description of dashing characters, who find chaunting a
horse to a green one, a snug accidental party at chicken
hazard, or a confederacy to entrap some inexperienced bird
of fashion, where he may be plucked by Greek banditti, pay
exceedingly well for these occasional dinner parties.
At this moment our attention was engaged by the entrance of a party of
exquisites and elegantes, dressed in the very extreme of opera costume,
who directed their steps to the regions above us. "I'll bet a hundred,"
said the honourable, "I know that leg," eyeing a divine little foot and
a finely turned ankle that was just then discernible from beneath a rich
pink drapery, as the possessor ascended the gallery of the conservatory,
lounging on the arm of the Irish Earl of C------; " the best leg in
England, and not a bad figure for an ancient," continued Lionise: "that
is the celebrated Mrs. Bertram, alias Bang--everybody ~209~~ knows Bang;
that is, every body in the fashionable world. She must have been a most
delightful creature when she first came out, and has continued longer in
bloom than any of the present houris of the west; but I forgot you were
fresh, and only in training, Heartly--I must introduce you to Bang: you
will never arrive at any eminence among the haut classe unless you can
call these beauties by name." "And who the deuce is Bang?" said I: "not
that elegantly-dressed female whom I see tripping up the gallery stairs
yonder, preceded by several other delightful faces." "The same, my dear
fellow: a fallen star, to be sure, but yet a planet round whose
orbit move certain other little twinkling luminaries whose attractive
glimmerings are very likely to enlighten your obscure sentimentality.
Bang was the daughter of a bathing-woman at Brighton, from whence she
eloped early in life with a navy lieutenant-has since been well known as
a dasher of the first water upon the pave--regularly sports her carriage
in the drive--and has numbered among her protectors, at various times,
the Marquis W------, Lord A------, Colonel C------, and, lastly, a
descendant of the mighty Wallace, who, in an auto-biographical sketch,
boasts of his intimacy with this fascinating cyprian. She has, however,
one qualification, which is not usually found among those of her
class--she has had the prudence to preserve a great portion of her
liberal allowances, and is now perfectly independent of the world.
We must visit one of her evening parties in the neighbourhood of
Euston-square, when she invites a select circle of her professional
sisters to a ball and supper, to which entertainment her male visitors
are expected to contribute liberally. She has fixed upon the earl, I
should think, more for the honour of the title than with any pecuniary
hopes, his dissipation having left him scarce enough to keep up
appearances." "The amiable who precedes her," said I, "is of the same
class, I ~210~~ presume--precisely, and equally notorious." "That is
the celebrated Mrs. L------, better known as Moll Raffle, from the
circumstance of her being actually raffled for, some years since, by the
officers of the seventh dragoons, when they were quartered at Rochester:
like her female friend, she is a woman of fortune, said to be worth
eighteen hundred per annum, with which she has recently purchased
herself a Spanish cavalier for a husband. A curious anecdote is related
of Moll and her once kind friend, the Marquis of W--------, who is said
to have given her a bond for seven thousand pounds, on a certain great
house, not a mile from Hyde-park corner, which he has since assigned
to a fortunate general, the present possessor; who, thinking his title
complete, proceeded to take possession, but found his entry disputed by
the lady, to whom he was eventually compelled to pay the forfeiture of
the bond. Come along, my boy," said Lionise; "I'll introduce you at
once to the whole party, and then you can make your own selection." "Not
at present: I came here for general observation, not private intrigue,
and must confess I have seldom found a more diversified scene."
"I beg pardon, gentlemen," said an easy good-looking fellow, with
something rather imposing in his manner--"Shall I intrude here?--will
'you permit me to take a seat in your box?" "By all means," replied
I; Bob, at the same moment, pressing his elbow into my side, and the
exquisite raising his glass very significantly to his eye, the stranger
continued--"A very charming saloon this, gentlemen, and the company
very superior to the general assemblage at such places: my friend, the
Earl of C------, yonder, I perceive, amorously engaged; Lord P------,
too, graces the upper regions with the delightful Josephine: really this
is quite the cafe royal of London; the accommodation, too, admirable--not
merely confined to refreshments; I am told there are excellent billiard
~211~~ tables, and snug little private rooms for a quiet rubber, or a
little chicken hazard. Do you play, gentlemen? very happy to set you for
a main or two, by way of killing time." That one word, play, let me
at once into the secret of our new acquaintance's character, and fully
explained the distant reception and cautious bearing of my associates.
