I played my game so well, thanks to the information that my friend the

lawyer had given me, that in a month I had got the widow to show a most

decided partiality for me. I sat by her at dinner, I drank with her

at the “Wells”--I rode with her, I danced with her, and at a picnic to

Kenilworth, where we drank a good deal of champagne, I actually popped

the question, and was accepted. In another month, Robert Stubbs, Esq.,

led to the altar, Leah, widow of the late Z. Manasseh, Esq., of St.

Kitt's!

*****

We drove up to London in her comfortable chariot: the children and

servants following in a post-chaise. I paid, of course, for everything;

and until our house in Berkeley Square was painted, we stopped at

“Stevens's Hotel.”

*****

My own estate had been sold, and the money was lying at a bank in the

City. About three days after our arrival, as we took our breakfast in

the hotel, previous to a visit to Mrs. Stubbs's banker, where certain

little transfers were to be made, a gentleman was introduced, who, I saw

at a glance, was of my wife's persuasion.

He looked at Mrs. Stubbs, and made a bow. “Perhaps it will be convenient

to you to pay this little bill, one hundred and fifty-two pounds?”

“My love,” says she, “will you pay this--it is a trifle which I had

really forgotten?”

“My soul!” said I, “I have really not the money in the house.”

“Vel, denn, Captain Shtubbsh,” says he, “I must do my duty--and arrest

you--here is the writ! Tom, keep the door?” My wife fainted--the

children screamed, and I fancy my condition as I was obliged to march

off to a spunging-house along with a horrid sheriff's officer?

OCTOBER.--MARS AND VENUS IN OPPOSITION.

I shall not describe my feelings when I found myself in a cage in

Cursitor Street, instead of that fine house in Berkeley Square, which

was to have been mine as the husband of Mrs. Manasseh. What a place!--in

an odious, dismal street leading from Chancery Lane. A hideous Jew boy

opened the second of three doors and shut it when Mr. Nabb and I (almost

fainting) had entered; then he opened the third door, and then I was

introduced to a filthy place called a coffee-room, which I exchanged for

the solitary comfort of a little dingy back-parlor, where I was left for

a while to brood over my miserable fate. Fancy the change between this

and Berkeley Square! Was I, after all my pains, and cleverness, and

perseverance, cheated at last? Had this Mrs. Manasseh been imposing

upon me, and were the words of the wretch I met at the table-d'hote at

Leamington only meant to mislead me and take me in? I determined to send

for my wife, and know the whole truth. I saw at once that I had been the

victim of an infernal plot, and that the carriage, the house in town,

the West India fortune, were only so many lies which I had blindly

believed. It was true that the debt was but a hundred and fifty pounds;

and I had two thousand at my bankers'. But was the loss of HER 80,000L.

nothing? Was the destruction of my hopes nothing? The accursed addition

to my family of a Jewish wife and three Jewish children, nothing? And

all these I was to support out of my two thousand pounds. I had better

have stopped at home with my mamma and sisters, whom I really did love,

and who produced me eighty pounds a year.

I had a furious interview with Mrs. Stubbs; and when I charged her, the

base wretch! with cheating me, like a brazen serpent as she was, she

flung back the cheat in my teeth, and swore I had swindled her. Why did

I marry her, when she might have had twenty others? She only took me,

she said, because I had twenty thousand pounds. I HAD said I possessed

that sum; but in love, you know, and war all's fair.

We parted quite as angrily as we met; and I cordially vowed that when I

had paid the debt into which I had been swindled by her, I would take

my 2,000L. and depart to some desert island; or, at the very least, to

America, and never see her more, or any of her Israelitish brood. There

was no use in remaining in the spunging-house (for I knew that there

were such things as detainers, and that where Mrs. Stubbs owed a hundred

pounds, she might owe a thousand) so I sent for Mr. Nabb, and tendering

him a cheque for 150L. and his costs, requested to be let out forthwith.

