TELLS HOW THE DIAMOND IS BROUGHT UP TO LONDON, AND PRODUCES WONDERFUL
EFFECTS BOTH IN THE CITY AND AT THE WEST END
The circumstances recorded in this story took place some score of years
ago, when, as the reader may remember, there was a great mania in the
City of London for establishing companies of all sorts; by which many
people made pretty fortunes.
I was at this period, as the truth must be known, thirteenth clerk of
twenty-four young gents who did the immense business of the Independent
West Diddlesex Fire and Life Insurance Company, at their splendid stone
mansion in Cornhill. Mamma had sunk a sum of four hundred pounds in the
purchase of an annuity at this office, which paid her no less than six-
and-thirty pounds a year, when no other company in London would give her
more than twenty-four. The chairman of the directors was the great Mr.
Brough, of the house of Brough and Hoff, Crutched Friars, Turkey
Merchants. It was a new house, but did a tremendous business in the fig
and sponge way, and more in the Zante currant line than any other firm in
the City.
Brough was a great man among the Dissenting connection, and you saw his
name for hundreds at the head of every charitable society patronised by
those good people. He had nine clerks residing at his office in Crutched
Friars; he would not take one without a certificate from the schoolmaster
and clergyman of his native place, strongly vouching for his morals and
doctrine; and the places were so run after, that he got a premium of four
or five hundred pounds with each young gent, whom he made to slave for
ten hours a day, and to whom in compensation he taught all the mysteries
of the Turkish business. He was a great man on 'Change, too; and our
young chaps used to hear from the stockbrokers' clerks (we commonly dined
together at the "Cock and Woolpack," a respectable house, where you get a
capital cut of meat, bread, vegetables, cheese, half a pint of porter,
and a penny to the waiter, for a shilling)--the young stockbrokers used
to tell us of immense bargains in Spanish, Greek, and Columbians, that
Brough made. Hoff had nothing to do with them, but stopped at home
minding exclusively the business of the house. He was a young chap, very
quiet and steady, of the Quaker persuasion, and had been taken into
partnership by Brough for a matter of thirty thousand pounds: and a very
good bargain too. I was told in the strictest confidence that the house
one year with another divided a good seven thousand pounds: of which
Brough had half, Hoff two-sixths, and the other sixth went to old Tudlow,
who had been Mr. Brough's clerk before the new partnership began. Tudlow
always went about very shabby, and we thought him an old miser. One of
our gents, Bob Swinney by name, used to say that Tudlow's share was all
nonsense, and that Brough had it all; but Bob was always too knowing by
half, used to wear a green cutaway coat, and had his free admission to
Covent Garden Theatre. He was always talking down at the shop, as we
called it (it wasn't a shop, but as splendid an office as any in
Cornhill)--he was always talking about Vestris and Miss Tree, and singing
"The bramble, the bramble,
The jolly jolly bramble!"
one of Charles Kemble's famous songs in "Maid Marian;" a play that was
all the rage then, taken from a famous story-book by one Peacock, a clerk
in the India House; and a precious good place he has too.
When Brough heard how Master Swinney abused him, and had his admission to
the theatre, he came one day down to the office where we all were, four-
and-twenty of us, and made one of the most beautiful speeches I ever
heard in my life. He said that for slander he did not care, contumely
was the lot of every public man who had austere principles of his own,
and acted by them austerely; but what he _did_ care for was the character
of every single gentleman forming a part of the Independent West
Diddlesex Association. The welfare of thousands was in their keeping;
millions of money were daily passing through their hands; the City--the
country looked upon them for order, honesty, and good example. And if he
found amongst those whom he considered as his children--those whom he
loved as his own flesh and blood--that that order was departed from, that
that regularity was not maintained, that that good example was not kept
up (Mr. B. always spoke in this emphatic way)--if he found his children
departing from the wholesome rules of morality, religion, and decorum--if
he found in high or low--in the head clerk at six hundred a year down to
the porter who cleaned the steps--if he found the slightest taint of
dissipation, he would cast the offender from him--yea, though he were his
own son, he would cast him from him!
