Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 3

"Thomas Tag-rag, Church-rate Martyr."

Subscriptions were entered into on his behalf; and as they were paid into his hands from time to time, he kept quietly increasing his purchases of linen-drapery and enlarging his business, in a most decisive and satisfactory manner. Nothing could exceed the accounts brought in to the poor martyr of the extent to which his custom was increasing; for in each window of his shop hung a copy of his portrait, attracting the eye of every passenger. But he was not the only person who rejoiced in this state of things; there being others who had a deep stake in his success, and whom—forgetful of the maxim that one should begin nothing till one has well considered the end of it—he had not at first adverted to, viz. HIS ASSIGNEES—to whom belonged, in point of law, the rattling business he was carrying on, and who were watching his movements with lively interest. He was suddenly struck dumb with dismay and astonishment when he heard of this unexpected issue of the affair, and began to fear that he had "missed his providential way." His assignees, however, seemed to think that they had got into theirs—and enlarged the premises, and greatly increased the stock, profiting by the continually augmenting popularity of Tag-rag. From the moment of this dismal discovery, his ardor in the Great Cause wonderfully declined; and he would have jumped at any decent excuse for getting out of the thing altogether. And, indeed, when he came to think of it—where was the difficulty? He had fought a good fight—he had maintained a great principle—he had borne the heat and burden of the day!—But while the martyr was thus musing within himself, powerful forces were coming into the field to his succor—viz. the Society for the Promotion of Civil and Religious Discord; who having caused all the proceedings against Tag-rag to be laid before an ambitious little Radical Barrister, he discovered a fatal flaw in them—viz. that in the Significavit, the word "Bishop" was spelled "Bisop," (i.e. without the "h.") The point was argued with prodigious pertinacity, and incredible ingenuity, by four counsel on each side; each party vehemently declaring that if he failed, the laws of England would be shaken to their very foundation: an intimation which not a little agitated the court. After great deliberation, however, the objection, "being in favor of liberty," was held to prevail; all the proceedings were quashed; and Mr. Tag-rag was consequently declared entitled to his discharge!—On this he was invited to a grand tea-party by the leading friends of the voluntary principle, given in Hackney Fields, where, amid a concourse of at least a hundred souls, (including women and children,) Tag-rag (inwardly shuddering, however, at the thought) avowed himself ready to go again to the stake, "if Providence should require it." That seemed not, however, likely to be the case; for the churchwardens, having already had to pay some £1,750 odd in the shape of costs, resolved never to meddle with him any more. He succeeded in prevailing on his assignees to take him into the shop, in order to carry on the business upon their account, and as their servant—for which they allowed him two pounds a-week. Out of this, however, he was soon after compelled by the parish authorities to allow twelve shillings a-week to Mrs. Tag-rag; and on making her the first payment, he actually spit in the poor woman's face! Dr. Johnson used to say that patriotism was the last refuge of a scoundrel. Now-a-days, however, it is Church-rate Martyrdom; and Tag-rag has had many imitators!

I must not, however, conclude this part of my long history, without adverting to what befell the surviving partners of Mr. Gammon, namely, Messrs. Quirk and Snap. The former had horrible misgivings as to the true cause of Mr. Gammon's death—having a strange inward persuasion that he had destroyed himself. When he heard of the event, very suddenly, from the laundress, he was seized with a fit of trembling which lasted for several days. He dared not attend the funeral—or go to Mr. Gammon's chambers, while his corpse lay there. Mr. Snap, however, had younger and firmer nerves; and resolved to gratify his natural and very delicate curiosity, by seeing "how Mr. Gammon looked in his coffin." The day after the enlightened coroner's inquest had been held, therefore, he went to the chambers for that purpose, and was shown by the sobbing laundress into the silent and gloomy bedroom where the remains of Mr. Gammon lay awaiting burial. The coffin lay on trestles near the window, which of course was darkened; and Mr. Snap, having taken off his hat, removed the coffin-lid and the face-cloth, and there was the cold stern countenance of Mr. Gammon, before him! In spite of himself, Mr. Snap trembled as he looked, and for a moment doubted whether in gazing at the yellow effigy of him that was, he really beheld the late Mr. Gammon; so fixed, so rigid, were the features—so contracted of their proportions, and disfigured by the close-fitting frilled cap. What determination was yet visible in the compressed lips! The once keen and searching eyes of Mr. Gammon were now hid forever beneath the heavy and clammy eyelids; and the ample brow was no longer furrowed by the workings of the active and powerful spirit which had "jumped the world to come!" Mr. Snap gazed for several minutes in silence, and his heart beat a little quicker than usual.

