CONCLUSION OF THE HISTORY OF A LIVERY-SERVANT.
"I am now going to take a leap of about six months in my story; because,
during that time, nothing of any importance occurred in the
establishment of the Honourable Mr. Ilverton. I may, however, observe
that my suspicion relative to the unhappiness of his wife was confirmed
the more I saw of her; for she was often dull and melancholy—and once or
twice I saw that she had been shedding tears. Her husband was very kind
and attentive to her; but he was a great deal from home, as he had large
estates in the country which he was frequently obliged to visit, and he
was also canvassing a borough for the approaching elections. Her
ladyship preferred remaining in town, because she could then enjoy the
society of her mother and sisters, who were almost constantly with her.
Well, as I just now said, six months had passed away without any
adventure of importance, and I was already wearied of the sameness of
the life I was leading, when something occurred which tended to excite
my curiosity and interest. It was about four o'clock, one summer
afternoon that the little incident took place; and this was it. A letter
came, addressed to her ladyship; and the hall-porter gave it to me to
take up into the drawing-room. I went up stairs, and my hand was on the
drawing-room door, when sounds of sobbing and low whispering, coming
from inside, met my ears. I stopped and listened. 'My God! you know that
I love you, Herbert,' said the voice of Lady Hortensia, who no longer
spoke in a whisper.—Then another voice made some reply which I could not
catch; and several minutes passed in a whispered conversation, not one
single word of which did I overhear. At last I could judge that the
visitor was about to take his leave; and I entered the room, first
making as much noise as I could with the handle of the door so as to
warn those inside that some one was coming in. But a single glance was
enough to show me that Lady Hortensia was in great confusion, while a
tall, handsome, young gentleman who was with her turned aside and walked
towards the window. They were both standing when I went in; but her
ladyship seated herself the moment after I entered and passed her
handkerchief rapidly over her charming face. I endeavoured to appear as
if I saw nothing to excite my curiosity, handed my mistress the letter,
and retired. I waited in the hall to catch another glimpse of the
gentleman when he went out; and in a few minutes he took his departure.
I asked the hall-porter who he was. 'I never saw him before,' was the
answer; 'but I heard him desire the footman to announce him by the name
of Mr. Herbert Remington.'—'Well,' thought I to myself, 'Mr. Herbert
Remington is a very fortunate man to be loved by such a beautiful lady.'
But I did not breathe to a soul what I had overheard, nor any thing that
I knew concerning my mistress.
[Illustration]
"Mr. Ilverton was in the country at this time; and I now observed that
Mr. Remington called regularly every day at about four o'clock. The
other servants did not appear to notice it as at all extraordinary; but
I had my own reasons for thinking a good deal on the subject. Several
times, on the occasion of these visits, did I creep to the drawing-room
door, and listen; and much of their conversation did I thus overhear.
From that I gleaned that Mr. Remington and Lady Hortensia had been
attached to each other for a long time; but that their marriage had been
rendered impossible by his poverty. I also learnt enough to convince me
that he was the father of a child of which she had been delivered at the
doctor's house, but which had died a few hours after its birth. I felt
no small degree of importance in knowing myself to be acquainted with
all their secrets; and I considered myself not only bound to keep those
secrets to myself, but also to assist them in any way I could, if an
opportunity served to render my humble aid available. And the time to
put me to that test soon came. Mr. Ilverton returned home from the
country much sooner than was expected; and the servants, when talking
together in the kitchen, said that he had come back in a very queer
humour. He was, however, more amiable than ever with her ladyship at
dinner on the day of his return; and I saw nothing to prove the truth of
what I had heard down stairs. Lady Hortensia retired early that evening,
saying she was unwell; and her maid observed on returning to the
servants' hall, after attending on her mistress in her bed-chamber, that
her ladyship appeared very unhappy. Then for the first time did the
servants speak of the constant visits of Mr. Remington; and as they
talked on the subject, suspicions seemed to spring up in their minds.
But the entrance of the housekeeper put an end to the gossip; and soon
afterwards the drawing-room bell rang. I hastened up to answer the
summons, and found Mr. Ilverton walking up and down the apartment in so
excited a manner that he did not even notice my entrance. At length he
perceived me; and, throwing himself in a chair, beckoned me towards him.
'John,' said he, laying his hand on my shoulder, and speaking in a
strange tone of voice, 'I think you will tell me the truth, if I ask you
a few questions,'—I said that I would.—'And will you keep to yourself
whatever I am going to say to you?' he asked.—'I will, sir, certainly,'
was my answer.—'I thought you were a good and discreet lad,' he
continued, putting a couple of sovereigns into my hand: 'act as you
ought towards me, and you shall never want a friend. Now, tell me, my
boy, whether a gentleman named Remington has called here every day
during my absence this last time?'—'Not every day, sir, I should think,'
was my reply; for I saw that a storm was brewing, and felt determined to
screen my mistress as much as possible.—'Yes, but he has though,'
returned Mr. Ilverton sharply; 'you may not, however, have observed it,'
he added immediately afterwards, in a milder tone: 'now answer me truly
my next question; and don't be afraid that I shall be angry, or shall
say any thing about it if you reply in the affirmative. Do the servants
talk amongst themselves of Mr. Remington's visits?'—'I have never heard
a word said on the subject, sir,' was my answer.—'Then I am not laughed
at in that quarter!' he muttered to himself; but I heard his words plain
enough, although he seemed to forget that he had spoken them a minute
after they had left his lips. 'John,' he continued, his fingers actually
griping my shoulder, 'you can do me a great service if you will; and I
will reward you handsomely.'—'It is my duty to do all I can for you,
sir,' I replied.—'Yes,' he said; 'but what I now require is something
out of the way of your ordinary duties, and is rather the part of a
friend, than a servant towards a master.'—'I will do any thing I can,
sir, to oblige you,' I exclaimed.—'And you will swear solemnly not to
breathe to a soul a word of all that now takes place between us, or that
you may have to do for me, unless I call upon you to proclaim any thing
in a court of justice.'—'I will obey you in all things, sir,' I
replied.—'You are a good lad,' he said; 'and I am not mistaken in you.
