"THE SERVANTS' ARMS."
Upon the same day that this event took place, Mr. Whittingham, the
butler of Richard Markham, had solicited and obtained permission to pass
the evening with a certain Mr. Thomas Suggett, who occupied the
distinguished post of _valet de chambre_ about the person of the
Honourable Arthur Chichester. Whittingham was determined to enjoy
himself:--he seemed suddenly to have cast off twenty years from his
back, and to walk the more upright for having rid himself of the
burthen;--his hat was slightly cocked on one side; and, as he walked
along, with Mr. Thomas Suggett tucked under his arm, he struck his
silver-headed bamboo, which he always carried with him when he went
abroad on Sundays and holidays, very forcibly upon the pavement. Mr.
Suggett declared "that, for his part, he was very well disposed for a
spree;" and he threw into his gait a most awful swagger, which certainly
excited considerable attention, because all the small boys in the
streets laughed at him as he wended on his way.
"I wonder what them urchins are garping at so," said Whittingham. "It
mystificates me in no inconsiderable degree. Raly the lower orders of
English is exceedingly imperlite. I feel the most inwigorated disgust
and the most unboundless contempt for their manners."
"That's jist like me," observed Suggett: "I can't a-bear the lower
orders. I hate everythink wulgar.--But, by the bye, Mr. Whittingham, do
you smoke?"
"I can't say but what I like a full-flavoured Havannah--a threepenny,
mind," added the butler, pompously.
"Just my taste, Mr. Whittingham. If I can't afford threepennies, I won't
smoke at all."
Mr. Suggett entered a cigar shop, purchased half-a-dozen _real
Havannahs_ (manufactured in St. John-street, Clerkenwell), joked with
the young lady who served him, and then presented the one which he
considered the best to his companion. The two gentlemen's gentlemen
accordingly lighted their cigars, and then continued their walk along
the New Road, in the vicinity of which Mr. Whittingham had met Mr.
Suggett by appointment upon this memorable afternoon.
In a short time Mr. Suggett stopped suddenly at the door of a large
white public-house, not a hundred miles distant from the new church, St.
Pancras.
"This is a nice crib," said he. "Excellent company; and to-night there
is a supper at eleven."
"The very identified thing," acquiesced Mr. Whittingham; and into the
public-house they walked.
Nothing could be more neat and cleanly than the bar of the _Servants'
Arms_--no one more obliging nor bustling than the "young lady" behind
the bar. The _Servants' Arms_ was reported to draw the best liquor in
all the neighbourhood; and its landlord prided himself upon the
superiority of his establishment over those which sold beer "at
three-pence a-pot in your own jugs." And then what a rapid draught the
landlord had for all his good things; and how crowded was the space
before the bar with customers.
"Glass of ale--mild, Miss, if you please," said one.
"A quartern of gin and three outs, Caroline," cried a second, who was
more familiar.
"Pint of half-and-half, here," exclaimed a third.
"Six of brandy, warm, Miss--four of gin, cold, and a pint of ale with
the chill off--parlour!" ejaculated the waiter, who now made his
appearance at the bar.
"Pot of porter; and master's compliments, and can you lend him
yesterday's _Advertiser_ for half an hour or so?" said a pretty little
servant girl, placing a large yellow jug on the bright lead surface of
the bar.
"Pot of ale, and a screw, Miss."
"Pint of gin, for mixing, please."
"Bottle of Cape wine, at eighteen, landlord."
"Four-penn'orth of rum, cold without."
"Half pint of porter, and a pipe, Caroline."
Such were the orders, issued from all quarters at the same moment, and
to which Caroline responded with incredible alacrity; finding time to
crack a joke with the known frequenters of the house, and to make a
pleasant observation upon the weather to those whose faces were strange
to her;--while the landlord contented himself with looking on, or every
now and then drawing a pot of beer, apparently as a great favour and in
a lazy independent manner. Nevertheless, he was a good, civil kind of a
man; only somewhat independent, because he was growing rich. He was
never afraid at the end of month to see Truman and Hanbury's collector,
and Nicholson's man, alight from their gigs at his door. They were
always sure to find the money ready for them, when they sate down to
write their receipts in the little narrow slip of a parlour behind the
bar. In fact, the landlord of the _Servants' Arms_, was reported to be
doing "a very snug business:"--and so he was.
Messrs. Whittingham and Suggett sauntered leisurely into the parlour of
the _Servants' Arms_, and took their seats at the only table which
remained unoccupied.
"Good evening, Sir," said the waiter, addressing Mr. Suggett with a sort
of semi-familiarity, which showed that the latter gentleman was in the
habit of "using the house."
"How are you, William?" cried Mr. Suggett, in a patronising manner.
