anxieties of love, but that he found time and sufficient spirits for
the indulgence of those lively pleasantries, which must doubtless
have contributed much to recommend him to the favour of the lady's
guardian, if not to her own. The name of the inn, "The Flower Pot,"
which was the scene of the absurd adventure just related, suggested
one of these. There resided, it seems, at Sunbury, in a large house,
an elderly gentleman, a bachelor, of somewhat eccentric disposition,
whose ruling passion was for his garden. This, albeit prodigality
was by no means a besetting sin of the proprietor, was kept in the
most admirable order, and decorated, regardless of expense, with a
profusion of ornaments in the very height of suburban fashion--leaden
cupids, slate sun-dials, grottoes of oyster-shells and looking-glass,
heaps of flints and overburned bricks, denominated rockwork, and
beyond all, and above all, with a magnificent vase filled with a
flaming cluster of fuchsias, geraniums, and a number of plants with
brilliant blossoms and unutterable names, which faced the entrance.
Here, one fine afternoon, when the flowers had reached their acme of
refulgence, Mr. Theodore pulled up his dennet. A powerful tug at
the bell brought a sort of half-gardener, half-groom, to the gate in
double-quick time.
"Take the mare round to the stable, put her in a loose box, and rub
her down well. I'll come and see her fed myself in a few minutes;
none of you rascals are to be trusted!"
So saying, the young gentleman threw the reins to the domestic,
marched leisurely along the broad, brown-sugar-looking walk,
dexterously cutting off here and there an overgrown carnation
with the lash of his driving-whip, and entered the hall. Giving
another tremendous jerk to the bell-wire in passing, he walked
into the dining-room, the door of which happened to be open, took
up a magazine, and threw himself at full length upon the sofa. A
tidily-dressed maid servant appeared at the summons.
"Bring me a glass of brandy-and-water, my dear, and send 'Boots.'"
"'Boots,' and 'brandy-and-water,'--La, sir!" exclaimed the astonished
girl.
"You may fetch me a pair of slippers yourself, if you like; so make
haste, and you shall have a kiss when you come back."
Duped by the authoritative air assumed by the visitor, (it would be
indecorous to suppose another motive,) the attendant disappeared, and
speedily returning with the slippers, observed,
"If you please, sir, I have brought you a pair, but they are
master's, and he is rather particular."
"Particular! Nonsense! where's the brandy-and-water?"
"He never leaves out the spirits, sir; he always keeps the key
himself, sir, in his own pocket."
"He must be a deuced odd sort of fellow, then: send him here
immediately."
"Master is dressing, sir; he will be down directly," was the reply;
and, accordingly, after the lapse of a few minutes, Mr. ---- made
his appearance in full evening costume.
"My good friend," commenced Hook, without raising his eyes from the
paper, "allow me to observe, that the rules of your establishment
are a little inconvenient to travellers: I have been here above a
quarter of an hour, and have not been able to get so much as a glass
of brandy-and-water--bring one immediately--hot; and let me know what
you have got for dinner."
"I really beg your pardon," said old Mr. ----, as soon as he could
find words; "I really beg your pardon, but I am quite at a loss----"
"So am I, my good man--for a glass of brandy-and-water--bring that,
and another for yourself, and then I shall be happy to hear whatever
you have to say."
"But, sir, you must permit me to state----"
"I was never in such a detestable house in my life," exclaimed Hook,
starting up; "what do you stand chattering there for, instead of
attending to my order: am I to be kept here starving all night? Bring
the brandy-and-water, d'ye hear?"
The old gentleman was struck positively speechless; his face purpled,
he seemed in imminent peril of choking with the sudden conflux of
ire, indignation, and astonishment.
"Why, the fellow's drunk!" pursued Theodore; "disgracefully drunk,
at this time of day! and in his own parlour, too! I shall feel it my
duty, sir, to lay a statement of this inexcusable conduct before the
bench."
