The shady side of Cheapside had become a luxury, and footmen in red
plush breeches objects of real commiseration, when Mr. Jorrocks,
tired of the heat and "ungrateful hurry of the town," resolved upon
undertaking an aquatic excursion. He was sitting, as is "his custom
always in the afternoon," in the arbour at the farther end of his gravel
walk, which he dignifies by the name of "garden," and had just finished
a rough mental calculation, as to whether he could eat more bread spread
with jam or honey, when the idea of the jaunt entered his imagination.
Being a man of great decision, he speedily winnowed the project over
in his mind, and producing a five-pound note from the fob of his small
clothes, passed it in review between his fingers, rubbed out the
creases, held it up to the light, refolded and restored it to his fob.
"Batsay," cried he, "bring my castor--the white one as hangs next the
blue cloak;" and forthwith a rough-napped, unshorn-looking, white hat
was transferred from the peg to Mr. Jorrocks's head. This done, he
proceeded to the "Piazza," where he found the Yorkshireman exercising
himself up and down the spacious coffee-room, and, grasping his hand
with the firmness of a vice, he forthwith began unburthening himself of
the object of his mission. "'Ow are you?" said he, shaking his arm like
the handle of a pump. "'Ow are you, I say?--I'm so delighted to see you,
ye carn't think--isn't this charming weather! It makes me feel like a
butterfly--really think the 'air is sprouting under my vig." Here he
took off his wig and rubbed his hand over his bald head, as though he
were feeling for the shoots.
"Now to business--Mrs. J---- is away at Tooting, as you perhaps knows,
and I'm all alone in Great Coram Street, with the key of the cellar,
larder, and all that sort of thing, and I've a werry great mind to be
off on a jaunt--what say you?" "Not the slightest objection," replied
the Yorkshireman, "on the old principle of you finding cash, and me
finding company." "Why, now I'll tell you, werry honestly, that I should
greatly prefer your paying your own shot; but, however, if you've a mind
to do as I do, I'll let you stand in the half of a five-pound note and
whatever silver I have in my pocket," pulling out a great handful as he
spoke, and counting up thirty-two and sixpence. "Very good," replied
the Yorkshireman when he had finished, "I'm your man;--and not to be
behindhand in point of liberality, I've got threepence that I received
in change at the cigar divan just now, which I will add to the common
stock, so that we shall have six pounds twelve and ninepence between
us." "Between us!" exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, "now that's so like a
Yorkshireman. I declare you Northerns seem to think all the world are
asleep except yourselves;--howsomever, I von't quarrel with you--you're
a goodish sort of chap in your way, and so long as I keep the swag,
we carn't get far wrong. Well, then, to-morrow at two we'll start for
Margate--the most delightful place in all the world, where we will have
a rare jollification, and can stay just as long as the money holds
out. So now good-bye--I'm off home again to see about wittles for the
woyage."
It were almost superfluous to mention that the following day was a
Saturday--for no discreet citizen would think of leaving town on any
other. It dawned with uncommon splendour, and the cocks of Coram Street
and adjacent parts seemed to hail the morn with more than their wonted
energy. Never, save on a hunting morning, did Mr. Jorrocks tumble about
in bed with such restless anxiety as cock after cock took up the crow
in every gradation of noise from the shrill note of the free
street-scouring chanticleer before the door, to the faint response of
the cooped and prisoned victims of the neighbouring poulterer's, their
efforts being aided by the flutterings and impertinent chirruping of
swarms of town-bred sparrows.
At length the boy, Binjimin, tapped at his master's door, and,
depositing his can of shaving-water on his dressing-table, took away his
coat and waistcoat, under pretence of brushing them, but in reality to
feel if he had left any pence in the pockets. With pleasure Mr. Jorrocks
threw aside the bed-clothes, and bounded upon the floor with a bump that
shook his own and adjoining houses. On this day a few extra minutes were
devoted to his toilet, one or two of which were expended in adjusting a
gold foxhead pin in a conspicuous part of his white tie, and in drawing
on a pair of new dark blue stocking-net pantaloons, made so excessively
tight, that at starting, any of his Newmarket friends would have laid
three to two against his ever getting into them at all. When on,
however, they fully developed the substantial proportions of his
well-rounded limbs, while his large tasselled Hessians showed that the
bootmaker had been instructed to make a pair for a "great calf." A
blue coat, with metal buttons, ample laps, and pockets outside, with a
handsome buff kerseymere waistcoat, formed his costume on this occasion.
Breakfast being over, he repaired to St. Botolph Lane, there to see his
letters and look after his commercial affairs; in which the reader not
being interested, we will allow the Yorkshireman to figure a little.
About half-past one this enterprising young man placed himself in Tommy
Sly's wherry at the foot of the Savoy stairs, and not agreeing in
opinion with Mr. Jorrocks that it is of "no use keeping a dog and
barking oneself," he took an oar and helped to row himself down to
London Bridge. At the wharf below the bridge there lay a magnificent
steamer, painted pea-green and white, with flags flying from her masts,
and the deck swarming with smart bonnets and bodices. Her name was the
_Royal Adelaide_, from which the sagacious reader will infer that this
excursion was made during the late reign. The Yorkshireman and Tommy
Sly having wormed their way among the boats, were at length brought up
within one of the vessels, and after lying on their oars a few seconds,
they were attracted by, "Now, sir, are you going to sleep there?"
addressed to a rival nautical whose boat obstructed the way, and on
looking up on deck what a sight burst upon the Yorkshireman's astonished
vision!--Mr. Jorrocks, with his coat off, and a fine green velvet cap or
turban, with a broad gold band and tassel, on his head, hoisting a
great hamper out of the wherry, rejecting all offers of assistance,
and treating the laughter and jeers of the porters and bystanders with
ineffable contempt. At length he placed the load to his liking, and
putting on his coat, adjusted his hunting telescope, and advanced to the
side, as the Yorkshireman mounted the step-ladder and came upon deck.
"Werry near being over late," said he, pulling out his watch, just at
which moment the last bell rang, and a few strokes of the paddles sent
the vessel away from the quay. "A miss is as good as a mile," replied
the Yorkshireman; "but pray what have you got in the hamper?"