My positive refusal to accommodate produced a very polite bow, and the
party immediately retired to reconnoitre among some less suspicious
visitants. "A nibble," said Transit, "from an ivory turner."{5} "By
the honour of my ancestry," said Lionise, "a very finished sharper;
I remember Lord F------ pointing him out to me at the last Newmarket
spring meeting, when we met him, arm in arm, with a sporting
baronet. What the fellow was, nobody knows; but he claims a military
title--captain, of course--perhaps has formerly held a lieutenancy in a
militia regiment: he now commands a corps of sappers on the Greek staff,
and when he honoured us with a call just now was on the recruiting
service, I should think; but our friend, Heartly, here, would not stand
drill, so he has marched off on the forlorn hope, and is now, you may
perceive, concerting some new scheme with a worthy brother touter,{6}
who is on the half pay of the British army, and receives full pay in
the service of the Greeks. We must make a descent into hell some night,"
said Transit, "and sport a few crowns at roulette or rouge et noir,
to give Heartly his degree. We shall proceed regularly upon college
principles, old fellow: first, we will visit the Little Go in
King-street, and then drop into the Great Go, alias Watiers, in
Piccadilly; after which we can sup in Crockford's pandemonium among
parliamentary pigeons, unfledged
5 A tats man, a proficient with the bones, one who knows
every chance upon the dice.
6 A decoy, who seduces the young or inexperienced to the
gaming table, and receives a per centage upon their losses.
~212~~ ensigns of the guards, broken down titled legs, and ci-devant
bankers, fishmongers, and lightermen; and here comes the very fellow
to introduce us--an old college chum, Charles Rattle, who was expelled
Brazennose for smuggling, and who has since been pretty well plucked by
merciless Greek banditti and Newmarket jockeys, but who bears his losses
with the temper of a philosopher, and still pursues the destructive vice
with all the infatuation of the most ardent devotee." "How d'ye do,
old fellows?--how d'ye do? Who would have thought to have met the
philosopher (pointing to me) at such a place as this, among the impures
of both sexes, legs and leg-ees? Come to sport a little blunt with the
table or the traders, hey! Heartly? Always suspected you was no puritan,
although you wear such a sentimental visage. Well, old fellows, I am
glad to see you, however,--come, a bottle of Champagne, for I have just
cast off all my real troubles--had a fine run of luck to-night--broke the
bank, and bolted with all the cash. Just in the nick of time-off for
Epsom to-morrow--double my bets upon the Derby, and if the thing comes
off right, I'll give somebody a thousand or two to tie me up from
playing again above five pounds stakes as long as I live. The best thing
you ever heard in your life--a double to do. Ned C-----d having heard I
had just received a few thousands, by the sale of the Yorkshire acres,
planned it with Colonel T----- to introduce me to the new club, where a
regular plant was to be made, by some of his myrmidons, to clear me out,
by first letting me win a few thousands, when they were to pounce upon
me, double the stakes, and finish me off in prime style, fleecing me out
of every guinea--very good-trick and tie, you know, is fair play--and
for this very honest service, my friend, the colonel, was to receive a
commission, or per centage, in proportion to my losses: the very last
man in the world that the old pike could ~213~~ have baited for in that
way--the colonel's down a little, to be sure, but not so low as to turn
confederate to a leg--so suppressed his indignation at the
proposition, and lent himself to the scheme, informing me of the whole
circumstances--well, all right--we determined to give the old one
a benefit--dined with him to-day--a very snug party--devilish good
dinner--superb wines--drank freely--punished his claret--and having
knocked about Saint Hugh's bones{7} until I was five thousand in pocket,
politely took my leave, without giving the parties their revenge. Never
saw a finer scene in the course of my life-such queer looks, and long
faces, and smothered wailings when they found themselves done by a brace
of gudgeons, whom they had calculated upon picking to the very bones!
