FORING PARTS.
It was a singular proof of my master's modesty, that though he had wonthis andsome sum of Mr. Dawkins, and was inclined to be as extravygantand osntatious as any man I ever seed, yet, when he determined on goingto Paris, he didn't let a single frend know of all them winnings of his;didn't acquaint my Lord Crabs his father, that he was about to leavehis natiff shoars--neigh--didn't even so much as call together histradesmin, and pay off their little bills befor his departure.
On the contry, "Chawles," said he to me, "stick a piece of paper on mydoor," which is the way that lawyers do, "and write 'Back at seven'upon it." Back at seven I wrote, and stuck it on our outer oak. And somistearus was Deuceace about his continental tour (to all except me),that when the landriss brought him her account for the last month(amountain, at the very least, to 2L. 10s.), master told her to leave ittill Monday morning, when it should be properly settled. It's extrodnyhow ickonomical a man becomes, when he's got five thousand lbs. in hispockit.
Back at 7 indeed! At 7 we were a-roalin on the Dover Road, in theReglator Coach--master inside, me out. A strange company of people therewas, too, in that wehicle,--3 sailors; an Italyin with his music-box andmunky; a missionary, going to convert the heathens in France; 2 oppragirls (they call 'em figure-aunts), and the figure-aunts' mothersinside; 4 Frenchmin, with gingybred caps and mustashes, singing,chattering, and jesticklating in the most vonderful vay. Suchcompliments as passed between them and the figure-aunts! such a munshinof biskits and sippin of brandy! such "O mong Jews," and "O sacrrres,"and "kill fay frwaws!" I didn't understand their languidge at that time,so of course can't igsplain much of their conwersation; but it pleasedme, nevertheless, for now I felt that I was reely going into foringparts: which, ever sins I had had any edication at all, was always myfondest wish. Heavin bless us! thought I, if these are specimeens ofall Frenchmen, what a set they must be. The pore Italyin's monky, sittinmopin and meluncolly on his box, was not half so ugly, and seamed quiteas reasonabble.
Well, we arrived at Dover--"Ship Hotel" weal cutlets half a ginny,glas of ale a shilling, glas of neagush, half a crownd, a hapnyworth ofwax-lites four shillings, and so on. But master paid without grumbling;as long as it was for himself he never minded the expens: and nex day weembarked in the packit for Balong sir-mare--which means in French, thetown of Balong sityouated on the sea. I who had heard of foringwonders, expected this to be the fust and greatest: phansy, then, mydisapintment, when we got there, to find this Balong, not situated onthe sea, but on the SHOAR.
But oh! the gettin there was the bisniss. How I did wish for Pump Courtagin, as we were tawsing abowt in the Channel! Gentle reader, av youever been on the otion?--"The sea, the sea, the open sea!" as BarryCromwell says. As soon as we entered our little wessel, and I'dlooked to master's luggitch and mine (mine was rapt up in a very smallhankercher), as soon, I say, as we entered our little wessel, as soonas I saw the waives, black and frothy, like fresh drawn porter, a-dashinagainst the ribs of our galliant bark, the keal like a wedge, splittinthe billoes in two, the sales a-flaffin in the hair, the standard ofHengland floating at the mask-head, the steward a-getting ready thebasins and things, the capting proudly tredding the deck and givingorders to the salers, the white rox of Albany and the bathin-masheensdisappearing in the distans--then, then I felt, for the first time,the mite, the madgisty of existence. "Yellowplush my boy," said I, in adialogue with myself, "your life is now about to commens--your carear,as a man, dates from your entrans on board this packit. Be wise, bemanly, be cautious, forgit the follies of your youth. You are no longera boy now, but a FOOTMAN. Throw down your tops, your marbles, yourboyish games--throw off your childish habbits with your inky clerk'sjackit--throw up your--"
. . . . . .
