Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
said he, taking Bob by the arm, “we must keep moving--Good morning--good
morning.” And thus saying, walked directly out of the house, turning to
the right again towards Piccadilly.
“There is a remark made, I think by Goldsmith,” said Tom, “that one half
of the world don't know how the other half lives; and the man I spoke to
in the coffee-room, whose name I am unacquainted with, though his person
is recognized by almost every body, while his true character, residence,
and means of subsistence, remain completely in obscurity, from what I
have seen of him, I judge is what may be termed a _hanger on_.”
“A hanger on,” said Bob--“what can that mean? I took him for a man of
property and high birth--but I saw you take so little notice of him.”
“Ah! my good fellow, I have already cautioned you not to be duped by
appearances. A _hanger on_ is a sort of sycophant, or toad-eater,
and, in the coffee-houses and hotels of London, many such are to be
found--men who can _spin out a long yarn_, tell a tough story, and
tip you _a rum chant_--who invite themselves by a freedom of address
bordering on impudence to the tables and the parties of persons they
know, by pretending to call in by mere accident, just at the appointed
time: by assuming great confidence, great haste, little appetite, and
much business; but, at the same time, requiring but little pressure to
forego them all for the pleasure of the company present. What he
can have to do with Sparkle I am at a loss to conceive; but he is an
insinuating and an intriguing sort of fellow, whom I by no means like,
so I cut him.”
Bob did not exactly understand the meaning of the word cut, and
therefore begged his Cousin to explain.
“The cut,” said Tom, “is a fashionable word for getting rid, by rude
or any means, of any person whose company is not agreeable. The art of
_cutting_ is reduced to a system in London; and an explanatory treatise
has been written on the subject for the edification of the natives.{1}
But I am so bewildered to think what can have detained Sparkle, and
deprived us of his company, that I scarcely know how to think for a
moment on any other subject at present.”
1 Vide a small volume entitled “The Cutter.”
~71~~“It is somewhat strange!” cried Bob, “that he was not with you this
morning.”
“There is some mystery in it,” said Tom, “which time alone can unravel;
but however, we will not be deprived of our intended ramble.” At this
moment they entered Piccadilly, and were crossing the road in their way
to St. James's Street, when Dashall nodded to a gentleman passing by on
the opposite side, and received a sort of half bow in return. “That,”
said Tom, “is a curious fellow, and a devilish clever fellow too--for
although he has but one arm, he is a man of science.”
“In what way?” enquired Bob.
“He is a pugilist,” said Tom--“one of those courageous gentlemen who can
queer the daylights, tap the claret, prevent telling fibs, and pop the
noddle into chancery; and a devilish good hand he is, I can assure you,
among those who
----“can combat with ferocious strife,
And beat an eye out, or thump out a life;
Can bang the ribs in, or bruise out the brains,
And die, like noble blockheads, for their pains.”
“Having but one arm, of course he is unable to figure in the
ring--though he attends the mills, and is a constant visitor at the
Fives Court exhibitions, and generally appears _a la Belcher_. He prides
himself upon flooring a novice, and hits devilish hard with the glove. I
have had some lessons from this amateur of the old English science, and
felt the force of his fist; but it is a very customary thing to commence
in a friendly way, till the knowing one finds an opportunity which he
cannot resist, of shewing the superiority he possesses. So it was with
Harry and me, when he put on his glove. I use the singular number,
because he has but one hand whereon to place a glove withal. Come, said
he, it shall only be a little innocent spar. I also put on a glove,
for it would not be fair to attack a one-armed man with two, and no one
ought to take the odds in combat. To it we went, and I shewed _first
blood_, for he tapped _the claret_ in no time.
“Neat _milling we had_, what with _clouts on the nob_, Home hits in
the _bread-basket_, clicks in the gob, And plumps in the daylights, a
prettier treat Between two _Johnny Raws_ 'tis not easy to meet.”
~72~~“I profited however by Harry's lessons, and after a short time was
enabled to return the compliment with interest, by sewing up one of his
_glimmers_.
“This is St. James's Street,” continued he, as they turned the corner
rather short; in doing which, somewhat animated by the description he
had just been giving, Tom's foot caught the toe of a gentleman, who
was mincing along the pathway with all the care and precision of a
dancing-master, which had the effect of bringing him to the ground in an
instant as effectually as a blow from one of the fancy. Tom, who had
no intention of giving offence wantonly, apologized for the misfortune,
by--“I beg pardon, Sir,” while Bob, who perceived the poor creature was
unable to rise again, and apprehending some broken bones, assisted him
to regain his erect position. The poor animal, or nondescript, yclept
Dandy, however had only been prevented the exercise of its limbs by the
stiffness of certain appendages, without which its person could not be
complete--the _stays_, lined with whalebone, were the obstacles to its
rising. Being however placed in its natural position, he began in an
affected blustering tone of voice to complain that it was d----d odd
a gentleman could not walk along the streets without being incommoded
by puppies--pulled out his quizzing glass, and surveyed our heroes from
head to foot--then taking from his pocket a smelling bottle, which, by
application to the nose, appeared to revive him, Tom declared he was
sorry for the accident, had no intention, and hoped he was not hurt.