To tell you the truth,' he continued, 'I have received an anonymous
letter, creating the most painful suspicions in my mind. This letter
assures me that a gentleman whom I do not know, and whose name is
Remington, is a too frequent visitor at this house. But before I act, I
must be satisfied that his visits are injurious to my honour. Do you
understand me, my boy? You see, I am obliged to be open and candid with
you, as I require an important service at your hands.'—'I understand you
perfectly, sir.'—'What, then, do I mean?'—'Why, sir, that my lady should
not receive that gentleman's visits so often, and while you are away,' I
answered, pretending first to reflect for a few moments.—'Exactly so!'
he cried. 'And now I will explain what I require of you. To-morrow at
about half-past three o'clock,' he continued, 'I will give you a letter
addressed to some friend of mine at a little distance; and you must tell
the butler you are going to take it, and that you shall be upwards of an
hour away. By these means you will not be missed by the servants. But,
instead of leaving the house, you must steal up to the drawing-room, and
conceal yourself under the sofa. There must you lie as quiet as
possible, and listen to all that may take place between Lady Hortensia
and Mr. Remington, who, not knowing of my return, will be sure to call
at his wonted hour.'—'But suppose, sir,' I said, 'that I should be
discovered?'—'Then leave it to me to extricate you from the difficulty,
which is not likely to arise,' answered Mr. Ilverton.—'But,' I again
argued, 'if her ladyship should happen to come down earlier to the
drawing-room than usual, how shall I be able to conceal myself beneath
the sofa?'—'Should this occur, I will devise some means to induce Lady
Hortensia to quit the room for at least a few minutes, at about
half-past three. Be you on the watch.'—'I will sir,' was my answer.—'And
if you serve me faithfully, John,' he added, 'you will find a friend in
me; but if you disobey me in one single point, I will find means to
punish you somehow or another.'—I, of course, made all the necessary
promises; and he dismissed me, apparently well satisfied with my
assurances of fidelity.
"I slept but little all that night. I saw that a dreadful storm hung
over the head of my mistress; and I lay awake, planning a thousand
schemes to avert it. It was very easy for me to hide myself under the
sofa; and, whatever I might overhear, afterwards assure my master that
not a word had been said which he could possibly be angry at. But I was
experienced and cunning enough to fear that Mr. Ilverton wanted a
witness; and that though I might be listening under the sofa, he would
also be listening at the door, and would burst into the room in case his
suspicions respecting his wife should receive confirmation. Even if he
should not adopt this plan, but merely use me as a means of ascertaining
whether his wife was faithful or not, and take my word respecting the
particulars of the anticipated interview between herself and Mr.
Remington,—nevertheless, I saw the necessity of warning my mistress that
such suspicions did exist concerning her, and put her fully upon her
guard. This I resolved to do; and at last I made up my mind to speak
frankly to her next day. But when that day came, I saw no chance of
having an opportunity of carrying my intention into effect;—for her
ladyship did not come down stairs to breakfast nor to luncheon, she
being still indisposed, as I heard from her own maid. I loitered upon
the landing near the drawing-room as much as I dared; and once or twice,
when my master went up or down stairs, he nodded approvingly of my
conduct, thinking that I was there only to serve his interests. At last,
just as the clock had struck three, to my joy I saw Lady Hortensia
descend from her own chamber, and enter the drawing-room. Not a moment
was to be lost. I rushed in after her, closed the door, and said, 'My
lady, listen to me for one instant, I implore of you.' She looked at me
with mingled surprise and anger; for my manner must have appeared not
only strange, but also boisterously rude. I am sure I do not recollect
now—for I did not remember ten minutes after this scene occurred—what
words I used, or how I introduced the subject; but it is very certain
that I told her how I was the very lad who had seen her at the doctor's;
how her husband had bribed me to watch her; how I was determined to warn
her of the plot in progress against her; and how I would do any thing in
the world I could to serve her. She seemed perfectly astounded at all I
told her: she sank on the sofa, turned red and white a dozen times in a
minute, and then burst into tears. I dared not say a word: the idea of a
poor servant like me venturing to console a great lady like her was
ridiculous. But I was in a dreadful state of alarm lest Mr. Ilverton
should come in.—'John,' she said at last, wiping away her tears, 'if all
you have told me is true, you are one of the best lads that ever lived.
But how am I to know that this is as you represent it?'—I understood
what she meant: she feared lest it was only a trap to ensnare her into
something amounting to a confession.—'My lady,' I answered, 'if I wished
to injure you, could I not have at once revealed to Mr. Ilverton all
that took place at the doctor's house in Brook Street?'—'True!' she
said, blushing scarlet. 'Yes—you are faithful!' and she put her purse
into my hand. I returned it to her, declining to take any reward; but
she forced it upon me, and I was compelled to accept it. 'Now retire,'
she said hastily; 'and follow your master's bidding in respect to
concealing yourself. I shall afford you an opportunity,' she added:
then, turning away, she again burst into tears.
"I hastened from the room, well pleased with the success of my interview
with her ladyship, and feeling myself so important a person that I
scarcely knew whether I stood on my head or my heels. The secrets of the
family were in my keeping,—in the keeping of a boy not sixteen years
old; and it was enough to make me proud. Besides, I felt so satisfied
with my conduct in respect to her ladyship, that it seemed to me as if I
had done a great and a glorious deed. Well, on quitting the
drawing-room, I went up to my own chamber, to compose my feelings; for I
was really so much elated as to be quite unfit to meet my master for a
few minutes. But at the expiration of that time I hastened down stairs,
received the letter which he had in readiness for me, and, after looking
in at the servants' hall for a moment, just to say I was going out on an
errand, stole up to the drawing-room, where I found no one. I therefore
thrust myself under the sofa, and awaited anxiously the termination of
the adventure. Just as the time-piece on the mantel struck four, her
ladyship returned to the room; and almost immediately afterwards Mr.