Here, I recklect, I was obleeged to stopp. A fealin, in the fust placesinglar, in the next place painful, and at last compleatly overpowering,had come upon me while I was making the abuff speach, and now I foundmyself in a sityouation which Dellixy for Bids me to describe. Suffis tosay, that now I dixcovered what basins was made for--that for many, manyhours, I lay in a hagony of exostion, dead to all intense and porpuses,the rain pattering in my face, the salers tramplink over my body--thepanes of purgatory going on inside. When we'd been about four hours inthis sityouation (it seam'd to me four ears), the steward comes to thatpart of the deck where we servants were all huddled up together, andcalls out "Charles!"
"Well," says I, gurgling out a faint "yes, what's the matter?"
"You're wanted."
"Where?"
"Your master's wery ill," says he, with a grin.
"Master be hanged!" says I, turning round, more misrable than ever. Iwoodn't have moved that day for twenty thousand masters--no, not for theEmpror of Russia or the Pop of Room.
Well, to cut this sad subjik short, many and many a voyitch have I sinshad upon what Shakspur calls the "wasty dip," but never such a retchedone as that from Dover to Balong, in the year Anna Domino 1818. Steemerswere scarce in those days; and our journey was made in a smack. At last,when I was in a stage of despare and exostion, as reely to phansy myselfat Death's doar, we got to the end of our journey. Late in the eveningwe hailed the Gaelic shoars, and hankered in the arbor of Balongsir-mare.
It was the entrans of Parrowdice to me and master: and as we entered thecalm water, and saw the comfrabble lights gleaming in the houses, andfelt the roal of the vessel degreasing, never was two mortials gladder,I warrant, than we were. At length our capting drew up at the key, andour journey was down. But such a bustle and clatter, such jabbering,such shrieking and swaring, such wollies of oafs and axicrations assaluted us on landing, I never knew! We were boarded, in the fust place,by custom-house officers in cock-hats, who seased our luggitch, andcalled for our passpots: then a crowd of inn-waiters came, tumbling andscreaming on deck--"Dis way, sare," cries one; "Hotel Meurice," saysanother; "Hotel de Bang," screeches another chap--the tower of Babylewas nothink to it. The fust thing that struck me on landing was abig fellow with ear-rings, who very nigh knock me down, in wrenchingmaster's carpet-bag out of my hand, as I was carrying it to the hotell.But we got to it safe at last; and, for the fust time in my life, I slepin a foring country.
I shan't describe this town of Balong, which, as it has been visited bynot less (on an avaridg) than two milliums of English since I fustsaw it twenty years ago, is tolrabbly well known already. It's a dingymelumcolly place, to my mind; the only thing moving in the streets isthe gutter which runs down 'em. As for wooden shoes, I saw few of 'em;and for frogs, upon my honor I never see a single Frenchman swallowone, which I had been led to beleave was their reg'lar, though beastly,custom. One thing which amazed me was the singlar name which they giveto this town of Balong. It's divided, as every boddy knows, intoan upper town (sitouate on a mounting, and surrounded by a wall, orbullyvar) and a lower town, which is on the level of the sea. Well, willit be believed that they call the upper town the Hot Veal, and the otherthe Base Veal, which is on the contry, genrally good in France, thoughthe beaf, it must be confest, is excrabble.
It was in the Base Veal that Deuceace took his lodgian, at the Hotelde Bang, in a very crooked street called the Rue del Ascew; and if he'dbeen the Archbishop of Devonshire, or the Duke of Canterbury, he couldnot have given himself greater hairs, I can tell you. Nothink was toofine for us now; we had a sweet of rooms on the first floor, whichbelonged to the prime minister of France (at least the landlord saidthey were the premier's); and the Hon. Algernon Percy Deuceace, who hadnot paid his landriss, and came to Dover in a coach, seamed now to thinkthat goold was too vulgar for him, and a carridge and six would breakdown with a man of his weight. Shampang flew about like ginger-pop,besides bordo, clarit, burgundy, burgong, and other wines, and all thedelixes of the Balong kitchins. We stopped a fortnit at this dull place,and did nothing from morning till night excep walk on the bench, andwatch the ships going in and out of arber, with one of them long,sliding opra-glasses, which they call, I don't know why,
tallow-scoops.Our amusements for the fortnit we stopped here were boath numerous anddaliteful; nothink, in fact, could be more pickong, as they say. In themorning before breakfast we boath walked on the Peer; master in a bluemareen jackit, and me in a slap-up new livry; both provided with longsliding opra-glasses, called as I said (I don't know Y, but I supposeit's a scientafick term) tallow-scoops. With these we igsamined, veryattentively, the otion, the sea-weed, the pebbles, the dead cats, thefishwimmin, and the waives (like little children playing at leap-frog),which came tumblin over 1 another on to the shoar. It seemed to me as ifthey were scrambling to get there, as well they might, being sick of thesea, and anxious for the blessid, peaceable terry firmy.
