CHAPTER III
THE MASQUERADE
I commenced my duties in the music gallery on one of the nights devotedto the amusement called the Masquerade. It was an amusement new to meand to all except those who can afford to spend five guineas, besidesthe purchase of a dress, on the pleasure of a single night. I understandthe Masquerade has taken a great hold upon the fashionable world andupon those who have money to spend and are eager for the excitement of anew pleasure. 'Give--give' is the cry of those who live, day by day, forthe pleasure of the moment.
Truly in a Masquerade there is everything; the novelty or the beauty ofthe disguise: the music: the dancing: the revelry after supper: thegambling: the pursuit of beauty in disguise--it is wonderful to reflect,in the quiet corner of the earth in which I write, that, across theAtlantic, in London City, there are thousands who are never happy savewhen they are crowded together, seeking such excitement as is affordedby the masquerade, the assembly, the promenade and the pleasure garden.Here we have no such excitements and we want none: life for us flows ina tranquil stream: for them it flows away in waterfalls and cataracts,leaping to the sea.
Madame managed her masquerades as she did everything, with the greatestcare: she arranged everything: the selection of the music: thedecorations: the supper: even the chalking of the floor. The doors werethrown open at eleven. Long before that hour the Square was filled withpeople, some were come to see the fashionable throng arrive--the finedresses of the ladies and the masquerading of the men. Some were come topick the pockets of the others. There was no confusion: the hackneycoaches and the chairs were directed by Madame's servants, who stoodoutside, to arrive by one road and to depart by another. Thus, one afterthe other, without quarrelling or fighting, drove to the doors,deposited their company and departed. The same order was observed in thedeparture.
For my own part, as there was nothing to do before eleven, I amusedmyself by going round and seeing the rooms all lit up with candles insconces or by candelabra and painted with flowers and fruit and Cupidseven to the ceiling, and hung with costly curtains. It is a large andspacious house, of commanding appearance, built by an Earl of Carlisle.There is a grand staircase, broad and stately: when a well-dressedCompany are going up and down it looks like the staircase of a Palace:on the landing I found flowers in pots and bushes in tubs which gave theplace a rural appearance and so might lead the thoughts of the visitorinsensibly into the country. There are a great many rooms in theoriginal House which has been very handsomely increased by the additionof two large chambers, one above the other, built out at the back, overpart of the garden. One of these new rooms was the Ball Room which Ihave already mentioned. The other room below it, equally large but notso high, was used as the supper-room. It had its walls painted withdancing Satyrs and Fauns: gilded pilasters, raised an inch or so,relieved the flatness of the wall. This was the supper-room: for themoment it had nothing in it but long narrow tables arranged down theroom in rows: the servants were already beginning to spread upon themthe napery and lay the knives and forks for supper.
On the ground-floor on the right hand of the entrance hall was a largeroom used as a card room. Here stood a long table covered with a greencloth for the players of those games which require a Bank or a largecompany. They are Hazard, Lansquenet, Loo, Faro, and I know not how manymore. But, whatever their names, they all mean the same thing and onlyone thing, viz., gambling. Along the wall on either side were smalltables for parties of two or four, who came to play Quadrille, Whist,Piquet, Ecarte, and the like--games more dangerous to the young and thebeginner than the more noisy gambling of the crowd. Candles stood on allthe small tables and down the middle of the great table: there were alsocandles in sconces on the wall. As yet none of them were lit.
While I was looking round the empty room, Madame herself came in dressedin white satin, and carrying her domino in her hand.
'I look into every room,' she said, 'before the doors are open: but intothis room I look two or three times every evening.'
'You come to look at the players?'
'I have a particular reason for coming here. I will tell you some timeor other--perhaps to-night, Will. If so, it will be the greatestsurprise of your life--the very greatest surprise. Yes--I watch theplayers. Their faces amuse me. When I see a man losing time after time,and remaining calm and unmoved, I say to myself, "There is a gentleman."Play is the finest test of good breeding. When a man curses his luck;curses his neighbour for bringing him bad luck; bangs the table with hisfist; and calls upon all the Gods to smite him dead, I say to myself,"That is a city spark."'
'I fear I am a city spark.'