Mr. ---- sprang to the bell. "John--Thomas--turn this impudent
scoundrel out of the house!"
The arrival of the servants necessarily led to an explanation.
Nothing could exceed Mr. Hook's regret; what could be done? what
apology could be made? He was a perfect stranger to Sunbury; had
been directed to the "Flower Pot," as the inn affording the best
accommodation; and, on seeing what he imagined to be a gigantic
representation of the sign in question at the garden-gate, he had
naturally entered, and acted upon that erroneous impression. This
was the unkindest cut of all. To find a stranger reclining in full
possession of his sofa and slippers was bad enough; to be treated as
a dilatory innkeeper was worse; and to be taxed with insolence and
intoxication, was still more trying to a gentleman of respectable
character and excitable nerves; but to hear the highest achievement
of art he possessed--the admiration of himself and friends, and
the envy of all Sunbury, his darling vase, compared with which the
"Warwick" and the "Barberini" were as common washpots--to hear
this likened to an alehouse sign, was a humiliation which dwarfed
into insignificance all preceding insults. But as to whether Hook
contrived to soothe the anger he had provoked, and to win a way,
as was his wont, into the good graces of his victim--or whether
this last affront proved irremediable, and he was compelled to seek
further entertainment for himself and horse at the "Flower Pot"
minor, unfortunately our informant is at fault.
CHARLES MATHEWS AND HOOK.
It was about the year 1803 that my husband first became intimate with
Mr. Theodore Hook. The election for Westminster had recently taken
place, and Mr. Sheridan was chosen one of its representatives, on
which occasion the actors of Drury Lane celebrated their proprietor's
triumph, by giving him a dinner at the Piazza coffee-house. To this
dinner Mr. Hook was invited.
In the course of the day many persons sung, and Mr. Hook being
in turn solicited, displayed, to the delight and surprise of all
present, his wondrous talent in extemporaneous singing. The company
was numerous, and generally strangers to Mr. Hook; but, without a
moment's premeditation, he composed a verse upon every person in
the room, full of the most pointed wit, and with the truest rhymes,
unhesitatingly gathering into his subject, as he rapidly proceeded,
in addition to what had passed during the dinner, every trivial
incident of the moment. Every action was turned to account; every
circumstance, the look, the gesture, or any other accidental effects,
served as occasion for more wit; and even the singer's ignorance of
the names and condition of many of the party seemed to give greater
facility to his brilliant hits than even acquaintance with them might
have furnished. Mr. Sheridan was astonished at his extraordinary
faculty, and declared that he could not have imagined such power
possible, had he not witnessed it. No description, he said, could
have convinced him of so peculiar an instance of genius, and he
protested that he should not have believed it to be an unstudied
effort, had he not seen proof that no anticipation could have been
formed of what might arise to furnish matter and opportunities for
the exercise of this rare talent.--_Memoirs of Charles Mathews,
Comedian, by Mrs. Mathews._ Lond. 1838.
HOOK'S "FIRST APPEARANCE."
It was on the evening of Monday, January 30th, 1809, at the "Grange
Theatre," that Mr. Theodore Hook, then a slim youth of fine figure,
his head covered with black clustering curls, made his "first
appearance upon any stage," and in no instance do I remember a more
decided case of what is called stage-fright. He had been as bold and
easy during the rehearsals as if he had been a practised stager. All
the novices seemed fluttered but himself; but when he entered at
night as _Sir Callaghan O'Brallaghan_, the Irish officer, in "Love
à la Mode," he turned pale at the first sight of the audience, and
exhibited such palpable terror, that I almost supported him on my
arm; his frame shook, his voice failed him, and not a word of his
first scene, nor a note of the song he attempted at the piano-forte
(which he had sung so well in the morning), were audible to anybody
but myself.
