[Illustration: 550]
“The English are a lord-loving people, there’s no doubt of it,” was
the reflection I could not help making to myself, on hearing the
commentaries pronounced by my fellow-travellers in the North Midland, on
a passenger who had just taken his departure from amongst us. He was
a middle-aged man, of very prepossessing appearance, with a slow,
distinct, and somewhat emphatic mode of speaking. He had joined freely
and affably in the conversation of the party, contributing his share
in the observations made upon the several topics discussed, and always
expressing himself suitably and to the purpose; and although these are
gifts I am by no means ungrateful enough to hold cheaply, yet neither
was I prepared to hear such an universal burst of panegyric as followed
his exit.
“The most agreeable man, so affable, so unaffected.” “Always listened to
with such respect in the Upper House.”
“Splendid place, Treddleton,--eighteen hundred acres, they say, in the
demesne,--such a deer-park too.” “And what a collection of Vandykes!”
“The Duke has a very high opinion of his--”
“Income,--cannot be much under two hundred thousand, I should say.”
Such and such-like were the fragmentary comments upon one who, divested
of so many claims upon the respect and gratitude of his country,
had merely been pronounced a very well-bred and somewhat agreeable
gentleman. To have refused sympathy with a feeling so general would have
been to argue myself a member of the anti-corn law league, the repeal
association, or some similarly minded institution; so that I joined in
the grand chorus around, and manifested the happiness I experienced
in common with the rest, that a lord had travelled in our company, and
neither asked us to sit on the boiler nor on the top of the luggage, but
actually spoke to us and interchanged sentiments, as though we were even
intended by Providence for such communion. One little round-faced man
with a smooth cheek, devoid of beard, a. pair of twinkling gray eyes,
and a light brown wig, did not, however, contribute his suffrage to the
measure thus triumphantly carried, but sat with a very peculiar kind
of simper on his mouth, and with his head turned towards the window, as
though to avoid observation. He, I say, said nothing, but there was that
in the expression of his features that said, “I differ from you,” as
palpably as though he had spoken it out in words.
The theme once started was not soon dismissed; each seemed to vie with
his neighbor in his knowledge of the habits and opinions of the titled
orders, and a number of pleasant little pointless stories were told of
the nobility, which, if I could only remember and retail here, would
show the amiable feeling they entertain for the happiness of all the
world, and how glad they are when every one has enough to eat, and there
is no “leader” in the “Times” about the distress in the manufacturing
districts. The round-faced man eyed the speakers in turn, but never
uttered a word; and it was plain that he was falling very low in the
barometer of public opinion, from his incapacity to contribute a single
noble anecdote, even though the hero should be only a Lord Mayor, when
suddenly he said,--
“There was rather a queer sort of thing happened to me the last time I
went the Nottingham circuit.”
“Oh, do you belong to that circuit?” said a thin-faced old man in
spectacles. “Do you know Fitzroy Kelly?”
“Is he in the hardware line? There was a chap of that name travelled
for Tingle and Crash; but he’s done up, I think. He forged a bill
of exchange in Manchester, and is travelling now in another line of
business.”
“I mean the eminent lawyer, sir,--I know nothing of bagmen.”
“They’re bagmen too,” replied the other, with a little chuckling laugh,
“and pretty samples of honesty they hawk about with them, as I hear; but
no offence, gentlemen,--I’m a CG. myself.”
“A what?” said three or four together.
“A commercial gentleman, in the tape, bobbin, and twist line, for
Rundle, Trundle, and Winningspin’s house, one of the oldest in the
trade.”
Here was a tumble down with a vengeance,--from the noble Earl of Heaven
knows what and where, Knight of the Garter, Grand Cross of the Bath,
Knight of St. Patrick, to a mere C. G.,--a commercial gentleman,
travelling in the tape, bobbin, and twist line for the firm of Rundle,
Trundle, and Winningspin, of Leeds. The operation of steam condensing,
by letting in a stream of cold water, was the only simile I can find
for the sudden revulsion; and as many plethoric sobs, shrugs, and grunts
issued from the party as though they represented an engine under like
circumstances. All the aristocratic associations were put to flight at
once; it seemed profane to remember the Peerage in such company; and
a general silence ensued, each turning from time to time an angry look
towards the little bagman, whose _mal-à-propos_ speech had routed their
illustrious allusions.