'When I see two sitting together at a table quiet and alone I ask myselfwhich is the sharper and which is the flat. By watching them for a fewminutes I can always find out--one of them always is the sharper, yousee, and the other always the flat. And if you watch them for a fewminutes you can always find out. Beware of this room, Will. Be neithersharper nor flat.'
She turned and went off to see some other room.
Looking out at the back I saw that the garden had been hung withcoloured lamps, and looked gay and bright. It was a warm fine evening:there would be many who would choose the garden for a promenade. Otherrooms there were: the Blue Room: the Star Room: the Red Room: theChinese Room: I know not what, nor for what they were all used.
But the time approached. I climbed up the steep stairs and took my placein the music gallery, where already most of the orchestra wereassembled: like them I tuned my violin, and then waited the arrival ofthe Company.
They came by tickets which included supper. Each ticket cost fiveguineas, and admitted one gentleman or two ladies including supper. Itseems a monstrous price for a single evening; but the cost of theentertainment was enormous. The ticket itself was a beautiful thingrepresenting Venus with Cupids. They were gazing with interest upon aNymph lying beside a fountain. She had, as yet, nothing upon her, andshe was apparently engaged in thinking what she would wear for theevening. A pretty thing, prettily drawn. But five guineas for a singleevening!
As soon as the doors were thrown open, a line of footmen received thecompany, took their tickets and showed them into the tea-room where thatrefreshment was offered before the ball commenced. When this room wasfull, the doors leading to the ball-rooms and the other rooms were alsothrown open, and the company streamed along the great gallery which waslined with flowering shrubs. Here was stationed a small string bandplaying soft and pleasing music. Then they crowded up the Grandstaircase. When most of the masqueraders were within the Ball-room, andbefore they had done looking about them and crying out for astonishmentat the mirrors and the candelabra and the lights, we struck up the musicin the gallery, and as soon as order was a little restored, the minuetsbegan.
For my own part I love to look upon dancing. The country-dance expressesthe happiness of youth and the gladness of life. The hey and jig arerustic joys which cannot keep still, but must needs jump about to showtheir pleasure. But the minuet expresses the refinement, the courtesies,the politeness of life. It is artificial, but the politeness of Fashionin the Civilized world must be acknowledged to be an improvement onmere Nature, which is too often barbarous in its expression and coarsein its treatment. I know not any of our music which could be played tosuch a dance of savages as the Guinea Traders report from the West Coastand the Bight of Benin.
The company flowed in fast. All, except a few who kept about the doorsand did not venture in the crowd, were in masquerade dress, and eventhose who were not carried dominoes in their hands. One would havethought the whole world had sent representatives to the ball. There werepig-tailed Chinese; Dervishes in turbans; American Indians withtomahawks; Arabs in long silken robes; negroes and negresses; proudCastilians; Scots in plaid; Monks and Romish Priests; Nuns and Sisters;milkmaids in dowlass; ploughboys in smocks; lawyers; soldiers andsailors: there were gods and goddesses; Venus came clad much like herfigure in the books; Diana carried her bow; the Graces endeavoured toappear as they ar
e commonly represented: Apollo came with his lyre; Marswith his shield and spear: Vulcan with his lame leg: Hercules with hisclub. There were dozens of Cupids: there were dozens of Queens;Cleopatra; Dido; Mary, Queen of Scots: and Queen Elizabeth. There werefamous kings as Henry the Fifth; Henry the Eighth: Charles the First;and Charles the Second. There were potentates, as the Pope, the Sultan,the Grand Cham, Prester John, and the Emperor of China: there werefamous women, mostly kings' favourites, as the Fair-Haired Editha: FairRosamund: Jane Shore, the most beautiful of London maidens: and merryNell Gwynne, once an Orange Girl: there were half a dozen ladiesrepresenting Joan of Arc in armour: there was a bear-ward leading a mandressed as a bear who made as if he would hug the women (at which theyscreamed in pretended affright) and danced to the music of a crowd:there were gipsies and fortune-tellers: there were two girls--nobodyknew who they were--one of whom danced on a tight-rope, while the otherturned somersaults. There were Harlequin, Columbine, Pantaloon andclown, as if straight from Drury Lane: there was the showman who put hisshow in a corner and loudly proclaimed the wonders that were within:there was the Cheap Jack in another corner, who pretended to selleverything: there was the itinerant Quack who bawled his nostrums forprolonging life and restoring youth and arresting beauty: there was theorange girl, of Drury Lane, impudent and ready with an answer and a joketo anything: there were dancing-girls who ran in and out, cleared aspace; danced: then ran to another place and danced again. I learned,afterwards, that the dancers and tumblers, with many of the masks, wereactors, actresses, and dancing-girls, hired from the Theatre by Madameherself, in order to ensure vivacity and activity and movement in theevening. If these things were neglected or left to the masquersthemselves, the assembly would fall quite flat, very few persons havingthe least power to play any part or keep up any character. Punchinello,for instance, trod the floor with a face like a physician for solemnity:the clown could not dance or laugh or make other people laugh: and sowith the women: they thought their part was played as soon as they weredressed.
