"I say, Tug," said Mac Turk, one day, soon after our flare-up at Beulah,
"Kilblazes comes of age in October, and then we'll cut you out, as I
told you: the old barberess will die of spite when she hears what we are
going to do. What do you think? we're going to have a tournament!"
"What's a tournament?" says Tug, and so said his mamma, when she heard
the news; and when she knew what a tournament was, I think, really, she
_was_ as angry as Mac Turk said she would be, and gave us no peace for
days together. "What!" says she, "dress up in armour, like play-actors,
and run at each other with spears? the Kilblazes must be mad!" And so I
thought, but I didn't think the Tuggeridges would be mad too, as they
were; for, when Jemmy heard that the Kilblazes festival was to be, as
yet, a profound secret, what does she do but send down to the _Morning
Post_ a flaming account of
"THE PASSAGE OF ARMS AT TUGGERIDGEVILLE!
"The days of chivalry are _not_ past. The fair Castellane of
T-gg-r-dgeville, whose splendid entertainments have so often been
alluded to in this paper, has determined to give one which shall exceed
in splendour even the magnificence of the middle ages. We are not at
liberty to say more; but a tournament, at which His Ex—l—ncy B-r-n de
P-nt-r, and Thomas T-gr-g, Esq., eldest son of Sir Th—s T-gr-g, are to
be the knights-defendants against all comers; a _Queen of Beauty_, of
whose loveliness every frequenter of fashion has felt the power; a
banquet, unexampled in the annals of Gunter; and a ball, in which the
recollections of ancient chivalry will blend sweetly with the soft tones
of Weippert and Collinet, are among the entertainments which the Ladye
of T-gg-ridgeville has prepared for her distinguished guests."
And now—O that I had twenty pages, instead of these miserable two, to
describe the wonders of the day!—Twenty-four knights came from Ashley's,
at two guineas a-head. We were in hopes to have had Miss Woolcombe, in
the character of Joan of Arc, but that lady did not appear. We had a
tent for the challengers, at each side of which hung what they called
_escoachings_ (like hatchments, which they put up when people die), and
underneath sat their pages, holding their helmets for the tournament.
Tagrag was in brass armour (my city connexions got him that famous
suit); his Excellency in polished steel. My wife wore a coronet,
modelled exactly after that of Queen Catharine, in _Henry V._; a tight
gilt jacket, which set off dear Jemmy's figure wonderfully, and a train
of at least forty feet. Dear Jemimarann was in white, her hair braided
with pearls. Madame de Flicflac appeared as Queen Elizabeth; and Lady
Blanche Bluenose as a Turkish princess. An alderman of London, and his
lady; two magistrates of the county, and the very pink of Croydon;
several Polish noblemen; two Italian Counts (besides _our_ Count); one
hundred and ten young officers, from Addiscombe College, in full
uniform, commanded by Major-General Sir Miles Mulligatawney, K.C.B., and
his lady; the Misses Pimminy's Finishing Establishment, and fourteen
young ladies, all in white; the Reverend Doctor Wapshot, and forty-nine
young gentlemen, of the first families, under his charge; were _some_
only of the company. I leave you to fancy that, if my Jemmy did seek for
fashion, she had enough of it on this occasion. They wanted me to have
mounted again, but my hunting day had been sufficient; besides, I ain't
big enough for a real knight: so, as Mrs. Coxe insisted on my opening
the Tournament—and I knew it was in vain to resist—the Baron and Tagrag
had undertaken to arrange so that I might come off with safety, if I
came off at all. They had procured, from the Strand Theatre, a famous
stud of hobby-horses, which they told me had been trained for the use of
the great Lord Bateman. I did not know exactly what they were till they
arrived; but as they had belonged to a Lord, I thought it was all right,
and consented; and I found it the best sort of riding, after all, to
appear to be on horseback and walk safely a-foot at the same time, and
it was impossible to come down as long as I kept on my own legs;
besides, I could cuff and pull my steed about as much as I liked,
without fear of his biting or kicking in return. As Lord of the
Tournament, they placed in my hands a lance, ornamented spirally, in
blue and gold. I thought of the pole over my old shop-door, and almost
wished myself there again, as I capered up to the battle in my helmet
and breastplate, with all the trumpets blowing and drums beating at the
time. Captain Tagrag was my opponent, and preciously we poked each
other, till prancing about, I put my foot on my horse's petticoat
behind, and down I came, getting a thrust from the Captain, at the same
time, that almost broke my shoulder-bone. "This was sufficient," they
said, "for the laws of chivalry;" and I was glad to get off so.