"Oh, sir!" sobbed the laundress at length, as she, too, advanced to look again at the countenance of her deceased master, and from which she seldom took her eyes long together when alone—"he was the kindest and best of men! He was indeed!" Mr. Snap said nothing, but presently took hold of the cold, thin, stiff fingers of Mr. Gammon's right hand, squeezed them gently, and then replaced the hand in its former position.

"I hope he's happy, dear soul!" cried the laundress, gazing at him through her tears.

"Yes, of course he is—no doubt," replied Mr. Snap, in a somewhat lower tone of voice than he had spoken in before, and slowly returned to the sitting-room; whither the laundress followed him as soon as she had replaced the face-cloth and coffin-lid.

"Got a drop of brandy in the room, Mrs. Brown?" he inquired, and passed his hand across his face, which had grown very pale.

She gave him what he asked for; he drank it, and sighed.

"Devilish ugly look that cap gives him—eh, Mrs. Brown? Hardly knew him."

"Ay, poor soul; but it don't much signify how the face looks if the heart's all right. He was always so kind to me; I shall never get another master like him!"

"Died very suddenly, Mrs. Brown; didn't he?"

"Ay, he did, sir! His troubles broke his heart!"

"He'd quite enough of them to do so!" replied Snap, significantly, and took his departure. He was one of the few who attended the funeral, and the day on which it took place was the gloomiest he had ever known.

Mr. Gammon being gone, old Mr. Quirk seemed to have quite lost the use of his head, and could attend to nothing. As for "the matters of the affidavits," which he had been ordered by the Court of King's Bench to answer, it was impossible to do so, except by acknowledging the facts they stated to be true; and he was, in the ensuing term, struck off the roll of attorneys, and ceased to be any longer a "gentleman, one of the attorneys of our lord the king, before the king himself." In short, he was completely broken up. He was quickly compelled to part with Alibi House—in fact, with all his property; and very narrowly escaped being thrown into a prison, there to end his days. During the last week of his stay at Alibi House, while all his effects were being sold, he was observed to sit down for hours together before a certain picture covered with black crape; and once or twice he lifted up the crape, and gazed with a horrid look at the object before him, as if he were meditating something very mysterious and dismal. Nothing, however, happened. If he had ever wished to hang himself, he never could succeed in screwing his courage up to the sticking-place. He prevailed on a friend to buy in, for him, that particular picture; and it was almost the only article that he took with him to the small lodgings to which he removed with his daughter, on the sale of Alibi House. As for poor Miss Quirk, I pity her from my very soul; for, though rather a weak girl, she was perfectly good-natured; and the reader will probably join in my indignation against Mr. Toady Hug, when he hears that that gentleman, on seeing the unfortunate turn which affairs took with Miss Quirk, owing to no fault of hers, at the very moment when he ought to have clung closest to the poor girl, deserted her, after having been engaged to be married to her ever since the period of her having been disappointed of the affections of Mr. Titmouse. It was, however, the business of the firm of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, that he had desired to marry; and finding that it no longer existed, he considered himself justified in rescinding the contract on the ground of a failure of consideration. Snap, hearing of this, instantly tendered his own "heart" in lieu of that of Mr. Hug—and was accepted. He kept this very quiet, however, till the fate of the action for a breach of promise of marriage, which he persuaded Miss Quirk to allow him to bring in her name against Mr. Hug, should have been decided—as it soon was; for I should have mentioned that no attempt had been made by any one to strike Snap off the rolls. He retained a Mr. Heartbreak, a most eloquent counsel in such cases: and as Mr. Toady Hug defended himself in what he imagined to be a very splendid speech, the jury immediately found a verdict against him of five hundred pounds—a little fortune for Miss Quirk, if Hug could have paid it. But the fact was, that he could not; and after a long negotiation between Snap and him, it was settled that there should be a sort of secret partnership between them; and that Hug should work out the damages, by doing Mr. Snap's business for a quarter only of the proper fees—the full fee, however, for appearance's sake among his brethren, was to be marked on his brief. Shortly after this Snap got married, and took a little house in Saffron Hill, only two doors from the old office; and, as he had always anxiously cultivated the acquaintance of the leading thieves, he soon got into a very respectable connection. A year afterwards, Mrs. Snap made him the happy father of a quaint-looking little child; which, being a boy, his father, out of reverence for his deceased friend and partner, Mr. Gammon, caused to be christened by the name of "Oily Snap." Old Mr. Quirk lingered on for about a couple of years longer, most inconveniently to Snap, when he died of a broken heart; and as Snap assisted in depositing the revered remains of his father-in-law in St. Andrew's church-yard, he could not help thinking within himself what a horrid thing it would be, were the old gentleman to get up again, and come back and establish himself for another couple of years, in their little back parlor!

