Real Life In London Part 2

"He is a branch of one of the most ancient families in the kingdom, and can trace his ancestors without interruption, from the days of William the Conqueror. His political career has been eventful, and perhaps has cost him more, both in pocket and person, than any Member of Parliament now existing. He took his seat in the House of Commons at an early age, and first rendered himself popular by his strenuous opposition to a bill purporting to regulate the publication of newspapers.

"The next object of his determined reprehension, was the Cold-Bath-Fields Prison, and the treatment of the unfortunates therein confined. The uniformly bold and energetic language made use of by the honourable Baronet upon that occasion, breathed the true spirit of British liberty. He reprobated the unconst.i.tutional measure of erecting what he termed a _Bastile_ in the very heart of a free country, as one that could neither have its foundation in national policy, nor eventually be productive of private good. He remarked that prisons, at which private punishments, cruel as they were illegal, were exercised, at the mercy of an unprincipled gaoler--cells in which human beings were exposed to the horrors of heart-sickening solitude, and depressed in spirit by their restriction to a scanty and exclusive allowance of bread and water, were not only incompatible with the spirit of the const.i.tution, but were likely to prove injurious to the spirit of the 23~~people of this happy country; for as Goldsmith admirably remarks,

"Princes and Lords may nourish or may fade, A breath can make them as a breath hath made, But a bold peasantry their country's pride, When once destroyed can never be supplied."

"_And if this be not tyranny_" continued the philanthropic orator, "_it is impossible to define the term. I promise you here_ that I will persevere to the last in unmasking this wanton abuse of justice and humanity." His invincible fort.i.tude in favour of the people, has rendered him a distinguished favourite among them: and though by some he is termed a visionary, an enthusiast, and a tool of party, his adherence to the rights of the subject, and his perseverance to uphold the principles of the const.i.tution, are deserving the admiration of every Englishman; and although his fortune is princely, and has been at his command ever since an early age, he has never had his name registered among the fashionable gamesters at the clubs in St. James's-street, Newmarket, or elsewhere. He labours in the vineyard of utility rather than in the more luxuriant garden of folly; and, according to general conception, may emphatically be called an honest man. "But come," said Tom, "it is time for us to move homeward--the company are drawing off I see, we must shape our course towards Piccadilly."

They dashed through the Park, not however without being saluted by many of his fashionable friends, who rejoiced to see that the Honourable Tom Dashall was again to be numbered among the votaries of Real Life in London; while the young squire, whose visionary orbs appeared to be in perpetual motion, dazzled with the splendid equipages of the moving panorama, was absorbed in reflections somewhat similar to the following:

"No spot on earth to me is half so fair As Hyde-Park Corner, or St. James's Square; And Happiness has surely fix'd her seat In Palace Yard, Pall Mall, or Downing Street: Are hills, and dales, and valleys half so gay As bright St. James's on a levee day?

What fierce ecstatic transports fire my soul, To hear the drivers swear, the coaches roll; The Courtier's compliment, the Ladies' clack, The satins rustle, and the whalebone crack!"

CHAPTER IV

"Together let us beat this ample field Try what the open, what the covert yield: The latent tracts, the giddy heights explore Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar; Eye nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise."

~~24~IT was half past five when the Hon. Tom Dashall, and his enraptured cousin, reached the habitation of the former, who had taken care to dispatch a groom, apprizing Mrs. Watson, the house-keeper, of his intention to be at home by half past six to dinner; consequently all was prepared for their reception. The style of elegance in which Tom appeared to move, struck Tallyho at once with delight and astonishment, as they entered the drawing-room; which was superbly and tastefully fitted up, and commanded a cheerful view of Piccadilly. "Welcome, my dear Bob!" said Tom to his cousin, "to all the delights of Town--come, tell me what you think of its first appearance, only remember you commence your studies of Life in London on a dull day; to-morrow you will have more enlivening prospects before you." "'Why in truth,"

replied Bob, "the rapidity of attraction is such, as at present to leave no distinct impressions on my mind; all appears like enchantment, and I am completely bewildered in a labyrinth of wonders, to which there appears to be no end; but under your kind guidance and tuition I may prove myself an apt scholar, in unravelling its intricacies." By this time they had approached the window.

"Aye, aye," says Dashall, "we shall not be long, I see, without some object to exercise your mind upon, and dispel the horrors.

"Oh for that Muse of fire, whose burning pen Records the G.o.d-like deeds of valiant men!

