_A Glance at the Metropolis._
It was finally arranged that I should go to Town with the groom, who
had orders to set off early next morning. An unusual melancholy took
possession of me, as I reflected, that this was, perhaps, my last
appearance in genteel life. I was less sanguine respecting London and
its wonders; and indeed, as my fate was already carved out, there
was nothing like incident or adventure attached to my migration, a
circumstance peculiarly disappointing to an Ass of a romantic turn of
mind. Matthew, who was a good-humoured, giddy young man, cheerfully
undertook the charge of me, and it was on our way towards Deptford, I
learned something of my destined mistress.
“So you are off I see,” said a man in livery, addressing my conductor;
“but what will you do with the Donkey in Town?”
“Master intends giving him to a pensioner of his,” replied Matthew.
“Well, that’s good, but I do think there isn’t a better man than your
master.”
“It is a good family altogether,” continued Matthew. “I wouldn’t
change,--no, not to live with the Prince Regent!--Yes, and not only the
Donkey, but a new cart is to be got for the poor old woman; and all the
children are as pleased at it, as if they had the finest present given
to themselves.”
“Well, such people deserve money, I say,” resumed the man; “I only hope
they may never meet a bad return, for that sometimes makes even the
best hard-hearted.”
“They are not likely to be imposed on, because they go about and seek
into things,” said Matthew. “Why the old woman that’s to have this
Donkey, goes about London with garden-stuff: well, she fell down
just opposite our door in Russel Square--one of the children saw
her, and sent out somebody to assist her: it was in the hard frost
last winter--the poor creature was almost froze--we had her in, and
the maids rubbed her ancle. Mistress came down to inquire into her
story--ordered her to have some victuals--gave her a pound note, and
advised her to go home for that day at least. Well, next morning
mistress walks to Somer’s Town, where this woman lives--hears a good
character of her--that she brought up a nephew that had been her ruin,
and forced her to take to her present business. So then she gave her
our custom, which is something--sent her in some coals, and almost kept
her all the winter; and master brought home word last night, that her
horse is dead--so she is to have this Donkey and a new cart.”
This recital met the entire approbation of our detainer; who, wishing
the Turner family a hundred guineas for every one they now possessed,
suffered us to depart. You may be sure I did justice to these really
good friends, and though I might not actually fall in love with the
occupation of my appointed mistress, I hoped every thing from her
gratitude. We trotted along the road, and, to my great disappointment,
each step that brought me nearer to the metropolis, increased the
unpleasantness of my feelings. You will ask,--what I could expect, at
such a season of the year, but dirt and fog? Now a fog was a luxury
to which I had hitherto been a stranger; consequently its effects
rather surprised me. My breath seemed impeded by this extraordinary
quality of the atmosphere, and I began to think that blinkers must be a
superfluous appendage in London, where it seemed almost impossible to
find one’s way in broad day-light. As we crossed Blackfriars-bridge,
the sun cast a partial gleam, and exhibited a view I was well disposed
to admire. I shall never forget the delight with which the Thames
inspired me as an object. _We_, as I have before observed, are
epicures in water; and though as an element we have our fears and
prejudices when in too close contact with it, so much of our comfort
depends upon the pure state in which we get this beverage, that I trust
I shall be pardoned for the warmth with which I express myself on this
subject.
I was not so silly as to expect to find London paved with gold, but I
certainly thought it would be whole--complete in every part. Great,
therefore, was my vexation, when I found myself less equal to preserve
my paces, according to _my_ ideas of grace, than in many mean villages
through which I had passed. Matthew had frequent occasion to pull my
reins, in order to save me from falling. It is true, the thick mud
which filled up the interstices between the stones, might help to
retard my progress; but I really think, if abstemiousness were not an
acknowledged property of the Ass, any person who had seen me stagger
into London, would have called me a most immoral Donkey.
