The Attache or Sam Slick in England Part 25

"Well, what's to prevent your boys gettin' those prizes, if colonists was made Christians of, instead of outlawed, exiled, transported, oncarc.u.mcised heathen Indgean n.i.g.g.e.rs, as they be. If people don't put into a lottery, how the devil can they get prizes? will you tell me that. Look at the critters here, look at the publicans, taylors, barbers, and porters' sons, how the've rose here, 'in this big lake,'

to be chancellors and archbishops; how did they get them? They 'aimed high,' and besides, all that, like father's story of the gun, by 'aiming high,' though they may miss the mark, they will be sure to hit the upper circles. Oh, Squire, there is nothing like 'aiming high,' in this world."

"I quite agree with you, Sam," said Mr. Hopewell. "I never heard you speak so sensibly before. Nothing can be better for young men than "Aiming high." Though they may not attain to the highest honours, they may, as you say, reach to a most respectable station. But surely, Squire, you will never so far forget the respect that is due to so high an officer as a Secretary of State, or, indeed, so far forget yourself as to adopt a course, which from its eccentricity, violence, and impropriety, must leave the impression that your intellects are disordered. Surely you will never be tempted to make the experiment?"

"I should think not, indeed," I said. "I have no desire to become an inmate of a lunatic asylum."

"Good," said he; "I am satisfied. I quite agree with Sam, though.

Indeed, I go further. I do not think he has advised you to recommend your boys to 'aim high enough.'"

"Creation! said Mr. Slick, "how much higher do you want provincial frogs to go, than to be 'Chancellor' and 'Primate?'

"I'll tell you, Sam; I'd advise them to 'aim higher' than earthly honours. I would advise them to do their duty, in any station of life in which it shall please Providence to place them; and instead of striving after unattainable objects here, to be unceasing in their endeavours to obtain that which, on certain conditions, is promised to all hereafter.

In their worldly pursuits, as men, it is right for them to '_aim high_;'

but as Christians, it is also their duty to '_aim higher_.'"

CHAPTER XI. A SWOI-REE.

Mr. Slick visited me late last night, dressed as if he had been at a party, but very cross, and, as usual when in that frame of mind, he vented his ill-humour on the English.

"Where have you been to-night, Mr. Slick?"

"Jist where the English hosses will be," he replied, "when Old Clay comes here to this country;--no where. I have been on a stair-case, that's where I have been; and a pretty place to see company in, ain't it? I have been jammed to death in an entry, and what's wus than all, I have given one gall a black eye with my elbow, tore another one's frock off with my b.u.t.tons, and near about cut a third one's leg in two with my hat. Pretty well for one night's work, ain't it? and for me too, that's so fond of the dear little critturs, I wouldn't hurt a hair of their head, if I could help it, to save my soul alive. What a spot o' work!

"What the plague do people mean here by askin' a mob to their house, and invitin' twice as many as can get into it? If they think it's complimental, they are infarnally mistaken, that's all: it's an insult and nothin' else, makin' a fool of a body that way. Heavens and airth! I am wringing wet! I'm ready to faint! Where's the key of your cellaret? I want some brandy and water. I'm dead; bury me quick, for I won't be nice directly. Oh dear! how that lean gall hurt me! How horrid sharp her bones are!

"I wish to goodness you'd go to a Swoi-ree oncet, Squire, jist oncet--a grand let off, one that's upper crust and rael jam. It's worth seein'

oncet jist as a show, I tell _you_, for you have no more notion of it than a child. All Halifax, if it was swept up clean and shook out into a room, wouldn't make one swoi-ree. I have been to three to night, and all on 'em was mobs--regular mobs. The English are horrid fond of mobs, and I wonder at it too; for of all the cowardly, miserable, scarry mobs, that ever was seen in this blessed world, the English is the wust.

Two dragoons will clear a whole street as quick as wink, any time. The instant they see 'em, they jist run like a flock of sheep afore a couple of bull dogs, and slope off properly skeered. Lawful heart, I wish they'd send for a dragoon, all booted, and spurred, and mounted, and let him gallop into a swoi-ree, and charge the mob there. He'd clear 'em out _I_ know, double quick: he'd chase one quarter of 'em down stairs head over heels, and another quarter would jump out o' the winders, and break their confounded necks to save their lives, and then the half that's left, would he jist about half too many for comfort.