Somewhat tired of the stiff and uncomfortable calm that succeeded, I
ventured in a very meek and insinuating tone to remind the little man of
the reminiscence he had already begun, when interrupted by the unlucky
question as to his circuit.
“Oh! it ain’t much of a story,” said he. “I should n’t wonder if the
same kind of thing happens often,--mayhap, too, the gentlemen would not
like to hear it, though they might, after all, for there’s a Duke in
it.”
There was that in the easy simplicity with which he said these words,
vouching for his good temper, which propitiated at once the feelings of
the others; and after a few half-expressed apologies for having already
interrupted him, they begged he would kindly relate the incident to
which he alluded.
“It is about four years since,” said he. “I was then in the
printed-calico way for a house in Nottingham; business was not very
good, my commission nothing to boast of--cotton looking down--nothing
lively but quilted woollens, so that I generally travelled in the third
class train. It wasn’t pleasant, to be sure; the company, at the best of
times, a pretty considerable sprinkling of runaway recruits, prisoners
going to the assizes, and wounded people run over by the last train; but
it was cheap, and that suited me. Well, one morning I took my ticket as
usual, and was about to take my place, when I found every carriage was
full; there was not room for my little portmanteau in one of them; and
so I wandered up and down while the bell was ringing, shoving my ticket
into every one’s face, and swearing I would bring the case before
Parliament, if they did not put on a special train for my own
accommodation, when a smart-looking chap called out to one of the
porters,--
“‘Put that noisy little devil in the coupé; there’s room for him there.’
“And so they whipped my legs from under me, and chucked me in, banged
the door, and said, ‘Go on;’ and just as if the whole thing was waiting
for a commercial traveller to make it all right, away went the train at
twenty miles an hour. When I had time to look around, I perceived that I
had a fellow-traveller, rather tall and gentlemanly, with a sallow
face and dark whiskers; he wore a brown upper-coat, all covered with
velvet,--the collar, the breasts, and even the cuffs,--and I perceived
that he had a pair of fur shoes over his boots,--signs of one who liked
to make himself comfortable. He was reading the ‘Morning Chronicle,’ and
did not desist as I entered, so that I had abundant time to study every
little peculiarity of his personal appearance, unnoticed by him.
“It was plain, from a number of little circumstances, that he belonged
to that class in life who have, so to say, the sunny side of existence.
The handsome rings which sparkled on his fingers, the massive gold
snuff-box which he coolly dropped into the pocket of the carriage, the
splendid repeater by which he checked the speed of the train, as though
to intimate you had better not be behind time with _me_, made me heave
an involuntary sigh over that strange but universal law of Providence by
which the goods of fortune are so unequally distributed. For about two
hours we journeyed thus, when at last my companion, who had opened
in succession some half-dozen newspapers, and, after skimming them
slightly, thrown them at his feet, turned to me, and said,--
“‘Would you like to see the morning papers, sir?’ pointing as he spoke,
with a kind of easy indifference, to the pile before him. ‘There’s the
“Chronicle,” “Times,” “Globe,” “Sun,” and “Examiner;” take your choice,
sir.’
“And with that he yawned, stretched himself, and, letting down the
glass, looked out; thereby turning his back on me, and not paying the
slightest attention to the grateful thanks by which I accepted his
offer.
“‘Devilish haughty,’ thought I; ‘should n’t wonder if he was one of the
great mill-owners here,--great swells they are, I hear.’
“‘Ah! you read the “Times,” I perceive,’ said he, turning round, and
fixing a steadfast and piercing look on me; ‘you read the “Times,”--a
rascally paper, an infamous paper, sir, a dishonest paper. Their
opposition to the new poor law is a mere trick, and their support of the
Peel party a contemptible change of principles.’
“Lord! how I wished I had taken up the ‘Chronicle’! I would have paid a
week’s subscription to have been able to smuggle the ‘Examiner’ into my
hand at that moment.
“‘I ‘m a Whig, sir,’ said he; ‘and neither ashamed nor afraid to
make the avowal,--a Whig of the old Charles Fox school,--a Whig
who understands how to combine the happiness of the people with the
privileges of the aristocracy.’
“And as he spoke he knitted his brows, and frowned at me, as though I
were Jack Cade bent upon pulling down the Church, and annihilating the
monarchy of these realms.