After brexfast, down we went again (that is, master on his beat, and meon mine,--for my place in this foring town was a complete shinycure),and putting our tally-scoops again in our eyes, we egsamined a littlemore the otion, pebbils, dead cats, and so on; and this lasted tilldinner, and dinner till bedtime, and bedtime lasted till nex day, whencame brexfast, and dinner, and tally-scooping, as before. This is theway with all people of this town, of which, as I've heard say, there isten thousand happy English, who lead this plesnt life from year's end toyear's end.
Besides this, there's billiards and gambling for the gentlemen, a littledancing for the gals, and scandle for the dowygers. In none of theseamusements did we partake. We were a LITTLE too good to play crown pintsat cards, and never get paid when we won; or to go dangling after theportionless gals, or amuse ourselves with slops and penny-wist alongwith the old ladies. No, no; my master was a man of fortn now, andbehayved himself as sich. If ever he condysended to go into the publicroom of the Hotel de Bang--the French (doubtless for reasons best knownto themselves) call this a sallymanjy--he swoar more and lowder thanany one there; he abyoused the waiters, the wittles, the wines. With hisglas in his i, he staired at every body. He took always the place beforethe fire. He talked about "my carridge," "my currier," "my servant;" andhe did wright. I've always found through life, that if you wish to berespected by English people, you must be insalent to them, especiallyif you are a sprig of nobiliaty. We LIKE being insulted by noblemen,--itshows they're familiar with us. Law bless us! I've known many and manya genlmn about town who'd rather be kicked by a lord than not be noticedby him; they've even had an aw of ME, because I was a lord's footman.While my master was hectoring in the parlor, at Balong, pretious airsI gave myself in the kitching, I can tell you; and the consequints was,that we were better served, and moar liked, than many pipple with twiceour merit.
Deuceace had some particklar plans, no doubt, which kep him so long atBalong; and it clearly was his wish to act the man of fortune there fora little time before he tried the character of Paris. He purchased acarridge, he hired a currier, he rigged me in a fine new livry blazinwith lace, and he past through the Balong bank a thousand pounds of themoney he had won from Dawkins, to his credit at a Paris house; showingthe Balong bankers at the same time, that he'd plenty moar in hispotfolie. This was killin two birds with one stone; the bankers' clerksspread the nuse over the town, and in a day after master had paid themoney every old dowyger in Balong had looked out the Crabs' familypodigree in the Peeridge, and was quite intimate with the Deuceace nameand estates. If Sattn himself were a lord, I do beleave there's manyvurtuous English mothers would be glad to have him for a son-in-law.
Now, though my master had thought fitt to leave town withoutexcommunicating with his father on the subject of his intendedcontinental tripe, as soon as he was settled at Balong he roat my LordCrabbs a letter, of which I happen to have a copy. It ran thus:--
"BOULOGNE, January 25.
"MY DEAR FATHER,--I have long, in the course of my legal studies, foundthe necessity of a knowledge of French, in which language all the earlyhistory of our profession is written, and have determined to take alittle relaxation from chamber reading, which has seriously injuredmy health. If my modest finances can bear a two months' journey, and aresidence at Paris, I propose to remain there that period.