It was curious to see a person of Mr. Hook's wondrous nerve
and self-possession suddenly subdued in such a way, at a mere
_make-believe_ in a room, containing only friends--invulnerable as
he was to fear in all things else! He recovered, however, before
the piece concluded, and afterwards acted _Vapour_ in the farce of
"My Grandmother," imitating Mr. Farley excellently; and a character
in an admirable burlesque tragedy of his own writing, called
"Ass-ass-ination," previously to which he hoaxed the audience with
a prologue, purposely unintelligible, but speciously delivered; the
first and last word of each line were only to be distinguished,
bearing in them all the _cant_ and _rhymes_ of such addresses (some
heard and others guessed at, as the speaker's ingenuity served, for
of course all was extempore). At the close of this, great applause
followed; and one elderly, important gentleman was heard to whisper
to another sitting next him, "An excellent prologue, but abominably
inarticulate!"
HOOK AND DOWTON THE ACTOR.
On one occasion poor Dowton was well-nigh frightened from his
propriety by the sudden appearance of his young friend upon the
stage, who, in appropriate costume, and with an ultra-melodramatic
strut, advanced in place of the regular walking gentleman to offer
him a letter. At another, during the heat of a contested Westminster
election, the whole house was electrified by a solemn cry, proceeding
apparently from the fiend in the "Wood Demon," of "SHE-RI-DAN
FOR E-VER!" and uttered in the deepest bass the speaking-trumpet
was capable of producing. This last piece of facetiousness was
rather seriously resented by Graham, one of the proprietors of the
Haymarket, who threatened its perpetrator with perpetual suspension
of his "privilege," and it required all the interest of influential
friends, backed by an ample apology on the part of the culprit, who
promised the most strict observance of decorum for the future, to
obtain a reversal of the decree.
LETTER FROM MAURITIUS.
From "La Réduit, Mauritius," under date March 24, 1814, Theodore Hook
addressed the following humorous letter to Charles Mathews:--
"MY DEAR MATHEWS,--Uninteresting as a letter must be from an
individual in a little African island, to you who are at the very
head-quarters and emporium of news and gaiety, I shall risk annoying
you and write, begging you to take along with you that the stupidity
of my epistle proceeds in a great measure from the dearth of anything
worth the name of intelligence; for if I had anything to say, say it
I would.
"I have received so much powerful assistance from your public
talents in my short dramatic career, and have enjoyed so very many
pleasant hours in your private society, that I feel a great pride and
gratification from this distance, where flattery cannot be suspected,
nor interested motives attach themselves to praise, to express how
warmly I feel and how I appreciate both your exertions and your
powers.
"You have read enough of this island, I daresay, not to imagine
that we live in huts on the sea-coast, or that, like our gallant
forefathers, we paint ourselves blue, and vote pantaloons a
prejudice. We are here surrounded by every luxury which art can
furnish, or dissipation suggest, in a climate the most delightful,
in a country the most beautiful, society the most gay, and pursuits
the most fascinating.
"This is, by heavens, a Paradise, and not without angels. The
women are all handsome (not so handsome as English women), all
accomplished, their manners extremely good, wit brilliant, and
good-nature wonderful; this is picking out the best! The "οι πολλοι,"
as we say at Oxford, are, if I may use the word, mindless--all
blank--dance like devils, and better than any people, for, like all
fools, they are fond of it, and naturally excel in proportion to
their mental debility; for the greater the fool the better the dancer.
"In short, the whole island is like fairy-land; every hour seems
happier than the last; the mildness of the air (the sweetness of
which, as it passes over spice-plantations and orange-groves, is
hardly conceivable), the clearness of the atmosphere, the coolness
of the evenings, and the loveliness of the place itself, all combine
to render it fascination. The very thought of ever quitting it is
like the apprehension of the death or long parting with some near
relation, and if it were not that this feeling is counteracted by
having some friends at home, there is no inducement that would draw
me from such a perfect _Thule_.