Come, old fellows, a toast: Here's Fishmonger's Hall, and may every
suspected gudgeon prove a shark."
The bottle now circulated freely, and the open-hearted Rattle delighted
us with the relation of some college anecdotes, which I shall reserve
for a hearty laugh when we meet. The company continued to increase
with the appearance of morning; and here might be seen the abandoned
profligate, with his licentious female companion, completing the
night's debauch by the free use of intoxicating liquors--the ruined
spendthrift, fresh from the gaming-table, loudly calling for wine, to
drown the remembrance of his folly, and abusing the drowsy waiter only
to give utterance to his irritated feelings. In a snug corner might be
seen a party of sober, quiet-looking gentlemen, taking their lobster and
bucellas, whose first appearance would impress you with the belief of
their respectability, but whom, upon inquiry, you would discover to be
Greek banditti, retired hither to divide their ill gotten spoils. It was
among a party of this description that Rattle pointed out a celebrated
writer, whose lively style and accurate description of
7 Saint Hugh's bones, a cant phrase for dice.
~214~~ men and manners display no common mind. Yet here he was seen
associated with the most depraved of the human species--the gambler by
profession, the common cheat! What wonder that such connexions should
have compelled him for a time to become an exile to his country, and on
his return involved him in a transaction that has ended in irretrievable
ruin and disgrace? "By the honour of my ancestry," said Lionise,
"yonder is that delectable creature, old Crony, the dinner many that
is the most surprising animal we have yet found among the modern
discoveries--polite to and point--always well dressed--keeps the best
society--or, I should say, the best society keeps him: to an amazing fund
of the newest on dits and anecdotes of ton, always ready cut and dried,
he joins a smattering of the classics, and chops logic with the learned
that he may carve their more substantial fare gratis; has a memory
tenacious as a chief judge on matter of invitation, and a stomach
capacious as a city alderman in doing honour to the feast; pretends to
be a connoisseur in wines, although he never possessed above one bottle
at a time in his cellaret, I should think, in the whole course of his
life; talks about works of art and virtu as if Sir Joshua Reynolds had
been his nurse--Claude his intimate acquaintance--or Praxiteles his
great great grandfather. The fellow affects a most dignified contempt
for the canaille, because, in truth, they never invite him to dinner--is
on the free list of all the theatres, from having formerly been freely
hiss'd upon their boards--a retired tragedy king on a small pension, with
a republican stomach, who still enacts the starved apothecary at home,
from penury, and liberally crams his voracious paunch, stuffing like
Father Paul, when at the table of others. With these habits, he has just
managed to scrape together some sixty pounds per annum, upon which, by
good management, he contrives to live like an emperor; for instance, he
keeps a regular book of ~215 invitations, numbers his friends according
to the days of the year, and divides and subdivides them in accordance
with their habits and pursuits, so that an unexpected invitation
requires a reference to his journal: if you invite him for Saturday
next, he will turn to his tablets, apologise for a previous engagement,
run his eye eagerly down the column for an occasional absentee, and
then invite himself for some day in the ensuing week, to which your
politeness cannot fail to accede. You will meet him in London, Brighton,
Bath, Cheltenham, and Margate during the fashionable periods; at all
of which places he has his stated number of dinner friends, where his
presence is as regularly looked for as the appearance of the swallow.
Among the play men he is useful as a looker on, to make one at the table
when they are thin of customers, or to drink a young one into a proper
state for plucking: in other society he coins compliments for the fair
lady of the mansion, extols his host's taste and good fellowship at
table, tells a smutty story to amuse the _bon vivants_ in their cups, or
recites a nursery rhyme to send the children quietly to bed; and in this
manner Crony manages to come in for a good dinner every day of his
life. Call on him for a song, and he'll give you, what he calls, a free
translation of a Latin ode, by old Walter de Mapes, Archdeacon of Oxford
in the eleventh century, a true _gourmands_ prayer--
1 Mihi est propositum in taberna mon.'
I'll try and hum you Crony's English version of the
CANTILENA.
'I'll in a tavern end my days, midst boon companions merry,
Place at my lips a lusty flask replete with sparkling sherry,
That angels, hov'ring round, may cry, when I lie dead as door-nail,
'Rise, genial deacon, rise, and drink of the well of life eternal.'
