If the golden gate of preferment is not usually opened to men of real
merit, persons of no worth have entered it in a most extraordinary
manner.
Chevreau informs us that the Sultan Osman having observed a gardener
planting a cabbage with some peculiar dexterity, the manner so attracted
his imperial eye that he raised him to an office near his person, and
shortly afterwards he rewarded the planter of cabbages by creating him
_beglerbeg_ or viceroy of the Isle of Cyprus.
Marc Antony gave the house of a Roman citizen to a cook, who had
prepared for him a good supper! Many have been raised to extraordinary
preferment by capricious monarchs for the sake of a jest. Lewis XI.
promoted a poor priest whom he found sleeping in the porch of a church,
that the proverb might be verified, that to lucky men good fortune will
come even when they are asleep! Our Henry VII. made a viceroy of Ireland
if not for the sake of, at least with a clench. When the king was told
that all Ireland could not rule the Earl of Kildare, he said, then shall
this earl rule all Ireland.
It is recorded of Henry VIII. that he raised a servant to a considerable
dignity because he had taken care to have a roasted boar prepared for
him, when his majesty happened to be in the humour of feasting on one!
and the title of _Sugar-loaf-court,_ in Leadenhall-street, was probably
derived from another piece of munificence of this monarch: the widow of
a Mr. Cornwallis was rewarded by the gift of a dissolved priory there
situated, for some _fine puddings_ with which she had presented his
majesty!
When Cardinal de Monte was elected pope, before he left the conclave, he
bestowed a cardinal's hat upon a servant, whose chief merit consisted in
the daily attentions he paid to his holiness's monkey!
Louis Barbier owed all his good fortune to the familiar knowledge he had
of Rabelais. He knew his Rabelais by heart. This served to introduce him
to the Duke of Orleans, who took great pleasure in reading that author.
It was for this he gave him an abbey, and he was gradually promoted till
he became a cardinal.
George Villiers was suddenly raised from private station, and loaded
with wealth and honours by James the First, merely for his personal
beauty.[4] Almost all the favourites of James became so from their
handsomeness.[5]
M. de Chamillart, minister of France, owed his promotion merely to his
being the only man who could beat Louis XIV. at billiards. He retired
with a pension, after ruining the finances of his country.
The Duke of Luynes was originally a country lad, who insinuated himself
into the favour of Louis XIII. then young, by making bird-traps
(pies-grièches) to catch sparrows. It was little expected (says
Voltaire) that these puerile amusements were to be terminated by a most
sanguinary revolution. De Luynes, after causing his patron, the Marshal
D'Ancre, to be assassinated, and the queen-mother to be imprisoned,
raised himself to a title and the most tyrannical power.
Sir Walter Raleigh owed his promotion to an act of gallantry to Queen
Elizabeth, and Sir Christopher Hatton owed his preferment to his
dancing: Queen Elizabeth, observes Granger, with all her sagacity, could
not see the future lord chancellor in the fine dancer. The same writer
says, "Nothing could form a more curious collection of memoirs than
_anecdotes of preferment_." Could the secret history of great men be
traced, it would appear that merit is rarely the first step to
advancement. It would much oftener be found to be owing to superficial
qualifications, and even vices.