“‘You may think differently,’ continued he,--‘I perceive you do: never
mind, have the manliness to avow your opinions. You may speak freely to
one who is never in the habit of concealing his own; indeed, I flatter
myself that they are pretty well known by this time.’
“‘Who can he be?’ thought I. ‘Lord John is a little man, Lord Melbourne
is a fat one; can it be Lord Nor-manby, or is it Lord Howick?’ And so
I went on to myself, repeating the whole Whig Peerage, and then, coming
down to the Lower House, I went over every name I could think of, down
to the lowest round of the ladder, never stopping till I came to the
member for Sudbury.
“‘It ain’t him,’ thought I; ‘he has a lisp, and never could have such a
fine coat as that.’
“‘Have you considered, sir,’ said he, ‘where your Toryism will lead
you to? Have you reflected that you of the middle class--I presume you
belong to that order?’
“I bowed, and muttered something about printed cottons.
“‘Have you considered that by unjustly denying the rights of the lower
orders under the impression that you are preserving the prerogative of
the throne, that you are really undermining our order?’
“‘God forgive us,’ ejaculated I. ‘I hope we are not.’
“‘But you are,’ said he; ‘it is you, and others like you, who will
not see the anomalous social condition of our country. You make no
concessions until wrung from you; you yield nothing except extorted by
force; the finances of the country are in a ruinous condition,--trade
stagnated.’
“‘Quite true,’ said I; ‘Wriggles and Briggs stopped payment on Tuesday;
there won’t be one and fourpence in the pound.’
“‘D--n Wriggles and Briggs!’ said he; ‘don’t talk to me of such
contemptible cotton-spinner--’
“‘They were in the hardware line,--plated dish-covers, japans, and
bronze fenders.’
“‘Confound their fenders!’ cried he again; ‘it is not of such grubbing
fabricators of frying-pans and fire-irons I speak; it is of the trade of
this mighty nation,--our exports, our imports, our colonial trade, our
foreign trade, our trade with the East, our trade with the West, our
trade with the Hindoos, our trade with the Esquimaux.’
“‘He’s Secretary for the Colonies; he has the whole thing at his
finger-ends.’
[Illustration: 556]
“‘Yes, sir,’ said he, with another frown, ‘our trade with the
Esquimaux.’
“‘Bears are pretty brisk, too,’ said I; ‘but foxes is falling,--there
will be no stir in squirrels till near spring. I heard it myself from
Snaggs, who is in that line.’
“‘D--n Snaggs,’ said he, scowling at me.
“‘Well, d--n him,’ said I, too; ‘he owes me thirteen and fonrpence,
balance of a little account between us.’
“This unlucky speech of mine seemed to have totally disgusted my
aristocratic companion, for he drew his cap down over his eyes, folded
his arms upon his breast, stretched out his legs, and soon fell asleep;
not, however, with such due regard to the privileges of the humbler
classes as became One of his benevolent Whig principles, for he fell
over against me, flattening me into a corner of the vehicle, where he
used me as a bolster, and this for thirty-two miles of the journey.
“‘Where are we?’ said he, starting up suddenly; ‘what’s the name of this
place?’
“‘This is Stretton,’ said I. ‘I must look sharp, for I get out at
Chesterfield.’
“‘Are you known here,’ said my companion, ‘to any one in these parts?’
“‘No,’ said I, ‘it is my first turn on this road.’
“He seemed to reflect for some moments, and then said, ‘You pass the
night at Chesterfield, don’t you?’ and, without waiting for my answer,
added, ‘Well, we ‘ll take a bit of dinner there. You can order it,--six
sharp. Take care they have fish,--it would be as well that you tasted
the sherry; and, mark me! not a word about me;’ and with that he placed
his finger on his lips, as though to impress me with inviolable secrecy.
‘Do you mind, not a word.’
“‘I shall be most happy,’ said I, ‘to have the pleasure of your company;
but there’s no risk of my mentioning your name, as I have not the honor
to know it.’
“‘My name is Cavendish,’ said he, with a very peculiar smile and a toss
of his head, as though to imply that I was something of an ignoramus not
to be aware of it.
“‘Mine is Baggs,’ said I, thinking it only fair to exchange.
“‘With all my heart, Raggs,’ said he, ‘we dine together,--that’s agreed.
You ‘ll see that everything’s right, for I don’t wish to be recognized
down here;’ and at these words, uttered rather in the tone of a
command, my companion opened a pocket-book, and commenced making certain
memoranda with his pencil, totally unmindful of me and of my concurrence
in his arrangements.