“Here, fellow,” said I, “is a cheque on Child's for your paltry sum.”

“It may be a sheck on Shild's,” says Mr. Nabb; “but I should be a baby

to let you out on such a paper as dat.”

“Well,” said I, “Child's is but a step from this: you may go and get the

cash,--just give me an acknowledgment.”

Nabb drew out the acknowledgment with great punctuality, and set off

for the bankers', whilst I prepared myself for departure from this

abominable prison.

He smiled as he came in. “Well,” said I, “you have touched your money;

and now, I must tell you, that you are the most infernal rogue and

extortioner I ever met with.”

“Oh, no, Mishter Shtubbsh,” says he, grinning still. “Dere is som

greater roag dan me,--mosh greater.”

“Fellow,” said I, “don't stand grinning before a gentleman; but give me

my hat and cloak, and let me leave your filthy den.”

“Shtop, Shtubbsh,” says he, not even Mistering me this time. “Here ish a

letter, vich you had better read.”

I opened the letter; something fell to the ground:--it was my cheque.

The letter ran thus: “Messrs. Child and Co. present their compliments to

Captain Stubbs, and regret that they have been obliged to refuse payment

of the enclosed, having been served this day with an attachment by

Messrs. Solomonson and Co., which compels them to retain Captain Stubbs'

balance of 2,010L. 11s. 6d. until the decision of the suit of Solomonson

v. Stubbs.

“FLEET STREET.”

“You see,” says Mr. Nabb, as I read this dreadful letter--“you see,

Shtubbsh, dere vas two debts,--a little von and a big von. So dey

arrested you for de little von, and attashed your money for de big von.”

Don't laugh at me for telling this story. If you knew what tears are

blotting over the paper as I write it--if you knew that for weeks after

I was more like a madman than a sane man,--a madman in the Fleet Prison,

where I went instead of to the desert island! What had I done to deserve

it? Hadn't I always kept an eye to the main chance? Hadn't I lived

economically, and not like other young men? Had I ever been known to

squander or give away a single penny? No! I can lay my hand on my heart,

and, thank heaven, say, No! Why, why was I punished so?

Let me conclude this miserable history. Seven months--my wife saw me

once or twice, and then dropped me altogether--I remained in that fatal

place. I wrote to my dear mamma, begging her to sell her furniture, but

got no answer. All my old friends turned their backs upon me. My action

went against me--I had not a penny to defend it. Solomonson proved my

wife's debt, and seized my two thousand pounds. As for the detainer

against me, I was obliged to go through the court for the relief of

insolvent debtors. I passed through it, and came out a beggar. But

fancy the malice of that wicked Stiffelkind: he appeared in court as my

creditor for 3L., with sixteen years' interest at five per cent, for a

PAIR OF TOP-BOOTS. The old thief produced them in court, and told the

whole story--Lord Cornwallis, the detection, the pumping and all.

Commissioner Dubobwig was very funny about it. “So Doctor Swishtail

would not pay you for the boots, eh, Mr. Stiffelkind?”

“No: he said, ven I asked him for payment, dey was ordered by a yong

boy, and I ought to have gone to his schoolmaster.”

“What! then you came on a BOOTLESS errand, ay, sir?” (A laugh.)

“Bootless! no sare, I brought de boots back vid me. How de devil else

could I show dem to you?” (Another laugh.)

“You've never SOLED 'em since, Mr. Tickleshins?”

“I never would sell dem; I svore I never vood, on porpus to be revenged

on dat Stobbs.”

“What! your wound has never been HEALED, eh?”

“Vat do you mean vid your bootless errands, and your soling and healing?

I tell you I have done vat I svore to do: I have exposed him at school;

I have broak off a marriage for him, ven he vould have had tventy

tousand pound; and now I have showed him up in a court of justice. Dat

is vat I 'ave done, and dat's enough.” And then the old wretch went

down, whilst everybody was giggling and staring at poor me--as if I was

not miserable enough already.