"Make my kind remembrances to Mrs. Mathews, and tell her that I hope
to shake hands with her when we are both twaddlers--that is, when she
is as much of a twaddler as old age can make her; and that when I
return upon crutches from foreign parts, I trust she will direct her
_son_ to pay me every attention due to my infirmities.
"We have operas in the winter, which sets in about July; our
races, too, begin in July; we have an excellent beef-steak club,
and the best Freemasons' lodge in the world. We have subscription
concerts, and balls, and the parties in private houses here are
seldom less than from two to three hundred. At the last ball given
at the Government-house, upwards of seven hundred and fifty ladies
were present, which, considering that the greater proportion of
the female population are _not admissible_, proves the number of
inhabitants, and the extent of the society.
"Pshaw! my letter is all about myself. Egotism from beginning to end.
Like Argus, there are at least an hundred I's in it. Well, damn my
I's, I will substitute the other vowel, and assure you that, although
at this distance, I am sincerely and truly yours, and that you will
find even in Maurit_ius_ U and I are not far asunder.
"I daresay some of my fat-headed friends in that little island where
the beef grows fancy that I am making a fortune, considering that I
am Treasurer! and Accountant-general! Fresh butter, my dear fellow,
is ten shillings per pound; a coat costs thirty pounds English; a
pair of gloves, fifteen shillings; a bottle of claret, the best,
ten pence; and pine-apples a penny a piece. Thus, you see, while
the articles necessary to existence are exorbitant, luxuries are
dirt cheap, and a pretty life we do lead. Breakfast at eight, always
up by gun-fire, five o'clock; bathe and ride before breakfast,
after breakfast lounge about; at one have a regular meal, yclep'd
a tiffen--hot meats, vegetables, &c.--and at this we sit generally
through the heat of the day, drinking our wine, and munching our
fruit; at five, or half-past, the carriages come to the door, and
we go either in them or in palanquins to dress, which operation
performed, we drive out to the race-ground, and through the Champ de
Mars, the Hyde Park here, till half-past six; come into town, and at
seven dine, where we remain till ten or eleven, and then join the
French parties, as there is regularly a ball somewhere or other every
night: these things, blended with business, make out the day and
evening."
EVADING A COACH FARE.
Everybody has heard of the ingenious manner in which Sheridan
evaded payment of a considerable sum for coach-hire, by inveigling
Richardson into the vehicle, getting up a quarrel, no very difficult
matter, then jumping out in disgust, and leaving his irritable friend
to recover his composure and pay the fare. Hook, who, like all men
of genius, augmented the resources of his own wit by a judicious
borrowing from that of others, seems to have caught at this idea when
once, under similar circumstances, he found himself, after a long
and agreeable ride, without money to satisfy the coachman--a friend
happened to be passing--he was hailed and taken up--but unfortunately
proved to be, on inquiry, as unprepared for any pecuniary transaction
as Theodore himself. A dull copyist would have broken down at once;
but with a promptitude and felicity of conception that amply redeem
the plagiarism, with whatever else he may be left chargeable, Hook
pulled the check-string and bade the driver proceed as rapidly as
possible to No. --, ---- Street, at the West End of the town, the
residence of a well-known "surgeon, &c." Arrived, he ordered the
coachman to "knock and ring," as desired, with energy, and on the
door opening, told his friend to follow, and hastily entered the
house. "Mr. ----, is he at home? I must see him immediately!" Mr.
---- soon made his appearance, when Hook, in an agitated and hurried
tone, commenced:--
"My dear sir, I trust you are disengaged!" Mr. ---- bowed; "he
was disengaged." "Thank Heaven!--pardon my incoherence, sir--make
allowance for the feelings of a husband--_perhaps a father_--your
attendance, sir, is instantly required--_instantly_--by Mrs. ----,
No. --, &c., pray lose not a moment; it is a _very_ peculiar case, I
assure you."