"In the 'amper! Why, wittles to be sure. You seem to forget we are going
a woyage, and 'ow keen the sea hair is. I've brought a knuckle of weal,
half a ham, beef, sarsingers, chickens, sherry white, and all that sort
of thing, and werry acceptable they'll be by the time we get to the
Nore, or may be before."
"Ease her! Stop her!" cried the captain through his trumpet, just as
the vessel was getting into her stride in mid-stream, and, with true
curiosity, the passengers flocked to the side, to see who was coming,
though they could not possibly have examined half they had on board.
Mr. Jorrocks, of course, was not behindhand in inquisitiveness, and
proceeded to adjust his telescope. A wherry was seen rowing among the
craft, containing the boatman, and a gentleman in a woolly white hat,
with a bright pea-green coat, and a basket on his knee. "By jingo,
here's Jemmy Green!" exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, taking his telescope from
his eye, and giving his thigh a hearty slap. "How unkimmon lucky! The
werry man of all others I should most like to see. You know James Green,
don't you?" addressing the Yorkshireman--"young James Green, junior,
of Tooley Street--everybody knows him--most agreeable young man in
Christendom--fine warbler--beautiful dancer--everything that a young man
should be."
"How are you James?" cried Jorrocks, seizing him by the hand as his
friend stepped upon deck; but whether it was the nervousness occasioned
by the rocking of the wherry, or the shaking of the step-ladder up the
side of the steamer, or Mr. Jorrocks's new turban cap, but Mr. Green,
with an old-maidish reserve, drew back from the proffered embrace of his
friend. "You have the adwantage of me, sir," said he, fidgeting back
as he spoke, and eyeing Mr. Jorrocks with unmeasured surprise--"Yet
stay--if I'm not deceived it's Mr. Jorrocks--so it is!" and thereupon
they joined hands most cordially, amid exclamations of, "'Ow are you,
J----?" '"Ow are you, G----?" "'Ow are you, J----?" "So glad to see you,
J----" "So glad to see you, G----" "So glad to see you, J----" "And pray
what may you have in your basket?" inquired Mr. Jorrocks, putting his
hand to the bottom of a neat little green-and-white willow woman's
basket, apparently for the purpose of ascertaining its weight. "Only my
clothes, and a little prowision for the woyage. A baked pigeon, some
cold maccaroni, and a few pectoral lozenges. At the bottom are my
Margate shoes, with a comb in one, and a razor in t'other; then comes
the prog, and at the top, I've a dickey and a clean front for to-morrow.
I abominates travelling with much luggage. Where, I ax, is the use of
carrying nightcaps, when the innkeepers always prowide them, without
extra charge? The same with regard to soap. Shave, I say, with what you
find in your tray. A wet towel makes an excellent tooth-brush, and a
pen-knife both cuts and cleans your nails. Perhaps you'll present
your friend to me," added he in the same breath, with a glance at the
Yorkshireman, upon whose arm Mr. Jorrocks was resting his telescope
hand. "Much pleasure," replied Mr. Jorrocks, with his usual urbanity.
"Allow me to introduce Mr. Stubbs, Mr. Green, Mr. Green, Mr. Stubbs: now
pray shake hands," added he, "for I'm sure you'll be werry fond of each
other"; and thereupon Jemmy, in the most patronising manner, extended
his two forefingers to the Yorkshireman, who presented him with one in
return. For the information of such of our readers as may never have
seen Mr. James Green, senior junior, either in Tooley Street, Southwark,
where the patronymic name abounds, or at Messrs. Tattersall's, where he
generally exhibits on a Monday afternoon, we may premise, that though a
little man in stature, he is a great man in mind and a great swell in
costume. On the present occasion, as already stated, he had on a woolly
white hat, his usual pea-green coat, with a fine, false, four-frilled
front to his shirt, embroidered, plaited, and puckered, like a lady's
habit-shirt. Down the front were three or four different sorts of studs,
and a butterfly brooch, made of various coloured glasses, sat in
the centre. His cravat was of a yellow silk with a flowered border,
confining gills sharp and pointed that looked up his nostrils; his
double-breasted waistcoat was of red and yellow tartan with blue glass
post-boy buttons; and his trousers, which were very wide and cut out
over the foot of rusty-black chamois-leather opera-boots, were of a
broad blue stripe upon a white ground. A curly, bushy, sandy-coloured
wig protruded from the sides of his woolly white hat, and shaded a
vacant countenance, which formed the frontispiece of a great chuckle
head. Sky-blue gloves and a stout cane, with large tassels, completed
the rigging of this borough dandy. Altogether he was as fine as any
peacock, and as vain as the proudest.
"And 'ow is Mrs. J----?" inquired Green with the utmost affability--"I
hopes she's uncommon well--pray, is she of your party?" looking round.
"Why, no," replied Mr. Jorrocks, "she's off at Tooting at her mother's,
and I'm just away, on the sly, to stay a five-pound at Margate this
delightful weather. 'Ow long do you remain?" "Oh, only till Monday
morning--I goes every Saturday; in fact," added he in an undertone,
"I've a season ticket, so I may just as well use it, as stay poking in
Tooley Street with the old folks, who really are so uncommon glumpy,
that it's quite refreshing to get away from them."
"That's a pity," replied Mr. Jorrocks, with one of his benevolent looks.
"But 'ow comes it, James, you are not married? You are not a bouy now,
and should be looking out for a home of your own." "True, my dear
J----, true," replied Mr. Green; "and I'll tell you wot, our principal
book-keeper and I have made many calculations on the subject, and being
a man of literature like yourself, he gave it as his opinion the last
time we talked the matter over, that it would only be avoiding Silly and
running into Crab-beds; which I presume means Quod or the Bench. Unless
he can have a wife 'made to order,' he says he'll never wed. Besides,
the women are such a bothersome encroaching set. I declare I'm so
pestered with them that I don't know vich vay to turn. They are always
tormenting of me. Only last week one sent me a specification of what
she'd marry me for, and I declare her dress, alone, came to more than I
have to find myself in clothes, ball-and concert-tickets, keep an 'oss,
go to theatres, buy lozenges, letter-paper, and everything else with.
