palace which the Brentford nation is building, it ought to be set up in the Flunkies' Hall. He should be represented cut- ting out a coat, in which art he is said to have excelled. He also invented Maraschino punch, a shoe-buckle (this was in the vigor of his youth, and the prime force of his in- vention), and a Chinese pavilion, the most hideous building in the world. He could drive a four-in-hand very nearly as well as the Brighton coachman, could fence elegantly, and, it is said, played the fiddle well. And he smiled with such irresistible fascination, that persons who were introduced into his august presence became his victims, body and soul, as a rabbit becomes the prey of a great big boa-constrictor. I would wager that if Mr. Widdicomb were, by a revolu- tion, placed on the throne of Brentford, people would be equally fascinated by his irresistibly majestic smile, and tremble as they knelt down to kiss his hand. If he went to THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 325 Dublin they would erect an obelisk on the spot where he first landed, as the Paddylanders did when Gorgius visited them. We have all of us read with delight that story of the King's voyage to Haggisland, where his presence in- spired such a fury of loyalty ; and where the most famous man of the country the Baron of Bradwardine coming on board the royal yacht, and finding a glass out of which Gorgius had drunk, put it into his coat-pocket as an inesti- mable relic, and went ashore in his boat again. But the Baron sat down upon the glass and broke it, and cut his coat-tails very much ; and the inestimable relic was lost to the world forever. noble Bradwardine ! what old-world superstition could set you on your knees before such an idol as that ? If you want to moralize upon the mutability of human affairs, go and see the figure of Gorgius in his real, iden- tical robes, at the wax- work. Admittance one shilling. Children and flunkies sixpence. Go, and pay sixpence. CHAPTER III. THE INFLUENCE OF THE ARISTOCRACY ON SNOBS. AST Sunday week, being at church in this city, and the service just ended, I heard two Snobs convers- ing about the Parson. One was asking the other who the clergy- man was ? " He is Mr. So-and- so," the second Snob answered, " domestic chaplain to the Earl of What-d'ye-call'im." Oh, is he ? " said the first Snob, with a tone of indescribable satisfaction. The "" Parson's orthodoxy and identity were at once settled in this Snob's mind. He knew no more about the Earl than about the Chaplain, but he took the latter's character upon the authority of the former ; and went home quite contented with his reverence, like a little truckling Snob. This incident gave me more matter for reflection even than the sermon : and wonderment at the extent and prev- alence of Lordolatry in this country. What could it matter to Snob whether his Reverence were Chaplain to his Lordship or not? What Peerage-worship there is all through this free country ! How we are all implicated in it, and more or less down on our knees. And with regard to the great subject on hand, I think that influence of the Peerage upon Snobbishness has been more remarkable than that of any other institution. The increase, encourage- ment, and maintenance of snobs are among the "priceless services," as Lord John Russell says, which we owe to the nobility. It can't be otherwise. A man becomes enormously rich, or he jobs successfully in the aid of a Minister, or he wins a great battle, or executes a treaty, or is a clever lawyer who makes a multitude of fees and ascends the bench ; and the country rewards him forever with a gold coronet (with THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 327 more or less balls or leaves), and a title, and a rank as legis- lator. "Your merits are so great," says the nation, "that your children shall be allowed to reign over us, in a manner. It does not in the least matter that your eldest son be a fool : we think your services so remarkable, that he shall have the reversion of your honors when death vacates your noble shoes. If you are poor, we will give you such a sum of money as shall enable you and the eldest-born of your race forever to live in fat and splendor. It is our wish that there should be a race set apart in this happy country, who shall hold the first rank, have the first prizes and chances in all government jobs and patronages. We cannot make all your dear children Peers that would make Peer- age common and crowd the House of Lords uncomfortably but the young ones shall have everything a Government can give : they shall get the pick of all the places : they shall be Captains and Lieutenant-Colonels at nineteen, when hoary-haired old lieutenants are spending thirty years at drill: they shall command ships at one-and-twenty, and veterans who fought before they were born. And as we are eminently a free people, and in order to encourage all men to do their duty, we say to any man of any rank get enormously rich, make immense fees as a lawyer, or great speeches, or distinguish yourself and win battles and you, even you, shall come into the privileged class, and your children shall reign naturally over ours." How can we help snobbishness, with such a prodigious national institution erected for its worship ? How can we help cringing to Lords. Flesh and blood can't do other- wise. What man can withstand this prodigious temptation ? Inspired by what is called a noble emulation, some people grasp at honors and win them ; others, too weak or mean, blindly admire and grovel before those who have gained them ; others, not being able to acquire them, furiously hate, abuse, and envy. There are only a few bland and not- in-the-least-conceited philosophers, who can behold the state of society, viz., Toadyism, organized: base Man-and-Mam- mon worship, instituted by command of law : Snobbish- ness, in a word, perpetuated, and mark the phenomenon calmly. And of these calm moralists, is there one, I won- der, whose heart would not throb with pleasure if he could be seen walking arm-in-arm with a couple of dukes down Pall Mall? No: it is impossible, in our condition of society, not to be sometimes a Snob. 328 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. On one side it encourages the commoner to be snobbishly mean, and the noble to be snobbishly arrogant. When a noble marchioness writes in her travels about the hard necessity under -which steamboat travellers labor of being brought into contact "with all sorts and conditions of people " : implying that a fellowship with God's creatures is disagreeable to her Ladyship, who is their superior: when, I say, the Marchioness of writes in this fashion, we must consider that out of her natural heart it would have been impossible for any woman to have had such a sentiment ; but that the habit of truckling and cringing, which all who surrounded her have adopted towards this beautiful and magnificent lady, this proprietor of so many black and other diamonds, has really induced her to believe that she is the superior of the world in general : and that people are not to associate with her except awfully at a distance. I recollect being once at the city of Grand Cairo, through which a European Eoyal Prince was passing India-wards. One night at the inn there was a great dis- THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 329 turbance : a man had drowned himself in the well hard by : all the inhabitants of the hotel came bustling into the Court, and amongst others your humble servant, who asked of a certain young man the reason of the disturbance. How was I to know that this young gent was a prince ? He had not his crown and sceptre on : he was dressed in a white jacket and felt hat: but he looked surprised at anybody speaking to him : answered an unintelligible monosyllable, and beckoned his aide-de-camp to come and speak to me. It is our fault, not that of the great, that they should fancy themselves so far above us. If you will fling yourself under the wheels, Juggernaut will go over you, depend upon it ; and if you and I, my dear friend, had Kotoo per- formed before us every day, found people whenever we appeared grovelling in slavish adoration, we should drop into the airs of superiority quite naturally, and accept the greatness with which the world insisted upon endowing us. Here is an instance, out of Lord L 's travels, of that calm, good-natured, undoubting way in which a great man accepts the homage of his inferiors. After making some profound and ingenious remarks about the town of Brussels, his lordship says : " Staying some days at the Hotel de Belle Vue a greatly overrated establishment, and not nearly so comfortable as the Hotel de France I made ac- quaintance with Dr. L , the physician of the Mission. He was desirous of doing the honor of the place to me, and he ordered for us a diner en gourmand at the chief restau- rateur's, maintaining it surpassed the Kocher at Paris. Six or eight partook of the entertainment, and we all agreed it was infinitely inferior to the Paris display, and much more extravagant. So much for the copy." And so much for the gentleman who gave the dinner. Dr. L , desirous to do his lordship " the honor of the place," feasts him with the best victuals money can procure and my lord finds the entertainment extravagant and in- ferior. Extravagant! it was not extravagant to him; Inferior ! Mr. L did his best to satisfy those noble jaws, and my lord receives the entertainment, and dismisses the giver with a rebuke. It is like a three-tailed Pasha grumbling about an unsatisfactory backsheesh. But how should it be otherwise in a country where Lord- olatry is part of our creed, and where our children are brought up to respect the " Peerage " as the Englishman's second Bible ? CHAPTEE IV. "THE COURT CIRCULAR," AND ITS INFLUENCE ON SNOBS. XAMPLEis the best of precepts ; so let us begin with a true and authe n t i c story show- i n g how young aris- toc r at i c snobs are reared, and how early their Snob- bishness may be made to bloom. A beautiful and fashionable young lady (pardon, gracious madam, that your story should be made public ; but it is so moral that it ought to be known to the universal world ) told me that in her early youth she had a little acquaintance, who is now indeed a beautiful and fashionable lady too. In mentioning Miss Snobky, daughter of Sir Snobby Snobky, whose pre- sentation at Court caused such a sensation, need I say more ? When Miss Snobky was so very young as to be in the nursery regions, and to walk of early mornings in St. James's Park, protected by a French governess and fol- lowed by a huge hirsute flunky in the canary -colored livery of the Snobkys, she used occasionally in these promenades to meet with young Lord Claude Lollipop, the Marquis of Sillabub's younger son. In the very height of the season, from some unexplained cause, the Snobkys suddenly deter- 330 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 331 mined upon leaving town. Miss Snobky spoke to her female friend and confidante. " What will poor Claude Lol- lipop say when he hears of my absence ? " asked the tender- hearted child. " Oh, perhaps he won't hear of it/' answers the confi- dante. " My dear, he will read it in the papers," replied the dear little fashionable rogue of seven years old. She knew al- ready her importance, and how all the world of England, how all the would-be-genteel people, how all the silver-fork worshippers, how all the tattle-mongers, how all the gro- cers' ladies, the tailors' ladies, the attorneys' and merchants' ladies, and the people living at Clapharn and Brunswick Square, who have no more chance of consorting with a Snobky than my beloved reader has of dining with the Em- peror of China yet watched the movements of the Snob- kys with interest, and were glad to know when they came to London and left it. Here is the account of Miss Snobky's dress, and that of her mother, Lady Snobky, from the papers : "MISS SNOBKY. " Habit de Cour, composed of a yellow nankeen illusion dress over a slip of rich pea-green corduroy, trimmed en tablier, with bouquets of Brussels sprouts : the body and sleeves handsomely trimmed with calimanco, and festooned with a pink train and white radishes. Head-dress, carrots and lappets. "LADY SNOBKY. " Costume de Cour, composed of a train of the most su- perb Pekin bandannas, elegantly trimmed with spangles, tin- foil, and red-tape. Bodice and under-dress of sky-blue vel- veteen, trimmed with bouffants and noeuds of bell-pulls. Stomacher, a muffin. Head-dress, a bird's nest, with a bird of paradise, over a rich brass knocker en ferroniere. This splendid costume by Madame Crinoline, of Eegent Street, was the object of universal admiration." This is what you read. Oh, Mrs. Ellis ! Oh, mothers, daughters, aunts, grandmothers of England, this is the sort of writing which is put in the newspapers for you ! How 332 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. can you help being the mothers, daughters, &c., of Snobs, so long as this balderdash is set before you ? You stuff the little rosy foot of a Chinese young lady of fashion into a slipper that is about the size of a salt-cruet, and keep the poor little toes there imprisoned and twisted up so long that the dwarfishness becomes irremediable. Later, the foot would not expand to the natural size were you to give her a washing-tub for a shoe, and for all her life she has little feet, and is a cripple. Oh, my dear Miss Wiggins, thank your stars that those beautiful feet of yours though I declare when you walk they are so small as to be almost invisible thank your stars that society never so practised upon them; but look around and see how many friends of ours in the highest circles have had their brains so prematurely and hopelessly pinched and distorted. How can you expect that those poor creatures are to move naturally when the world and their parents have mu- tilated them so cruelly ? As long as a Court Circular ex- ists, how the deuce are people whose names are chronicled in it ever to believe themselves the equals of the cringing race which daily reads that abominable trash ? I believe that ours is the only country in the world now where the Court Circular remains in full flourish where you read, " This day his Royal Highness Prince Pattypan was taken an airing in his go-cart." " The Princess Piinminy was taken a drive, attended by her ladies of honor, and accom- panied by her doll," &c. We laugh at the solemnity with which Saint Simon announces that Sa Hajeste se medica- mente aujourd' hui. Under our very noses the same folly is daily going on. That wonderful and mysterious man, the author of the Court Circular, drops in with his budget at the newspaper offices every night. I once asked the editor of a paper to allow me to lie in wait and see him. I am told that in a kingdom where there is a German King-Consort (Portugal it must be, for the Queen of that country married a German Prince, who is greatly admired and respected by the natives), whenever the Consort takes the diversion of shooting among the rabbit-warrens of Cin- tra, or the pheasant-preserves of Mafra, he has a keeper to load his guns, as a matter of course, and then they are handed to the nobleman, his equerry, and the nobleman hands them to the Prince, who blazes away gives back the discharged gun to the nobleman, who gives it to the THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 333 keeper, and so on. But the Prince won't take the gun from the hands of the loader. As long as this unnatural and monstrous etiquette con- tinues, Snobs there must be. The three persons engaged in this transaction are, for the time being, Snobs. 1. The keeper the least Snob of all, because he is dis- charging his daily duty ; but he appears here as a Snob, that is to say, in a position of debasement, before another human being (the Prince), with whom he is only allowed to communicate through another party. A free Portuguese gamekeeper, who professes himself to be unworthy to com- municate directly with any person, confesses himself to be a Snob. 2. The nobleman in waiting is a Snob. If it degrades the Prince to receive the gun from the gamekeeper, it is de- grading to the nobleman in waiting to execute that service. He acts as a Snob towards the keeper, whom he keeps from communication with the Prince a Snob towards the Prince, to whom he pays a degrading homage. 3. The King-Consort of Portugal is a Snob for insulting fellow-men in this way. There's no harm in his accepting the services of the keeper directly ; but indirectly he insults the service performed, and the two servants who perform it; and therefore, I say, respectfully, is a most undoubted, though royal Sn-b. And then you read in the Diario do Goberno " Yester- day, his Majesty the king took the diversion of shooting in the woods of Cintra, attended by Colonel the Honorable Whiskerando Sombrero. His Majesty returned to the Necessidades to lunch, at," &c., &c. Oh ! that Court Circular ! once more, I exclaim. Down with the Court Circular that engine and propagator of Snobbishness ! I promise to subscribe for a year to any daily paper that shall come out without a Court Circular were it the Morning Herald itself. When I read that trash, I rise in my wrath ; I feel myself disloyal, a regicide, a member of the Calf's Head Club. The only Court Circu- lar story which ever pleased me, was that of the King of Spain, who in great part was roasted, because there was not time for the Prime Minister to command the Lord Cham- berlain to desire the Grand Gold Stick to order the first page in waiting to bid the chief of the flunkies to request 334 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. the Housemaid of Honor to bring up a pail of water to put his Majesty out. I am like the Pasha of three tails, to whom the Sultan sends his Court Circular, the bowstring. It chokes me. May its usage be abolished forever. CHAPTER V. WHAT SNOBS ADMIKE. OW let us consider how diffi- cult it is even for great men to escape from being Snobs. It is very well for the reader, whose fine feelings are dis- gusted by the assertion that Kings, Princes, Lords, are Snobs, to say, "You are con- fessedly a Snob yourself. In professing to depict Snobs, it is only your own ugly mug which you are copying with a Narcissus-like conceit and fatuity." But I shall pardon this explosion of ill-temper on the part of my constant reader, reflecting upon the misfortune of his birth and country. It is impossible for any Briton, perhaps, not to be a Snob in some degree. If people can be convinced of this fact, an immense point is gained, surely. If I have pointed out the disease, let us hope that other scientific characters may discover the remedy. If you, who are a person of the middle ranks of life, are a Snob, you whom nobody flatters particularly ; you who have no toadies ; you whom no cringing flunkies or shop- men bow out of doors ; you whom the policeman tells to move on ; you who are jostled in the crowd of this world, and amongst the Snobs our brethren : consider how much harder it is for a man to escape who has not your advan- tages, and is all his life long subject to adulation; the butt of meanness ; consider how difficult it is for the Snobs' idol not to be a Snob. As I was discoursing with my friend Eugenio in this impressive way, Lord Buckram passed on, the son of the Marquis of Bagwig, and knocked at the door of the family mansion in Ked Lion Square. His noble father and mother 335 336 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. occupied, as everybody knows, distinguished posts in the Courts of late Sovereigns. The Marquis was Lord of the Pantry, and her Ladyship, Lady of the Powder Closet to Queen Charlotte. Buck (as I call him, for we are very familiar) gave me a nod as he passed, and I proceeded to show Eugenio how it was impossible that this nobleman should not be one of ourselves, having been practised upon by Snobs all his life. His parents resolved to give him a public education, and sent him to school at the earliest possible period. The Reverend Otto Rose, D. D., Principal of the Preparatory Academy for young noblemen and gentlemen, Richmond Lodge, took this little Lord in hand, and fell down and worshipped him. He always introduced him to fathers and mothers who came to visit their children at the school. He referred with pride and pleasure to the most noble the Marquis of Bagwig, as one of the kind friends and patrons of his Seminary. He made Lord Buckram a bait for such a multiplicity of pupils, that a new wing was built to Rich- mond Lodge, and thirty-five new little white dimity beds were added to the establishment. Mrs. Rose used to take out the little Lord in the one-horse chaise with her when she paid visits, until the Rector's lady and the Surgeon's wife almost died with envy. His own son and Lord Buck- ram having been discovered robbing an orchard together, the Doctor flogged his own flesh and blood most unmer- cifully for leading the young Lord astray. He parted from him with tears. There was always a letter directed to the Most Xoble the Marquis of Bagwig, on the Doctor's study table, when any visitors were received by him. At Eton, a great deal of Snobbishness was thrashed out of Lord Buckram, and he was birched with perfect impar- tiality. Even there, however, a select band of sucking tuft-hunters followed him. Young Croesus lent him three- and-twenty bran new sovereigns out of his father's bank. Young Snaily did his exercises for him, and tried " to know him at home " ; but young Bull licked him in a fight of fifty-five minutes, and he was caned several times with great advantage for not sufficiently polishing his master Smith's shoes. Boys are not all toadies in the morning of life. But when he went to the University, crowds of toadies sprawled over him. The tutors toadied him. The fellows in hall paid him great clumsy compliments. The Dean THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 337 never remarked his absence from Chapel, or heard any noise issuing from his rooms. A number of respectable young fellows (it is among the respectable, the Baker Street class, that Snobbishness nourishes, more than among any set of people in England) a number of these clung to him like leeches. There was no end now to Croesus's loans of money ; and Buckram couldn't ride out with the hounds, but Snaily (a timid creature by nature) was in the field, and would take any leap at which his friend chose to ride. Young Rose came up to the same College, having been kept back for that express purpose by his father. He spent a quarter's allowance in giving Buckram a single dinner ; but he knew there was always pardon for him for extravagance in such a cause; and a ten-pound note always came to him from home when he mentioned Buckram's name in a letter. What wild visions entered the brains of Mrs. Podge and Miss Podge, the wife and daughter of the Principal of Lord Buckram's College, I don't know, but that reverend old gentleman was too profound a flunky by nature ever for one minute to think that a child of his could marry a nobleman. He therefore hastened on his daughter's union with Professor Crab. When Lord Buckram, after taking his honorary degree (for Alma Mater, is a Snob, too, and truckles to a Lord like the rest), when Lord Buckram went abroad to finish his education, you all know what dangers he ran, and what numbers of caps were set at him. Lady Leach and her daughters followed him from Paris to Eome, and from Home to Baden-Baden ; Miss Leggitt burst into tears before his face when he announced his determination to quit Naples, and fainted on the neck of her mamma; Captain Macdragon, of Macdragonstown, county Tipperary, called upon him to "explene his intintions with respect to his sisther, Miss Amalia Macdragon, of Macdragonstown," and proposed to shoot him unless he married that spotless and beautiful young creature, who was afterwards led to the altar by Mr. Muff, at Cheltenham. If perseverance and forty thousand pounds down could have tempted him, Miss Lydia Crossus would certainly have been Lady Buckram. Count Towrowski was glad to take her with half the money, as all the genteel world knows. And now, perhaps, the reader is anxious to know what sort of a man this is who wounded so many ladies' hearts, and who has been such a prodigious favorite with men. If 22 338 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. we were to describe him. it would be personal. Besides, it really does not matter in the least what sort of a man he is, or what his personal qualities are. Suppose he is a young nobleman of a literary turn, and that he published poems ever so foolish and feeble, the Snobs would purchase thousands of his volumes : the pub- lishers (who refused my Passion-Flowers, and my grand Epic at any price) would give him his own. Suppose he is a nobleman of a jovial turn, and has a fancy for wrenching off knockers, frequenting gin-shops, and half murdering policemen ; the public will sympathize good-naturedly with his amusements, and say he is a hearty, honest fellow. Suppose he is fond of play and the turf, and has a fancy to be a blackleg, and occasionally condescends to pluck a pigeon at cards; the public will pardon him, and many honest people will court him, as they would court a house- breaker if he happened to be a Lord. Suppose he is an idiot ; yet, by the glorious constitution, he is good enough to govern us. Suppose he is an honest, high-minded gen- tleman ; so much the better for himself. But he may be an ass, and yet respected ; or a ruffian, and yet be exceed- ingly popular ; or a rogue, and yet excuses will be found for him. Snobs will still worship him. Male Snobs will do him honor, and females look kindly upon him, however hideous he may be. CHAPTER VI. ON SOME RESPECTABLE SNOBS. AVING received a great deal of oblo- quy for dragging monarchs, princes, and the respected nobility into the Snob category, I trust to please everybody in the present chapter, by stating my firm opinion that it is among the respectable classes of this vast and happy empire that the greatest profusion of Snobs is to be found. I pace down my beloved Baker Street (I am engaged on a life of Baker, founder of this cele- brated street), I walk in Harley Street (where every other house has a hatchment), Wim- pole Street, that is as cheerful as the Catacombs a dingy Mausoleum of the genteel : I rove round Regent's Park, where the plaster is patching off the house walls ; where Methodist preachers are holding forth to three little chil- dren' in the green enclosures, and puffy valetudinarians are cantering in the solitary mud : I thread the doubtful zig-zags of May Fair, where Mrs. Kitty Lorimer's brougham may be seen drawn up next door to old Lady Lollipop's belozenged family coach : I roam through Belgravia, that pale and polite district, where all the inhabitants look prim and correct, and the mansions are painted a faint whity- brown : I lose myself in the new squares and terraces of the brilliant bran-new Bayswater-and-Tyburn-Junction line ; and in one and all of these districts the same truth comes across me. I stop before any house at hazard, and say, " house, you are inhabited knocker, you are knocked at undressed flunky, sunning your lazy calves as you lean against the iron railings, you are paid by Snobs." It is a tremendous thought that ; and it is almost sufficient 340 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. to drive a benevolent mind to madness to think that per- haps there is not one in ten of those houses where the " Peerage " does not lie on the drawing-room table. Con- sidering the harm, that foolish lying book does, I would have all the copies of it burned, as the barber burned all Quixote's books of humbugging chivalry. Look at this grand house in the middle of the square. The Earl of Loughcorrib lives there : he has fifty thousand a year. A dejeuner dansant given at his house last week cost, who knows how much ? The mere flowers for the room and bouquets for the ladies cost four hundred pounds. That man in drab trousers, coming crying down the steps, is a dim: Lord Loughcorrib has ruined him, and won't see him : that is, his lordship is peeping through the blind of his study at him now. Go thy ways, Loughcorrib, thou art a Snob, a heartless pretender, a hypocrite of hospitality ; a rogue who passes forged notes upon society ; but I am growing too eloquent. You see that fine house, No. 23, where a butcher's boy is ringing the area-bell. He has three mutton-chops in his tray. They are for the dinner of a very different and very respectable family ; for Lady Susan Scraper, and her daugh- ters, Miss Scraper and Miss Emily Scraper. The domestics, luckily for them, are on board wages two huge footmen in light blue and canary, a fat steady coachman who is a Methodist, and a butler who would never have stayed in the family but that he was orderly to General Scraper when the General distinguished himself at Walcheren. His widow sent his portrait to the United Service Club, and it is hung up in one of the back dressing-closets there. He is represented at a parlor window with red curtains ; in the distance is a whirlwind, in which cannon are firing off ; and he is pointing to a chart, on which are written the words "Walcheren, Tobago." Lady Susan is, as everybody knows by referring to the " British Bible," a daughter of the great and good Earl Bagwig before mentioned. She thinks everything belong- ing to her the greatest and best in the world. The first of men naturally are the Buckrams, her own race : then follow in rank the Scrapers. The General was the greatest gen- eral : his eldest son, Scraper Buckram Scraper, is at pres- ent the greatest and best ; his second son the next greatest and best ; and herself the paragon of women. Indeed, she is a most respectable and honorable lady. THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 341 She goes to church of course : she would fancy the Church in danger if she did not. She subscribes to the church and parish charities; and is a directress of many meritorious charitable institutions of Queen Charlotte's Lying-in Hospital, the Washerwomen's Asylum, the British Drum- mers' Daughters' Home, &c., &c. She is a model of a matron. The tradesman never lived who could say that his bill was not paid on the quarter-day. The beggars of her neighborhood avoid her like a pestilence; for while she walks oiit, protected by John, that domestic has always two or three mendicity tickets ready for deserving objects. Ten guineas a year will pay all her charities. There is no respectable lady in all London who gets her name more often printed for such a sum of money. Those three mutton-chops which you see entering at the 342 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. kitchen-door will be served on the family plate at seven o'clock this evening, the huge footman being present, and the butler in black, and the crest and coat-of-arms of the Scrapers blazing everywhere. I pity Miss Emily Scraper she is still young young and hungry. Is it a fact that she spends her pocket-money in buns ? Malicious tongues say so ; but she has very little to spare for buns, the poor little hungry soul ! For the fact is, that when the footmen, and the ladies'-maids, and the fat coach-horses, which are jobbed, and the six dinner-parties in the season, and the two great solemn evening-parties, and the rent of the big house, and the journey to an English or foreign watering- place for the autumn, are paid, my lady's income has dwindled away to a very small sum, and she is as poor as you or I. You would not think it when you saw her big carriage rattling up to the drawing-room, and caught a glimpse of her plumes, lappets, and diamonds, waving over her ladyship's sandy hair and majestical hooked nose; you would not think it when you hear " Lady Susan Scraper's carriage" bawled out at midnight so as to disturb all Belgravia; you would not think it when she comes rustling into church, the obsequious John behind with the bag of Prayer-books. Is it possible, you would say, that so grand and awful a personage as that can be hard-up for money ? Alas ! so it is. She never heard such a word as Snob, I will engage, in this wicked and vulgar world. And, stars and garters ! how she would start if she heard that she she, as solemn as Minerva she, as chaste as Diana (without that heathen goddess's unladylike propensity for field-sports) that she too was a Snob. A Snob she is, as long as she sets that prodigious value upon herself, upon her name, upon her outward appearance, and indulges in that intolerable pomposity ; as long as she goes parading abroad, like Solomon in all his glory; as long as she goes to bed as I believe she does with a turban and a bird of paradise in it, and a court train to her nightgown; as long as she is so insufferably virtuous and condescending; as long as she does not cut at least one of those footmen down into mutton-chops for the bene- fit of the young ladies. I had my notions of her from my old school-fellow, her son Sidney Scraper a Chancery barrister without any THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 343 practice the most placid, polite, and genteel of Snobs, who never exceeded his allowance of two hundred a year, and who may be seen any evening at the " Oxford and Cambridge Club," simpering over the Quarterly Review, in the blameless enjoyment of his half -pint of port. CHAPTER VII. . ON SOME RESPECTABLE SNOBS. OOK at the next house to Lady Susan Scraper's. The first man- sion with the awning over the door ; that canopy will be let down this evening for the comfort of the friends of Sir Alured and Lady S. de Mogyns, whose parties are so much admired by the public and the givers themselves. Peach-colored liveries laced with silver, and pea-green plush inex- pressibles, render the De Mogyns's flunkies the pride of the ring when they appear in Hyde Park, where Lady de Mogyns, as she sits upon her satin cushions, with her dwarf spaniel in her arms, only bows to the very selectest of the genteel. Times are altered now with Mary Anne, or, as she calls herself, Marian de Mogyns. She was the daughter of Captain Flack of the Rathdrum Fencibles, who crossed with his regiment over from Ireland to Caermarthenshire ever so many years ago, and defended Wales from the Corsican invader. The Rathdrums were quartered at Pontydwdlm, where Marian wooed and won her De Mogyns, a young banker in the place. His atten- tions to Miss Flack at a race ball were such that her father said De Mogyns must either die on the field of honor, or become his son-in-law. He preferred marriage. His name was Muggins then, and his father a flourishing banker, army-contractor, smuggler, and general jobber almost disinherited him on account of this connection. There is a story that Muggins the Elder was made a baronet for having lent money to a R-y-1 p-rs-n-ge. I do not believe it. The R-y-1 Family always paid their debts, from the Prince of Wales downwards. 