Meantime, the music played on without stopping. After the minuets, weproceeded to the country dance. But you must not think that at theMasquerade we conducted our dancing with the same order and form as anordinary assembly. I looked down upon a scene which was quite unlike theordinary assembly, and yet was the most beautiful, the most animated,the most entrancing that I had ever witnessed. The room was like aflower-bed in July filled with flowers of every colour. It was enough,at first, to look at the whole company, as one might look upon a gardenfilled with flowers. Presently I began to detach couples or smallgroups. First, I observed the fair domino who lured on the amorousyouth--dressed, perhaps, as a monk--by running away and yet lookingback--a Parthian Amazon of Love. She must be young, he thought, withsuch a sprightly air and so easy a step: she must be beautiful, withsuch a figure, to match her face: she must be rich, with such ahabit--with those gold chains and bracelets and pearls. Presently theyoung fellow caught his goddess: he spoke to her and he led her to aseat among the plants where they could sit a little retired and apart.But from the gallery I could see them. He took her hand: he pressed her,saying I know not what: presently she took off her domino: and disclosedloveliness: the youth fell into raptures: she held him off: she put onher domino again: she rose: he begged for a little more discourse--itwas a pretty pantomime--she refused: she went back to the generalcompany: they remained together all the night: when they went away inthe morning he led her out whispering, and one hopes that this was thebeginning of a happy match. The removal of the domino to let thegentleman see the masked face was, I observed, very common, yet it wasnot always that the little comedy ended, as they say, happily. Sometimesthe lady, after showing her face, would run away and exchange akerchief, or a mantle, with a friend so as to mystify and bewilder herpursuer who could not tell what had become of his lovely partner.
Such were the little comedies performed before the eyes of thespectators from the music gallery. As for the rest, the mountebankspranced, and the dancing-girls and the tumbling-girls capered, and theyall laughed and sang and gave themselves wholly to the mirth andmerriment of the moment.
Some of the men I observed were drunk when they arrived: otherspretended to be drunk in order that they might roll about and catch holdof the girls. It has always been to me a marvel that women do not marktheir displeasure, at the intrusion upon their pleasures, of men who aredrunk. They mar all the enjoyment of society whether at the theatre, orat such assemblies as this, or in the drawing-room. Ladies of fashionhave it in their power to put an end to the habit at a stroke of thepen, so to speak: namely, by forbidding the presence at their assembliesof gentlemen in liquor: they should be refused admission however greattheir position, even if their breast is ablaze with stars.
There were many stars present, and with them ladies whose head-dresseswere covered with diamonds. It was rumoured that Madame retained in herservice for these occasions, a body of stout fellows on the watch forany attempt upon the jewels. It was also rumoured that there were R--lP--s present at the Masquerade: the young D-- of Y--k, for instance, itwas said positively, was among the company, but so disguised that nonecould recognise him. Some of the ladies wore no dominoes; but thesepersons, I observed, did not leave their partners and took no share inthe merriment. Indeed, they seemed, for the most part, not to laugh atthe fun: I suppose they found it somewhat low and vulgar. In our gallerythey were well known. 'That is the Duchess of Q-- with the rubies: thelady with the diamond spray in her hair is Lady H--: the lady with thestrings of pearls round her neck and arms is the Lady Florence D--,' andso forth--with scandalous stories and gossip which belonged, I thought,more to the footmen in the hall than to the music gallery. We had nosuch talk at the Dog and Duck. Perhaps, however, the reason for ourreticence in that favourite retreat and rendezvous of the aristocracywas that there were no women at the Dog and Duck whose lives were notscandalous. The stories, therefore, would become monotonous.
