Читать книгу Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II - Egan Pierce - Страница 29

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Ye are stars of the night, ye are gems of the morn,

Ye are dew-drops whose lustre illumines the thorn;

And rayless that night is, that morning unblest,

When no beam in your eye, lights up peace in the breast;

And the sharp thorn of sorrow sinks deep in the heart,

Till the sweet lip of Woman assuages the smart;

?Tis her's o'er the couch of misfortune to bend,

In fondness a lover, in firmness a friend;

And prosperity's hour, be it ever confest,

From Woman receives both refinement and zest;

And adorn'd by the bays, or enwreath'd with the willow,

Her smile is our meed, and her bosom our pillow.

ARRIVED at Grosvenor Square, they found the party consisted of Colonel B——, his son and daughter, Miss Mortimer, and her brother, Mr. Sparkle, Mr. Merrywell, and Lady Lovelace. The first salutations of introduction being over, there was time to observe the company, among whom, Miss Mortimer appeared to be the principal magnet of attraction. The old Colonel was proud to see the friends of Mr. Sparkle, and had previously given a hearty welcome to Mr. Merrywell, as the friend of his nephew, the young Mortimer. Sparkle now appeared the gayest of the gay, and had been amusing the company with some of his liveliest descriptions of character and manners, that are to be witnessed in the metropolis. While Merrywell, who did not seem to be pleased with the particular attentions he paid to Miss Mortimer, was in close conversation with her brother.

Tom could not but acknowledge that it was scarcely possible to see Miss Mortimer, without feelings of a nature which he had scarcely experienced before. The elegant neatness of her dress was calculated to display the beauty of her form, and the vivid flashes of a dark eye were so many irresistible attacks upon the heart; a sweet voice, and smiling countenance, appeared to throw a radiance around the room, and illuminate the visages of the whole party, while Lady Lovelace and Maria B—— served as a contrast to heighten that effect which they envied and reproved. While tea was preparing, after which it was proposed to take a rubber at cards, a sort of general conversation took place: the preparations for the Coronation, the new novels of the day, and the amusements of the theatre, were canvassed in turn; and speaking of the writings of Sir Walter Scott, as the presumed author of the celebrated Scotch novels, Lady Lovelace declared she found it impossible to procure the last published from the library, notwithstanding her name has been long on the list, so much was it in request.

Sparkle replied, “That he had purchased the Novel, and would willingly lend it to the Ladies. As for the Libraries,” continued he, “they are good places of accommodation, but it is impossible to please every one, either there or any where else; they are however very amusing at times, and as a proof of it, I strolled the other morning to a Circulating Library, for the express purpose of lounging away an hour in digesting the politics and news of the day; but the curious scenes to which I was witness during this short period, so distracted my attention, that, despite of the grave subjects on which I was meditating, I could not resist lending an attentive ear to all that passed around me. There was something of originality in the countenance of the Master of the Library which struck me forcibly; and the whimsical answers which he made to his numerous subscribers, and the yet more whimsical tone in which they were pronounced, more than once provoked a smile. The first person who attracted my notice was a fine showy looking woman, dressed in the extreme of fashion, with a bloom upon her cheek, which might have emulated that of the rose, with this exception, that it wanted the charm of nature. Putting a list into the hands of the Bookseller, she inquired if he had any of the productions the names of which were there transcribed. Glancing his eye over the paper, he replied (with an archness which not a little disconcerted her, and which probably occasioned her abrupt disappearance, “The Fine Lady, Madam, is seldom or ever at home; but Family Secrets we are always ready to let out.” 'Characters of Eminent Men' growled out a little vulgar consequential Citizen, whose countenance bore the stamp of that insufferable dulness that might almost tempt one to imagine him incapable of comprehending the meaning of the words which he pronounced with an air of so much self-importance; 'Characters of Eminent Men, 195,' repeated the Snarler, in the same tone, 'I much fear if we can boast a quarter of that number, eh! Mr. Margin?' “I fear not, Sir,” replied Margin; “but such as we have are very much at your service.” 'Better be in the service of the nation than in mine, by far,' said the little purse-proud gentleman, shrugging his shoulders very significantly. “Shall I send it for you, Sir?” said Margin, without noticing the last remark. 'By no means, by no means; the volume is not so large, it won't encumber me much; I believe I shall find it small enough to put in my pocket,' pursued the little great man, grinning at the shrewdness of his own observations, and stalking out with as much self-complacency as he had stalked in. I knew the man well, and could not help laughing at the lofty airs he assumed, at the manner in which he affected to decry all his countrymen without mercy, at his unwillingness to acknowledge any talent amongst them, though he himself was a man of that plodding description who neither ever had done, nor ever could do any thing to entitle him to claim distinction of any sort. The young Coxcomb who next entered, was a direct contrast to the last applicant, both in person and manner. Approaching with a fashionable contortion, he stretched out his lady-like hand, and in the most languid and affected tone imaginable, inquired for The Idler. “That, Sir,” said Margin, “is amongst the works we have unhappily lost, but you will be sure to meet with it at any of the fashionable libraries in the neighbourhood of Bond Street or St. James's.” The young Fop had just sense enough to perceive that the shaft was aimed at him, but not enough to relish the joke, or correct the follies which provoked it, and turned abruptly on his heel. He was met at the door by a sentimental boarding-school Miss, who came flying into the shop in defiance of her governess, and inquired, in a very pathetic tone, for The Constant Lover. “That, I am afraid,” said Margin, “is not amongst our collection.” 'Dear me,' lisped the young Lady, with an air of chagrin, 'that's very provoking, I thought that was what every one had.' “Give me leave to assure you, Ma'am, that you are quite mistaken. I fancy you will find that it is not to be met with all over London.”