There were bumbazeens, and challies, and merinos, and crape, and gauze,
and dimity, and caps, bonnets, stockings, shoes, boots, rigids, stays,
ringlets; and, would you believe it, she had the unspeakable audacity to
include a bustle! It was the most monstrous specification and proposal
I ever read, and I returned it by the twopenny post, axing her if she
hadn't forgotten to include a set of false teeth. Still, I confess, I'm
tired of Tooley Street. I feel that I have a soul above hemp, and was
intended for a brighter sphere; but vot can one do, cooped up at home
without men of henergy for companions? No prospect of improvement
either; for I left our old gentleman alarmingly well just now, pulling
about the flax and tow, as though his dinner depended upon his
exertions. I think if the women would let me alone, I might have some
chance, but it worries a man of sensibility and refinement to have them
always tormenting of one.--I've no objection to be led, but, dash my
buttons, I von't be driven." "Certainly not," replied Mr. Jorrocks, with
great gravity, jingling the silver in his breeches-pocket. "It's an old
saying, James, and times proves it true, that you may take an 'oss to
the water but you carn't make him drink--and talking of 'osses, pray,
how are you off in that line?" "Oh, werry well--uncommon, I may say--a
thoroughbred, bang tail down to the hocks, by Phantom, out of Baron
Munchausen's dam--gave a hatful of money for him at Tatts'.--five
fives--a deal of tin as times go. But he's a perfect 'oss, I assure
you--bright bay with four black legs, and never a white hair upon him.
He's touched in the vind, but that's nothing--I'm not a fox-hunter, you
know, Mr. Jorrocks; besides, I find the music he makes werry useful in
the streets, as a warning to the old happle women to get out of the way.
Pray, sir," turning to the Yorkshireman with a jerk, "do you dance?"--as
the boat band, consisting of a harp, a flute, a lute, a long horn, and
a short horn, struck up a quadrille,--and, without waiting for a reply,
our hero sidled past, and glided among the crowd that covered the deck.
"A fine young man, James," observed Mr. Jorrocks, eyeing Jemmy as he
elbowed his way down the boat--"fine young man--wants a little of his
father's ballast, but there's no putting old heads on young shoulders.
He's a beautiful dancer," added Mr. Jorrocks, putting his arm through
the Yorkshireman's, "let's go and see him foot it." Having worked their
way down, they at length got near the dancers, and mounting a ballast
box had a fine view of the quadrille. There were eight or ten couple at
work, and Jemmy had chosen a fat, dumpy, red-faced girl, in a bright
orange-coloured muslin gown, with black velvet Vandyked flounces, and
green boots--a sort of walking sunflower, with whom he was pointing his
toe, kicking out behind, and pirouetting with great energy and agility.
His male _vis-à-vis_ was a waistcoatless young Daniel Lambert, in white
ducks, and a blue dress-coat, with a carnation in his mouth, who with a
damsel in ten colours, reel'd to and fro in humble imitation. "Green
for ever!" cried Mr. Jorrocks, taking off his velvet cap and waving
it encouragingly over his head: "Green for ever! Go it Green!" and,
accordingly, Green went it with redoubled vigour. "Wiggins for ever!"
responded a female voice opposite, "I say, Wiggins!" which was followed
by a loud clapping of hands, as the fat gentleman made an astonishing
step. Each had his admiring applauders, though Wiggins "had the call"
among the ladies--the opposition voice that put him in nomination
proceeding from the mother of his partner, who, like her daughter, was a
sort of walking pattern book. The spirit of emulation lasted throughout
the quadrille, after which, sunflower in hand, Green traversed the deck
to receive the compliments of the company.
"You must be 'ungry," observed Mr. Jorrocks, with great politeness
to the lady, "after all your exertions," as the latter stood mopping
herself with a coarse linen handkerchief--"pray, James, bring your
partner to our 'amper, and let me offer her some refreshment," which was
one word for the Sunflower and two for himself, the sea breeze having
made Mr. Jorrocks what he called "unkimmon peckish." The hamper was
speedily opened, the knuckle of veal, the half ham, the aitch bone of
beef, the Dorking sausages (made in Drury Lane), the chickens, and
some dozen or two of plovers' eggs were exhibited, while Green, with
disinterested generosity, added his baked pigeon and cold maccaroni to
the common stock. A vigorous attack was speedily commenced, and was kept
up, with occasional interruptions by Green running away to dance, until
they hove in sight of Herne Bay, which caused an interruption to a
very interesting lecture on wines, that Mr. Jorrocks was in the act of
delivering, which went to prove that port and sherry were the parents of
all wines, port the father, and sherry the mother; and that Bluecellas,
hock, Burgundy, claret, Teneriffe, Madeira, were made by the addition
of water, vinegar, and a few chemical ingredients, and that of all
"humbugs," pale sherry was the greatest, being neither more nor less
than brown sherry watered. Mr. Jorrocks then set to work to pack up the
leavings in the hamper, observing as he proceeded, that wilful waste
brought woeful want, and that "waste not, want not," had ever been the
motto of the Jorrocks family.
It was nearly eight o'clock ere the _Royal Adelaide_ touched the point
of the far-famed Margate Jetty, a fact that was announced as well by the
usual bump, and scuttle to the side to get out first, as by the band
striking up _God save the King_, and the mate demanding the tickets of
the passengers. The sun had just dropped beneath the horizon, and the
gas-lights of the town had been considerately lighted to show him to
bed, for the day was yet in the full vigour of life and light.
Two or three other cargoes of cockneys having arrived before, the whole
place was in commotion, and the beach swarmed with spectators as anxious
to watch this last disembarkation as they had been to see the first. By
a salutary regulation of the sages who watch over the interests of the
town, "all manner of persons," are prohibited from walking upon the
jetty during this ceremony, but the platform of which it is composed
being very low, those who stand on the beach outside the rails, are just
about on a right level to shoot their impudence cleverly into the ears
of the new-comers who are paraded along two lines of gaping, quizzing,
laughing, joking, jeering citizens, who fire volleys of wit and satire
upon them as they pass. "There's leetle Jemmy Green again!" exclaimed a
nursery-maid with two fat, ruddy children in her arms, "he's a beauty
without paint!" "Hallo, Jorrocks, my hearty! lend us your hand," cried a
brother member of the Surrey Hunt. Then there was a pointing of fingers
and cries of "That's Jorrocks! that's Green!" "That's Green! that's
Jorrocks!" and a murmuring titter, and exclamations of "There's
Simpkins! how pretty he is!" "But there's Wiggins, who's much nicer."