Let us now, however, turn to characters worthier of our notice, of our sympathy, and our congratulation.

Two or three days after the assembling of the new Parliament, Lord Drelincourt was introduced by two of his brother barons, (one of whom was Lord De la Zouch,) with the usual formalities, into the House of Lords. As he stood at the table while being sworn in, tranquil and dignified, there was such an expression of noble simplicity and goodness in his features—which had not even then, however, entirely lost the traces of the anxiety and suffering through which he had passed during the last three years—as touched me to the very soul; and I fervently wished him health and long life to enjoy his new honors. He looked quite commanding in his ample ermine and scarlet robes; and having, with the pen which was tendered him, inscribed on the roll the name "Drelincourt"—(that of very nearly the most ancient barony in England)—and formally taken his seat on the barons' bench, and received the congratulations of his brother peers who came crowding around him—he stepped up to the woolsack, and grasped with silent energy the hand of the new Lord Chancellor, Lord Wolstenholme, who, composed and commanding in his appearance and bearing, and familiar with his position as if he had occupied it for more years than days, welcomed the newly-introduced peer with infinite warmth and cordiality. This was Sir Charles Wolstenholme, the Attorney-General of a few short months before, and he to whose masterly ability and unwavering friendship Lord Drelincourt was mainly, if not indeed altogether, indebted for the position which he then occupied. They sat talking together for some time; and the Chancellor happening to mention the ludicrous and yet intolerable pressure to which he was subject for everything he had to give away—particularly in the livings which fell to his disposal—instanced a small one in Devonshire of four hundred a-year, of which he had had notice only two hours before coming to the House, since which time he had had upwards of a dozen applications for it from so many peers then present! "Now, as a small memento of to-day, Drelincourt," said he, with a smile, "can you give me the name of any man who wants, and in your judgment would suit, such a living?"

"Oh, my dear Lord Chancellor!" replied Lord Drelincourt, with eager delight, "I know a man—a very able, exemplary, starving friend of mine, Mr. Neville—the Rev. Ralph Neville. He will do honor to your choice!"

"'Tis his!" replied the Chancellor; "give me his name and address—he shall have it offered him this very evening, if he live in town."