An old Gentleman of the old school, whose clothes were decidedly the cut of the last century, and whose stiff and formal manners were precisely of the same date with his habiliments, next came hobbling in. Poring through his spectacles over the catalogue which lay upon the counter, the first thing which caught his eye, was An Essay upon Old Maids. “Tom, Tom,” said the complaisant Librarian, calling to a lad at the other end of the shop, “reach down the Old Maids for the gentleman. They won't appear to advantage, I'm afraid, a little dusty or damaged, with having laid so long upon the shelf,” he added, with a simper, which was not lost upon any one present. A melancholy looking man, in whose countenance meekness and insipidity were alike plainly depicted, now came forward, inquiring, in an under, and what might almost be designated an alarmed tone of voice, for The Impertinent Wife; a female, who hung upon his arm, interrupted him by entreating, or rather insisting in no very gentle tone, 'that he would ask for something better worth having.' Margin, affecting only to hear the former speaker, immediately produced the book in question, and observed, with much naivete, “that the Impertinent Wife was sure to be in the way at all hours,” at the same time not omitting to recommend Discipline as “a better work.” A young man, whom I knew to be one of the greatest fortune hunters about town, with an air of consummate assurance, put out his hand for Disinterested Marriage. “That's a thing quite out of date—never thought of now, Sir,” said Margin, who knew him as well as myself; “Allow me to recommend something of more recent date, something more sought after in the fashionable world, Splendid Misery, Sir, or—“The young man heard no more: spite of his impudence, he was so abashed by the reply, that he made a hasty retreat. The last person whom I thought it worth my while to notice, was a tall, meagre looking man, whom I recollected to have seen pointed out to me as a wit, and a genius of the first order. His wit was, however, of that dangerous sort which caused his company to be rather shunned than courted; and it was very evident, from his appearance, that he had not had the wit to work himself into the good graces of those who might have had it in their power to befriend him. Though he spoke in a very low tone, I soon found that he was inquiring for Plain Sense. On Margin's replying, with much nonchalance, that Plain Sense had of late become very rare, finding himself disappointed in his first application, his next aim was Patronage. “That, Sir, (said the wary bookseller) is so much sought after, that I really cannot promise it to you at present; but if, as I conclude, you merely want something to beguile a leisure hour or two, probably The Discontented Man will answer the purpose very well.”

To this description of Sparkle, the whole company listened with attention and delight, frequently interrupting him with bursts of laughter. Tea was handed round, and then cards introduced. Young Mortimer and Merrywell seemed to take but little interest in the play, and evidently discovered their anxiety to be liberated, having some other object in view. Mortimer felt no great portion of pleasure in passing his time with his uncle, the Colonel, nor with his sister, Lady Lovelace, who was a perfect model of London affectation; besides, his friend Mr. Merrywell, who was to him what Tom Dashall and Sparkle had been to Tallyho, had made an engagement to introduce him to some of his dashing acquaintances in the West. Nods and winks were interchanged between them, and could not but be noticed by Tom and Bob, though Sparkle was so intent upon the amusements of the moment, and the company of the lovely Caroline, as to appear immoveable.

Mr. Merrywell at length stated that he must be compelled to quit the party. Young Mortimer also apologized; for as he and his friend were engaged for an early excursion in the morning, he should take a bed at his habitation, in order to be fully prepared. This was the first step to breaking up the party.

Merrywell called Sparkle on one side, saying he had something of importance to communicate. It was twelve o'clock, and the gentlemen, after taking a formal leave of the ladies and the Colonel, and a promise on the part of Sparkle to meet them again the next morning at twelve, to escort them to the Exhibition, left the house.