Remington was announced. Hasty whispers were exchanged between them in a
language—most likely French—which I did not understand; and then they
seated themselves on chairs at some distance from each other, Lady
Hortensia having previously rung the bell. I was surprised at this
proceeding: what could she possibly mean? But I was more astonished
still, when, on the entrance of one of the footmen, she said, 'Ask your
master if he will have the kindness to favour me with his company for a
few minutes.' The servant retired to execute this command; and I was now
frightened lest her ladyship intended to accuse her husband of his
stratagem, and thereby expose my want of faith towards him. But second
thoughts convinced me that this was not the case; because her ladyship
must remember that it was in my power to ruin her effectually if she
meditated any treachery towards me. A few minutes elapsed, during which
Mr. Remington and my mistress conversed on the most common-place
subjects—such as the weather, the new opera, and so on; and at length
Mr. Ilverton entered the room. 'I am sorry to disturb you, my dear,'
said Lady Hortensia, speaking in her most amiable manner, 'since I know
that you are so fully engaged with election matters and other important
business; but I have a favour to ask of you. This gentleman is Mr.
Remington. Mr. Remington,' she added, 'Mr. Ilverton:' thus calmly and
quietly introducing them.—I do not know how my master looked, but I
could fancy that he felt very queer: at all events, he said
nothing.—'Mr. Remington, my dear,' continued Lady Hortensia, speaking
with a tranquil affability that quite astonished me, 'is a gentleman to
whom our family are under the greatest obligations; for it was he who
saved my brother Edward's life at Oxford a few years ago.'—'I remember
to have heard that your brother Edward had a narrow escape from being
drowned in the river on a boating excursion,' said Mr. Ilverton; 'but I
was not until now acquainted with even the name of the gentleman who so
generously risked his life to save him.'—'It was a deed which scarcely
deserves such warm praise, sir,' observed Mr. Remington.—'On the
contrary, Mr. Remington,' exclaimed Lady Hortensia, 'Mr. Ilverton must,
as my husband, experience the same gratitude which I feel towards you,
and ever shall, for your noble conduct.'—'Certainly, most decidedly,'
exclaimed my master, who, I could very well suppose, was now feeling
particularly sheepish.—'And I am convinced, my dear,' continued her
ladyship, addressing herself altogether to her husband now, 'that you
will approve of certain steps which I have taken in order to convince
Mr. Remington of the gratitude of the near relatives of him whom he
saved from a premature death. Mr. Remington has a sister who has been
left a widow, and who is anxious to turn her accomplishments to a good
account. She is desirous of entering some family as a governess; and I
have supplied Mr. Remington with letters of introduction on behalf of
his sister to several of our friends and acquaintances. He has this day
called to inform me of his sister's success in obtaining the situation
she requires, by means of one of those letters.'—Mr. Ilverton expressed
his entire approval of this proceeding on the part of her ladyship; and
Mr. Remington rose, and took his leave in that formal manner which
seemed to show that he did not even pretend to be considered in any
other light than a mere acquaintance.
"When he was gone, Lady Hortensia said, 'I am really glad that I have
been able to serve that young man's sister, for they are both very poor,
it seems and the service which he rendered our family in saving the life
of my brother was not one that should have gone unrewarded.'—'Oh!
decidedly not, my love,' said Mr. Ilverton. 'But will you accompany me
to the library now, and see the new picture that I bought some weeks
ago, and which has been sent home this morning? It was kept to be
framed.'—'Certainly,' answered Lady Hortensia; and she quitted the room
with her husband. I of course understood that he had purposely enticed
her away to allow me an opportunity of leaving my hiding-place; and I
was very glad to get from under the sofa, where I was most terribly
cramped, not having dared to move, and scarcely able to breathe free
through fear of being heard. I was highly delighted at the clever manner
in which Lady Hortensia had got herself out of the serious scrape that
for a time seemed to threaten her with total ruin; and I was heartily
glad to think that her husband must be thoroughly ashamed of having
exposed himself so completely to me. At dinner-time Lady Hortensia gave
me a glance which seemed to thank me again for the part I had acted
towards her; whereas Mr. Ilverton never once looked me in the face—not
even when I was close by his side and he ordered me to serve him with
any thing. Shortly after dinner her ladyship retired to the
drawing-room; and the moment I was alone with my master, he beckoned me
to approach him, and said in a low tone, 'John, what took place between
your mistress and that gentleman before I came in?'—'Mr. Remington said
he came to thank her ladyship for her kindness towards his sister,' I
answered, taking my cue from what I had heard before; 'and then her
ladyship said that you was at home, sir, and she would introduce Mr.
Remington to you.'—'Then I have been altogether misled, John,' he
observed: 'and mind that you never breathe a syllable of what has passed
to a living soul.'—'Certainly not, sir,' I replied. He put a couple of
sovereigns into my hand, telling me I was a good boy, and repeating his
injunction of strict secresy.