“‘Chesterfield, Chesterfield, Chesterfield,--any gentleman for
Chesterfield?’ shouted the porters, opening and shutting doors, as they
cried, with a rapidity well suited to their utterance.
“‘We get out here,’ said I; and my companion at the same moment
descended from the carriage, and, with an air of very aristocratic
indifference, ordered his luggage to be placed in a cab. It was just at
this instant that my eye caught the envelope of one of the newspapers
which had fallen at my feet, and, delighted at this opportunity of
discovering something more of my companion, I took it up and read--what
do you think I read?--true as I sit here, gentlemen, the words were,
‘His Grace the Duke of Devonshire, Devonshire House.’ Lord bless me, if
all Nottingham, had taken the benefit of the act I could n’t be more of
a heap,--a cold shivering came over me at the bare thought of anything I
might have said to so illustrious a personage. ‘No wonder he should d--n
Snaggs,’ thought I. ‘Snaggs is a low, sneaking scoundrel, not fit to
clean his Grace’s shoes.’
“‘Hallo, Raggs, are you ready?’ cried the Duke.
“‘Yes, your Grace--my Lord--yes, sir,’ said I, not knowing how to
conceal my knowledge of his real station. I would have given five
shillings to be let sit outside with the driver, rather than crush
myself into the little cab, and squeeze the Duke up in the corner.
“‘We must have no politics, friend Raggs,’ said he, as we drove
along,--‘you and I can’t agree, that’s plain.’
“‘Heaven forbid, your Grace; that is, sir,’ said I, ‘that I should have
any opinions displeasing to you. My views--’
“‘Are necessarily narrow-minded and miserable. I know it, Raggs. I can
conceive how creatures in your kind of life follow the track of opinion,
just as they do the track of the road, neither daring to think or
reflect for themselves. It is a sad and a humiliating picture of human
nature, and I have often grieved at it.’ Here his Grace blew his nose,
and seemed really affected at the degraded condition of commercial
travellers.
“I must not dwell longer on the conversation between us,--if that,
indeed, be called conversation where the Duke spoke and I listened; for,
from the moment the dinner appeared,--and a very nice little clinner it
was: soup, fish, two roasts, sweets, and a piece of cheese,--his Grace
ate as if he had not a French cook at home, and the best cellar in
England.
“‘What do you drink, Raggs?’ said he; ‘Burgundy is my favorite, though
Brodie says it won’t do for me; at least when I have much to do in
“the House.” Strange thing, very strange thing I am going to mention to
you,--no Cavendish can drink Chambertin,--it is something hereditary.
Chambers mentioned to me one day that very few of the English nobility
are without some little idiosyncrasy of that kind. The Churchills never
can taste gin; the St. Maurs faint if they see strawberries and cream.’
“‘The Baggs,’ said I, ‘never could eat tripe.’ I hope he did n’t say
‘D--n the Baggs;’ but I almost fear he did.
“The Duke ordered up the landlord, and, after getting the whole state
of the cellar made known, desired three bottles of claret to be sent up,
and despatched a messenger through the town to search for olives. ‘We
are very backward, Raggs,’ said he. ‘In England we have no idea of life,
nor shall we, as long as these confounded Tories remain in power. With
free trade, sir, we should have the productions of France and Italy upon
our tables, without the ruinous expenditure they at present cost.’
“‘You don’t much care for that,’ said I, venturing a half-hint at his
condition.
“‘No,’ said he, frankly; ‘I confess I do not. But I am not selfish, and
would extend my good wishes to others. How do you like that Lafitte? A
little tart,--a Very little. It drinks cold,--don’t you think so?’
“‘It is a freezing mixture,’ said I. ‘If I dare to ask for a warm
with--’
“‘Take what you like, Raggs--only don’t ask me to be of the party;’ and
with that he gazed at the wine between himself and the candle with the
glance of a true connoisseur.
[Illustration: 560]
“‘I’ll tell you,’ said he, ‘a little occurrence which happened me some
years since, not far from this; in fact, I may confess to you, it was at
Chatsworth. George the Forth came down on a visit to us for a few days
in the shooting-season,--not that he cared for sport, but it was an
excuse for something to do. Well, the evening he arrived, he dined in
his own apartment, nobody with him but--’
“Just at this instant the landlord entered, with a most obsequious face
and an air of great secrecy.
