Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
the luxuries of the Thuilleries, the Louvre, the Palais Royal, and the
Elysian Fields; and I doubt not I shall be able to convince an old rich
uncle of mine of the fact. And as my expectations chiefly rest on him,
and he cannot last long, I shall upon liberation make my approaches to
him with a little of the French polish I am preparing while here. This,
however, is selfish conversation.”
“Yet perfectly in point,” continued Dashall.
“And equally interesting too,” said Bob.
“Do you see,” said Merrywell, “that young man buttoned up to the chin,
in what has been a blue great coat? He is one of the lecturers.”
“Lecturers?” enquired Tallyho; “what, have you lectures in the College?”
~51~~ “Undoubtedly we have, on subjects of the utmost importance too.
That young man, who began the world with slender property, but who
contrived by a strict adherence to ways and means to cut a dashing
figure, and live as if he had a large fortune, is in possession of
volumes of information, which he is willing to retail to such as require
it. What are termed lecturers here, are needy debtors, who put up young
men less knowing than themselves, for money or for a dinner; and his
experience is great, for when he had worn out all quarters of the town
in the way of trick, when the fashionable watering places were teeming
with clamorous creditors, when he was expelled from all the clubs in
consequence of not paying his subscriptions, nay, when he owed almost
all the waiters money, he came to this place nearly pennyless, and now,
by singing a good song, telling a tough story, and occasionally giving
lectures to his brothers in confinement, he manages to get a good dinner
daily, and seldom goes to bed sober.”
“Then his ways and means are not yet exhausted; he must be a good
financier, and might be made very useful to the Minister,” replied Tom;
“and it is really a pity such talents are not duly appreciated.”
“Who is that little stout man who passed you just now with a nod of the
head?” enquired Tallyho.
“That,” answered Merrywell, “is Capt. W----, a sort of walking
automaton, a kind of medley of incomprehensibles, something like
pedants' periods, very inanimate, and as you perceive, very round. He
was formerly a button maker, but having a desire to sink the shank, he
enlisted under the banners of Cupid, paid his addresses to one of the
Queen's maids, carried the fortress by a _coup de main_, and gained a
safe lodgement in the covert way, by taking the oath of allegiance at
the altar of Hymen. Spurning buttons, he aspired to the epaulette, and
was appointed paymaster to the 7th Hussars. Then he set up a coach to
run to and from Maidenhead. This being one iron too many in the fire,
soon became too hot for him. He defaulted for a considerable sum, and
has been in quod for four years. Here comes a beau of the first order, a
Colonel, and a most determined Dandy, even in confinement. Colonel R----
adheres as much to the nicety of dress in this place, as he would for
a military appearance on parade. He ~52~~ is Colonel of the New Grenada
Horse. I have not yet learned much of his former pursuits or his origin.
There is, however, an anecdote of him circulated, which prove the
admirable fitness of such a person for such a command. It is said
that when he obtained his appointment, he very significantly asked
the General, what stocks he should have for his guns, meaning the gun
carriages.”
“That's a little too severe,” cried Dashall, laughing at the same time,
“it was but a _lapsus linguæ_, such as might happen to any man.”
“I claim no merit in the relation,” was the reply; “however, it has
raised many a laugh at his expence, and as I had it so you now have it.
But we have other game in view, and must not be exhausting our time in
criticising immaterial points of propriety.
“Here ruin'd Lawyers, ruin'd Clients meet;
Here Doctors their consumptive Patients greet,
Sick of one malady that mocks all skill,
Without the true specific golden pill
Here finished Tailors, never to be paid,
Turn eyes on many a coat themselves have made;
And Bailiffs, caught by their own arts at last,
Meet those their capias yesterday made fast.
There stalks a youth whose father, for reform,
Has shut him up where countless vices swarm.
But little is that parent skill'd to trace
The springs of action,--little knows the place,
Who sends an ailing mind to where disease
Its inmost citadel of health may seize.”
“You entertain us with a diversity of mental dishes,” said Tom;
“Manacles, Mammon, and Morality, dance through the mazes of your
imagination in rapid and admirable succession--I wonder you don't
commence Lecturer.”
“I do not conceive myself qualified, and as I have no real occasion
to be a pretender, I leave it to those who have.--O! there goes a
curiosity--
“If you look sharp you'll see the short knee'd breeches, Brown hat and
powdered head of stalking P--tch--s.”
“He is known here by the title of Don; he has been a long resident
within these walls, has seen much of Life, and is still a gay fellow. He
was formerly a Member of Parliament, but not being able to overrule the
Speaker, he out-run the Constable, and was seized by ~53~~ the Bailiffs.
He is, however, a jolly companion, and lives well; but to show his
contempt for riches, he has actually seated his inexpressibles with the
parchment title deeds of his own estate, with impressions similar to the
old song--
“Why should we quarrel for riches,
Or any such glittering toys?
A tight heart and a thin pair of breeches
Will go through the world, my brave boye.”