"I was now a very great favourite with both my master and mistress,
though, in each other's presence, they neither showed any particular
kindness towards me. Mr. Remington came no more to the house; but her
ladyship now and then gave me letters to put privately into the post for
her, and which were addressed to him. Thus three months more passed
away; and the general election came on. Mr. Ilverton went out of town;
and he had not left the house an hour, before Lady Hortensia gave me a
note to convey by hand to Mr. Remington's lodgings in Sackville Street,
with directions to wait for an answer. Mr. Remington seemed greatly
delighted at the contents of the note, and gave me the reply, which, in
his hurry and joy, he omitted to seal, although he had lighted a taper
on purpose. I hastened away, and went into a public-house to read the
letter. To my surprise I found, by its contents, that an appointment had
been made for the lover to pass the night with Lady Hortensia, she
having already admitted her maid into her confidence, thereby arranging
for his admission into the house at twelve o'clock. I was now dreadfully
annoyed at being no longer treated as a confidant, I who had done so
much to protect them from exposure! My interest in behalf of my mistress
suddenly turned to hate; and I thought seriously of revenging what I
considered to be a slight. I however ran back to Mr. Remington's
lodgings, and said to him, 'Sir, you have not sealed this letter; and I
would rather not take it like this to her ladyship, for fear she should
think I had read it, which I would not do for all the world.'—He looked
very hard at me, and seemed dreadfully confused at his oversight; but,
perceiving that I did not change colour, and that I met his gaze
steadily, he was more satisfied. Having sealed the letter, he returned
it to me, putting half-a-guinea into my hand; and I then hastened away
with it to my mistress, from whom I received double that sum. But a
wonderful change had come over my mind. I saw that I was made a mere
tool of; whereas so long as I thought myself important as a confidant, I
was happy. I had moreover hoarded near twenty pounds, by means of the
presents I had received; and I thought how foolish I was not to turn my
knowledge of certain secrets to account, and extort a good round sum
from her ladyship. In a moment I grew avaricious and spiteful. I know
how it was: while my vanity was flattered, I was contented; but the
instant I saw that I was a tool, and not a confidant, I was mortified,
and therefore changed. It did not strike me then that delicacy would of
course prevent Lady Hortensia from making use of me to give admittance
to her lover; and I looked on myself as a person badly used. I did
nothing that day; but I lay awake during the best part of the night
settling in my mind how I should proceed. Thus, while the lovers were in
each other's arms—as I had no doubt they were—a storm was brewing
against them in a quarter from which they little expected it.
"The very next day I went into the drawing-room when I knew that her
ladyship was there alone, and, shutting the door, advanced in a resolute
manner towards her. She seemed astonished, and asked me what I wanted.
'A hundred pounds,' I answered in a dogged style.—'Do you mean to
request that sum as a favour, or to demand it as the price of the
secrets you have promised to keep faithfully?' she said in a mild and
reproachful way, which made me more than half repent of my conduct; but
I had gone too far to retreat.—'Whichever your ladyship likes,' I
replied.—'I will give you _two_ hundred if you will leave the house this
minute, and let me make what excuse I choose for sending you away,' she
said.—The offer was too tempting to be rejected; and I immediately
accepted it. Two hundred pounds! it was a fortune, and I fancied that I
should never be able to spend it.—'Pack up your boxes, and prepare to
depart,' said Lady Hortensia, 'If the servants ask you any questions,
steadily refuse to answer them, beyond merely stating that I have
ordered you to leave immediately; and if you will call on Mr. Remington
this evening at eight o'clock, he will give you two hundred pounds in
gold.'—I was overjoyed at this arrangement, and gladly took my departure
on such terms, caring little what reason her ladyship might allege for
the abruptness with which I left. Two hundred pounds to be received in a
few hours! Oh! how happy I was!—and what castles did I build in the air!
I removed my trunk to a public-house in St. Martin's Lane; and having
had a pint of wine to celebrate the occasion, strolled out to purchase
new clothes—for I had of course left my livery at Mr. Ilverton's house,
and was not overwell dressed. Having bought all I required, thereby
making a considerable hole into the twenty-five pounds which, with my
hoardings and wages, I had in my pocket when I came away, I returned to
the public-house, and put on my new things. I then went out again to
while away an hour till eight o'clock, it being now seven. As I was
going along Piccadilly, I saw an elegantly dressed lady step out of a
carriage at a shop-door; and to my joy I recognised Miss Stacey. She
immediately knew me; and, seeing me so well attired, did not hesitate to
stop and speak to me. We conversed together for a few minutes, during
which I told her that I was no longer under the necessity of working for
my living, as fortune had been kind to me. She expressed her pleasure,
gave me her address, and asked me to call upon her; telling me, however,
that I must be sure to come between two and seven, and at no other time.
I promised to visit her; for she looked sweetly pretty and very
amorous;—and we parted.
"Precisely as the clock struck eight, I knocked at Mr. Remington's
door,—none of your sneaking single knocks; but a good loud double
one—for I felt all the importance of a man who has two hundred pounds to
receive. Mr. Remington was at home, and I was shown up into his room. He
desired me to be seated; but in a very cold tone and with a haughty
manner. I did not however care one fig for that: the idea of the two
hundred pounds rendered me as independent as possible. When I sate down,
Mr. Remington rose from his chair; and, advancing close up to me, he
said in a low, savage tone, 'You are a contemptible villian!'—'I did not
come here to be abused,' I exclaimed insolently: 'give me my money, and
let me be off.'—'Your money, indeed!' he cried: 'not one farthing will
you receive of me, or of Lady Hortensia Ilverton. Now, listen, young
man, and be cautions how you act. Had you conducted yourself fairly, you
would always have found friends in me and her ladyship; but you have
shown yourself a villain, and we are determined to crush you at once.
You think you have us in your power; but you are mistaken. Her ladyship
has already stated to her entire household that you were discharged
suddenly for an atrocious attempt to extort money from her: and say but
one word of scandal, utter one syllable against her, and you will be
handed over to justice. Begone, sir; and take care how you conduct
yourself. One word, by the way, before you leave me—and that is a word
of friendly warning. The hall-porter in St. James's Square has
instructions to give you over to the care of a constable, if you present
yourself again at that mansion.'—'You cannot bully me,' I exclaimed; 'I
know too much! Every thing shall now be made known to Mr.