"Will you have the kindness to send me a letter of introduction to LordBobtail, our ambassador? My name, and your old friendship with him, Iknow would secure me a reception at his house; but a pressing letterfrom yourself would at once be more courteous, and more effectual.
"May I also ask you for my last quarter's salary? I am not an expensiveman, my dear father, as you know; but we are no chameleons, and fiftypounds (with my little earnings in my profession) would vastly add tothe agremens of my continental excursion.
"Present my love to all my brothers and sisters. Ah! how I wish thehard portion of a younger son had not been mine, and that I could livewithout the dire necessity for labor, happy among the rural scenes of mychildhood, and in the society of my dear sisters and you! Heaven blessyou, dearest father, and all those beloved ones now dwelling under thedear old roof at Sizes.
"Ever your affectionate son,
"Algernon.
"THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF CRABS, &c.,
SIZES COURT, BUCKS."
To this affeckshnat letter his lordship replied, by return of poast, asfollos:--
"MY DEAR ALGERNON,--Your letter came safe to hand and I enclose you theletter for Lord Bobtail as you desire. He is a kind man, and has one ofthe best cooks in Europe.
"We were all charmed with your warm remembrances of us, not having seenyou for seven years. We cannot but be pleased at the family affectionwhich, in spite of time and absence, still clings so fondly to home. Itis a sad, selfish world, and very few who have entered it can afford tokeep those fresh feelings which you have, my dear son.
"May you long retain them, is a fond father's earnest prayer. Be sure,dear Algernon, that they will be through life your greatest comfort, aswell as your best worldly ally; consoling you in misfortune, cheeringyou in depression, aiding and inspiring you to exertion and success.
"I am sorry, truly sorry, that my account at Coutts's is so low,just now, as to render a payment of your allowance for the presentimpossible. I see by my book that I owe you now nine quarters, or 450L.Depend on it, my dear boy, that they shall be faithfully paid over toyou on the first opportunity.
"By the way, I have enclosed some extracts from the newspapers, whichmay interest you: and have received a very strange letter from a Mr.Blewitt, about a play transaction, which, I suppose, is the case alludedto in these prints. He says you won 4700L. from one Dawkins: that thelad paid it; that he, Blewitt, was to go what he calls 'snacks' in thewinning; but that you refused to share the booty. How can you, my dearboy, quarrel with these vulgar people, or lay yourself in any way opento their attacks? I have played myself a good deal, and there is no manliving who can accuse me of a doubtful act. You should either have shotthis Blewitt or paid him. Now, as the matter stands, it is too late todo the former; and, perhaps, it would be Quixotic to perform the latter.My dearest boy! recollect through life that YOU NEVER CAN AFFORD TO BEDISHONEST WITH A ROQUE. Four thousand seven hundred pounds was a greatcoup, to be sure.
"As you are now in such high feather, can you, dearest Algernon! lendme five hundred pounds? Upon my soul and honor, I will repay you. Yourbrothers and sisters send you their love. I need not add, that you havealways the blessings of your affectionate father,
"CRABS."
"P.S.--Make it 500, and I will give you my note-of-hand for a thousand."
. . . . . .
I needn't say that this did not QUITE enter into Deuceace's eyedears.Lend his father 500 pound, indeed! He'd as soon have lent him a box onthe year! In the fust place, he hadn seen old Crabs for seven years, asthat nobleman remarked in his epistol; in the secknd he hated him, andthey hated each other; and nex, if master had loved his father everso much, he loved somebody else better--his father's son, namely: andsooner than deprive that exlent young man of a penny, he'd have sean allthe fathers in the world hangin at Newgat, and all the "beloved ones,"as he called his sisters, the Lady Deuceacisses, so many convix atBottomy Bay.
