ELEMENTS OF GREEKING. 1. A Greek should be like a mole, visible only at night. 2. He should be a n.i.g.g.ard of his speech, and a profligate with his liquor, giving freely, but taking cautiously. 3. He must always deprecate play in public, and pretend an entire ignorance of his game. 4. He must be subtle as the fox, and vary as the well-trained hawk; never showing chase too soon, or losing his pigeon by an over eager desire to pluck him. 5. He must be content to lose a little at first, that he may thereby make a final hit decisive. 6. He must practise like a conjuror in private, that his slippery tricks in public may escape observation.

Palming the _digits_ requires no ordinary degree of agility.

7. He must secure a confederate, who having been pigeoned, has since been enlightened, and will consent to decoy others to the net. 8. He should have once held the rank of captain, as an introduction to good society, and a privilege to bully any one who may question his conduct. 9. He must always put on the show of generosity with those he has plucked--that is, while their bill, bond, post obit, or other legal security is worth having.

~214~~

10. He should be a prince of good fellows at his own table, have the choicest wines for particular companies, and when a grand hit cannot be made, refuse to permit play in his own house; or on a decisive occasion, let his decoy or partner pluck the pigeon, while he appears to lose to some confederate a much larger sum.

11. He must not be afraid to fight a duel, mill & rumbustical green one, or bully a brother sharper who attempts to poach upon his preserves.

12. He must concert certain signals with confederates for _working the broads_ (i.e. cards), such as fingers at whist: toe to toe for an ace, or the left hand to the eye for a king, and so on, until he can make the fate of a rubber certain. On this point he must be well instructed in the arts of _marked cards, briefs, broads, corner bends, middle ditto, curves, or Kingston Bridge_, and other arch tricks of _slipping, palming, forcing_, or even _subst.i.tuting_, whatever card may be necessary to win the game. Such are a few of the elements of modern Greeking, contained in the twelve golden rules recorded above, early attention to which may save the inexperienced from ruin.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page214]

7 ELEMENTS OF DUELLING.

"The British Code of Duel," a little work professing to give the necessary instructions for _man-killing according to honour_, lays down the following rules as indispensable for the practice of princ.i.p.als and seconds in the pleasant and humane amus.e.m.e.nt of shooting at each other. "1. To choose out a snug sequestered spot, where the ground is level, and no natural, terrestrial, or celestial line presenting itself to a.s.sist either party in his views of sending his opponent into eternity. 2. To examine the pistols; see that they are alike in quality and length, and load in presence of each other. 3. To measure the distance; ten paces of not less than thirty inches being the minimum, the parties to step to it, not from it. 4. To fire by signal and at random; it being considered unfair to take aim at the man whose life you go out to take. 5. Not to deliver the pistols c.o.c.ked, lest they should go off un-expectedly; and after one fire the second should use his endeavours to produce a reconciliation. 6. If your opponent fire in the air, it is very unusual, and must be a case of extreme anguish when you are obliged to insist upon another shot at him. 7. Three fires must be the ultimatum in any case; any more reduces duel to a conflict for blood," says the code writer; "if the parties can afford it, there should be two surgeons in attendance, but if economical, one mutual friend will suffice; the person receiving the first fire, in case of wound, taking the first dressing. 8. It being always understood that wife, children, parents, and relations are no impediment with men of very different relative stations in society to their meeting on equal terms." The _consistency, morality, justice, and humanity of this code, I leave to the gratifying reflection of those who have most honourably killed their man_.

~215~~

'For, as duelling now is completely a science, And sets, the Old Bailey itself at defiance; Now Hibernians are met with in every street, 'Tis as needful to know how to shoot as to eat.'

The following singular challenge is contained in a letter from Sir William Herbert, of St. Julian's, in Monmouthshire, father-in-law to the famous Lord Herbert, of Cherbury, to a gentleman of the name of Morgan. The original is in the British Museum.

"Sir--Peruse this letter, in G.o.d's name. Be not disquieted.

I reverence your h.o.a.ry hair. Although in your son I find too much folly and lewdness, yet in you I expect gravity and wisdom.

"It hath pleased your son, late at Bristol, to deliver a challenge to a man of mine, on the behalf of a gentleman (as he said) as good as myself; who he was, he named not, neither do I know; but if he be as good as myself, it must either be for virtue, for birth, for ability, or for calling and dignity. For virtue I think he meant not, for it is a thing which exceeds his judgment: if for birth, he must be the heir male of an earl, the heir in blood of ten earls; for, in testimony thereof, I bear their several coats.