At one, a procession was formed for supper. There was no order or rankobserved because there were plenty of persons who masqueraded asnoblemen, and it would take too long to examine into their claims. Thesmall band of stringed instruments, of which I have spoken, headed theprocession, played the company into the supper-room, and played whilethey were taking supper. There was not room for more than half in thesupper-room: the rest waited their turn.
'It is a rest for us,' said the First violin, 'we shall get some supperdownstairs. Eat and drink plenty, for what we have done already is aflea-bite compared with what we have to do.'
It was, indeed. They came back, their cheeks flushed, their eyes brightwith wine. Some of them too tipsy to stand, rolled upon the rout seats,and so fell fast asleep.
I observed that the great ladies and the gentlemen with them did notreturn after supper: their absence removed some restraint: and thegentlemen who had arrived without a masquerade dress did not come backafter supper. The company was thinner, but it was much louder: there wasno longer any pretence of keeping up a character: the Quack left offbawling his wares: the showman deserted his show: the fortune-tellersleft their tents: the Hermit left his cell: the dancing and tumblinggirls joined in the general throng: there were many sets formed butlittle regular dancing: all were broken up by rushes of young men morethan half drunk: they caught the girls and kissed them--nothing loth,though they shrieked: it was a proof that the gentlewomen had all gone,that no one resented this rudeness--either a partner or the girlherself: the scene became an orgy: all together were romping, touzling,laughing, shrieking, and quarrelling.
Still the music kept up: still we played with unflinching arm and allthe spirit which can be put into them, the most stirring dance tunes. Atlast they left off trying to dance: some of the women lay back on therout seats partly with liquor overcome and partly with fatigue: men weresprawling unable to get up: bottles of wine were brought up from thesupper-room and handed round. The men grew every minute noisier: thewomen shrieked louder and more shrilly--perhaps with cause. And e
veryminute some slipped away and the crowd grew thinner, till there wereleft little more than a heap of drunken men and weary women.
At last word came up that it was five o'clock, the time for closing.
The conductor laid down his violin: the night's work was over: we wouldgo.
The people below clamoured for more music, but in vain. Then they, too,began to stream out noisily.
As I passed the supper-room I saw that half a dozen young fellows hadgot in and were noisily clamouring for champagne. The waiters who wereclearing the supper took no notice. Then one of them with a bludgeon setto work and began to smash plates, glasses, dishes, bottles, windows, ina kind of a frenzy of madness or mischief. Half a dozen stout fellowsrushed at him: carried him out of the supper-room and so into the Squareoutside. It was a fitting end for the Masquerade.
While I was looking on, I was touched on the arm by a mask. I knew herby her white satin dress for Madame.
I had seen her from time to time flitting about the room, sometimes witha partner, sometimes alone. She was conversing one moment with agentleman whose star betokened his rank, and the next with one of herpaid actors or actresses, directing the sports. I had seen her dancingtwo minuets in succession each with a grace and dignity which no otherwoman in the room could equal.
'A noisy end, Will, is it not? We always finish this way. The youngfellow who smashed the glass is Lord St. Osyth. To-morrow morning hewill have to pay the bill. 'Tis a good-natured fool. See: they arecarrying out the last of the drunken hogs. Faugh! How drunk they are!'
'I have watched you all the evening, Madame. Believe me, there were noneof the ladies who approached you in the minuet.'
'Naturally, Will. For I have danced it on the stage, where we can atleast surpass the minuet of the Assembly. What do they understand ofaction and carriage, and how to bear the body and how to use the armsand how to handle the fan? But it was not to talk about mydancing--Will--I said that perhaps I should be able to show yousomething or to tell you something--that might astonish you. Come withme: but first--I would not have you recognised, put on thisdomino'--there were a good many lying about--'So--Now follow me andprepare for the greatest surprise of your whole life.'