As he spoke this, Mr. Brough burst into tears; and we who didn't know
what was coming, looked at each other as pale as parsnips: all except
Swinney, who was twelfth clerk, and made believe to whistle. When Mr. B.
had wiped his eyes and recovered himself, he turned round; and oh, how my
heart thumped as he looked me full in the face! How it was relieved,
though, when he shouted out in a thundering voice--
"Mr. ROBERT SWINNEY!"
"Sir to you," says Swinney, as cool as possible, and some of the chaps
began to titter.
"Mr. SWINNEY!" roared Brough, in a voice still bigger than before, "when
you came into this office--this family, sir, for such it is, as I am
proud to say--you found three-and-twenty as pious and well-regulated
young men as ever laboured together--as ever had confided to them the
wealth of this mighty capital and famous empire. You found, sir,
sobriety, regularity, and decorum; no profane songs were uttered in this
place sacred to--to business; no slanders were whispered against the
heads of the establishment--but over them I pass: I can afford, sir, to
pass them by--no worldly conversation or foul jesting disturbed the
attention of these gentlemen, or desecrated the peaceful scene of their
labours. You found Christians and gentlemen, sir!"
"I paid for my place like the rest," said Swinney. "Didn't my governor
take sha-?"
"Silence, sir! Your worthy father did take shares in this establishment,
which will yield him one day an immense profit. He _did_ take shares,
sir, or you never would have been here. I glory in saying that every one
of my young friends around me has a father, a brother, a dear relative or
friend, who is connected in a similar way with our glorious enterprise;
and that not one of them is there but has an interest in procuring, at a
liberal commission, other persons to join the ranks of our Association.
_But_, sir, I am its chief. You will find, sir, your appointment signed
by me; and in like manner, I, John Brough, annul it. Go from us,
sir!--leave us--quit a family that can no longer receive you in its
bosom! Mr. Swinney, I have wept--I have prayed, sir, before I came to
this determination; I have taken counsel, sir, and am resolved. _Depart
from out of us_!
"Not without three months' salary, though, Mr. B.: that cock won't
fight!"
"They shall be paid to your father, sir."
"My father be hanged! I tell you what, Brough, I'm of age; and if you
don't pay me my salary, I'll arrest you,--by Jingo, I will! I'll have
you in quod, or my name's not Bob Swinney!"
"Make out a cheque, Mr. Roundhand, for the three months' salary of this
perverted young man."
"Twenty-one pun' five, Roundhand, and nothing for the stamp!" cried out
that audacious Swinney. "There it is, sir, _re_-ceipted. You needn't
cross it to my banker's. And if any of you gents like a glass of punch
this evening at eight o'clock, Bob Swinney's your man, and nothing to
pay. If Mr. Brough _would_ do me the honour to come in and take a whack?
Come, don't say no, if you'd rather not!"
We couldn't stand this impudence, and all burst out laughing like mad.
"Leave the room!" yelled Mr. Brough, whose face had turned quite blue;
and so Bob took his white hat off the peg, and strolled away with his
"tile," as he called it, very much on one side. When he was gone, Mr.
Brough gave us another lecture, by which we all determined to profit; and
going up to Roundhand's desk put his arm round his neck, and looked over
the ledger.
"What money has been paid in to-day, Roundhand?" he said, in a very kind
way.
"The widow, sir, came with her money; nine hundred and four ten and
six--say 904_l_. 10_s_. 6_d_. Captain Sparr, sir, paid his shares up;
grumbles, though, and says he's no more: fifty shares, two
instalments--three fifties, sir."
"He's always grumbling!"
"He says he has not a shilling to bless himself with until our dividend
day."
"Any more?"
Mr. Roundhand went through the book, and made it up nineteen hundred
pounds in all. We were doing a famous business now; though when I came
into the office, we used to sit, and laugh, and joke, and read the
newspapers all day; bustling into our seats whenever a stray customer
came. Brough never cared about our laughing and singing _then_, and was
hand and glove with Bob Swinney; but that was in early times, before we
were well in harness.
"Nineteen hundred pounds, and a thousand pounds in shares. Bravo,
Roundhand--bravo, gentlemen! Remember, every share you bring in brings
you five per cent. down on the nail! Look to your friends--stick to your
desks--be regular--I hope none of you forget church. Who takes Mr.
Swinney's place?"