"I will start directly," replied the medical man; "I have only to run
upstairs, get my apparatus, and step into my carriage."
"Ah! exactly," returned Hook; "but I am in agony till I see you
fairly off--don't think of ordering out your own carriage--here's one
at the door--jump into that."
Mr. ----, with a great mahogany case under his arm, made the jump,
and quickly found himself at the house to which he had been directed:
it was the abode of a very stiff-mannered, middle-aged maiden lady,
not unknown to Hook; one, moreover, to whom he owed a grudge, a kind
of debt he rarely failed to pay. The doctor was admitted, but on
explaining the object of his visit, soon found it convenient to make
a precipitate retreat from the claws of the infuriate spinster into
the arms of the hackney-coachman, who deposited him in safety at
his own door, which, however, he declined quitting without the full
amount of his fare.
UNSUCCESSFUL HUNT FOR A DINNER.
Theodore Hook thus writes to Charles Mathews from the "Prince of
Wales's Coffee House, 8 o'clock, September 21st, 1825:"--
"DEAR MAT.,--I never went sporting for a dinner that I bagged my
bird in my life. Broderip asked me to dine with him to-day, and
went out and forgot it; so, I said to myself, says I, I want to ask
Mat., or Mrs. Mat., two questions about Charles's 'Trip to Rome.'
So on, says I, I'll go to Millfield Lane. I did. On my way I forgot
why Broderip forgot _his_ engagement;--natural enough--modern
Aristophanes--beautiful view--charming grounds--pleasant
company,--poor me, of course, rejected. Well, up I _goes_. Man with
powder and an apron opens gate--expecting company--doesn't know
whether Mr. Mathews is at home or no--goes to see--good butler, but
cannot lie steadily; so out comes a woman. Satire on the sex to
think they have more composure than man in a quandary.--Master not
at home.--Novelty, says I, Mathews _at Home_, anybody can see: but,
to see Mat. not at home, is not to be bought. 'Thank you, ma'am,'
says I; and downhill I tumbled. At its foot, _ex pede_, I discovered
(not _Herculem_) but the reason why you chose to deny yourself. Why
didn't you come out and speak? I most ardently eschew your mutton,
beef, veal, and ham. I only wanted three words of you.--That's your
affair. Now, thinks I, Broderip has cut me, and Mathews has denied
himself, I'll go and dine with Nash. Nash dined _out_, waiting for
the great gentleman from _Berkshire_. I called upon Lyon (_James_),
but, like his namesake, he had _abdicated_. Met Sir Hudson Lowe--did
not ask me; called at Elliott's--_they_ dined _out_; so I damned my
fate, and ordered dinner at seven here, and here I am; and so I will
punish your long legs with a threepenny. Write to me, or ask Mrs.
Mat. to write, and tell me of the name of the _tune_ of 'The Trip to
Rome,' which it is essential to know; and, if she can furnish me with
the _second_ verse _complete_, I should be obliged, for Charles has
sent only half the stanza.
"Despatch in all this is important: it is a very, _very_ clever
production, and Charles _shall_ be, what I am sure he _will_, an
honour and a blessing to you both; and so I, in the dumps as I am,
pray he may."
HOOK AT LORD MELVILLE'S TRIAL.
On the occasion of Lord Melville's trial, Theodore Hook was present
with a friend.