344 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 345 Howbeit, to his life's end he remained simple Sir Thomas Muggins, representing Pontydwdlm in Parliament for many years after the war. The old banker died in course of time, and, to use the affectionate phrase common on such occa- sions, " cut up " prodigiously well. His son, Alfred Smith Mogyns, succeeded to the main portion of his wealth, and to his titles and the bloody hand of his scutcheon. It was not for many years after that he appeared as Sir Alured Mogyns Smyth de Mogyns, with a genealogy found out for him by the Editor of " Fluke's Peerage," and which appears as follows in that work : " De Mogyns. Sir Alured Mogyns Smyth, 2d Baronet. This gentleman is a representative of one of the most ancient families of Wales, who trace their descent until it is lost in the mists of antiquity. A genealogical tree beginning with Shem is in the possession of the family, and is stated by a legend of many thousand years' date to have been drawn on papyrus by a grandson of the patriarch himself. Be this as it may, there can be no doubt of the immense antiquity of the race of Mogyns. " In the time of Boadicea, Hogyn Mogyn, of the hundred Beeves, was a suitor and a rival of Caractacus for the hand of that Princess. He was a person gigantic in stature, and was slain by Suetonius in the battle which terminated the liberties of Britain. From him de- scended directly the Princes of Pontydwdlm, Mogyn of the Golden Harp (see the Mabinogion of Lady Charlotte Guest), Bogyn-Merodac- ap-Mogyn (the black fiend son of Mogyn), and a long list of bards and warriors, celebrated both in Wales and Armorica. The indepen- dent Princes of Mogyn long held out against the ruthless Kings of England, until finally Gam Mogyns made his submission to Prince Henry, son of Henry IV., and under the name of Sir David Gam de Mogyns, was distinguished at the battle of Agincourt. From him the present Baronet is descended. (And here the descent follows in order until it comes to) Thomas Muggins, first Baronet of Pontydwdlm Castle, for 23 years Member of Parliament for that borough, who had issue, Alured Mogyns Smyth, the present Baronet, who married Marian, daughter of the late General P. Flack, of Ballyflack, in the Kingdom of Ireland, of the Counts Flack of the H. R. Empire. Sir Alured has issue, Alured Caradoc, born 1819, Marian, 1811, Blanche Adeliza, Emily Doria, Adelaide Obleans, Katinka Eostop- chin, Patrick Flack died 1809. "Arms a mullion garbled, gules on a saltire reversed of the second. Crest a torn-tit rampant regardant. Motto Uny Boy ung Mogyns." It was long before Lady de Mogyns shone as a star in the fashionable world. At first, poor Muggins was in the hands of the Flacks, the Clancys, the Tooles, the Shanahans, his wife's Irish relations; and whilst he was yet but heir- apparent, his house overflowed with claret and the national 346 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. nectar, for the benefit of his Hibernian relatives. Tom Tufto absolutely left the street in which they lived in London, because he said " it was infected with such a con- founded smell of whiskey from the house of those Iiuish people." It was abroad that they learned to be genteel. They pushed into all foreign courts, and elbowed their way into the halls of Ambassadors. They pounced upon the stray nobility, and seized young lords travelling with their bear-leaders. They gave parties at Naples, Rome, and Paris. They got a royal Prince to attend their soirees at the latter place, and it was here that they first appeared under the name of De Mogyns, which they bear with such splendor to this day. All sorts of stories are told of the desperate efforts made by the indomitable Lady de Mogyns to gain the place she now occupies, and those of my beloved readers who live in middle life, and are unacquainted with the frantic strug- gles, the wicked feuds, the intrigues, cabals, and disappoint- ments which, as I am given to understand, reign in the fashionable world, may bless their stars that they at least are not fashionable Snobs. The intrigues set afoot by the De Mogyns to get the Duchess of Buckskin to her parties, would strike a Talleyrand with admiration. She had a brain fever after being disappointed of an invitation to Lady Aldermanbury's the dansant, and would have com- mitted suicide but for a ball at Windsor. I have the fol- lowing story from my noble friend Lady Clapperclaw herself, Lady Kathleen O'Shaughnessy that was, and daughter of the Earl of Turfanthunder : " When that ojous disguised Irishwoman, Lady Muggins, was struggling to take her place in the world, and was bringing out her hidjous daughter Blanche," said old Lady Clapperclaw " (Marian has a humpback and doesn't show, but she's the only lady in the family) when that wretched Polly Muggins was bringing out Blanche, with her radish of a nose, and her carrots of ringlets, and her turnip for a face, she was most anxious as her father had been a cow- boy on my father's land to be patronized by us, and asked me point-blank, in the midst of a silence at Count Volauvent's, the French Ambassador's dinner, why I had not sent her a card for my ball ? " ( Because my rooms are already too full, and your lady- ship would be crowded inconveniently,' says I ; indeed she THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 347 takes up as much room as an elephant : besides I wouldn't have her, and that was flat. " I thought my answer was a settler to her : but the next day she comes weeping to my arms ' Dear Lady Clapper- claw/ says she, 'it's not for me; I ask it for my blessed Blanche ! a young creature in her first season, and not at your ball ! My tender child will pine and die of vexation. / don't want to come. / will stay at home to nurse Sir Alured in the gout. Mrs. Bolster is going, I know ; she will be Blanche's chaperon.' " ' You wouldn't subscribe for the Kathdrum blanket and potato fund ; you, who come out of the parish,' says I, ' and whose grandfather, honest man, kept cows there.' " ' Will twenty guineas be enough, dearest Lady Clapper- claw ? ' " ' Twenty guineas is sufficient,' says I, and she paid them : so I said, ' Blanche may come, but not you, mind J : and she left me with a world of thanks. " Would you believe it ? when my ball came, the horrid woman made her appearance with her daughter ! ' Didn't I tell you not to come ? ' said I, in a mighty passion. ' What would the world have said ? ' cries my Lady Mug- gins : ' my carriage has gone for Sir Alured to the Club ; let me stay only ten minutes, dearest Lady Clapperclaw.' " ' Well, as you are here, madam, you may stay and get your supper,' I answered, and so left her, and never spoke a word more to her all night. " And now, screamed out old Lady Clapperclaw, clapping her hands, and speaking with more brogue than ever, "what do you think, after all my kindness to her, the wicked, vulgar, odious, impudent upstart of a cow-boy's granddaughter, has done ? she cut me yesterday in Hy' Park, and hasn't sent me a ticket for her ball to-night, though they say Prince George is to be there." Yes, such is the fact. In the race of fashion the resolute and active De Mogyns has passed the poor old Clapperclaw. Her progress in gentility may be traced by the sets of friends whom she has courted, and made, and cut, and left behind her. She has struggled so gallantly for polite reputation that she has won it: pitilessly kicking down the ladder as she advanced degree by degree. Her Irish relations were first sacrificed ; she made her father dine in the steward's room, to his perfect content- ment: and would send Sir Alured thither likewise, but 348 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. that lie is a peg on which she hopes to hang her future honors ; and is, after all, paymaster of her daughter's for- tunes. He is meek and content. He has been so long a gentleman that he is used to it, and acts the part of governor very well. In the daytime he goes from the " Union " to " Arthur's," and from " Arthur's " to the " Union." He is a dead hand at piquet, and loses a very comfortable maintenance to some young fellows, at whist, at the " Travellers." His son has taken his father's seat in Parliament, and has of course joined Young England. He is the only man in the country who believes in the de Mogynses, and sighs for the days when a De Mogyns led the van of battle. He has written a little volume of spooney puny poems. He wears a lock of the hair of Laud, the Confessor and Martyr, and fainted when he kissed the Pope's toe at Rome. He sleeps in white kid gloves, and commits dan- gerous excesses upon green tea. CHAPTEE VIII. GREAT CITY SNOBS. HEKE is no disguising the fact that this series of papers is mak- ing a prodigious sensation among all classes in this Empire. Notes of admiration (!), of interroga- tion (?), of remonstrance, ap- proval, or abuse, come pouring into Mr, Punch's box. We have been called to task for betraying the secrets of three different families of De Mogyns ; no less than four Lady Susan Scrapers have been discovered ; and young gentlemen are quite shy of order- ing half a pint of port and sim- pering over the Quarterly Review at the Club, lest they should be mistaken for Sydney Scraper, Esq. "What can be your an- tipathy to Baker Street?" asks some fair remonstrant, evidently writing from that quarter. "Why only attack the aristo- cratic Snobs ? " says one estimable correspondent : " are not the snobbish Snobs to have their turn ? " " Pitch into the University Snobs ! " writes an indignant gentle- man (who spells elegant with two Z's). "Show up the Clerical Snob," suggests another. " Being at ' Meurice's Hotel,' Paris, some time since," some wag hints, " I saw Lord B. leaning out of the window with his boots in his hand, and bawled out, ' Gar$on, cirez-moi ces bottes.' Oughtn't he to be brought in among the Snobs ? " No ; far from it. If his lordship's boots are dirty, it is because he is Lord B., and walks. There is nothing snob- 349 350 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. bish in having only one pair of boots, or a favorite pair ; and certainly nothing snobbish in desiring to have them cleaned. Lord B., in so doing, performed a perfectly natural and gentlemanlike action ; for which I am so pleased with him that I have had him designed in a favorable and ele- gant attitude, and put at the head of this Chapter in the place of honor. Xo, we are not personal in these candid remarks. As Phidias took the pick of a score of beauties before he completed a Venus, so have we to examine perhaps, a thousand Snobs, before one is expressed upon paper. Great City Snobs are the next in the hierachy, and ought to be considered. But here is a difficulty. The Great City Snob is commonly most difficult of access. Unless you are a capitalist, you cannot visit him in the recesses of his bank parlor in Lombard Street. Unless you are a sprig of nobility, there is little hope of seeing him at home. In a great City Snob firm there is generally one partner whose name is down for charities, and who frequents Exeter Hall ; you may catch a glimpse of another (a scientific City Snob) at my Lord 1ST 's soirees, or the lectures of the London Institution ; of a third (a City Snob of taste) at picture-auctions, at private views of exhibitions, or at the Opera or the Philharmonic. But intimacy is impossible, in most cases, with this grave, pompous, and awful being. A mere gentleman may hope to sit at almost anybody's table to take his place at my lord duke's in the country to dance a quadrille at Buckingham Palace itself (be- loved Lady Wilhelmina Waggle-wiggle ! do you recollect the sensation we made at the ball of our late adored Sovereign Queen Caroline, at Brandenburg House, Ham- mersmith ?) but the city Snob's doors are, for the most part, closed to him ; and hence all that one knows of this great class is mostly from hearsay. In other countries of Europe, the Banking Snob is more expansive and communicative than with us, and receives all the world into his circle. For instance, everybody knows the princely hospitalities of the Scharlaschild family at Paris, Xaples, Frankfort, &c. They entertain all the world, even the poor, at their fetes. Prince Polonia, at Eome, and his brother, the Duke of Starchino, are also remarkable for their hospitalities. I like the spirit of the first-named nobleman. Titles not costing much in the Roman territory, he has had the head clerk of the banking- THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 351 house made a Marquis, and his Lordship will screw a bajocco out of you in exchange as dexterously as any commoner could do. It is a comfort to be able to gratify such grandees with a farthing or two ; it makes the poorest man feel that he can do good. The Polonias have inter- married with the greatest and most ancient families of Borne, and you see their heraldic cognizance (a mushroom or on an azure field) quartered in a hundred places in the city, with the arms of the Colonnas and Dorias. Our City Snobs have the same mania for aristocratic marriages. I like to see such. I am of a savage and envious nature, I like to see these two humbugs which, dividing, as they do, the social empire of this kingdom between them, hate each other naturally, making truce and uniting, for the sordid interests of either. I like to see an old aristocrat, swelling with pride of race, the de- scendant of illustrious Norman robbers, whose blood has been pure for centuries, and who looks down upon common Englishmen as a free-born American does on a nigger, I like to see old Stiffneck obliged to bow down his head and swallow his infernal pride, and drink the cup of humiliation poured out by Pump and Aldgate's butler. "Pump and Aldgate," says he, "your grandfather was a bricklayer, and his hod is still kept at the bank. Your pedigree begins in a workhouse; mine can be dated from all the royal palaces of Europe. I came over with the Conqueror; I am own cousin to Charles Martel, Orlando Furioso, Philip Augustus, Peter the Cruel, and Frederick Barbarossa, I quarter the Eoyal Arms of Brentford in my coat. I despise you, but I want money; and I will sell you my beloved daughter, Blanche Stiffneck, for a hundred thousand pounds, to pay off my mortgages. Let your son marry her, and she shall become Lady Blanche Pump and Aldgate ! " Old Pump and Aldgate clutches at the bargain. And a comfortable thing it is to think that birth can be bought for money. So you learn to value it. Why should we, who don't possess it, set a higher store on it than those who do? Perhaps the best use of that book, the "Peer- age," is to look down the list, and see how many have bought and sold birth, how poor sprigs of nobility somehow sell themselves to rich City Snobs' daughters how rich City Snobs purchase noble ladies and so to admire the double baseness of the bargain. 352 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. Old Pump and Aldgate buys the article and pays the money. The sale of the girl's person is blessed by a Bishop at St. George's, Hanover Square, and next year you read, " At Eoehampton, on Saturday, the Lady Blanche Pump of a son and heir." After this interesting event, some old acquaintance, who saw young Pump in the parlor at the bank in the City, said to him, familiarly, "How's your wife, Pump, my boy ? " Mr. Pump looked exceedingly puzzled and disgusted, and, after a pause, said, "Lady Blanche Pump is pretty well, I thank you." " Oh, I thought she was your wife ! " said the familiar brute, Snooks, wishing him good-bye; and ten minutes after, the story was all over the Stock Exchange, where it is told, when young Pump appears, to this very day. We can imagine the weary life this poor Pump, this martyr to Mammon, is compelled to undergo. Fancy the domestic enjoyments of a man who has a wife who scorns him ; who cannot see his own friends in his own house ; who, having deserted the middle rank of life, is not yet admitted to the higher ; but who is resigned to rebuffs and delay and humiliation, contented to think that his son will be more fortunate. It used to be the custom of some very old-fashioned clubs in this city, when a gentleman asked for change for a guinea, always to bring it to him in washed silver: that which had passed immediately out of the hands of the vulgar being considered "as too coarse to soil a gentle- man's fingers." So, when the City Snob's money has been washed during a generation or so ; has been washed into estates, and woods, and castles, and town-mansions, it is allowed to pass current as real aristocratic coin. Old Pump sweeps a shop, runs of messages, becomes a confi- dential clerk and partner. Pump the second becomes chief of the house, spins more and more money, mar- ries his son to an Earl's daughter. Pump Tertius goes on with the bank: but his chief business in life is to become the father of Pump Quartus, who comes out a full-blown aristocrat, and takes his seat as Baron Purnp- ington, and his race rules hereditarily over this nation of Snobs. CHAPTER IX. ON SOME MILITARY SNOBS. AS no society in the world is more agreeable than that of well-bred and well-informed military gentlemen, so, like- wise, none is more insuffer- able than that of Military Snobs. They are to be found of all grades, from the General Officer, whose padded old breast twinkles over with a score of stars, clasps, and decorations, to the budding cornet who is shaving for a beard, and has just been appointed to the Saxe-Coburg Lancers. I have always admired that dispensation of rank in our country, which sets up this last-named little crea- ture (who was flogged only last week because he could not spell) to command great whiskered warriors, who have faced all dangers of climate and battle ; which, because he has money to lodge at the agent's, will place him over the heads of men who have a thousand times more experience and desert : and which, in the course of time, will bring him all the honors of his profession, when the veteran soldier he commanded has got no other reward for his bravery than a berth in Chelsea Hospital, and the veteran officer he superseded has slunk into shabby retirement, and ends his disappointed life on a threadbare half-pay. When I read in the Gazette such announcements as " Lieutenant and Captain Grig, from the Bombardier Guards, 23 353 354 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. to be Captain, vice Grizzle, who retires," I know what becomes of the Peninsular Grizzle ; I follow him in spirit to the humble country town, where he takes up his quar- ters, and occupies himself with the most desperate attempts to live like a gentleman, on the stipend of half a tailor's foreman ; and I picture to myself little Grig rising from rank to rank, skipping from one regiment to another, with an increased grade in each, avoiding disagreeable foreign service, and ranking as a colonel at thirty ; all because he has money, and Lord Grisgby is his father, who had the same luck before him. Grig must blush at first to give his orders to old men in every way his betters. And as it is very difficult for a spoiled child to escape being selfish and arro- gant, so it is a very hard task indeed for this spoiled child of fortune not to be a Snob. It must have often been a matter of wonder to the candid reader, that the army, the most enormous job of all our political institxitions, should yet work so well in the field : and we must cheerfully give Grig, and his like, the credit for courage which they display whenever occasion calls for it. The Duke's dandy regiments fought as well as any (they said better than any, but that is absurd). The great Duke himself was a dandy once, and jobbed on, as Marlborough did before him. But this only proves that dandies are brave as well as other Britons as all Britons. Let us concede that the high-born Grig rode into the entrenchments at Sobraon as gallantly as Corporal Wallop, the ex-ploughboy. The times of war are more favorable to him than the periods of peace. Think of Grig's life in the Bombardier Guards, or the Jack-boot Guards ; his marches from Wind- sor to London, from London to Windsor, from Knights- bridge to Kegent's Park ; the idiotic services he has to perform, which consist in inspecting the pipeclay of his company, or the horses in the stable, or bellowing out " Shoulder humps ! Carry humps ! " all which duties the very smallest intellect that ever belonged to mortal man would suffice to comprehend. The professional duties of a footman are quite as difficult and various. The red- jackets who hold gentlemen's horses in St. James's Street could do the work just as well as those vacuous, good- natured, gentlemanlike, rickety little lieutenants, who may be seen sauntering about Pall Mall, in high-heeled little boots, or rallying round the standard of their regiment in THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 355 the Palace Court, at eleven o'clock, when the band plays. Did the beloved reader ever see one of the young fellows staggering under the flag, or, above all, going through the operation of saluting it? It is worth a walk to the Palace to witness that magnificent piece of tomfoolery. I have had the honor of meeting once or twice an old gentleman, whom I look upon to be a specimen of arniy- training, and who has served in crack regiments, or com- manded them, all his life. I allude to Lieutenant-General the Honorable Sir George Granby Tufto, K.C.B., K.T.S., K.H., K.S.W., &c., &c. His manners are irreproachable generally ; in society he is a perfect gentleman, and a most thorough Snob. A man can't help being a fool, be he ever so old, and Sir George is a greater ass at sixty-eight than he was when he first entered the army at fifteen. He distinguished himself everywhere : his name is mentioned with praise in a score of Gazettes : he is the man, in fact, whose padded breast, twinkling over with innumerable decorations, has already been introduced to the reader. It is difficult to say what virtues this prosperous gentleman possesses. He never read a book in his life, and, with his purple, old gouty fin- gers, still writes a schoolboy hand. He has reached old age and gray hairs without being the least venerable. He dresses like an outrageously young man to the present moment, and laces and pads his old carcass as if he were still handsome George Tufto of 1800. He is selfish, brutal, passionate, and a glutton. It is curious to mark him at table, and see him heaving in his waistband, his little blood- shot eyes gloating over his meal. He swears considerably in his talk, and tells filthy garrison stories after dinner. On account of his rank and his services, people pay the bestarred and betitled old brute a sort of reverence ; and he looks down upon you and me, and exhibits his contempt for us, with a stupid and artless candor which is quite amusing to watch. Perhaps, had he been bred to another profession, he would not have been the disreputable old creature he now is. But what other ? He was fit for none ; too incor- rigibly idle and dull for any trade but this, in which he has distinguished himself publicly as a good and gallant officer, and privately for riding races, drinking port, fighting duels, and seducing women. He believes himself to be one of the most honorable and deserving beings in the world. About Waterloo Place, of afternoons, you may see him. tottering in 356 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. his varnished boots, and leering under the bonnets of the women who pass by. When he dies of apoplexy, The Times will have a quarter of a column about his services and battles four lines of print will be wanted to describe his titles and orders alone and the earth will cover one of the wick- edest and dullest old wretches that ever strutted over it. Lest it should be imagined that I am of so obstinate a misanthropic nature as to be satisfied with nothing, I beg (for the comfort of the forces) to state my belief that the army is not composed of such persons as the above. He has only been selected for the study of civilians and the military, as a specimen of a prosperous and bloated army Snob. No : when epaulets are not sold ; when corporal punishments are abolished, and Corporal Smith has a chance to have his gallantry rewarded as well as that of Lieutenant Grig ; when there is no such rank as ensign and lieutenant (the existence of which rank is an absurd anomaly, and an insult upon all the rest of the army), and should there be no war, I should not be disinclined to be a major- general myself. I have a little sheaf of Army Snobs in my portfolio, but shall pause in my attack upon the forces till next week. CHAPTEE X. MILITARY SNOBS. ALKINGr in the Park yesterday with my young friend Tagg, and discours- ing with him upon the next number of the Snob, at the very nick of time who should pass us but two very good specimens of Military Snobs, the Sporting Military Snob, Capt. Rag, and the "larking" or raffish Military Snob, Ensign Famish. In- deed you are fully sure to meet them lounging on horseback, about five o'clock, under the trees by the Ser- pentine, examining critically the in- mates of the flashy broughams which parade up and down "the Lady's Mile." Tagg and Rag are very well acquainted, and so the former, with that candor inseparable from intimate friendship, told me his dear friend's history. Captain Rag is a small dap- per north-country man. He went when quite a boy into a crack light cavalry regiment, and by the time he got his troop, had cheated all his brother officers so completely, selling them lame horses for sound ones, and winning their money by all manner of strange and ingenious contrivances, that his Colonel advised him to retire ; which he did with- out much reluctance, accommodating a youngster, who had just entered the regiment, with a glandered charger at an uncommonly stiff figure. He has since devoted his time to billiards, steeple-chas- ing, and the turf. His head-quarters are " Rummer's," in Conduit Street, where he keeps his kit ; but he is ever on the move in the exercise of his vocation as a gentleman- jockey and gentleman-leg. According to Bell's Life, he is an invariable attendant at all races, and an actor in most of them. He rode the win- 357 358 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. ner at Leamington ; he was left for dead in a ditch a fort- night ago at Harrow ; and yet there he was, last week, at the Croix de Berny, pale and determined as ever, astonish- ing the badauds of Paris by the elegance of his seat and the neatness of his rig, as he took a preliminary gallop on that vicious brute "The Disowned," before starting for "the French Grand National." He is a regular attendant at the Corner, where he com- piles a limited but comfortable libretto. During the season he rides often in the park, mounted on a clever, well-bred pony. He is to be seen escorting that celebrated horse- woman, Fanny Highflyer, or in confidential converse with Lord Thiinblerig, the eminent handicapper. He carefully avoids decent society, and would rather dine off a steak at the " One Tun " with Sam Snaffle the jockey, Captain O'Eourke, and two or three other notorious turf rob- bers, than with the choicest company in London. He likes to announce at " Rummer's " that he is going to run down and spend his Saturday and Sunday in a friendly way with Hocus, the leg, at his little box near Epsom : where, if report speak true, many " rummish plants " are concocted. He does not play billiards often, and never in public : but when he does play, he always contrives to get hold of a good flat, and never leaves him till he has done him uncommonly brown. He has lately been playing a good deal with Fam- ish. When he makes his appearance in the drawing-room, which occasionally happens at a hunt-meeting or a race-ball, he enjoys himself extremely. His young friend is Ensign Famish, who is not a little pleased to be seen with such a smart fellow as Eag, who bows to the best turf company in the Park. Eag lets Famish accompany him to TattersalFs and sells him bar- gains in horseflesh, and uses Famish's cab. That young gentleman's regiment is in India, and he is at home on sick leave. He recruits his health by being intoxicated every night, and fortifies his lungs, which are weak, by smoking cigars all day. The policemen about the Haymarket know the little creature, and the early cabmen salute him. The closed doors of fish and lobster shops open after service, and vomit out little Famish, who is either tipsy and quarrel- some when he wants to fight the cabmen ; or drunk and helpless when some kind friend (in yellow satin) takes care of him. All the neighborhood, the cabmen, the police, THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 359 the early potato-men, and the friends in yellow satin, know the young fellow, and he is called Little Bobby by some of the very worst reprobates in Europe. His mother, Lady Fanny Famish, believes devotedly that Kobert is in London solely for the benefit of consulting the physician ; is going to have him exchanged into a dragoon regiment, which doesn't go to that odious India ; and has an idea that his chest is delicate, and that he takes gruel every evening, when he puts his feet in hot water. Her Ladyship resides at Cheltenham, and is of a serious turn. Bobby frequents the "Union-Jack Club" of course; where he breakfasts on pale ale and devilled kidneys at three o'clock ; where beardless young heroes of his own sort congregate, and make merry, and give each other dinners ; where you may see half a dozen of young rakes of the fourth or fifth order lounging and smoking on the steps ; where you behold Slapper's long-tailed leggy mare in the custody of a red-jacket until the Captain is'primed for the Park with a glass of curaqoa ; and where you see Hobby, of the Highland Buffs, driving up with Dobby, of the Madras Fusileers, in the great banging, swinging cab, which the lat- ter hires from Rumble of Bond Street. In fact, Military Snobs are of such number and variety, that a hundred weeks of Punch would not suffice to give an audience to them. There is, besides the disreputable old Military Snob, who has seen service, the respectable old 360 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. Military Snob, who has seen none, and gives himself the most prodigious Martinet airs. There is the Medical-Mili- tary Snob, who is generally more outrageously military in his conversation than the greatest sabreur in the army. There is the Heavy-Dragoon Snob, whom young ladies admire, with his great stupid pink face and yellow mous- taches a vacuous, solemn, foolish, but brave and honor- able Snob. There is the Amateur-Military Snob, who writes Captain on his card, because he is a Lieutenant in the Bungay Militia. There is the Lady-killing Military Snob ; and more, who need not be named. But let no man, we repeat, charge Mr. Punch with disre- spect for the Army in general that gallant and judicious Army, every man of which, from F. M. the Duke of Wel- lington, &c., downwards (with the exception of H. E. H. Field-Marshal Prince Albert, who, however, can hardly count as a military man) reads Punch in every quarter of the globe. Let those civilians who sneer at the acquirements of the Army read Sir Harry Smith's account of the battle of Ali- wal. A noble deed was never told in nobler language. And you who doubt if chivalry exists, or the age of her- oism has passed by, think of Sir Henry Hardinge, with his son, " dear little Arthur," riding in front of the lines at Ferozeshah. I hope no English painter will endeavor to illustrate that scene ; for who is there to do justice to it ? The history of the world contains no more brilliant and heroic picture. No, no ; the men who perform these deeds with such brilliant valor, and describe them with such mod- est manliness such are not Snobs. Their country admires them, their Sovereign rewards them, and Punch, the uni- versal railer, takes off his hat and says, Heaven save them ! CHAPTER XI. ON CLERICAL SNOBS. FTER Snobs-Military, Snobs-Cler- ical suggest themselves quite nat- urally, and it is clear that, with every respect for the cloth, yet having a regard for truth, human- ity, and the British public, such a vast and influential class must not be omitted from our notices of the great Snob world. Of these Clerics there are some whose claim to snobbishness is un- doubted, and yet it cannot be dis- cussed here ; for the same reason that Punch would not set up his show in a Cathedral, out of re- spect for the solemn service cele- brated within. There are some places where he acknowledges himself not privileged to make a noise, and puts away his show, and silences his drum, and takes off his hat, and holds his peace. And I know this, that if there are some Clerics who do wrong, there are straightway a thousand newspapers to haul up those unfortunates, and cry, " Fie upon them, fie upon them ! " while, though the press is always ready to yell and bellow ex-communication against these stray delinquent parsons, it somehow takes very little count of the many good ones of the tens of thousands of honest men who lead Christian lives, who give to the poor generously, who deny themselves rigidly, and live and die in their duty without even a newspaper paragraph in their favor. My beloved friend and reader, I wish you and I could do the same : and let me whisper my belief, entre noiis, that of those eminent philosophers who cry out against parsons the 361 362 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. loudest, there are not many who have got their knowledge of the church by going thither often. But you who have ever listened to village bells, or have walked to church as children on sunny Sabbath mornings ; you who have ever seen the parson's wife tending the poor man's bedside ; or the town clergyman threading the dirty stairs of noxious alleys upon his sacred business ; do not raise a shout when one of these falls away, or yell with the mob that howls after him. Every man can do that. When old Father Noah was overtaken in his cups, there was only one of his sons that dared to make merry at his disaster, and he was not the most virtuous of the family. Let us too turn away silently, nor huzza like a parcel of school-boys, because some big young rebel suddenly starts up and whops the schoolmaster. I confess, though, if I had by me the names of those seven or eight Irish bishops, the probates of whose wills were mentioned in last year's journals, and who died leav- ing behind them some two hundred thousand pounds apiece I would like to put them up as patrons of my Clerical Snobs, and operate upon them as successfully as I see from the newspapers Mr. Eisenberg, Chiropodist, has lately done upon " His Grace the Eight Reverend Lord Bishop of Tap- ioca." And I confess that when those Right Reverend Prelates come up to the gates of Paradise with their probates of wills in their hands, I think that their chance is .... But the gates of Paradise is a far way to follow their Lord- ships ; so let us trip down again, lest awkward questions be asked there about our own favorite vices too. And don't let us give way to the vulgar prejudice, that clergymen are an overpaid and luxurious body of men. When that eminent ascetic, the late Sydney Smith (by the way, by what law of nature is it that so many Smiths in this world are called Sydney Smith ?) lauded the sys- tem of great prizes in the Church, without which he said gentlemen would not be induced to follow the clerical pro- fession, he admitted most pathetically that the clergy in general were by no means to be envied for their worldly prosperity. From reading the works of some modern writ- ers of repute, you would fancy that a parson's life was passed in gorging himself with plum-pudding and port- wine ; THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 363 and that his Reverence's fat chaps were always greasy with the crackling of tithe pigs. Caricaturists delight to repre- sent him so : round, short-necked, pimple-faced, apoplectic, bursting out of waistcoat like a black-pudding, a shovel-hat- ted fuzz-wigged Silenus. Whereas, if you take the real man, the poor fellow's flesh-pots are very scantily furnished with meat. He labors commonly for a wage that a tailor's foreman would despise : he has, too, such claims upon his dismal income as most philosophers would rather grumble to meet ; many tithes are levied upon his pocket, let it be remembered, by those who grudge him his