“Who is that with the rackets under his arm?” enquired Bob.
“That is Baker, a sort of privileged man, who is allowed the advantages
of supplying the inmates with rackets, balls, &c. He lends rackets,
sells balls, keeps scores, and occasionally carries on the haberdashery
trade.”
“Then he is a shop-keeper, I suppose.”
“He is a measurer of tape” replied Merry well, “by way of refreshment,
or in other words, under safe circumstances, can spin out Old Tom or
Blue-ruin.”
“I understand,” said Bob, “a little of the Cratur.”
“Here,” continued Merry well, “is the coach-maker to the late
Christophe, King of Hayti, Mr. H---- of Long Acre notoriety. This
gentleman bought a considerable estate, which, with true parental
regard, he settled on his daughter, and paying for his purchase by his
residence here, whether his intentions will be fulfilled or not, so
as to obtain liberation by the Whitewashing Act, no one at present can
tell--and Colville is taking his walks--he is one of the Janitors, and
Crier of the place. He has a Stentorian voice, which is a part of his
business to exercise in calling the prisoners. I know but little of him,
and even that is not worth knowing. He, however, has the character of
being an informer, and I am not aware that he is in possession of any
good qualities. I shall, therefore, rather give a slight sketch of the
office he holds, than of the person.~54~~
“Whoe'er one night has slept within these walls,
Has heard the din that each new comer calls,
To where the keen-eyed Turnkeys wait to trace
The lineaments of every novel face.
Each morning thro' the Bench goes forth a cry,
By Colville sent thro' every gallery high.
To number “One,” peals round the shout from “Ten,”
Far rolling heard, “Pull up! now Gentlemen!”
“This is the custom with every new comer, and is productive sometimes of
much mirth to some, but of infinite mortification to others, according
to the circumstances of the case. As it would occupy some time to
describe them, I shall give you a poetical sketch of a morning in the
Bench; and by the introduction of a fictitious name, make you acquainted
with a general practice. Imagine for a moment,
“Rous'd by the force of that Stentorian sound,
Rose Belcour, dressed, and soon the lobby found.
About the door a throng of varlets stood,
A grinning and ill-favoured brotherhood,
That scoff and gibe at every wight that wears
Linen less black, or better coat than theirs.
For these, young Belcour was too fair a mark;
'Make way,' cries one, 'he's going to the Park:
His horses wait; he's going for a ride.'
'Fool, 'tis his tilbury,' another cried;
'D'ye think his lordship rides without his spurs?'
'A curse upon such base unmanner'd curs,'
Between his teeth impatient Belcour mutter'd,
As each his wit so truly attic utter'd;
Then, 'mid the laughter of the brutal throng,
Dark frowning through the door he moved along.
Within the upper lobby Morris sate,
And touch'd with easy complaisance his hat;
And cried, not deigning from his seat to stir,
'We hope you're pretty comfortable, Sir.
'These chaps about the door are rather rum;
'But, love you! So they do to all that come.'
Short was the conference; the Turnkey's look
Quick cognizance of Belcour's features took;
And never, from that hour might he pass by
Unnoted by that well-observing eye.”
“Well,” said Tallyho, “I must confess such scrutiny on the one part, and
such observations on the other, would be more than likely to ruffle my
temper, and I should be apt to signify my disapprobation, at least of
all that was unnecessary.”
“In that case,” replied Merry well, “you would only subject yourself
to additional torment: you would have songs, epigrams, lampoons, and
epitaphs in abundance, which would prove still more irritating; for this
is the seat of learning and of wit, of poets, painters, and musicians,
who, being enraptured with their own arts, neglect that of book-keeping,
till a residence here gives them a leisure opportunity to close their
ledgers.
~55~~ Speaking on that subject, by the by, we have among us, at this
moment, the publishers of the John Bull, whose combined efforts in the
way of scurrility have rendered them notorious among the periodicals
of present times. There is, however, little of public attraction about
them; and although they profess to have a subscription opened, to enable
them to pay the fine imposed upon them, it is doubted whether any
such is really in existence. Here, however, is a character of another
description:
Captain K---- is still a gay fellow, though I apprehend rather what we
call hard up just now. He has had the opportunity of expending a very
considerable property in seeing Life, but if report say true, it has
been chiefly exhausted among the fair sex, and coffee-house keepers.
Seldom much depressed in spirits, let the world wag as it will, he
sometimes gives good dinners and enjoys himself with a friend, though I
suspect that can, under present circumstances, only be done when he can
pitch the gammon to the wine merchant, and induce him to stand the
nonsense.”
“And do wine merchants give credit to persons in confinement?” enquired
Bob.
“Certainly,” was the reply, “for services done or promised to be done,
or upon the security of some friend, who perhaps intends soon after to
pay his engagements by a similar mode to that of the person whose debt
he pretends to secure. No place can be found where the study of ways and
means is more closely attended to than this. Of our prisons in general,
much the same may be said as of our gaming houses; very few get out of
them as they went in. A dupe is the general character of those who