"Mr. Samuel Titmarsh, sir."
"Mr. Titmarsh, I congratulate you. Give me your hand, sir: you are now
twelfth clerk of this Association, and your salary is consequently
increased five pounds a year. How is your worthy mother, sir--your dear
and excellent parent? In good health I trust? And long--long, I
fervently pray, may this office continue to pay her annuity! Remember,
if she has more money to lay out, there is higher interest than the last
for her, for she is a year older; and five per cent. for you, my boy! Why
not you as well as another? Young men will be young men, and a ten-pound
note does no harm. Does it, Mr. Abednego?"
"Oh, no!" says Abednego, who was third clerk, and who was the chap that
informed against Swinney; and he began to laugh, as indeed we all did
whenever Mr. Brough made anything like a joke: not that they _were_
jokes; only we used to know it by his face.
"Oh, by-the-bye, Roundhand," says he, "a word with you on business. Mrs.
Brough wants to know why the deuce you never come down to Fulham."
"Law, that's very polite!" said Mr. Roundhand, quite pleased.
"Name your day, my boy! Say Saturday, and bring your night-cap with
you."
"You're very polite, I'm sure. I should be delighted beyond anything,
but--"
"But--no buts, my boy! Hark ye! the Chancellor of the Exchequer does me
the honour to dine with us, and I want you to see him; for the truth is,
I have bragged about you to his Lordship as the best actuary in the three
kingdoms."
Roundhand could not refuse such an invitation as _that_, though he had
told us how Mrs. R. and he were going to pass Saturday and Sunday at
Putney; and we who knew what a life the poor fellow led, were sure that
the head clerk would be prettily scolded by his lady when she heard what
was going on. She disliked Mrs. Brough very much, that was the fact;
because Mrs. B. kept a carriage, and said she didn't know where
Pentonville was, and couldn't call on Mrs. Roundhand. Though, to be
sure, her coachman might have found out the way.
"And oh, Roundhand!" continued our governor, "draw a cheque for seven
hundred, will you! Come, don't stare, man; I'm not going to run away!
That's right,--seven hundred--and ninety, say, while you're about it! Our
board meets on Saturday, and never fear I'll account for it to them
before I drive you down. We shall take up the Chancellor at Whitehall."
So saying, Mr. Brough folded up the cheque, and shaking hands with Mr.
Roundhand very cordially, got into his carriage-and-four (he always drove
four horses even in the City, where it's so difficult), which was waiting
at the office-door for him.
Bob Swinney used to say that he charged two of the horses to the Company;
but there was never believing half of what that Bob said, he used to
laugh and joke so. I don't know how it was, but I and a gent by the name
of Hoskins (eleventh clerk), who lived together with me in Salisbury
Square, Fleet Street--where we occupied a very genteel two-pair--found
our flute duet rather tiresome that evening, and as it was a very fine
night, strolled out for a walk West End way. When we arrived opposite
Covent Garden Theatre we found ourselves close to the "Globe Tavern," and
recollected Bob Swinney's hospitable invitation. We never fancied that
he had meant the invitation in earnest, but thought we might as well look
in: at any rate there could be no harm in doing so.
There, to be sure, in the back drawing-room, where he said he would be,
we found Bob at the head of a table, and in the midst of a great smoke of
cigars, and eighteen of our gents rattling and banging away at the table
with the bottoms of their glasses.
What a shout they made as we came in! "Hurray!" says Bob, "here's two
more! Two more chairs, Mary, two more tumblers, two more hot waters, and
two more goes of gin! Who would have thought of seeing Tit, in the name
of goodness?"
"Why," said I, "we only came in by the merest chance."
At this word there was another tremendous roar: and it is a positive
fact, that every man of the eighteen had said he came by chance! However,
chance gave us a very jovial night; and that hospitable Bob Swinney paid
every shilling of the score.
"Gentlemen!" says he, as he paid the bill, "I'll give you the health of
John Brough, Esquire, and thanks to him for the present of 21_l_. 5_s_.
which he made me this morning. What do I say--21_l_. 5_s_.? That and a
month's salary that I should have had to pay--forfeit--down on the nail,
by Jingo! for leaving the shop, as I intended to do to-morrow morning.