Ilverton.'—'And he will not believe a word you utter,' answered
Remington. 'This night's post bears to him a letter in which Lady
Hortensia declares that you threatened to expose both him and her if she
did not give you a sum of money; and that you dared to assert that her
husband had bribed you to conceal yourself under a sofa. _She_ of course
pretends to think her husband incapable of such mean and cowardly
conduct; and he will be sure to deny it; at the same time he will never
forgive nor believe you.'—'But there is the affair at the doctor's house
in Brook Street,' I cried.—'The doctor will deny that such a lady was
ever there,' returned Mr. Remington, with a triumphant smile.—'And the
maid who knows that you passed an entire night with her mistress?' I
said, my courage sinking rapidly.—'You had better ask her what she knows
of the business! Now, mark me, young man; every precaution is taken to
put you to confusion. You are forestalled in every possible way. Say
what you will, positive contradictions and denials will meet your
assertions; and the result will be to you transportation for life, for
attempting to extort money! Now, then, reflect well before you plunge
yourself headlong into difficulties.'—'But I am thoroughly ruined!' I
exclaimed, tears starting into my eyes, as I saw the truth of all he
said. 'I have lost my place and my character!'—'It is your own fault,'
replied Mr. Remington. 'At the same time,' he added, after a few moments
consideration, 'I do not wish you to be crushed completely down to the
very mire. I will give you one chance. Sign a paper, stating that all
your accusations are so many falsehoods, and that you make this
acknowledgment to save yourself from being handed over to justice; and I
will then present you with fifty guineas.'—Thus speaking, he took out a
handful of notes and gold, to tempt me to conclude the bargain.—'But
every thing I can state is true!' I exclaimed.—'Never mind _that_,' he
answered: '_we_ can prove it to be all false. So, haste and decide: my
time is precious.'—What could I do? I wanted money, and I saw that he
was determined to resist all attempts at positive extortion. I therefore
expressed my readiness to sign the paper, which was already drawn up;
and, having done so, I received the fifty guineas promised.—'Now,' said
he triumphantly, as he folded up the document and placed it in his
pocket-book, 'you know the consequence of a single slanderous
whisper!'—I took my departure, terribly nettled, but still somewhat
consoled by the possession of the fifty guineas; for I thought that one
third of the sum at first expected, was better than none at all.
"I longed to be revenged on Lady Hortensia and Mr. Remington; but I knew
not how. I smarted dreadfully under the treatment I had received;—I
uttered bitter words against my folly in consenting to leave the house
before I had the money paid down; and I pondered on a thousand different
ways of venting my spite on my enemies. For several days I rambled about
by myself, racking my brain with devices. At last I resolved to abandon
the idea, at least for the present; and then I set to work to enjoy
myself—or rather to see how soon I could make away with my money. A few
weeks beheld the bottom of my purse—and I was astonished to think that
so many guineas should have disappeared in so short a time. I was now
seriously troubled what to do for a living; because I had no character.
Suddenly I bethought myself of Miss Stacey's invitation, and hastened to
call on her, it being then about three o'clock in the day. I found her
living in elegant lodgings in Maddox Street: and she received me most
kindly. I told her, word for word, all that had occurred to me since I
last saw her; and she was equally candid with me. In fact, she was then
in keeping by one of the Cabinet Ministers, who allowed her ten guineas
a week, paid her rent, her milliner's and her wine-merchant's bills, and
also the hire of her carriage. We soon came to an understanding
together; she wanted a page, or tiger, just at that moment, and I
accepted the post. The very next day I entered my new place—the most
comfortable I had ever yet been in, because I shared my mistress's bed
nearly every night. But I soon discovered that the Cabinet Minister and
myself were not the only persons who enjoyed the favours of Miss Stacey.
Several gentlemen called during those hours when she knew there was no
chance of her 'friend' making his appearance: in fact, the lady had
become a regular wanton. It was not however for me to make any
observations on her conduct: I was well satisfied with my place—and that
was enough. I learnt from her that Mrs. Beaumont had died a few months
previously, having just before married her butler, who came into
possession of all her fortune and had set up as a gentleman, driving his
cab and finding plenty of people to honour his champagne parties with
their presence. Miss Stacey also gave me a little sketch of herself. She
had been seduced, when only fifteen, by the husband of a lady with whom
she was placed as companion; and she unhesitatingly admitted that in all
the families where she had lived, she had maintained an intrigue with
some one, either master, man-servant, or page. Since she had left Mrs.
Beaumont she had been in keeping with the Cabinet Minister;—'but,' she
added with a smile, 'you see that I am not particular where I take a
fancy.' She was indeed a licentious woman, but very good-natured, and
possessing a temper that nothing could ruffle.
"I had been with her about three months, when I saw in the newspaper an
account of the sudden death of the Honourable Mr. Ilverton, M.P., who
was found a corpse in his bed one night by the side of his wife. There
was a Coroner's Inquest; and the verdict was 'Died of apoplexy.' I
however had my suspicions that some foul play had been practised. In a
little less than a year afterwards, I learnt, by the same channel of
intelligence, that Lady Hortensia Ilverton had become the wife of
Herbert Remington, Esq. About the same time I met Mrs. Hulse—the pretty
lady, you remember, who played such pranks with her two lovers at the
boarding-house. She stopped and spoke to me. I inquired after Mr. Hulse;
and she said that he was quite well, and that they lived very happy
together. I then asked her slyly if she had seen Mr. Frederick Shawe
lately.—'What!' she exclaimed, 'do you not know all that happened to
him?'—I assured her I did not.—'He committed a forgery some months ago,'
she replied, 'and was hanged for it. It was down in the country; but I
forget where. The whole account was, however, in the papers at the
time.'—I was delighted to hear that the enemy of my parents had come to
such a miserable end. Mrs. Hulse gave me half-a-sovereign, and bade me
good bye.