"My first party to-night wus a conversation one; that is for them that _could_ talk; as for me I couldn't talk a bit, and all I could think was, 'how infarnal hot it is! I wish I could get in!' or, 'oh dear, if I could only get out!' It was a scientific party, a mob o' men. Well, every body expected somebody would be squashed to death, and so ladies went, for they always go to executions. They've got a kinder nateral taste for the horrors, have women. They like to see people hanged or trod to death, when they can get a chance. It _was_ a conversation warn't it? that's all. I couldn't understand a word I heard. Trap shale Greywachy; a petrified snail, the most important discovery of modern times. Bank governor's machine weighs sovereigns, light ones go to the right, and heavy ones to the left.

"'Stop,' says I, 'if you mean the sovereign people here, there are none on 'em light. Right and left is both monstrous heavy; all over weight, every one on 'em. I'm squeezed to death.'

"'Very good, Mr. Slick. Let me introduce you to ----,' they are whipt off in the current, and I don't see 'em again no more. 'A beautiful shew of flowers, Madam, at the garden: they are all in full blow now. The rhododendron--had a tooth pulled when she was asleep.' 'Please to let me pa.s.s, Sir.' 'With all my heart, Miss, if I could; but I can't move; if I could I would down on the carpet, and you should walk over me. Take care of your feet, Miss, I am off of mine. Lord bless me! what's this? why as I am a livin' sinner, it's half her frock hitched on to my coat b.u.t.ton.

Now I know what that scream meant.'

"'How do you do, Mr. Slick? When did you come?' 'Why I came--' he is turned round, and shoved out o' hearin.' 'Xanthian marbles at the British Museum are quite wonderful; got into his throat, the doctor turned him upside down, stood him on his head, and out it came--his own tunnel was too small.' 'Oh, Sir, you are cuttin' me.' 'Me, Miss! Where had I the pleasure of seein' you before, I never cut a lady in my life, could'nt do so rude a thing. Havn't the honour to recollect you.' 'Oh, Sir, take it away, it cuts me.' Poor thing, she is distracted, I don't wonder. She's drove crazy, though I think she must have been mad to come here at all. 'Your hat, Sir.' 'Oh, that cussed French hat is it? Well, the rim is as stiff and as sharp as a cleaver, that's a fact, I don't wonder it cut you.' 'Eddis's pictur--capital painting, fell out of the barge, and was drowned.' 'Having been beat on the shillin' duty; they will attach him on the fourpence, and thimble rigg him out of that.'

'They say Sugden is in town, hung in a bad light, at the Temple Church.'----'Who is that?' 'Lady Fobus; paired off for the Session; Brodie operated.'----Lady Francis; got the Life Guards; there will be a division to-night.'----That's Sam Slick; I'll introduce you; made a capital speech in the House of Lords, in answer to Brougham--Lobelia--voted for the bill--The d.u.c.h.ess is very fond of----Irish Arms--'

"Oh! now I'm in the entry. How tired I am! It feels shockin' cold here, too, arter comin' out o' that hot room. Guess I'll go to the grand musical party. Come, this will do; this is Christian-like, there is room here; but the singin' is in next room, I will go and hear them. Oh! here they are agin; it's a proper mob this. Cuss, these English, they can't live out of mobs. Prince Albert is there in that room; I must go and see him. He is popular; he is a renderin' of himself very agreeable to the English, is Prince: he mixes with them as much as he can; and shews his sense in that. Church steeples are very pretty things: that one to Antwerp is splendiriferous; it's everlastin' high, it most breaks your neck layin' back your head to look at it; bend backward like a hoop, and stare at it once with all your eyes, and you can't look up agin, you are satisfied. It tante no use for a Prince to carry a head so high as that, Albert knows this; he don't want to be called the highest steeple, cause all the world knows he is about the top loftiest; but he want's to descend to the world we live in.