Besides, he must be of the blood royal, for by my grandmother Devereux I am lineally and legitimately descended out of the body of Edward IV. If for ability he must have a thousand pounds a year in possession, a thousand pounds more in expectation, and must have some thousands in substance besides. If for calling and dignity, he must be knight or lord of several seignories in several kingdoms, a lieutenant of his county, and a counsellor of a province.

"Now to lay all circ.u.mstances aside, be it known to your son, or to any man else, that if there be any one who beareth the name of gentleman, and whose words are of reputation in his county, that doth say, or dare say, that I have done unjustly, spoken an untruth, stained my credit and reputation in this matter, or in any matter else, wherein your son is exasperated, I say he lieth in his throat, and my sword shall maintain my word upon him, in any place or province, wheresoever he dare, and where I stand not sworn to observe the peace. But if they be such as are within my governance, and over whom I have authority, I will for their re-formation chastise them with justice, and for their malaport misdemeanour bind them to their good behaviour. Of this sort, I account your son, and his like; against whom I will shortly issue my warrant, if this my warning doth not reform them. And so I thought fit to advertise you hereof, and leave you to G.o.d.

"I am, &c.

"WM. HERBERT."

~216~~"The art of fencing formerly distinguished the gentleman, who then wore a sword as a part of his dress. He is now contented with a regular stand-up fight, and exhibits a fist like a knuckle-bone of mutton--hard, coa.r.s.e, and of certain magnitude. The bludgeon hammer-headed whip, or a vulgar twig, succeeds the clouded and amber-headed cane; and instead of the snuff-box being rare, and an article of parade, to exhibit a beauty's miniature bestowed in love, or that of a crowned head, given for military or diplomatic services, all ranks take snuff out of cheap and vulgar boxes, mostly of inferior French manufacture, with, not unfrequently, indecent representations on them; or you have wooden concerns with stage coaches, fighting-c.o.c.ks, a pugilistic combat, or an ill-drawn neck and neck race upon them. The frill of the n.o.bleman and gentleman's linen once bore jewels of high price, or a conceit, like a noted beauty's eye, set in brilliants less sparkling than what formed the centre. Now, a fox, a stag, or a dog, worthily occupies the place of that enchanting resemblance. In equitation, we had Sir Sydney Meadows, a pattern and a prototype for gentlemen hors.e.m.e.n. The Melton hunt now is more in vogue, and the sons of our n.o.bility ride like their own grooms and postboys--ay, and dress like them too. Autrefois, a man of fashion might be perceived ere he was seen, from a reunion ~217~~of rich and costly perfumes. Now, snuff and tobacco, the quid, the pinch, and the cigar, announce his good taste. The cambric pocket-handkerchief was the only one known in the olden times. The belcher (what a name! ) supplies its place, together with the bird's eye, or the colours of some black or white boxer. An accomplished man was the delight of all companies in former times. An out and outer, one up to every thing, down as a nail or the knocker of Newgate, a trump, or a Trojan, now carry the mode of praise; one that can _patter flash, floor a charley, mill a coal-heaver_, come coachey in prime style, up to every rig and row in town, and down to every move upon the board, from a nibble at the club to a dead hit at a h.e.l.l; can swear, smoke, take snuff, lush, play at all games, and throw over both s.e.xes in different ways--he is the finished man. The attributes of a modern fine gentleman are, to have his address at his club, and his residence any where; to lounge, laugh, lisp, and loll away the time from four to eight, when having dressed, eat his olives, he goes to Almack's if he can, or struts into Fop's Alley at the Opera in boots, in defiance of decency or the remonstrance of the door-keepers; talks loud to be noticed; and having handed some woman of fashion to her carriage, gets in after her without invitation, and, as a matter of course, behaves rudely in return; makes a last call at the club in his way home to learn the issue of the debate, and try his luck at French hazard or fleecing a novice. (See Plate.)

[Ill.u.s.tration: page217]

If his fortune should be one thousand per annum, his income may be extended to five, by virtue of credit and credulity. If he comes out very early in life, say eighteen, he will scarcely expect to be visible at twenty-four; but if he does not appear until he is twenty-one, and then lives all his days, he may die fairly of old age, infirmity, and insolvency, at twenty-six. His topographical knowledge of town is bounded by the fashionable ~218~~directory, which limits his recognition, on the north, by Oxford-street, on the east, by Bond-street, on the south, by Pall Mall, and on the west, by Park-lane.