"A short time after these little incidents, and when I had been in Miss
Stacey's service nearly eighteen months, the Cabinet Minister suddenly
withdrew his protection from her—I never heard why. It is however more
than probable that her numerous intrigues reached his ears. The
immediate result of the stoppage of funds in that quarter was a bolt
from the lodgings, my mistress being over head and ears in debt. She
removed to Norfolk Street, Strand: and I accompanied her. It was at this
time that I was attacked by the small-pox, and obliged to leave. I went
to the hospital, where I remained dangerously ill for several weeks;
and, when I did recover, I was marked as you now see me. I may therefore
say without vanity, that before this unfortunate occurrence I was a very
good-looking lad; and it was no wonder that the women used to take a
fancy to me. Well, I left the hospital with only a few shillings in my
pocket, which I had about me when I went in; and my first step was to
enquire after my late mistress in Norfolk Street. But there I learnt a
sad tale. She had been greatly reduced in circumstances, and had made
away with the things in her ready-furnished lodgings. The landlady gave
her into custody; she was committed for trial, and sentenced at the Old
Bailey to transportation for seven years. But this sentence was commuted
to imprisonment for two years, by an order from the Home Office,
although the judge who presided at the trial declared it to be a most
aggravated offence. I thought I could understand the secret of this
leniency; nor was I mistaken; for, on calling upon my poor mistress in
Newgate, where she was imprisoned, she told me that she had written to
her late 'friend,' the Cabinet Minister, who had procured the alteration
in her sentence. She was very happy, and made me promise to call and see
her again. But I never had the opportunity; for some Member took up the
case in the House of Commons, and asked the Home Secretary the reason
why the original sentence was not carried out, seeing that the jury had
given no recommendation to mercy, and that the judge had pronounced a
strong opinion on the matter. The affair made such a noise, and the
_Weekly Dispatch_ took it up in such strong terms, that the Government
was obliged to order the sentence of transportation to be put into
immediate effect.[38] The consequence was that the poor lady was sent
out of the country as soon as possible; and I never saw her any more. I
felt for her deeply: she had been kind to me—and, with all her faults,
there were many excellent points in her character. But, somehow or
another, I never did meet a woman who, let her be ever so bad, had not
some redeeming qualities. I have met hundreds of men so thoroughly bad,
that they had not a single thing to recommend them: but it has not been
so in my experience with the other sex. I don't believe that any woman
can become so utterly depraved, as not to retain a little amount of good
feeling about her. I wish I could say as much for men.
"But let me make haste and bring this story to an end. I was now a
miserable, friendless wretch in the world, and knew not what to do for a
living. I had no character, and could not get a place. At last, when
driven to desperation, I resolved to call on the person whom Mrs.
Beaumont married, and who was for many years her butler. I accordingly
went up to Russell Square, and knocked at the well-known door. A servant
in splendid livery answered the summons; and I was shown into the hall,
where I was kept waiting for nearly two hours. At last I was shown up
into the drawing-room, where the ex-butler lay lounging on the sofa,
reading the _Morning Post_. 'Just sit down, young man, for a moment,'
said he, with an affected drawl, although he was an old fellow of sixty,
'while I finish the _Fashionable Intelligence_; because, you see, I'm
interested in it.'—So I took a seat, and was kept waiting for another
half-hour. At last the _gentleman_ laid aside the paper, and enquired my
business. I told him who I was, and how distressed was my position. He
stared at me for a long time, as if to make sure that I was really the
John Jeffreys whom he had once known—for I was cruelly disfigured; and
when he was convinced that I was no impostor, he gave me half-a-guinea,
saying that he had been a looser by the late Derby, and had lent his
friend Lord Mushroom so much money lately, that he could do no more. I
thanked him very sincerely and went away. I walked on to Great Russell
Street, being in the neighbourhood, and called at the Turners'
boarding-house. But I learnt from the servant that Mr. Turner was dead,
and Mrs. Turner had _declined_ business in consequence, and would see
nobody. I went away with a heavy heart; for I knew that the half-guinea
would not last for ever. At length I was so tired with walking about,
that I entered a public-house to get some refreshment. Two men were
sitting in the parlour, drinking ale; and their conversation, singularly
enough, happened to turn on a friend of theirs who, as I heard them say,
had just got a situation as footman in a good family.—'But how the devil
did he manage, though?' asked one; 'since he only came out of quod for
stealing that plate, you know, ten days ago.'—'Why, he got a character
of that chap who lives at the house with the balcony, up in Castle
Street, Portland Place, to be sure,' was the answer.—'You don't mean old
Griffiths, do you?' said the other.—'Of course I do,' replied his
friend: 'he's been in that line now for the last six months, and makes
an excellent thing by it. I've recommended several poor devils of
men-servants to him.'—'The deuce you have!' I exclaimed: 'I wish to God
you would recommend me!'—'Are you out of place and got no character?'
demanded the man.—'Just so,' I answered; 'and if I don't get a situation
soon, I shall starve.'—'Have you got any tin about you?' asked the
man.—'Ten shillings, when I've paid for what I've had,' I
replied.—'That'll just do the trick!' cried the man: 'you must stand a
pot to me and my friend here; and you'll have to pay seven-and-sixpence
entrance fee to old Griffiths. Then you'll have a trifle left to take
you on till to-morrow.' I readily paid for a pot of the best ale; and
when we had disposed of it, I received a note of recommendation to the
Mr. Griffiths spoken of. He was an old, respectable-looking man, with a
bold crown, and grey hair at the back and sides of his head; and he was
sitting in a neat office, with a large book before him. He read the
note, which explained my business, and then demanded the entrance fee.
This I paid; and he put down my name in the book. 'I will give you the
addresses of several families who require a young livery-servant,' he
said; 'and you may refer them to Captain Elphinstone, No.—, Mortimer
Street, Cavendish Square. You may say that you lived with that gentleman
for three years, and only left him on account of ill health. And now I
must tell you the nature of the bargain which exists between you and me.
You are sure to obtain a situation; and when your first quarter's wages
are paid, you must bring me a sovereign; and a sovereign from second
quarter. You will then always have me as your friend, and need never be
afraid of remaining long out of place. But if you do not keep faith with
me, I shall find means to make you repent it.'—I assured the old
gentleman I would do the thing that was right; and took my leave of him,
rejoiced at the prospect of obtaining a situation.
"Next morning I made myself as tidy as I could, and called at the places
pointed out by Mr. Griffiths. I was soon successful, and gave Captain
Elphinstone as my reference. The gentleman of the house said he would
call on the captain in the course of the day, and I was to return in the
evening for the answer. This I did, and found that an unexceptionable
character had been given of me. I was therefore admitted into the
gentleman's service at once. It was a quiet place, and a small
establishment, only consisting of myself and two female servants—a cook
and housemaid; for Mr. Farmer, our master, was an elderly bachelor.