"With a Queen all men love, and a Prince all men like, royalty has a root in the heart here. Pity, too, for the English don't desarve to have a Queen; and such a Queen as they have got too, hang me if they do. They ain't men, they hante the feelin's or pride o' men in 'em; they ain't what they used to be, the nasty, dirty, mean-spirited, sneakin' skunks, for if they had a heart as big as a pea--and that ain't any great size, nother--cuss 'em, when any feller pinted a finger at her to hurt her, or even frighten her, they'd string him right up on the spot, to the lamp post. Lynch him like a dog that steals sheep right off the reel, and save mad-doctors, skary judges, and Chartist papers all the trouble of findin' excuses. And, if that didn't do, Chinese like, they'd take the whole crowd present and sarve _them_ out. They'd be sure to catch the right one then. I wouldn't shed blood, because that's horrid; it shocks all Christian people, philosophisin' legislators, sentimental ladies, and spooney gentlemen. It's horrid barbarous that, is sheddin' blood; I wouldn't do that, I'd jist hang him. A strong cord tied tight round his neck would keep that precious mixtur, traitor's blood, all in as close as if his mouth was corked, wired, and white-leaded, like a champagne bottle.

"Oh dear! these are the fellers that come out a travellin' among us, and sayin' the difference atween you and us is 'the absence of loyalty.'

I've heard tell a great deal of that loyalty, but I've seen precious little of it, since I've been here, that's a fact. I've always told you these folks ain't what they used to be, and I see more and more, on 'em every day. Yes, the English are like their hosses, they are so fine bred, there is nothin' left of 'em now but the hide, hair, and shoes.

"So Prince Albert is there in that room; I must get in there and see him, for I have never sot eyes on him since I've been here, so here goes. Onder, below there, look out for your corns, hawl your feet in, like turtles, for I am a comin'. Take care o' your ribs, my old 'c.o.o.ns, for my elbows are crooked. Who wants to grow? I'll squeeze you out as a rollin'-pin does dough, and make you ten inches taller. I'll make good figures of you, my fat boys and galls, I know. Look out for scaldin's there. Here I am: it's me, Sam Slick, make way, or I'll walk right over you, and cronch you like lobsters. 'Cheap talkin', or rather thinkin', sais I; for in course I couldn't bawl that out in company here; they don't understand fun, and would think it rude, and ongenteel. I have to be shockin' cautious what I say here, for fear I might lower our great nation in the eyes of foreigners. I have to look big and talk big the whole blessed time, and I am tired of it. It ain't nateral to me; and, besides braggin' and repudiatin' at the same time, is most as bad as cantin' and swearin'. It kinder chokes me. I thought it all though, and said it all to myself. 'And,' sais I, 'take your time, Sam; you can't do it, no how, you can fix-it. You must wait your time, like other folks.

Your legs is tied, and your arms is tied down by the crowd, and you can't move an inch beyond your nose. The only way is, watch your chance, wait till you can get your hands up, then turn the fust two persons that's next to you right round, and slip between them like a turn stile in the park, and work your pa.s.sage that way. Which is the Prince? That's him with the hair carefully divided, him with the moustaches. I've seed him; a plaguy handsum man he is, too. Let me out now. I'm stifled, I'm choked. My jaws stick together, I can't open 'em no more; and my wind won't hold out another minute.

"I have it now, I've got an idea. See if I don't put the leake into 'em. Won't I _do_ them, that's all? Clear the way there, the Prince is a comin', _and_ so is the Duke. And a way is opened: waves o' the sea roll hack at these words, and I walks right out, as large as life, and the fust Egyptian that follers is drowned, for the water has closed over him. Sarves him right, too, what business had he to grasp my life-preserver without leave. I have enough to do to get along by my own wit, without carry in' double.

"'Where is the Prince? Didn't they say he was a comin'? Who was that went out? He don't look like the Prince; he ain't half so handsum, that feller, he looks, like a Yankee.' 'Why, that was Sam Slick.' 'Capital, that! What a droll feller he is; he is always so ready! He desarves credit for that trick.' Guess I do; but let old Connecticut alone; us Slickville boys always find a way to dodge in or out embargo or no embargo, blockade or no blockade, we larnt that last war.