"George been here lately?"
"Not very: I think he's down in the country."
"Oh! Well, what shall we have, Mr. Whittingham--brandy and water?"
"That's my inwariable beverage, Mr. Suggett."
"Two sixes, gentlemen?" said the waiter.
"No," answered Mr. Whittingham, solemnly; "two shillings' worth, to
begin with."
The liquor was supplied, and when the two gentlemen had tasted it, and
found it to their liking, they glanced around the room to survey the
company. It soon appeared that Mr. Suggett was well known to many of the
gentlemen present; for, upon making his survey, he acknowledged, with a
nod or a short phrase, the bows or salutations of those with whom he was
acquainted.
"Ah! Mr. Guffins, always up in the same corner, eh?" said he, addressing
a middle-aged man in seedy black: "got a new work in the press, 'spose?
You literary men contrive to enjoy yourselves, I know. How do you do,
Mr. Mac Chizzle?" looking towards a short, pock-marked man, with a quick
grey eye, and black hair combed upright off his forehead: "how get on
the clients? Plenty of business, eh? Ah! you lawyers always contrive to
do well. Mr. Drummer, your servant, sir. Got a good congregation still,
sir?"
"The chapel thriveth well, I thank you--as well as can be expected in
these times of heathen abominations," answered a demure-looking
middle-aged gentleman, who was clad in deep black and wore a white
neck-cloth, which seemed (together with the condition of his shirt and
stockings) to denote that although he had gained the confidence of his
flock, he had certainly lost that of his washer-woman. After having
taken a long draught of a pint of half-and-half which stood before him,
he added, "There is a many savoury vessels in my congregation--reputable,
pious, and prayer-full people, which pays regular for their sittings and
fears the Lord."
"Well, I am glad of that," ejaculated Mr. Suggett. "But, ah!" he cried,
observing a thin white-haired old gentleman, with huge silver spectacles
hanging half-way down his nose,--"I'm glad to see Mr. Cobbington here.
How gets on the circulating library, eh--sir?"
"Pretty well--pretty well, thank'ee," returned the bookseller: "pretty
well--considering."
A great many people qualify their observations and answers by the
addition of the word "_considering_;" but they seldom vouchsafe an
explanation of _what is to be considered_. Sometimes they use the phrase
"considering all things;" and then the mind has so much to consider,
that it cannot consider any one thing definitively. It would be much
more straightforward and satisfactory if persons would relieve their
friends of all suspense, and say boldly at once, as the case may be,
"_considering_ the execution I have got in my house;" or "_considering_
the writ that's out against me;" or even "_considering_ the trifling
annoyance of not having a shilling in my pocket, and not knowing where
to look for one." But, somehow or another, people never will be candid
now-a-days; and Talleyrand was right when he said that "language was
given to man to enable him to conceal his thoughts."
But to continue.
Mr. Suggett glanced a little further around the room, and recognized
another old acquaintance.
"Ah! Snoggles, how are you?"
"Very well, thank'ee--how be you?"
"Blooming; but how come you here?"
"I dropped in quite permiscuously," answered Snoggles, "and finding good
company, stayed. But it is up'ards o' three years since I see you, Mr.
Suggett."
"About. What grade do you now fill in the profession? Any promotion?"
"I'm sorry to say not," replied Mr. Snoggles, shaking his head
mournfully. "I've tumbled off the box down to a level with the osses;"
which, being interpreted, means that Mr. Snoggles had fallen from the
high estate of coachman to the less elevated rank of ostler. "But what
rank do you now hold?"
"I left off the uniform of _tiger_ last month," answered Mr. Suggett,
"and received the brevet of walley-de-chambre."
"That gentleman one of the profession?" demanded Snoggles, alluding to
Mr. Whittingham.
"Mr. Markham's butler, sir, at your service," said Whittingham, bowing
with awe-inspiring stiffness: "and I may say, without exag-gerating,
sir, and in no wise compromising my indefatigable character for
weracity, that I'm also Mr. Markham's confidential friend. And what's
more, gen'leman," added the butler, glancing proudly around the room,
"Mr. Richard Markham is the finest young man about this stupendous city
of the whole universe--and that's as true as that this is a hand."
As Mr. Whittingham concluded this sentence, he extended his arm to
display the hand relative to which he expressed such confidence; and
while he flourished the arm to give weight to his language, the
aforesaid hand encountered the right eye of the dissenting parson.
"A case of assault and battery," instantly exclaimed Mr. Mac Chizzle,
the lawyer; "and here are upwards of a dozen witnesses for the
plaintiff."
"I really beg the gentleman's pardon," said Whittingham.
