Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 2

"Not like it, sir!" exclaimed Mr. Clipclose, with astonishment.

"No, I don't, demme! Is this a court dress? It's a quaker's made into a footman's! 'Pon my soul, I look the exact image of a footman; and a devilish vulgar one too!" The two individuals beside him turned suddenly away—looking in different directions—and from their noses there issued the sounds of ill-suppressed laughter.

"Oh, sir—I beg a thousand pardons!"—quickly exclaimed Mr. Clipclose, "what can I have been thinking about? There's the sword—we've quite forgot it!"

"Ah—'pon my life, I thought there was something wrong!" quoth Titmouse, as Mr. Clipclose, having brought the sword from the table at the other end of the room, where he had laid it upon entering, buckled it upon his distinguished customer.

"I flatter myself that now, sir"—commenced he.

"Ya—as—Quite the correct thing! 'Pon my soul—must say—most uncommon striking!"—exclaimed Titmouse, glancing at his figure in the glass, with a triumphant smile. "Isn't it odd, now, that this sword should make all the difference between me and a footman, by Jove?" Here his two companions were seized with a simultaneous fit of coughing.

"Ah, ha—it's so, a'n't it?" continued Titmouse, his eyes glued to the glass.

"Certainly, sir," replied Mr. Clipclose, "it undoubtedly gives—what shall I call it? a grace—a finish—a sort of commanding appearance—especially to a figure that becomes it"—he continued with cool assurance, observing that the valet understood him. "But—may I, sir, take so great a liberty? If you are not accustomed to wear a sword—as I think you said you had not been at court before—I beg to remind you that it will require particular care to manage it, and prevent it from getting between"–

"Demme, sir!" exclaimed Titmouse, turning round with an offended air—"d'ye think I don't know how to manage a sword? By all that's tremendous"—and plucking the taper weapon out of its scabbard, he waved it over his head; and throwing himself into the first position—he had latterly paid a good deal of attention to fencing—with rather an excited air, he went through several of the preliminary movements. 'Twas a subject for a painter, and exhibited a very striking spectacle—as an instance of power silently concentrated, and ready to be put forth upon an adequate occasion. The tailor and the valet, who stood separate from each other, and at a safe and respectful distance from Mr. Titmouse, gazed at him with silent admiration.

When the great day arrived—Titmouse having thought of scarce anything else in the interval, and teased every one whom he had met with his endless questions and childish observations on the subject—he drove up, at the appointed hour, to the Earl of Dreddlington's; whose carriage, with an appearance of greater state than usual about it, was standing at the door. On alighting from his cab, he skipped so nimbly up-stairs, that he could not have had time to observe the amusement which his figure occasioned even to the well-disciplined servants of the Earl of Dreddlington. Much allowance ought to have been made for them. Think of Mr. Titmouse's little knee-breeches, white silks, silver shoe-buckles, shirt ruffles and frills, coat, bag, and sword; and his hair, plastered up with bear's grease, parted down the middle of his head, and curling out boldly over each temple; and his open countenance irradiated with a subdued smile of triumph and excitement! On entering the drawing-room he beheld a really striking object—the earl in court costume, wearing his general's uniform, with all his glistening orders, standing in readiness to set off, and holding in his hand his hat, with its snowy plume. His posture was at once easy and commanding. Had he been standing to Sir Thomas Lawrence, he could not have disposed himself more effectively. Lady Cecilia was sitting on the sofa, leaning back, and languidly talking to him; and, from the start which they both gave on Titmouse's entrance, it was plain that they could not have calculated upon the extraordinary transmogrification he must have undergone, in assuming court costume. For a moment or two, each was as severely shocked as when his absurd figure had first presented itself in that drawing-room. "Oh, heavens!" murmured Lady Cecilia: while the earl seemed struck dumb by the approaching figure of Titmouse. That gentleman, however, was totally changed from the Titmouse of a former day. He had now acquired a due sense of his personal importance, a just confidence in himself. Greatness had lost its former petrifying influence over him. And, as for his appearance on the present occasion, he had grown so familiar with it, as reflected in his glass, that it never occurred to him that the case might be different with others who beheld him for the first time. The candor upon which I pride myself urges me to state, however, that when Titmouse beheld the military air and superb equipments of the earl—notwithstanding that Titmouse, too, wore a sword—he felt himself done. He advanced, nevertheless, pretty confidently—bobbing about, first to Lady Cecilia, and then to the earl; and after a hasty salutation, observed,—"'Pon my life, my Lord, I hope it's no offence, but your Lordship does look most remarkable fine." The earl made no reply, but inclined towards him magnificently—not seeing the meaning and intention of Titmouse, but being affronted by his words.