Then might our humble, yet aspiring verse, Our matchless hero's matchless deeds rehea.r.s.e."

~25~~Bob was surprised at this sudden exclamation of his cousin, and from the introduction naturally expected something extraordinary, though he looked around him without discovering his object.

"That," continued Tom, "is a Peer"--pointing to a gig just turning the corner, "of whom it may be said:

To many a jovial club that _Peer_ was known, With whom his active wit unrivall'd shone, Choice spirit, grave freemason, buck and blood, Would crowd his stories and _bon mots_ to hear, And none a disappointment e'er need fear His humour flow'd in such a copious flood."

"It is Lord C----, who was formerly well known as the celebrated Major H----, the companion of the now most distinguished personage in the British dominions! and who not long since became possessed of his lordly honours. Some particulars of him are worth knowing. He was early introduced into life, and often kept both good and bad company, a.s.sociating with men and women of every description and of every rank, from the highest to the lowest--from St. James's to St. Giles's, in palaces and night-cellars--from the drawing-room to the dust-cart. He can drink, swear, tell stories, cudgel, box, and smoke with any one; having by his intercourse with society fitted himself for all companies.

His education has been more practical than theoretical, though he was brought up at Eton, where, notwithstanding he made considerable progress in his studies, he took such an aversion to Greek that he never would learn it. Previous to his arrival at his present t.i.tle, he used to be called Honest George, and so unalterable is his nature, that to this hour he likes it, and it fits him better than his t.i.tle. But he has often been sadly put to his shifts under various circ.u.mstances: he was a courtier, but was too honest for that; he tried gaming, but he was too honest for that; he got into prison, and might have wiped off, but he was too honest for that; he got into the coal trade, but he found it a black business, and he was too honest for that. At drawing the long bow, so much perhaps cannot be said--but that you know is habit, not principle; his courage is undoubted, having fought three duels before he was twenty years of age.

Being disappointed in his hope of promotion in the army, he resolved, in spite of the remonstrances of his ~26~~friends, to quit the guards, and solicited an appointment in one of the Hessian corps, at that time raising for the British service in America, where the war of the revolution was then commencing, and obtained from the Landgrave of Hesse a captain's commission in his corps of Jagers.

Previous to his departure for America, finding he had involved himself in difficulties by a profuse expenditure, too extensive for his income, and an indulgence in the pleasures of the turf to a very great extent, he felt himself under the necessity of mortgaging an estate of about 11,000L. per annum, left him by his aunt, and which proved unequal to the liquidation of his debts. He remained in America till the end of the war, where he distinguished himself for bravery, and suffered much with the yellow fever. On his return, he obtained an introduction to the Prince of Wales, who by that time had lanched into public life, and became one of the jovial characters whom he selected for his a.s.sociates; and many are the amusing anecdotes related of him. The Prince conferred on him the appointment of equerry, with a salary of 300L. a year; this, however, he lost on the retrenchments that were afterwards made in the household of His Royal Highness. He continued, however, to be one of his constant companions, and while in his favour they were accustomed to practice strange vagaries. The Major was always a wag, ripe and ready for a _spree or a lark_.

"To him a frolic was a high delight, A frolic he would hunt for, day and night, Careless how prudence on the sport might frown."

At one time, when the favourite's finances were rather low, and the _mop.u.s.s.es ran taper_, it was remarked among the 60 vivants of the party, that the Major had not for some time given them an invitation.

This, however, he promised to do, and fixed the day--the Prince having engaged to make one. Upon this occasion he took lodgings in Tottenham-court Road--went to a wine-merchant--promised to introduce him to the royal presence, upon his engaging to find wine for the party, which was readily acceded to; and a dinner of three courses was served up. Three such courses, perhaps, were never before seen; when the company were seated, two large dishes appeared; one was placed at the top of the table, and one at the bottom; all was anxious expectation: ~27~~the covers being removed, exhibited to view, a baked shoulder of mutton at top, and baked potatoes at the bottom. They all looked around with astonishment, but, knowing the general eccentricity of their host, they readily fell into his humour, and partook of his fare; not doubting but the second course would make ample amends for the first. The wine was good, and the Major apologized for his accommodations, being, as he said, a family sort of man, and the dinner, though somewhat uncommon, was not such an one as is described by Goldsmith:

"At the top, a fried liver and bacon were seen; At the bottom was tripe, in a swinging tureen; At the sides there were spinach and pudding made hot; In the middle a place where the pasty--was not."