"My eye, what a cauliflower hat Mrs. Thompson's got!" "What a buck young
Snooks is!" "What gummy legs that girl in green has!" "Miss Trotter's
bustle's on crooked!" from the young ladies at Miss Trimmer's seminary
who were drawn up to show the numerical strength of the academy, and act
the part of walking advertisements. These observations were speedily
drowned by the lusty lungs of a flyman bellowing out, as Green passed,
"Hallo! my young brockley-sprout, are you here again?--now then for
the tizzy you owe me,--I have been waiting here for it ever since last
Monday morning." This salute produced an irate look and a shake of his
cane from Green, with a mutter of something about "imperance," and a
wish that he had his big fighting foreman there to thrash him. When they
got to the gate at the end, the tide of fashion became obstructed by the
kissings of husbands and wives, the greetings of fathers and sons, the
officiousness of porters, the cries of flymen, the importunities of
innkeepers, the cards of bathing-women, the salutations of donkey
drivers, the programmes of librarians, and the rush and push of the
inquisitive; and the waters of "comers" and "stayers" mingled in one
common flood of indescribable confusion.
Mr. Jorrocks, who, hamper in hand, had elbowed his way with persevering
resignation, here found himself so beset with friends all anxious to
wring his digits, that, fearful of losing either his bed or his
friends, he besought Green to step on to the "White Hart" and see about
accommodation. Accordingly Green ran his fingers through the bushy
sides of his yellow wig, jerked up his gills, and with a _négligé_ air
strutted up to that inn, which, as all frequenters of Margate know,
stands near the landing-place, and commands a fine view of the harbour.
Mr. Creed, the landlord, was airing himself at the door, or, as
Shakespeare has it, "taking his ease at his inn," and knowing Green of
old to be a most unprofitable customer, he did not trouble to move
his position farther than just to draw up one leg so as not wholly to
obstruct the passage, and looked at him as much as to say "I prefer your
room to your company." "Quite full here, sir," said he, anticipating
Green's question. "Full, indeed?" replied Jemmy, pulling up his
gills--"that's werry awkward, Mr. Jorrocks has come down with myself and
a friend, and we want accommodation." "Mr. Jorrocks, indeed!" replied
Mr. Creed, altering his tone and manner; "I'm sure I shall be delighted
to receive Mr. Jorrocks--he's one of the oldest customers I have--and
one of the best--none of your 'glass of water and toothpick'
gentleman--real downright, black-strap man, likes it hot and strong from
the wood--always pays like a gentleman--never fights about three-pences,
like some people I know," looking at Jemmy. "Pray, what rooms may you
require?" "Vy, there's myself, Mr. Jorrocks, and Mr. Jorrocks's other
friend--three in all, and we shall want three good, hairy bedrooms."
"Well, I don't know," replied Mr. Creed, laughing, "about their
hairiness, but I can rub them with bear's grease for you." Jemmy pulled
up his gills and was about to reply, when Mr. Jorrocks's appearance
interrupted the dialogue. Mr. Creed advanced to receive him, blowing up
his porters for not having been down to carry up the hamper, which he
took himself and bore to the coffee-room, amid protestations of his
delight at seeing his worthy visitor.
Having talked over the changes of Margate, of those that were there,
those that were not, and those that were coming, and adverted to the
important topic of supper, Mr. Jorrocks took out his yellow and white
spotted handkerchief and proceeded to flop his Hessian boots, while Mr.
Creed, with his own hands, rubbed him over with a long billiard-table
brush. Green, too, put himself in form by the aid of the looking-glass,
and these preliminaries being adjusted, the trio sallied forth
arm-in-arm, Mr. Jorrocks occupying the centre. It was a fine, balmy
summer evening, the beetles and moths still buzzed and flickered in
the air, and the sea rippled against the shingly shore, with a low
indistinct murmur that scarcely sounded among the busy hum of men. The
shades of night were drawing on--a slight mist hung about the hills, and
a silvery moon shed a broad brilliant ray upon the quivering waters "of
the dark blue sea," and an equal light over the wide expanse of the
troubled town. How strange that man should leave the quiet scenes of
nature, to mix in myriads of those they profess to quit cities to avoid!
One turn to the shore, and the gas-lights of the town drew back the
party like moths to the streets, which were literally swarming with
the population. "Cheapside, at three o'clock in the afternoon," as Mr.
Jorrocks observed, was never fuller than Margate streets that evening.
All was lighted up--all brilliant and all gay--care seemed banished
from every countenance, and pretty faces and smart gowns reigned in its
stead. Mr. Jorrocks met with friends and acquaintances at every turn,
most of whom asked "when he came?" and "when he was going away?" Having
perambulated the streets, the sound of music attracted Jemmy Green's
attention, and our party turned into a long, crowded and brilliantly
lighted bazaar, just as the last notes of a barrel-organ at the far end
faded away, and a young woman in a hat and feathers, with a swan's-down
muff and tippet, was handed by a very smart young man in dirty white
Berlin gloves, and an equally soiled white waistcoat, into a sort of
orchestra above where, after the plaudits of the company had subsided,
she struck-up:
"If I had a donkey vot vouldn't go."