*****
~216~~
'Various implements belong to ev'ry occupation;
Give me an haunch of venison--and a fig for inspiration!
Verses and odes without good cheer, I never could indite 'em;
Sure he who meagre, days devised is d-----d ad infinitum!
*****
'Mysteries and prophetic truths, I never could unfold 'em
Without a flagon of good wine and a slice of cold ham;
But when I've drained my liquor out, and eat what's in the dish up,
Though I am but an arch-deacon, I can preach like an arch-
bishop.'"
"A good orthodox ode," said Transit, "and admirably suited to the
performer, who, after all, it must be allowed, is a very entertaining
fellow, and well worthy of his dinner, from the additional amusement he
affords. I remember meeting him in company with the late Lord Coleraine,
the once celebrated Colonel George Hanger, when he related an anecdote
of the humorist, which his lordship freely admitted to be founded on
fact. As I have never seen it in print, or heard it related by any one
since, you shall have it instanter: It is well known that our present
laughter-loving monarch was, in earlier years, often surrounded, when in
private, by a coruscation of wit and talent, which included not only the
most distinguished persons in the state, but also some celebrated bon
vivants and amateur vocalists, among whom the names of the Duke of
Orleans, Earl of Derby, Charles James Fox, Richard Brinsley Sheridan,
the facetious poet laureat to the celebrated Beefsteak club, Tom
Hewardine, Sir John Moore, Mr Brownlow, Captain Thompson, Bate Dudley,
Captain Morris, and Colonel George Hanger, formed the most conspicuous
characters at the princely anacreontic board. But
'Who would be grave--when wine can save
The heaviest soul from thinking,
And magic grapes give angel's shapes
To every girl we're drinking!'
~217~~ It was on one of these festive occasions, when whim, and wit, and
sparkling wine combined to render the festive scene the 'Feast of reason
and the flow of soul,' that the Prince of Wales invited himself and
his brother, the Duke of York, to dine with George Hanger. An honour
so unlooked for, and one for which George was so little prepared (as he
then resided in obscure lodgings near Soho-square), quite overpowered
the Colonel, who, however, quickly recovering his surprise, assured
his royal highness of the very high sense he entertained of the honour
intended him, but lamented it was not in his power to receive him, and
his illustrious brother, in a manner suitable to their royal dignity.
'You only wish to save your viands, George,' said the prince: 'we shall
certainly dine with you on the day appointed; and whether you reside on
the first floor or the third, never mind--the feast will not be the less
agreeable from the altitude of the apartment, or the plainness of the
repast.' Thus encouraged, George was determined to indulge in a joke
with his royal visitors. On the appointed day, the prince and duke
arrived, and were shown up stairs to George's apartments, on the second
floor, where a very tasteful banquet was set out, but more distinguished
by neatness than splendour: after keeping his illustrious guests waiting
a considerable period beyond the time agreed on, by way of sharpening
their appetites, the prince good-humouredly inquired what he meant to
give them for dinner?' Only one dish,' said George; 'but that one will,
I flatter myself, be a novelty to my royal guests, and prove highly
palatable.' 'And what may that be?' said the prince. 'The wing of a
wool-bird,' replied the facetious colonel. It was in vain the prince
and duke conjectured what this strange title could import, when George
appeared before them with a tremendous large red baking dish, ~218~~
smoking hot, in which was supported a fine well-browned shoulder of
mutton, dropping its rich gravy over some crisp potatoes. The prince and
his brother enjoyed the joke amazingly, and they have since been heard
to declare, they never ate a heartier meal in their life, or one (from
its novelty to them in the state in which it was served up), which they
have relished more. George had, however, reserved a _bonne bouche_, in a
superb dessert and most exquisite wines, for which the prince had heard
he was famous, and which was, perhaps, the principal incitement to the
honour conferred."