means of liveli- hood. He has to dine with the Squire, and his wife must dress neatly ; and he must " look like a gentleman," as they call it, and bring up his six great hungry sons as such. Add to this, if he does his duty, he has such temptations to spend his money as no mortal man could withstand. Yes ; you who can't resist purchasing a chest of cigars be- cause they are so good ; or an ormolu clock at Howell and James's, because it is such a bargain; or a box at the Opera, because Lablache and Grisi are divine in the Puri- tani ; fancy how difficult it is for a parson to resist spend- ing a half-crown when John Breakstone's family are without a loaf ; or " standing " a bottle of port for dear old Polly Eabbits, who has her thirteenth child ; or treating himself to a suit of corduroys for little Bob Scarecrow, whose breeches are sadly out at elbows. Think of these temp- tations, brother moralists and philosophers, and don't be too hard on the parson. But what is this ? Instead of " showing up " the par- sons, are we indulging in maudlin praises of that monstrous black-coated race ? O saintly Francis, lying at rest under the turf ; Jimmy, and Johnny, and Willy, friends of my youth ! noble and dear old Elias ! how should he who knows you not respect you and your calling ? May this pen never write a pennyworth again, if it ever casts ridi- cule upon either. CHAPTEE XII. ON CLERICAL SNOBS AND SNOBBISHNESS. EAR Mr. Snob," an amiable young correspondent writes, who signs himself Snobling, " ought the clergyman who, at the request of a noble Duke, lately interrupted a marriage ceremony between two per- sons perfectly authorized to marry, to be ranked or not among the Clerical Snobs ? " This, my dear young friend, is not a fair question. One of the illustrated weekly papers has already seized hold of the clergjunan, and blackened him most unmercifully, by repre- senting him in his cassock performing the marriage service. Let that be sufficient punishment ; and, if you please, do not press the query. It is very likely that if Miss Smith had come with a li- cense to marry Jones, the parson in question, not seeing old Smith present, would have sent off the beadle in a cab to let the old gentleman know what was going on ; and would have delayed the service until the arrival of Smith senior. He very likely thinks it his duty to ask all mar- riageable young ladies, who come without their papa, why their parent is absent ; and, no doubt, always sends off the beadle for that missing governor. Or, it is very possible that the Duke of Cceurdelion was Mr. What-d'ye-call-'im's most intimate friend, and has often said to him, " What-d'ye-call-'im, my boy, my daughter must never marry the Capting. If ever they try at your church, I beseech you, considering the terms of intimacy on which we are, to send off Kattan in a hack-cab to fetch me/ 364 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 365 In either of which cases, you see, dear Snobling, that though the parson would not have been authorized, yet he might have been excused for interfering. He has no more right to stop my marriage than to stop my dinner, to both of which, as a free-born Briton, I am entitled by law, if I can pay for them. But consider pastoral solicitude, a deep sense of the duties of his office, and pardon this inconven- ient, but genuine zeal. But if the clergyman did in the Duke's case what he would not do in Smith's ; if he has no more acquaintance with the Coeurdelion family than I have with the Royal and Serene House of Saxe-Coburg Gotha, then, I confess, my dear Snobling, your question might elicit a disagreeable reply, and one which I respectfully decline to give. I won- der what Sir George Tufto would say, if a sentry left his post because a noble lord (not in the least connected with the service) begged the sentinel not to do his duty ! Alas ! that the beadle who canes little boys and drives them out, cannot drive worldliness out too ; and what is worldliness but snobbishness ? When, for instance, I read in the newspapers that the Right Reverend the Lord Charles James administered the rite of confirmation to a party of the juvenile nobility at the Chapel Royal, as if the Chapel Royal were a sort of ecclesiastical Almack's, and young people were to get ready for the next world in little exclusive genteel knots of the aristocracy, who were not to be disturbed in their journey thither by the company of the vulgar : when I read such a paragraph as that (and one or two such generally appear during the present fashion- able season), it seems to me to be the most odious, mean, and disgusting part of that odious, mean, and disgusting publication, the Court Circular ; and that snobbishness is therein carried to quite an awful pitch. What, gentlemen, can't we even in the Church acknowledge a republic? There, at least, the Heralds' College itself might allow that we all of us have the same pedigree, and are direct descendants of Eve and Adam, whose inheritance is divided amongst us. I hereby call upon all Dukes, Earls, Baronets, and other potentates, not to lend themselves to this shameful scandal and error, and beseech all Bishops who read this publication to take the matter into consideration, and to protest against the continuance of the practice, and to declare, " We won't confirm or christen Lord Tomnoddy, or Sir Carnaby Jenks, 366 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. to the exclusion of any other young Christian " ; the which declaration if their Lordships are induced to make, a great lapis offensionis will be removed, and the Snob Papers will not have been written in vain. A story is current of a celebrated nouvecw-riche, who having had occasion to oblige that excellent prelate the Bishop of Bullocksmithy, asked his Lordship, in return, to confirm his children privately in his Lordship's own chapel ; which ceremony the grateful prelate accordingly performed. Can satire go farther than this ? Is there, even in this most amusing of prints, any more na'ive absurdity ? It is as if a man wouldn't go to heaven unless he went in a special train, or as if he thought (as some people think about vaccination) Confirmation more effectual when admin- istered at first hand. When that eminent person, the Begum Sumroo, died, it is said she left ten thousand pounds to the Pope, and ten thousand to the Archbishop of Canter- bury, so that there should be no mistake, so as to make sure of having the ecclesiastical authorities on her side. This is only a little more openly and undisguisedly snob- bish than the cases before alluded to. A well-bred Snob is just as secretly proud of his riches and honors as a, parvenu Snob who makes the most ludicrous exhibition of them ; and a high-born Marchioness or Duchess just as vain of her- self and her diamonds, as Queen Quashyboo, who sews a pair of epaulets on to her skirt, and turns out in state in a cocked hat and feathers. It is not out of disrespect to my " Peerage," which I love and honor (indeed, have I not said before, that I should be ready to jump out of my skin if two Dukes would walk down Pall Mall with me ?) it is not out of disrespect for the individuals, that I wish these titles had never been invented ; but, consider, if there were no tree, there would be no shadow ; and how much more honest society would be, and how much more serviceable the clergy would be (which is our present consideration), if these temptations of rank and continual baits of worldliness were not in exist- ence, and perpetually thrown out to lead them astray. I have seen many examples of their falling away. "When for instance, Tom Sniffle first went into the country as Curate for Mr. Fuddleston (Sir Huddleston Fuddleston's brother), who resided on some other living, there could not be a more kind, hard-working, and excellent creature than Tom. He had his aunt to live with him. His conduct to THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 367 his poor was admirable. He wrote annually reams of the best-intentioned and most vapid sermons. When Lord Brandyball's family first came down into the country, and invited him to dine at Brandy ball Park, Sniffle was so agitated that he almost forgot how to say grace, and upset a bowl of currant-jelly sauce in Lady Fanny Toffy's lap. What was the consequence of his intimacy with that noble family ? He quarrelled with his aunt for dining out every night. The wretch forgot his poor altogether, and killed his old nag by always riding over to Brandyball; where he revelled in the maddest passion for Lady Fanny. He ordered the neatest new clothes and ecclesiastical waist- coats from London ; he appeared with corazza-shirts, lac- quered boots and perfumery ; he bought a blood-horse from Bob Toffy ; was seen at archery meetings, public breakfasts, actually at cover ; and, I blush to say, that I saw him in a stall at the Opera ; and afterwards riding by Lady Fanny's side in E-otten Bow. He double-barrelled his name (as many poor Snobs do), and instead of T. Sniffle, as formerly, came out, in a porcelain card, as Kev. T. D'Arcy Sniffle, Burlington Hotel. The end of all this may be imagined : when the Earl of Brandyball was made acquainted with the curate's love for Lady Fanny, he had that fit of the gout which so nearly carried him off (to the inexpressible grief of his son, Lord Alicompayne), and uttered that remarkable speech to Sniffle, which disposed of the claims of the latter: "If I didn't respect the Church, Sir," his lordship said, " by Jove, I'd kick you down stairs " : his Lordship then fell back into the fit aforesaid ; and Lady Fanny, as we all know, married General Podager. As for poor Tom, he was over head and ears in debt as well as in love : his creditors came down upon him. Mr. Hemp, of Portugal Street, proclaimed his name lately as a reverend outlaw ; and he has been seen at various foreign watering-places ; sometimes doing duty ; sometimes " coach- ing " a stray gentleman's son at Carlsruhe or Kissingen ; sometimes must we say it ? lurking about the roulette- tables with a tuft to his chin. If temptation had not come upon this unhappy fellow in the shape of a Lord Brandyball, he might still have been following his profession, humbly and worthily. He might have married his cousin with four thousand pounds, the wine-merchant's daughter (the old gentleman quarrelled 368 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. with his nephew for not soliciting wine-orders from Lord B. for him) : he might have had seven children, and taken private pupils, and eked out his income, and lived and died a country parson. Could he have done better? You who want to know how great, and good, and noble such a character may be, read Stanley's " Life of Doctor Arnold." CHAPTER XIII. ON CLERICAL SNOBS. AMONG the varieties of the Snob Clerical, the University Snob and the Scholastic Snob ought never to be forgotten ; they form a very strong battalion in the black-coated army. The wisdom of our ancestors (which I admire more and more every day) seemed to have de- termined that the education of youth was so paltry and unimpor- tant a matter, that almost any man armed wiiL a birch and a regulation cassock and de- gree, might undertake the charge : and many an honest country gentleman may be found to the present day, who takes very good care to have a character with his butler when he engages him, and will not purchase a horse with- out the strongest warranty and the closest inspection : but sends off his son, young John Thomas, to school without asking any questions about the Schoolmaster, and places the lad at Switchester College, under Doctor Block, because he (the good old English gentleman) had been at Switchester, under Doctor Buzwig, forty years ago. We have a love for all little boys at school ; for many scores of thousands of them read and love Punch : may he never write a word that shall not be honest and fit for them to read ! He will not have his young friends to be Snobs in the future, or to be bullied by snobs, or given over to such to be educated. Our connection with the youth at the Universities is very close and affectionate. The candid undergraduate is our friend. The pompous old College Don trembles in his common room, lest we should attack him and show him up as a Snob. When railroads were threatening to invade the land 24 369 370 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. which they have since conquered, it may be recollected what a shrieking and outcry the authorities of Oxford and Eton made, lest the iron abominations should come near those seats of pure learning, and tempt the British youth astray. The supplications were in vain ; the railroad is in upon them, and the old world institutions are doomed. I felt charmed to read in the papers the other day a most veracious puffing advertisement headed, " To College and back for Five Shillings." " The College Gardens (it said) will be thrown open on this occasion ; the College youths will perform a regatta ; the Chapel of King's College will have its celebrated music " ; and all for five shillings ! The Goths have got into Rome ; Napoleon Stephenson draws his republican lines round the sacred old cities; and the ecclesiastical big-wigs who garrison them must prepare to lay down key and crosier before the iron conqueror. If you consider, dear reader, what profound snobbishness the University System produced, you will allow that it is time to attack some of those feudal middle-age superstitions. If you go down for five shillings to look at the " College Youths," you may see one sneaking down the court with- out a tassel to his cap ; another with a gold or silver fringe to his velvet trencher ; a third lad with a master's gown and hat, walking at ease over the sacred College grass-plats, which common men must not tread on. He may do it because he is a nobleman. Because a lad is a lord, the University gives him a degree at the end of two years which another is seven in acquiring. Because he is a lord, he has no call to go through an examination. Any man who has not been to College and back for five shillings, would not believe in such distinctions in a place of education, so absurd and monstrous do they seem to be. The lads with gold and silver lace are sons of rich gentle- men, and called Fellow Commoners ; they are privileged to feed better than the pensioners, and to have wine with their victuals, which the latter can only get in their rooms. The unlucky boys who have no tassels to their caps, are called sizars servitors at Oxford (a very pretty and gentlemanlike title). A distinction is made in their clothes because they are poor; for which reason they wear a badge of poverty, and are not allowed to take their meals with their fellow-students. When this wicked and shameful distinction was set up, it was of a piece with all the rest a part of the brutal, THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 371 unchristian, blundering feudal system. Distinctions of rank were then so strongly insisted upon, that it would have been thought blasphemy to doubt them, as blasphe- mous as it is in parts of the United States now for a nigger to set up as the equal of a white man. A ruffian like Henry VIII. talked as gravely about the divine powers vested in him, as if he had been an inspired prophet. A wretch like James I. not only believed that there was in himself a particular sanctity, but other people believed him. Government regulated the length of a merchant's shoes as well as meddled with his trade, prices, exports, machinery. It thought itself justified in roasting a man for his religion, or pulling a Jew's teeth out if he did not pay a contribu- tion, or ordered him to dress in a yellow gabardine, and locked him in a particular quarter. 372 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. Now a merchant may wear what boots he pleases, and has pretty nearly acquired the privilege of buying and selling without the Government laying its paws upon the bargain. The stake of heretics is gone ; the pillory is taken down ; Bishops are even found lifting up their voices against the remains of persecution, and ready to do away with the last Catholic Disabilities. Sir Robert Peel, though he wished it ever so much, has no power over Mr. Benjamin Disraeli's grinders, or any means of violently handling that gentleman's jaw. Jews are not called upon to wear badges : on the contrary, they may live in Picca- dilly, or the Minories, according to fancy ; they may dress like Christians, and do sometimes in a most elegant and fashionable manner. Why is the poor College servitor to wear that name and that badge still ? Because Universities are the last places into which Reform penetrates. But now that she can go to College and back for five shillings, let her travel down thither. CHAPTEE XIV. ON UNIVERSITY SNOBS. . LL the men of Saint Boniface ^ k. /k will recognize Hugby and Crump in these two pictures. They were tutors in our time, and Crump is since advanced to be President of the College. He was formerly, and is now, a rich specimen of a University Snob. At five-and-twenty, Crump in- vented three new metres, and published an edition of an ex- ceedingly improper Greek Com- edy, with no less than twenty emendations upon the German text of Schnupfenius and Schnapsius. These services to religion instantly pointed him out for advancement in the Church, and he is now President of Saint Boniface, and very narrowly escaped the bench. Crump thinks Saint Boniface the centre of the world, and his position as President the highest in England. He expects the fellows and tutors to pay him the same sort of service that Cardinals pay to the Pope. I am sure Growler would have no objection to carry his trencher, or Page to hold up the skirts of his gown as he stalks into chapel. He roars out the responses there as if it were an honor to heaven that the President of Saint Boniface should take a part in the service, and in his own lodge and college acknowledges the Sovereign only as his superior. When the allied monarchs came down, and were made Doctors of the University, a breakfast was given at Saint Boniface ; on which occasion Crump allowed the Emperor Alexander to walk before him, but took the pas himself of the King of Prussia and Prince Blucher. He was going to 373 374 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. put the Hettnan Platoff to breakfast at a side-table with the under college tutors; but he was induced to relent, and merely entertained that distinguished Cossack with a dis- course on his own language, in which he showed that the Hetrnan knew nothing about it. As for us undergraduates, we scarcely knew more about Crump than about the Grand Llama. A few favored youths are asked occasionally to tea at the lodge ; but they do not speak unless first addressed by the Doctor; and if they venture to sit down, Crump's follower, Mr. Toady, whispers " Gentlemen, will you have the kindness to get up ? The President is passing " ; or " Gentlemen, the President pre- fers that undergraduates should not sit down " ; or words to a similar effect. To do Crump justice, he does not cringe now to great people. He rather patronizes them than otherwise ; and, in London, speaks quite affably to a Duke who has been brought up at his college, or holds out a finger to a Marquis. He does not disguise his own origin, but brags of it with considerable self-gratulation : "I was a Charity-boy," says he ; " see what I am now ; the greatest Greek scholar of the greatest College of the greatest University of the greatest Empire in the world." The argument being that this is a capital world for beggars, because he, being a beggar, has managed to get on horseback. Hugby owes his eminence to patient merit and agreeable perseverance. He is a meek, mild, inoffensive creature, with just enough of scholarship to fit him to hold a lecture, or set an examination paper. He rose by kindness to the aristocracy. It was wonderful to see the way in which that poor creature grovelled before a nobleman or a lord's nephew, or even some noisy and disreputable commoner, the friend of a lord. He used to give the young noblemen the most painful and elaborate breakfasts, and adopt a jaunty genteel air, and talk with them (although he was decidedly serious) about the opera, or the last run with the hounds. It was good to watch him in the midst of a circle of young tufts, with his mean, smiling, eager, uneasy famil- iarity. He used to write home confidential letters to their parents, and made it his duty to call upon them when in town, to condole or rejoice with them when a death, birth, or marriage took place in their family ; and to feast them whenever they came to the University. I recollect a letter lying on a desk in his lecture-room for a whole term, begin- THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 375 ning, "My Lord Duke." It was to show us that he corre- sponded with such dignities. When the late lamented Lord Glenlivat, who broke his neck at a hurdle-race, at the premature age of twenty -four, was at the University, the amiable young fellow, passing to his rooms in the early morning, and seeing Hugby's boots at his door, on the same staircase, playfully wadded the insides of the boots with cobbler's wax, which caused excruciating pains to the Rev. Mr. Hugby, when he came to take them off the same evening, before dining with the Master of St. Crispin's. Everybody gave the credit of this admirable piece of fun to Lord Glenlivat's friend, Bob Tizzy, who was famous for such feats, and who had already made away with the college pump-handle ; filed St. Boniface's nose smooth with his face; carried off four images of nigger-boys from the tobacconists ; painted the senior proctor's horse pea-green, &c., &c. ; and Bob (who was of the party certainly, and would not peach) was just on the point of incurring expulsion, and so losing the family living which was in store for him, when Glenlivat nobly stepped forward, owned himself to be the author of the delightful jeu- d'esprit, apologized to the tutor, and accepted the rusti- cation. Hugby cried when Glenlivat apologized; if the young nobleman had kicked him round the court, I believe the tutor would have been happy, so that an apology and a reconciliation might subsequently ensue. " My lord," said he, " in your conduct on this and all other occasions, you . have acted as becomes a gentleman ; you have been an honor to the University, as you will be to the peerage, I am sure, when the amiable vivacity of youth is calmed clown, and you are called upon to take your proper share in the government of the nation." And when his lordship took leave of the University, Hugby presented him with a copy of his " Sermons to a Nobleman's Family" (Hugby was once private tutor to the sons of the Earl of Muffborough), which Glenlivat presented in return to Mr. William Kamm, known to the fancy as the Tutbury Pet, and the sermons now figure on the boudoir-table of Mrs. Kamm, behind the bar of her house of entertainment, "The Game Cock and Spurs," near Woodstock, Oxon. At the beginning of the long vacation, Hugby comes to town, and puts up in handsome lodgings near St. James's 376 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. Square; rides in the Park in the afternoon; and is de- lighted to read his name in the morning papers among the list of persons present at Muffborough House, and the Marquis of Farmtosh's evening-parties. He is a member of Sydney Scraper's Club, where, however, he drinks his pint of claret. Sometimes you may see him on Sundays, at the hour when tavern doors open, whence issue little girls with great jugs of porter ; when charity-boys walk the streets, bearing brown dishes of smoking shoulders of mutton and baked 'taturs ; when Sheeny and Moses are seen smoking their pipes before their lazy shutters in Ssven Dials ; when a crowd of smiling persons in clean outlandish dresses, in monstrous bonnets and flaring printed gowns, or in crumpled glossy coats and silks that bear the creases of the drawers where they had lain all the week, file down High Street, sometimes, I say, you may see Hugby coming out of the church of St. Giles-in-the-Fields, with a stout gentlewoman leaning on his arm, whose old face bears an expression of supreme pride and happiness as she THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 377 glances round at all the neighbors, and who faces the curate himself, and marches into Holborn, where she pulls the bell of a house over which is inscribed, "Hugby, Haberdasher." It is the mother of the Rev. F. Hugby, as proud of her son in his white choker as Cornelia of her jewels at Rome. That is old Hugby bringing up the rear with the Prayer-books, and Betsy Hugby the old maid, his daughter, old Hugby, Haberdasher and Churchwarden. In the front room upstairs, where the dinner is laid out, there is a picture of Muff borough Castle ; of the Earl of Muffborough, K. X., Lord-Lieutenant for Diddlesex ; an engraving, from an almanac, of Saint Boniface College, Oxon ; and a sticking-plaster portrait of Hugby when young, in a cap and gown. A copy of his " Sermons to a Noble- man's Family " is on the book-shelf, by the " Whole Duty of Man," the Eeports of the Missionary Societies, and the " Oxford University Calendar." Old Hugby knows part of this by heart; every living belonging to Saint Boniface, and the name of every tutor, fellow, nobleman, and under- graduate. He used to go to meeting and preach himself, until his son took orders ; but of late the old gentleman has been accused of Puseyism, and is quite pitiless against the Dissenters. CHAPTER XV. ON UNIVERSITY SNOBS. SHOULD like to fill several volumes with accounts of vari- ous University Snobs ; so fond are my reminiscences of them, and so numerous are they. I should like to speak, above all, of the wives and daughters of some of the Professor- Snobs ; their amusements, hab- its, jealousies ; their innocent artifices to entrap young men ; their picnics, concerts, and evening-parties. I wonder what has become of Emily Blades, daughter of Blades, the Professor of the Man dingo language ? I remember her shoulders to this day, as she sat in the midst of a crowd of about seventy young gentlemen, from Corpus and Catherine Hall, entertaining them with ogles and French songs on the guitar. Are you married, fair Emily of the shoulders ? What beautiful ringlets those were that used to dribble over them! what a waist! what a killing sea-green shot-silk gown ! what a cameo, the size of a muffin ! There were thirty-six young men of the University in love at one time with Emily Blades ; and no words are suffi- cient to describe the pity, the sorrow, the deep, deep com- miseration the rage, fury, and uncharitableness, in other words with which the Miss Trumps (daughters of Trumps, the Professor of Phlebotomy) regarded her, because she didn't squint, and because she wasn't marked with the small-pox. As for the young University Snobs, I am getting too old, now, to speak of such very familiarly. My recollections of 378 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 379 them lie in the far, far past almost as far back as Pel- ham's time. We then used to consider Snobs raw-looking lads, who never missed chapel; who wore highlows and no straps; who walked two hours on the Trumpington road every day of their lives ; who carried off the college scholarships, and who overrated themselves in hall. We were premature in pronouncing our verdict of youthful snobbishness. The man without straps fulfilled his destiny and duty. He eased his old governor, the curate in Westmoreland, or helped his sisters to set up the Ladies' School. He wrote a " Dictionary/' or a " Treatise on Conic Sections," as his nature and genius prompted. He got a fellowship : and then took to himself a wife, and a living. He presides over a parish now, and thinks it rather a dashing thing to belong to the "Oxford and Cambridge Club"; and his parishioners love him, and snore under his sermons. No, no, he is not a Snob. It is not straps that make the gen- tleman, or highlows that unmake him, be they ever so thick. My son, it is you who are the Snob if you lightly despise a man for doing his duty, and refuse to shake an honest man's hand because it wears a Berlin glove. We then used to consider it not the least vulgar for a parcel of lads who had been whipped three months previous, and were not allowed more than three glasses of port at home, to sit down to pineapples and ices at each other's rooms, and fuddle themselves with champagne and claret. One looks back to what was called " a wine-party " with a sort of wonder. Thirty lads round a table covered Avith bad sweetmeats, drinking bad wines, telling bad stories, singing bad songs over and over again. Milk punch smoking ghastly headache frightful spectacle of dessert- table next morning, and smell of tobacco your guardian, the clergyman, dropping in in the midst of this expecting to find you deep in Algebra, and discovering the Gyp administering soda-water. There were young men who despised the lads who in- dulged in the coarse hospitalities of wine-parties, who prided themselves in giving recherche little French dinners. Both wine-party-givers and dinner-givers were Snobs. There were what used to be called " dressy " Snobs : Jimmy, who might be seen at five o'clock elaborately rigged out, with a camellia in his button-hole, glazed boots, and fresh kid-gloves twice a clay; Jessamy, who was 380 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. conspicuous for his "jewellery" a young donkey, glitter- ing all over with chains, rings, and shirt-studs; Jacky, who rode every day solemnly on the Blenheim Road, in pumps and white silk stockings, with his hair curled, all three of whom flattered themselves they gave laws to the University about dress all three most odious varieties of Snobs. Sporting Snobs of course there were, and are always those happy beings in whom Nature has implanted a love of slang : who loitered about the horsekeeper's stables, and drove the London coaches a stage in and out and might be seen swaggering through the courts in pink of early mornings, and indulged in dice and blind-hookey at nights, and never missed a race or a boxing-match; and rode flat-races, and kept bull-terriers. Worse Snobs even than these were poor miserable wretches who did not like THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 381 hunting at all, and could not afford it, and were in mortal fear at a two-foot ditch ; but who hunted because Glenlivat and Cinqbars hunted. The Billiard Snob and the Boating Snob were varieties of these, and are to be found elsewhere than in universities. Then there were Philosophical Snobs, who used to ape statesmen at the spouting-clubs, and who believed as a fact that Government always had an eye on the University for the selection of orators for the House of Commons. There were audacious young freethinkers, who adored nobody or nothing, except perhaps Robespierre and the Koran, and panted for the day when the pale name of priest should shrink and dwindle away before the indignation of an en- lightened world. But the worst of all University Snobs are those unfortu- nates who go to rack and ruin from their desire to ape their betters. Smith becomes acquainted with great peo- ple at college, and is ashamed of his father the tradesman. Jones has fine acquaintances, and lives after their fashior like a gay free-hearted fellow as he is, and ruins his father, and robs his sister's portion, and cripples his younger brother's outset in life, for the pleasure of entertaining my lord, and riding by the side of Sir John. And though it may be very good fun for Eobinson to fuddle himself at home as he does at College, and to be brought home by the policeman he has just been trying to knock down think what fun it is for the poor old soul his mother ! the half- pay captain's widow, who has been pinching herself all her life long, in order that that jolly young fellow might have a University education. CHAPTER XVI. ON LITERARY SNOBS. HAT will lie say about Literary- Snobs ? has been a question, I make no doubt, often asked by the public. How can he let off his own profession ? Will that trucu- lent and unsparing monster who at- tacks the nobility, the clergy, the army, and the ladies, indiscrimi- nately, hesitate when the turn comes to egorger his own flesh and blood ? My dear and excellent querist, whom does the school- master flog so resolutely as his own son ? Didn't Brutus chop his offspring's head off ? You have a very bad opin- ion indeed of the present state of literature and of literary men, if you fancy that any one of us would hesitate to stick a knife into his neighbor penman, if the latter's death could do the State any service. But the fact is, that in the literary profession THERE ARE NO SNOBS. Look round at the whole body of British men of letters, and I defy you to point out among them a sin- gle instance of vulgarity, or envy, or assumption. Men and women, as far as I have known them, they are all modest in their demeanor, elegant in their manners, spotless in their lives, and honorable in their conduct to the world and to each other. You may, occasionally, it it true, hear one literary man abusing his brother ; but why ? Not in the least out of malice ; not at all from envy ; merely from a sense of truth and public duty. Suppose, for in- stance, I good-naturedly point out a blemish in my friend Mr. Punch's person, and say Mr. P. has a humpback and his nose and chin are more crooked than those features in the Apollo or Antinous, which we are accustomed to con- sider as our standards of beauty ; does this argue malice on 382 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 383 my part towards Mr. Punch ? Not in the least. It is the critic's duty to point out defects as well as merits, and he invariably does his duty with the utmost gentleness and candor. An intelligent foreigner's testimony about our manners is always worth having, and I think, in this respect, the work of an eminent American, Mr. N. P. Willis, is eminently valuable and impartial. In his " History of Ernest Clay," a crack magazine-writer, the reader will get an exact ac- count of the life of a popular man of letters in England. He is always the great lion of society. He takes the pas of dukes and earls ; all the nobility crowd to see him : I forget how many baronesses and duch- esses fall in love with him. But on this subject let us hold our tongues. Modesty forbids that we should reveal the names of the heart-broken countesses and dear marchion- esses who are pining for every one of the contributors in Punch. If anybody wants to know how intimately authors are connected with the fashionable world, they have but to read the genteel novels. What refinement and delicacy pervades the works of Mrs. Barnaby ! What delightful good company do you meet with in Mrs. Armytage ! She seldom introduces you to anybody under a marquis ! I 384 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. don't know anything more delicious than the pictures of genteel life in " Ten Thousand a Year," except perhaps the " Young Duke," and " Coningsby." There's a modest grace about them, and an air of easy high fashion, which only belongs to blood, my dear Sir to true blood. And what linguists many of our writers are ! Lady Bul- wer, Lady Londonderry, Sir Edward himself they write the French language with a luxurious elegance and ease which sets them far above their continental rivals, of whom not one (except Paul de Kock) knows a word of English. And what Briton can read without enjoyment the works of James, so admirable for terseness ; and the playful hu- mor and dazzling offhand lightness of Ains worth ? Among other humorists, one might glance at a Jerrold, the chival- rous advocate of Toryism and Church and State ; an & Beckett, with a lightsome pen, but a savage earnestness of purpose ; a Jeames, whose pure style, and wit unmingled with buffoonery, was relished by a congenial public. Speaking of critics, perhaps there never was a review that has done so much for literature as the admirable Quar- terly. It has its prejudices, to be sure, as which of us have not ? It goes out of its way to abuse a great man, or lays mercilessly on to such pretenders as Keats and Tennyson ; but, on the other hand, it is the friend of all young authors, and has marked and nurtured all the rising talent of the country. It is loved by everybody. There, again, is Slack- wood's Magazine, conspicuous for modest elegance and amiable satire ; that review never passes the bounds of po- liteness in a joke. It is the arbiter of manners ; and, while gently exposing the foibles of Londoners (for whom the beaux esprits of Edinburgh entertain a justifiable contempt), it is never coarse in its fun. The fiery enthusiasm of the Athenceum is well known : and the bitter wit of the too dif- ficult Literary Gazette. The Examiner is perhaps too timid, and the Spectator too boisterous in its praise but who can carp at these minor faults ? No, no ; the critics of England and the authors of England are unrivalled as a body ; and hence it becomes impossible for us to find fault with them. Above all, I never knew a man of letters ashamed of his profession. Those who know us, know what an affectionate and brotherly spirit there is among us all. Sometimes one of us rises in the world : we never attack him or sneer at him under those circumstances, but rejoice to a man at his THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 385 success. If Jones dines with a lord, Smith never says Jones is a courtier and cringer. Nor, on the other hand, does Jones, who is in the habit of frequenting the society of great people, give himself any airs on account of the company he keeps ; but will leave a duke's arm in Pall Mall to come over and speak to poor Brown, the young penny-a-liner. That sense of equality and fraternity amongst authors has always struck me as one of the most amiable character- istics of the class. It is because we know and respect each other, that the world respects us so much; that we hold such a good position in society, and demean ourselves so irreproachably when there. Literary persons are held in such esteem by the nation, that about two of them have been absolutely invited to court during the present reign; and it is probable that towards the end of the season one or two will be asked to dinner by Sir Kobert Peel. They are such favorites with the public, that they are continually obliged to have their pictures taken and pub- lished ; and one or two could be pointed out, of whom the nation insists upon having a fresh portrait every year. Nothing can be more gratifying than this proof of the affec- tionate regard which the people has for its instructors. Literature is held in such honor in England, that there is a sum of near twelve hundred pounds per annum set apart to pension deserving persons following that profes- sion. And a great compliment this is, too, to the pro- fessors, and a proof of their generally prosperous and flourishing condition. They are generally so rich and thrifty, that scarcely any money is wanted to help them. If every word of this is true, how, I should like to know, am I to write about Literary Snobs ? CHAPTER XVII. A LITTLE ABOUT IRISH SNOBS. OU do not, to be sure, imagine that there are no other Snobs in Ireland than those of the amiable party who wish to make pikes of iron railroads ' (it's a fine Irish economy), and to cut the throats of the Saxon invaders. These are of the venomous sort ; and had they been invented in his time, St. Patrick would have banished them out of the kingdom along with the other dangerous reptiles. I think it is the Four Masters, or else it's Olaus Magnus, or else it's certainly O'Neill Daunt, in the "Catechism of Irish History," who relates that when Richard the Second came to Ireland, and the Irish chiefs did homage to him, going down on their knees the poor simple crea- tures ! and worshipping and wondering before the Eng- lish king and the dandies of his court, my lords the English noblemen mocked and jeered at their uncouth Irish admir- ers, mimicked their talk and gestures, pulled their poor old beards, and laughed at the strange fashion of their garments. The English Snob rampant always does this to the pres- ent day. There is no Snob in existence, perhaps, that has such an indomitable belief in himself : that sneers you down all the rest of the world besides, and has such an insuffer- able, admirable, stupid contempt for all people but his own nay, for all sets but his own. "Gwacious Gad!" what stories about "the Iwish" these young dandies accompany- ing King Richard must have had to tell, when they returned to Pall Mall, and smoked their cigars upon the steps of "White's"! 