At the conclusion of the song, and before the company had time to
disperse, the same smart young gentleman,--having rehanded the young
lady from the orchestra and pocketed his gloves,--ran his fingers
through his hair, and announced from that eminence, that the spirited
proprietors of the Bazaar were then going to offer for public
competition in the enterprising shape of a raffle, in tickets, at one
shilling each, a most magnificently genteel, rosewood, general perfume
box fitted up with cedar and lined with red silk velvet, adorned with
cut-steel clasps at the sides, and a solid, massive, silver name-plate
at the top, with a best patent Bramah lock and six chaste and
beautifully rich cut-glass bottles, and a plate-glass mirror at the
top--a box so splendidly perfect, so beautifully unique, as alike
to defy the powers of praise and the critiques of the envious; and
thereupon he produced a flashy sort of thing that might be worth three
and sixpence, for which he modestly required ten subscribers, at a
shilling each, adding, "that even with that number the proprietors would
incur a werry heavy loss, for which nothing but a boundless sense of
gratitude for favours past could possibly recompense them." The youth's
eloquence and the glitter of the box reflecting, as it did at every
turn, the gas-lights both in its steel and glass, had the desired
effect--shillings went down, and tickets went off rapidly, until
only three remained. "Four, five, and ten, are the only numbers now
remaining," observed the youth, running his eye up the list and wetting
his pencil in his mouth. "Four, five and ten! ten, four, five! five,
four, ten! are the only numbers now vacant for this werry genteel and
magnificent rosewood perfume-box, lined with red velvet, cut-steel
clasps, a silver plate for the name, best patent Bramah lock, and six
beautiful rich cut-glass bottles, with a plate glass mirror in the
lid--and only four, five, and ten now vacant!" "I'll take ten," said
Green, laying down a shilling. "Thank you, sir--only four and five now
wanting, ladies and gentlemen--pray, be in time--pray, be in time! This
is without exception the most brilliant prize ever offered for public
competition. There were only two of these werry elegant boxes made,--the
unfortunate mechanic who executed them being carried off by that
terrible malady, the cholera morbus,--and the other is now in the
possession of his most Christian Majesty the King of the French. Only
four and five wanting to commence throwing for this really perfect
specimen of human ingenuity--only four and five!" "I'll take them,"
cried Green, throwing down two shillings more--and then the table was
cleared--the dice box produced, and the crowd drew round. "Number
one!--who holds number one?" inquired the keeper, arranging the paper,
and sucking the end of his pencil. A young gentleman in a blue jacket
and white trousers owned the lot, and, accordingly, led off the game.
The lottery-keeper handed the box, and put in the dice--rattle, rattle,
rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, plop, and lift up--"seven and four are
eleven"--"now again, if you please, sir," putting the dice into the
box--rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, plop, and
lift up--a loud laugh--"one and two make three"--the youth bit his
lips;--rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, plop--a
pause--and lift up--"threes!"--"six, three, and eleven, are twenty."
"Now who holds number two?--what lady or gentleman holds number two?
Pray, step forward!" The Sunflower drew near--Green looked confused--she
fixed her eye upon him, half in fear, half in entreaty--would he offer
to throw for her? No, by Jove, Green was not so green as all that came
to, and he let her shake herself. She threw twenty-two, thereby putting
an extinguisher on the boy, and raising Jemmy's chance considerably.
"Three" was held by a youngster in nankeen petticoats, who would
throw for himself, and shook the box violently enough to be heard at
Broadstairs. He scored nineteen, and, beginning to cry immediately, was
taken home. Green was next, and all eyes turned upon him, for he was a
noted hand. He advanced to the table with great sangfroid, and, turning
back the wrists of his coat, exhibited his beautiful sparkling paste
shirt buttons, and the elegant turn of his taper hand, the middle finger
of which was covered with massive rings. He took the box in a _négligé_
manner, and without condescending to shake it, slid the dice out upon
the table by a gentle sideway motion--"sixes!" cried all, and down the
marker put twelve. At the second throw, he adopted another mode. As soon
as the dice were in, he just chucked them up in the air like as many
halfpence, and down they came five and six--"eleven," said the marker.
With a look of triumph Green held the box for the third time, which he
just turned upside down, and lo, on uncovering, there stood two--"ones!"
A loud laugh burst forth, and Green looked confused. "I'm so glad!"
whispered a young lady, who had made an unsuccessful "set" at Jemmy the
previous season, in a tone loud enough for him to hear. "I hope he'll
lose," rejoined a female friend, rather louder. "That Jemmy Green is my
absolute abhorrence," observed a third. "'Orrible man, with his nasty
vig," observed the mamma of the first speaker--"shouldn't have my darter
not at no price." Green, however, headed the poll, having beat the
Sunflower, and had still two lots in reserve. For number five, he threw
twenty-five, and was immediately outstripped, amid much laughter and
clapping of hands from the ladies, by number six, who in his turn fell
a prey to number seven. Between eight and nine there was a very
interesting contest who should be lowest, and hopes and fears were at
their altitude, when Jemmy Green again turned back his coat-wrist to
throw for number ten. His confidence had forsaken him a little, as
indicated by a slight quivering of the under-lip, but he managed to
conceal it from all except the ladies, who kept too scrutinising an
eye upon him. His first throw brought sixes, which raised his spirits
amazingly; but on their appearance a second time, he could scarcely
contain himself, backed as he was by the plaudits of his friend Mr.
Jorrocks. Then came the deciding throw--every eye was fixed on Jemmy, he
shook the box, turned it down, and lo! there came seven.
"Mr. James Green is the fortunate winner of this magnificent prize!"
exclaimed the youth, holding up the box in mid-air, and thereupon all
the ladies crowded round Green, some to congratulate him, others to
compliment him on his looks, while one or two of the least knowing tried
to coax him out of his box. Jemmy, however, was too old a stager, and
pocketed the box and other compliments at the same time.
Another grind of the organ, and another song followed from the same
young lady, during which operation Green sent for the manager, and,
after a little beating about the bush, proposed singing a song or
two, if he would give him lottery-tickets gratis. He asked three
shilling-tickets for each song, and finally closed for five tickets
for two songs, on the understanding that he was to be announced as a
distinguished amateur, who had come forward by most particular desire.
Accordingly the manager--a roundabout, red-faced, consequential little
cockney--mounted the rostrum, and begged to announce to the company
that that "celebrated wocalist, Mr. James Green, so well known as a
distinguished amateur and conwivialist, both at Bagnigge Wells, and Vite
Conduit House, LONDON, had werry kindly consented, in order to promote
the hilarity of the evening, to favour the company with a song
immediately after the drawing of the next lottery," and after a few
high-flown compliments, which elicited a laugh from those who were up
to Jemmy's mode of doing business, he concluded by offering a
_papier-maché_ tea-caddy for public competition, in shilling lots as
before.
As soon as the drawing was over, they gave the organ a grind, and Jemmy
popped up with a hop, step, and a jump, with his woolly white hat under
his arm, and presented himself with a scrape and a bow to the company.