Our route lay through a part of Fleet Street, Chancery Lane, across
Holborn to Russel Square. What a scene it was altogether! What bustle
and noise! The splendour of gay carriages contrasted by loaded carts,
waggons! &c. &c. and, to add to my astonishment, _men_ carried loads
that appeared to require the strength of a horse. I was beginning to
think _we_ really were a proscribed animal in this world of business,
when a strange sensation in my nose, something like what _you_
would call sneezing, occasioned me to look about for the cause that
could produce such a nouvelle effect on my olfactory nerves. I soon
discovered a miserably fragile-looking Donkey, dragging a small railed
cart laden with bags of soot. I have since learned, that any sudden
surprise checks the emotion called sneezing with your genus. Such a
specific was at hand. Hear it, O ye neglected, uncombed Donkeys! a
human being--yes, a man--drove this cart, whose black face and hands
were only rivalled by his sable garb! They call this description of
person a chimney-sweeper; but as it never has proved to me, that
these people have an antipathy to water, I cannot reconcile myself to
the idea of their invariably dirty appearance. My poor fellow-donkey
excited my compassion: his drooping frame seemed little able to drag
his load, yet he was young. Two lines I had heard Mr. George Manton
repeat, occurred to my mind:--
“And most unlike the nature of things young.
That earthwards still thy moveless head is hung.”
Under such circumstances, I really thought shame would have bowed my
head.
How super-eminently fortunate did my lot appear! There was something
invigorating in the idea of carrying fresh garden plants! and I
was actually calculating the chance of a few stray cabbage leaves
occasionally falling to my share, when a completely trimmed vegetable
cart, drawn by a Donkey, obstructed our path. It was in vain I strove
to inhale the freshness of its contents; every thing looked dry and
impoverished, so unlike all I had ever seen, that I knew not how
to believe such trash could meet purchasers. The wretched Donkey
was nearly knee-deep in mud. I shuddered at these specimens of the
estimation in which _we_ were held in London, and scarcely raising my
eyes least I should encounter some new object to pain my sensibility,
we reached Russel Square.
“Would I had been born at Grand Cairo!” sighed I, as I saw Matthew
cleanse his horses after their journey. What though I partook of the
shelter of an elegant stable in a spacious mews; the weight of my
limbs seemed insupportable! and on the instant that I might be called
an inhabitant of the great metropolis, I would have given worlds to
have been transported to the fields of Tunbridge, or any other fields
in which I could have indulged in a roll on the grass. You will think
me a dissatisfied Ass, and perhaps wonder that at such a time my mind
could be occupied by such seeming trifles. Cleanliness is a half
virtue, and it had ever been my habit to practice it to the utmost of
my power. I cannot describe all I thought and felt on this important
day.--Ignorant as I was respecting London habits, I waited, with great
anxiety, the arrival of the family, fully expecting they would visit me
in my new abode. But the carriage was put up, night closed in, and my
hopes were disappointed.
On the ensuing morning brought master Turner to the mews:--he was a
fine boy, full of vivacity, but perfectly conciliating in his manner.
He did me the honour of mounting my back, and expressed himself highly
pleased with me:--only regretting that Donkeys were not rode in London,
or he should have enjoyed an airing in the New Road.
On the subsequent morning a light, compact cart was brought to the
stables, and my harness being fitted, I was led forth by Matthew, who
had orders to take me into the Square, that the young ladies might
see me before I departed. I saw them all standing at the drawing-room
windows; they looked pleased, but by no means gay: I rather think I
was honoured by their mutual regrets at this moment; for as Matthew
received his final directions, the sash was gently raised, and the
words,--“Good bye, poor fellow!” “I declare he looks very nicely,” and
“Pray Matthew tell Mrs. Arnot he is remarkably good-natured, and seldom
requires the whip,” were pronounced. These compassionate sentences fell
on my ears with a sweet but melancholy sound: I scarcely dared raise
my eyes to take a parting glance, so powerfully did the certainty of my
separation affect my spirits.