In the hall there were still many waiting for their carriages andchairs. Outside, there was a crowd now closing in upon the carriages,and now beaten back by Madame's men who were armed with clubs and keptthe pickpockets and thieves at bay. And there was a good deal ofbawling, cursing, and noise.
Madame led the way into the card-room. Play had apparently been going onall night: the candles on the table were burning low: the players hadnearly all gone: the servants were taking the shillings from under thecandlesticks: at the long table, two or three were still left: they werenot playing: they were settling up their accounts.
A young fellow got up as we came in. 'What's the good of crying, Harry?'he said, to his companion. 'I've dropped five hundred. Well--better luckto-morrow.'
'Poor lad!' said Madame. 'That morrow will never come. 'Tis a prettylad: I am sorry for him. He will end in a Debtors' Prison or he willcarry a musket in the ranks.'
They were settling, one by one, with the player who had held the Bankfor the evening. There were no disputes: they had some system by meansof which their loses or gains were represented by counters. The businessof the conclusion was the paying or receiving of money as shown by theircounters which were accepted as money. For instance, if a person took somany counters he incurred so much liability. But, I do not understandwhat were the rules. The man who held the Bank was, I heard afterwards,one of those who live by keeping the Bank against all comers. He was anelderly man of fine manners, extremely courtly in his behaviour and hisdress. One by one he received the players, of whom there were a dozen orso, and examined their liabilities or their claims. There was left butone of the players, a man whose back was turned to me.
'Sir,' he said politely, 'I am grieved indeed to keep a gentlemanwaiting so long. Let me now release you. I hope, Sir, that the balancewill prove in your favour. It pleases me, believe me, that a gentlemanshould leave my table the winner. So, Sir, thank you. I perceive, Sir,that your good fortune has deserted you for this evening. I trust it isbut a temporary cloud. After all it is a trifle--a bagatelle--a merematter of one hundred and fifty-five guineas--one hundred andfifty-five. Your Honour is not, perhaps, good at figures, but, shouldyou choose to verify----'
The other man whose back and shoulders were still the only part of himpresented to my view, snatched the paper and looked at it and threw iton the table.
'It is right, Sir?'
'I suppose it is right. The luck was against me, as usual; the lucknever is for me.'
I knew the voice and started.
Madame whispered in my ear softly. 'The greatest surprise of your life.'
'One hundred and fifty-five guineas,' said the gentleman who kept theBank. 'If you are not able to discharge the liability to-night, Sir, Ishall be pleased to wait upon you to-morrow.'
'No! No! I can pay my way still--pay my way,' He pulled out a long pursefilled with guineas.
'Your luck will certainly turn, Sir, before long. Why I have seeninstances----'
'Damn it, Sir, leave me and my affairs alone. My luck never will turn.Don't I know my own affairs?'
The voice could be none other than my cousin Matthew's. I was startled.My head which had been filled with the noise of the music and theexcitement of the revelry became clear at once and attentive andserious. My cousin Matthew. Impossible not to know that voice!
He poured out the guineas on the table and began to count them, dividingthem into heaps of ten. Then he counted them over again, very slowly,and, at last, with greatest reluctance passed them over to the otherplayer, who in his turn counted them over, taking up the pieces andbiting them in order to see if they were good.
'I thank you, Sir,' he said, gravely. 'I trust that on a futureoccasion----'
Matthew waved his hand impatiently. The other turned and walked downthe room. The candles were mostly out by this time; only two or threewere left on the point of expiring: the room was in a kind of twilight.Matthew turned his head--it _was_ my cousin: he seemed not to see us: hesank into a chair and laid his head in his hands groaning.
No one was left in the room except Madame, Matthew and myself.
Madame stepped forward: the table was between her and my cousin. As forme I kept in the background watching and listening. What might thisthing mean? Matthew, the sober, upright, religious London citizen!Matthew the worthy descendant of the great Puritan preacher! Matthew thedenouncer of wicked musicians! Matthew the scourge of frivolity andvice! Matthew, my supplanter! Matthew in a gaming room! Matthew playingall night long and losing a hundred and fifty-five guineas in a singlenight! What was one to believe next?
Jenny bent over the table: she still kept on her domino.