"May I ask what your Lordship thinks of me? First time I ever appeared in this kind of thing, my Lord—ha! ha, your Lordship sees!" As he spoke, his look and voice betrayed the overawing effects of the earl's splendid appearance, which was rapidly freezing up the springs of familiarity, if not, indeed, of flippancy, which were bubbling up within the little bosom of Titmouse, on his entering the room. His manner became involuntarily subdued and reverential. The Earl of Dreddlington in plain clothes, and in full court costume, were two very different persons; though his Lordship would have been terribly mortified if he had known that any one thought so. However much he now regretted having offered to take Titmouse to the levee, there was no escape from the calamity; so, after a few minutes' pause, his Lordship rang the bell, and announced his readiness to set off. Followed by Mr. Titmouse, the earl slowly descended the stairs; and when he was within two or three steps of the hall floor, it distresses me to relate, that his Lordship suddenly fell nearly flat upon his face, and, but for his servants' rushing up, would have been seriously hurt. Poor Titmouse had been the occasion of this dismal disaster; for his sword getting between his legs, down he went against the earl, who went naturally down upon the floor, as I have mentioned. Titmouse was not much hurt, but terribly frightened, and became as pale as death when he looked at the earl; who appeared a little agitated, but, not having been really injured, soon recovered a considerable measure of self-possession. Profuse were poor Titmouse's apologies, as may be supposed; but much as he was distressed at what had taken place, a glance at the angry countenances with which the servants regarded him, as if inwardly cursing his stupidity and clumsiness, stirred up his spirit a little with a feeling of resentment. He would have given a hundred pounds to have been able to discharge every one of them on the spot!—

"Sir—enough has been said," quoth the earl, rather coldly and haughtily, tired of the multiplied apologies and excuses of Titmouse. "I thank God, sir, that I am not hurt, though at my time of life a fall is not a slight matter. Sir," continued the earl, bitterly—again interrupting Titmouse—"you are not so much to blame as your tailor; he should have explained to you how to wear your sword!" With this, having cut Titmouse to the very quick, the earl motioned him towards the door. They soon entered the carriage; the door was closed; and, with a brace of footmen behind, away rolled these two truly distinguished subjects to pay their homage to Majesty—which might well be proud of such homage!—They both sat in silence for some time. At length—"Beg your Lordship's pardon," quoth Titmouse, with some energy; "but I wish your Lordship only knew how I hate this cursed skewer that's pinned to me:" and he looked at his sword, as if he could have snapped it into halves, and thrown them through the window.

"Sir, I can appreciate your feelings. The sword was not to blame; and you have my forgiveness," replied the still ruffled earl.

"Much obliged to your Lordship," replied Titmouse, in a somewhat different tone from any in which he had ever ventured to address his august companion; for he was beginning to feel confoundedly nettled at the bitter contemptuous manner which the earl observed towards him. He was also not a little enraged with himself; for he knew he had been in fault, and thought of the neglected advice of his tailor. So his natural insolence, like a reptile just beginning to recover from its long torpor, made a faint struggle to show itself—but in vain; he was quite cowed and overpowered by the Presence in which he was, and he wished heartily that he could have recalled even the few last words he had ventured to utter. The earl had observed his presumptuous flippancy of manner, though without appearing to do so. His Lordship was accustomed to control his feelings; and on the present occasion made some effort to do so, for fear of alienating Titmouse from him by any display of offended dignity.