386 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 387 The Irish Snobbishness develops itself not in pride so much as in servility and mean admirations, and trumpery imitations of their neighbors. And I wonder De Tocque- ville and De Beaumont, and The Times' Commissioner, did not explain the Snobbishness of Ireland as contrasted with our own. Ours is that of Richard's Norman Knights, haughty, brutal, stupid, and perfectly self-confident; theirs of the poor, wondering, kneeling, simple chieftains. They are on their knees still before English fashion these simple, wild people ; and indeed it is hard not to grin at some of their naive exhibitions. Some years since, when a certain great orator was Lord Mayor of Dublin, he used to wear a red gown and a cocked hat, the splendor of which delighted him as much as a new curtain-ring in her nose or a string of glass beads round her neck charms Queen Quasheeneaboo. He used to pay visits to people in this dress ; to appear at meetings hundreds of miles off, in the red velvet gown. And to hear the people crying "Yes, me Lard!" and "No, me Lard!" and to read the prodigious accounts of his Lordship in the papers : it seemed as if the people and he liked to be taken in by this twopenny splendor. Twopenny magnificence, indeed, exists all over Ireland, and may be considered as the great char- acteristic of the Snobbishness of that country. When Mrs. Mulholligan, the grocer's lady, retires to Kings- town, she has "Mulholliganville " painted over the gate of her villa ; and receives you at a door that won't shut, or gazes at you out of a window that is glazed with an old petticoat. Be it ever so shabby and dismal, nobody ever owns to keeping a shop. A fellow whose stock in trade is a penny roll or a tumbler of lollipops, calls his cabin the " American Flour Stores," or the "Depository for Colonial Produce," or some such name. As for Inns, there are none in the country ; Hotels abound, as well furnished as Mulholliganville ; but again there are no such people as landlords and landladies : the landlord is out with the hounds, and my lady in the parlor talking with the Captain or playing the piano. If a gentleman has a hundred a year to leave to his fam- ily they all become gentlemen, all keep a nag, ride to hounds, and swagger about in the "Phaynix," and grow tufts to their chins like so many real aristocrats. A friend of mine has taken to be a painter, and lives out of Ireland, where he is considered to have disgraced the 388 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. family by choosing such a profession. His father is a wine- inerchant ; and his elder brother an apothecary. The number of men one meets in London and on the Continent who have a pretty little property of five-and- twenty hundred a year in Ireland is prodigious, those who will have nine thousand a year in land when somebody dies are still more numerous. I myself have met as many descendants from Irish kings as would form a brigade. And who has not met the Irishman who apes the English- man, and who forgets his country and tries to forget his accent, or to smother the taste of it, as it were ? " Come, dine with me, my boy," says O'Dowd, of O'Dowdstown, "you'll find us ail English there;" which he tells you with a brogue as broad as from here to Kingstown Pier. And did you never hear Mrs. Captain Macmanus talk about " I-ah-land," and her account of her " fawther's esteet ? " Very few men have rubbed through the world without hearing and witnessing some of these Hibernian phenom- ena these twopenny splendors. And what say you to the summit of society the Castle with a sham king, and sham lords-in-waiting, and sham loyalty, and a sham Haroun Alraschid, to go about in a sham disguise, making believe to be affable and splendid ? That Castle is the pink and pride of Snobbishness. A Court Circular is bad enough, with two columns of print about a little baby that's christened but think of people liking a sham Court Circular ! I think the shams of Ireland are more outrageous than those of any country. A fellow shows you a hill and says, " That's the highest mountain in all Ireland " ; or a gentle- man tells you he is descended from Brian Boroo, and has his five-and-thirty hundred a year; or Mrs. Macmanus describes her fawther's esteet ; or ould Dan rises and says the Irish women are the loveliest, the Irish men the bravest, the Irish land the most fertile in the world : and nobody believes anybody the latter doesn't believe his story nor the hearer : but they make believe to believe, and solemnly do honor to humbug. Ireland ! my country ! (for I make little doubt that I am descended from Brian Boroo too) when will you acknowledge that two and two make four, and call a pike- staff a pikestaff ? that is the very best use you can make of the latter. Irish snobs will dwindle away then, and we shall never hear tell of Hereditary Bondsmen. CHAPTEE XVIII. PARTY-GIVING SNOBS. <^\ ^"ll 7^\ ^R selection of Snobs has lately flAt s. been too exclusively of a political character. " Give us private Snobs," cry the dear ladies. (I have before me the letter of one fair correspondent of the fishing village of Brighthelinstone in Sussex, and could her commands ever be disobeyed ?) " Tell us more, dear Mr. Snob, about your experience of Snobs in society." Heaven bless the dear souls ! they are accustomed to the word now the odious, vulgar, horrid, unpronounceable word slips out of their lips with the prettiest glibness possible. I should not wonder if it were used at Court amongst the Maids of Honor. In the very best society I know it is. And why not ? Snobbish- ness is vulgar the mere words are not : that which we call a Snob, by any other name would still be Snobbish. Well, then. As the season is drawing to a close; as many hundreds of kind souls, snobbish or otherwise, have quitted London ; as many hospitable carpets are taken up, and window-blinds are pitilessly papered with the Morning Herald ; and mansions once inhabited by cheerful owners are now consigned to the care of the housekeeper's dreary locum tenens some mouldy old woman, who, in reply to the hopeless clanging of the bell, peers at you for a moment from the area, and then, slowly unbolting the great hall- door, informs you my lady has left town, or that the "family's in the country," or "gone up the Bind," or what not ; as the season and parties are over, why not con- sider Party-giving Snobs for a while, and review the con- duct of some of those individuals who have quitted the town for six months? 389 390 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. Some of those worthy Snobs are making-believe to go yachting, and, dressed in telescopes and pea-jackets, are passing their time between Cherbourg and Cowes ; some living higgledy-piggledy in dismal little huts in Scotland, provisioned with canisters of portable soup and fricandeaux hermetically sealed in tin, are passing their days slaughter- ing grouse on the moors; some are dozing and bathing away the effects of the season at Kissingen, or watching the ingenious game of Trente et quarante at Homburg and Ems. We can afford to be very bitter upon them now they are all gone. Now there are no more parties, let us have at the Party-giving Snobs. The dinner-giving, the ball-giving, the dejeuner-giving, the conversazione-giving Snobs Lord ! Lord ! what havoc might have been made amongst them had we attacked them during the plethora of the season ! I should have been obliged to have a guard to defend me from the fiddlers and pastry-cooks, indignant at the abuse of their patrons. Already I'm told that, from some flippant and unguarded expressions considered derogatory to Baker Street and Harley Street, rents have fallen in these re- spectable quarters ; and orders have been issued that at least Mr. Snob shall be asked to parties there no more. Well, then now they are all away, let us frisk at our ease, and have at everything, like the bull in the china- shop. They mayn't hear of what is going on in their absence, and, if they do, they can't bear malice for six months. We will begin to make it up with them about next February, and let next year take care of itself. We shall have no more dinners from the dinner-giving Snobs : no more balls from the ball-givers : no more conversaziones (thank Mussy ! as Jeames says), from the Conversazione Snob : and what is to prevent us from telling the truth? The snobbishness of Conversazione Snobs is very soon disposed of: as soon as that cup of washy bohea that is handed to you in the tea-room ; or the muddy remnant of ice that you grasp in the suffocating scuffle of the assembly upstairs. Good heavens ! What do people mean by going there ? What is done there, that everybody throngs into those three little rooms ? Was the Black Hole considered to be an agreeable reunion, that Britons in the dog-clays here seek to imitate it ? After being rammed to a jelly in a doorway (where you feel your feet going through Lady Barbara Macbeth's lace flounces, and get a look from that THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 391 haggard and painted old harpy, compared to which the gaze of Ugolino is quite cheerful) ; after withdrawing your elbow out of poor gasping Bob Ghittleton's white waistcoat, from which cushion it was impossible to remove it, though you knew you were squeezing poor Bob into an apoplexy you find yourself at last in the reception-room, and try to catch the eye of Mrs. Botibol, the conversazione-givei'. When you catch her eye, you are expected to grin, and she smiles too, for the four hundredth time that night ; and, if she's very glad to see you waggles her little hand before her face as if to blow you a kiss, as the phrase is. Why the deuce should Mrs. Botibol blow me a kiss ? I wouldn't kiss her for the world. Why do I grin when I see her, as if I was delighted? Am I? I don't care a straw for Mrs. Botibol. I know what she thinks about me. I know what she said about my last volume of poems (I had it from a dear mutual friend). Why, I say in a word, are we going on ogling and telegraphing each other in this insane way ? Because we are both performing the cere- monies demanded by the Great Snob Society, whose dic- tates we all of us obey. Well ; the recognition is over my jaws have returned to their usual English expression of subdued agony and intense gloom, and the Botibol is grinning and kissing her fingers to somebody else, who is squeezing through the aperture by which we have just entered. It is Lady Ann Clutterbuck, who has her Friday evenings, as Botibol (Botty we call her) has her Wednesdays. That is Miss Clemen- tina Clutterbuck, the cadaverous young woman in green, with florid auburn hair, who has published her volume of poems ("The Death Shriek"; "Damien"; "The Fagot of Joan of Arc " ; and " Translations from the German" of course). The conversazione-women salute each other, call- ing each other " My dear Lady Ann" and " My dear good Eliza," and hating each other, as women hate who give parties on Wednesdays and Fridays. With inexpressible pain dear good Eliza sees Ann go up and coax and wheedle Abou Gosh, who has just arrived from Syria, and beg him to patronize her Fridays. All this while, amidst the crowd and the scuffle, and a perpetual buzz and chatter, and the flare of the wax- candles, and an intolerable smell of rnusk what the poor Snobs who write fashionable romances call " the gleam of gems, the odor of perfumes, the blaze of countless lamps " 392 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. a scrubby-looking, yellow-faced foreigner, with cleaned gloves, is warbling inaudibly in a corner, to the accompani- ment of another. "The Great Cacafogo," Mrs. Botibol whispers, as she passes you by. " A great creature, Thump- enstrumpff, is at the instrument the Hetman PlatoiFs pianist, you know." To hear this Cacafogo and Thump enstrumpff, a hundred people are gathered together a bevy of dowagers, stout or scraggy ; a faint sprinkling of misses ; six moody -look- ing lords, perfectly meek and solemn ; wonderful foreign Counts, with bushy whiskers and yellow faces, and a great deal of dubious jewellery ; young dandies with slim waists and open necks, and self-satisfied simpers, and flowers in their buttons ; the old, stiff, stout, bald-headed conversazione roues, whom you meet everywhere who never miss a night of this delicious enjoyment; the three last-caught lions of the season Higgs, the traveller, Biggs, the novel- ist, and Toffey, who has come out so on the sugar question ; Captain Flash, who is invited on account of his pretty wife ; and Lord Ogleby, who goes wherever she goes. Que sgais-je? Who are the owners of all those showy scarf s and white neck-cloths ? Ask little Tom Prig, who is there in all his glory, knows everybody, has a story about every one; and, as he trips home to his lodgings in Jermyn Street, with his gibus-hat and his little glazed THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 393 pumps, thinks he is the fashionablest young fellow in town, and that he really has passed a night of exquisite enjoyment. You go up (with your usual easy elegance of manner) and talk to Miss Smith in a corner. " Oh, Mr. Snob, I'm afraid you're sadly satirical." That's all she says. If you say it's fine weather, she bursts out laughing ; or hint that it's very hot, she vows you are the drollest wretch! Meanwhile Mrs. Botibol is simpering on fresh arrivals ; the individual at the door is roaring out their names ; poor Cacafogo is quavering away in the music-room, under the impression that he will be lance in the world by singing inaudibly here. And what a blessing it is to squeeze out of the door, and into the street, where a half-hundred of carriages are in waiting; and where the link-boy, with that unnecessary lantern of his, pounces upon all who issue out, and will insist upon getting your noble honor's lordship's cab. And to think that there are people who, after having been to Botibol on Wednesday, will go to Clutterbuck on Friday ! CHAPTER XIX. DINING -OUT SNOBS. N England Dinner-giving Snobs occupy a very important place in society, and the task of describing them is tremen- dous. There was a time in my life when the consciousness of having eaten a man's salt rendered me dumb regard- ing his demerits, and I thought it a wicked act and a breach of hospitality to speak ill of him. But why should a saddle-of-mutton blind you, or a turbot and lobster-sauce shut your mouth forever? With ad- vancing age, men see their duties more clearly. I am not to be hoodwinked any longer by a slice of venison, be it ever so fat ; and as for being dumb on account of turbot and lobster-sauce of course I am; good manners ordain that I should be so, until I have swal- lowed the compound but not afterwards; directly the victuals are discussed, and John takes away the plate, my tongue begins to wag. Does not yours, if you have a pleasant neighbor? a lovely creature, say, of some five- and-thirty, whose daughters have not yet quite come out they are the best talkers. As for your young misses, they are only put about the table to look at like flowers in the centre-piece. Their blushing youth and natural modesty preclude them from that easy, confidential, conversational abandon which forms the delight of the intercourse with their dear mothers. It is to these, if he would prosper in his profession, that the Dining-out Snob should address himself. Suppose you sit next to one of these, how pleasant it is, in the intervals of the banquet, actually to abuse the victuals and the giver of the entertainment ! It's 394 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 395 twice as piquant to make fun of a man under his very nose. " What is a Dinner-giving Snob ? " some innocent youth, who is not repandu in the world, may ask or some simple reader who has not the benefits of London expe- rience. My dear sir, I will show you not all, for that is im- possible but several kinds of Dinner-giving Snobs. For instance, suppose you, in the middle rank of life, accus- tomed to Mutton, roast on Tuesday, cold on Wednesday, hashed on Thursday, &c., with small means and a small establishment, choose to waste the former and set the latter topsy-turvy by giving entertainments unnaturally costly you come into the Dinner-giving Snob class at once. Suppose you get in cheap-made dishes from the pastry-cook's, and hire a couple of green-grocers, or carpet- beaters, to figure as footmen, dismissing honest Molly, who waits on common days, and bedizening your table (ordi- narily ornamented with willow pattern crockery) with two- penny-halfpenny Birmingham plate. Suppose you pretend to be richer and grander than you ought to be you are a Dinner-giving Snob. And oh, I tremble to think how many and many a one will read this ! A man who entertains in this way and, alas, how few do not ! is like a fellow who would borrow his neighbor's coat to make a show in, or a lady who flaunts in the diamonds from next door a humbug, in a word, and amongst the Snobs he must be set down. A man who goes out of his natural sphere of society to ask Lords, Generals, Aldermen, and other persons of fashion, but is niggardly of his hospitality towards his own equals, is a Dinner-giving Snob. My dear friend, Jack Tufthunt, for example, knows one Lord whom he met at a watering-place: old Lord Mumble, who is as tooth- less as a three-months-old baby, and as mum as an under- taker, and as dull as well, we will not particularize. Tufthunt never has a dinner now but you see this solemn old toothless patrician at the right-hand of Mrs. Tufthunt Tufthunt is a Dinner-giving Snob. Old Livermore, old Soy, old Chutney, the East Indian Director, old Cutler, the Surgeon, &c., that society of old fogies, in fine, who give each other dinners round and round, and dine for the mere purpose of guttling these, again, are Dinner-giving Snobs. 396 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. Again, my friend Lady MacScrew, who has three grenadier flunkies in lace round the table, and serves up a scrag-of-mutton on silver, and dribbles you out bad sherry and port by thimblefuls, is a Dinner-giving Snob of the other sort ; and I confess, for rny part, I would rather dine with old Livermore or old Soy than with her Ladyship. Stinginess is snobbish. Ostentation is snobbish. Too great profusion is snobbish. Tuft-hunting is snobbish. But I own there are people more snobbish than all those whose defects are above mentioned : viz., those individuals who can, and don't give dinners at all. The man without hospitality shall never sit sub iisdem trabibiis with me. Let the sordid wretch go mumble his bone alone. What, again, is true hospitality ? Alas, my dear friends and brother Snobs ! how little do we meet of it after all ! Are the motives pure which induce your friends to ask you to dinner ? This has often come across me. Does your entertainer want something from you ? For instance, I am not of a suspicious turn ; but it is a fact that when Hookey is bringing out a new work, he asks the critics all round to dinner ; that when "Walker had got his picture ready for the Exhibition, he somehow grows exceedingly hospitable, and has his friends of the press to a quiet cutlet and a glass of Sillery. Old Hunks, the miser, who died lately (leaving his money to his housekeeper) lived many years on the fat of the land, by simply taking down, at all his friends', the names and Christian names of all the children. But though you may have your own opinion about the hospitality of your acquaintances; and though men who ask you from sordid motives are most decid- edly Dinner-giving Snobs, it is best not to inquire into their motives too keenly. Be not too curious about the mouth of a gift-horse. After all, a man does not intend to insult you by asking you to dinner. Though, for that matter, I know some characters about town who actually consider themselves injured and insulted if the dinner or the company is not their liking. There is Guttleton, who dines at home off a shilling's worth of beef from the cookshop, but if he is asked to dine at a house where there are not pease at the end of May, or cucumbers in March along with the turbot, thinks himself insulted by being invited. "Good Ged!" says he, "what the deuce do the Forkers mean by asking me to a family dinner ? THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 397 I can get mutton at home ; " or " What infernal imperti- nence it is of the Spooners to get entrees from the pastry- cook's, and fancy that / am to be deceived with their stories about their French cook ! " Then, again, there is Jack Puddington I saw that honest fellow t'other day quite in a rage, because, as chance would have it, Sir John Carver asked him to meet the very same party he had met at Colonel Cramley's the day before, and he had not got up a new set of stories to entertain them. Poor Dinner- giving Snobs ! you don't know what small thanks you get for all your pains and money ! How we dining-out Snobs sneer at your cookery, and pooh-pooh your old hock, and are incredulous about your four-and-sixpenny champagne, and know that the side-dishes of to-day are rechauffes from the dinner of yesterday, and mark how certain dishes are whisked off the table untasted, so that they may figure at the banquet to-morrow. Whenever, for my part, I see the head man particularly anxious to escamoter a fricandeau or blanc-mange, I always call out, and insist upon massacring it with a spoon. All this sort of conduct makes one popular with the Dinner-giving Snob. One friend of mine, I know, has made prodigious sensation in good society, by announcing apropos of certain dishes when offered to him, that he never eats aspic except at Lord Tittup's, and that Lady Jiminy's chef is the only man in London who knows how to dress Filet en serpenteau, or Supreme de volatile aux truffes. CHAPTER XX. DINNER-GIVING SNOBS FURTHER CONSIDERED. F my friends would but follow the present prevailing fashion, I think they ought to give me a testi- monial for the paper on Dinner- giving Snobs, which I am now writing. What do you say now to a handsome comfortable dinner- service of plate (not including plates, for I hold silver plates to be sheer wantonness, and would almost as soon think of silver tea- cups), a couple of neat teapots, a coffee-pot, trays, &c., with a little inscription to my wife, Mrs. Snob ; and a half-score of silver tankards for little Snoblings, to glitter on the homely table where they par- take of their quotidian mutton ? If I had my way, and my plans could be carried out, dinner-giving would increase as much on the one hand as dinner-giving Snobbishness would diminish: to my mind the most amiable part of the work lately pub- lished by my esteemed friend (if upon a very brief ac- quaintance he will allow me to call him so), Alexis Soyer, the regenerator what he (in his noble style) would call the most succulent, savory, and elegant passages are those which relate, not to the grand banquets and cere- monial dinners, but to his "dinners at home." The "dinner at home" ought to be the centre of the whole system of dinner-giving. Your usual style of meal that is, plenteous, comfortable, and in its perfection should be that to which you welcome your friends, as it is that of which you partake yourself. 398 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 399 For, towards what woman in the world do I entertain a higher regard than towards the beloved partner of my existence, Mrs. Snob ? Who should have a greater place in my affections than her six brothers (three or four of whom we are pretty sure will favor us with their company at seven o'clock), or her angelic mother, my own valued mother- in-law ? for whom, finally, would I wish to cater more generously than for your very humble servant, the present writer ? Now, nobody supposes that the Birmingham plate is had out, the disguised carpet-beaters introduced to the exclusion of the neat parlor-maid, the miserable entrees from the pastry-cook's ordered in, and the children packed off (as it is supposed) to the nursery, but really only the staircase, down which they slide during the dinner-time, waylaying the dishes as they come out, and fingering the round bumps on the jellies, and the forced-meat balls in the soup, nobody, I say, supposes that a dinner at home is characterized by the horrible ceremony, the foolish make- shifts, the mean pomp and ostentation which distinguish our banquets on grand field-days. Such a notion is monstrous. I would as soon think of having my dearest Bessy sitting opposite me in a turban and bird of paradise, and showing her jolly mottled arms out of blond sleeves in her famous red satin gown : ay, or of having Mr. Toole every day, in a white waistcoat, at my back, shouting, " Silence faw the chair ! " Now, if this be the case ; if the Brummagem-plate pomp and the processions of disguised footmen are odious and foolish in everyday life, why not always? Why should Jones and I, who are in the middle rank, alter the modes of our being to assume an eclat which does not belong to us to entertain our friends, who (if we are worth anything, and honest fellows at bottom), are men of the middle rank too, who are not in the least deceived by our temporary splendor, and who play off exactly the same absurd trick upon us when they ask us to dine ? If it be pleasant to dine with your friends, as all per- sons with good stomachs and kindly hearts, will, I pre- sume, allow it to be, it is better to dine twice than to dine once. It is impossible for men of small means to be con- tinually spending five-and-twenty or thirty shillings on each friend who sits down to their table. People dine for less. I myself have seen, at my favorite club (the Senior United Service), His Grace the Duke of Wellington quite 400 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. contented with the joint, oue-and-three, and half -pint of sherry-wine, nine ; and if his Grace, why not you and I ? This rule I have made, and found the benefit of. When- ever I ask a couple of Dukes and a Marquis or so to dine with me, I set them down to a piece of beef, or a leg-of- mutton and trimmings. The grandees thank you for this simplicity, and appreciate the same. My dear Jones, ask any of those whom you have the honor of knowing, if such be not the case. I am far from wishing that their Graces should treat me in a similar fashion. Splendor is a part of their station, as decent comfort (let us trust), of yours and mine. Fate has comfortably appointed gold plate for some, and has bidden others contentedly to wear the willow-pattern. And being perfectly contented (indeed humbly thankful for look around, Jones, and see the myriads who are not so for- tunate), to wear honest linen, while magnificos of the world are adorned with cambric and point-lace, surely we ought to hold as miserable, envious fools, those wretched Beaux Tibbs's of society, who sport a lace dicky, and nothing besides, the poor silly jays, who trail a peacock's feather behind them, and think to simulate the gorgeous bird whose nature it is to strut on palace-terraces, and to flaunt his magnificent fan-tail in the sunshine ! The jays with peacocks' feathers are the Snobs of this world : and never since the days of ^Esop were they more numerous in any land than they are at present in this free country. How does this most ancient apologue apply to the sub- ject in hand the Dinner-giving Snob. The imitation of the great is universal in this city, from the palaces of Ken- singtonia and Belgravia, even to the remotest corner of Brunswick Square. Peacocks' feathers are stuck in the tails of most families. Scarce one of us domestic birds but imitates the lanky, pavonine strut, and shrill, genteel scream. you misguided dinner-giving Snobs, think how much pleasure you lose, and how much mischief you do, with your absurd grandeurs and hypocrisies ! You stuff each other with unnatural forced-meats, and entertain each other to the ruin of friendship (let alone health) and the destruction of hospitality and good-fellowship you, who but for the peacock's tail might chatter away so much at your ease, and be so jovial and happy ! When a man goes into a great set company of dinner- THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 401 giving and dinner-receiving Snobs, if he has a philosophical turn of mind, he will consider what a huge humbug the whole affair is : the dishes, and the drink, and the servants, and the plate, and the host and hostess, and the conver- sation, and the company-, the philosopher included. The host is smiling, and hob-nobbing, and talking up and down the table ; but a prey to secret terrors and anxieties, lest the wines he has brought up from the cellar should prove insufficient ; lest a corked bottle should destroy his calculations ; or our friend the carpet-beater, by making some bevue, should disclose his real quality of green-grocer, and show that he is not the family butler. The hostess is smiling resolutely through all the courses, smiling through her agony ; though her heart is in the kitchen, and she is speculating with terror least there be any disaster there. If the souffle should collapse, or if Wiggins does not send the ices in time she feels as if she would commit suicide that smiling, jolly woman ! The children upstairs are yelling, as their maid is crimp- ing their miserable ringlets with hot tongs, tearing Miss Emmy's hair out by the roots, or scrubbing Miss Polly's dumpy nose with mottled soap till the little wretch screams herself into fits. The young males of the family are em- ployed, as we have stated, in piratical exploits upon the landing-place. The servants are not servants, but the before-mentioned retail tradesmen. The plate is not plate, but a mere shiny Birming- ham lacquer; and so is the hospitality, and everything else. The talk is Birmingham talk. The wag of the party, with bitterness in his heart, having just quitted his laun- dress, who is dunning him for her bill, is firing off good stories ; and the opposition wag is furious that he cannot get an innings. Jawkins, the great conversationalist, is scornful and indignant with the pair of them, because he is kept out of court. Young Muscadel, that cheap dandy, is talking fashion and Almack's out of the Morning Post, and disgusting his neighbor, Mrs. Fox, who reflects that she has never been there. The widow is vexed out of patience, because her daughter Maria has got a place beside young Cambric, the penniless curate, and not by Colonel Goldmore, the rich widower from India. The Doctor's wife is sulky, because she has not been led out 26 402 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. before the barrister's lady ; old Doctor Cork is grumbling at the