The English Spy - Part 55
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Part 55

Count. I am still of opinion that the spirit of national courage is much promoted--------

Optimus. Spirit of a fiddle-stick! Nonsense, man; that card will win no trick now. You, like others might have thought so once; but you have seen enough by this time to know that the system is on altogether a different tack; that its stanchest upholders and admirers are bullies, sharpers, pickpockets, pothouse keepers, coachmen, fradulent bankrupts, the Jon Bee's and big B's, and all the lowest B's of society in station and character, whose only merit, if such it can be called, is the open disclaiming of any thing like honour or principle. And after having been a patron of such a set of wretches, you will end by becoming, according to circ.u.mstances, the object of their vulgar abuse, or the b.u.t.t of their coa.r.s.e ridicule.

"The latter, I understand,"said Lord William, "is pretty much the case already. A friend of mine was telling me, that one of the precious brotherhood, on hearing that Joe meant to dispute his bets, asked what better could be expected from a Foote-mam out of place?"

"No more of that, Hal, if thou lovest him," exclaimed Optimus, who immediately perceived, by his ~205~~countenance, that the last hit had been too hard. Much more has been said upon this affair than it is worth. Let us change the subject.

"By my conscience," exclaimed the lieutenant, "and here's an excellent episode to wind up the drama with, headed, 'The Foote Ball's farewell to the Ring:' I'll read it you, with permission, and afterwards, colonel, you shall have a copy of it for next Sunday's 'Age;' it will save the magnanimous little B., your accommodating editor, or his loc.u.m tenens, the fat Gent, the trouble of straining their own weak noddles to produce any more soft attempts at the scandalous and the sarcastic.

"By the honour of my ancestry," rejoined the Gloucestershire colonel, "do you take me for a reporter to the paper in question?"

"Why not?" said the lieutenant, coolly: "if you are not a reporter and a supporter too, my gallant friend, by the powers of Poll Kelly but you are the most ill-used man in his majesty's dominions!"

"Sir, I stand upon my honour," said the colonel, petulantly.

"By the powers, you may, and very easily too," whispered O'Farellan, in a side speech to his left hand companion; "for it has been trodden under Foote by others these many months. To be plain with you, colonel, there are certain big whispers abroad, that you and your n.o.ble a.s.sociate, the amiable yonder, with that beautiful obliquity of vision, which is said to have pierced the heart of a northern syren, are the joint Telegraphs of the Age. Sure no man in his senses can suspect Messieurs the Conducteurs of knowing any thing of what pa.s.ses in polished life, or think--

"Ah, my dear Wewitzer," said Belle Harriet, now Mrs. Goutts, speaking to the late comedian, of some female friend, "she has an eye! an eye, that would pierce through a deal board." "By heavens," said Wewitzer, "that must be then a gimhlet eye." ~206~~of charging them with any personal knowledge of the amusing incidents they pretend to relate, beyond a certain little wanton's green room _on dits_, or the chaste conversations of the blushless naiads who sport and frolic in the Cytherian mysteries which are nightly performed in the dark groves of Vauxhall. Take a word of advice from an old soldier, colonel: It is worse than leading a forlorn hope to attempt to storm a garrison single handed; club secrets must be protected by club laws, for 'tis an old Eton maxim, that tales told out of school generally bring the relater to the block. But my friend Stanhope will no doubt explain this matter with a much better grace when he comes in contact with the tale-bearer."

"Hem," instinctively e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Horace C-----t, the once elegant Apollo of Hyde Park, "thereby hangs a tale; 'tis a vile Age, and the sooner we forget it, the better--I am for love and peace." "i.e. a piece"

responded the lieutenant. Horace smiled, and continued, "Come, Tom Duncombe, I'll give our mutual favourite, the female Giovanni. Lads, fill your gla.s.ses; we toast a deity, and one, too, who has equal claims upon most of us for the everlasting favours she has conferred."

"'Fore Gad, lieutenant," simpered out Lord William, squaring himself round to resume the conversation with the veteran, "if you do not mind your hits, we must positively cut. My friend, the colonel, will certainly set his blacks{5} upon you, and I shall be obliged to speak to little magnanimous, the ex-Brummagem director, to strike off a counterfeit impression of you in his scandalous Sunday chronicle, 'pon honour, I must."

5 A very curious tradition is connected with a certain castle near Gloucester, which foretells, that the family name shall be extinct when the race of the blacks* cease to be peculiar to the family; a prophecy that I think not very likely to be fulfilled, judging by the conduct of the present race of representatives.

* A species of Danish blood-hound, whose portraits and names are carved in the oaken cornice of one of the castle chambers.

~207~~"The divil a care," said the lieutenant, laughingly; "to arms with you, my lord William; my fire engine will soon damp the ardour of little magnanimous, and an extra dose of Tom Bish's compounds put his friend, the fat Gent, where his readers have long been, in sweet somniferous repose. But zounds, gentlemen, I am forgetting the count, whose pardon I crave, for bestowing my attention on minor constellations while indulged with the overpowering brilliancy of his meteoric presence."