After a few preparatory "hems and haws," he pulled up his gills and
spoke as follows: "Ladies and gentlemen! hem"--another pull at his
gills--"ladies and gentlemen--my walued friend, Mr. Kitey Graves, has
announced that I will entertain the company with a song; though nothing,
I assure you--hem--could be farther from my idea--hem--when my excellent
friend asked me,"--"Hookey Walker!" exclaimed someone who had heard
Jemmy declare the same thing half a dozen times--"and, indeed, ladies
and gentlemen--hem--nothing but the werry great regard I have for Mr.
Kitey Graves, who I have known and loved ever since he was the height of
sixpennorth of coppers" a loud laugh followed this allusion, seeing that
eighteenpenny-worth would almost measure out the speaker. On giving
another "hem," and again pulling up his gills, an old Kentish farmer, in
a brown coat and mahogany-coloured tops, holloaed out, "I say, sir! I'm
afear'd you'll be catching cold!" "I 'opes not," replied Jemmy in a
fluster, "is it raining? I've no umbrella, and my werry best coat on!"
"No! raining, no!" replied the farmer, "only you've pulled at your shirt
so long that I think you must be bare behind! Haw! haw! haw!" at which
all the males roared with laughter, and the females hid their faces in
their handkerchiefs, and tittered and giggled, and tried to be shocked.
"ORDER! ORDER!" cried Mr. Jorrocks, in a loud and sonorous voice, which
had the effect of quelling the riot and drawing all eyes upon himself.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, taking off his cap with great gravity,
and extending his right arm,
Immodest words admit of no defence,
For want of decency is want of sense;
a couplet so apropos, and so well delivered, as to have the immediate
effect of restoring order and making the farmer look foolish. Encouraged
by the voice of his great patron, Green once more essayed to finish his
speech, which he did by a fresh assurance of the surprise by which
he had been taken by the request of his friend, Kitey Graves, and an
exhortation for the company to make allowance for any deficiency of
"woice," inasmuch as how as labouring under "a wiolent 'orseness," for
which he had long been taking pectoral lozenges. He then gave his gills
another pull, felt if they were even, and struck up:
"Bid me discourse,"
in notes, compared to which the screaming of a peacock would be perfect
melody. Mr. Jorrocks having taken a conspicuous position, applauded
long, loudly, and warmly, at every pause--approbation the more deserved
and disinterested, inasmuch as the worthy gentleman suffers considerably
from music, and only knows two tunes, one of which, he says, "is _God
save the King_, and the other isn't."
Having seen his protégé fairly under way, Mr. Jorrocks gave him a hint
that he would return to the "White Hart," and have supper ready by the
time he was done; accordingly the Yorkshireman and he withdrew along an
avenue politely formed by the separation of the company, who applauded
as they passed.
An imperial quart and a half of Mr. Creed's stoutest draft port, with
the orthodox proportion of lemon, cloves, sugar, and cinnamon, had
almost boiled itself to perfection under the skilful superintendence of
Mr. Jorrocks, on the coffee-room fire, and a table had been handsomely
decorated with shrimps, lobsters, broiled bones, fried ham, poached
eggs, when just as the clock had finished striking eleven, the
coffee-room door opened with a rush, and in tripped Jemmy Green with his
hands crammed full of packages, and his trousers' pockets sticking out
like a Dutch burgomaster's. "Vell, I've done 'em brown to-night, I
think," said he, depositing his hat and half a dozen packages on the
sideboard, and running his fingers through his curls to make them stand
up. "I've won nine lotteries, and left one undrawn when I came away,
because it did not seem likely to fill. Let me see," said he, emptying
his pockets,--"there is the beautiful rosewood box that I won, ven you
was there; the next was a set of crimping-irons, vich I von also; the
third was a jockey-vip, which I did not want and only stood one ticket
for and lost; the fourth was this elegant box, with a view of Margate on
the lid; then came these six sherry labels with silver rims; a snuff-box
with an inwisible mouse; a coral rattle with silver bells; a silk
yard measure in a walnut-shell; a couple of West India beetles; a
humming-bird in a glass case, which I lost; and then these dozen bodkins
with silver eyes--so that altogether I have made a pretty good night's
work of it. Kitey Graves wasn't in great force, so after I had sung _Bid
me Discourse_, and _I'd be a Butterfly_, I cut my stick and went to the
hopposition shop, where they used me much more genteelly; giving me
three tickets for a song, and introducing me in more flattering terms to
the company--don't like being considered one of the nasty 'reglars,' and
they should make a point of explaining that one isn't. Besides, what
business had Kitey to say anything about Bagnigge Vells? a hass!--Now,
perhaps, you'll favour me with some supper."
"Certainly," replied Mr. Jorrocks, patting Jemmy approvingly on the
head--"you deserve some. It's only no song, no supper, and you've
been singing like a nightingale;" thereupon they set to with vigorous
determination.
A bright Sunday dawned, and the beach at an early hour was crowded with
men in dressing-gowns of every shape, hue, and material, with buff
slippers--the "regulation Margate shoeing," both for men and women. As
the hour of eleven approached, and the church bells began to ring, the
town seemed to awaken suddenly from a trance, and bonnets the most
superb, and dresses the most extravagant, poured forth from lodgings
the most miserable. Having shaved and dressed himself with more than
ordinary care and attention, Mr. Jorrocks walked his friends off to
church, assuring them that no one need hope to prosper throughout the
week who did not attend it on the Sunday, and he marked his own devotion
throughout the service by drowning the clerk's voice with his responses.
After this spiritual ablution Mr. Jorrocks bethought himself of having a
bodily one in the sea; and the day being excessively hot, and the tide
about the proper mark, he pocketed a couple of towels out of his bedroom
and went away to bathe, leaving Green and the Yorkshireman to amuse
themselves at the "White Hart."
This house, as we have already stated, faces the harbour, and is a
corner one, running a considerable way up the next street, with a side
door communicating, as well as the front one, with the coffee-room.