This, however, did not appear to satisfy the offended Dandy, who turned
upon his heel muttering to himself the necessity there was of preventing
drunken fellows from rambling the streets to the annoyance of sober and
genteel people in the day-time.
Dashall, who overheard the substance of his ejaculation, broke from the
arm of Bob, and stepping after him without ceremony, by a sudden wheel
placed himself in the front of him, so as to impede his progress a
second time; a circumstance which filled Mr. Fribble with additional
alarm, and his agitation became visibly' depicted on his countenance.
“What do you mean?” cried Dashall, with indignation, taking the
imputation of drunkenness at that early hour in dudgeon. “Who, and
what are you, ~73~~Sir?{1} Explain instantly, or by the honour of a
gentleman, I'll chastise this insolence.”
1 “What are you?” is a formidable question to a dandy of the
present day, for
“Dandy's a gender of the doubtful kind;
A something, nothing, not to be defined;
'Twould puzzle worlds its sex to ascertain,
So very empty, and so very vain.”
It is a fact that the following examination of three of
these non-descripts took place at Bow Street a very short
time back, in consequence of a nocturnal fracas. The report
was thus given:
“Three young sprigs of fashion, in full dress, somewhat
damaged and discoloured by a night's lodging in the cell of
a watch-house, were yesterday brought before Mr. Birnie,
charged with disorderly conduct in the streets, and with
beating a watchman named Lloyd.
“Lloyd stated that his beat was near the Piazza, and at a
very late hour on Thursday night, the three defendants came
through Covent Garden, singing, and conducting themselves in
the most riotous manner possible. They were running, and
were followed by three others, all in a most uproarious
state of intoxication, and he thought proper to stop them;
upon which he was _floored san-ceremonie_, and when he
recovered his legs, he was again struck, and called '_a b----y
Charley_,' and other ungenteel names. He called for
the assistance of some of his brethren, and the defendants
were with some trouble taken to the watch-house. They were
very jolly on the way, and when lodged in durance, amused
themselves with abusing the Constable of the night, and took
especial care that no one within hearing of the watch-house
should get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night.
Mr. Birnie.--“Well young gentleman, what have you to say to
this?” The one who undertook to be spokesman, threw himself
in the most familiar manner possible across the table, and
having fixed himself perfectly at his ease, he said, “The
fact was, they had been dining at a tavern, and were rather
drunk, and on their way through the Piazza, they endeavoured
by running away to give the slip to their three companions,
who were still worse than themselves. The others, however
called out Stop thief! and the watchman stopped them;
whereat they naturally felt irritated, and certainly gave
the watchman a bit of a thrashing.”
Mr. Birnie.--“How was he to know you were not the thieves?
He did quite right to stop you, and I am very glad he has
brought you here--Pray, Sir, what are you?” Defendant.--“I
am nothing, Sir.” Mr. Birnie (to another).--“And what are
you?” Defendant.--“Why, Sir, I am--I am, Sir, nothing.” Mr.
Birnie.--“Well, this is very fine. Pray, Sir, (turning to
the third, who stood twirling his hat) will you do me the
favour to tell what you are?”
This gentleman answered in the same way. “I am, as my
friends observed, nothing.”
Mr. Birnie.--“Well, gentlemen, I must endeavour to make
something of you. Here, gaoler, let them he locked up, and I
shall not part with them until I have some better account of
their occupations.”
We have heard it asserted, that Nine tailors make a man. How
many Dandies, professing to be Nothing, may be required to
accomplish the proposed intention of making Something, may
(perhaps by this time) be discovered by the worthy
Magistrate. We however suspect he has had severe work of it.
~74~~“Leave me alone,” exclaimed the almost petrified Dandy.
“Not till you have given me the satisfaction I have a right to demand,”
cried Tom. “I insist upon an explanation and apology--or demand your
card--who are you, Sir? That's my address,” instantly handing him a
card. “I am not to be played with, nor will I suffer your escape, after
the insulting manner in which you have spoken, with impunity.”
Though not prepared for such a rencontre, the Dandy, who now perceived
the inflexible temper of Tom's mind--and a crowd of people gathering
round him--determined at least to put on as much of the character of a
man as possible, and fumbled in his pocket for a card; at length finding
one, he slipped it into Tom's hand. “Oh, Sir,” said he, “if that's the
case, I'm your man, _demmee_,--how, when, or where you please, 'pon
honor.” Then beckoning to a hackney coach, he hobbled to the door,
and was pushed in by coachee, who, immediately mounted the box and
flourishing his whip, soon rescued him from his perilous situation, and
the jeers of the surrounding multitude.
Tom, who in the bustle of the crowd had slipped the card of his
antagonist into his pocket, now took Bob's arm, and they pursued their
way down St. James's Street, and could not help laughing at the affair:
but Tallyho, who had a great aversion to duelling, and was thinking of