“‘I beg pardon, gentlemen,’ said he; ‘but there’s a carriage come over
from Chats worth, and the footman won’t give the name of the gentleman
he wants.’
“‘Quite right,--quite right,’ said the Duke, waving his hand. ‘Let the
carriage wait. Come, Raggs, you seem to have nothing before you.’
“‘Bless your Grace,’ said I, ‘I ‘m at the end of my third tumbler.’
“‘Never mind,--mix another;’ and with that he pushed the decanter of
brandy towards me, and filled his own glass to the brim.
“‘Your health, Raggs,--I rather like you. I confess,’ continued he,
‘I’ve had rather a prejudice against your order. There is something
d----d low in cutting about the country with patterns in a bag.’
“‘We don’t,’ said I, rather nettled; ‘we carry a pocket-book like this.’
And here I produced my specimen order; but with one shy of his foot the
Duke sent it flying to the ceiling, as he exclaimed,--
“‘Confound your patchwork!--try to be a gentleman for once!’
“‘So I will, then,’ said I. ‘Here’s your health, Devonshire.’
“‘Take care,--take care,’ said he, solemnly. ‘Don’t dare to take any
liberties with me,--they won’t do;’ and the words made my blood freeze.
“I tossed off a glass neat to gain courage; for my head swam round, and
I thought I saw his Grace sitting before me, in his dress as Knight of
the Garter, with a coronet on his head, his ‘George’ round his neck, and
he was frowning at me most awfully.
“‘I did n’t mean it,’ said I, pitifully. ‘I am only a bagman, but very
well known on the western road,--could get security for three hundred
pounds, any day, in soft goods.’
“‘I am not angry, old Raggs,’ said the Duke. ‘None of my family ever
bear malice. Let us have a toast,--“A speedy return to our rightful
position on the Treasury benches.”’
“I pledged his Grace with every enthusiasm; and when I laid my glass on
the table, he wrung my hand warmly and said,--
“‘Raggs, I must do something for you.’
“From that moment I felt my fortune was made. The friendship--and was I
wrong in giving it that title?--the friendship of such a man was success
assured; and as I sipped my liquor, I ran over in my mind the various
little posts and offices I would accept of or decline. They ‘ll be
offering me some chief-justiceship in Gambia, or to be port-surveyor in
the Isle of Dogs, or something of that kind; but I won’t take it, nor
will I go out as bishop, nor commander of the forces, nor collector of
customs to any newly discovered island in the Pacific Ocean. ‘I must
have something at home here; I never could bear a sea-voyage,’ said I,
aloud, concluding my meditation by this reflection.
“‘Why, you are half-seas-over already, Raggs,’ said the Duke, as he sat
puffing his cigar in all the luxury of a Pacha. ‘I say,’ continued he,
‘do you ever play a hand at _écarté_, or _vingt-et-un_, or any other
game for two?’
“‘I can do a little at five-and-ten,’ said I, timidly; for it is rather
a vulgar game, and I did n’t half fancy confessing it was my favorite.
“‘Five-and-ten!’ said the Duke; ‘that is a game exploded even from
the housekeeper’s room. I doubt if they’d play it in the kitchen of a
respectable family. Can you do nothing else?’
“Pope-joan and pitch-and-toss were then the extent of my
accomplishments; but I was actually afraid to own to them; and so I
shook my head in token of dissent.
“‘Well, be it so,’ said he, with a sigh. ‘Touch that bell, and let us
see if they have a pack of cards in the house.’
“The cards were soon brought, a little table with a green baize
covering--it might have been a hearth-rug for coarseness--placed at the
fire, and down we sat. We played till the day was beginning to break,
chatting and sipping between time; and although the stakes were only
sixpences, the Duke won eight pounds odd shillings, and I had to give
him an order on a house in Leeds for the amount. I cared little for the
loss, it is true. The money was well invested,--somewhat more profitably
than the ‘three-and-a-halfs,’ any way.
“‘Those horses,’ said the Duke,--‘those horses will feel a bit cold
or so by this time. So I think, Raggs, I must take my leave of you. We
shall meet again, I ‘ve no doubt, some of these days. I believe you know
where to find me in town?’
“‘I should think so,’ said I, with a look that conveyed more than mere
words. ‘It is not such a difficult matter.’