wine, and Guttleton sneering at the cookery. And to think that all these people might be so happy, and easy, and friendly were they brought together in a natural unpretentious way, and but for an unhappy passion for peacocks' feathers in England. Gentle shades of Marat and Robespierre ! when I see how all the honesty of society is corrupted among us by the miserable fashion-worship, I feel as angry as Mrs. Fox just mentioned, and ready to order a general battue of peacocks. CHAPTER XXI. SOME CONTINENTAL SNOBS. OW that September has come, and all our Parliamentary duties are over, perhaps no class of Snobs are in such high feather as the Continental Snobs. I watch these daily as they com- mence their migrations from the beach at Folkestone. I see shoals of them depart (not per- haps without an innate longing too to quit the Island along with those happy Snobs). Farewell, dear friends, I say: you little know that the individual who regards you from the beach is your friend and historiographer and brother. I went to-day to see our excellent friend Snooks, on board the " Queen of the French " ; many scores of Snobs were there, on the deck of that fine ship, marching forth in their pride and bravery. They will be at Ostend in four hours ; they will inundate the Continent next week ; they will carry into far lands the famous image of the British Snob. I shall not see them but am with them in spirit : and indeed there is hardly a country in the known and civilized world in which these eyes have not beheld them. I have seen Snobs, in pink coats and hunting-boots, scour- ing over the Campagna of Borne ; and have heard their oaths and their well-known slang in the galleries of the Vatican, and under the shadowy arches of the Colosseum. I have met a Snob on a dromedary in the desert, and pic- nicking under the Pyramid of Cheops. Hike to think how many gallant British Snobs there are, at this minute of writing, pushing their heads out of every window in the court-yard of " Meurice's " in the Rue de Rivoli ; or roar- ing out, " Garsong, du pang," " Garson, du vang " ; or swag- 403 404 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. gering down the Toledo at Naples ; or even how many will be on the lookout for Snooks on Ostend Pier, for Snooks, and the rest of the Snobs on board the "Queen of the French." Look at the Marquis of Carabas and his two carriages. My Lady Marchioness comes on board, looks round with that happy air of mingled terror and impertinence which distinguishes her ladyship, and rushes to her carriage, for it is impossible that she should mingle with the other Snobs on deck. There she sits, and will be ill in private. The strawberry-leaves on her chariot-panels are engraved on her ladyship's heart. If she were going to heaven instead of to Ostend, I rather think she would expect to have des places reserves for her, and would send to order the best rooms. A courier, with his money-bag of office round his shoulders a huge scowling footman, whose dark pepper-and-salt livery glistens with the heraldic in- signia of the Carabases a brazen-looking, tawdry French femme-de-chamlre (none but a female pen can do justice to that wonderful tawdry toilet of the lady's-maid en voyage) and a miserable dame de compagnie, are ministering to the wants of her ladyship and her King Charles's spaniel. They are rushing to and fro with eau-de-Cologne, pocket- handkerchiefs, which are all fringe and cipher, and popping mysterious cushions behind and before, and in every avail- able corner of the carriage. The little Marquis, her husband, is walking about the deck in a bewildered manner, with a lean daughter on each arm : the carroty-tufted hope of the family is already smok- ing on the foredeck in a travelling costume checked all over, and in little lacquer-tipped jean boots, and a shirt embroidered with pink boa-constrictors. What is it that gives travelling Snobs such a marvellous propensity to rush into a costume ? Why should a man not travel in a coat, &c., but think proper to dress himself like a harle- quin in mourning ? See, even young Aldermanbury, the tallow-merchant, who has just stepped on board, has got a travelling-dress gaping all over with pockets ; and little Tom Tapeworm, the lawyer's clerk out of the City, who has but three weeks' leave, turns out in gaiters and a bran- new shooting-jacket, and must let the moustaches grow on his little snuffy upper lip, forsooth ! Pompey Hicks is giving elaborate directions to his ser- vant, and asking loudly, "Davis, where's the dwessing- THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 405 case ? " and " Davis, you'd best take the pistol-case into the cabin." Little Pompey travels with a dressing-case, and without a beard : whom he is going to shoot with his pistols, who on earth can tell ? and what he is to do with his servant but wait upon him, I am at a loss to conjecture. Look at honest Nathan Houndsditch and his lady, and their little son. What a noble air of blazing contentment illuminates the features of those Snobs of Eastern race ! What a toilet Houudsditch's is ! What rings and chains, what gold-headed canes and diamonds, what a tuft the rogue has got to his chin (the rogue ! he will never spare himself any cheap enjoyment !). Little Houndsditch has a little cane with a gilt head and little mosaic orna- ments altogether an extra air. As for the lady, she is all the colors of the rainbow ! she has a pink parasol, with a white lining, and a yellow bonnet, and an emerald green shawl, and a shot-silk pelisse ; and drab boots and rhubarb- colored gloves ; and party-colored glass-buttons, expanding from the size of a fourpenny-piece to a crown, glitter and twiddle all down the front of her gorgeous costume. I have said before, I like to look at " the Peoples " on their gala days, they are so picturesquely and outrageously splendid and happy. Yonder comes Captain Bull ; spick and span, tight and trim ; who travels for four or six months every year of his life ; who does not commit himself by luxury of raiment or insolence of demeanor, but I think is as great a Snob as any man on board. Bull passes the season in London, sponging for dinners, and sleeping in a garret near his Club. Abroad, he has been everywhere ; he knows the best wine at every inn in every capital in Europe; lives with the best English company there ; has seen every palace and picture-gallery from Madrid to Stockholm; speaks an abominable little jargon of half a dozen lan- guages and knows nothing nothing. Bull hunts tufts on the Continent, and is a sort of amateur courier. He will scrape acquaintance with old Carabas before they make Ostend; and will remind his lordship that he met him at Vienna twenty years ago, or gave him a glass of Schnapps up the Kighi. We have said Bull knows nothing: he knows the birth, arms, and pedigree of all the peerage, has poked his little eyes into every one of the carriages on board their panels noted and their crests surveyed ; he knows all the Continental stories of English 406 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. scandal how Count Towrowski ran off with Miss Baggs at Naples how very thick Lady Smigsrnag was with young Cornichon of the French Legation at Florence the exact amount which Jack Deuceace won of Bob Greengoose at Baden what it is that made the Staggs settle on the Continent : the sum for which the O'Goggarty estates are mortgaged, &c. If he can't catch a lord he will hook on to a baronet, or else the old wretch will catch hold of some beardless young stripling of fashion, and show him " life " in various and amiable and inaccessible quarters. Faugh ! the old brute ! If he has every one of the vices of the most boisterous youth, at least he is comforted by having no conscience. He is utterly stupid, but of a jovial turn. He believes himself to be quite a respectable member of society : but perhaps the only good action he ever did in his life is the involuntary one of giving an example to be avoided, and showing what an odious thing in the social picture is that figure of the debauched old man who passes through life rather a decorous Sileuus, and dies some day in his garret, alone, unrepenting, and unnoted, save by his astonished heirs, who find that the dissolute old miser has left money behind him. See ! he is up to old Carabas already ! I told you he would. Yonder you see the old Lady Mary MacScrew, and those middle-aged young women her daughters ; they are going to cheapen and haggle in Belgium and up the Rhine until they meet with a boarding-house where they can live upon less board-wages than her ladyship pays her footmen. But she will exact and receive considerable respect from the British Snobs located in the watering-place which she selects for her summer residence, being the daughter of the Earl of Haggistoun. That broad-shouldered buck, with the great whiskers and the cleaned white kid-gloves, is Mr. Phelim Clancy of Poldoodystown : he calls himself Mr. De Clancy ; he endeavors to disguise his native brogue with the richest superposition of English; and if you play at billiards or ecarte with him, the chances are that you will win the first game, and he the seven or eight games ensu- ing. That overgrown lady with the four daughters, and the young dandy from the University, her son, is Mrs. Kewsy, the eminent barrister's lady, who would rather die than not be in the fashion. She has the " Peerage " in her carpet-bag, you may be sure ; but she is altogether cut out THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 407 by Mrs. Quod, the attorney's wife, whose carriage, with the apparatus of rumbles, dickies, and imperials, scarcely yields in splendor to the Marquis of Carabas's own travel- ling-chariot, and whose courier has even bigger whiskers and a larger morocco money-bag than the Marquis's own travelling gentleman. Kemark her well : she is talking to Mr. Spout, the new Member for Jawborough, who is going out to inspect the operations of the Zollverein, and will put some very severe questions to Lord Palmerston next session upon England and her relations with the Prussian- blue trade, the Naples-soap trade, the German-tinder trade, &c. Spout will patronize King Leopold at Brussels ; will write letters from abroad to the Jawborough Independent ; and in his quality of Member du Parliamong Britannique, will expect to be invited to a family dinner with every sovereign whose dominions he honors with a visit during his tour. The next person is but hark! the bell for shore is ringing, and, shaking Snooks's hand cordially, we rush on to the pier, waving him a farewell as the noble black ship cuts keenly through the sunny azure waters, bearing away that cargo of Snobs outward bound. CHAPTER XXII. CONTINENTAL SNOBBERY, CONTINUED. E are accustomed to laugh at the French for their braggadocio propensities, and intolerable vanity, about la France, la gloire, I'Empereur, and the like; and yet I think in my heart that the British Snob, for conceit and self-suffi- ciency and braggartism in his way, is without a paral- lel. There is always some- thing uneasy in a French- man's conceit. He brags with so much fury, shrieking, and gesticulation ; yells out so loudly that the Francois is at the head of civilization, the centre of thought, &c. ; that one can't but see the poor fellow has a lurking doubt in his own mind that he is not the wonder he professes to be. About the British Snob, on the contrary, there is com- monly no noise, no bluster, but the calmness of profound conviction. We are better than all the world; we don't question the opinion at all; it's an axiom. And when a Frenchman bellows out, " La France, Monsieur, la France est a la tete du monde civilise ! " we laugh good-naturedly at the frantic poor devil. We are the first chop of the world : we know the fact so well in our secret hearts that a claim set up elsewhere is simply ludicrous. My dear brother reader, say, as a man of honor, if you are not of this opinion? Do you think a Frenchman your equal? You don't you gallant British Snob you know you don't : no more, perhaps, does the Snob your humble ser- vant, brother. And I am inclined to think it is this conviction, and the 408 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 409 consequent bearing of the Englishman towards the for- eigner whom he condescends to visit, this confidence of superiority which holds up the head of the owner of every English hat-box from Sicily to St. Petersburg, that makes us so magnificently hated throughout Europe as we are ; this more than all our little victories, and of which many Frenchmen and Spaniards have never heard this amazing and indomitable insular pride, which animates my lord in his travelling-carriage as well as John in the rumble. If you read the old Chronicles of the French wars, you find precisely the same character of the Englishman, and Henry V.'s people behaved with just the cool domineering manner of our gallant veterans of France and the Penin- sula. Did you never hear Colonel Cutler and Major Slasher talking over the war after dinner? or Captain Boarder describing his action with the " Indoinptable " ? "Hang the fellows," says Boarder, "their practice was very good. I was beat off three times before I took her." "Cuss those carabineers of Milhaud's," says Slasher, "what work they made of our light cavalry ! " implying a sort of surprise that the Frenchman should stand up against Britons at all : a good-natured wonder that the blind, mad, vain-glorious, brave poor devils should actually have the courage to resist an Englishman. Legions of such English- men are patronizing Europe this moment, being kind to the Pope, or good-natured to the King of Holland, or con- descending to inspect the Prussian reviews. When Nico- las came here, who reviews a quarter of a million of pairs of moustaches to his breakfast every morning, we took him off to Windsor and showed him two whole regiments of six or eight hundred Britons apiece, with an air as much as to say, " There, my boy, look at that. Those are English- men, those are, and your master whenever you please," as the nursery song says. The British Snob is long, long past scepticism, and can afford to laugh quite good-humoredly at those conceited Yankees, or besotted little Frenchmen, who set up as models of mankind. They, forsooth ! I have been led into these remarks by listening to an old fellow at the Hotel du Nord, at Boulogne, and who is evi- dently of the Slasher sort. He came down and seated himself at the breakfast-table, with a surly scowl on his salmon-colored blood-shot face, strangling in a tight, cross- barred cravat ; his linen and his appointments so perfectly stiff and spotless that everybody at once recognized him as 410 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. a dear countryman. Only our port- wine and other admira- ble institutions could have produced a figure so insolent, so stupid, so gentlemanlike. After a while our attention was called to him by his roaring out, in a voice of plethoric fury, " O ! " Everybody turned round at the "0," conceiving the Colonel to be, as his countenance denoted him, in intense pain; but the waiters knew better, and instead of being alarmed, brought the Colonel the kettle. " 0," it appears, is the French for hot water. The Colonel (though he despises it heartily) thinks he speaks the language remark- ably well. Whilst he was inhausting his smoking tea, which went rolling and gurgling down his throat, and hissing over the " hot coppers " of that respectable veteran, a friend joined him, with a wizened face and very black wig, evidently a Colonel, too. The two warriors, waggling their old heads at each other, presently joined breakfast, and fell into conversation, and we had the advantage of hearing about the old war, and some pleasant conjectures as to the next, which they con- sidered imminent. They psha'd the French fleet; they pooh-pooh'd the French commercial marine ; they showed how, in a war, there would be a cordon ("a cordong, by ") of steamers along our coast, and "by ," ready at a minute to land anywhere on the other shore, to give the French as good a thrashing as they got in the last war, THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 411 "by ." In fact, a rumbling cannonade of oaths was fired by the two veterans during the whole of their conver- sation. There was a Frenchman in the room, but as he had not been above ten years in London, of course he did not speak the language, and lost the benefit of the conversation. " But, O my country ! " said I to myself, " it's no wonder that you are so beloved ! If I were a Frenchman, how I would hate you ! " That brutal, ignorant, peevish bully of an Englishman is showing himself in every city of Europe. One of the m dullest creatures under heaven, he goes trampling Europe under foot, shouldering his way into galleries and cathe- drals, and bustling into palaces with his buckram uniform. At church or theatre, gala or picture-gallery, his face never varies. A thousand delightful sights pass before his blood- shot eyes, and don't affect him. Countless brilliant scenes of life and manners are shown him, but never move him. He goes to church, and calls the practices there degrading and superstitious ; as if his altar was the only one that was acceptable. He goes to picture-galleries, and is more ignorant about Art than a French shoeblack. Art, Nature pass, and there is no dot of admiration in his stupid eyes ; nothing moves him, except when a very great man comes his way, and then the rigid, proud, self-confident, inflexible British Snob can be as humble as a flunky and as supple as a harlequin. CHAPTER XXIIL ENGLISH SNOBS ON THE CONTINENT. HAT is the use of Lord Rosse's tele- scope ? " my friend Panwiski exclaimed the other day. "It only enables you to see a few hundred thousands of miles farther. What were thought to be mere nebulae, turn out to be most perceivable starry systems; and beyond these you see other nebulae, which a more powerful glass will show to be stars, again; and so they go on glittering and winking away into eternity." With which my friend Pan, heaving a great sigh, as if confess- ing his inability to look Infinity in the face, sank back resigned, and swallowed a large bumper of claret. I (who like other great men, have but one idea) thought to myself, that as the stars are, so are the Snobs : the more you gaze upon those luminaries, the more you behold now nebulously congregated now faintly distinguish- able now brightly defined until they twinkle off in endless blazes, and fade into the immeasurable darkness. I am but as a child playing on the sea-shore. Some tele- scopic philosopher will arise one day, some great Snob- onomer, to find the laws of the great science which we are merely playing with, and to define, and settle, and classify that which is at present but vague theory, and loose though elegant assertion. Yes : a single eye can but trace a very few and simple varieties of the enormous universe of Snobs. I sometimes think of appealing to the public, and calling together a congress of savans, such as met at Southampton each to bring his contributions and read his paper on the Great Subject. For what can a single poor few do, even with the subject at present in hand ? English Snobs on the Conti- 412 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 413 nent though they are a hundred thousand times less numerous than on their native island, yet even these few are too many. One can only fix a stray one here and there. The individuals are caught the thousands escape. I have noted down but three whom I have met with in my walk this morning through this pleasant marine city of Boulogne. There is the English Raff Snob, that frequents estaminets and cabarets; who is heard yelling, "We won't go home till morning ! " and startling the midnight echoes of quiet Continental towns with shrieks of English slang. The boozy unshorn wretch is seen hovering round quays as packets arrive, and tippling drams in inn bars where he gets credit. He talks French with slang familiarity: he and his like quite people the debt-prisons on the Continent. He plays pool at the billiard-houses, and may be seen engaged at cards and dominoes of forenoons. His signa- ture is to be seen on countless bills of exchange : it be- longed to an honorable family once, very likely; for the English Raff most probably began by being a gentleman, and has a father over the water who is ashamed to hear his name. He has cheated the old " governor " repeatedly in better days, and swindled his sisters of their portions, and robbed his younger brothers. Now he is living on his wife's jointure : she is hidden away in some dismal garret, patching shabby finery and cobbling up old clothes for her children the most miserable and slatternly of women. Or sometimes the poor woman and her daughters go about timidly, giving lessors in English and music, or do embroidery and work undy-hand, to purchase the means for the pot-ait-feu ; while Kaff is swaggering on the quay, or tossing off glasses of cognac at the cafe. The unfortu- nate creature has a child still every year, and her constant hypocrisy is to try and make her girls believe that their father is a respectable man, and to huddle him out of the way when the brute comes home drunk. Those poor ruined souls get together and have a society of their own, the which it is very affecting to watch those tawdry pretences at gentility, those flimsy attempts at gayety : those woful sallies : that jingling old piano ; oh, it makes the heart sick to see and hear them. As Mrs. Raff, with her company of pale daughters, gives a penny tea to Mrs. Diddler, they talk about by-gone times and the fine society they kept ; and they sing feeble songs out of tattered old music books ; and while engaged in this sort of 414 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. entertainment, in comes Captain Raff with his greasy hat on one side, and straightway the whole of the dismal room reeks with a mingled odor of smoke and spirits. Has not everybody who has lived abroad met Captain Kaff? His name is proclaimed, every now and then, by Mr. Sheriff's Officer Hemp ; and about Boulogne, and Paris, and Brussels, there are so many of his sort that I will lay a wager that I shall be accused of gross personality for showing him up. Many a less irreclaimable villain is transported ; many a more honorable man is at present at the treadmill; and although we are the noblest, greatest, most religious, and most moral people in the world, I would still like to know where, except in the United Kingdom, debts are a matter of joke, and making tradesmen "suffer " a sport that gentlemen own to ? It is dishonorable to owe money in France. You never hear people in other parts of Europe brag of their swindling ; or see a prison in a large Continental town which is not more or less peopled with English rogues. A still more loathsome and dangerous Snob than the above transparent and passive scamp, is frequent on the continent of Europe, and my young Snob friends who are travelling thither should be especially warned against him. Captain Legg is a gentleman, like Raff, though perhaps of a better degree. He has robbed his family too, but of a great deal more, and has boldly dishonored bills for thou- sands, where Raff has been boggling over the clumsy con- veyance of a ten-pound note. Legg is always at the best inn, with the finest waistcoats and moustaches, or tearing about in the flashiest of britzskas, while poor Raff is tipsify- ing himself with spirits, and smoking cheap tobacco. It is amazing to think that Legg, so often shown up, and known everywhere, is flourishing yet. He would sink into utter ruin, but for the constant and ardent love of gentility that distinguishes the English Snob. There is many a young fellow of the middle classes who must know Legg to be a rogue and a cheat ; and yet from his desire to be in the fashion, and his admiration of tip-top swells, and from his ambition to air himself by the side of a Lord's son, will let Legg make an income out of him ; content to pay, so long as he can enjoy that society. Many a worthy father of a family, when he hears that his son is riding about with Captain Legg, Lord Levant's son, is rather pleased that young Hopeful should be in such good company. THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 415 Legg and his friend, Major Macer, make professional tours through Europe, and are to be found at the right places at the right time. Last year I heard how my young acquaintance, Mr. Muff, from Oxford, going to see a little life at a Carnival ball at Paris, was accosted by an English- man who did not know a word of the d language, and hearing Muff speak it so admirably, begged him to interpret to a waiter with whom there was a dispute about refresh- ments. It was quite a comfort, the stranger said, to see an honest English face; and did Muff know where there was a good place for supper ? So those two went to supper, and who should come in, of all men in the world, but Major Macer ? And so Legg introduced Macer, and so there came on a little intimacy, and three-card loo, &c., &c. Year after year scores of Muffs, in various places in the world, are victimized by Legg and Macer. The story is so stale, the trick of seduction so entirely old and clumsy, that it is only a wonder people can be taken in any more : but the temptations of vice and gentility together are too much for young English Snobs, and those simple young victims are caught fresh every day. Though it is only to be kicked and cheated by men of fashion, your true British Snob will present himself for the honor. I need not allude here to that very common British Snob, who makes desperate efforts at becoming intimate with the great Continental aristocracy, such as old Rolls, the baker, who has set up his quarters in the Faubourg Saint Germain, and will receive none but Carlists, and no French gentleman under the rank of a Marquis. We can all of us laugh at that fellow's pretensions well enough we who tremble before a great man of our own nation. But, as you say, my brave and honest John Bull of a Snob, a French Marquis of twenty descents is very different from an English Peer ; and a pack of beggarly German and Italian Fuersten and Principi awaken the scorn of an honest-minded Briton. But our aristocracy ! that's a very different matter. They are the real leaders of the world the real old original and- no-mistake nobility. Off with your cap, Snob; down on your knees, Snob, and truckle. CHAPTER XXIV. ON SOME COUNTRY SNOBS. IRED of the town, where the sight of the closed shutters of the nobility, my friends, makes my heart sick in my walks ; afraid almost to sit in those vast Pall Mall solitudes, the Clubs, and of annoying the Club waiters, who might, I thought, be going to shoot in the country, but for me, I determined on a brief tour in the provinces, and paying some visits in the country which were long due. My first visit was to my friend Major Ponto (H. P. of the Horse Marines), in Mangel wurzelshire. The Major, in his little phaeton, was in waiting to take me up at the station. The vehicle was not certainly splendid, but such a carriage as would accommodate a plain man (as Ponto said he was) and a numerous family. We drove by beauti- ful fresh fields and green hedges, through a cheerful Eng- lish landscape ; the high-road, as smooth and trim as the way in a nobleman's park, was charmingly checkered with cool shade and golden sunshine. Rustics in snowy smock- frocks jerked their hats off smiling as we passed. Children, with cheeks as red as the apples in the orchards, bobbed courtesies to us at the cottage-doors. Blue church spires rose here and there in the distance : and as the buxom gardener's wife opened the white gate at the Major's little ivy-covered lodge, and we drove through the neat plantations of firs and evergreens, up to the house, my bosom felt a joy and elation which I thought it was impossible to experience in the smoky atmosphere of a town. " Here," I mentally ex- claimed, " is all peace, plenty, happiness. Here, I shall be rid of Snobs. There can be none in this charming Arcadian spot." Stripes, the Major's man (formerly corporal in his gallant 416 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 417 corps), received my portmanteau, and an elegant little pres- ent, which I had brought from town as a peace-offering to Mrs. Ponto; viz., a cod and oysters from Grove's, in a hamper about the size of a coffin. Ponto's house (" The Evergreens " Mrs. P. has christened it) is a perfect Paradise of a place. It is all over creepers, and bow-windows, and verandas. A wavy lawn tumbles up and down all round it, with flower-beds of wonderful shapes, and zigzag gravel walks, and beautiful but damp shrubberies of myrtles and glistening laurestines, which have procured it its change of name. It was called Little Bullock's Pound in old Doctor Ponto's time. I had a view of the pretty grounds, and the stable, and the adjoining village and church, and a great park beyond, from the windows of the bedroom whither Ponto conducted me. It was the yellow bedroom, the freshest and pleasantest of bedchambers ; the air was fragrant with a large bouquet that was placed on the writing-table ; the linen was fragrant with the lavender in which it had been laid ; the chintz hangings of the bed and the big sofa were, if not fragrant with flowers, at least painted all over with them ; the penwiper on the table was the imitation of a double dahlia ; and there was accommo- dation for my watch in a sunflower on the mantle-piece. A scarlet-leafed creeper came curling over the windows, through which the setting sun was pouring a flood of golden light. It was all flowers and freshness. Oh, how unlike those black chimney-pots in St. Alban's Place, London, on which these weary eyes are accustomed to look. " It must be all happiness here, Ponto," said I, flinging myself down into the snug bergere, and inhaling such a delicious draught of country air as all the millefleurs of Mr. Atkinson's shop cannot impart to any the most expen- sive pocket-handkerchief. " Nice place, isn't it ? " said Ponto. " Quiet and unpre- tending. I like everything quiet. You've not brought your valet with you ? Stripes will arrange your dressing 27 418 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. things ; " and that functionary, entering at the same time, proceeded to gut niy portmanteau, and to lay out the black kerseymeres, "the rich cut velvet Genoa waistcoat," the white choker, and other polite articles of evening costume, with great gravity and despatch. " A great dinner-party," thinks I to myself, seeing these preparations (and not, per- haps displeased at the idea that some of the best people in the neighborhood were coming to see me). " Hark, there's the first bell ringing ! " said Ponto, moving away ; and, in fact, a clamorous harbinger of victuals began clanging from the stable turret, and announced the agreeable fact that dinner would appear in half an hour. " If the dinner is as grand as the dinner-bell," thought I, "faith, I'm in good quarters ! " and had leisure, during the half-hour's interval, not only to advance my own person to the utmost polish of elegance which it is capable of receiving, to admire the pedigree of the Pontos hanging over the chimney, and the Ponto crest and arms emblazoned on the wash-hand basin and jug, but to make a thousand reflections on the happi- ness of a country life upon the innocent friendliness and cordiality of rustic intercourse ; and to sigh for an opportu- nity of retiring, like Ponto, to my own fields, to my own vine and fig-tree, with a placens uxor in my domus, and a half-score of sweet young pledges of affection sporting round my paternal knee. Clang! At the end of the thirty minutes, dinner-bell number two pealed from the adjacent turret. I hastened down stairs, expecting to find a score of healthy country folks in the drawing-room. There was only one person there ; a tall and Roman-nosed lady, glistening over with bugles, in deep mourning. She rose, advanced two steps, made a majestic courtesy, during which all the bugles in her awful head-dress began to twiddle and quiver and then said, " Mr. Snob, we are very happy to see you at the Ever- greens," and heaved a great sigh. This, then, was Mrs. Major Ponto ; to whom making my very best bow, I replied, that I was very proud to make her acquaintance, as also that of so charming a place as the Evergreens. Another sigh. "We are distantly related, Mr. Snob," said she, shaking her melancholy head. " Poor dear Lord Eubadub ! " " Oh ! " said I ; not knowing what the deuce Mrs. Major Ponto meant. THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 419 "Major Ponto told me that you were of the Leicester- shire Snobs : a very old family, and related to Lord Snob- bington, who married Laura Rubadub, who is a cousin of mine, as was her poor dear father, for whom we are mourn- ing. What a seizure ! only sixty -three, and apoplexy quite unknown until now in our family ! In life we are in death, Mr. Snob. Does Lady Snobbington bear the deprivation well ? " " Why, really, ma'am, I I don't know," I replied, more and more confused. As she was speaking I heard a sort of cloop, by which well-known sound I was aware that somebody was opening a bottle of wine, and Ponto entered, in a huge white neck- cloth, and a rather shabby black suit. "My love," Mrs. Major Ponto said to her husband, "we were talking of our cousin poor dear Lord Rubadub. His death has placed some of the first families in England in mourning. Does Lady Rubadub keep the house in Hill Street, do you know ? " I didn't know, but I said, " I believe she does," at a ven- ture ; and, looking down to the drawing-room table, saw the inevitable, abominable, maniacal, absurd, disgusting " Peerage " open on the table, interleaved with annotations, and open at the article " Snobbington." " Dinner is served," says Stripes, flinging open the door ; and I gave Mrs. Major Ponto my arm. CHAPTER XXV. A VISIT TO SOME COUNTRY SNOBS. F the dinner to which we now sat down, I am not going to be a severe critic. The mahogany I hold to be inviolable; but this I will say, that I prefer sherry to marsala when I can get it, and the latter was the wine of which I have no doubt I heard the " cloop " just before dinner. Nor was it particularly good of its kind ; however, Mrs. Major Ponto did not evidently know the difference, for she called the liquor Amontillado during the whole of the repast, and drank but half a glass of it, leaving the rest for the Major and his guest. Stripes was in the livery of the Ponto family a thought shabby, but gorgeous in the extreme lots of magnificent worsted lace, and livery buttons of a very notable size. The honest fellow's hands, I remarked, were very large and black ; and a fine odor of the stable was wafted about the room as he moved to and fro in his ministration. I should have preferred a clean maid-servant, but the sensations of Londoners are too acute perhaps on these subjects ; and a faithful John, after all, is more genteel. From the circumstance of the dinner being composed of pig's-head mock-turtle soup, of pig's fry and roast ribs of 420 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 421 pork, I am led to imagine that one of Ponto's black Hamp- shires had been sacrificed a short time previous to my visit. It was an excellent and comfortable repast ; only there was rather a sameness in it, certainly. I made a similar remark the next day. During the dinner Mrs. Ponto asked me many questions regarding the nobility, my relatives. " When Lady Ange- lina Skeggs would come out; and if the countess her mamma " (this was said with much archness and he-he-ing) " still