Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
~114~~ “Some such pursuit I too must think of adopting,” replied
Fitzroy, “else I shall sink into the gulph of ennuit to the verge
of which I am fast approaching. Independent of the frequent ruinous
consequences of the gaming-table, I have taken a dislike to its
associates, and therefore abandoned their society; nor will you be
surprised at my having adopted this resolution, when I inform you, that
at my last sitting in one of these nefarious haunts of dissipation, I
was minus to the extent, in a few hours, of several thousand pounds,
the prize of unprincipled adventurers, of swindlers, black-legs, and
pigeon-fanciers!”{1}
1 A pigeon-fancier is one of those speculators at the
Gambling Houses, whose object it is to lie in wait for
inexperienced noviciates, and under the pretext of fair and
honorable dealing pluck their feathers; that is to say,
strip them bare of their property. Days and nights are
passed at the gaming-table. “I remember,” said the Earl
of G----, “spending three days and three nights in the
hazard room of a well-known house in St James's Street; the
shutters were closed, the curtains down, and we had candles
the whole time; even in the adjoining rooms we had candles,
that when our doors were opened to bring in refreshments, no
obtrusive gleam of day-light might remind us how the hours
had passed. How human nature supported the fatigue, I know
not. We scarcely allowed ourselves a moment's pause to take
the sustenance our bodies required. At last one of the
waiters, who had been in the room with us the whole time,
declared that he could hold out no longer, and that sleep he
must. With difficulty he obtained an hour's truce; the
moment he got out of the room he fell asleep, absolutely at
the very threshold of our door. By the rules of the house he
was entitled to a bonus on every transfer of property at the
hazard-table; and he made in the course of three days, up-
wards of Three hundred pounds! Sleep and avarice had
struggled to the utmost, but, with his vulgar habit, sleep
prevailed. We were wide awake. I never shall forget the
figure of one of my noble associates, who sat holding his
watch, his eager eyes fixed upon the minute-hand, whilst he
exclaimed continually, “This hour will never be over!” Then
he listened to discover whether his watch had stopped, then
cursed the lazy fellow for falling asleep, protesting, that
for his part, he never would again consent to such a waste
of time. The very instant the hour was ended, he ordered
“that dog” to be awakened, and to work we went. At this
sitting Thirty-five Thousand Pounds were lost and won. I was
very fortunate, for I lost a mere trifle--Ten Thousand
Pounds only!”
Dashall congratulated Fitzroy on his resolution, in having cut the
dangerous connexion, and expressed a hope that in due process of time he
would emancipate himself from the trammels of dissipation generally.
~115~~ “That,” rejoined Fitzroy, “is already in a considerable degree
effected.”
“In the higher and middle classes of society,” says a celebrated writer,
“it is a melancholy and distressing sight to observe, not unfrequently,
a man of a noble and ingenuous disposition, once feelingly alive to a
sense of honor and integrity, gradually sinking under the pressure of
his circumstances, making his excuses at first with a blush of conscious
shame, afraid to see the faces of his friends from whom he may have
borrowed money, reduced to the meanest tricks and subterfuges to delay
or avoid the payment of his just debts, till ultimately grown familiar
with falsehood, and at enmity with the world, he loses all the grace and
dignity of man.”--
“Such,” continued Fitzroy, “was the acmé of degradation to which I was
rapidly advancing, when an incident occurred to arrest the progress of
dissipation, and give a stimulus to more worthy pursuits.
“One morning having visited a certain nunnery in the precincts of
Pall-Mail, the Lady Abbess introduced me to a young noviciate, a
beautiful girl of sixteen.
“When we were left alone, she dropped on her knees, and in attitude
and voice of the most urgent supplication, implored me to save her from
infamy!”
“I am in your power,” she exclaimed, “but I feel confident that you
will not use it to my dishonor.--I am yet innocent;--restore me to my
parents,--pure and unsullied,--and the benediction of Heaven will reward
you!”--
She then told me a most lamentable tale of distress;--that her father
was in prison for a small debt; and that her mother, her brothers and
sisters, were starving at home.--Under these disastrous circumstances
she had sought service, and was inveighd into that of mother W. from
whence she had no hope of extrication, unless through my generous
assistance! She concluded her pathetic appeal, by observing, that if the
honorable Frederick Fitzroy had listened to the call of humanity, and
paid a debt of long standing, her father would not now be breaking
his heart in prison, her family famishing, nor herself subject to
destruction.
“And I am the Author of all!” I exclaimed, “I am the dis-honorable
Frederick Fitzroy, who in the vortex of dissipation, forgot the exercise
of common justice, and involved a worthy man and his suffering family in
misery! But I thank heaven, the injury is not irreparable!”
~116~ “I immediately explained to Mother W. the peculiarly
distressing situation of this poor girl, rescued her from meditated
perdition,--restored the husband to his family, with improved
circumstances,--and by a continuance of my support, I trust, in some
degree to atone for past transgression.”