"Sir, it is a very fine day," he observed in a kind manner, after a stern silence of at least five minutes.

"Remarkable fine, my Lord. I was just going to say so," replied Titmouse, greatly relieved; and presently they fell into their usual strain of conversation.

"We must learn to bear these little annoyances calmly," said the earl, graciously, on Titmouse's again alluding to his mishap;—"as for me, sir, a person in the station to which it has pleased Heaven to call me, for purposes of its own, has his peculiar and very grave anxieties—substantial anx"–

He ceased suddenly. The carriage of his old rival, the Earl of Fitz-Walter, passed him; the latter waved his hand courteously; the former, with a bitter smile, was forced to do the same; and then relapsing into silence, showed that the iron was entering his soul. Thus the earl in his own person afforded a striking illustration of the truth of the observation which he had been making to Titmouse. Soon, however, they had entered the scene of splendid hubbub, which at once occupied and excited both their little minds. Without, was the eager crowd, gazing with admiration and awe at each equipage, with its brilliant occupants, that dashed past them:—then the life-guardsmen, in glittering and formidable array, their long gleaming swords and polished helmets glancing and flashing in the sunlight. Within, were the tall yeomen of the guard, in black velvet caps and scarlet uniforms, and with ponderous partisans, lining each side of the staircase—and who, being in the exact military costume of the time of Henry the Eighth, forcibly recalled those days of pomp and pageantry to the well-informed mind of Mr. Titmouse. In short, for the first time in his life, he beheld, and was overwhelmed by, the grandeur, state, and ceremony which fence in the dread approaches to MAJESTY. He was, fortunately, far too much bewildered and flustered, to be aware of the ill-concealed tittering and even laughter which his appearance excited, wherever he went. In due course he was borne on, and issued in due form into the presence chamber—into the immediate presence of Majesty. His heart palpitated; his dazzled eye caught a hasty glimpse of a tall magnificent figure and a throne. Advancing—scarce aware whether on his head or his heels—he reverently paid his homage—then rising, was promptly ushered out through a different door; with no distinct impression of anything that he had witnessed!—'twas all a dazzling blaze of glory—a dim vision of awe! Little was he aware, poor soul, that the king had required him to be pointed out upon his approach, having heard of his celebrity in society; and that he had had the distinguished honor of occasioning to Majesty a very great effort to keep its countenance. It was not till after he had quitted the palace for some time, that he breathed freely again. Then he began to feel as if a vast change had been effected in him by some mysterious and awful agency—that he was penetrated and pervaded, as it were, by the subtle essence of royalty—like one having experienced the sudden, strange, thrilling, potent influence of electricity. He imagined that now the stamp of greatness had been impressed upon him; that his pretensions had been ratified by the highest authority upon earth. 'Twas as if wine had been poured into a stream, intoxicating the tittlebats swimming about in it!—As for me, however, seriously speaking, I question whether anything more than an imaginary change had come over my friend. Though I should be sorry to quote against him language with which I have reason to believe he was not critically acquainted, I cannot help expressing an opinion that Horace must have had in his eye a Roman Titmouse, when he penned those bitter lines —

"Licèt superbus ambules pecuniâFortuna non mutat genus.—Videsne Sacram metiente te ViamCum bis ter ulnaram togâ,Ut ora vertat huc et huc euntium,Liberrima indignatio?—'Sectus flagellis hic triumviralibusPræconis ad fastidium,Arat Falerni mille fundi jugera,Et Appiam mannis terit!'"24