“‘Well, then, good-bye, old fellow,’ said he, with as warm a shake of
the hand as ever I felt in my life. ‘Goodbye. I have told you to make
use of me, and, I repeat it, I ‘ll be as good as my word. We are not in
just now; but there ‘s no knowing what may turn up. _Besides, whether in
office or out, we are never without our influence_.’
“What extent of professions my gratitude led me into, I cannot clearly
remember now; but I have a half-recollection of pledging his Grace in
something very strong, and getting a fit of coughing in an attempt
to cheer, amid which he drove off as fast as the horses could travel,
waving me a last adieu from the carriage window.
“As I jogged along the road on the following day, one only passage of
the preceding night kept continually recurring to my mind. Whether it
was that his Grace spoke the words with a peculiar emphasis, or that
this last blow on the drum had erased all memory of previous sounds; but
so it was,--I continued to repeat as I went, ‘Whether in office or out,
we have always our influence.’
“This sentence became my guiding star wherever I went. It supported me
in every casualty and under every misfortune. Wet through with rain,
late for a coach, soaked in a damp bed, half starved by a bad dinner,
overcharged in an inn, upset on the road, without hope, without an
‘order,’ I had only to fall back upon my talisman, and rarely had to
mutter it twice, ere visions of official wealth and power floated before
me, and imagination conjured up gorgeous dreams of bliss, bright enough
to dispel the darkest gloom of evil fortune; and as poets dream of fairy
forms skipping from the bells of flowers by moonlight, and light-footed
elves disporting in the deep cells of water-lilies or sailing along some
glittering stream, the boat a plantain-leaf, so did I revel in imaginary
festivals, surrounded by peers and marquises, and thought I was
hobnobbing with ‘the Duke,’ or dancing a cotillon with Lord Brougham at
Windsor.
“I began to doubt if a highly imaginative temperament, a richly endowed
fancy, a mind glowing with bright and glittering conceptions, an
organization strongly poetical, be gifts suited to the career and
habits of a commercial traveller. The base and grovelling tastes of
manufacturing districts, the low tone of country shopkeepers, the mean
and narrow-minded habits of people in the hardware line, distress
and irritate a man with tastes and aspirations above smoke-jacks and
saucepans. _He_ may, it is true, sometimes undervalue them; _they_
never, by any chance, can understand him. Thus was it from the hour
I made the Duke’s acquaintance,--business went ill with me; the very
philosophy that supported me under all my trial seemed only to offend
them; and more than once I was insulted, because I said at parting,
‘Never mind,--in office or out, we have always our influence.’ The end
of it was, I lost my situation; my employers coolly said that my brain
did n’t seem all right, and they sent me about my business,--a pleasant
phrase that,--for when a man is turned adrift upon the world, without
an object or an occupation, with nowhere to go to, nothing to do, and,
mayhap, nothing to eat, he is then said to be sent about his business.
Can it mean that his only business then is to drown himself? Such
were not my thoughts, assuredly. I made my late master a low bow, and,
muttering my old _refrain_ ‘In office or out,’ etc., took my leave and
walked off. For a day or two I hunted the coffee-houses to read all the
newspapers, and discover, if I could, what government situations were
then vacant; for I knew that the great secret in these matters is always
to ask for some definite post or employment, because the refusal, if you
meet it, suggests the impression of disappointment, and, although they
won’t make you a Treasury Lord, there ‘s no saying but they may appoint
you a Tide-waiter. I fell upon evil days,--excepting a Consul for
Timbuctoo, and a Lord Lieutenant for Ireland, there was nothing
wanting,--the latter actually, as the ‘Times’ said, was going a-begging.
In the corner of the paper, however, almost hidden from view, I
discovered that a collector of customs--I forget where exactly--had
been eaten by a crocodile, and his post was in the gift of the Colonial
Office. ‘Come, here’s the very thing for me,’ thought I. ‘“ In office or
out”--now for it;’ and with that I hurried to my lodgings to dress for
my interview with his Grace of Devonshire.
“There is a strange flutter of expectancy, doubt, and pleasure in the
preparation one makes to visit a person whose exalted sphere and higher
rank have made him a patron to you. It is like the sensation felt on
entering a large shop with your book of patterns, anxious and fearful
whether you may leave without an order. Such in great part were my
feelings as I drove along towards Devonshire House; and although pretty
certain of the cordial reception that awaited me, I did not exactly like
the notion of descending to ask a favor.