Lord Drelincourt, overjoyed, wrote down Mr. Neville's name and address, and gave it to the Chancellor; and having reminded him that their dinner hour was seven precisely, (the Chancellor had been for some time engaged to dinner with him on that day,) Lord Drelincourt somewhat hastily quitted the House, resolved to be himself the first bearer to poor Mr. Neville of the delightful intelligence of his promotion. His carriage, with Lady Drelincourt and Miss Aubrey in it, had been standing for some time near the House, awaiting his return, in order to drive once or twice round the Park before dinner; but you may guess the kind of transport with which they heard him give directions for their being driven to St. George's in the East, and the object of his errand. When Lord Drelincourt's equipage—simple and elegant, and with the coronet painted on the panels so small as not to challenge the observation of every passenger—drew up opposite the humble lodgings of Mr. Neville, he and his little sick wife were sitting at tea, for which purpose he had a few minutes before propped her up upon the sofa, on which she was obliged to recline during the greater part of each day. Prettily flustered were both of them on seeing the carriage roll up, the steps let down, and hearing Lord Drelincourt, followed quickly by Lady Drelincourt and Miss Aubrey, (it was the first time that they had seen the former two except as Mr. and Mrs. Aubrey,) knock at the door. Oh, how sweet was the office of communicating such news as that which they had brought to Mr. and Mrs. Neville! He, on hearing it, turned immediately, and as it were instinctively, to his pale suffering wife, with full eye and quivering lip—and she returned the look he gave her! Well he knew that the true source of her frail health was their privation and miserably straitened circumstances, and that the intelligence which they had just received, would, as it were, pour into the broken heart the oil of gladness and of health. There was not the slightest change in the deportment of his distinguished visitors; but his own was, in spite of all he could do to the contrary, consciously subdued, and a little embarrassed. What thankfulness was in his heart! How was the great, barren, frowning world around him, turned into a smiling paradise! No longer would they be unable to supply their few and modest wants! No longer deny themselves the innocent enjoyments of life, and cheerful intercourse with society! Soon would he be in the independent exercise of the delightful duties of the pastoral office! And what a thoughtfulness of their humble interests had been evinced by Lord Drelincourt in the first moments of his own excitement and triumph! To all parties, that was, indeed, an occasion of the outgoing of hearts towards each other; and Lord and Lady Drelincourt, before leaving, had insisted on seeing Mr. and Mrs. Neville at dinner in Dover Street, before they left town, as they expected would shortly be the case.