“This seems the dearest pair of boots you ever had in your life, Mr.

Stubbs,” said Commissioner Dubobwig very archly, and then he began to

inquire about the rest of my misfortunes.

In the fulness of my heart I told him the whole of them: how Mr.

Solomonson the attorney had introduced me to the rich widow, Mrs.

Manasseh, who had fifty thousand pounds, and an estate in the West

Indies. How I was married, and arrested on coming to town, and cast

in an action for two thousand pounds brought against me by this very

Solomonson for my wife's debts.

“Stop!” says a lawyer in the court. “Is this woman a showy black-haired

woman with one eye? very often drunk, with three children?--Solomonson,

short, with red hair?”

“Exactly so,” said I, with tears in my eyes.

“That woman has married THREE MEN within the last two years. One in

Ireland, and one at Bath. A Solomonson is, I believe, her husband, and

they both are off for America ten days ago.”

“But why did you not keep your 2,000L.?” said the lawyer.

“Sir, they attached it.”

“Oh, well, we may pass you. You have been unlucky, Mr. Stubbs, but it

seems as if the biter had been bit in this affair.”

“No,” said Mr. Dubobwig. “Mr. Stubbs is the victim of a FATAL

ATTACHMENT.”

NOVEMBER.--A GENERAL POST DELIVERY.

I was a free man when I went out of the Court; but I was a beggar--I,

Captain Stubbs, of the bold North Bungays, did not know where I could

get a bed, or a dinner.

As I was marching sadly down Portugal Street, I felt a hand on my

shoulder and a rough voice which I knew well.

“Vell, Mr. Stobbs, have I not kept my promise? I told you dem boots

would be your ruin.”

I was much too miserable to reply; and only cast my eyes towards the

roofs of the houses, which I could not see for the tears.

“Vat! you begin to gry and blobber like a shild? you vood marry, vood

you? and noting vood do for you but a vife vid monny--ha, ha--but you

vere de pigeon, and she was de grow. She has plocked you, too, pretty

vell--eh? ha! ha!”

“Oh, Mr. Stiffelkind,” said I, “don't laugh at my misery: she has not

left me a single shilling under heaven. And I shall starve: I do believe

I shall starve.” And I began to cry fit to break my heart.

“Starf! stoff and nonsense! You vill never die of starfing--you vill die

of HANGING, I tink--ho! ho!--and it is moch easier vay too.” I didn't

say a word, but cried on; till everybody in the street turned round and

stared.

“Come, come,” said Stiffelkind, “do not gry, Gaptain Stobbs--it is not

goot for a Gaptain to gry--ha! ha! Dere--come vid me, and you shall have

a dinner, and a bregfast too,--vich shall gost you nothing, until you

can bay vid your earnings.”

And so this curious old man, who had persecuted me all through my

prosperity, grew compassionate towards me in my ill-luck; and took me

home with him as he promised. “I saw your name among de Insolvents, and

I vowed, you know, to make you repent dem boots. Dere, now, it is done

and forgotten, look you. Here, Betty, Bettchen, make de spare bed, and

put a clean knife and fork; Lort Cornvallis is come to dine vid me.”

I lived with this strange old man for six weeks. I kept his books, and

did what little I could to make myself useful: carrying about boots and

shoes, as if I had never borne his Majesty's commission. He gave me no

money, but he fed and lodged me comfortably. The men and boys used

to laugh, and call me General, and Lord Cornwallis, and all sorts of

nicknames; and old Stiffelkind made a thousand new ones for me.

One day I can recollect--one miserable day, as I was polishing on

the trees a pair of boots of Mr. Stiffelkind's manufacture--the old

gentleman came into the shop, with a lady on his arm.

“Vere is Gaptain Stobbs?” said he. “Vere is dat ornament to his

Majesty's service?”

I came in from the back shop, where I was polishing the boots, with one

of them in my hand.

