Chapter I
The great advantage of being the fool of the family—My destiny is decided, and I am consigned to a stockbroker as part of His Majesty's sea stock—Unfortunately for me Mr Handycock is a bear, and I get very little dinner.
If I cannot narrate a life of adventurous and daring exploits, fortunately I have no heavy crimes to confess; and, if I do not rise in the estimation of the reader for acts of gallantry and devotion in my country's cause, at least I may claim the merit of zealous and persevering continuance in my vocation. We are all of us variously gifted from Above, and he who is content to walk, instead of to run, on his allotted path through life, although he may not so rapidly attain the goal, has the advantage of not being out of breath upon his arrival. Not that I mean to infer that my life has not been one of adventure. I only mean to say that, in all which has occurred, I have been a passive, rather than an active, personage; and, if events of interest are to be recorded, they certainly have not been sought by me.
As well as I can recollect and analyze my early propensities, I think that, had I been permitted to select my own profession, I should in all probability have bound myself apprentice to a tailor; for I always envied the comfortable seat which they appeared to enjoy upon the shopboard, and their elevated position, which enabled them to look down upon the constant succession of the idle or the busy, who passed in review before them in the main street of the country town, near to which I passed the first fourteen years of my existence.
But my father, who was a clergyman of the Church of England, and the youngest brother of a noble family, had a lucrative living, and a "soul above buttons," if his son had not. It has been from time immemorial the heathenish custom to sacrifice the greatest fool of the family to the prosperity and naval superiority of the country, and, at the age of fourteen, I was selected as the victim. If the custom be judicious, I had no reason to complain. There was not one dissentient voice, when it was proposed before all the varieties of my aunts and cousins, invited to partake of our new-year's festival. I was selected by general acclamation. Flattered by such an unanimous acknowledgment of my qualification, and a stroke of my father's hand down my head which accompanied it, I felt as proud, and, alas! as unconscious as the calf with gilded horns, who plays and mumbles with the flowers of the garland which designates his fate to every one but himself. I even felt, or thought I felt, a slight degree of military ardour, and a sort of vision of future grandeur passed before me, in the distant vista of which I perceived a coach with four horses and a service of plate. It was, however, driven away before I could decipher it, by positive bodily pain, occasioned by my elder brother Tom, who, having been directed by my father to snuff the candles, took the opportunity of my abstraction to insert a piece of the still ignited cotton into my left ear. But as my story is not a very short one, I must not dwell too long on its commencement. I shall therefore inform the reader, that my father, who lived in the north of England, did not think it right to fit me out at the country town, near to which we resided; but about a fortnight after the decision which I have referred to, he forwarded me to London, on the outside of the coach, with my best suit of bottle-green and six shirts. To prevent mistakes, I was booked in the way-bill "to be delivered to Mr Thomas Handycock, No. 14, Saint Clement's Lane—carriage paid." My parting with the family was very affecting; my mother cried bitterly, for, like all mothers, she liked the greatest fool which she had presented to my father, better than all the rest; my sisters cried because my mother cried; Tom roared for a short time more loudly than all the rest, having been chastised by my father for breaking his fourth window in that week;—during all which my father walked up and down the room with impatience, because he was kept from his dinner, and, like all orthodox divines, he was tenacious of the only sensual enjoyment permitted to his cloth.
At last I tore myself away. I had blubbered till my eyes were so red and swollen, that the pupils were scarcely to be distinguished, and tears and dirt had veined my cheeks like the marble of the chimney-piece. My handkerchief was soaked through with wiping my eyes and blowing my nose, before the scene was over. My brother Tom, with a kindness which did honour to his heart, exchanged his for mine, saying, with fraternal regard, "Here, Peter, take mine, it's as dry as a bone." But my father would not wait for a second handkerchief to perform its duty. He led me away through the hall, when, having shaken hands with all the men and kissed all the maids, who stood in a row with their aprons to their eyes, I quitted my paternal roof.
The coachman accompanied me to the place from whence the stage was to start. Having seen me securely wedged between two fat old women, and having put my parcel inside, he took his leave, and in a few minutes I was on my road to London.
I was too much depressed to take notice of anything during my journey. When we arrived in London, they drove to the Blue Boar (in a street, the name of which I have forgotten). I had never seen or heard of such an animal, and certainly it did appear very formidable; its mouth was open and teeth very large. What surprised me still more was to observe that its teeth and hoofs were of pure gold. Who knows, thought I, that in some of the strange countries which I am doomed to visit, but that I may fall in with, and shoot one of these terrific monsters? with what haste shall I select those precious parts, and with what joy should I, on my return, pour them as an offering of filial affection into my mother's lap!—and then, as I thought of my mother, the tears again gushed into my eyes.