I was soon called to witness a more pleasing scene:--on our arrival at
a small house, rather agreeably situated in a lane leading out from
the road called Somer’s Town, Matthew (who was highly pleased with his
errand) stopped, and rapping with his whip, Mrs. Arnot answered the
summons.
“Well, old lady, how are ye?” said Matthew. The poor woman replied to
his question by stating her recent loss.
“I know your good young ladies will pity me,” said she; “indeed master
was quite grieved when I told him Dobbin was dead; it is, as I may say,
losing the very bread out of one’s mouth.”
“Why so it would be,” replied Matthew, “if there wasn’t good people in
the world, to help them that can’t help themselves: but what say you to
going partners with me?” laughing. “I think this cart is big enough for
us, in all conscience.”
“You are always merry; but it’s fit you should be, you are young.
That’s a convenient little cart, sure enough, Mr. Matthew, but I hope
you’re not going to leave your place; I should be sorry to hear that.”
“I hope I’m settled for some time,” resumed Matthew: “but I forgot,
I have a bit of paper for you, which will explain my errand;” and
presenting a note to Mrs. Arnot, he waited the effect of her surprise.
“I’m in such a tremble--and I don’t know where I’ve laid my
spectacles,” said she; “your eyes are younger than mine, Matthew, read
it for me.”
“Matthew took the note, and read as follows:--
“MRS. ARNOT,
“We were very sorry to hear of your loss in the poor old horse;
we hope, however, that the cart and Donkey which Matthew has the
pleasure of conveying to you, will answer your purpose, and prevent
your feeling any serious inconvenience. Papa and mama think a lighter
cart will be better for your health and strength. You will call for
orders as usual; and if you find any difficulty in disposing of the
old cart, papa bids us say, he will speak to a person with whom he
has lately had some dealing, and who perhaps may be desirous to
oblige him. Wishing you every success, we are your sincere friends,
“MARIA TURNER,
“EMMA TURNER,
“CHARLOTTE TURNER.”
“Sincere friends!” exclaimed Mrs. Arnot, “they are angels! O, what
children! Mr. Matthew. But let me not forget their dear parents;--it
is they that have trained them up to goodness, and God will reward
them:--they are rewarded, for their children are humble and dutiful,
and will live to repay them for all their cares.” The poor woman seemed
oppressed while paying this tribute to my late patrons. Matthew kindly
drew her attention to her new property, and as he unharnessed me, and
led me to a respectable patch of pasture at the back of the house, I
was gratified by the unfeigned approbation Mrs. Arnot bestowed upon me.
“It will indeed be better suited to my strength,” said she, following
us; “yes master was quite right; if Dobbin had lived, I should ha’ gone
on in the old way. Make my duty to the dear young ladies--you know what
to say as well as I do--tell them I’ve no eyes for writing, or I would
answer their pretty letter, but I’ll keep it as long as I live. You
wont forget, Matthew, to tell ’em how happy they’ve made me. And about
the old cart--pr’aps as master will take the trouble, he would make a
better hand of it than I should. And be sure and say, I will call in
Russel Square the first thing to-morrow. I shall be off to market early
in the morning.”
“Master George guessed as much,” smiled Matthew, taking a bit of paper
from his pocket; “so, as he had no share in the young ladies’ present,
he sent you this one pound note to go to market with.”
My mistress actually shed tears at this proof of Master Turner’s
liberality, and I have no doubt I should have joined her, had she
remained any longer.
She retired with Matthew, and I fell to and made a very tolerable meal
considering the season of the year, and the extent of Mrs. Arnot’s
demesne.