After that, the gentlemen riders, of whom there were no less than seven,
in complete armour, and the professionals, now ran at the ring; and the
Baron was far, far the most skilful.
"How sweetly the dear Baron rides," said my wife, who was always ogling
at him, smirking, smiling, and waving her handkerchief to him. "I say,
Sam," says a professional to one of his friends, as, after their course,
they came cantering up, and ranged under Jemmy's bower, as she called
it;—"I say, Sam, I'm blowed if that chap in harmer musn't have been one
of hus." And this only made Jemmy the more pleased; for the fact is, the
Baron had chosen the best way of winning Jemimarann by courting her
mother.
The Baron was declared conqueror at the ring; and Jemmy awarded him the
prize, a wreath of white roses, which she placed on his lance; he
receiving it gracefully, and bowing, until the plumes of his helmet
mingled with the mane of his charger, which backed to the other end of
the lists, and then, galloping back to the place where Jemimarann was
seated, he begged her to place it on his helmet: the poor girl blushed
very much, and did so. As all the people were applauding, Tagrag rushed
up, and, laying his hand on the Baron's shoulder, whispered something in
his ear, which made the other very angry, I suppose, for he shook him
off violently. "_Chacun pour soi_," says he, "_Monsieur de Taguerague_;"
which means, I am told, "every man for himself."
After this came the "Passage of Arms." Tagrag and the Baron run courses
against the other champions; ay, and unhorsed two a-piece; whereupon the
other three refused to turn out; and preciously we laughed at them, to
be sure!
"Now, it's _our_ turn, Mr. _Chicot_," says Tagrag, shaking his fist at
the Baron: "look to yourself, you infernal mountebank, for, by Jupiter!
I'll do my best;" and before Jemmy and the rest of us, who were quite
bewildered, could say a word, these two friends were charging away,
spears in hand, ready to kill each other. In vain Jemmy screamed; in
vain I threw down my truncheon: they had broken two poles before I could
say "Jack Robinson," and were driving at each other with the two new
ones. The Baron had the worst of the first course, for he had almost
been carried out of his saddle. "Hark you, Chicot!" screamed out Tagrag,
"next time look to your head;" and, next time, sure enough, each aimed
at the head of the other.
Tagrag's spear hit the right place; for it carried off the Baron's
helmet, plume, rose-wreath and all; but his Excellency hit truer still—
his lance took Tagrag on the neck, and sent him to the ground like a
stone.
"He's won! he's won!" says Jemmy, waving her handkerchief; Jemimarann
fainted, Lady Blanche screamed, and I felt so sick that I thought I
should drop. All the company were in an uproar; only the Baron looked
calm, and bowed very gracefully, and kissed his hand to Jemmy; when, all
of a sudden, a Jewish-looking man, springing over the barrier, and
followed by three more, rushed towards the Baron. "Keep the gate, Bob!"
he holloas out. "Baron, I arrest you, at the suit of Samuel Levison,
for——"
But he never said for what; shouting out, "Aha!" and "_Sapprrrristie!_"
and I don't know what, his Excellency drew his sword, dug his spurs into
his horse, and was over the poor bailiff and off before another word: he
had threatened to run through one of the bailiff's followers, Mr.
Stubbs, only that gentleman made way for him; and when we took up the
bailiff, and brought him round by the aid of a little brandy-and-water,
he told us all. "I had writ againsht him, Mishter Coxsh, but I didn't
vant to shpoil shport; and, beshidesh, I didn't know him until dey
knocked off his shteel cap!"
Here was a pretty business!