At length the second course appeared; when lo and behold, another baked shoulder of mutton and baked potatoes! Surprise followed surprise--but

"Another and another still succeeds."

The third course consisted of the same fare, clearly proving that he had in his catering studied quant.i.ty more than variety; however, they enjoyed the joke, eat as much as they pleased, laughed heartily at the dinner, and after b.u.mpering till a late hour, took their departure: it is said, however, that he introduced the wine-merchant to his Highness, who afterwards profited by his orders.{1}

1 This remarkable dinner reminds us of a laughable caricature which made its appearance some time ago upon the marriage of a Jew attorney, in Jewry-street, Aldgate, to the daughter of a well-known fishmonger, of St. Peter's-alley, Cornhill, when a certain Baronet, Alderman, Colonel, and then Lord Mayor, opened the ball at the London Tavern, as the partner of the bride; a circ.u.m-stance which excited considerable curiosity and surprise at the time. We know the worthy Baronet had been a hunter for a seat in Parliament, but what he could be hunting among the children of Israel is, perhaps, not so easily ascertained. We, however, are not speaking of the character, but the caricature, which represented the bride, not resting on Abraham's bosom, but seated on his knee, surrounded by their guests at the marriage-feast; while to a panel just behind them, appears to be affixed a bill of fare, which runs thus:

First course, Fish!

Second course, Fish!!

Third course, Fish!!!

Perhaps the idea of the artist originated in the anecdote above recorded.

~28~~It is reported that the Prince gave him a commission, under an express promise that when he could not shew it, he was no longer to enjoy his royal favour. This commission was afterwards lost by the improvident possessor, and going to call on the donor one morning, who espying him on his way, he threw up the sash and called out, "Well, George, commission or no commission?" "No commission, by G----, your Highness?" was the reply.

"Then you cannot enter here," rejoined the prince, closing the window and the connection at the same time.

"His Lordship now resides in the Regent's Park, and may almost nightly be seen at a public-house in the neighbourhood, where he takes his grog and smokes his pipe, amusing the company around him with anecdotes of his former days; we may, perhaps, fall in with him some night in our travels, and you will find him a very amusing and sometimes very sensible sort of fellow, till he gets his grog on board, when he can be as boisterous and bl.u.s.tering as a coal-heaver or a bully. His present fortune is impaired by his former imprudence, but he still mingles with the sporting world, and a short time back had his pocket picked, at a _milling_ match, of a valuable gold repeater. He has favoured the world with several literary productions, among which are Memoirs of his own Life, embellished with a view of the author, suspended from (to use the phrase of a late celebrated auctioneer) a _hanging wood_; and a very elaborate treatise on the Art of Rat-catching. In the advertis.e.m.e.nt of the latter work, the author engages it will enable the reader to "clear any house of these noxious vermin, however much infested, excepting only a certain great House in the neighbourhood of St. Stephen's, Westminster."{1}

1 It appears by the newspapers, that the foundation of a certain great house in Pall Mall is rotten, and giving-way.

The cause is not stated; but as it cannot arise from being top-heavy, we may presume that the rats have been at work there. Query, would not an early application of the Major's recipe have remedied the evil, and prevented the necessity of a removal of a very heavy body, which of course, must be attended with a very heavy expense? 'Tis a pity an old friend should have been overlooked on such an occasion.

~29~~"Do you," said Tom, pointing to a person on the other side of the way, "see that young man, walking with a half-smothered air of indifference, affecting to whistle as he walks, and twirling his stick? He is a _once-a-week man_, or, in other words, a _Sunday promenader_--Harry Hairbrain was born of a good family, and, at the decease of his father, became possessed of ten thousand pounds, which he sported with more zeal than discretion, so much so, that having been introduced to the gaming table by a pretended friend, and fluctuated between poverty and affluence for four years, he found himself considerably in debt, and was compelled to seek refuge in an obscure lodging, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Kilburn, in order to avoid the _traps_; for, as he observes, he has been among the _Greeks and pigeons_, who have completely _rook'd_ him, and now want to crow over him: he has been at hide and seek for the last two months, and, depending on the death of a rich old maiden aunt who has no other heir, he eventually hopes to '_diddle 'em_.'"

This narrative of Hairbrain was like Hebrew ta Tallyho, who requested his interesting cousin, as he found himself at _falt, to try back_, and put him on the _right scent_.