“Look, my dear,” says he, “here is an old friend of yours, his

Excellency Lort Cornvallis!--Who would have thought such a nobleman

vood turn shoeblack? Captain Stobbs, here is your former flame, my dear

niece, Miss Grotty. How could you, Magdalen, ever leaf such a lof of a

man? Shake hands vid her, Gaptain;--dere, never mind de blacking!” But

Miss drew back.

“I never shake hands with a SHOEBLACK,” said she, mighty contemptuous.

“Bah! my lof, his fingers von't soil you. Don't you know he has just

been VITEVASHED?”

“I wish, uncle,” says she, “you would not leave me with such low

people.”

“Low, because he cleans boots? De Gaptain prefers PUMPS to boots I

tink--ha! ha!”

“Captain indeed! a nice Captain,” says Miss Crutty, snapping her fingers

in my face, and walking away: “a Captain who has had his nose pulled!

ha! ha!”--And how could I help it? it wasn't by my own CHOICE that that

ruffian Waters took such liberties with me. Didn't I show how averse I

was to all quarrels by refusing altogether his challenge?--But such is

the world. And thus the people at Stiffelkind's used to tease me, until

they drove me almost mad.

At last he came home one day more merry and abusive than ever.

“Gaptain,” says he, “I have goot news for you--a goot place. Your

lordship vill not be able to geep your garridge, but you vill be

gomfortable, and serve his Majesty.”

“Serve his Majesty?” says I. “Dearest Mr. Stiffelkind, have you got me a

place under Government?”

“Yes, and somting better still--not only a place, but a uniform: yes,

Gaptain Stobbs, a RED GOAT.”

“A red coat! I hope you don't think I would demean myself by entering

the ranks of the army? I am a gentleman, Mr. Stiffelkind--I can

never--no, I never--”

“No, I know you will never--you are too great a goward--ha! ha!--though

dis is a red goat, and a place where you must give some HARD KNOCKS

too--ha! ha!--do you gomprehend?--and you shall be a general instead of

a gaptain--ha! ha!”

“A general in a red coat, Mr. Stiffelkind?”

“Yes, a GENERAL BOSTMAN!--ha! ha! I have been vid your old friend,

Bunting, and he has an uncle in the Post Office, and he has got you de

place--eighteen shillings a veek, you rogue, and your goat. You must not

oben any of de letters you know.”

And so it was--I, Robert Stubbs, Esquire, became the vile thing he

named--a general postman!

*****

I was so disgusted with Stiffelkind's brutal jokes, which were now more

brutal than ever, that when I got my place in the Post Office, I never

went near the fellow again: for though he had done me a favor in

keeping me from starvation, he certainly had done it in a very rude,

disagreeable manner, and showed a low and mean spirit in SHOVING me

into such a degraded place as that of postman. But what had I to do? I

submitted to fate, and for three years or more, Robert Stubbs, of the

North Bungay Fencibles, was--

I wonder nobody recognized me. I lived in daily fear the first year: but

afterwards grew accustomed to my situation, as all great men will do,

and wore my red coat as naturally as if I had been sent into the world

only for the purpose of being a letter-carrier.

I was first in the Whitechapel district, where I stayed for nearly three

years, when I was transferred to Jermyn Street and Duke Street--famous

places for lodgings. I suppose I left a hundred letters at a house in

the latter street, where lived some people who must have recognized me

had they but once chanced to look at me.

You see that when I left Sloffemsquiggle, and set out in the gay world,

my mamma had written to me a dozen times at least; but I never answered

her, for I knew she wanted money, and I detest writing. Well, she

stopped her letters, finding she could get none from me:--but when I was

in the Fleet, as I told you, I wrote repeatedly to my dear mamma, and

was not a little nettled at her refusing to notice me in my distress,

which is the very time one most wants notice.