'Mr. Matthew Halliday,' she said.
He lifted his head, stupidly.
'I congratulate you, Mr. Matthew Halliday,' she went on. 'You havepassed a most pleasant and profitable evening. A hundred and fifty-fiveguineas! It is nothing, of course, to a rich merchant like yourself.'
'Who are you?' he asked. 'What concern is it of yours?'
'I am one who knows you. One who knows you already, and too well.'
He stood up. 'I am going, Mistress,' he said--'unless you have somethingelse to say.'
'Mr. Halliday--you lost two hundred guineas last night, and on Sundayyou lost four hundred.'
'Zounds, Miss or Mistress, how do you know?'
'I know because I am told. You are a very rich man, Mr. Halliday, areyou not? You must be to lose so much every night. You must be very richindeed. You have whole fleets of your own, and Quays and Warehousesfilled with goods--and you inherited a great fortune only two yearsago.'
He sank back in a chair and gazed stupidly upon her. 'How speeds yournoble trade? How fares it with your fleets? How much is left of yourgreat fortune?' He growled, but made no reply. Curiosity and w
onderseized him and held him. Besides, what reply could he make?
'Who are you?' he asked.
'I will tell you, perhaps. How do you stand with Mr. Probus?'
He sprang to his feet again. 'This is too much. How dare you speak of myprivate affairs? What do you know about Mr. Probus?'
'How long is it, Mr. Halliday, since you agreed with Mr. Probus thatyour cousin should be locked up in a Debtors' Prison there to remaintill he died, or sold his birthright?'
He answered with a kind of roar, as if he had no words left. He stoodbefore her--the table between--half in terror--half in rage. Who wasthis woman? Besides, he was already very nearly beside himself over thelong continuance of his bad luck.
'Who are you?' he asked again. 'What do you know about my cousin?'
'I will tell you, directly, who I am. About your cousin, Matthew, I warnyou solemnly. The next attempt you make upon his life and liberty willbring upon your head--yours--not to speak of the others--the greatestdisaster that you can imagine, or can dread. The greatest disaster,' sherepeated solemnly, 'that you can imagine or can dread.' She looked likea Prophetess, standing before him with hand raised and with solemnvoice.
'This is fooling. What do you know? Who are you?'
'I cannot tell what kind of disaster it will be--the greatest--the worstpossible--it will be. Be warned. Keep Mr. Probus at arm's length or hewill ruin you--he will ruin you, unless he has ruined you already.'
'You cannot frighten me with bugaboo stories. If you will not tell mewho you are. I shall go.'
She tore off her glove. 'Does this hand,' she said, 'remind you ofnothing?'
On the third finger of the white hand was a wedding-ring which I hadnever seen there before.
He stared at the hand. Perhaps he suspected. I think he did. No one whohad once seen that hand could possibly forget it.
She tore off her domino. 'You have doubtless forgotten, Matthew, by thistime, the face--of your wife.'
He cursed her. He stood up and cursed her in round terms. I don't knowwhy. He accused her of nothing. But he cursed her. She was the originand cause of his bad luck.
I would have interfered. 'Let be--let be,' she said. 'The time willsurely come when the ruin which I have foretold will fall upon him. Letus wait till then. That will be sufficient punishment for him. I see itcoming--I know not when. I see it coming. Let him curse.'
He desisted. He ran out of the room without another word.
She looked after him with a deep sigh.
'I told you, Will, that I had a surprise for you--the greatest surpriseof your life. I will tell you more to-morrow if you will come in theafternoon. You shall hear more about Matthew, my husband Matthew. Getyou gone now and home to bed with all the speed you may. Good-night,cousin Will--cousin Will.'
I left her as I was bidden. I walked home through the deserted streetsof early morning. My brain was burning. Matthew the gambler! Matthew thehusband of Jenny! Matthew the gambler. Why--everything shouted the wordas I passed: the narrow streets of Soho: the water lapping the arches ofWestminster Bridge: the keen air blowing over the Bank; all shouted thewords--'Matthew the gambler! Matthew the husband of Jenny! Matthew thegambler!' And when I lay down to sleep the words that rang in my earwere 'Matthew my husband--Cousin Will!--Cousin Will!'
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