Ask him where is Russell Square, and he stares at you for a rustic; inquire what authors he reads, and he answers Weatherbey and Rhodes; ask what are their works, and he laughs outright at your ignorance of the 'Racing Calendar,' 'Annals of Sporting,' 'Boxiana,' and 'Turf Remembrancer;' question his knowledge of science, it consists in starch _a la Brummel_{8}; of mathematics, in working problems on the cards; of algebra, in calculating the long odds, or squaring the chances of the dice; he tells you, his favourite book is his betting account, that John Bull is the only newspaper worth reading, and that you must never expect to be admitted into good society if the cut of your coat does not bear outward proofs of its being fabricated either in Saint James's Street or Bond Street; that the great requisites are _confidence, indifference, and nonchalance_; as, for instance, George Wombwell being thrown out of his tilbury on High gate Hill, when driving Captain Burdett, and both being dreadfully bruised, George is picked

8 When Brummel fell into disgrace, he devised the starched neckcloth, with the design of putting the prince's neck out of fashion, and of bringing his Royal Highness's muslin, his bow, and wadding, into contempt. When he first appeared in this stiffened cravat, tradition says that the sensation in St. James's-street was prodigious; dandies were struck dumb with envy, and washerwomen miscarried. No one could conceive how the effect was produced--tin, card, a thousand contrivances were attempted, and innumerable men cut their throats in vain experiments; the secret, in fact, puzzled and baffled every one, and poor dandy L------d died raving mad of it; his mother, sister, and all his relations waited on Brummel, and on their knees implored him to save their kinsman's life by the explanation of the mystery; but the beau was obdurate, and L------d miserably perished.

When Brummel fled from England, he left this secret a legacy to his country; he wrote on a sheet of paper, on his dressing-table, the emphatic words, "Starch is the man."

~219 up by a countryman, when he inquires, very coolly, if 't'other blackguard is not quite dead:' his amours are more distinguished by their number than attractions, and the first point is, not attachment, but notoriety; the lady always being the more desirable, in proportion to the known variety of her gallants; that of all the pleasures of this life, there is nothing like a squeeze at court (see plate), or being wedged into a close room at a crowded rout.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page219]

A ruffian was never thought of by our forefathers; the exquisite was; but he was more sublimated than the exquisite of the nineteenth century.

The dandy is of modern date; but there is some polish on him--suppose it be on his boots alone. Shape and make are attended to by him; witness the c.u.mberland corset, and his making what he can of every body. Then, again, he must have a smattering of French, and affect to be above old England. When he smokes, he does it from vanity, to show his _ec.u.me de mer_ pipe. He may have a gold snuff-box and a little diamond pin; and when he swears, he lisps it out like a baby's lesson. Sometimes (not often) he plays upon the guitar; and the peninsular war may have made a man of him, and a linguist too; but he is far below the ancient exquisites (who touched the lute, the lyre, and violoncello). And he is an egotist in every thing--in gallantry, in conversation, in principle, and in heart. Nor has the deterioration of the gentleman been confined to England only--polite and ceremonious France has felt her change. The Revolution brought in coa.r.s.e and uncivilised manners. The awkward and unsuccessful attempt at Spartan and Roman republican manners; the citizen succeeding to Monsieur; the blasphemous, incredulous, atheistical principles instilled into the then growing generation of all cla.s.ses; the system of equality, subversive of courtliness, and the obliging attentions and suavities of society, poisoned at once the source ~220~~of morals and of manners; for there can be nothing gentlemanlike in atheism, radicalism, and the level, ling system. To this state of things succeeded a reign of terror, a.s.sa.s.sination, and debauchery; and lastly, a military despotism, in which the private soldier rose to the marshals baton; a groom in the stables of the Prince of Conde saw himself enn.o.bled; peers and generals had brothers still keeping little retail shops; and a drum-boy lived to see his wife--a washerwoman, or fish vender--a d.u.c.h.ess (Madame Lefevre). How can we expect breeding from such materials? Bayonets gave brilliancy to the imperial court; and the youth of the country were all soldiers, without dreaming of the gentleman, except in a low bow and flourish of the hat; a greater flourish of self-praise, and a few warm, loose, and dangerous compliments to the fairer s.e.x, became more than even the objects of their pa.s.sion, but less so of their attentions and prepossessing a.s.siduities. This military race taught us to smoke, to snuff, to drink brandy, and to swear; for although John Bull never was backward in that point, yet St. Giles's and not St. James's, was the _rendezvous_ for those who possessed that brutal and invincible habit. These were not amongst the least miseries and curses which the war produced; and they have left such mischievous traces behind them, that the mature race in France laugh at the old court, and at all old civil and religious principles, whilst our demoralized youth play the same game at home.