While Titmouse was making this splendid figure in the upper regions of society, and forming there every hour new and brilliant connections and associations—in a perfect whirl of pleasure from morning to night—he did not ungratefully manifest a total forgetfulness of the amiable persons with whom he had been so familiar, and from whom he had received so many good offices, in his earlier days and humbler circumstances. Had it not, however—to give the devil his due—been for Gammon, (who was ever beside him, like a mysterious pilot, secretly steering his little bark amid the strange, splendid, but dangerous seas which it had now to navigate,) I fear that, with Titmouse, it would have been—out of sight out of mind. But Gammon, ever watchful over the real interests of his charge, and also delighted, through the native goodness of his heart, to become the medium of conferring favors upon others, conveyed from time to time, to the interesting family of the Tag-rags, special marks of Mr. Titmouse's courtesy and gratitude. At one time, a haunch of doe venison would find its way to Mr. Tag-rag, to whom Gammon justly considered that the distinction between buck and doe was unknown; at another, a fine work-box and a beautifully bound Bible found its way to good Mrs. Tag-rag; and lastly, a gay guitar to Miss Tag-rag, who forthwith began twang-twang, tang-a-tang-tanging it, from morning to night, thinking with ecstasy of its dear distinguished donor; who, together with Mr. Gammon, had, some time afterwards, the unspeakable gratification, on the occasion of their being invited to dine at Satin Lodge, of hearing her accompany herself with her beautiful instrument while singing the following exquisite composition, for both the words and air of which she had been indebted to her music-master, a youth with black mustaches, long dark hair parted on his head, shirt-collars à-la-Byron, and eyes full of inspiration!

TO HIM I LOVE1

Affettuosamente.

Ah me! I feel the smartOf Cupid's cruel dartQuivering in my heart,Heigho, ah! whew!2With him I love

Allegro.

Swiftly time would move;With his cigar,And my guitar,We'd smoke and playThe livelong day,Merrily, merrily!Puff—puff—puff,Tang-a-tang, tang-a-tang?3When he's not near me,

Adagio, et con molto espressione.

O! of life I'm weary—The world is dreary—Mystic spirits of song,Wreathed with cypress, come along!And hear me! hear me!Singing,

Teneramente.

Heigho, heigho—Tootle, tootle, too,A—lackaday!

Such were the tender and melting strains which this fair creature (her voice a little reedy and squeaking, it must be owned) poured into the sensitive ear of Titmouse; and such are the strains by means of which, many and many a Miss Tag-rag has captivated many and many a Titmouse; so that sentimental compositions of this sort have become deservedly popular, and do honor to our musical and poetical character as a nation. I said that it was on the occasion of a dinner at Satin Lodge, that Mr. Titmouse and Mr. Gammon were favored by hearing Miss Tag-rag's voice, accompanying her guitar; for when Mr. Tag-rag had sounded Mr. Gammon, and found that both he and Titmouse would be only too proud and happy to partake of his hospitality, they were invited. A very crack affair it was, (though I have not time to describe it)—given on a far more splendid scale than Mr. Tag-rag had ever ventured upon before. He brought a bottle of champagne all the way from town with his own hands, and kept it nice and cool in the kitchen cistern for three days beforehand; and there was fish, soup, roast mutton, and roast ducks, roast fowls, peas, cabbage, cauliflowers, potatoes, vegetable marrows; there was an apple-pie, a plum-pudding, custards, creams, jelly, and a man to wait, hired from the tavern at the corner of the hill. It had not occurred to them to provide themselves with champagne glasses, so they managed as well as they could with the common ones—all but Titmouse, who with a sort of fashionable recklessness, to show how little he thought of champagne, poured it out into his tumbler, which he two-thirds filled, and then drank off its contents at a draught! Mr. Tag-rag trying to disguise the inward spasm it occasioned him, by a very grievous smile. He and Mrs. Tag-rag exchanged anxious looks; the whole of their sole bottle of champagne was gone already—almost as soon as it had been opened!

"I always drink this sort of stuff out of a tumbler; I do—'pon my life," said Titmouse, carelessly; "it's a devilish deal more pleasant than sipping it out of wine glasses!"

"Ye-e-s—of course it is, sir," said Mr. Tag-rag, rather faintly. Shortly afterwards, Titmouse offered to take a glass of champagne with Miss Tag-rag!—Her father's face flushed; and at length, with a bold effort, "Why, Mr. Titmouse," said he, trying desperately to look unconcerned—"the—the fact is, I never keep more than a dozen or so in my cellar—and most unfortunately I found this afternoon that six bottles had—burst—I assure you."