I've got a place--a tip-top place, I tell you. Five guineas a week, six
journeys a year, my own horse and gig, and to travel in the West of
England in oil and spermaceti. Here's confusion to gas, and the health
of Messrs. Gann and Co., of Thames Street, in the City of London!"
I have been thus particular in my account of the West Diddlesex Insurance
Office, and of Mr. Brough, the managing director (though the real names
are neither given to the office nor to the chairman, as you may be sure),
because the fate of me and my diamond pin was mysteriously bound up with
both: as I am about to show.
You must know that I was rather respected among our gents at the West
Diddlesex, because I came of a better family than most of them; had
received a classical education; and especially because I had a rich aunt,
Mrs. Hoggarty, about whom, as must be confessed, I used to boast a good
deal. There is no harm in being respected in this world, as I have found
out; and if you don't brag a little for yourself, depend on it there is
no person of your acquaintance who will tell the world of your merits,
and take the trouble off your hands.
So that when I came back to the office after my visit at home, and took
my seat at the old day-book opposite the dingy window that looks into
Birchin Lane, I pretty soon let the fellows know that Mrs. Hoggarty,
though she had not given me a large sum of money, as I expected--indeed,
I had promised a dozen of them a treat down the river, should the
promised riches have come to me--I let them know, I say, that though my
aunt had not given me any money, she had given me a splendid diamond,
worth at least thirty guineas, and that some day I would sport it at the
shop.
"Oh, let's see it!" says Abednego, whose father was a mock-jewel and gold-
lace merchant in Hanway Yard; and I promised that he should have a sight
of it as soon as it was set. As my pocket-money was run out too (by
coach-hire to and from home, five shillings to our maid at home, ten to
my aunt's maid and man, five-and-twenty shillings lost at whist, as I
said, and fifteen-and-six paid for a silver scissors for the dear little
fingers of Somebody), Roundhand, who was very good-natured, asked me to
dine, and advanced me 7_l_. 1_s_. 8_d_., a month's salary. It was at
Roundhand's house, Myddelton Square, Pentonville, over a fillet of veal
and bacon and a glass of port, that I learned and saw how his wife ill-
treated him; as I have told before. Poor fellow!--we under-clerks all
thought it was a fine thing to sit at a desk by oneself, and have 50_l_.
per month, as Roundhand had; but I've a notion that Hoskins and I,
blowing duets on the flute together in our second floor in Salisbury
Square, were a great deal more at ease than our head--and more _in
harmony_, too; though we made sad work of the music, certainly.
One day Gus Hoskins and I asked leave from Roundhand to be off at three
o'clock, as we had _particular business_ at the West End. He knew it was
about the great Hoggarty diamond, and gave us permission; so off we set.
When we reached St. Martin's Lane, Gus got a cigar, to give himself as it
were a _distingue_ air, and pulled at it all the way up the Lane, and
through the alleys into Coventry Street, where Mr. Polonius's shop is, as
everybody knows.
The door was open, and a number of carriages full of ladies were drawing
up and setting down. Gus kept his hands in his pockets--trousers were
worn very full then, with large tucks, and pigeon-holes for your boots,
or Bluchers, to come through (the fashionables wore boots, but we chaps
in the City, on 80_l_. a year, contented ourselves with Bluchers); and as
Gus stretched out his pantaloons as wide as he could from his hips, and
kept blowing away at his cheroot, and clamping with the iron heels of his
boots, and had very large whiskers for so young a man, he really looked
quite the genteel thing, and was taken by everybody to be a person of
consideration.
He would not come into the shop though, but stood staring at the gold
pots and kettles in the window outside. I went in; and after a little
hemming and hawing--for I had never been at such a fashionable place
before--asked one of the gentlemen to let me speak to Mr. Polonius.
"What can I do for you, sir?" says Mr. Polonius, who was standing close
by, as it happened, serving three ladies,--a very old one and two young
ones, who were examining pearl necklaces very attentively.
"Sir," said I, producing my jewel out of my coat-pocket, "this jewel has,
I believe, been in your house before: it belonged to my aunt, Mrs.
Hoggarty, of Castle Hoggarty." The old lady standing near looked round
as I spoke.