And if a Bolingbroke or a Chesterfield was now to appear, he would be quizzed by all the smokers, jokers, hoaxers, gla.s.s-c.o.c.kers, blacklegs, and fancy-fellows of the town, amongst whom all ranks are perfectly lost, and morality is an absolute term. O tempora! O Moses! (as the would-be Lady Sckolard said.) Nor does Moses play second best in these characters of the day. Moses has crept into all circles; from the ring to the peerage and baronetage, the stage, the ~221~~race-course; and our clubs are tinged with the Israelitish: they may lend money, but they cannot lend a l.u.s.tre to the court, or to the gilded and painted saloons of the _beau monde_. The style of things is altered; we mean not the old style and new in point of date, but in point of brilliancy in the higher circles. Our ancestors never b.u.mped along the streets, with a stable-boy by their side, in a one-horse machine, which is now the _bon ton_ in imitation of our Gallic neighbours, whose equipage is measured by their purse. Where do you now see a carriage with six horses, and three outriders, and an _avant courier_, except on Lord Mayor's day? Yet how common this was with the n.o.bility _d'autrefois_. Two grooms are no longer his Grace's and my Lord's attendants, but each is followed by one groom in plain clothes, not very dissimilar from the man he serves. Do we ever see the star of n.o.bility in the morning, to guard him who has a right to it from popular rudeness and a confusion of rank? All is now privacy, concealment, equality in exterior, musty and meanness: not that the plain style of dress would be exceptionable, if we could say in verity--

'We have within what far surpa.s.seth show.'

But the lining is now no better (oftentimes worse) than the coat. Our principles and our politeness are on a par--at low-water mark. The tradesman lives like the gentleman, and the n.o.bleman steps down a degree to be, like other people, up to all fashionable habits and modern customs; whilst the love for gain, at the clubs, on the turf, in the ring, and in private life, debases one part of society, and puts down the other, which becomes the pigeon to the rook. Whilst all this goes on, the press chronicles and invents follies for us; and there are men stupid enough to glory in their depravity, to be pleased with their own deformity of mind, body, or dress, of their affectations, ~222~~and their leading of a party. There is something manly in the Yacht Club, in a dexterously driving four fleet horses in hand, in reining in the proud barb, and in gymnastic exercises: but the whole merit of these ceases, when my Lord (like him of carroty beard) becomes the tar without his glory, and wears the check shirt without the heart of oak--when the driver becomes the imitator of the stage and hackney box--when the rider is the unsuccessful rival of the jockey; and the frequenter of the gymnastic arena becomes a bruiser, or one turning strength into money, be the bet or the race what it may.

'Shades of our ancestors! whose fame of old In ev'ry time the echoing world has told!

Whose dauntless valour and heroic deeds, Each British bosom yet enraptur'd reads!

Deeds, which in ev'ry country, clime, and age, Have fill'd the poet's and historian's page; Of ev'ry muse the theme, and ev'ry pen: Ye I invoke! and ye, my countrymen, If British blood yet flows within your veins, If for your country aught of love remains, O make your first, your chief, your only care, That which first rais'd and made you what you were.'"

[Ill.u.s.tration: page222]

CHELTONIAN CHARACTERS.

A TRIP TO THE SPAS.

CHAPTER I.

~223~~

Bernard Blackmantle and Bob Transit pay a Visit to the Chelts--Privileges of a Spy--Alarm at Chelten-him--The rival Editors--The setting of a great Son--How to sink in Popularity and Respect--A n.o.ble t.i.tle--An old Flame-- Poetical _jeu d'esprit_, by Vinegar Penn--Muriatic Acid--An Attorney-General's Opinion on Family Propensities given without a Fee!!--The Cheltenham Dandy, or the Man in the Cloak, a Sketch from the Life-n.o.ble Anecdote of the Fox- hunting Parson--Bury-ing alive at Berkeley--Public Theatricals in private--"A Michaelmas Preachment," by an Honest Reviewer--A few Words for Ourselves--The Grand Marshall--Interesting Story of a former M. C.