"'Pon my soul, sorry to hear it," quoth Titmouse, in a patronizing way; "must send you a dozen of my own—I always keep about fifty or a hundred dozen. Oh, I'll send you half a dozen!"

Tag-rag scarcely knew, for a moment, whether he felt pleased or mortified at this stroke of delicate generosity. Thus it was that Titmouse evinced a disposition to shower marks of his favor and attachment upon the Tag-rags, in obedience to the injunctions of Gammon, who assured him that it continued to be of very great importance for him to secure the good graces of Mr. Tag-rag. So Mr. Titmouse now drove up to Satin Lodge in his cab, and then rode thither, followed by his stylish groom; and on one occasion, artful little scamp! happening to find no one at home but Miss Tag-rag, he nevertheless alighted, and stayed for nearly ten minutes, behaving precisely in the manner of an accepted suitor, aware that he might do so with impunity since there was no witness present; a little matter which had been suggested to him by Mr. Gammon. Poor Miss Tag-rag's cheek he kissed with every appearance of ardor, protesting that she was a monstrous lovely creature; and he left her in a state of delighted excitement, imagining herself the destined mistress of ten thousand a-year—the blooming bride of the gay and fashionable Mr. Titmouse. When her excellent parents heard of what had that day occurred between Mr. Titmouse and their daughter, they also looked upon the thing as quite settled, and were eager in their expressions of gratitude to Providence. In the mean while, the stream of prosperity flowed steadily in upon Mr. Tag-rag, his shop continuing crowded; his shopmen doubled in number:—in fact, he at length actually received, instead of giving payment, for allowing young men to serve a short time in so celebrated an establishment, in order that they might learn the first-rate style of doing business, and when established on their own account, write up over their doors—"Timothy Tape, late from Tag-rag & Co., Oxford Street."

Determined to make hay while the sun shone, he resorted to several little devices for that purpose, such as a shirt-front with frills in the shape of a capital "T," and of which, under the name of "Titties," he sold immense numbers among the Eastern swells of London. At length it occurred to Gammon to suggest to Titmouse a mode of conferring upon his old friend and master a mark of permanent, public, and substantial distinction; and this was, the obtaining for him, through the Earl of Dreddlington, an appointment as one of the royal tradesmen—namely, draper and hosier to the king. When Mr. Tag-rag's disinterested and indefatigable benefactor, Gammon, called one day in Oxford Street, and, motioning him for a moment out of the bustle of his crowded shop, mentioned the honor which Mr. Titmouse was bent upon doing his utmost, at Mr. Gammon's instance, to procure for Mr. Tag-rag, that respectable person was quite at a loss for terms in which adequately to express his gratitude. Titmouse readily consented to name the thing to the great man, and urge it in the best way he could; and he performed his promise. The earl listened to his application with an air of anxiety. "Sir," said he, "the world is acquainted with my reluctance to ask favors of those in office. When I was in office myself, I felt the inconvenience of such applications abundantly. Besides, the appointment you have named, happens to be one of considerable importance, and requiring great influence to procure it. Consider, sir, the immense number of tradesmen there are of every description, of whom drapers and hosiers (according to the last returns laid before Parliament at the instance of my friend Lord Goose) are by far the most numerous. All of them are naturally ambitious of so high a distinction: yet, sir, observe, that there is only one king and one royal family to serve. My Lord Chamberlain is, I have no doubt, harassed by applicants for such honors as you have mentioned."

Hereat Titmouse got startled at the unexpected magnitude of the favor he had applied for; and, declaring that he did not care a curse for Tag-rag, begged to withdraw his application. But the earl, with a mighty fine air, interrupted him—"Sir, you are not in the least presuming upon your relationship with me, nor do I think you overrate the influence I may happen—in short, sir, I will make it my business to see my Lord Ko-too this very day, and sound him upon the subject."

That same afternoon an interview took place between the two distinguished noblemen, Lord Dreddlington and Lord Ko-too. Each approached the other upon stilts. After a display of the most delicate tact on the part of Lord Dreddlington, Lord Ko-too, who made a mighty piece of work of it, promised to consider the application.