This narrative excited much interest, and the approval, by the company,
of Fitzroy's munificence was expressive and unanimous.
The conviviality of the evening was renewed, and sustained until an
early hour, when the party broke up; having enjoyed “the feast of
reason, and the flow of soul,” with temperate hilarity.
Dashall, his Cousin, and Fitzroy, proceeding under the piazzas of
Covent Garden, the latter suggested an hour's amusement in the Cellars
underneath the Hotel, a proposition which was immediately acceded to by
his companions, and the trio descended into the lower regions.
The descent however bore not any resemblance to that of Telemachus into
Hell. A brilliant light irradiated their passage, and the grim shadows
of the infernal abode were, if present, without the ken of ocular
observation. In place of the palace of Pandemonium, our triumvirate
beheld the temple of Bacchus, where were assembled a number of Votaries,
sacrificing to the jolly Deity of the Ancients, in frequent and powerful
libations.
By some unaccountable means the daemon of discord, however, gained
admission and ascendancy.
A scene now took place which baffles every attempt at description.--The
row became general; decanters, glasses, and other fragile missiles,
were resorted to,--their fragments strewed the floor,--and the terrified
attendants hastened to require the interposition of the guardians of the
night, in restoring order and tranquillity.
Amidst the ravage and dissonance of war, our trio preserved a strict
neutrality, and before the arrival of the mediating powers, had regained
their position in the piazzas, where they waited the result of the
conflict.
Negotiations of peace having been unavailingly attempted, the refractory
combatants were taken into custody, after an obstinate resistance, and
conducted to “duress vile,” in the Watch-house.
~117~~ The tragi-comedy was dacently wound up by one of the performers,
a native of the Emerald Isle, who thinking it necessary that the
neighbourhood should have an intimation of the proceedings, announced
the hour of “past three,” with the accompaniment of “a bloody
MORNING!”{1}
The neutrals now proceeded to their respective homes, and our two
associates reached their domicile, without the occurrence of further
incident.
Next morning the indicative double rit-tat of the postman induced the
Squire from the breakfast-parlor to the hall. The servant had opened
the door, and received the letters; when an itinerant dealer in genuine
articles obtruded himself on the threshold, and doffing his castor after
the manner of a knowing one, enquired whether his honor was pleased to
be spoke with. Tallyho desired him to step in, and required to know
his business. The fellow with a significant wink, and many prelusive
apologies for the liberty he was about to take, stated that he had
accidentally come into possession of some contraband goods, chiefly
Hollands, Geneva, and India silk handkerchiefs, of prime and
indisputable excellence; which he could part with at unparalleled low
prices;--that he had already, in this private way, disposed of the
greatest portion, and that if his honor was inclined to become
a purchaser, he now had the opportunity of blending economy with
superlative excellence, in an almost incredible degree, and unequalled
in any part of the three kingdoms.
This flourish the Squire answered with becoming indignity; expressed his
surprise at the consummate assurance of any trickster who would dare
to offer him a contraband article, to the prejudice of His Majesty's
revenue; and ordered the servant to turn the “scoundrel” out of
doors.{2}
1 The above mentioned fracas took place a few weeks ago.--
The offenders “against the peace of our Sovereign Lord the
King,” were next day held before one of the Police
Magistrates, when it appearing that the row occurred under
the influence of ebriety, and that the landlord and the
watchmen were the only sufferers, a com-promise was
permitted, and the parties were discharged with a suitable
admonition.
2 “Contraband articles.” The Squire apparently was not
aware that the superlatively excellent Hollands, Geneva, and
India-hand-kerchiefs were, the one the manufacture of
Spital-fields, and the other the sophisticated balderdash
known by the name of Maidstone gin. It is a fact, altho' not
generally known, that at the different watering places every
season, the venders of silk handkerchiefs manufactured in
Spital-flelds, carry on a lucrative trade, by disposing of
them under the affectation of secrecy, as the genuine
produce of the Indian loom; and thus accommodating
themselves to the prejudice of their customers against our
native productions; get off in threefold proportion, the
number sold in London, and at a cent per cent greater
advantage!
With respect to alleged contraband SPIRITS, the deceit is
more successfully manoeuvred in Town than in the country.--
The facility of smuggling on the coast frequently supplies
the maritime visitant with a cheap and genuine beverage. In
Town the same opportunity does not occur, and on the
uninitiated in the cheats of London, the system of this
species of imposition is more frequently practised.
Professing to exhibit Real Life in London, we shall not
trouble our readers with an apology for the introduction of
the following appropriate incident--
Court ok Requests.--Holborn.--A case of rather a curious
nature, and which was characterised rather by the absurd
credulity of the parties than by its novelty, came before
the Commissioners on Thursday last. A man of the name of
O'Regan attended the Court, to show cause against a summons
which had been issued, calling upon him to pay a debt of
eighteen shillings, which was alleged to be due by him to a
person who stated his name to be Higgins. The parties were