"I sold her a gold neck-chain and repeating watch in the year 1795," said
Mr. Polonius, who made it a point to recollect everything; "and a silver
punch-ladle to the Captain. How is the Major--Colonel--General--eh,
sir?"
"The General," said I, "I am sorry to say"--though I was quite proud that
this man of fashion should address me so.--"Mr. Hoggarty is--no more. My
aunt has made me a present, however, of this--this trinket--which, as you
see, contains her husband's portrait, that I will thank you, sir, to
preserve for me very carefully; and she wishes that you would set this
diamond neatly."
"Neatly and handsomely, of course, sir."
"Neatly, in the present fashion; and send down the account to her. There
is a great deal of gold about the trinket, for which, of course, you will
make an allowance."
"To the last fraction of a sixpence," says Mr. Polonius, bowing, and
looking at the jewel. "It's a wonderful piece of goods, certainly," said
he; "though the diamond's a neat little bit, certainly. Do, my Lady,
look at it. The thing is of Irish manufacture, bears the stamp of '95,
and will recall perhaps the times of your Ladyship's earliest youth."
"Get ye out, Mr. Polonius!" said the old lady, a little wizen-faced old
lady, with her face puckered up in a million of wrinkles. "How _dar_
you, sir, to talk such nonsense to an old woman like me? Wasn't I fifty
years old in '95, and a grandmother in '96?" She put out a pair of
withered trembling hands, took up the locket, examined it for a minute,
and then burst out laughing: "As I live, it's the great Hoggarty
diamond!"
Good heavens! what was this talisman that had come into my possession?
"Look, girls," continued the old lady: "this is the great jew'l of all
Ireland. This red-faced man in the middle is poor Mick Hoggarty, a
cousin of mine, who was in love with me in the year '84, when I had just
lost your poor dear grandpapa. These thirteen sthreamers of red hair
represent his thirteen celebrated sisters,--Biddy, Minny, Thedy, Widdy
(short for Williamina), Freddy, Izzy, Tizzy, Mysie, Grizzy, Polly, Dolly,
Nell, and Bell--all married, all ugly, and all carr'ty hair. And of
which are you the son, young man?--though, to do you justice, you're not
like the family."
Two pretty young ladies turned two pretty pairs of black eyes at me, and
waited for an answer: which they would have had, only the old lady began
rattling on a hundred stories about the thirteen ladies above named, and
all their lovers, all their disappointments, and all the duels of Mick
Hoggarty. She was a chronicle of fifty-years-old scandal. At last she
was interrupted by a violent fit of coughing; at the conclusion of which
Mr. Polonius very respectfully asked me where he should send the pin, and
whether I would like the hair kept.
"No," says I, "never mind the hair."
"And the pin, sir?"
I had felt ashamed about telling my address: "But, bang it!" thought I,
"why _should_ I?--
'A king can make a belted knight,
A marquess, duke, and a' that;
An honest man's abune his might--
Gude faith, he canna fa' that.'
Why need I care about telling these ladies where I live?"
"Sir," says I, "have the goodness to send the parcel, when done, to Mr.
Titmarsh, No. 3 Bell Lane, Salisbury Square, near St. Bride's Church,
Fleet Street. Ring, if you please, the two-pair bell."
"_What_, sir?" said Mr. Polonius.
"_Hwat_!" shrieked the old lady. "Mr. Hwat? Mais, ma chere, c'est
impayable. Come along--here's the carr'age! Give me your arm, Mr. Hwat,
and get inside, and tell me all about your thirteen aunts."
She seized on my elbow and hobbled through the shop as fast as possible;
the young ladies following her, laughing.
"Now, jump in, do you hear?" said she, poking her sharp nose out of the
window.
"I can't, ma'am," says I; "I have a friend."
"Pooh, pooh! send 'um to the juice, and jump in!" And before almost I
could say a word, a great powdered fellow in yellow-plush breeches pushed
me up the steps and banged the door to.
I looked just for one minute as the barouche drove away at Hoskins, and
never shall forget his figure. There stood Gus, his mouth wide open, his
eyes staring, a smoking cheroot in his hand, wondering with all his might
at the strange thing that had just happened to me.
"Who _is_ that Titmarsh?" says Gus: "there's a coronet on the carriage,
by Jingo!"