This room differs from the generality of coffee-rooms, inasmuch as the
windows range the whole length of the room, and being very low they
afford every facility for the children and passers-by to inspect the
interior. Whether this is done to show the Turkey carpet, the pea-green
cornices, the bright mahogany slips of tables, the gay trellised
geranium-papered room, or the aristocratic visitors who frequent it, is
immaterial--the description is as accurate as if George Robins had drawn
it himself. In this room then, as the Yorkshireman and Green were lying
dozing on three chairs apiece, each having fallen asleep to avoid the
trouble of talking to the other, they were suddenly roused by loud yells
and hootings at the side door, and the bursting into the coffee-room of
what at first brush they thought must be a bull. The Yorkshireman jumped
up, rubbed his eyes, and lo! before him stood Mr. Jorrocks, puffing like
a stranded grampus, with a bunch of sea-weed under his arm and the
dress in which he had started, with the exception of the dark blue
stocking-net pantaloons, the place of which were supplied by a flowing
white linen kilt, commonly called a shirt, in the four corners of which
were knotted a few small pebbles--producing, with the Hessian boots and
one thing and another, the most laughable figure imaginable. The blood
of the Jorrockses was up, however, and throwing his hands in the air, he
thus delivered himself. "Oh gentlemen! gentlemen!--here's a lamentable
occurrence--a terrible disaster--oh dear! oh dear!--I never thought I
should come to this. You know, James Green," appealing to Jemmy, "that
I never was the man to raise a blush on the cheek of modesty; I have
always said that 'want of decency is want of sense,' and see how I
am rewarded! Oh dear! oh dear! that I should ever have trusted my
pantaloons out of my sight." While all this, which was the work of a
moment, was going forward, the mob, which had been shut out at the side
door on Jorrocks's entry, had got round to the coffee-room window,
and were all wedging their faces in to have a sight of him. It was
principally composed of children, who kept up the most discordant yells,
mingled with shouts of "there's old cutty shirt!"--"who's got your
breeches, old cock?"--"make a scramble!"--"turn him out for another
hunt!"--"turn him again!"--until, fearing for the respectability of his
house, the landlord persuaded Mr. Jorrocks to retire into the bar to
state his grievances. It then appeared that having travelled along the
coast, as far as the first preventive stationhouse on the Ramsgate side
of Margate, the grocer had thought it a convenient place for performing
his intended ablutions, and, accordingly, proceeded to do what all
people of either sex agree upon in such cases--namely to divest himself
of his garments; but before he completed the ceremony, observing some
females on the cliffs above, and not being (as he said) a man "to raise
a blush on the cheek of modesty," he advanced to the water's edge in his
aforesaid unmentionables, and forgetting that it was not yet high tide,
he left them there, when they were speedily covered, and the pockets
being full of silver and copper, of course they were "swamped." After
dabbling about in the water and amusing himself with picking up sea-weed
for about ten minutes, Mr. Jorrocks was horrified, on returning to the
spot where he thought he had left his stocking-net pantaloons, to find
that they had disappeared; and after a long fruitless search, the
unfortunate gentleman was compelled to abandon the pursuit, and render
himself an object of chase to all the little boys and girls who chose to
follow him into Margate on his return without them.
Jorrocks, as might be expected, was very bad about his loss, and could
not get over it--it stuck in his gizzard, he said--and there it seemed
likely to remain. In vain Mr. Creed offered him a pair of trousers--he
never had worn a pair. In vain he asked for the loan of a pair of white
cords and top-boots, or even drab shorts and continuations. Mr. Creed
was no sportsman, and did not keep any. The bellman could not cry the
lost unmentionables because it was Sunday, and even if they should be
found on the ebbing of the tide, they would take no end of time to dry.
Mr. Jorrocks declared his pleasure at an end, and forthwith began making
inquiries as to the best mode of getting home. The coaches were all
gone, steamboats there were none, save for every place but London, and
posting, he said, was "cruelly expensive." In the midst of his dilemma,
"Boots," who is always the most intelligent man about an inn, popped in
his curly head, and informed Mr. Jorrocks that the Unity hoy, a most
commodious vessel, neat, trim, and water-tight, manned by his own
maternal uncle, was going to cut away to London at three o'clock, and
would land him before he could say "Jack Robinson." Mr. Jorrocks jumped
at the offer, and forthwith attiring himself in a pair of Mr. Creed's
loose inexpressibles, over which he drew his Hessian boots, he tucked
the hamper containing the knuckle of veal and other etceteras under one
arm, and the bunch of sea-weed he had been busy collecting, instead of
watching his clothes, under the other, and, followed by his friends,
made direct for the vessel.
Everybody knows, or ought to know, what a hoy is--it is a large
sailing-boat, sometimes with one deck, sometimes with none; and the
Unity, trading in bulky goods, was of the latter description, though
there was a sort of dog-hole at the stern, which the master dignified
by the name of a "state cabin," into which he purposed putting Mr.
Jorrocks, if the weather should turn cold before they arrived. The wind,
however, he said, was so favourable, and his cargo--"timber and fruit,"
as he described it, that is to say, broomsticks and potatoes--so light,
that he warranted landing him at Blackwall at least by ten o'clock,
where he could either sleep, or get a short stage or an omnibus on to
Leadenhall Street. The vessel looked anything but tempting, neither was
the captain's appearance prepossessing, still Mr. Jorrocks, all things
considered, thought he would chance it; and depositing his hamper and
sea-weed, and giving special instructions about having his pantaloons
cried in the morning--recounting that besides the silver, and
eighteen-pence in copper, there was a steel pencil-case with "J.J."
on the seal at the top, an anonymous letter, and two keys--he took an
affectionate leave of his friends, and stepped on board, the vessel was
shoved off and stood out to sea.
Monday morning drew the cockneys from their roosts betimes, to take
their farewell splash and dive in the sea. As the day advanced, the
bustle and confusion on the shore and in the town increased, and
everyone seemed on the move. The ladies paid their last visits to the
bazaars and shell shops, and children extracted the last ounce of
exertion from the exhausted leg-weary donkeys. Meanwhile the lords of
the creation strutted about, some in dressing-gowns, others, "full
puff," with bags and boxes under their arms--while sturdy porters were
wheeling barrows full of luggage to the jetty. The bell-man went round
dressed in a blue and red cloak, with a gold hatband. Ring-a-ding,
ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong, went the bell, and the gaping cockneys
congregated around. He commenced--"To be sould in the market-place a
quantity of fresh ling." Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong: "The _Royal
Adelaide_, fast and splendid steam-packet, Capt. Whittingham, will leave
the pier this morning at nine o'clock precisely, and land the passengers
at London Bridge Steam-packet Wharf--fore cabin fares and children four
shillings--saloon five shillings." Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong: "The
superb and splendid steam-packet, the _Magnet_, will leave the pier this
morning at nine o'clock precisely, and land the passengers at the St.