“I am really happy,” said Merrywell to Sparkle as they passed the door, “to have had the honour of this introduction, and shall have much pleasure in becoming better acquainted with Mr. Sparkle, who, though personally unknown to me, his name and fame are familiar.

Mr. Mortimer and myself are going to take a review of the neighbourhood of St. James's, probably to shake an elbow.”

“Excellent,” said Tom; “here is a fine opportunity for Mr. Tallyho to take a like survey, and, if agreeable, we will join the party. Though I am by no means a friend to gaming, I conceive it necessary that every person should see the haunts of its votaries, and the arts they make use of, in order to avoid them.”

“You are right, and therefore let us have a peep at them.” With this they ?walk'd on, listening with attention to the following lines, which were recited by Sparkle:

“Behold yon group, fast fix'd at break of day,

Whose haggard looks a sleepless night betray,

With stern attention, silent and profound,

The mystic table closely they surround;

Their eager eyes with eager motions join,

As men who meditate some vast design:

Sure, these are Statesmen, met for public good,

For some among them boast of noble blood:

Or are they traitors, holding close debate

On desp'rate means to overthrow the State?

For there are men among them whose domains

And goods and chattels lie within their brains.

No, these are students of the blackest art

That can corrupt the morals or the heart;

Yet are they oft in fashion's ranks preferred,

And men of honour, if you take their word.

But they can plunder, pillage, and devour,

More than poor robbers, at the midnight hour;

Lay deeper schemes to manage lucky hits,

Than artful swindlers, living by their wits.

Like cunning fowlers, spread th' alluring snare,

And glory when they pluck a pigeon bare.

These are our gamesters, who have basely made

The cards and dice their study and their trade."{1}

1 Gaming is generally understood to have been invented by

the Lydians, when they were under the pressure of a great

famine. To divert themselves from dwelling on their

sufferings, they contrived the balls, tables, &c. and, in

order to bear their calamity the better, were accustomed to

play for the whole day together, without interruption, that

they might not be rack'd with the thought of food, which

they could not obtain. It is not a little extraordinary that

this invention, which was originally intended as a remedy

for hunger, is now a very common cause of that very evil.

"True,” said Merry well, as Sparkle concluded, though he did not like the satire upon his own favourite pursuit; “those delineations are correct, and the versification good, as far as it applies to the worst species of the gaminghouse.”

“O,” said Tom, “then pray, Sir, which is the worst?”

“Nonsense,” said Sparkle, “there is neither worse nor best; these Hells are all alike. Sharks, Greeks, Gamblers, Knowing Ones, Black-legs, and Levanters, are to be met with at them all, and they meet to bite one another's heads off.”

“An admirable description, truly, of the company you are about to introduce us to, Gentlemen,” said Tallyho.

“I don't understand Greeks, Hells, and Black-legs,” said Mortimer, “and should like an explanation.”

“With all my heart,” replied Sparkle—“Hell is the general title now given to any well-known gaming-house, and really appears to be well chosen; for all the miseries that can fall to the lot of human nature, are to be found in those receptacles of idleness, duplicity, and villany. Gaming is an estate to which all the world has a pretence, though few espouse it who are willing to secure either their estates or reputations: and these Hells may fairly be considered as so many half-way houses to the Fleet or King's Bench Prisons, or some more desperate end. The love of play is the most incurable of insanities: robbery, suicide, and the extensive ruin of whole families, have been known to proceed from this unfortunate and fatal propensity.

“Greeks, Gamblers, Knowing Ones, and Black-legs, are synonimous terms, applied to the frequenters of the modern Hells, or Gaming-houses, and may be distinguished from the rest of society by the following peculiarities in pursuits and manners.

“The Greeks of the present day, though they may not lay claim to, or boast of all the attributes of the Greeks of antiquity, must certainly be allowed to possess that quality for which the latter were ever so celebrated, namely, cunning and wariness: for although no modern Greek can be said to have any resemblance to Achilles, Ajax, Patroclus, or Nestor, in point of courage, strength, fidelity, or wisdom, he may nevertheless boast of being a close copier of the equally renowned chief of Ithaca. You will find him in most societies, habited like a gentleman; his clothes are of the newest fashion, and his manners of the highest polish, with every appearance of candour and honour; while he subsists by unfair play at dice, cards, and billiards, deceiving and defrauding all those with whom he may engage; disregarding the professions of friendship and intimacy, which are continually falling from his lips.