"Special jury--sittings after term--damages five hundred pounds;"
exclaimed Mac Chizzle.
"No harm was intended," observed Suggett.
"Not a bit," added Snoggles.
"Verdict for Plaintiff--enter up judgment--issue execution--_ca. sa._ in
no time," said Mac Chizzle doggedly.
"I am used to flagellations and persecutions at the hands of the
ungodly," said the Reverend Mr. Drummer, rubbing his eye with his fist,
and thereby succeeding in inflaming it.
"Perhaps the reverend gentleman wouldn't take it amiss if I was to offer
him my apologies in a extra powerful glass of brandy and water?"
exclaimed Whittingham.
"Bribery," murmured Mac Chizzle.
"No, let us have a bowl of punch at once," exclaimed Suggett.
"And corruption," added the lawyer.
The bowl of punch was ordered, and the company generally was invited to
partake of it. Even Mr. Mac Chizzle did not hesitate; and the dissenting
minister, in order to convince Mr. Whittingham that he entirely forgave
him, consented to partake of the punch so often that he at length began
slapping Mr. Whittingham upon the back, and declaring that he was the
best fellow in the world.
The conversation became general; and some of it is worth recording.
"I hope to have your patronage, sir, for my circulating library," said
Mr. Cobbington to the butler.
"Depends, sir, upon the specified nature of the books it contains," was
the reply.
"I have nothing but moral romances in which vice is always punished and
virtue rewarded."
"That conduct of yours is highly credulous to you."
"All books is trash, except one," observed Mr. Drummer, winking his eyes
in an extraordinary manner. "They teaches naught but swearing, lewd
conversation, ungodliness, and that worst of all vices--intemperance."
"I beg you to understand, sir," exclaimed Mr. Guffins, who had hitherto
remained a silent spectator of the proceedings, although a persevering
partaker of the punch; "I beg you to understand, Mr. Drummer, my works,
sir, are not the trash you seem to allude to."
"I won't understand nothing nor nobody," answered the reverend
gentleman, swaying backwards and forwards in his chair. "Leave me to
commune with myself upon the vanities of this wicked world,
and--and--drink my punch in quiet."
"Humbug!" exclaimed the literary man, swallowing his resentment and the
remainder of his punch simultaneously.
"Ah!" said the bookseller, after a pause; "nothing now succeeds unless
it's in the comic line. We have comic Latin grammars, and comic Greek
grammars; indeed, I don't know but what English grammar, too, is a
comedy altogether. All our tragedies are made into comedies by the way
they are performed; and no work sells without comic illustrations to it.
I have brought out several new comic works, which have been very
successful. For instance, '_The Comic Wealth of Nations_;' '_The Comic
Parliamentary Speeches_;' '_The Comic Report of the Poor-Law
Commissioners_,' with an Appendix containing the '_Comic Dietary
Scale_;' and the '_Comic Distresses of the Industrious Population_.' I
even propose to bring out a '_Comic Whole Duty of Man_.' All these books
sell well: they do admirably for the nurseries of the children of the
aristocracy. In fact they are as good as manuals and text-books."
"This rage for the comic is most unexpressedly remarkable," observed the
butler.
"It is indeed!" ejaculated Snoggles; and, in order to illustrate the
truth of the statement, he jerked a piece of lemon-peel very cleverly
into the dissenting parson's left eye.
"That's right--stone me to death!" murmured the reverend gentleman. "My
name is Stephen--and it is all for righteousness' sake! I know I'm a
chosen vessel, and may become a martyr. My name is Stephen, I tell
you--Stephen Drum--um--ummer!"
He then began an eulogium upon meekness and resignation under injuries,
and reiterated his conviction that he was a chosen vessel; but, becoming
suddenly excited by a horse-laugh which fell upon his ear, he forgot all
about the chosen vessel, and lifted another very savagely from the
table. In a word, he seized a pewter pot in his hand, and would have
hurled it at Mr. Snoggles' head, had not Mr. Whittingham stopped the
dangerous missile in time, and pacified the reverend gentleman by
calling for more punch.
"We must certainly have those two men bound over to keep the peace,"
said Mac Chizzle; "two sureties in fifty, and themselves in a hundred,
each."
"I shall dress the whole scene up for one of the _Monthlies_," observed
Mr. Guffins.
"If you do, you'll be indictable for libel," said Mac Chizzle. "The
greater the truth, the greater the libel."
In the meanwhile Suggett and his friend Snoggles drew close to each
other, and entered into conversation.
"It must be about three years since I saw you last," said the latter.
"Three year, come January," observed Suggett.
"Ah! I've seed some strange wicissitudes in the interval," continued
Snoggles. "I went abroad as coachman, with a dashing young chap of the
name of Winchester--"
"The devil you did! how singular! why my present guvner's name is
Chichester."