The
newspaper parrografs showed that, however secret WE wished to keepthe play transaction, the public knew it now full well. Blewitt, as Ifound after, was the author of the libels which appeared right and left:
"GAMBLING IN HIGH LIFE--the HONORABLE Mr. D--c--ce again!--Thiscelebrated whist-player has turned his accomplishments to some profit.On Friday, the 16th January, he won five thousand pounds from a VERYyoung gentleman, Th-m-s Sm-th D-wk-ns, Esq., and lost two thousand fivehundred to R. Bl-w-tt, Esq., of the T-mple. Mr. D. very honorably paidthe sum lost by him to the honorable whist-player, but we have not heardthat, BEFORE HIS SUDDEN TRIP TO PARIS, Mr. D--uc--ce paid HIS losings toMr. Bl-w-tt."
Nex came a "Notice to Corryspondents:"
"Fair Play asks us, if we know of the gambling doings of the notoriousDeuceace? We answer, WE DO; and, in our very next Number, propose tomake some of them public."
. . . . . .
They didn't appear, however; but, on the contry, the very samenewspeper, which had been before so abusiff of Deuceace, was now loud inhis praise. It said:--
"A paragraph was inadvertently admitted into our paper of last week,most unjustly assailing the character of a gentleman of high birth andtalents, the son of the exemplary E-rl of Cr-bs. We repel, with scornand indignation, the dastardly falsehoods of the malignant slandererwho vilified Mr. De--ce-ce, and beg to offer that gentleman the onlyreparation in our power for having thus tampered with his unsulliedname. We disbelieve the RUFFIAN and HIS STORY, and most sincerelyregret that such a tale, or SUCH A WRITER, should ever have been broughtforward to the readers of this paper."
This was satisfactory, and no mistake: and much pleased we were at thedenial of this conshentious editor. So much pleased that master senthim a ten-pound noat, and his complymints. He'd sent another to the sameaddress, BEFORE this parrowgraff was printed; WHY, I can't think: for Iwoodn't suppose any thing musnary in a littery man.
Well, after this bisniss was concluded, the currier hired, the carridgesmartened a little, and me set up in my new livries, we bade ojew toBulong in the grandest state posbill. What a figure we cut! and, my i,what a figger the postillion cut! A cock-hat, a jackit made out of acow's skin (it was in cold weather), a pig-tale about 3 fit in length,and a pair of boots! Oh, sich a pare! A bishop might almost havepreached out of one, or a modrat-sized famly slep in it. Me and Mr.Schwigshhnaps, the currier, sate behind in the rumbill; master aloan inthe inside, as grand as a Turk, and rapt up in his fine fir-cloak. Offwe sett, bowing gracefly to the crowd; the harniss-bells jinglin, thegreat white hosses snortin, kickin, and squeelin, and the postiliumcracking his wip, as loud as if he'd been drivin her majesty the quean.
. . . . . .
Well, I shan't describe our voyitch. We passed sefral sitties,willitches, and metrappolishes; sleeping the fust night at Amiens,witch, as everyboddy knows, is famous ever since the year 1802 forwhat's called the Pease of Amiens. We had some, very good, done withsugar and brown sos, in the Amiens way. But after all the boasting aboutthem, I think I like our marrowphats better.
Speaking of wedgytables, another singler axdent happened here concarningthem. Master, who was brexfasting before going away, told me to go andget him his fur travling-shoes. I went and toald the waiter of theinn, who stared, grinned (as these chaps always do), said "Bong" (whichmeans, very well), and presently came back.
I'M BLEST IF HE DIDN'T BRING MASTER A PLATE OF CABBITCH! Would youbleave it, that now, in the nineteenth sentry, when they saythere's schoolmasters abroad, these stewpid French jackasses are soextonishingly ignorant as to call a CABBIDGE a SHOO! Never, never letit be said, after this, that these benighted, souperstitious, misrabbleSAVIDGES, are equill, in any respex, to the great Brittish people. Themoor I travvle, the moor I see of the world, and other natiums, I amproud of my own, and despise and deplore the retchid ignorance of therest of Yourup.
. . . . . .
My remarks on Parris you shall have by an early opportunity. Me andDeuceace played some curious pranx there, I can tell you.
MR. DEUCEACE AT PARIS.
The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush Page 6