“To become a good Greek (which, by the way, is a contradiction) it will be found necessary to follow these instructions:

“In the first place, lie should be able to command his temper; he should speak but little, and when he does mingle in conversation, he should most decidedly deprecate play, as a source of the greatest evil that can prey upon society, and elucidate its tendencies by striking examples which are well known to himself, and which are so forcibly impressed upon his recollection, that he is determined never to play deep again, but has no objection to a sociable and friendly game now and then, just to pass the time away a little agreeably. By this means he may readily mark down his man, and the game once in view, he should not appear too eager in the pursuit of it, but take good care, as the proverb says, to give a sprat, in order to catch a herring. This should be done by allowing some temporary success, before he make a final hit.

“There is perhaps no art which requires so much of continual practice as that of Greekery. It is therefore necessary, that the professor should frequently exercise himself in private with cards and dice, in order that his digits may be trained to a proper degree of agility, upon which the success of his art principally depends. He should also be accustomed to work with some younger man than himself, who, having once been a pigeon, is become a naute, that is enlightened and will not peach—consequently, he serves as an excellent decoy to others.

“To ascertain the property of the pigeon he intends to pluck, is another essential requisite; and when this important information is obtained, (which should be before he commences operations) he should affect the utmost liberality as to time, &c. and make a show of extending every honourable facility to his opponent, even by offers of pecuniary assistance; by which means, (if he should be fortunate enough to have it accepted) he may probably, by good management, obtain a legal security from him, and thus be enabled to fasten on his prey whenever he pleases.

“The title of a military man, such as Captain, is very useful to the Greek, as it introduces him well to society, and if he has once held a commission in the army, so much the better. If not, it can be assumed, so that if any unpleasant regimental peculation should be introduced, he may place his hand on the left side of his breast, declare he is astonished and alarmed at the calumnious spirit of the times, shake his head, and interlard his conversation with common-place ejaculations; such as the following—Indeed—No—Why I know Harry very well—he's a bit of a blood—can it be possible—I should not have thought it—bless my heart—exactly so—good God—a devilish good joke tho'—that's very true, says I—so says he, &c. &c.

“A Greek should be a man of some personal courage, never shrink from a row, nor be afraid to' fight a duel. He should be able to bully, bluster, swagger and swear, as occasion may require; nay, in desperate cases, such us peaching, &c. he should not object even to assassination. He should invite large parties to dine with him frequently, and have a particular sort of wine for particular companies. He should likewise be able to swallow a tolerable quantity of the juice of the grape himself, as well as know how to appear as if he were drinking, when he is merely passing the bottle, and so manage it passing, as to seem drunk at proper times. When good opportunities present themselves for the exercise of his art, and when a hit is really to be made, he should positively refuse to suffer play of any kind in his house, alleging that he has seen enough of it, and cut the concern. This serves to increase the desire for it in others. On any decisive occasion, when a train is known to be well laid, he should appear to be drunk before any one of the party; in which case he should take care beforehand to instruct his decoy to pluck the pigeon, while he, as a supposed observer, is betting with some one in the company, (of course an accomplice) and is also a loser.

“Greeks, who know each other, are enabled to convey information by means of private signals, without uttering a word, and consequently without detection. At whist, or other games on the cards, fingers are admirable conveyancers of intelligence, and by dexterous performers are so managed, as to defy the closest scrutiny, so as to have the natural appearance of pliancy, while, among the knowing ones, their movements are actually deciding the fate of a rubber.”

“Egad!” said Mortimer, “you seem to understand the business so well, I wonder you don't open shop.”

“My knowledge,” continued Sparkle, “is but theoretical. I cannot boast of much practical information, for it is long since I shook the lucky castor.”

“O, then, you are discontented because you have no luck.”

“Not so,” said Sparkle, “for I never play very deep, so that, win or lose, I can never suffer much; but I am willing to give information to others, and with that view I have detailed the nature of the houses and the general character of their frequenters, according to my own conception of them. The Levanter is a Black-leg, who lives by the broads{l} and the turf,{2} and is accustomed to work as it were by telegraph{3} with his pal; and if you take the broads in hand in their company, you are sure to be work'd, either by glazing, that is, putting you in the front of a looking-glass, by which means your hand is discovered by your antagonist, or by private signals from the pal. On the turf he will pick up some nobleman or gentleman, who he knows is not up to the rig—bet him fifty or a hundred on a horse—pull out his pocket-book—set down the name, and promise to be at the stand when the race is over; but takes care to be seen no more, unless he is the winner, which he easily ascertains by the direction his pal takes immediately on the arrival of the horses. But hold, we must dismiss the present subject of contemplation, for here we are at the very scene of action, and now for ocular demonstration.”

No. 40, now 32, Pall Mall, was the place of destination, a house well known, said, in Koubel's time, to be more à la Française, and of course more of a gambling-house, than any other of the same description in London. The former were good judges of their business, and did things in prime order; but, if report say true, the new Establishment