"The 'Farewell to the Ring,'" vociferated the count. "Come, lieutenant, give us the episode: I long to hear all my misfortunes strung together in rhyme."

"By the powers, you shall have it, then; and a true history it is, as ever was said or sung in church, chapel, or conventicle, with only one little exception--by the free use of poetic license, the satirist has fixed his hero in a very embarra.s.sing situation--just locked him up at Radford's steel Hotel in Carey Street, Chancery Lane, coning over a long bill of John Long's, and a still longer one of the lawyers, with a sort of codicil, by way of refresher, of the house charges, and a smoking detainer tacked on to its tail, by Hookah Hudson, long enough to put any gentleman's pipe out.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page207]

There's the argument, programme, or fable. Now for the characters; they are all drawn from the life by the English Spy (see plate), under the amusing t.i.tle of 'Morning, and in Low Spirits, a scene in a Lock-up House;' a very appropriate spot for a lament to the past, and

"'Tis past, and the sun of my glory is set.

How changed in my case is the fortune of war!

With no money to back, and no credit to bet, No more in the Fancy I shine forth a star.

~208~~

"Accursed be the day when my bargeman I brought To fight with Jos. Hudson!--the thought is a sting.

I sighing exclaim, by experience taught, Farewell to Tom Cannon, farewell to the ring!

"By the Blackwater vict'ry made drunk with success, Endless visions of milling enchanted my n.o.b; I thought my luck in: so I could do no less Than match 'gainst the Streatham my White-headed Bob.

"I've some reason to think that there, too, I was done; For it oft has been hinted that battle was cross'd: But I well know that all which at Yately I won, With a thousand _en outre_ at Bagshot I lost.

"At Warwick a turn in my favour again Appear'd, and my crest I anew rear'd with pride; Hudson's efforts to conquer my bargeman were vain, I took the _long odds_, and I floor'd _the flash side_.

"But with training, and treating, and sparring, and paying For all through the nose, as most do in beginning Their fancy career, I am borne out in saying, I was quite out of pocket in spite of my winning.

"So when Bob fought old George, being shortish of money, And bearing in mem'ry the Bagshot affair, In my former pal's stakes I stood only _a pony_, (Which was never return'd, so I'm done again there).

"To be perfectly safe, on the old one I betted; For the knowing ones told me the thing was made right: If it had been, a good bit of blunt I'd have netted; But a double X spoilt it, and Bob won the fight.

~209~~

"But the famed stage of Warwick, and Ward, were before me-- I look'd at Tom Cannon, and thought of the past; I was sure he must win, and that wealth would show'r o'er me, So, like Richard, I set all my hopes on a cast;

"And the die was soon thrown, and my luck did not alter-- I was floor'd at all points, and my hopes were a hum; I'm at Tattersall's all but believed a defaulter, And here, in a spunging house, shut by a b.u.m.

"'Mid the lads of the fancy I needs must aspire To be quite _au fait_; and I have scarcely seen Of mills half a score, ere I'm fore'd to retire-- O thou greenest among all the green ones, Pea Green!

"And what have I gain'd, but the queer reputation Of a whimsical dandy, half foolish, half flash?

To bruisers and sharpers, in high and low station, A poor easy dupe, till deprived of my cash.

"All you who would enter the circle I've quitted, Reflect on my fate, and think what you're about: By brib'ry betray'd, or by cunning outwitted, In the Fancy each novice is quickly clean'd out.

"For me it has lost its attractions and l.u.s.tre; The thing's done with me, and I've done with the thing: The blunt for my bets I must manage to muster, Then farewell to Tom Cannon, farewell to the ring!"

The reading of this morceau produced, as might have been expected, considerable merriment on the ~210~~one hand, and some little discussion upon the other; the angry feelings of the commander in chief and his pals overbalancing the mirthful by their solemnly protesting against the exposure of the secrets of the prison house, which, in this instance, they contended, were violently distorted by some enemy to the modern accomplishment of pugilism. In a few moments all was chaos, and the stormy confusion of tongues, prophetk: of the affair ending in a grand display and milling catastrophe; the apprehensions of which induced John Long, and John Long's man, to be on the alert in removing the service, _en suite_, of superb cut gla.s.s, which had given an additional l.u.s.tre to the splendour of the dessert. The arrival of other characters, and the good humour of the count, joined to a plentiful supply of soda water and iced punch, had, however, the effect of cooling the malcontents, who had no sooner recovered their wonted hilarity, than old Crony proceeded to particularize, by a comparison of the past with the present, interspersing his remarks with anecdotes of the surrounding group.

"These are your modern men of fashion," said Crony; "and the specimen you have this day had of their conduct and pursuits an authority you may safely quote as one generally characteristic.