“Every stroke of the great knocker was answered by a throb at my own
side, if not as loud, at least as moving, for my summons was left
unanswered for full ten minutes. Then, when I was meditating on
the propriety of a second appeal, the door was opened and a very
sleepy-looking footman asked me, rather gruffly, what I wanted.
“‘To see his Grace; he is at home, is n’t he?’
“‘Yes, he is at home, but you cannot see him at this hour; he’s at
breakfast.’
“‘No matter,’ said I, with the easy confidence our former friendship
inspired; ‘just step up and say Mr. Baggs, of the Northern
Circuit,--Baggs, do you mind?’
“‘I should like to see myself give such a message,’ replied the fellow,
with an insolent drawl; ‘leave your name here, and come back for your
answer.’
“‘Take this, scullion,’ said I, haughtily, drawing forth my card, which
I did n’t fancy producing at first, because it set forth as how I was
commercial traveller in the long hose and flannel way, for a house in
Glasgow. ‘Say he is the gentleman his Grace dined with at Chesterfield
in March last.’
“The mention of a dinner struck the fellow with such amazement that
without venturing another word, or even a glance at my card, he mounted
the stairs to apprise the Duke of my presence.
“‘This way, sir; his Grace will see you,’ said he, in a very modified
tone, as he returned in a few minutes after.
“I threw on him a look of scowling contempt at the alter-ation his
manner had undergone, and followed him upstairs. After passing through
several splendid apartments, he opened one side of a folding-door, and
calling out ‘Mr. Baggs,’ shut it behind me, leaving me in the presence
of a very distinguished-looking personage, seated at breakfast beside
the fire.
“‘I believe you are the person that has the Blenheim spaniels,’ said his
Grace, scarce turning his head towards me as he spoke.
“‘No, my Lord, no,--never had a dog in my life; but are you--are you the
Duke of Devonshire?’ cried I, in a very faltering voice.
“‘I believe so, sir,’ said he, standing up and gazing at me with a look
of bewildered astonishment I can never forget.
“‘Dear me,’ said I, ‘how your Grace is altered! You were as large again
last April, when we travelled down to Nottingham. Them light French
wines, they are ruining your constitution; I knew they would.’
“The Duke made no answer, but rang the bell violently for some seconds.
“‘Bless my heart,’ said I, ‘it surely can’t be that I ‘m mistaken. It’s
not possible it wasn’t your Grace.’
“‘Who is this man?’ said the Duke, as the servant appeared in answer to
the bell. ‘Who let him upstairs?’
“‘Mr. Baggs, your Grace,’ he said. ‘He dined with your Grace at--’
“‘Take him away, give him in charge to the police; the fellow must be
punished for his insolence.’
“My head was whirling, and my faculties were all astray. I neither knew
what I said, nor what happened after, save that I felt myself half led,
half pushed, down the stairs I had mounted so confidently five minutes
before, while the liveried rascal kept dinning into my ears some threats
about two months’ imprisonment and hard labor. Just as we were passing
through the hall, however, the door of a front-parlor opened, and a
gentleman in a very elegant dressing-gown stepped out. I had neither
time nor inclination to mark his features,--my own case absorbed me
too completely. ‘I am an unlucky wretch,’ said I, aloud. ‘Nothing ever
prospers with me.’
“‘Cheer up, old boy,’ said he of the dressing-gown: ‘fortune will take
another turn yet; but I do confess you hold miserable cards.’
“The voice as he spoke aroused me. I turned about, and there stood my
companion at Chesterfield.
“‘His Grace wants you, Mr. Cavendish,’ said the footman, as he opened
the door for me.
“‘Let him go, Thomas,’ said Mr. Cavendish. ‘There’s no harm in old
Raggs.’
“‘Isn’t he the Duke?’ gasped I, as he tripped upstairs without noticing
me further.
“‘The Duke,--no, bless your heart, he’s his gentleman!’
“Here was an end of all my cherished hopes and dreams of patronage. The
aristocratic leader of fashion, the great owner of palaces, the Whig
autocrat, tumbled down into a creature that aired newspapers and scented
pocket-handkerchiefs. Never tell me of the manners of the titled classes
again. Here was a specimen that will satisfy my craving for a life long;
and if the reflection be so strong, what must be the body which causes
it!”
[Illustration: 567]