There I stayed for several years, and was very happy and comfortable
indeed. But one day Mr. Farmer took it into his head to marry the cook;
and as she could not bear to have in her house the same people who had
known her as a fellow-servant, the housemaid and myself both got our
discharge. We, however, had good characters, but we did not avail
ourselves of them—for, having each scraped up a little money, we agreed
to club our savings, and open a shop in the chandlery line. We had long
been intimate enough to render the parson's services quite unnecessary
in enabling us to live together; and so we commenced business, passing
ourselves off as man and wife. The thing did not, however, succeed; and
care drove me to the public-house. It was then that I met you, Mr.
Bones; and you suggested how much good might be done if I would go back
into service, and give you notice of any little things worth your
knowing. This I resolved to do; and, leaving my female companion to do
what she liked with the shop, I took leave of her. We parted very good
friends; and by the aid of old Griffiths I very soon obtained a place. I
need not say any more,—unless it is that since then I've been in
situations at many houses, and have generally managed to do a pretty
decent amount of business with Mr. Bones."
Jeffreys ceased speaking; and his three companions expressed the
amusement they had derived from his narrative.
A few more glasses of grog were drunk, as well as a few more pipes
smoked; and it was not until past three in the morning that Old Death's
visitors left him.
* * * * *
We cannot close this chapter without a few observations relative to that
large and important class—domestic servants.
And first of female servants. It is said that great numbers of them are
immodest, and that from their ranks the class of unfortunate women, or
prostitutes, is largely recruited. We believe that the immorality of
female servants is considerably exaggerated by these representations,
and that the cases of frailty are the exceptions and not the rule. There
are thousands and thousands of females amongst this class as respectable
and well conducted as women ought to be, and who take a pride not only
in maintaining a spotless character, but in so behaving themselves that
there shall be no chance of its becoming tainted. And this is the more
creditable to them—the more to their honour, inasmuch as the temptations
to which they are exposed are very great. Sent out on errands at all
hours—compelled to go to the public-houses to fetch the beer and spirits
for the use of the family—constantly placed in contact with the
serving-men belonging to the family's tradesmen—exposed to the chance of
sustaining insulting liberties at the hands of the visitors to the
house—and often persecuted by the lustful addresses of some male inmate
of the establishment, such as a brother or son of the master, and
perhaps the master himself,—what strength of mind—what moral courage
must the servant-maid possess to resist these temptations and escape
from so many perils! We mean to say, then, that if she do fall, there is
far more scope for pity and a far greater amount of extenuation on her
behalf, than on that of the lady who surrenders herself, unmarried, to
the embraces of her lover!
And in many—too many instances—what a life of slavery is that of the
female servant!—and how little enviable is the lot of the poor
maid-of-all-work! Talk of the hard fate of the negress—think of the hard
fate of the maid-of-all-work! Excellent saint of Exeter Hall! you need
not send your sympathies travelling some thousands of miles across the
sea: there is plenty of scope for their exercise at home, if you be
really sincere—which we know you are _not_! Look to the
maid-of-all-work—up at five in the winter, and heaven only knows when in
the summer,—compelled to keep an entire house neat and decent—to black
all the boots and shoes—to run on all the errands—to put herself in
awful peril by standing or sitting outside the windows which she is
compelled to clean—and very frequently half-starved by those whom she
serves so assiduously and so faithfully,—what a life is hers![39]
Female servants are treated with much greater kindness in France than in
England. In the former country they are considered rather in the light
of humble friends of the family than as mere slaves, which is the
estimation in which they are usually held, we are sorry to say, in the
British Islands. Let them be treated with kindness and forbearance: they
have much to try their patience and sour their tempers by the very
nature of their condition and the miscellaneous character of their
avocations. A man or a woman who is unkind to a servant, is a wretch
deserving obloquy and execration. But a master or a mistress who,
through petty spite or sheer malignity, refuses to give to a discharged
servant the good character which such servant may in reality deserve, is
a very fiend, unfit to remain in civilised society.
[Illustration]
Before we take leave of this subject, we cannot resist the opportunity
of expressing our opinion relative to a practice adopted at Court: we
mean the fact of the Queen being waited upon in her private apartments
by ladies of high rank and good family, instead of by female servants.
Who is Queen Victoria, that a Duchess must select her gown, and a
Marchioness hook it? Is she a goddess that a Countess must help her to
put on her shoes, and a Baroness tie them? Must not royalty be touched
by the hands of a female servant? Alas! we strongly suspect that Queen
Victoria is a woman made of the same flesh and blood as the most
ordinary mortals: and we feel confident that the practice of attaching
ladies of rank and title to her august person is as pernicious to her,
as it is degrading to the ladies themselves, and as flagrantly insulting
to the entire class of well-conducted ladies'-maids. But royalty in this
country must be idolized—deified: no means must be left untried to
convince the credulous public that royalty is something very different
from commonalty. This delusion shall, however, be dispelled;—the people
must be taught to look on Victoria as nothing more than the chief
magistrate of the country, deriving her power from the nation at large,
and holding it only so long as the majority of the inhabitants of these
realms may consider her worthy to retain it. The contemptible farce of
firing cannon to announce her movements—of illuminating dwelling-houses
on her birth-day—of cheering her whenever she appears in public, just as
if she cared two figs for the bawling idlers who gaze on Majesty with
awe and astonishment,—all this miserable humbug should be abolished.
_The more a Sovereign is deified, the more the people are abased._
Instead of the nation being obliged to Queen Victoria for ruling over
it, Queen Victoria ought to be very much obliged to the nation for
allowing her to occupy her high post. For the only real _sovereign
power_ is that of the people; and the individual who looks on royalty as
something infallible—divine—supernally grand and awe-inspiring, is a
drivelling, narrow-minded idiot, unworthy of the enjoyment of political
freedom, and fit only to take his place amidst the herds of Russian
serfdom.