"Oh, I've been to countries rare; Seen such sights, 'twould make you stare."

[Ill.u.s.tration: page223]

"That last chapter of yours, Blackmantle, on John Long and John Long's customers, will long remain a memorial of your scrutinizing qualifications, and, as I think, will prevent your taking your port, punch, pines, or soda-water in Bond-street for some time to come, lest 'suspicion, which ever haunts the guilty mind,' should in the course of conversation convict you; and then, my dear fellow, you would certainly go off pop like the last-mentioned article in the above reference to the luxuries of Long's hotel." ~224~~"Bravo, Bob Transit!" said I; "this comes mighty well from you, sir, my _fidus achates_.--'_A bon chat bon rat_'--the _fidus and audax_ satirists of the present times. And who, sir, dares to doubt our joint authority? are we not the very spies o'

the age?

'Joint monarchs of all we survey; Our right there is none to dispute.'

From the throne to, the thatched cottage, wherever there is character, 'there fly we,' and, on the wings of merry humour, draw with pen and pencil a faithful portraiture of things as they are; not tearing aside the hallowed veil of private life, but seizing as of public right on public character, and with a playful vein of satire proving that we are of the poet's school;

'Form'd to delight at once and lash the age.'

At this season of the year fashion cries out of Town; so, pack up, Master Robert, and Let us to Chelt's retiring banks, Where beaux and beauties throng, To drink at Spas and play rum pranks, That here will live in song.

What Cheltenham was, is no business of ours; what it is, as regards its buildings, salubrious air, and saline springs, its walks, views, libraries, theatre, and varieties, my friend Williams, whose shop at the corner of the a.s.sembly rooms is the grand lounge of the literati, will put the visitor into possession of for the very moderate sum of five shillings. But, reader, if you would search deeper into society, and know something of the whim and character of the frequenters and residents of this fashionable place of public resort, you must consult the English Spy, and trace in his pages and the accompanying plates of his friend Bob Transit the faithful likenesses of the scenes and persons who figure in the maze of fashion, ~225~~or attract attention by the notoriety of their amours, the eccentricity of their manners, or the publicity of their attachments to the ball or the billiard-room, the card or the hazard-table, the turf or the chase; for in all of these does Cheltenham abound. From the _cercle de la ba.s.se to the cercle de la haute_, from the nadir to the zenith, 'I know ye, and have at ye all'--ye busy, buzzing, merry, amorous groups of laughter-loving, ogling, ambling, gambling Cheltenham folk.

'A chiel's among ye taking notes, And faith, he'll print them.'

To spy out your characteristic follies, ye sons and daughters of pleasure, have we, Bernard Blackmantle and Robert Transit, esquires, travelled down to Cheltenham to collect materials for an odd chapter of a very odd book, but one which has already established its fame by continued success, and, as I hope owes much of its increasing prosperity to its characteristic good-humour; so, without more preface, imagine a little dapper-looking fellow of about five feet something in alt.i.tude, attended by a tall sharp-visaged gentleman in very spruce costume, parading up and down the High-street, Cheltenham--lounging for a few minutes in Williams's library--making very inquisitive remarks upon the pa.s.sing singularities--and then the little man most impertinently whispering to his friend with the Quixotic visage, book him, Bob--when out comes the note book of both parties, and down goes somebody.

Afterwards see them popping into this shop, and then into the other, spying and prying about--occasionally nodding perhaps to a London actor, who shines forth here a star of the first magnitude; John Liston, for instance, or Tyrone Power--then posting off to the well walks, or disturbing the peaceful dead by ambling over their graves in search of humorous epitaphs--making their way down to the Berkeley kennel in North-street (See Plate), ~226~~or paying a visit to the Paphian divinities at the Oakland cottages under the Cleigh Hills--trotting here and there--making notes and sketches until all Cheltenham is in a state of high excitement, and the rival editors of the Chronicle and Journal, Messrs. Halpine and Judge, are so much alarmed that they are almost prepared to become friends, and unite their forces for the time against the common enemy.