Stubbs is not an uncommon name; and though I saw MRS. STUBBS on a little

bright brass plate, in Duke street, and delivered so many letters to the

lodgers in her house, I never thought of asking who she was, or whether

she was my relation, or not.

One day the young woman who took in the letters had not got change, and

she called her mistress. An old lady in a poke-bonnet came out of the

parlor, and put on her spectacles, and looked at the letter, and fumbled

in her pocket for eightpence, and apologized to the postman for keeping

him waiting. And when I said, “Never mind, Ma'am, it's no trouble,”

the old lady gave a start, and then she pulled off her spectacles, and

staggered back; and then she began muttering, as if about to choke;

and then she gave a great screech, and flung herself into my arms, and

roared out, “MY SON, MY SON!”

“Law, mamma,” said I, “is that you?” and I sat down on the hall bench

with her, and let her kiss me as much as ever she liked. Hearing the

whining and crying, down comes another lady from up stairs,--it was my

sister Eliza; and down come the lodgers. And the maid gets water and

what not, and I was the regular hero of the group. I could not stay

long then, having my letters to deliver. But, in the evening, after

mail-time, I went back to my mamma and sister; and, over a bottle of

prime old port, and a precious good leg of boiled mutton and turnips,

made myself pretty comfortable, I can tell you.

DECEMBER.--“THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT.”

Mamma had kept the house in Duke Street for more than two years. I

recollected some of the chairs and tables from dear old Sloffemsquiggle,

and the bowl in which I had made that famous rum-punch, the evening she

went away, which she and my sisters left untouched, and I was obliged to

drink after they were gone; but that's not to the purpose.

Think of my sister Lucy's luck! that chap, Waters, fell in love with

her, and married her; and she now keeps her carriage, and lives in state

near Sloffemsquiggle. I offered to make it up with Waters; but he bears

malice, and never will see or speak to me.--He had the impudence, too,

to say, that he took in all letters for mamma at Sloffemsquiggle; and

that as mine were all begging-letters, he burned them, and never said a

word to her concerning them. He allowed mamma fifty pounds a year, and,

if she were not such a fool, she might have had three times as much; but

the old lady was high and mighty forsooth, and would not be beholden,

even to her own daughter, for more than she actually wanted. Even this

fifty pound she was going to refuse; but when I came to live with her,

of course I wanted pocket-money as well as board and lodging, and so

I had the fifty pounds for MY share, and eked out with it as well as I

could.

Old Bates and the Captain, between them, gave mamma a hundred pounds

when she left me (she had the deuce's own luck, to be sure--much more

than ever fell to ME, I know) and as she said she WOULD try and work for

her living, it was thought best to take a house and let lodgings, which

she did. Our first and second floor paid us four guineas a week, on an

average; and the front parlor and attic made forty pounds more. Mamma

and Eliza used to have the front attic: but I took that, and they slept

in the servants' bedroom. Lizzy had a pretty genius for work, and earned

a guinea a week that way; so that we had got nearly two hundred a year

over the rent to keep house with,--and we got on pretty well. Besides,

women eat nothing: my women didn't care for meat for days together

sometimes,--so that it was only necessary to dress a good steak or so

for me.

Mamma would not think of my continuing in the Post Office. She said

her dear Robert, her husband's son, her gallant soldier, and all that,

should remain at home and be a gentleman--which I was, certainly, though

I didn't find fifty pounds a year very much to buy clothes and be a

gentleman upon. To be sure, mother found me shirts and linen, so that

THAT wasn't in the fifty pounds. She kicked a little at paying the

washing too; but she gave in at last, for I was her dear Bob, you know;

and I'm blest if I could not make her give me the gown off her back.

Fancy! once she cut up a very nice rich black silk scarf, which my

sister Waters sent her, and made me a waistcoat and two stocks of it.

She was so VERY soft, the old lady!