"Here I am in the street agin; the air feels handsum. I have another invitation to-night, shall I go? Guess I will. All the world is at these two last places, I reckin there will be breathin' room at the next; and I want an ice cream to cool my coppers, shockin' bad.--Creation! It is wus than ever; this party beats t'other ones all holler. They ain't no touch to it. I'll jist go and make a sc.r.a.pe to old uncle and aunty, and then cut stick; for I hante strength to swiggle my way through another mob.

"'You had better get in fust, though, hadn't you, Sam? for here you are agin wracked, by gosh, drove right slap ash.o.r.e atween them two fat women, and fairly wedged in and bilged. You can't get through, and can't get out, if you was to die for it.' 'Can't I though? I'll try; for I never give in, till I can't help it. So here's at it. Heave off, put all steam on, and back out, starn fust, and then swing round into the stream. That's the ticket, Sam.' It's done; but my elbow has took that lady that's two steps furder down on the stairs, jist in the eye, and knocked in her dead light. How she cries! how I apologize, don't I?

And the more I beg pardon, the wus she carries on. But it's no go; if I stay, I must fust fight somebody, and then marry _her_; for I've spiled her beauty, and that's the rule here, they tell me.'

"So I sets studen sail booms, and cracks on all sail, and steers for home, and here I am once more; at least what's left of me, and that ain't much more nor my shader. Oh dear! I'm tired, shockin' tired, almost dead, and awful thirsty; for Heaven's sake, give me some lignum vitae, for I am so dry, I'll blow away in dust.

"This is a Swoi-ree, Squire, this is London society; this is rational enjoyment, this is a meeting of friends, who are so infarnal friendly they are jammed together so they can't leave each other. Inseparable friends; you must choke 'em off, or you can't part 'em. Well, I ain't jist so thick and intimate with none o' them in this country as all that comes to nother. I won't lay down my life for none on 'em; I don't see no occasion for it, _do you_?

"I'll dine with you, John Bull, if you axe me; and I ain't nothin' above particular to do, and the cab hire don't cost more nor the price of a dinner; but hang me if ever I go to a Swoi-ree agin. I've had enough of that, to last me _my_ life, I know. A dinner I hante no objection to, though that ain't quite so bright as a pewter b.u.t.ton nother, when you don't know you're right and left, hand man. And an evenin' party, I wouldn't take my oath I wouldn't go to, though I don't know hardly what to talk about, except America; and I've bragged so much about that, I'm tired of the subject. But a _Swoi-ree is the devil, that's a fact_."

CHAPTER XII. TATTERSALL'S OR, THE ELDER AND THE GRAVE DIGGER.

"Squire," said Mr. Slick, "it ain't rainin' to-day; suppose you come along with me to Tattersall's. I have been studyin' that place a considerable sum to see whether it is a safe shop to trade in or no. But I'm dubersome; I don't like the cut of the sportin' folks here. If I can see both eends of the rope, and only one man has hold of one eend, and me of the tother, why I know what I am about; but if I can only see my own eend, I don't know who I am a pullin' agin. I intend to take a rise out o' some o' the knowin' ones here, that will make 'em scratch their heads, and stare, I know. But here we are. Cut round this corner, into this Lane. Here it is; this is it to the right."

We entered a sort of coach-yard, which was filled with a motley and mixed crowd of people. I was greatly disappointed in Tattersall's.

Indeed, few things in London have answered my expectations. They have either exceeded or fallen short of the description I had heard of them.

I was prepared, both from what I was told by Mr. Slick, and heard, from others, to find that there were but very few gentlemen-like looking men there; and that by far the greater number neither were, nor affected to be, any thing but "knowing ones." I was led to believe that there would be a plentiful use of the terms _of art_, a variety of provincial accent, and that the conversation of the jockeys and grooms would be liberally garnished with appropriate slang.

The gentry portion of the throng, with some few exceptions, it was said, wore a dissipated look, and had that peculiar appearance of incipient disease, that indicates a life of late hours, of excitement, and bodily exhaustion. Lower down in the scale of life, I was informed, intemperance had left its indelible marks. And that still further down, were to be found the worthless lees of this foul and polluted stream of sporting gentlemen, spendthrifts, gamblers, bankrupts, sots, sharpers and jockeys.