wore that extraordinary purple hair-dye ? " " Whether my Lord Guttlebury kept, besides his French chef, and an English cordon-bleu for the roasts, an Italian for the con- fectionery ? " " Who attended at Lady Clapperclaw's conversazioni ? " and " whether Sir John Champignon's ' Thursday Mornings ' were pleasant ? " " Was it true that Lady Carabas, wanting to pawn her diamonds, found that they were paste, and that the Marquis had disposed of them beforehand ? " " How was it that Snumn, the great tobacco- merchant, broke off the marriage which was on the tapis between him and their second daughter ; and was it true that a mulatto lady came over from the Havana and for- bade the match ? " " Upon my word, Madam," I had begun, and was going on to say that I didn't know one word about all these mat- ters which seemed so to interest Mrs. Major Ponto, when the Major, giving me a tread or stamp with his large foot under the table, said " Come, come, Snob my boy, we are all tiled, you know. We know you're one of the fashionable people about town ; we saw your name at Lady Clapperclaw's soirees, and the Champignon breakfasts ; and as for the Eubadubs, of course, as relations " " Oh, of course, I dine there twice a-week," I said ; and then I remembered that my cousin, Humphry Snob, of the Middle Temple, is a great frequenter of genteel societies, and to have seen his name in the Morning Post at the tag- end of several party lists. So, taking the hint, I am ashamed to say I indulged Mrs. Major Ponto with a deal of information about the first families in England, such as would astonish those great personages if they knew it. I described to her most accurately the three reigning beauties of last season at Almack's : told her in confidence that his Grace the D of W was going to be married the day after his Statue was put up ; that his Grace the D of 422 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. D was also about to lead the fourth daughter of the Archduke Stephen to the hymeneal altar : and talked to her, in a word, just in the style of Mrs. Gore's last fashion- able novel. Mrs. Major was quite fascinated by this brilliant conver- sation. She began to trot out scraps of French, just for all the world as they do in the novels ; and kissed her hand to me quite graciously, telling me to come soon to caffy, ung pu de Music k o salong with which she tripped off like an elderly fairy. " Shall I open a bottle of port, or do you ever drink such a thing as Hollands and water ? " says Ponto, looking rue- fully at me. This was a very different style of thing to what I had been led to expect from him at our smoking- room at the Club : where he swaggers about his horses and his cellar : and slapping me on the shoulder used to say, " Come down to Mangelwurzelshire, Snob my boy, and I'll give you as good a day's shooting and as good a glass of claret as any in the county." " Well," I said, " I liked Hollands much better than port, and gin even better than Hollands." This was lucky. It was gin ; and Stripes brought in hot water on a splendid plated tray. The jingling of a harp and piano soon announced that Mrs. Ponto's ung pu de Musick had commenced, and the smell of the stable again entering the dining-room, in the person of Stripes, summoned us to caffy and the little con- cert. She beckoned me with a winning smile to the sofa, on which she made room for me, and where we could com- mand a fine view of the backs of the young ladies who were performing the musical entertainment. Very broad backs they were too, strictly according to the present mode, for crinoline or its substitutes is not an expensive luxury, and young people in the country can afford to be in the fashion at very trifling charges. Miss Emily Ponto at the piano, and her sister Maria at that somewhat exploded instrument, the harp, were in light blue dresses that looked all flounce, and spread out like Mr. Green's balloon when inflated. "Brilliant touch Emily has what a fine arm Maria's is," Mrs. Ponto remarked good-naturedly, pointing out the merits of her daughters, and waving her own arm in such a way as to show that she was not a little satisfied with the beauty of that member. I observed she had about nine bracelets and bangles, consisting of chains and padlocks, the Major's miniature, and a variety of brass serpents with fiery THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 423 ruby or tender turquoise eyes, writhing up to ner elbow almost, in the most profuse contortions. " You recognize those polkas ? They were played at Dev- onshire House on the 23d of July, the day of the grand fete." So I said yes I knew 'em quite intimately ; and began wagging my head as if in acknowledgment of those old friends. When the performance was concluded, I had the felicity of a presentation and conversation with the two tall and scraggy Miss Pontos ; and Miss Wirt, the governess, sat down to entertain us with variations on " Sich a gettin' up Stairs." They were determined to be in the fashion. For the performance of the " Gettin' up Stairs," I have no other name but that it was a stunner. First, Miss Wirt, with great deliberation, played the original and beautiful melody, cutting it, as it were, out of the instrument and firing off each note so loud, clear, and sharp, that I am sure Stripes must have heard it in the stable. " What a finger ! " says Mrs. Ponto ; and indeed it was a finger, as knotted as a turkey's drumstick, and splaying all over the piano. When she had banged out the tune slowly, she began a different manner of " Gettin' up Stairs," and did so with a fury and swiftness quite incredible. She spun up stairs ; she whirled up stairs ; she galloped up stairs ; she rattled up stairs ; and then having got the tune to the top landing, as it were, she hurled it down again shrieking to the bottom floor, where it sank in a crash as if exhausted by the breathless rapidity of the descent. Then Miss Wirt played the " Gettin' up Stairs " with the most pathetic and ravishing solemnity : plaintive moans and sobs issued from the keys you wept and trembled as you were gettin' up stairs. Miss Wirt's hands seemed to faint and wail and die in variations : again, and she went up with a savage clang and rush of trumpets, as if Miss Wirt was storming a breach ; and although I knew nothing of music, as I sat and listened with my mouth open to this wonderful display, my caffy grew cold, and I wondered the windows did not crack and the chandelier start out of the beam at the sound of this earthquake of a piece of music. " Glorious creature ! Isn't she ? " said Mrs. Ponto. " Squirtz's favorite pupil inestimable to have such a creature. Lady Carabas would give her eyes for her ! A prodigy of accomplishments ! Thank you, Miss Wirt ! " and the young ladies gave a heave and a gasp of admiration 424 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. a deep-breathing gushing sound, such as you hear at church when the sermon conies to a full stop. Miss Wirt put her two great double-knuckled hands round a waist of her two pupils, and said, " My dear children, I hope you will be able to play it soon as well as your poor little governess. When I lived with the Dunsinanes, it was the dear Duchess's favorite, and Lady Barbara and Lady Jane Macbeth learned it. It was while hearing Jane play that, I remember, that dear Lord Castletoddy first fell in love with her ! and though he is but an Irish Peer, with not more than fifteen thousand a year, I persuaded Jane to have hini. Do you know Castletoddy, Mr. Snob ? round towers sweet place County Mayo. Old Lord Castle- toddy (the present Lord was then Lord Inishowan) was a most eccentric old man they say he was mad. I heard his Eoyal Highness the poor dear Duke of Sussex (such a man, my dears, but alas ! addicted to smoking !) I heard his Eoyal Highness say to the Marquis of Anglesea, ' I am sure Castletoddy is mad ! ' but Inishowan wasn't in marry- ing my sweet Jane, though the dear child had but her ten thousand pounds pour tout potarje ! " " Most invaluable person," whispered Mrs. Major Ponto to me. " Has lived in the very highest society ; " and I, who have been accustomed to see governesses bullied in the world, was delighted to find this one ruling the roast, and to think that even the majestic Mrs. Ponto bent before her. As for my pipe, so to speak, it went out at once. I hadn't a word to say against a woman who was intimate with every Duchess in the Eed Book. She wasn't the rosebud, but she had been near it. She had rubbed shoulders with the great, and about these we talked all the evening incessantly, and about the fashions, and about the Court, until bedtime came. " And are there Snobs in this Elysium ? " I exclaimed, jumping into the lavender-perfumed bod. Ponto's snoring boomed from the neighboring bedroom in reply. CHAPTER XXVI. ON SOME COUNTRY SNOBS. QOMETHING like a journal of the proceedings of the JO Evergreens may be interesting to those foreign readers of Punch who want to know the customs of an English gentleman's family and household. There's plenty of time to keep the Journal. Piano-strumming begins at six o'clock in the morning ; it lasts till breakfast, with but a minute's intermission, when the instrument changes hands, and Miss Emily practises in place of her sister Miss Maria. In fact, the confounded instrument never stops : when the young ladies are at their lessons, Miss Wirt hammers away at those stunning variations, and keeps her magnifi- cent finger in exercise. I asked this great creature in what other branches of education she instructed her pupils ? " The modern lan- guages," says she modestly: "French, German, Spanish, and Italian, Latin and the rudiments of Greek if desired. English of course : the practice of Elocution, Geography, and Astronomy, and the Use of the Globes, Algebra (but only as far as quadratic equations) : for a poor ignorant 425 426 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. female, you know, Mr. Snob, cannot be expected to know everything. Ancient and Modern History no young woman can be without ; and of these I make my beloved pupils perfect mistresses. Botany, Geology, and Mineralogy, I consider as amusements. And with these I assure you we manage to pass the days at the Evergreens not unpleas- antly." Only these, thought I what an education ! But I looked in one of Miss Ponto's manuscript song-books and found five faults in French in four words : and in a waggish mood asking Miss Wirt whether Dante Algiery was so called because he was born at Algiers, received a smiling answer in the affirmative, which made me rather doubt about the accuracy of Miss Wirt's knowledge. When the above little morning occupations are concluded, these unfortunate young women perform what they call Calisthenic Exercises in the garden. I saw them to-day, without any crinoline, pulling the garden-roller. Dear Mrs. Ponto was in the garden too, and as limp as her daughters ; in a faded bandeau of hair, in a battered bonnet, in a holland pinafore, in pattens, on a broken chair, snipping leaves off a vine. Mrs. Ponto measures many yards about in an evening. Ye heavens ! what a guy she is in that skeleton morning-costume ! Besides Stripes, they keep a boy called Thomas or Tum- mus. Tummus works in the garden or about the pigsty and stable; Thomas wears a page's costume of eruptive buttons. When anybody calls, and Stripes is out of the way, Tuni- mus flings himself like mad into Thomas's clothes, and comes out metamorphosed like Harlequin in the pantomime. To-day, as Mrs. P. was cutting the grape-vine, as the young ladies were at the roller, down comes Tummus like a roar- ing whirlwind, with "Missus, Missus, there's company coomin' ! " Away scurry the young ladies from the roller, down comes Mrs. P. from the old chair, off flies Tummus to change his clothes, and in an incredibly short space of time Sir John Hawbuck, my Lady Hawbuck, and Master Hugh Hawbuck are introduced into the garden with brazen effrontery by Thomas, who says, " Please Sir Jan and my Lady to walk this year way : I know Missus is in the rose- garden." And there, sure enough, she was ! THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 427 In a pretty little garden bonnet, with beautiful curling ringlets, with the smartest of aprons and the freshest of pearl-colored gloves, this amazing woman was in the arms of her dearest Lady Hawbuck. " Dearest Lady Hawbuck, how good of you ! Always among my flowers ! can't live away from them ! " " Sweets to the sweet ! hum a-ha haw ! " says Sir John Hawbuck, who piques himself on his gallantry, and says nothing without " a-hum a-ha a-haw ! " " Whereth yaw pinnafaw ? " cries Master Hugh. " We thaw you in it, over the wall, didn't we, Pa ? " " Hum a-ha a-haw ! " burst out Sir John, dreadfully alarmed. " Where's Ponto ? Why wasn't he at Quarter Sessions ? How are his birds this year, Mrs. Ponto have those Carabas pheasants done any harm to your wheat ? a- hum a-ha a-haw ! " and all this while he was making the most ferocious and desperate signals to his youthful heir. " "Well, she wat h in her pinnafaw, wathii't she, Ma ? " says Hugh, quite unabashed ; which question Lady Haw- 428 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. buck turned away with a sudden query regarding her dear darling daughters, and the enfant terrible was removed by his father. " I hope you weren't disturbed by the music ? " Ponto says. " My girls, you know, practise four hours a day, you know must do it, you know absolutely necessary. As for me, you know I'm an early man, and in my farm every morning at five no, no laziness for me" The facts are these. Ponto goes to sleep directly after dinner on entering the drawing-room, and wakes up when the ladies leave off practice at ten. From seven till ten, and from ten till five, is a very fair allowance of slumber for a man who says he is not a lazy man. It is my private opinion that when Ponto retires to what is called his " Study," he sleeps too. He locks himself up there daily two hours with the newspaper. I saw the Hawbuck scene out of the Study, which com- mands the garden. It's a curious object, that Study. Pon- to's library mostly consists of boots. He and Stripes have important interviews here of mornings, when the potatoes are discussed, or the fate of the calf ordained, or sentence passed on the pig, &c. All the Major's bills are docketed on the Study table and displayed like a lawyer's briefs. Here, too, lie displayed his hooks, knives and other garden- ing irons, his whistles, and strings of spare buttons. He has a drawer of endless brown paper for parcels, and anoth- er containing a prodigious and never-failing supply of string. What a man can want of so many gig-whips I can never conceive. These, and fishing-rods, and landing-nets, and spurs, and boot-trees, and balls for horses, and surgical in- struments for the same, and favorite pots of shiny blacking, with which he paints his own shoes in the most elegant manner, and buckskin gloves stretched out on their trees, and his gorget, sash, and sabre of the Horse Marines, with his boot-hooks underneath in a trophy ; and the family medicine-chest, and in a corner the very rod with which he used to whip his son, Wellesley Ponto, when a boy (Welles- ley never entered the " Study " but for that awful purpose) all these, with " Mogg's Eoad Book," the Gardeners' Chronicle, and a backgammon-board, form the Major's li- brary. Under the trophy there's a picture of Mrs. Ponto, in a light blue dress and train, and no waist, when she was THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 429 first married ; a fox's brush lies over the frame, and serves to keep the dust off that work of art. " My library's small," says Ponto, with the most amazing impudence, " but well selected, my boy well selected. I have been reading the ' History of England ' all the morn- ing." CHAPTER XXVII. A VISIT TO SOME COUNTRY SNOBS. E had the fish, which, as the kind reader may remember, I had brought down in a del- icate attention to Mrs. Ponto, to variegate the repast of next day ; and cod and oys- ter-sauce, twice laid, salt cod and scalloped oysters, formed parts of the bill of fare un- til I began to fancy that the Ponto family, like our late revered monarch George II., had a fancy for stale fish. And about this time, the pig being consumed, we began upon a sheep. But how shall I forget the solemn splendor of a second course, which was served up in great state by Stripes in a silver dish and cover, a napkin twisted around his dirty thumbs ; and consisted of a land-rail, not much bigger than a corpulent sparrow. " My love, will you take any game ? " says Ponto, with prodigious gravity; and stuck his fork into that little mouthful of an island in the silver sea. Stripes, too, at in- tervals, dribbled out the Marsala with a solemnity which would have done honor to a Duke's butler. The Barme- cide's dinner to Shacabac was only one degree removed from these solemn banquets. As there were plenty of pretty country places close by ; a comfortable country town, with good houses of gentle- folks ; a beautiful old parsonage, close to the church whith- er we went (and where the Carabas family have their an- cestral carved and monumented Gothic pew), and every 430 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 431 appearance of good society in the neighborhood, I rather wondered we were not enlivened by the appearance of some of the neighbors at the Evergreens, and asked about them. " We can't in our position of life we can't well associ- ate with the attorney's family, as I leave you to suppose," said Mrs. Ponto, confidentially. "Of course not," I an- swered, though I didn't know why. " And the Doctor ? " said I. " A most excellent worthy creature," says Mrs. P. ; " saved Maria's life really a learned man ; but what can one do in one's position ? One may ask one's medical man to one's table certainly : but his family, my dear Mr. Snob ! " " Half a dozen little gallipots," interposed Miss Wirt, the governess : "he, he, he ! " and the young ladies laughed in chorus. " We only live -with the county families," Miss Wirt * * I have since heard that this aristocratic lady's father was a liv- ery-button-maker in St. Martin's Lane: where he met with mis- fortunes, and his daughter acquired her taste for heraldry. But it may be told to her credit, that out of her earnings she has kept the bedridden old bankrupt in great comfort and secrecy at Pentonville; and furnished her brother's outfit for the Cadetship which her patron, Lord Swigglebiggle, gave her when he was at the Board of Control. I have this information from a friend. To hear Miss Wirt herself, you would fancy that her Papa was a Rothschild, and that the markets of Europe were convulsed when he went into the Gazette. 432 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. continued, tossing up her head. " The Duke is abroad : we are at feud with the Carabases ; the Bingwoods don't come down till Christmas : in fact, nobody's here till the hunting- season positively nobody." "Whose is the large red house just outside of the town ? " " What ! the chateau calicot ? he, he, he ! That purse- proud ex-linendraper, Mr. Yardly, with the yellow liveries, and the wife in red velvet ? How can you, my dear Mr. Snob, be so satirical ? The impertinence of those people is really something quite overwhelming." "Well, then, there is the parson, Doctor Chrysostom. He's a gentleman, at any rate." At this Mrs. Ponto looked at Miss Wirt. After their eyes had met and they had wagged their heads at each oth- er, they looked up to the ceiling. So did the young ladies. They thrilled. It was evident I had said something very terrible. Another black sheep in the Church ? thought I, with a little sorrow ; for I don't care to own that I have a respect for the cloth. "I I hope there's nothing wrong ? " " Wrong ? " says Mrs. P., clasping her hands with a tragic air. " Oh ! " says Miss Wirt, and the two girls, gasping in chorus. " Well," says I, " I'm very sorry for it. I never saw a nicer-looking old gentleman, or a better school, or heard a better sermon." " He used to preach those sermons in a surplice," hissed out Mrs. Ponto. " He's a Puseyite, Mr. Snob." "Heavenly powers!" says I, admiring the pure ardor of these female theologians ; and Stripes came in with the tea. It's so weak that no wonder Ponto's sleep isn't disturbed by it. Of mornings we used to go out shooting. We had Ponto's own fields to sport over (where we got the fieldfare), and the non-preserved part of the Hawbuck property : and one evening in a stubble of Ponto's skirting the Carabas woods, we got among some pheasants, and had some real sport. I shot a hen, I know, greatly to my delight. " Bag it," says Ponto, in rather a hurried manner : "here's somebody com- ing." So I pocketed the bird. " You infernal poaching thieves ! " roars out a man from the hedge in the garb of a gamekeeper. " I wish I could THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 433 catch you on this side of the hedge. I'd put a brace of barrels into you, that I would." " Curse that Snapper," says Ponto, moving off ; " he's al- ways watching me like a spy." " Carry off the birds, you sneaks, and sell 'em in Lon- don," roars the individual, who it appears was a keeper of Lord Carabas. " You'll get six shillings a brace for 'em." "You know the price of 'em well enough, and so does your master too, you scoundrel," says Ponto, still retreat- ing. " We kills 'em on our ground," cries Mr. Snapper. " We don't set traps for other people's birds. We're no decoy ducks. We're no sneaking poachers. We don't shoot 'ens, like that 'ere Cockney, who's got the tail of one a-sticking out of his pocket. Only just come across the hedge, that's all." " I tell you what," says Stripes, who was out with us as keeper this day (in fact he's keeper, coachman, gardener, valet, and bailiff, with Tummus under him), " if you'll come across, John Snapper, and take your coat off, I'd give you such a whopping as you've never had since the last time I did it at Guttlebury Fair." " Whop one of your own weight," Mr. Snapper said, whis- tling his dogs, and disappearing into the wood. And so we came out of this controversy rather victoriously ; but I be- gan to alter my preconceived ideas of rural felicity. CHAPTER XXVIII. ON SOME COUNTRY SNOBS. E hanged to your aristocrats ! " Ponto said, in some conversation we had regarding the family at Carabas, between whom and the Evergreens there was a feud. " When I first came into the county it was the year before Sir John Buff contested in the Blue interest the Marquis, then Lord St. Michaels, who, of course, was Orange to the core, paid me and Mrs. Ponto such attentions, that I fairly con- fess I was taken in by the old humbug, and thought that I'd met with a rare neighbor. 'Gad, Sir, we used to get pines from Carabas, and pheasants from Cara- bas, and it was 'Ponto, when will you come over and shoot ? ' and ' Ponto, our pheasants want thinning,' and my Lady would insist upon her dear Mrs. Ponto coming over to Carabas to sleep, and put me I don't know to what expense for turbans and velvet gowns for my wife's toilet. Well, sir, the election takes place, and though I was always a Liberal, personal friendship of course induces me to plump for St. Michaels, who comes in at the head of the poll. Next year, Mrs. P. insists upon going to town with lodgings in Clarges Street at ten pounds a week, with a hired brougham, and new dresses for herself and the girls, and the deuce and all to pay. Our first cards were to Carabas House ; my Lady's are returned by a great big flunky : and I leave you to fan- cy my poor Betsy's discomfiture as the lodging-house maid took in the cards, and Lady St. Michaels drives away, though she actually saw us at the drawing-room window. Would you believe it, Sir, that though we called four times afterwards, those infernal aristocrats never returned our visit; that though Lady St. Michaels gave nine dinner- 434 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 435 parties and four dejeuners that season, she never asked us to one ; and that she cut us dead at the Opera, though Betsy was nodding to her the whole night ? We wrote to her for tickets for Almack's ; she writes to say that all hers were promised ; and said, in the presence of Wiggins, her lady's-maid, who told it to Diggs, my wife's woman, that she couldn't conceive how people in our station of life could so far forget themselves as to wish to appear in any such place ! Go to Castle Carabas ! I'd sooner die than set my foot in the house of that impertinent, insolvent, insolent jack- anapes and I hold him in scorn ! " After this, Ponto gave me some private information regarding Lord Carabas's pecuniary affairs ; how he owed money all over the county ; how Jukes, the carpenter, was utterly ruined and couldn't get a shilling of his bill; how Biggs, the butcher, hanged himself for the same reason; how the six big footmen never received a guinea of wages, and Snaffle, the state coachman, actually took off his blown-glass wig of cere- mony and flung it at Lady Carabas's feet on the terrace before the castle ; all which stories, as they are private, I do not think proper to divulge. But these details did not stifle my desire to see the famous mansion of Castle Cara- bas, nay, possibly excited my interest to know more about that lordly house and its owners. At the entrance of the park, there are a pair of great gaunt mildewed lodges mouldy Doric temples with black chimney-pots, in the finest classic taste, and the gates of course are surmounted by the chats lottes, the well known supporters of the Carabas family. " Give the lodge-keeper a shilling," says Ponto (who drove me near to it in his four-wheeled cruelty-chaise). " I warrant it's the first piece of ready money he has received for some time." I don't know whether there was any foundation for this sneer, but the gratuity was received with a courtesy, and the gate opened for me to enter. " Poor old porteress ! " says I, inwardly. " You little know that it is the Historian of Snobs whom you let in ! " The gates were passed. A damp green stretch of park spread right and left immeasurably, confined by a chilly gray wall, and a damp long straight road between two huge rows of moist, dismal lime-trees, leads up to the Castle. In the midst of the park is a great black tank or lake, bristling over with rushes, and here and there covered over with patches of pea-soup. A shabby temple rises on 436 THE BOOK OF SNOBS, an island in this delectable lake, which is approached by a rotten barge that lies at roost in a dilapidated boat-house. Clumps of elms and oaks dot over the huge green flat. Every one of them would have been down long since, but that the Marquis is not allowed to cut the timber. Up that long avenue the Snobographer walked in solitude. At the seventy-ninth tree on the left-hand side, the insol- vent butcher hanged himself. I scarcely wondered at the dismal deed, so woful and sad were the impressions con- nected with the place. So, for a mile and a half I walked alone and thinking of death. I forgot to say the house is in full view all the way except when intercepted by the trees on the miserable island in the lake an enormous red-brick mansion, square, vast, and dingy. It is flanked by four stone towers with weathercocks. In the midst of the grand facade is a huge Ionic portico, approached by a vast, lonely, ghastly stair- case. Rows of black windows, framed in stone, stretch on either side, right and left three stories and eighteen win- dows of a row. You may see a picture of the palace and staircase, in the " Views of England and Wales," with four carved and gilt carriages waiting at the gravel walk, and several parties of ladies and gentlemen in wigs and hoops, dotting the fatiguing lines of the stairs. But these stairs are made in great houses for people not to ascend. The first Lady Carabas (they are but eighty years in the peerage), if she got out of her gilt coach in a shower, would be wet to the skin before she got half-way to the carved Ionic portico, where four dreary statues of Peace, Plenty, Piety, and Patriotism, are the only sentinels. You enter these palaces by back-doors. "That was the way the Carabases got their peerage," the misanthropic Ponto said after dinner. Well I rang the bell at a little low side-door; it clanged and jingled and echoed for a long, long while, till at length a face, as of a housekeeper, peered through the door, and, as she saw my hand in my waistcoat pocket, opened it. Unhappy, lonely housekeeper, I thought. Is Miss Crusoe in her island more solitary? The door clapped to, and I was in Castle Carabas. "The side entrance and All," says the housekeeper. " The halligator hover the mantle-piece was brought home by Hadmiral St. Michaels, when a Capting with Lord Han- son, The harms on the cheers is the harms of the Carabas THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 437 family." The hall was rather comfortable. We went clapping up a clean stone backstair, and then into a back passage cheerfully decorated with ragged light-green Kid- derminster, and issued upon "THE GREAT ALL. " The great all is seventy-two feet in lenth, fifty-six in breath, and thirty-eight feet 'igh. The carvings of the chimlies, representing the buth of Venus, and Ercules, and Eyelash, is by Van Chislum, the most famous sculpture of his hage and country. The ceiling, by Calimanco, repre- sents Painting, Harchitecture and Music (the naked female figure with the barrel horgan) introducing George, fust Lord Carabas to the Temple of the Muses. The winder ornaments is by Vanderputty. The floor is Patagonian marble ; and the chandelier in the centre was presented to Lionel, second Marquis, by Lewy the Sixteenth, whose 'ead was cut hoff in the French Eevelation. We now henter "THE SOUTH GALLERY. " One 'undred and forty -eight in lenth by thirty-two in breath ; it is profusely hornaminted by the choicest works of Hart. Sir Andrew Katz, founder of the Carabas family and banker of the Prince of Horange, Kneller. Her pres- ent Ladyship, by Lawrence. Lord St. Michaels, by the same he is represented sittin' on a rock in velvit panta- loons. Moses in the bullrushes the bull very fine, by Paul Potter. The toilet of Venus, Fantaski. Flemish Bores drinking, Van Ginnums. Jupiter and Europia, de Horn. The Grandjunction Canal, Venis, by Candleetty; and Italian Bandix, by Slavata Rosa." And so this worthy woman went on, from one room into another, from the blue room to the green, and the green to the grand saloon, and the grand saloon to the tapestry closet, cackling her list of pictures and wonders : and furtively turning up a corner of brown holland to show the color of the old, faded, seedy, mouldy, dismal hangings. At last we came to her Ladyship's bedroom. In the centre of this dreary apartment there is a bed about the size of one of those whizgig temples in which the Genius appears in a pantomime. The huge gilt edifice is ap- proached by steps, and so tall, that it might be let off in floors, for sleeping-rooms for all the Carabas family. An 438 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. awful bed ! A murder might be done at one end of that bed, and people sleeping at the other end be ignorant of it. Gracious powers ! fancy little Lord Carabas in a nightcap ascending those steps after putting out the candle ! The sight of that seedy and solitary splendor was too much for me. I should go mad were I that lonely house- keeper in those enormous galleries in that lonely library, filled up with ghastly folios that nobody dares read, with an inkstand on the centre table like the coffin of a baby, and sad portraits staring at you from the bleak walls with their solemn mouldy eyes. No wonder that Carabas does not come down here often. It would require two thousand footmen to make the place cheerful. No wonder the coachman resigned his wig, that the masters are insolvent, and the servants perish in this huge dreary out-at-elbow place. A single family has no more right to build itself a temple of that sort than to erect a tower of Babel. Such a habita- tion is not decent for a mere mortal man. But, after all, I suppose poor Carabas had no choice. Fate put him there as it sent Napoleon to St. Helena. Suppose it had been decreed by Nature that you and I should be Marquises ? We wouldn't refuse, I suppose, but take Castle Carabas and all, with debts, duns, and mean makeshifts, and shabby pride, and swindling magnificence. Next season, when I read of Lady Carabas's splendid entertainments in the Morning Post, and see the poor old insolvent cantering through the Park I shall have a much tenderer interest in these great people than I have had heretofore. Poor old shabby Snob! Kide on and fancy the world is still on its knees before the house of Carabas ! Give yourself airs, poor old bankrupt Magnifico, who are under money-obligations to your flunkies ; and must stoop so as to swindle poor tradesmen ! And for us, my brother Snobs, oughtn't we to feel happy if our walk through life is more even, and that we are out of the reach of that surprising arrogance and that astounding meanness to which this wretched old victim is obliged to mount and descend ? CHAPTER XXIX. A VISIT TO SOME COUNTRY SNOBS. OTABLE as my reception had been (under that unfortunate mis- take of Mrs. Ponto that I was related to Lord Snobbington, which I was not permitted to correct), it was nothing compared to the bow- ing and kotooing, the raptures and flurry which preceded and wel- comed the visit of a real live lord and lord's son, a brother officer of Cornet Wellesley Ponto, in the 120th Hussars, who came over with the young Cornet from Guttlebury, where their distinguished regiment was quartered. This was my Lord Gules, Lord Saltire's grandson and heir: a very young, short, sandy- haired and tobacco-smoking noble- man, who cannot have left the nursery very long, and who, though he accepted the honest Major's invitation to the Evergreens in a letter written in a school-boy handwriting, with a number of faults of spell- ing, may yet be a very fine classical scholar for what I know : having had his education at Eton, where he and young Ponto were inseparable. At any rate, if he can't write, he has mastered a number of other accomplishments wonderful for one of his age and size. He is one of the best shots and riders in England. He rode his horse Abracadabra, and won the famous Guttlebury steeplechase. He has horses entered at half the races in the country (under other people's names ; for the old lord is a strict hand, and will not hear of betting or 439 440 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. gambling). He has lost and won such sums of money as my Lord George himself might be proud of. He knows all the stables, and all the jockeys, and has all the "informa- tion," and is a match for the best Leg at Newmarket. No- body was ever known to be " too much " for him : at play or in the stable. Although his grandfather makes him a moderate allow- ance, by the aid of post-obits and convenient friends he can live in a splendor becoming his rank. He has not distin- guished himself in the knocking down of policemen much ; he is not big enough for that. But, as a light-weight, his skill is of the very highest order. At billiards he is said to be first-rate. He drinks and smokes as much as any two of the biggest officers in his regiment. "With such high talents, who can say how far he may not go ? He may take to politics as a delassement, and be Prime Minister after Lord George Bentinck. My young friend Wellesley Ponto is a gaunt and bony youth, with a pale face profusely blotched. From his con- tinually pulling something on his chin, I am led to fancy that he believes he has what is called an Imperial growing there. That is not the only tuft that is hunted in the family, by the way. He can't, of course, indulge in those expensive amusements which render his aristocratic com- rade so respected ; he bets pretty freely when he is in cash, and rides when somebody mounts him (for he can't afford more than his regulation chargers). At drinking he is by no means inferior ; and why do you think he brought his noble friend, Lord Gules, to the Evergreens? Why? because he intended to ask his mother to order his father to pay his debts, which she couldn't refuse before such an exalted presence. Young Ponto gave me all this information with the most engaging frankness. We are old friends. I used to tip him when he was at school. "Gad!" says he, "our wedgment's so doothid exthpenthif. Must hunt, you know. A man couldn't live in the wedg- ment if he didn't. Mess expenses enawmuth. Must dine at mess. Must drink champagne and claret. Ours ain't a port and sherry light-infantry mess. Uniform's awful. Fitzstultz, our Colonel, will have 'em so. Must be a dis- tinction you know. At his own expense Fitzstultz altered the plumes in the men's caps (you called them shaving- THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 441 brushes, Snob, my boy : most absurd and unjust that attack of yours, by the way) ; that altewation alone cotht him five hundred pound. The year befaw latht he horthed the wegi- ment at an immenthe expenthe, and we're called the Queen'th Own Pyebalds from that day. Ever theen uth on pawade ? The Empewar Nicolath burtht into tearth of envy when he thaw uth at Windthor. And you see," con- tinued my young friend, " I brought Gules down with me, as the Governor is very sulky about shelling out, just to talk my mother over, who can do anything with him. Gules told her that I was Fitzstultz's favorite of the whole regiment ; and, Gad ! she thinks the Horse Guards will give me my troop for nothing, and he humbugged the Governor that I was the greatest screw in the army. Ain't it a good dodge ? " With this Wellesley left me to go and smoke a cigar in the stables with Lord Gules, and make merry over the cattle there, under Stripes's superintendence. Young Ponto laughed with his friend, at the venerable four-wheeled cruelty-chaise; but seemed amazed that the latter should ridicule still more an ancient chariot of the build of 1824, emblazoned immensely with the arms of the Pontos and the Snaileys, from which latter distinguished family Mrs. Ponto issued. I found poor Pon in his study among his boots, in such a rueful attitude of despondency, that I could not but remark it. " Look at that ! " says the poor fellow, handing me over a document. " It's the second change in uniform since he's been in the army, and yet there's no extrav- agance about the lad. Lord Gules tells me he is the most careful youngster in the regiment, God bless him! But look at that ! by heaven, Snob, look at that, and say how can a man of nine hundred keep out of the Bench ? " He gave a sob as he handed me the paper across the table ; and his old face, and his old corduroys, and his shrunk shooting-jacket, and his lean shanks, looked, as he spoke, more miserably haggard, bankrupt, and thread- bare. 442 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. with gold Ditto Pelisse . Dress Pantaloons . Ditto Overalls, gold lace on sides . . .660 Undress ditto ditto . .550 Blue Braided Frock . 