-----
Footnote 38:
This incident is founded on fact. Many of our readers will doubtless
recollect the case of J——N——and her mother, who were convicted of
robbing ready-furnished lodgings about ten years ago. Miss J——N——had
been the mistress of a noble lord who was a Cabinet Minister at the
time of the condemnation of her mother and herself, _and who is a
Cabinet Minister at the present moment_. The affair created a great
sensation at the time; but the _Dispatch_ and other independent
newspapers took it up; not in order to persecute the unhappy women,
but on public grounds. The result was that the original sentence
passed upon them, and which Ministerial favouritism sought to commute
to a much milder penalty, was carried into force. The entire business,
so far as the noble lord was concerned, was vile and scandalous in the
extreme.
Footnote 39:
We avail ourselves of the opportunity afforded us by the glance which
we are taking at this subject, to recommend to perusal an admirable
little work, written by our esteemed and talented friend, Mr. John
Taylor Sinnett, and entitled "The Servant Girl in London." It is
published by Hastings, Carey Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields; and is a
little book which should be found in all families, as it contains
sentiments and precepts useful alike to the employer and the employed.
In a work from which we have frequently quoted in the Notes belonging
to the present Series of "THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON,"—we allude to
"Poverty, Mendicity, and Crime,"—we find an important passage bearing
strongly upon the subject of the text. It runs as follows:—"We must
now direct attention to the class of female servants, and they form no
insignificant number: from these the higher ranks of our prostitutes
are recruited. Thirst for dress and finery, which has crept on to such
a degree that it is not a very rare sight to behold them waiting on
their mistress in the morning, bedecked in silks and ornaments equal
to the young ladies themselves, even where the ladies are of the
highest class of the community. Great censure is due to ladies,
especially those who are mothers, for not restraining their servants
from squandering away the whole of their money, loss of place ought to
be the consequence of not laying by a small portion of wages to
sustain themselves in the event of illness or other unforeseen
calamity; the dress of a female servant ought to be good, but
perfectly void of ridiculous ornament and frippery. The ladies' maids
of our aristocracy are a race the most highly culpable of their sex,
aping all the pride and airs of their lady, and desiring to appear
abroad with equal _éclat_, to effect which, the wardrobe of the
mistress is not unfrequently resorted to, and the purse not always
held sacred, or she becomes a prostitute whilst under the roof of her
employer, till descending from one false step to another she at length
links her fate to some favourite of the swell mob, to whom she at
first listened as a suitor, and ends in her being accessary to robbing
the family which had fostered her. It is ascertained, beyond doubt,
that most of the houses that are robbed, arises from the connexion and
intimacy which the servant has contracted with some of the petty
workmen who have been employed about the premises, many of whom are
thieves themselves, or connected with some gang of villains who resort
to that expedient to learn what property is kept on the premises, and
how it is disposed of at night. 'A great deal of crime,' says Mr.
Nairn, in his evidence, 'is generated in consequence of the tradesmen
who employ journeymen to work for them, in gentlemen's houses, not
taking care to inquire into their character: by getting acquainted
with servants, they get a knowledge of those parts of the house where
anything valuable is kept. A number of men that were in the prison
were painters, plasterers, and bricklayers, they were in the practice
of communicating with thieves, and it is in that secret manner that
they get information where property is kept.'—_Vide J. H. Nairn, p.
370, 2nd Report, Lords, on State of Gaols, 1835._
"There is a most infamous conspiracy existing between the purveyors or
housekeepers of the aristocracy and their tradespeople, the latter
paying the former a large per centage on the bills for the sake of
'gaining their custom.' Twenty per cent. is often given, and it has
been known to rise as high as fifty; unfortunately, the nobleman
considers it as derogatory to his high rank to look into his pecuniary
domestic affairs; but taking it in a moral point of view, it is his
duty to do so for the sake of preventing this species of peculation,
which is an absolute theft and one of the stepping-stones to crime
generally, as the money so attained is mostly as lightly spent, and
the servants out of place for a length of time, the difficulty to
procure the wherewithal to keep alive their former extravagance makes
them not hesitate to become _regular thieves_, the fine sense of
honesty having been destroyed by the transaction with the tradesman,
who had not failed, in his turn, to make out a bill more than
sufficiently long to cover merely his generosity in bestowing
Christmas boxes upon the domestics of his patron. These tradesmen are
a rank disgrace to their more honest fellow shopkeeper; they are worse
than fences, and it is greatly to be regretted that a complete
_expose_ cannot take place, and all such tradesmen dealt with
according to their merit.
"Another evil in society that is pregnant with mischief is giving a
false character to servants, which ladies are constantly in the
practice of doing, to avoid being plagued, or 'perhaps,' as they say,
'insulted by the discarded servant,' whose character, if correctly
stated, would not be such as easily to procure a new situation; thus a
pilferer having once had the luck to start off in a private family
with a good name, is from this shameful habit let loose upon the
public to commit his depredations at leisure and convenience, with the
chance of blame falling upon an honest individual, through the crafty
machination of the wicked. By making servants conscious that they
would only procure such a character as they really deserve, great good
would accrue to the public generally, and the servants themselves
would be taught to curb their temper and other bad propensities, by
which they would become infinitely more contented and happy beings,
and valuable members of society.
"It is too often the case that servants are looked upon as little
better than slaves, and so to treat them. To say the least of such
conduct it is unwise, for in proportion to the kindness with which
they are treated, so will they study in return to make us enjoy
numberless little comforts so delightful to experience, and which it
is in their power to give life to or destroy. Humanity ought to
suggest that the situation in which these persons are placed,
witnessing nightly those scenes of pleasure, without being permitted
to join in them, is sufficiently grating, for they all have their
feelings, in common with the best of us, and it ought to be one of the
first cares of the heads of families to lighten, as far as consistent
with the rules and shades of society, the state and labours of their
dependants. In France the servants are in an enviable condition
compared with those of England, and if the plan were followed in this
country, giving them their little pleasures, many a one, whose
propensities were wavering, would be confirmed in virtue, and become a
useful member, instead of a disgrace to society."