This was by no means the case. It was just what a man might have expected to have found a great sporting exchange and auction mart, of horses and carriages, to have been, in a great city like London, had he been merely told that such was the object of the place, and then left to imagine the scene. It was, as I have before said, a mixed and motley crowd; and must necessarily be so, where agents attend to bid for their princ.i.p.als, where servants are in waiting upon their masters, and above all, where the ingress is open to every one.

It is, however, unquestionably the resort of gentlemen. In a great and rich country like this, there must, unavoidably, be a Tattersall's; and the wonder is, not that it is not better, but that it is not infinitely worse. Lake all striking pictures, it had strong lights and shades.

Those who have suffered, are apt to retaliate; and a man who has been duped, too often thinks he has a right to make reprisals. Tattersall's, therefore, is not without its privateers. Many persons of rank and character patronize sporting, from a patriotic but mistaken notion, that it is to the turf alone the excellence of the English horse is attributable.

One person of this description, whom I saw there for a short time, I had the pleasure of knowing before; and from him I learned many interesting anecdotes of individuals whom he pointed out as having been once well known about town, but whose attachment to gambling had effected their ruin. Personal stories of this kind are, however, not within the scope of this work.

As soon as we entered, Mr. Slick called my attention to the carriages which were exhibited for sale, to their elegant shape and "beautiful fixins," as he termed it; but ridiculed, in no measured terms, their enormous weight. "It is no wonder," said he, "they have to get fresh hosses here every ten miles, and travellin' costs so much, when the carriage alone is enough to kill beasts. What would Old Bull say, if I was to tell him of one pair of hosses carryin' three or four people, forty or fifty miles a-day, day in and day out, hand runnin' for a fortnight? Why, he'd either be too civil to tell me it was a lie, or bein' afeerd I'd jump down his throat if he did, he'd sing dumb, and let me see by his looks, he thought so, though.

"I intend to take the consait out of these chaps, and that's a fact. If I don't put the leak into 'em afore I've done with them, my name ain't Sam Slick, that's a fact. I'm studyin' the ins and the outs of this place, so as to know what I am about, afore I take hold; for I feel kinder skittish about my men. Gentlemen are the lowest, lyinest, bullyinest, blackguards there is, when they choose to be; 'specially if they have rank as well as money. A thoroughbred cheat, of good blood, is a clipper, that's a fact. They ain't right up-and-down, like a cow's tail, in their dealin's; and they've got accomplices, fellers that will lie for 'em like any thing, for the honour of their company; and bettin', onder such circ.u.mstances, ain't safe.

"But, I'll tell you what is, if you have got a hoss that can do it, and no mistake: back him, hoss agin hoss, or what's safer still, hoss agin time, and you can't be tricked. Now, I'll send for Old Clay, to come in Cunard's steamer, and cuss 'em they ought to bring over the old hoss and his fixins, free, for it was me first started that line. The way old Mr.

Glenelg stared, when I told him it was thirty-six miles shorter to go from Bristol to New York by the way of Halifax, than to go direct warn't slow. It stopt steam for that hitch, that's a fact, for he thort I was mad. He sent it down to the Admiralty to get it ciphered right, and it took them old seagulls, the Admirals a month to find it out.

"And when they did, what did they say? Why, cuss 'em, says they, 'any fool knows that.' Says I, 'If that's the case you are jist the boys then that ought to have found it out right off at oncet.'

"Yes, Old Clay ought to go free, but he won't; and guess I am able to pay freight for him, and no thanks to n.o.body. Now, I'll tell you what, English trottin' is about a mile in two minutes and forty-seven seconds, and that don't happen oftener than oncet in fifty years, if it was ever done at all, for the English brag so there is no telling right. Old Clay _can_ do his mile in two minutes and thirty-eight seconds. He _has_ done that, and I guess he _could_ do more. I have got a car, that is as light as whalebone, and I'll bet to do it with wheels and drive myself. I'll go in up to the handle, on Old Clay. I have a hundred thousand dollars of hard cash made in the colonies, I'll go half of it on the old hoss, hang me if I don't, and I'll make him as well knowd to England as he is to Nova Scotia.