14 14 Forage Cap . . .330 Dress cap, gold lines, plume and chain . . 25 Gold Barrelled Sash . 11 18 Carried forward 219 1 s. d. Brought forward 219 10 Lieut. Wellesley Ponto, 120th Queen's Own Pyebald Hussars, To Knopf and Stecknadel, Conduit Street, London. Dress Jacket, richly laced s. d. with gold . . . 35 Ditto Pelisse ditto, and trimmed with sable . 60 Undress Jacket, trimmed . 15 15 . 30 . 12 Sword Ditto Belt and Sabre- tache Pouch and Belt . Sword Knot . Cloak .... Valise .... Regulation Saddle Ditto Bridle, complete A Dress Housing, com- plete .... A pair of Pistols . A Black Sheepskin, edged 11 11 16 16 15 15 140 13 13 3 13 6 7 17 6 10 10 30 10 10 6 18 347 9 That evening Mrs. Ponto and her family made their darling Wellesley give a full, true, and particular account of everything that had taken place at Lord Fitzstultz's ; how many servants waited at dinner ; and how the Ladies Schneider dressed ; and what his Royal Highness said when he came down to shoot ; and who was there ? " What a blessing that boy is to me ! " said she, as my pimple-faced young friend moved off to resume smoking operations with Gules in the now vacant kitchen ; and poor Ponto's dreary and desperate look, shall I ever forget that ? O you parents and guardians ! you men and women of sense in England ! you legislators about to assemble in Parliament! read over that tailor's bill above printed read over that absurd catalogue of insane gimcracks and madman's tomfoolery and say how are you ever to get rid of Snobbishness when society does so much for its edu- cation ? Three hundred and forty pounds for a young chap's sad- dle and breeches! Before George, I would rather be a Hottentot or a Highlander. We laugh at poor Jocko, the monkey, dancing in uniform ; or at poor Jeames, the flunky, with his quivering calves and plush tights ; or at the nigger Marquis of Marmalade, dressed out with sabre and epaulets, and giving himself the airs of a field-marshal. Lo ! is not one of the Queen's Pyebalds, in full fig, as great and foolish a monster ? CHAPTEE XXX. ON SOME COUNTRY SNOBS. T last came that fortunate day at the Ever- greens, when I was to be made acquainted with some of the "county families" with whom only people of Ponto's rank condescended to associate. And now, although poor Ponto had just been so cruelly made to bleed on occasion of his son's new uniform, and though he was in the direst and most cut-throat spirits with an over-drawn account at the banker's, and other pressing evils of poverty ; although a tenpenny bottle of Marsala and an awful parsimony presided generally at his table, yet the poor fellow was obliged to assume the most frank and jovial air of cordiality ; and all the covers being removed from the hangings, and new dresses being pro- cured for the young ladies, and the family plate being un- locked and displayed, the house and all within assumed a benevolent and festive appearance. The kitchen fires began to blaze, the good wine ascended from the cellar, a professed cook actually came over from Guttlebury to com- pile culinary abominations. Stripes was in a new coat, and so was Ponto, for a wonder, and Tummus's button suit was worn en permanence. * And all this to show off the little lord, thinks I. All this in honor of a stupid little cigarrified Cornet of dragoons, who can barely write his name, while an emi- nent and profound moralist like somebody is fobbed off with cold mutton and relays of pig. Well, well : a mar- tyrdom of cold mutton is just bearable. I pardon Mrs. Ponto, from my heart I do, especially as I wouldn't turn out of the best bedroom, in spite of all her hints ; but held * I caught him in this costume, trying the flavor of the sauce of a tipsy-cake, which was made by Mrs. Ponto's own hands for her guests' delectation. 443 444 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. my ground in the chintz tester, vowing that Lord Gules, as a young man, was quite small and hardy enough to make himself comfortable elsewhere. The great Ponto party was a very august one. The Haw- bucks came in their family coach, with the blood-red hand emblazoned all over it: and their man in yellow livery waited in country fashion at table, only to be exceeded in splendor by the Hipsleys, the opposition baronet, in light blue. The old Ladies Fitzague drove over in their little old chariot with the fat black horses, the fat coachman, the fat footman (why are dowagers' horses and footmen always fat ?) And soon after these personages had arrived, with their auburn fronts and red beaks and turbans, came the Honorable and Reverend Lionel Pettipois, who with Gen- eral and Mrs. Sago formed the rest of the party. " Lord and Lady Frederick Howlet were asked, but they have friends at Ivybush," Mrs. Ponto told me ; and that very morning, the Castlehaggards sent an excuse, as her lady- ship had a return of the quinsy. Between ourselves, Lady Castlehaggard's quinsy always comes on when there is din- ner at the Evergreens. If the keeping of polite company could make a woman THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 445 happy, surely my kind hostess Mrs. Ponto "was on that day a happy woman. Every person present (except the un- lucky impostor who pretended to a connection with the Snobbington Family, and General Sago, who had brought home I don't know how many lacs of rupees from India) was related to the Peerage or the Baronetage. Mrs. P. had her heart's desire. If she had been an Earl's daughter her- self could she have expected better company? and her family were in the oil-trade at Bristol, as all her friends very well know. What I complained of in my heart was not the dining which, for this once, was plentiful and comfortable enough but the prodigious dulness of the talking part of the en- tertainment. my beloved brother Snobs of the City, if we love each other no better than our country brethren, at least we amuse each other more ; if we bore ourselves, we are not called upon to go ten miles to do it ! For instance, the Hipsleys came ten miles from the south, and the Hawbucks ten miles from the north, of the Evergreens ; and were magnates in two different divisions of the county Mangelwurzelshire. Hipsley, who is an ol* UCH a sensation has been created in the Clubs by the appearance of the last paper on Club Snobs, as can't but be complimentary to me who am one of their number. I belong to many Clubs. The " Union Jack," the " Sash and Mar- lin-spike " Military Clubs. "The True Blue," the "No Surrender," the " Blue and Buff," the " Guy Fawkes," and the "Cato Street " Political Clubs. The " Brummell " and the " Eegent," Dandy Clubs. The " Acropolis," the " Palladium," the " Areopagus," the " Pnyx," the " Pentelicus," the " Ilissus," and the " Polu- phloisboio Thalasses " Literary Clubs. I never could make out how the latter set of Clubs got their names ; I don't know Greek for one, and I wonder how many other members of those institutions do ? Ever since the Club Snobs have been announced, I observe a sensation created on my entrance into any one of these places. Members get up and hustle together ; they nod, they scowl, as they glance towards the present Snob. " In- fernal impudent jackanapes ! If he shows me up," says Colonel Bludyer, " I'll break every bone in his skin." " I told you what would come of admitting literary men into the Club," says Ranville Ranville to his colleague, Spooney, of the Tape and Sealing-Wax Office. "These people are very well in their proper places, and as a public man I make a point of shaking hands with them, and that sort of thing ; but to have one's privacy obtruded upon by such people is really too much. Come along, Spooney," and the pair of prigs retire superciliously. As I came into the coffee-room at the "No Surrender," 482 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 483 old Jawkins was holding out to a knot of men, who were yawning, as usual. There he stood, waving the Standard, and swaggering before the fire. " What," says he, " did I tell Peel last year ? If you touch the Corn Laws, you touch the Sugar Question ; if you touch the Sugar you touch the Tea. I am no monopolist. I am a liberal man, but I can- not forget that I stand on the brink of a precipice ; and if we are to have Free Trade, give me reciprocity. And what was Sir Robert Peel's answer to me ? ( Mr. Jawkins,' he said " Here Jawkins's eye suddenly turning on your humble servant, he stopped his sentence, with a guilty look his stale old stupid sentence, which every one of us at the Club has heard over and over again. Jawkins is a most pertinacious Club Snob. Every day he is at that fireplace, holding that Standard, of which he reads up the leading article, and pours it out ore rotundo, with the most astonishing composure, in the face of his neigh- bor, who has just read every word of it in the paper. Jaw- kins has money, as you may see by the tie of his neck-cloth. He passes the morning swaggering about the City, in bankers' and brokers' parlors, and says : "1 spoke with Peel yesterday, and his intentions are so and so. Graham and I were talking over the matter, and I pledge you my 484 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. word of honor, his opinion coincides with mine ; and that What-d'ye-call'um is the only measure Government will ven- ture on trying." By evening-paper time he is at the Club : " I can tell you the opinion of the City, my lord," says he, " and the way in which Jones Loyd looks at it is briefly this ; Rothschilds told me so themselves. In Mark Lane, people's mind are quite made up." He is considered rather a well-informed man. He lives in Belgravia, of course ; in a drab-colored genteel house, and has everything about him that is properly grave, dismal, and comfortable. His dinners are in the Morning Herald, among the parties for the week ; and his wife and daughters make a very handsome appear- ance at the Drawing-room once a year, when he comes down to the Club in his Deputy-Lieutenant's uniform. He is fond of beginning a speech to you by saying, "When I was in the House, I, &c." in fact he sat for Skittlebury for three weeks in the first Reformed Parlia- ment, and was unseated for bribery ; since which he has three times unsuccessfully contested that honorable borough. Another sort of Political Snob I have seen at most Clubs, and that is the man who does not care so much for home politics, but is great upon foreign affairs. I think this sort of man is scarcely found anywhere but in Clubs. It is for him the papers provide their foreign articles, at the expense of some ten thousand a year each. He is the man who is really seriously uncomfortable about the designs of Russia, and the atrocious treachery of Louis Philippe. He it is who expects a French fleet in the Thames, and has a constant eye upon the American President, every word of whose speech (goodness help him !) he reads. He knows the names of the contending leaders in Portugal, and what they are fighting about : and it is he who says that Lord Aberdeen ought to be impeached, and Lord Palmerston hanged, or vice versa. Lord Palmerston's being sold to Russia, the exact num- ber of roubles paid, by what house in the City, is the favorite theme with this kind of Snob. I once overheard him it was Captain Spitfire, R. N. (who had been refused a ship by the Whigs, by the way) indulging in the following conversation with Mr. Minns after din- ner: "Why wasn't the Princess Scragamoffsky at Lady THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 485 Palmerston's party, Minns ? Because she can't show and why can't she show ? Shall I tell you, Minns, why she can't show ? The Princess Scragamoffsky's back is flayed alive, Minns I tell you it's raw, sir ! On Tuesday last, at twelve o'clock, three drummers of the Preobajinski Kegirnent arrived at Ashburnham House, and at half- past twelve, in the yellow drawing-room at the Kussian Embassy, before the ambassadress and four ladies'-maids, the Greek Papa, and the Secretary of Embassy, Madame de Scragamoffsky received thirteen dozen. She was knouted, sir, knouted in the midst of England in Berkeley Square, for having said that the Grand Duchess Olga's hair was red. And now, sir, will you tell me Lord Palmerston ought to continue Minister ? " Minns : " Good Ged ! " Minns follows Spitfire about, and thinks him the greatest and wisest of human beings. CHAPTER XXXIX. CLUB SNOBS. HY does not some great author write "The Mysteries of the Club-houses ; or St. James's Street unveiled." It would be a fine subject for an imaginative writer. We must all, as boys, remember when we went to the fair, and had spent all our money the sort of awe and anxiety with which we loitered round the outside of the show, specula- ting upon the nature of the en- tertainment going on within. Man is a Drama of Wonder and Passion, and Mystery and Meanness, and Beauty and Truth- fulness, and Etcetera. Each Bo- som is a Booth in Vanity Fair. But let us stop this capital style ; I should die if I kept it up for a column (a pretty thing a column all capitals would be, by the way). In a Club, though there mayn't be a soul of your acquaintance in the room, you have always the chance of watching strangers, and speculating on what is going on within those tents and curtains of their souls, their coats and waistcoats. This is a never-failing sport. Indeed I am told there are some Clubs in the town where nobody speaks to anybody. They sit in the coffee-room quite silent, and watching each other. Yet how little you can tell from a man's outward de- meanor ! There's a man at our Club large, heavy, middle- aged gorgeously dressed rather bald with lacquered boots and a boa when he goes out ; quiet in demeanor, always ordering and consuming a recherche little dinner : whom I have mistaken for Sir John Pocklington any time 486 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 487 these five years, and respected as a man with five hundred pounds per diem ; and I find he is but a clerk in an office in the city, with not two hundred pounds income, and his name is Jubber. Sir John Pocklington was, on the con- trary, the dirty little snuffy man who cried out so about the bad quality of the beer, and grumbled at being over- charged three half-pence for a herring, seated at the next table to Jubber on the day some one pointed the Baronet out to me. Take a different sort of mystery. I see, for instance, old Fawney stealing round the rooms of the Club, with glassy, meaningless eyes, and an endless greasy simper he fawns on everybody he meets, and shakes hands with you, and blesses you, and betrays the most tender and astonishing interest in your welfare. You know him to be a quack and a rogue, and he knows you know it. But he wriggles on his way, and leaves a track of slimy flattery after him wherever he goes. Who can penetrate that man's mystery ? What earthly good can he get from you or me ? You don't know what is working under that leering tranquil mask. You have only the dim instinctive repulsion that warns you, you are in the presence of a knave beyond which fact all Fawney's soul is a secret to you. 488 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. I think I like to speculate on the young men best. Their play is opener. You know the cards in their hand, as it were. Take, for example, Messrs. Spavin and Cock- spur. A specimen or two of the above sort of young fellows may be found, I believe, at most Clubs. They know nobody. They bring a fine smell of cigars into the room with them, and they growl together in a corner, about sporting matters. They recollect the history of that short period in which they have been ornaments of the world by the names of winning-horses. As political men talk about " the reform year," " the year the Whigs went out," and so forth, these young sporting bucks speak of Tarnation's year, or Opodeldoc's year, or the year when Catawampus ran second for the Chester Cup. They play at billiards in the morning, they absorb pale ale for breakfast, and " top up " with glasses of strong waters. They read BelVs Life (and a very pleasant paper too, with a great deal of erudition in the answers to correspondents). They go down to Tatter- sail's, and swagger in the Park, with their hands plunged in the pockets of their paletots. What strikes me especially in the outward demeanor of sporting youth is their amazing gravity, their conciseness of speech, and care-worn and moody air. In the smoking- room at the " Kegent," when Joe Millerson will be setting the whole room in a roar with laughter, you hear young Messrs. Spavin and Cockspur grumbling together in a corner. "I'll take your five-and-twenty to one about Brother to Bluenose," whispers Spavin. " Can't do it at the price," Cockspur says, wagging his head ominously. The betting-book is always present in the minds of those unfortunate youngsters. I think I hate that work even more than the "Peerage." There is some good in the latter though, generally speaking, a vain record : though De Mogyns is not descended from the giant Hogyn Mogyn ; though half the other genealogies are equally false and foolish ; yet the mottoes are good reading some of them ; and the book itself a sort of gold-laced and liveried lackey to History, and in so far serviceable. But what good ever came out of, or went into, a betting-book ? If I could be Caliph Omar for a week, I would pitch every one of those despicable manuscripts into the flames ; from my Lord's, who is " in " with Jack Snaffle's stable, and is overreaching worse-informed rogues and swindling greenhorns, down to THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 489 Sam's, the butcher-boy's, who books eighteenpenny odds in the tap-room, and " stands to win five-and-twenty bob." In a turf transaction, either Spavin or Cockspur would try to get the better of his father, and, to gain a point in the odds, victimize his best friends. One day we shall hear of one or other levanting; an event at which, not being sporting men, we shall not break our hearts. See Mr. Spavin is settling his toilet previous to departure; giving a curl in the glass to his side-wisps of hair. Look at him! It is only at the hulks, or among turf-men, that you ever see a face so mean, so knowing, and &u gloomy. A much more humane being among the youthful Club bists is the Lady-killing Snob. I saw Wiggle just now in the dressing-room, talking to Waggle, his inseparable. Waggle. " 'Pon my honor, Wiggle, she did." Wiggle. " Well, Waggle, as you say I own I think she DID look at me rather kindly. We'll see to-night at the French play." And having arrayed their little persons, those two harm- less young bucks go up stairs to dinner. CHAPTER XL. CLUB SNOBS. OTH sorts of young men, men- tioned in my last under the flippant names of Wiggle and Waggle, may be found in toler- able plenty, I think, in Clubs. Wiggle and Waggle are both idle. They come of the middle classes. One of them very likely makes believe to be a barrister, and the other has smart apartments about Picca- dilly. They are a sort of second-chop dandies ; they cannot imitate that superb listlessness of demeanor, and that admirable vacuous folly which distinguishes the noble and high-born chiefs of the race ; but they lead lives almost as bad (were it but for the example), and are personally quite as useless. I am not going to arm a thunderbolt, and launch it at the heads of these little Pall Mall butterflies. They don't commit much public harm, or private extravagance. They don't spend a thousand pounds for diamond ear-rings for an Opera-dancer, as Lord Tarquin can: neither of them ever set up a public-house or broke the bank of a gambling-club, like the young Earl of Martingale. They have good points, kind feelings, and deal honorably in money-transactions only in their char- acters of men of second-rate pleasure about town, they and their like are so utterly mean, self-contented, and absurd, that they must not be omitted in a work treating on Snobs. Wiggle has been abroad, where he gives you to under- stand that his success among the German countesses and Italian princesses, whom he met at the tables-d'hote, was perfectly terrific. His rooms are hung round with pictures of actresses and ballet-dancers. He passes his mornings in a fine dressing-gown, burning pastilles, and reading 490 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 491 " Don Juan " and French novels (by the way, the life of the author of "Don Juan," as described by himself, was the model of the life of a Snob). He has twopenny-half- penny French prints of women with languishing eyes, dress in dominoes, guitars, gondolas, and so forth, and tells you stories about them. " It's a bad print," says he, " I know, but I've a reason for liking it. It reminds me of somebody somebody I knew in other climes. You have heard of the Principessa di Monte Pulciano ? I met her at Eimini. Dear, dear Francesca! That fair-haired, bright-eyed thing in the Bird of Paradise and the Turkish Simar with the love-bird on her finger, I'm sure must have been taken from from somebody perhaps whom you don't know but she's known at Munich, Waggle my boy, everybody knows the Countess Ottilia di Eulenschreckenstein. Gad, sir, what a beautiful creature she was when I danced with her on the birthday of Prince Attila of Bavaria, in '44. Prince Carlo- man was our vis--vis, and Prince Pepin danced the same contredanse. She has a Polyanthus in her bouquet. Wag- gle, / have it now." His countenance assumes an agonized and mysterious expression, and he buries his head in the sofa cushions, as if plunging into a whirlpool of passionate recollections. Last year he made a considerable sensation by having on his table a morocco miniature-case locked by a gold key, which he always wore round his neck, and on which was stamped a serpent emblem of eternity with the letter M in the circle. Sometimes he laid this upon his little morocco writing-table, as if it were on an altar generally he had flowers upon it ; in the middle of a conversation he would start up and kiss it. He would call out from his bedroom to his valet, " Hicks, bring me my casket ! " " I don't know who it is," Waggle would say. " Who does know that fellow's intrigues! Desborough Wiggle, sir, is the slave of passion. I suppose you have heard the story of the Italian princess locked up in the Convent of Saint Barbara, at Eimini? He hasn't told you? Then I'm not at liberty to speak. Or the countess, about whom he nearly had the duel with Prince Witikind of Bavaria ? Perhaps you haven't even heard about that beautiful girl at Pentonville, daughter of a most respectable Dissenting clergyman. She broke her heart when she found he was engaged (to a most lovely creature of high family, who 492 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. afterwards proved false to him), and she's now in Han- well." Waggle's belief in his friend amounts to frantic adora- ation. " What a genius he is, if he would but apply him- self !" he whispers to me. "He could be anything, sir, but for his passions. His poems are the most beautiful things you ever saw. He's written a continuation of ' Don Juan,' from his own adventures. Did you ever read his lines to Mary ? They're superior to Byron, sir superior to Byron." I was glad to hear this from so accomplished a critic as Waggle ; for the fact is, I had composed the verses myself for honest Wiggle one day, whom I found at his chambers plunged in thought over a very dirty old-fashioned album, in which he had not as yet written a single word. "I can't," says he. " Sometimes I can write whole cantos, and to-day not a line. Oh, Snob ! such an opportu- nity ! Such a divine creature ! She's asked me to write verses for her album, and I can't." " Is she rich ? " said I. " I thought you would never marry any but an heiress." " Oh, Snob ! she's the most accomplished, highly-con- nected creature ! and I can't get out a line." " How will you have it ? " says I. " Hot, with sugar ? " " Don't, don't ! You trample on the most sacred feel- ings, Snob. I want something wild and tender, like Byron. I want to tell her that amongst the festive halls, and that sort of thing you know I only think about her, you know that I scorn the world, and am weary of it, you know, and something about a gazelle, and a bulbul, you know." " And a yataghan to finish off with," the present writer observed, and we began : "TO MARY. " I seem, in the midst of the crowd, The lightest of all ; My laughter rings cheery and loud, In banquet and ball. My lip hath its smiles and its sneers, For all men to see ; But my soul, and my truth, and my tears, Are for thee, are for thee ! " "Do you call that neat, Wiggle? " says I. "I declare it almost makes me cry myself." THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 493 "Now suppose," says Wiggle, "we say that all the world is at my feet make her jealous you know, and that sort of thing and that that I'm going to travel, you know ? That perhaps may work upon her feelings." So We (as this wretched prig said) began again : " Around me they flutter and fawn The young and the old, The fairest are ready to pawn Their hearts for my gold. They sue me I laugh as I spurn The slaves at my knee, But in faith and in fondness I turn Unto thee, unto thee !" "Now for the travelling, Wiggle my boy!" And I began, in a voice choked with emotion " Away ! for my heart knows no rest Since you taught it to feel ; The secret must die in my breast I burn to reveal ; The passion I may not ..." "I say, Snob!" Wiggle here interrupted the excited 494 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. bard (just as I was about to break out into four lines so pathetic that they would drive you into hysterics). " I say ahem couldn't you say that I was a military man, and that there was some danger of my life ? " " You a military man ? danger of your life ? What the deuce do you mean ? " " Why," said Wiggle, blushing a good deal, " I told her I was going out on the Ecuador expedition." " You abominable young impostor," I exclaimed. "Finish the poem for yourself ! " And so he did, and entirely out of all metre, and bragged about the work at the Club as his own performance. Poor Waggle fully believed in his friend's genius, until one day last week he came with a grin on his countenance to the Club, and said, "Oh, Snob, I've made such a dis- covery ! Going down to the skating to-day, whom should I see but Wiggle walking with that splendid woman that lady of illustrious family and immense fortune, Mary, you know, whom he wrote the beautiful verses about. She's five-and-forty. She's red hair. She's a nose like a pump- handle. Her father made his fortune by keeping a ham- and-beef shop, and Wiggle's going to marry her next week." " So much the better, Waggle, my young friend," I ex- claimed. "Better for the sake of womankind that this dangerous dog should leave off lady-killing this Blue- beard give up practice. Or, better rather for his own sake. For as there is not a word of truth in any of these prodig- ious love stories which you used to swallow, nobody has been hurt except Waggle himself, whose affections will now centre in the ham-and-beef shop. There are people, Mr. Waggle, who do these things in earnest, and hold a good rank in the world too. But these are not subjects for ridicule, and though certainly Snobs, are scoundrels like- wise. Their cases go up to a higher Court." CHAPTER XLI. CLUB SNOBS. BACCHUS is the divinity to whom Waggle devotes his especial worship. " Give me wine, my boy," says he to his friend Wiggle, who is prating about lovely woman : and holds up his glass full of the rosy fluid, and winks at it portentously, and sips it, and smacks his lips after it, and meditates on it, as if he were the greatest of connoisseurs. I have remarked this excessive wine-amateurship espec- ially in youth. Snoblings from college, Fledglings from the army, Goslings from the public schools, who ornament our Clubs, are frequently to be heard in great force upon wine questions. " This bottle's corked," says Snobling ; and Mr. Sly, the butler, taking it away, returns presently with the same wine in another jug, which the young ama- teur pronounces excellent. " Hang champagne ! " says Fledgling, "it's only fit for gals and children. Give me pale sherry at dinner, and my twenty-three claret after- wards." " What's port now ? " says Gosling ; " disgusting thick sweet stuff where's the old dry wine one used to get ? " Until the last twelvemonth, Fledgling drank small- beer at Dr. Swishtail's ; and Gosling used to get his dry old port at a gin-shop in Westminster till he quitted that seminary in 1844. Anybody who has looked at the caricatures of thirty years ago, must remember how frequently bottle-noses, pimpled-faces, and other Bardolphian features are intro- duced by the designer. They are much more rare now (in nature, and in pictures, therefore,) than in those good old times ; but there are still to be found amongst the youth of our Clubs lads who glory in drinking-bouts, and whose faces quite sickly and yellow, for the most part are decorated with those marks which Rowland's Kalydor is said to ef- face. " I was so cut last night old boy ! " Hopkins says to Tomkins (with amiable confidence). " I tell you what we did. We breakfasted with Jack Herring at twelve, and 495 496 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. kept up with brandy and soda-water and weeds till four ; then we toddled into the Park for an hour ; then we dined and drank mulled port till half-price ; then we looked in for an hour at the Haymarket ; then we came back to the Club, and had grills and whiskey -punch till all was blue. Hullo, waiter ! Get me a glass of cherry -brandy." Club waiters, the civilest, the kindest, the patientest of men, die under the infliction of these cruel young topers. But if the reader wishes to see a perfect picture on the stage of this class of young fellows, I would recommend him to witness the ingenious comedy of London Assurance the amiable heroes of which are represented, not only as drunkards and five-o'clock-in-the-morning men, but as showing a hundred other delightful traits of swindling, lying, and general de- bauchery, quite edifying to witness. How different is the conduct of these outrageous youths to the decent behavior of my friend, Mr. Papworthy ; who says to Poppins, the butler at the club : Papworthy. " Poppins, I'm thinking of dining early ; is there any cold game in the house ? " THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 497 Poppins. " There's a game pie, sir ; there's cold grouse, sir ; there's cold pheasant, sir ; there's cold peacock, sir ; cold swan, sir ; cold ostrich, sir," &c., &c. (as the case may be). Papworthy. "Hem! What's your best claret now, Poppins ? in pints I mean." Poppins. " There's Cooper and Magnum's Lafite, sir ; there's Lath and Sawdust's St. Julien, sir : Bung's Leoville is considered remarkably fine j and I think you'd like Jug- ger's Chateau-Margaux." Papworthy. " Hum ! hah ! well give me a crust of bread and a glass of beer. I'll only lunch, Poppins." Captain Shindy is another sort of Club bore. He has been known to throw all the Club in an uproar about the quality of his mutton-chop. " Look at it, sir ? Is it cooked, sir ? Smell it, sir ! Is it meat fit for a gentleman ? " he roars out to the steward, who stands trembling before him, and who in vain tells him that the Bishop of Bullocksmithy has just had three from the same loin. All the waiters in the Club are huddled around the captain's mutton-chop. He roars out the most horrible curses at John for not bringing the pickles ; he ut- ters the most dreadful oaths because Thomas has not ar- rived with the Harvey sauce ; Peter comes tumbling with the water-jug over Jeames, who is bringing " the glittering 32 498 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. canisters -with bread." Whenever Shindy enters the room (such is the force of character), every table is deserted, every gentleman must dine as he best may, and all those big footmen are in terror. He makes his account of it. He scolds, and is better waited upon in consequence. At the Club he has ten ser- vants scudding about to do his bidding. Poor Mrs. Shindy and the children are, meanwhile, in dingy lodgings somewhere, waited upon by a charity-girl in pattens. CHAPTER XLII. CLUB SXOBS. VERY