It may argue little in favour of my gentility, when I add, that I
really preferred Somer’s Town to Russel Square. Vaulted stables, and
neatly paved mews, could not reconcile me to the want of herbage;
there is something refreshing to the eye (putting the taste out of the
question) in that universal colour with which providence has clothed
the earth. I was absurdly going to say, that no other colour could
prove so acceptable to the senses, when the very circumstance of its
being a provision of nature makes the fact incontrovertible. We want
neither the sanction of the Poet, nor any conviction but our own
unbiassed judgment to convince us, that in nature’s plan,
“Whatever is, is right.”
The next morning initiated me into the bustle of a market; I have heard
that many Asses have made their debût in the neighbourhood of Covent
Garden, but I really think few if any were ever better received than I
was on my first appearance.
A little audience was collected around me, and though their applause,
was not uniformly expressed in a language to which my ears were
accustomed, Donkeys as well as other animals, can discern what is
intended as compliment, and _vice versâ_.
A very singular looking old lady, who was sitting on an inverted
basket, with a tube in her mouth from which she whiffed a gale by no
means aromatic; this extraordinary personage certainly excited my
surprise, and in retreating a few steps, in order to avoid suffocation,
I forgot an appendage the cart, and coming in contact with a passenger,
had nearly done mischief, when the old lady started from her seat a
flame issuing from her mouth, an seizing my bridle exclaimed,
“Can’t ye be asy now! Sure y’re a great big blockhead, that ye can’t
see y’re killing the craters behind ye.”
It would seem that her reproof sounded equally ludicrous to the
by-standers as myself, laughter ensued, but the good humour of my
reprover did not forsake her; she resumed her seat, until a man
summoned her to carry a load, which it astonished me to see a woman
able to bear. She however went off cheerfully, and I felt something
like a twinge of conscience when I recollected how frequently I had
made a difficulty of trifles; though I could not bring myself to think
of the fair sex, while recurring to the features and person of this
portress. It was sufficient she was a woman, and I grieved at the
necessity which placed her in such a situation.
My mistress was evidently superior to most of the persons assembled
in this place; every body seemed willing to serve her. But though
she received their civilities gratefully, I perceived she was by no
means familiar;--regulating my conduct by her’s, I kept a respectful
distance, not making the least approach to acquaintanceship with any of
the Donkeys in waiting.
Indeed, they were for the most part, of the very lowest order of
Donkeys:--you will ask how I ascertained this? Rest assured gentle
readers, that, as in your species there are orders and degrees in
society, so amongst us, there are well-bred Donkeys, vulgar Donkeys,
and Donkeys that neither ease nor indulgences could render elegant.
But I will never lend a foot (the scribbling member in all Assinine
literature,) to publish what could not edify the public. Indeed, I am
of opinion, that were we indifferent to the failings of our immediate
class, there is danger in delineating vices too faithfully;--in setting
forth the consequences of error, an Author may hope to do some good,
and even should he fail, he retains the consolation of knowing his own
moral taste cannot be questioned.
Upon the honour of a Donkey, who is most solicitous of being considered
an ingenuous Ass, I am literally surprised to find myself thus
wandering from Covent-garden market, to Authorship and its moral
effects.--
Jemmy’s--“himself again.”
Our marketing turned out well; a great proportion of this morning’s
purchase was left in Russel Square, where I looked anxiously for my
good friends--they were out in the carriage, and I saw nothing of them
that day. To dwell on this period of my history would be tedious,
suffice it to say, my days were uniformly quiet and comfortable, no
more labour being required of me than what I could with ease perform.
The Turner family continued to be our best customers, and the sale of
the old cart producing a tolerable sum, my mistress looked forward to
the approach of spring with a satisfaction to which she had for some
years been a stranger. I cannot omit one remark respecting my feeding,
if but to do honour to my mistress: considering me as a sort of partner
in her toils, she never forgot to place fresh water in an old tub set
aside for my use; and many a stale cabbage, aye, and many a fresh leaf
fell to my share when in our journeys she thought I had fasted too
long. Excellent, woman! you deserved a better----What was I going to
say? My gratitude had nearly led me to anticipate what you will find in
the next Chapter.