Among the odd characters I have met with, I do not recollect anyone
more eccentric than the late Lieutenant-colonel Kelly, of the First
Foot Guards, who was the vainest man I ever encountered. He was a
thin, emaciated-looking dandy, but had all the bearing of the
gentleman. He was haughty in the extreme, and very fond of dress; his
boots were so well varnished that the polish now in use could not
surpass Kelly's blacking in brilliancy; his pantaloons were made of the
finest leather, and his coats were inimitable: in short, his dress was
considered perfect.
His sister held the place of housekeeper to the Custom-house, and when
it was burnt down, Kelly was burnt with it, in endeavoring to save his
favorite boots. When the news of his horrible death became known, all
the dandies were anxious to secure the services of his valet, who
possessed the mystery of the inimitable blacking. Brummell lost no
time in discovering his place of residence, and asked what wages he
required; the servant answered, his late master gave him 150£. a-year,
but it was not enough for his talents, and he should require 200£.;
upon which Brummell said, "well, if you will make it guineas, I shall
be happy to attend upon you." The late Lord Plymouth eventually secured
this phoenix of valets at 200£. a-year, and bore away the sovereignty
of boots.