Catherine Docks--fore-cabin fares and children four shillings--saloon
five shillings." Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong: "Lost at the back of
James Street--a lady's black silk--black lace wale--whoever has found
the same, and will bring it to the cryer, shall receive one shilling
reward." Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong: "Lost, last night, between the
jetty and the York Hotel, a little boy, as answers to the name of Spot,
whoever has found the same, and will bring him to the cryer, shall
receive a reward of half-a-crown." Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong:
"Lost, stolen, or strayed, or otherwise conveyed, a brown-and-white King
Charles's setter as answers to the name of Jacob Jones. Whoever has
found the same, or will give such information as shall lead to the
detection and conversion of the offender or offenders shall be
handsomely rewarded." Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong: "Lost below the
prewentive sarvice station by a gentleman of great respectability--a
pair of blue knit pantaloons, containing eighteen penny-worth of
copper--a steel pencil-case--a werry anonymous letter, and two keys.
Whoever will bring the same to the cryer shall receive a reward.--_God
save the King!"_
Then, as the hour of nine approached, what a concourse appeared! There
were fat and lean, and short and tall, and middling, going away, and fat
and lean, and short and tall, and middling, waiting to see them off;
Green, as usual, making himself conspicuous, and canvassing everyone he
could lay hold of for the _Magnet_ steamer. At the end of the jetty, on
each side, lay the _Royal Adelaide_ and the _Magnet_, with as fierce a
contest for patronage as ever was witnessed. Both decks were crowded
with anxious faces--for the Monday's steamboat race is as great an event
as a Derby, and a cockney would as lieve lay on an outside horse as
patronise a boat that was likely to let another pass her. Nay, so
high is the enthusiasm carried, that books are regularly made on the
occasion, and there is as much clamour for bets as in the ring at
Epsom or Newmarket. "Tomkins, I'll lay you a dinner--for three--_Royal
Adelaide_ against the _Magnet_," bawled Jenkins from the former boat.
"Done," cries Tomkins. "The _Magnet_ for a bottle of port," bawled out
another. "A whitebait dinner for two, the _Magnet_ reaches Greenwich
first." "What should you know about the _Magnet_?" inquires the mate
of the _Royal Adelaide_. "Vy, I think I should know something about
nauticals too, for Lord St. Wincent was my godfather." "I'll bet five
shillings on the _Royal Adelaide."_ "I'll take you," says another. "I'll
bet a bottom of brandy on the _Magnet_," roars out the mate. "Two goes
of Hollands', the _Magnet's_ off Herne Bay before the _Royal Adelaide."_
"I'll lay a pair of crimping-irons against five shillings, the _Magnet_
beats the _Royal Adelaide_," bellowed out Green, who having come on
board, had mounted the paddle-box. "I say, Green, I'll lay you an even
five if you like." "Well, five pounds," cries Green. "No, shillings,"
says his friend. "Never bet in shillings," replies Green, pulling up his
shirt collar. "I'll bet fifty pounds," he adds,-getting valiant. "I'll
bet a hundred ponds--a thousand pounds--a million pounds--half the
National Debt, if you like."
Precisely as the jetty clock finishes striking nine, the ropes are
slipped, and the rival steamers stand out to sea with beautiful
precision, amid the crying, the kissing of hands, the raising of hats,
the waving of handkerchiefs, from those who are left for the week, while
the passengers are cheered by adverse tunes from the respective bands on
board. The _Magnet_, having the outside, gets the breeze first hand, but
the _Royal Adelaide_ keeps well alongside, and both firemen being deeply
interested in the event, they boil up a tremendous gallop, without
either being able to claim the slightest advantage for upwards of an
hour and a half, when the _Royal Adelaide_ manages to shoot ahead for
a few minutes, amid the cheers and exclamations of her crew. The
_Magnet's_ fireman, however, is on the alert, and a few extra pokes of
the fire presently bring the boats together again, in which state they
continue, nose and nose, until the stiller water of the side of the
Thames favours the _Magnet_, and she shoots ahead amid the cheers and
vociferations of her party, and is not neared again during the voyage.
This excitement over, the respective crews sink into a sort of
melancholy sedateness, and Green in vain endeavours to kick up a
quadrille. The men were exhausted and the women dispirited, and
altogether they were a very different set of beings to what they were
on the Saturday. Dull faces and dirty-white ducks were the order of the
day.
The only incident of the voyage was, that on approaching the mouth
of the Medway, the _Royal Adelaide_ was hailed by a vessel, and the
Yorkshireman, on looking overboard, was shocked to behold Mr. Jorrocks
sitting in the stern of his hoy in the identical position he had taken
up the previous day, with his bunch of sea-weed under his elbow, and the
remains of the knuckle of veal, ham, and chicken, spread on the hamper
before him. "Stop her?" cried the Yorkshireman, and then hailing Mr.
Jorrocks he holloaed out, "In the name of the prophet, Figs, what are
you doing there?" "Oh, gentlemen! gentlemen!" exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks,
brightening up as he recognised the boat, "take compassion on a most
misfortunate indiwidual--here have I been in this 'orrid 'oy, ever since
three o'clock yesterday afternoon and here I seem likely to end my
days--for blow me tight if I couldn't swim as fast as it goes." "Look
sharp, then," cried the mate of the steamer, "and chuck us up your
luggage." Up went the sea-weed, the hamper, and Mr. Jorrocks; and before
the hoyman awoke out of a nap, into which he had composed himself on
resigning the rudder to his lad, our worthy citizen was steaming away a
mile before his vessel, bilking him of his fare.
Who does not recognise in this last disaster, the truth of the old
adage?
"Most haste, least speed."