*****

I'd lived in this way for five years or more, making myself content

with my fifty pounds a year (PERHAPS I had saved a little out of it; but

that's neither here nor there). From year's end to year's end I remained

faithful to my dear mamma, never leaving her except for a month or so

in the summer--when a bachelor may take a trip to Gravesend or Margate,

which would be too expensive for a family. I say a bachelor, for the

fact is, I don't know whether I am married or not--never having heard a

word since of the scoundrelly Mrs. Stubbs.

I never went to the public-house before meals: for, with my beggarly

fifty pounds, I could not afford to dine away from home: but there I had

my regular seat, and used to come home PRETTY GLORIOUS, I can tell you.

Then bed till eleven; then breakfast and the newspaper; then a stroll in

Hyde Park or St. James's; then home at half-past three to dinner--when

I jollied, as I call it, for the rest of the day. I was my mother's

delight; and thus, with a clear conscience, I managed to live on.

*****

How fond she was of me, to be sure! Being sociable myself, and loving

to have my friends about me, we often used to assemble a company of as

hearty fellows as you would wish to sit down with, and keep the nights

up royally. “Never mind, my boys,” I used to say. “Send the bottle

round: mammy pays for all.” As she did, sure enough: and sure enough we

punished her cellar too. The good old lady used to wait upon us, as

if for all the world she had been my servant, instead of a lady and my

mamma. Never used she to repine, though I often, as I must confess, gave

her occasion (keeping her up till four o'clock in the morning, because

she never could sleep until she saw her “dear Bob” in bed, and leading

her a sad anxious life). She was of such a sweet temper, the old lady,

that I think in the course of five years I never knew her in a passion,

except twice: and then with sister Lizzy, who declared I was ruining

the house, and driving the lodgers away, one by one. But mamma would

not hear of such envious spite on my sister's part. “Her Bob” was

always right, she said. At last Lizzy fairly retreated, and went to the

Waters's.--I was glad of it, for her temper was dreadful, and we used to

be squabbling from morning till night!

Ah, those WERE jolly times! but Ma was obliged to give up the

lodging-house at last--for, somehow, things went wrong after my sister's

departure--the nasty uncharitable people said, on account of ME; because

I drove away the lodgers by smoking and drinking, and kicking up noises

in the house; and because Ma gave me so much of her money:--so she did,

but if she WOULD give it, you know, how could I help it? Heigho! I wish

I'd KEPT it.

No such luck. The business I thought was to last for ever: but at the

end of two years came a smash--shut up shop--sell off everything. Mamma

went to the Waters's: and, will you believe it? the ungrateful wretches

would not receive me! that Mary, you see, was SO disappointed at not

marrying me. Twenty pounds a year they allow, it is true; but what's

that for a gentleman? For twenty years I have been struggling manfully

to gain an honest livelihood, and, in the course of them, have seen a

deal of life, to be sure. I've sold cigars and pocket-handkerchiefs

at the corners of streets; I've been a billiard-marker; I've been a

director (in the panic year) of the Imperial British Consolidated Mangle

and Drying Ground Company. I've been on the stage (for two years as an

actor, and about a month as a cad, when I was very low); I've been

the means of giving to the police of this empire some very valuable

information (about licensed victuallers, gentlemen's carts, and

pawnbrokers' names); I've been very nearly an officer again--that is,

an assistant to an officer of the Sheriff of Middlesex: it was my last

place.

On the last day of the year 1837, even THAT game was up. It's a

thing that very seldom happened to a gentleman, to be kicked out of

a spunging-house; but such was my case. Young Nabb (who succeeded his

father) drove me ignominiously from his door, because I had charged a

gentleman in the coffee-rooms seven-and-sixpence for a glass of ale and

bread and cheese, the charge of the house being only six shillings. He

had the meanness to deduct the eighteenpence from my wages, and because

I blustered a bit, he took me by the shoulders and turned me out--me, a

gentleman, and, what is more, a poor orphan!

The Fatal Boots · 第 3 / 4 段