'To support this new fashion in circles of _ton_. New habits, new thoughts, must of course be put on; Taste, feeling, and friendship, laid by on the shelf, And nothing or worshipp'd, or thought of, but--self.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: page210]

"It was not thus in the days of our ancestors: the farther we look back, the purer honour was. In the days of chivalry, a love promise was a law; the braver the knight, the truer in love: then, too, religion, delicacy, sentiment, romantic pa.s.sion, disinterested friendship, loyalty to king, love of country, a thirst for fame, bravery, nay, heroism, characterized ~211~~the age, the nation, the n.o.ble, the knight, and esquire. Mercy!

what 'squires we have now-a-days! At a more recent date, all was courtliness, feeling, high sentiment, proud and lofty bearing, principle, the word inviolable, politeness at its highest pitch of refinement: lovers perished to defend their ladies' honour; now they live to sully it: the n.o.bility and the people were distinct in dress and address; but, above all, amenity and good-breeding marked the distinction, and the line was unbroken. Now, dress is all confusion, address far below par, amenity is a dead letter, and as to breeding, it is confined to the breeding of horses and dogs, except when law steps in to encourage the breeding of disputes; not to mention the evils arising from crossing the old breed; nor can we much wonder at it, when we reflect on the altered way of life, the change of habits, and the declension of virtue, arising from these very causes.

'Each hopeful hero now essays to start To spoil the intellect, destroy the heart, To render useless all kind Nature gave, And live the dupe of ev'ry well dress'd knave; To herd with gamblers, be a blackleg king, And shine the monarch of the betting ring.'

"Men of family and fashion, in those golden days, pa.s.sed their time in courts, in dancing-rooms, and at clubs composed of the very cream of birth and elegance. You heard occasionally of Lord Such-a-one being killed in a duel, or of the baronet or esquire dying from cold caught at a splendid _fete_, or by going lightly clad to his magnificent vis-a-vis, after a select masquerade; but you never read his death in a newspaper from a catarrh caught in the watch-house, from & fistic fight, or in a row at a h.e.l.l--things now not astonishing, since even men with a t.i.tle and a name of rank pa.s.s their time in the stable, at common h.e.l.ls, at the Fives-court--the hall of infamy; in the watch-house, the justice-room, and make the finish in ~212~~the Fleet, King's Bench, or die in misery and debt abroad. In the olden times, a star of fashion was quoted for dancing at court, for the splendour of his equipages, his running footmen and black servants, his expensive dress, his accomplishments, his celebrity at foreign courts, his fine form, delicate hand, jewels, library, &c. &c. Now fame (for notoriety is so called) may be obtained by being a Greek, or Pigeon, by being mistaken for John the coachman, when on the box behind four t.i.ts; by being a good gentleman miller, by feeding the fancy, standing in print for crim.

con., breaking a promise of marriage once or twice, and breaking as many tradesmen as possible afterwards; breaking the watchman's head on the top of the morn; and lastly, breaking away (in the skirmish through life) for Calais, or the Low Countries. There is as much difference between the old English gentleman and him who ought to be the modern representative of that name, as there is between a racer and a hack, a fine spaniel and a cross of the terrier and bull dog. In our days of polish and refinement, we had a Lord Stair, a Sedley, a Sir John Stepney, a Sir William Hamilton, and many others, as our amba.s.sadors, representing our nation as the best bred in the world; and by their grace and amiability, gaining the admiration of the whole continent.

We had, in remoter times, our Lords Bolingbroke, Chesterfield, and Lyttleton, our Steele, &c, the celebrated poets, authors, and patterns of fashion and elegance of the age. We had our Argyle,

'The state's whole thunder form'd to wield, And shake at once the senate and the field.'

We had our virtuosi of the highest rank, our rich and n.o.ble authors in abundance. The departed Byron stood alone to fill their place. The cla.s.sics were cultivated, not by the learned profession only, but by the votaries of fashion. Now, our Greek scholars are of ~213~~another cast.{6} In earlier days the chivalrous foe met his opponent in open combat, and broke a lance for the amus.e.m.e.nt of the spectators, while he revenged his injuries in public. Now, the practice of duelling{7} has become almost a profession, and the privacy with which it is of necessity conducted renders it always subject to suspicion (see plate); independent of which, the source of quarrel is too often beneath the dignity of gentlemen, and the wanton sacrifice of life rather an act of bravado than of true courage.{7}

6 "Adeipe nunc Danaum insidiai, et----ab uno, Disce omnes!"

The Greek population of the fashionable world comprises a very large portion of society, including among its members names and persons of ill.u.s.trious and n.o.ble t.i.tle, whose whole life and pleasure in life appears to "rest upon the hazard of a die." The modern Greek, though he cannot boast much resemblance to Achilles, Ajax, Patroclus, or Nestor, is, nevertheless, a close imitator of the equally renowned chief of Ithaca. To describe his person, habits, pursuits, and manners, would be to sketch the portrait of one or more _finished roues_, who are to be found in most genteel societies. The mysteries of his art are manifold, and princ.i.p.ally consist in the following rules and regulations, put forth by an old member of the corps, whose conscience returned to torture him when his reign of earthly vice was near its close.