"Well, I des say they're cousins then," said the ostler; "but I hope
your'n won't treat you as mine did me. He seemed to have no end of tin
for some months, and lived--my eye, how he lived! King's Bench dinners
ain't nothin' to what his'n was; and yet I've heard say that the
prisoners live there better than their creditors outside.
Howsomever--things didn't always go on swimmingly. We went to
Baden--called so cos of the baths; and there my guvner got involved in
some gambling transactions, as forced him to make his name _Walker_.
Well, he bolted, leaving all his traps behind, and me amongst them, and
not a skurrick to pay the hotel bill and find my way back agin to
England. The landlord he seized the traps, and I was forced to walk all
the way to--I forget the name of the place--"
"Constantinople, perhaps," said Suggett, kindly endeavouring to assist
his friend in his little geographical embarrassments.
"No; that ain't it," returned Snoggles. "Howsomever, I had every kind of
difficulty to fight up against; and I never see my guvner from that day
to this. He owed me eight pound, nineteen, and sixpence for wages; and
he was bound by contract to bring me back to England."
"Disgraceful raskel, that he was!" ejaculated Mr. Suggett. "I raly think
that we gentlemen ought to establish a society for our protection. The
Licensed Witlers have _their_ Association; why shouldn't we have the
Gentlemen's Gentlemen organized into a society?"
"Why not?" said Snoggles.
The waiter now acquainted the company that supper was ready in an
upstairs room for those who liked to partake of it. All the gentlemen
whose names have been introduced to the reader in connection with the
parlour of the _Servants' Arms_, removed to the banqueting saloon, where
the table was spread with a snow-white cloth and black handled knives
and forks. At intervals stood salt-cellars and pepper boxes, the latter
resembling in shape the three little domes upon the present National
Gallery in Trafalgar Square. A huge round of boiled beef tripe both
boiled and fried, and rump steaks, formed the supper. The methodist
parson insisted upon being allowed to say grace--or, as he expressed it,
"ask a blessing," for which purpose the same neighbours who had kindly
helped him up the stairs, now sustained him upon his legs. Dread was the
havoc then made upon the various dainties on the table, Mr. Guffins
being especially characterised by a good appetite upon this occasion.
The Reverend Mr. Drummer was also far from being behind-hand in this
onslaught upon the luxuries supplied by the _Servants' Arms_; and while
he bolted huge mouthfuls of boiled beef, he favoured the company with an
excellent moral dissertation upon abstemiousness and self-mortification.
Mr. Drummer was, however, one of those who content themselves with
inculcating morality, and do not consider it necessary to set an example
in their own persons; for, after having clearly demonstrated that
gluttony and drunkenness lead to blasphemy, ungodliness, and profane
swearing, he abruptly turned to the landlord, who presided at the
supper-table, and, holding his plate to be filled for the fourth time,
exclaimed, "D--n your eyes, don't cut it so infernally thick!"
After supper, "glasses round" of hot brandy and water were introduced,
and the conversation was carried on with considerable spirit. It was
midnight before the party thought of breaking up, although several of
the gentlemen present had already begun to see three or four Dutch
clocks staring them in the face besides the one which graced the wall.
As for the Reverend Mr. Drummer, he declared that he was so affected by
the ungodly proceedings of those present that he should forthwith
endeavour to wash away their guilt with his tears; and it is distressing
to be compelled to observe that all the reward this truly pious and
deserving man experienced at the hands of the ungrateful company, was
the cruel accusation that he was "crying drunk." This disgraceful
behaviour produced such an effect upon his naturally nervous
temperament, that he fell flat upon the floor, and was compelled to be
taken in a wheelbarrow to his own house close by.
We may also add here that on the following day this proceeding was
rumoured abroad, so that the much injured minister was necessitated to
justify his conduct from the pulpit on the ensuing sabbath. This he did
so effectually, that two old ladies, who carried small flasks of brandy
in their pockets, were conveyed out of the chapel in a peculiar
state--no doubt overpowered by the minister's eloquence. They however
recovered at the expiration of some hours, and immediately opened a
subscription to present a piece of plate to the Reverend Stephen
Drummer, together with a vote of thanks and confidence on the part of
the congregation. The vote was respectfully, but gratefully declined by
this holy man; but, after some little entreaty, he was prevailed upon to
accept the plate. From that time to the present day his congregation has
been rapidly increasing; and, although envy and jealousy have declared
that he himself helped to augment its numbers in the shape of three
innocent little children by different servant-girls, he very properly
disdained to contradict the report, and is considered by his flock to be
a chosen and savoury vessel of the Lord.