CHAPTER X

Within a day or two afterwards, Mr. Tag-rag received a letter from the Lord Chamberlain's office, notifying him that his Majesty had been graciously pleased to appoint him draper and hosier to his Majesty! It occasioned him feelings of tumultuous pride and pleasure, similar to those with which the Earl of Dreddlington would have received tidings of his long-coveted marquisate having been conferred upon him. He started off, within a quarter of an hour after the receipt of the letter, to a carver and gilder a few doors off, and gave orders for the immediate preparation of a first-rate cast, gilded, of the royal arms; which, in about a week's time, might be seen, a truly resplendent object, dazzlingly conspicuous over the central door of Mr. Tag-rag's establishment, inspiring awe into the minds of passers-by, and envy into Mr. Tag-rag's neighbors and rivals. He immediately sent off letters of gratitude to Mr. Titmouse, and to "the Right Honorable, the Most Noble the Earl of Dreddlington;" to the latter personage, at the same time, forwarding a most splendid crimson satin flowered dressing-gown, as "an humble token of his gratitude for his Lordship's mark of particular condescension."

Both the letter and the dressing-gown gave great satisfaction to the earl's valet, (than whom they never got any farther,) and who, having tried on the glistening addition to his wardrobe, forthwith sat down and wrote a very fine reply, in his Lordship's name, to the note which had accompanied it, taking an opportunity to satisfy his conscience, by stating to the earl the next morning that a Mr. Tag-rag had "called" to express his humble thanks for his Lordship's goodness. He was, moreover, so well satisfied with this specimen of Mr. Tag-rag's articles, that he forthwith opened an account with him, and sent a very liberal order to start with. The same thing occurred with several of the subordinate functionaries at the palace; and—to let my reader, a little prematurely, however, into a secret—this was the extent of the additional custom which Mr. Tag-rag's appointment secured him; and, even for these supplies, I never heard of his getting paid. But it did wonders with him in the estimation of the world. 'Twas evident that he was in a fair way of becoming the head house in the trade. His appointment caused no little ferment in that nook of the city with which he was connected. The worshipful Company of Squirt-Makers elected him a member; and on a vacancy suddenly occurring in the ward to which he belonged, for he had a considerable shop in the city also, he was made a common council-man. Mr. Tag-rag soon made a great stir as a champion of civil and religious liberty. As for church and county rates, in particular, he demonstrated the gross injustice and absurdity of calling upon one who had no personal occasion for the use of a church, of a county bridge, a county jail, or a lunatic asylum, to be called upon to contribute to the support of them. A few speeches in this strain attracted so much attention to him, that several leading men in the ward (a very "liberal" one) intimated to him that he stood the best chance of succeeding to the honor of alderman on the next vacancy; and when he and Mrs. Tag-rag were alone together, he would start the subject of the expenses of the mayoralty with no little anxiety. He went to the chapel no longer on foot, but in a stylish sort of covered gig, with a kind of coal-scuttle shaped box screwed on behind, into which was squeezed his footboy, (who, by the way, had a thin stripe of crimson let into each leg of his trousers, upon Mr. Tag-rag's appointment to an office under the Crown;) he was, also, always a trifle later in arriving at the chapel, than he had been accustomed to be. He had a crimson velvet cushion running along the front of his pew, and the Bibles and hymn-books very smartly gilded. He was presently advanced to the honored post of chief deacon; and on one occasion, in the unexpected absence of the central luminary of the system, was asked to occupy the chair at a "great meeting" of the Society for the Promotion of Civil and Religious Discord; when he took the opportunity of declaring his opinion, which was enthusiastically cheered, that the principles of free trade ought to be applied to religion; and that the voluntary system was that which was designed by God to secure the free blessings of competition in spiritual teaching. As for Satin Lodge, he stuck two little wings to it; and had one of the portraits of Tittlebat Titmouse (as Tippetiwink) hung over his drawing-room mantel-piece, splendidly framed and glazed.