well-bred English female will sympathize with the subject of the harrowing tale, the history of Sackville Maine, I am now about to recount. The pleasures of Clubs have been spoken of: let us now glance for a moment at the dangers of those institutions, and for this purpose I must introduce you to my young acquaintance, Sackville Maine. It was at a ball at the house of my respected friend, Mrs. Perkins, that I was introduced to this gen- tleman and his charming lady. See- ing a young creature before me in a white dress, with white satin shoes ; with a pink ribbon, about a yard in breadth, flaming out as she twirled in a polka in the arms of Mon- sieur de Springbock, the German diplomatist ; with a green wreath on her head, and the blackest hair this individual ever set eyes on seeing, I say, before me a charming young woman whisking beautifully in a beautiful dance, and presenting, as she wound round and round the room, now a full face, then a three-quarter face, then a profile a face, in fine, which in every way you saw it, looked pret- ty, and rosy, and happy, I felt (as I trust) a not unbecom- ing curiosity regarding the owner of this pleasant counte- nance, and asked Wagley (who was standing by, in conver- sation with an acquaintance) who was the lady in ques- tion ? " Which. ? " says Wagley. " That one with the coal-black eyes," I replied. " Hush ! " says he ; and the gentleman with whom he was talking moved off, with rather a discomfited air. 499 500 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. When lie was gone Wagley burst out laughing. " Coal- black eyes ! " said he ; " you've just hit it. That's Mrs. Sackville Maine, and that was her husband who just went away. He's a coal-merchant, Snob, iny boy, and I have no doubt Mr. Perkins's Wallsends are supplied from his wharf. He is in a flaming furnace when he hears coals mentioned. He and his wife and his mother are very proud of Mrs. Sackville's family ; she was a Miss Chuff, daughter of Cap- tain Chuff, R. N. That is the widow ; that stout woman in crimson tabbinet, battling about the odd trick with old Mr. Dumps, at the card-table." And so, in fact, it was. Sackville Maine (whose name is a hundred times more elegant, surely, than that of Chuff) was blest with a pretty wife, and a genteel mother-in-law, both of whom some people may envy him. Soon after his marriage the old lady was good enough to come and pay him a visit just for a fortnight at his pretty little cottage, Kennington Oval; and, such is her affection for the place, has never quitted it these four years. She has also brought her son, Nelson Collingwood Chuff, to live with her ; but he is not so much at home as his mamma, going as a day-boy to Merchant Taylors' School, where he is getting a sound classical education. If these beings, so closely allied to his wife, and so justly dear to her, may be considered as drawbacks to Maine's happiness, what man is there that has not some things in life to complain of ? And when I first knew Mr. Maine, no man seemed more comfortable than he. His cottage was a picture of elegance and comfort ; his table and cellar were excellently and neatly supplied. There was every enjoy- ment, but no ostentation. The omnibus took him to busi- ness of a morning ; the boat brought him back to the hap- piest of homes, where he would while away the long even- ings by reading out the fashionable novels to the ladies as they worked ; or accompany his wife on the flute (which he played elegantly) ; or in any one of the hundred pleas- ing and innocent amusements of the domestic circle. Mrs. Chuff covered the drawing-rooms with prodigious tapestries, the work of her hands. Mrs. Sackville had a particular ge- nius for making covers of tape or network for these tapes- tried cushions. She could make home-made wines. She could make preserves and pickles. She had an album, into which, during the time of his courtship, Sackville Maine had written choice scraps of Byron's and Moore's poetry, THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 501 analogous to his own situation, and in a fine mercantile hand. She had a large manuscript receipt-book every quality, in a word, which indicated a virtuous and well-bred English female mind. " And as for Nelson Collingwood," Sackville would say, laughing, " we couldn't do without him in the house. If he didn't spoil the tapestry we should be over-cushioned in a few months ; and whom could we get but him to drink Laura's home-made wine ? " The truth is, the gents who came from the City to dine at the " Oval " could not be in- duced to drink it in which fastidiousness, I myself, when I grew to be intimate with the family, confess that I shared. " And yet, sir, that green ginger has been drunk by some of England's proudest heroes," Mrs. Chuff would exclaim. "Admiral Lord Exmouth tasted and praised it, sir, on board Captain Chuff's ship, the 'Nebuchadnezzar/ 74, at Algiers ; and he had three dozen with him in the ' Pitch- fork ' frigate, a part of which was served out to the men before he went into his immortal action with the ' Furi- bonde,' Captain Choufleur, in the Gulf of Panama." All this, though the old dowager told us the story every day when the wine was produced, never served to get rid of any quantity of it and the green ginger, though it had fired British tars for combat and victory, was not to the taste of us peaceful and degenerate gents of modern times. I see Sackville now, as on the occasion when, presented by Wagley, I paid my first visit to him. It was in July a Sunday afternoon Sackville Maine was coming from church, with his wife on one arm, and his mother-in-law (in red tabbinet, as usual) on the other. A half-grown, or hobbledehoyish footman, so to speak, walked after them, carrying their shining golden prayer-books the ladies had splendid parasols with tags and fringes. Mrs. Chuff's great gold watch, fastened to her stomach, gleamed there like a ball of fire. Nelson Collingwood was in the distance, shying stones at an old horse on Kennington Common. 'Twas on that verdant spot we met nor can I ever forget the majestic courtesy of Mrs. Chuff, as she remembered having had the pleasure of seeing me at Mrs. Perkins's nor the glance of scorn which she threw at an unfortunate gentleman who was preaching an exceedingly desultory discourse to a sceptical audience of omnibus-cads and 502 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. nurse-maids, on a tub, as we passed by. " I cannot help it, sir," says she ; " I am the widow of an officer of Bri- tain's Navy : I was taught to honor my Church and my King : and I cannot bear a Radical, or a Dissenter." With these fine principles I found Sackville Maine im- pressed. " Wagley," said he, to my introducer, " if no bet- ter engagement, why shouldn't self and friend dine at the ' Oval ' ? Mr. Snob, sir, the mutton's coming off the spit at this very minute. Laura and Mrs. Chuff" (he said Laurar and Mrs. Chuff ; but I hate people who make re- marks on these peculiarities of pronunciation) " will be most happy to see you ; and I can promise you a hearty welcome and as good a glass of port-wine as any in Eng- land." " This is better than dining at the ' Sarcophagus,' " thinks I to myself, at which Club Wagley and I had in- tended to take our meal ; and so we accepted the kindly invitation, whence arose afterwards a considerable inti- macy. Everything about this family and house was so good- natured, comfortable and well-conditioned, that a cynic would have ceased to growl there. Mrs. Laura was all graciousness and smiles, and looked to as great advantage in her pretty morning-gown as in her dress-robe at Mrs. Perkins's. Mrs. Chuff fired off her stories about the "Nebuchadnezzar," 74, the action between the "Pitch- fork " and the " Furibonde " the heroic resistance of Cap- tain Choufleur, and the quantity of snuff he took, &c., &c. ; which, as they were heard for the first time, were pleasanter than I have subsequently found them. Sackville Maine was the best of hosts. He agreed in everything everybody said, altering his opinions without the slightest reservation upon the slightest possible contradiction. He was not one of those beings who would emulate a Schonbein or Friar Bacon, or act the part of an incendiary towards the Thames, his neighbor but a good, kind, simple, honest, easy fellow in love with his wife well disposed to all the world content with himself, content even with his mother-in-law. Nelson Collingwood, I remember, in the course of the evening, when whiskey-and-water was for some reason produced, grew a little tipsy. This did not in the least move Sackville's equanimity. " Take him up stairs, Joseph," said he to the hobbledehoy, "and Joseph don't tell his mamma." THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 503 What could make a man so happily disposed, unhappy ? What could cause discomfort, bickering, and estrangement in a family so friendly and united ? Ladies, it was not my fault it was Mrs. Chuff's doing but the rest of the tale you shall have on a future day. CHAPTEK XLIII. CLUB SNOBS. HE misfortune which befell the simple and good-natured young Sackville arose entirely from that abominable " Sar- cophagus Club " ; and that he ever entered it was partly the fault of the present writer. For, seeing Mrs. Chuff, his mother-in-law, had a taste for the genteel (indeed, her talk was all about Lord Col ling- wood, Lord Gambier, Sir Jaha- leel Brenton, and the Gosport and Plymouth balls) Wagley and I, according to our wont, trumped her conversation, and talked about Lords, Dukes, Marquises, and Baronets, as if those dignitaries were our fa- miliar friends. " Lord Sextonbury," says I, " seems to have recovered her ladyship's death. He and the Duke were very jolly over their wine at the ' Sarcophagus ' last night ; weren't they, Wagley ? " " Good fellow, the Duke," Wagley replied. " Pray ma'am " (to Mrs. Chuff), " you who know the world and etiquette, will you tell me what a man ought to do in my case ? Last June, his Grace, his son Lord Castle Rampant, Tom Smith, and myself were dining at the Club, when I offered the odds against Daddylonglegs for the Derby forty to one, in sovereigns only. His Grace took the bet, and of course I won. He has never paid me. Now, can I ask such a great man for a sovereign ? One more lump of sugar, if you please, my dear madam." 504 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 505 It was lucky Wagley gave her this opportunity to elude the question, for it prostrated the whole worthy family among whom we were. They telegraphed each other with wondering eyes. Mrs. Chuff's stories about the naval no- bility grew quite faint : and kind little Mrs. Sackville became uneasy, and went up stairs to look at the children not at that young monster, Nelson Collingwood, who was sleeping off the whiskey-and-water but at a couple of little ones who had made their appearance at dessert, and of whom she and Sackville were the happy parents. The end of this and subsequent meetings with Mr. Maine was, that we proposed and got him elected as a member of the " Sarcophagus Club." It was not done without a deal of opposition the secret having been whispered that the candidate was a coal-mer- chant. You may be sure some of the proud people and most of the parvenus of the Club were ready to blackball him. We combated this opposition successfully, however. We pointed out to the parvenus that the Lambtons and the Stuarts sold coals : we mollified the proud by accounts of his good birth, good-nature, and good behavior; and Wagley went about on the day of election, describing with great eloquence, the action between the " Pitchfork " and the " Furibonde," and the valor of Captain Maine, our friend's father. There was a slight mistake in the narra- tive ; but we carried our man, with only a trifling sprinkling of black beans in the boxes : Byles's, of course, who black- balls everybody ; and Bung's who looks down upon a coal- merchant, having himself lately retired from the wine-trade. Some fortnight afterwards I saw Sackville Maine under the following circumstances : He was showing the Club to his family. He had brought them thither in the light-blue fly, waiting at the Club door ; with Mrs. Chuff's hobbledehoy footboy on the box, by the side of the flyman, in a sham livery. Nelson Collingwood ; pretty Mrs. Sackville ; Mrs. Captain Chuff (Mrs. Commo- dore Chuff we call her) were all there; the latter, of course, in the vermilion tabbinet, which, splendid as it is, is nothing in comparison to the splendor of the " Sarco- phagus." The delighted Sackville Maine was pointing out the beauties of the place to them. It seemed as beautiful as Paradise to that little party. The " Sarcophagus " displays every known variety of architecture and decoration. The great library is Eliza- 506 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. bethan ; the small library is pointed Gothic ; the small din- ing-room is severe Doric : the strangers' room has an Egyptian look : the drawing-rooms are Louis Quatorze (so called because the hideous ornaments displayed were used in the time of Louis Quinze) ; the cortile, or hall, is Morisco-Italian. It is all over marble, maplewood, looking- glasses, arabesques, ormolu, and scagliola. Scrolls, ciphers, dragons, Cupids, polyanthuses and other flowers writhe up the walls in every kind of cornucopiosity. Fancy every gentleman in Jullien's band playing with all his might, and each performing a different tune ; the ornaments at our Club, the " Sarcophagus," so bewilder and affect me. Dazzled with emotions which I cannot describe, and which she dared not reveal, Mrs. Chuff, followed by her children and son-in-law, walked wondering amongst these blunder- ing splendors. In the great library (225 feet long by 150) the only man Mrs. Chuff saw was Tiggs. He was lying on a crimson- velvet sofa, reading a French novel of Paul de Kock. It was a very little book. He is a very little man. In that enormous hall he looked like a mere speck. As the ladies passed breathless and trembling in the vastness of the magnificent solitude, he threw a knowing, killing glance at the fair strangers, as much as to say, "Ain't I a fine fel- low ? " They thought so, I am sure. " Who is that ? " hisses out Mrs. Chuff, when we were about fifty yards off him at the other end of the room. " Tiggs ! " says I, in a similar whisper. "Pretty comfortable this, isn't it, my dear?" says Maine in a free-and-easy way to Mrs. Sackville ; " all the magazines, you see writing materials new works choice library, containing every work of importance what have we here ? ' Dugdale's Monasticon/ a most valuable and, I believe, entertaining book." And proposing to take down one of the books for Mrs. Maine's inspection, he selected Volume VII., to which he was attracted by the singular fact that a brass door-handle grew out of the back. Instead of pulling out a book, however, he pulled open a cupboard, only inhabited by a lazy housemaid's broom and duster, at which he looked exceedingly discomfited ; while Nelson Collingwood, losing all respect, burst into a roar of laughter. " That's the rummest book I ever saw," says Nelson. " I wish we'd no others at Merchant Taylors'." THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 507 " Hush, Nelson ! " cries Mrs. Chuff, and we went into the other magnificent apartments. How they did admire the drawing-room hangings (pink and silver brocade, most excellent wear for London), and calculated the price per yard; and revelled on the luxu- rious sofas; and gazed on the immeasurable looking- glasses. " Pretty well to shave by, eh ? " says Maine to his moth- er-in-law. (He was getting more abominably conceited every minute.) " Get away, Sackville," says she, delighted, and threw a glance over her shoulder, and spread out the wings of the red tabbinet, and took a good look at herself ; so did Mrs. Sackville just one, and I thought the glass reflected a very smiling, pretty creature. But what's a woman at a looking-glass ? Bless the little dears, it's their place. They fly to it naturally. It pleases them, and they adorn it. What I like to see, and watch with increasing joy and adoration, is the Club men at the great looking-glasses. Old Gills pushing up his collars and grinning at his own mottled face. Hulker looking sol- emnly at his great person, and tightening his coat to give himself a waist. Fred Minchin simpering by as he is going out to dine, and casting upon the reflection of his white neck-cloth a pleased moony smile. What a deal of vanity that Club mirror has reflected, to be sure ! Well, the ladies went through the whole establishment with perfect pleasure. They beheld the coffee-rooms, and the little tables laid for dinner, and the gentlemen who were taking their lunch, and old Jawkins thundering away as usual ; they saw the reading-rooms, and the rush for the evening papers ; they saw the kitchens those wonders of art where the Chef was presiding over twenty pretty kitchen-maids, and ten thousand shining saucepans: and they got into the light-blue fly perfectly bewildered with pleasure. Sackville did not enter it, though little Laura took the back seat on purpose, and left him the front place along- side of Mrs. Chuff's red tabbinet. "We have your favorite dinner," says she, in a timid voice ; " won't you come, Sackville ? " "I shall take a chop here to-day, my dear," Sackville replied. " Home, James." And he went up the steps of the " Sarcophagus," and the pretty face looked very sad out of the carriage, as the blue fly drove away. CHAPTER XLIV. CI-UB SXOBS. HY why did I and Wagley ever do so cruel an action as to introduce young Sack- ville Maine into that odious "Sarcopha- gus " ! Let our im- prudence and his ex- ample be a warning to other gents ; let his fate and that of his poor wife be re- membered by every British female. The consequences of his entering the Club were as follows : One of the first vices the unhappy wretch acquired in this abode of fri- volity was that of smoking. Some of the dandies of the Club, such as the Marquis of Macabaw, Lord Doodeen, and fellows of that high order, are in the habit of indulging in this propensity upstairs in the billiard-rooms of the "Sar- cophagus " and, partly to make their acquaintance, partly from a natural aptitude for crime, Sackville Maine followed them, and became an adept in the odious custom. Where it is introduced into a family I need not say how sad the consequences are, both to the furniture and the morals. Sackville smoked in his dining-room at home, and caused an agony to his wife and mother-in-law which I do not venture to describe. He then became a professed billiard-player, wasting hours upon hours at that amusement; betting freely, playing tolerably, losing awfully to Captain Spot and Col. 508 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 509 Cannon. He played matches of a hundred games with these gentlemen, and would not only continue until four or five o'clock in the morning at this work, but would be found at the Club of a forenoon, indulging himself to the detriment of his business, the ruin of his health, and the neglect of his wife. From billiards to whist is but a step and when a man gets to whist and five pounds on the rubber, my opinion is that it is all up with him. How was the coal business to go on, and the connection of the firm to be kept up, and the senior partner always at the card-table. Consorting now with genteel persons and Pall Mall bucks, Sackville became ashamed of his snug little resi- dence in Kennington Oval, and transported his family to Pimlico, where, though Mrs. Chuff, his mother-in-law, was at first happy, as the quarter was elegant and near her Sovereign, poor little Laura and the children found a woful difference. Where were her friends who came in with their work of a morning? At Kennington and in the vicinity of Clapham. Where were her children's little playmates ? On Kennington Common. The great thun- dering carriages that roared up and down the drab-colored streets of the new quarter, contained no friends for the sociable little Laura. The children that paced the squares, attended by a bonne or a prim governess, were not like those happy ones that flew kites, or played hop-scotch on the well-beloved old Common. And ah ! what a difference at Church too ! between St. Benedict's of Pimlico, with open seats, service in sing-song tapers albs surplices garlands, and processions, and the honest old ways of Kennington ! The footmen, too, attending St. Benedict's were so splendid and enormous, that James, Mrs. Chuff's boy, trembled amongst them, and said he would give warning rather than carry the books to that church any more. The furnishing of the house was not done without ex- pense. And, ye gods ! what a difference there was between Sackville's dreary French banquets in Pimlico, and the jolly dinners at the Oval! No more legs-of-mutton, no more of "the best port-wine in England"; but entrees on plate, and dismal two-penny champagne, and waiters in gloves, and the Club bucks for company among whom Mrs. Chuff was uneasy and Mrs. Sackville quite silent. 510 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. Not that he dined at home often. The wretch had become a perfect epicure, and dined commonly at the Club with the gormandizing clique there; with old Dr. Maw, Colonel Cramley (who is as lean as a greyhound, and has jaws like a jack), and the rest of them. Here you might see the wretch tippling Sillery champagne and gorging himself with French viands ; and I often looked with sor- row from my table (on which cold meat, the Club small-beer, and a half-pint of Marsala form the modest banquet), and sighed to think it was my work. And there were other beings present to my repentant thoughts. Where's his wife, thought I? Where's poor, good, kind little Laura? At this very moment it's about the nursery bedtime, and while yonder good-for- nothing is swilling his wine the little ones are at Laura's knees lisping their prayers ; and she is teaching them to say " Pray God bless Papa." When she has put them to bed, her day's occupation is gone; and she is utterly lonely all night, and sad, and waiting for him. THE BOOK OF SNOBS. .511 Oh, for shame ! Oh, for shame ! Go home, thou idle tippler. How Sackville lost his health ; how he lost his business ; how he got into scrapes ; how he got into debt ; how he be- came a railroad director ; how the Pimlico house was shut up ; how he went to Boulogne, all this I could tell, only I am too much ashamed of my part of the transaction. They returned to England, because, to the surprise of everybody, Mrs. Chuff came down with a great sum of money (which nobody knew she had saved), and paid his liabilities. He is in England ; but at Kennington. His name is taken off the books of the " Sarcophagus " long ago. When we meet, he crosses over to the other side of the street ; and I don't call, as I should be sorry to see a look of reproach or sadness in Laura's sweet face. Not, however, all evil, as I am proud to think, has been the influence of the Snob of England upon Clubs in gen- eral : Captain Shindy is afraid to bully the waiters any more, and eats his mutton-chop without moving Acheron. Gobemouche does not take more than two papers at a time for his private reading. Tiggs does not ring the bell and 512 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. cause the library-waiter to walk about a quarter of a mile in order to give him Vol. II., which lies on the next table. Growler has ceased to walk from table to table in the coffee- room and inspect what people are having for dinner. Trotty Veck takes his own umbrella from the hall the cotton one ; and Sidney Scraper's paletot lined with silk has been brought back by Jobbins, who entirely mistook it for his own. Waggle has discontinued telling stories about the ladies he has killed. Snooks does not any more think it gentlemanlike to black-ball attorneys. Snuffler no longer publicly spreads out his great red cotton pocket-handkerchief before the fire, for the admiration of two hundred gentle- men ; and if one Club Snob has been brought back to the paths of rectitude, and if one poor John has been spared a journey or a scolding say, friends and brethren, if these sketches of Club Snobs have been in vain ? CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS ON SNOBS. OW it is that we have come to No. 45 of this present series of papers, ray dear friends and broth- er Snobs, I hardly know but for a whole mortal year have we been togeth- er, prattling, and abusing the human race ; and were we to live for a hundred years more, I believe there is plenty of subject for conversation in the enor- mous theme of Snobs. The national mind is awakened to the subject. Letters pour in every day, conveying marks of sym- pathy; directing the at- tention of the Snob of England to races of Snobs yet undescribed. " Where are your Theatrical Snobs ; your Commercial Snobs ; your Med- ical and Chirurgical Snobs ; your Official Snobs ; your Legal Snobs ; your Artistical Snobs ; your Musical Snobs ; your Sporting Snobs ? " write my esteemed correspondents. "Surely you are not going to miss the Cambridge Chan- cellor election, and omit showing up your Don Snobs, who are coming, cap in hand, to a young Prince of six-and- twenty, and to implore him to be the chief of their re- nowned University ? " writes a friend who seals with the signet of the Cam and Isis Club. " Pray, pray," cries another, "now the Operas are opening, give us a lecture about Omnibus Snobs." Indeed, I should like to write a chapter about the Snobbish Dons very much, and another about the Snobbish Dandies. Of my dear Theatrical Snobs 33 513 514 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. I think with a pang ; and I can hardly break away from some Snobbish artists, with whom I have long, long intended to have a palaver. But what's the use of delaying ? When these were done there would be fresh Snobs to portray. The labor is end- less. No single man could complete it. Here are but fifty- two bricks and a pyramid to build. It is best to stop. As Jones always quits the room as soon as he has said his good thing, as Cincinnatus and General Washington both retired into private life in the "height of their popularity, as Prince Albert, when he laid the first stone of the Ex- change, left the brick-layers to complete that edifice and went home to his royal dinner, as the poet Bunn comes forward at the end of the season, and with feelings too tumultuous to describe blesses his kyind friends over the footlights: so, friends, in the flush of conquest and the splendor of victory, amid the shouts and the plaudits of a people triumphant yet modest the Snob of England bids ye farewell. But only for a season. Not forever. No, no. There is one celebrated author whom I admire very much who has been taking leave of the public any time these ten years in his prefaces, and always conies back again when everybody is glad to see him. How can he have the heart to be saying good-bye so often ? I believe that Bunn is af- fected when he blesses the people. Parting is always pain- ful. Even the familiar bore is dear to you. I should be sorry to shake hands even with Jawkins for the last time. I think a well-constituted convict, on coming home from transportation, ought to be rather sad when he takes leave of Van Diemen's Land. When the curtain goes down on the last night of a pantomime, poor old clown must be very dismal, depend on it. Ha ! with what joy he rushes for- ward on the evening of the 26th of December next, and says " How are you ? Here we are ! " But I am growing too sentimental : to return to the theme. THE NATIONAL MIND IS AWAKENED TO THE SUBJECT OP SNOBS. The word Snob has taken a place in our honest English vocabulary. We can't define it, perhaps. We can't say what it is, any more than we can define wit, or humor, or humbug ; but we know what it is. Some weeks since, happening to have the felicity to sit next to a young lady at a hospitable table, where poor old Jawkins was THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 515 holding forth in a very absurd pompous manner, I wrote upon the spotless damask " S B," and called my neigh- bor's attention to the little remark. That young lady smiled. She knew it at once. Her mind straightway filled up the two letters concealed by apos- trophic reserve, and I read in her assenting eyes that she knew Jawkins was a Snob. You seldom get them to make use of the word as yet, it is true ; but it is inconceivable how pretty an expression their little smiling mouths assume when they speak it out. If any young lady doubts, just let her go up to her own room, look at herself steadily in the glass, and say "Snob." If she tries this simple experi- ment, my life for it, she will smile, and own that the word becomes her mouth amazingly. A pretty little round word, all composed of soft letters, with a hiss at the beginning, just to make it piquant, as it were. Jawkins, meanwhile, went on blundering, and bragging, and boring, quite unconsciously. And so he will, no doubt, go on roaring and braying to the end of time, or at least so long as people will hear him. You cannot alter the nature of men and Snobs by any force of satire ; as, by laying ever so many stripes on a donkey's back, you can't turn him into a zebra. But we can warn the neighborhood that the person whom they and Jawkins admire is an impostor. We can apply the Snob test to him, and try whether he is conceited and a quack, whether pompous and lacking humility whether uncharitable and proud of his narrow soul. How does he treat a great man how regard a small one? How does he comport himself in the presence of His Grace the Duke ; and how in that of Smith, the tradesman ? And it seems to me that all English society is cursed by this mammoniacal superstition ; and that we are sneaking and bowing and cringing on the one hand, or bullying and scorning on the other, from the lowest to the highest. My wife speaks with great circumspection "proper pride," she calls it to our neighbor the tradesman's lady: and she, I mean Mrs. Snob Eliza would give one of her eyes to go to Court, as her cousin, the Captain's wife, did. She, again, is a good soul, but it costs her agonies to be obliged to confess that we live in Upper Thompson Street, Somer's Town. And though I believe in her heart Mrs. Whisker- ington is fonder of us than of her cousins, the Smigsmags, you should hear how she goes on prattling about Lady 616 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. Smigsmag, and "I said to Sir John, my dear John," and about the Smigsmags' house and parties in Hyde Park Terrace. Lady Smigsmag, when she meets Eliza, who is a sort of a kind of a species of a connection of the family, pokes out one finger, which my wife is at liberty to embrace in the most cordial manner she can devise. But oh, you should see her ladyship's behavior on her first-chop dinner- party days, when Lord and Lady Longears come ! I can bear it no longer this diabolical invention of gen- tility which kills natural kindliness and honest friendship. Proper pride indeed! Eank and precedence, forsooth! The table of ranks and degrees is a lie, and should be flung into the fire. Organize rank and precedence ! that was well for the masters of ceremonies of former ages. Come for- ward, some great marshal, and organize Equality in society, and your rod shall swallow up all the juggling old court goldsticks. If this is not gospel-truth if the world does not tend to this if hereditary-great-man worship is not a humbug and an idolatry let us have the Stuarts back again, and crop the Free Press's ears in the pillory. If ever our cousins, the Smigsmags, asked me to meet Lord Longears, I would like to take an opportunity after dinner and say, in the most good-natured way in the world : Sir, Fortune makes you a present of a number of thou- sand pounds every year. The ineffable wisdom of our an- cestors has placed you as a chief and hereditary legislator over me. Our admirable Constitution (the pride of Britons and envy of surrounding nations) obliges me to receive you as my senator, superior, and guardian. Your eldest son, Fitz-Heehaw, is sure of a place in Parliament ; your young- er sons, the De Brays, will kindly condescend to be post- captains and lieutenant-colonels, and to represent us in for- eign courts or to take a good living when it falls convenient. These prizes our admirable Constitution (the pride and envy of, &c.) pronounces to be your due : without count of your dulness, your vices, your selfishness ; or your entire inca- pacity and folly. Dull as you may be (and we have as good a right to assume that my lord is an ass, as the other prop- osition, that he is an enlightened patriot) ; dull, I say, as you may be, no one will accuse you of such monstrous folly, as to suppose that you are indifferent to the good luck which you possess, or have any inclination to part with it. THE BOOK OF SNOBS. 517 No and patriots as we are, under happier circumstances, Smith and I, I have no doubt, were we dukes ourselves, would stand by our order. We would submit good-naturedly to sit in a high place. We would acquiesce in that admirable Constitution (pride and envy of, &c.) which made us chiefs and the world our inferiors ; we would not cavil particularly at that notion of hereditary superiority which brought so many simple people cringing to our knees. Maybe we would rally round the Corn-Laws ; we would make a stand against the Reform Bill; we would die rather than repeal the Acts against Catholics and Dissenters ; we would, by our noble system of class-legislation, bring Ireland to its present admirable condition. But Smith and I are not earls as yet. We don't believe that it is for the interest of Smith's army that young De Bray should be a Colonel at five-and-twenty, of Smith's diplomatic relations that Lord Longears should go Am- bassador to Constantinople, of our politics, that Longears should put his hereditary foot into them. This bowing and cringing Smith believes to be the act of Snobs ; and he will do all in his might and main to be a Snob and to submit to Snobs no longer. To Longears he says : " We can't help seeing, Longears, that we are as good as you. We can spell even better ; we can think quite as rightly ; we will not have you for our master, or black your shoes any more. Your footmen do it, but they are paid ; and the fellow who comes to get a list of the company when you give a banquet or a dancing breakfast at Longueoreille House, gets money from the newspapers for performing that service. But for us, thank you for nothing, Longears my boy, and we don't wish to pay you any more than we owe. We will take off our hats to Wellington because he is Wellington ; but to you who are you ? " I am sick of Court Circulars. I loathe haut-ton intelli- gence. I believe such words as Fashionable, Exclusive, Aristocratic, and the like, to be wicked, unchristian epi- thets, that ought to be banished from honest vocabularies. A Court system that sends men of genius to the second table, I hold to be a Snobbish system. A society that sets up to be polite, and ignores Arts and Letters, I hold to be a Snobbish society. You, who despise your neighbor, are a Snob ; you, who forget your own friends, meanly to fol- low after those of a higher degree, are a Snob j you, who 518 THE BOOK OF SNOBS. are ashamed of your poverty, and blush for your calling, are a Snob ; as are you who boast of your pedigree, or are proud of your wealth. To laugh at such is Mr. Punch's business. May he laugh honestly, hit no foul blow, and tell the truth when at his very broadest grin never forgetting that if Fun is good, Truth is still better, and Love best of all. 41448