They went early, and were engaged in conversation when the Peers
began to enter. At this moment a country-looking lady, whom he
afterwards found to be a resident at Rye, in Sussex, touched his
arm, and said: "I beg your pardon, sir, but pray who are those
gentlemen in red now coming in?" "Those, ma'am," returned Theodore,
"are the Barons of England; in these cases the junior peers always
come first." "Thank you, sir, much obliged to you. Louisa, my dear
(turning to a girl about fourteen), tell Jane (about ten), those are
the Barons of England; and the juniors (that's the youngest, you
know,) always goes first. Tell her to be sure and remember that when
we get home." "Dear me, ma!" said Louisa, "can that gentleman be
one of the _youngest_? I am sure he looks very old." Human nature,
added Hook, could not stand this; any one, though with no more
mischief in him than a dove, must have been excited to a hoax. "And
pray, sir," continued the lady, "what gentlemen are those?" pointing
to the Bishops, who came next in order, in the dress which they
wear on state occasions, viz., the scarlet and lawn sleeves over
their doctors' robes. "Gentlemen, ma'am!" said Hook, "those are not
gentlemen; those are _ladies_, elderly ladies--the Dowager Peeresses
in their own right." The fair inquirer fixed a penetrating glance
upon his countenance, saying, as plainly as an eye can say, "Are
you quizzing me or no?" Not a muscle moved; till at last, tolerably
satisfied with her scrutiny, she turned round and whispered, "Louisa,
dear, the gentleman _says_ that these are elderly ladies, and Dowager
Peeresses in their own right; tell Jane not to forget _that_!" All
went on smoothly till the Speaker of the House of Commons attracted
her attention by the rich embroidery of his robes. "Pray, sir,"
said she, "and who is that fine-looking person opposite?" "That,
madam," was the answer, "is Cardinal Wolsey!" "No, sir!" cried the
lady, drawing herself up, and casting at her informant a look of
angry disdain, "we knows a little better than that; Cardinal Wolsey
has been dead many a good year!" "No such thing, my dear madam, I
assure you," replied Hook, with a gravity that must have been almost
preternatural; "it has been, I know, so reported in the country, but
without the least foundation; in fact, those rascally newspapers
will say anything." The good old gentlewoman appeared thunderstruck,
opened her eyes to their full extent, and gasped like a dying carp;
_vox faucibus hæsit_, seizing a daughter with each hand, she hurried
without a word from the spot.--_Ingoldsby Legends_, 3rd series, p.
69.
THE THIRTY-NINE ARTICLES.
Hook had been entered at St. Mary's Hall: his friends would have
preferred a residence at Exeter College, but to this, as entailing
a somewhat more strict observance of discipline than was compatible
with his habits, he himself positively objected. A compromise was
effected, and he was placed under the charge of his brother, and
presented by him to the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Parsons, Head of
Balliol, and afterwards Bishop of Peterborough, for matriculation.
The ceremony was well-nigh stopped _in limine_, in consequence of
an ill-timed piece of facetiousness on the part of the candidate.
On being asked if he was prepared to subscribe to the Thirty-nine
Articles:
"Oh, certainly, sir," replied Theodore; "_forty, if you please_."[77]
The horror of the Vice-Chancellor may be imagined. The young
gentleman was desired to withdraw; and it required all the interest
of his brother, who fortunately happened to be a personal friend of
Dr. Parsons, to induce the latter to overlook the offence. The joke,
such as it is, was probably picked out of one of Foote's farces,
who makes Mrs. Simony, if we mistake not, say, when speaking of her
husband the Doctor (intended for the unfortunate Dr. Dodd), "He
believes in all the Thirty-nine Articles; ay, and so he would if
there were forty of them."--_Barham._
"CHAFFING" A PROCTOR.
On the evening of Hook's arrival at the University, he contrived to
give his brother the slip, and joined a party of old schoolfellows
in a carouse at one of the taverns. Sundry bowls of "Bishop," and
of a popular compound yclept "Egg-flip"--the Cambridge men call it
"Silky," to the _nondum graduati_ of Oxford it is known by a _nomen
accidentale_ which we have forgotten,--having been discussed; songs,
amatory and Bacchanalian, having been sung with full choruses; and
altogether the jocularity having begun to pass "the limit of becoming
mirth," the Proctor made his appearance; and, advancing to the table
at which the "Freshman"--fresh in every sense of the word--was
presiding, put the usual question,--
"Pray, sir, are you a member of this University?"