"Ha! ha! ha!" said Tom, "we must find a new London vocabulary, I see, before we shall be able to converse intelligibly; but as you are now solely under my tuition, I will endeavour to throw a little light upon the subject.

"Your _once-a-week man, or Sunday promenader_, is one who confines himself, to avoid confinement, lodging in remote quarters in the vicinity of the Metropolis, within a mile or two of the Bridges, Oxford Street, or Hyde-Park Corner, and is constrained to waste six uncomfortable and useless days in the week, in order to secure the enjoyment of the seventh, when he fearlessly ventures forth, to recruit his ideas--to give a little variety to the sombre picture of life, unmolested, to transact his business, or to call on some old friend, and keep up those relations with the world which would otherwise be completely neglected or broken.

"Among characters of this description, may frequently be recognised the remnant of fashion, and, perhaps, the impression of n.o.bility not wholly destroyed by adversity and seclusion--the air and manners of a man who has ~30~~outlived his century, with an a.s.sumption of _sans souci_ pourtrayed in his agreeable smile, murmur'd through a low whistle of 'Begone dull care,' or 'No more by sorrow chased, my heart,' or played off by the flourishing of a whip, or the rapping of a boot that has a spur attached to it, which perhaps has not crossed a horse for many months; and occasionally by a judicious glance at another man's carriage, horses, or appointments, which indicates taste, and the former possession of such valuable things. These form a part of the votaries of Real Life in London. This however," said he (observing his cousin in mute attention) "is but a gloomy part of the scene; vet, perhaps, not altogether uninteresting or unprofitable."

"I can a.s.sure you," replied Tallyho, "I am delighted with the accurate knowledge you appear to have of society in general, while I regret the situation of the actors in scenes so glowingly described, and am only astonished at the appearance of such persons."

"You must not be astonished at appearances," rejoined Dashall, "for appearance is every thing in London; and I must particularly warn you not to found your judgment upon it. There is an old adage, which says 'To _be_ poor, and _seem_ poor, is the Devil all over.' Why, if you meet one of these _Sunday-men_, he will accost you with urbanity and affected cheerfulness, endeavouring to inspire you with an idea that he is one of the happiest of mortals; while, perhaps, the worm of sorrow is secretly gnawing his heart, and preying upon his const.i.tution. Honourable sentiment, struggling with untoward circ.u.mstances, is destroying his vitals; not having the courage to pollute his character by a jail-delivery, or to condescend to _white-washing_, or some low bankrupt trick, to extricate himself from difficulty, in order to stand upright again.

"A _once-a-week man, or Sunday promenader_, frequently takes his way through bye streets and short cuts, through courts and alleys, as it were between retirement and a desire to see what is going on in the scenes of his former splendour, to take a sly peep at that world from which he seems to be excluded."

"And for all such men," replied Bob, "expelled from high and from good society, (even though I were compelled to allow by their own imprudence and folly) I ~31~~should always like to have a spare hundred, to send them in an anonymous cover."

"You are right," rejoined Tom, catching him ardently by the hand, "the sentiment does honour to your head and heart; for to such men, in general, is attached a heart-broken wife, withering by their side in the shade, as the leaves and the blossom cling together at all seasons, in sickness or in health, in affluence or in poverty, until the storm beats too roughly on them, and prematurely destroys the weakest. But I must warn you not to let your liberality get the better of your discretion, for there are active and artful spirits abroad, and even these necessities and miseries are made a handle for deception, to entrap the unwary; and you yet have much to learn--Puff lived two years on sickness and misfortune, by advertis.e.m.e.nts in the newspapers."

"How?" enquired Bob.

"You shall have it in his own words," said Dashall.

"I suppose never man went through such a series of "calamities in the same s.p.a.ce of time! Sir, I was five "times made a bankrupt and reduced from a state of "affluence, by a train of unavoidable misfortunes! then "Sir, though a very industrious tradesman, I was twice "burnt out, and lost my little all both times! I lived "upon those fires a month. I soon after was confined by a "most excruciating disorder, and lost the use of my limbs!

"That told very well; for I had the case strongly attested, "and went about col--called on you, a close prisoner "in the Marshalsea, for a debt benevolently contracted "to serve a friend. I was afterwards twice tapped "for a dropsy, which declined into a very profitable "consumption! I was then reduced to--0--no--then, "I became a widow with six helpless children--after "having had eleven husbands pressed, and being left "every time eight months gone with child, and without "money to get me into an hospital!"