After a night spent in the utmost hilarity, heightened by the vivacity
and good-humour of my associates, to which might be added, the full
gratification of my prevailing _penchant_ for the observance of
character, we were on the point of departing, when Transit, ever on the
alert in search of variety, observed a figure whom (in his phrase) he
had long wished to book; in a few moments a sketch of this eccentric
personage was before us. "That is the greatest original we have yet
seen," said our friend Bob: "he is now in the honourable situation of
croupier to one of the most notorious hells in the metropolis. This poor
devil was once a master tailor of some respectability, until getting
connected with a gang of sharpers, he was eventually fleeced of all
his little property: his good-natured qualifications, and the harmless
pleasantries with which he abounds, pointed him out as a very proper
person to act as a confederate to the more wealthy legs; from a pigeon
he became a bird of prey, was enlisted into the corps, and regularly
initiated into all the diabolical mysteries of the black art. For some
time he figured as a decoy upon the town, dressed in the first style of
fashion, and driving an unusually fine horse and elegant Stanhope, until
a circumstance, arising out of a ~219~~ joke played off upon him by his
companions, when in a state of intoxication, made him so notorious,
that his usefulness in that situation was entirely frustrated, and,
consequently, he has since been employed within doors, in the more
sacred mysteries of the Greek temple. The gentleman I mean is yonder,
with the Joliffe tile and sharp indented countenance: his real name is
B------; but he has now obtained the humorous cognomen of 'The subject'
from having been, while in a state of inebriety, half stripped, put
into a sack, and in this manner conveyed to the door of Mr. Brooks, the
celebrated anatomist in Blenheim-street, by a hackney night-coachman,
who was known to the party as the resurrection Jarvey. On his being
deposited in this state at the lecturer's door, by honest Jehu, who
offered him for sale, the surgeon proceeded to examine his subject,
when, untying the sack, he discovered the man was breathing: 'Why, you
scoundrel,' said the irritable anatomist, 'the man's not dead.' 'Not
dead!' re-echoed coachee, laughing at the joke, 'Why, then, kill him
when you want him!' The consequence of this frolic had, however, nearly
proved more serious than the projectors anticipated: the anatomist,
suspecting it was some trick to enter his house for burglarious
purposes, gave the alarm, when Jarvey made his escape; but poor
B------was secured, and conveyed the next morning to Marlborough-street,
where it required all the ingenuity of a celebrated Old Bailey solicitor
to prevent his being committed for the attempt to rob a bonehouse."
After this anecdote, we all agreed to separate. Transit would fain
have led us to the Covent-garden finish, which he describes as being
unusually rich in character; but this was deferred until another night,
when I shall introduce you to some new acquaintances.--Adieu. Lady Mary
Oldstyle and the D'Almaine family are off to-morrow for Brighton, from
which place expect some few descriptive sketches.
Horatio Heartly.
[Illustration: page220]
THE SPREAD,{1} OR WINE PARTY AT BRAZEN-NOSE.
~220~~
"Hear, Momus, hoar! blithe sprite, whose dimpling cheek
Of quips, and cranks ironic, seems to speak,
Who lovest learned victims, and whose shrine
Groans with the weight of victims asinine.
Nod with assent! thy lemon juice infuse!
Though of male sex, I woo thee for a Muse."
_A College Wine Party described--Singular Whim of Horace
Eglantine--Meeting of the Oxford Crackademonians--Sketches
of eccentric Characters, drawn from the Life--The Doctor's
Daughter--An old Song--A Round of Sculls--Epitaphs on the
Living and the Dead--Tom Tick, a College Tale--The Voyagers
--Notes and Anecdotes._
A college wine party I could very well conceive from the specimen I
had already of my companion's frolicsome humours, was not unlikely to
produce some departure from college rules which might eventually involve
me in _rustication, fine_, or _imposition_. To avoid it was impossible;
it was the first invitation of an early friend, and must be obeyed. The
anticipation of a bilious head-ache on the morrow, or perhaps a first
appearance before, or lecture from, the vice-chancellor, principal, or
proctor, made me somewhat tardy in my appearance at the _spread_. The
butler was just marching a second
1 A spread. A wine party of from thirty to one hundred and
twenty persons. The party who gives the spread generally
invites all the under-graduates he is acquainted with; a
dessert is ordered either from Jubber's, or Sadler's, for
the number invited, for which he is charged at per head.