As I have already intimated, Lord Drelincourt had that evening a select dinner party; and there was a little incident connected with it, which will, I think, serve to set forth, were it necessary, his considerate good-nature. His guests consisted of the Lord Chancellor and Lady Wolstenholme, Lord and Lady De la Zouch, Mr. Delamere, three or four other friends, Mr. Runnington, and a Mr. Staveley, a former fellow-pupil of Lord Drelincourt's, and whom he had left still studying closely in the chambers of Mr. Mansfield. Lord Drelincourt had always entertained a very friendly feeling towards Mr. Staveley, who was a young man of very strong understanding, great industry, sound principle, and perfect frankness and simplicity of character. Mr. Aubrey had from the first observed the depression of spirits to which his companion was subject, and which, in the course of their subsequent unreserved communications with each other, he had discovered to be occasioned by the sad precariousness of his pecuniary circumstances, and the absence of all prospect or apparent chance of professional connection. It seemed that the relative by whose liberality alone he had been enabled to enter himself a student at Lincoln's Inn, and become a pupil of Mr. Mansfield's, had died suddenly, leaving his nephew almost totally destitute. Was it not likely that he was just such a person as would excite the yearning sympathies of his now ennobled fellow-student? Indeed it was so; and the reason of Lord Drelincourt's asking him to dinner on the present occasion was, to give him a personal introduction to two individuals capable of being hereafter of vast service to any candidate (possessed of industry, energy, and talent) for professional business and distinction; namely, Mr. Runnington, as a solicitor of first-rate eminence, great personal respectability, and amiability of character—and the Lord Chancellor; with both of whom, as may easily be believed, Lord Drelincourt had much personal influence. Mr. Staveley was the first guest that arrived, and he found Lord Drelincourt alone in the drawing-room. His Lordship seized the opportunity of conversing with his friend unrestrainedly upon the topics above alluded to, and of assuring him that he might always rely on any good offices which it might be in his Lordship's power to perform for him. He spoke to his desponding companion in a tone of earnest and inspiriting encouragement. "Come, come, my dear Staveley," said he, "exporrige frontem! It would seem to be the tendency of close and solitary legal study to make a man despair, and distrust the utility of his labors! But—go straight on!—Constancy, honor, industry, and talent, will inevitably clear the way for their possessor, and also in due time force him forward. Ah! believe me, I know what your feelings are; for very recently I shared them, but always endeavored to master them. As for the want of a connection, I can only say that I knew but one attorney and solicitor in all London—my own—a Mr. Runnington, (who dines with me to-day;)—but had I known none, I should not have been disheartened, so long as I had health of body and mind, and the means of pursuing my studies"–Here Lord Drelincourt's quick ear caught a faint and half-suppressed sigh, uttered by his companion.—"I did my best while engaged in the study of the law, and am sure that I shall never have occasion to regret it; and I frankly tell you, Staveley, I was as poor as a church mouse the whole time—over head and ears in debt; and, but for the kindness of this very Mr. Runnington, who lent me three hundred pounds, I never could have entered Mr. Mansfield's chambers, or formed your acquaintance."—While saying this, Lord Drelincourt was looking very keenly indeed at his companion.—"The law," continued his Lordship, "is a noble profession! I should have become an enthusiast in it had I continued to devote myself to its study and practice;—by the way, will you accept, as a little memento of our friendship—which I trust you will not permit to be broken off, Staveley—my few law-books? Of course, I have no further occasion for those which relate to the more practical"–Here one of the doors opened, and Lady Drelincourt and Miss Aubrey—oh, you beautiful Kate!—entered, looking each of them exceedingly lovely, and receiving Mr. Staveley with a charming cordiality and courtesy; for they had often heard Lord Drelincourt mention his name. The other guests then made their appearance, in quick succession; and Lord Drelincourt made a point of introducing Mr. Staveley, in very flattering terms, to the Chancellor, who received him with great urbanity, as indeed did Mr. Runnington. 'Twas truly a delightful dinner party—all were in high spirits. As for the Lord Chancellor, he took an opportunity during the evening of pressing on Lord Drelincourt the acceptance of an important office under the new government—one which they were exceedingly anxious to have satisfactorily filled, and to which would be annexed a seat in the cabinet!—Lord Drelincourt, however, firmly declined the brilliant offer, on the plea of the repose which he felt to be requisite, both for his family and himself, and also the attention due to his private affairs, to which it would be necessary to devote his personal superintendence for some time to come.—But to return for a moment to Mr. Staveley. Soon after he had sat down to breakfast the next morning, a servant of Lord Drelincourt's brought to his chambers a parcel, which, in fact, consisted of the books of which his Lordship had begged his acceptance over-night. With what peculiar interest did Mr. Staveley glance over them, finding in every page slight pencil marks, evidencing the careful reading of their former owner. In laying down the first book which he had opened, something fell from it upon the floor, which, on his picking it up, proved to be a letter addressed to himself, in the handwriting of Lord Drelincourt. On opening it, what were his feelings on seeing it contain an enclosure of a draft on his Lordship's banker for the sum of £300, which he begged Mr. Staveley to accept as a loan, to be repaid whenever and however he might think fit; and in terms of the most earnest delicacy, reminding him of the circumstance which his Lordship had named over-night; namely, his own acceptance of a similar sum from Mr. Runnington. Mr. Staveley colored under a conflict of emotions, which subsided quickly, into one strong and deep feeling of gratitude towards his truly noble and generous friend; and that morning he wrote a letter, acknowledging in fitting terms the munificent act of Lord Drelincourt, and enclosing his note-of-hand for the amount; both of which, however, on his receiving them, Lord Drelincourt, with a good-natured smile, put into the fire, that there might exist no evidence whatever of the transaction between himself and Mr. Staveley. His Lordship did not even take Lady Drelincourt in this matter into his confidence.

At length every arrangement had been made in London for their quitting it, and at Yatton for their arrival. The last article of furniture, a magnificent piano for Lady Drelincourt, had gone down a fortnight before. Lord and Lady De la Zouch, together with Mr. Delamere, had been at Fotheringham for some time; and the accounts which they gave in their letters, of the scene which might be expected on the memorable occasion of Lord Drelincourt's resuming possession of Yatton, threw them all into a flutter of excitement. From Mr. Delamere's accounts, it would seem as if the day of their return was to be a sort of jubilee. He himself had been to and fro twenty times between Yatton and Fotheringham; an entire unanimity of feeling existed, it seemed, with reference to all the leading arrangements, between himself, Mr. Griffiths, Dr. Tatham, Lord and Lady De la Zouch, and the Earl and Countess of Oldacre, whom it had been deemed expedient to take into their counsels upon the occasion; and a difficult negotiation concerning a certain fine military band, belonging to a regiment stationed only eleven miles off, had been brought to a most satisfactory termination! Dr. Tatham wrote letters to them, especially to Miss Aubrey, almost every day, and, in fact, they all began to imagine themselves already at Yatton, and in the midst of the delicious bustle that was going on there.