The coachman threw his whip to the ostler, and the reins upon the horses' backs; he then dismounted, and calling to me, "Now, young gentleman, I'se a-waiting," he put a ladder up for me to get down by; then turning to a porter, he said to him, "Bill, you must take this here young gem'man and that ere parcel to this here direction.—Please to remember the coachman, sir." I replied that I certainly would, if he wished it, and walked off with the porter; the coachman observing, as I went away, "Well, he is a fool—that's sartain." I arrived quite safe at St Clement's-lane, when the porter received a shilling for his trouble from the maid who let me in, and I was shown up into a parlour, where I found myself in company with Mrs Handycock.
Mrs Handycock was a little meagre woman, who did not speak very good English, and who appeared to me to employ the major part of her time in bawling out from the top of the stairs to the servants below. I never saw her either read a book or occupy herself with needlework, during the whole time I was in the house. She had a large grey parrot, and I really cannot tell which screamed the worse of the two—but she was very civil and kind to me, and asked me ten times a day when I had last heard of my grandfather, Lord Privilege. I observed that she always did so if any company happened to call in during my stay at her house. Before I had been there ten minutes, she told me that she "hadored sailors—they were the defendiours and preserviours of their kings and countries," and that "Mr Handycock would be home by four o'clock, and then we should go to dinner." Then she jumped off her chair to bawl to the cook from the head of the stairs—"Jemima, Jemima!—ve'll ha'e the viting biled instead of fried." "Can't, marm," replied Jemima, "they be all begged and crumbed, with their tails in their mouths." "Vell, then, never mind, Jemima," replied the lady.—"Don't put your finger into the parrot's cage, my love—he's apt to be cross with strangers. Mr Handycock will be home at four o'clock, and then we shall have our dinner. Are you fond of viting?"
As I was very anxious to see Mr Handycock, and very anxious to have my dinner, I was not sorry to hear the clock on the stairs strike four, when Mrs Handycock again jumped up, and put her head over the banisters, "Jemima, Jemima, it's four o'clock!" "I hear it, marm," replied the cook; and she gave the frying-pan a twist, which made the hissing and the smell come flying up into the parlour, and made me more hungry than ever.
Rap, tap, tap! "There's your master, Jemima," screamed the lady. "I hear him, marm," replied the cook. "Run down, my dear, and let Mr Handycock in," said his wife. "He'll be so surprised at seeing you open the door."
I ran down, as Mrs Handycock desired me, and opened the street-door. "Who the devil are you?" in a gruff voice, cried Mr Handycock; a man about six feet high, dressed in blue cotton-net pantaloons and Hessian boots, with a black coat and waistcoat. I was a little rebuffed, I must own, but I replied that I was Mr Simple. "And pray, Mr Simple, what would your grandfather say if he saw you now? I have servants in plenty to open my door, and the parlour is the proper place for young gentlemen."
"Law, Mr Handycock," said his wife, from the top of the stairs, "how can you be so cross? I told him to open the door to surprise you."
"And you have surprised me," replied he, "with your cursed folly."
While Mr Handycock was rubbing his boots on the mat, I went upstairs rather mortified, I must own, as my father had told me that Mr Handycock was his stockbroker, and would do all he could to make me comfortable: indeed, he had written to that effect in a letter, which my father showed to me before I left home. When I returned to the parlour, Mrs Handycock whispered to me, "Never mind, my dear, it's only because there's something wrong on 'Change. Mr Handycock is a bear just now." I thought so too, but I made no answer, for Mr Handycock came upstairs, and walking with two strides from the door of the parlour to the fire-place, turned his back to it, and lifting up his coat-tails, began to whistle.
"Are you ready for your dinner, my dear?" said the lady, almost trembling.
"If the dinner is ready for me. I believe we usually dine at four," answered her husband, gruffly.
"Jemima, Jemima, dish up! do you hear, Jemima?" "Yes, marm," replied the cook, "directly I've thickened the butter;" and Mrs Handycock resumed her seat, with, "Well, Mr Simple, and how is your grandfather, Lord Privilege?" "He is quite well, ma'am," answered I, for the fifteenth time at least. But dinner put an end to the silence which followed this remark. Mr Handycock lowered his coat-tails and walked downstairs, leaving his wife and me to follow at our leisure.
"Pray, ma'am," inquired I, as soon as he was out of hearing, "what is the matter with Mr Handycock, that he is so cross to you?"
"Vy, my dear, it is one of the misfortunes of mater-mony, that ven the husband's put out, the vife is sure to have her share of it. Mr Handycock must have lost money on 'Change, and then he always comes home cross. Ven he vins, then he is as merry as a cricket."
"Are you people coming down to dinner?" roared Mr Handycock from below. "Yes, my dear," replied the lady, "I thought that you were washing your hands." We descended into the dining-room, where we found that Mr Handycock had already devoured two of the whitings, leaving only one on the dish for his wife and me. "Vould you like a little bit of viting, my dear?" said the lady to me. "It's not worth halving," observed the gentleman, in a surly tone, taking up the fish with his own knife and fork, and putting it on his plate.
"Well, I'm so glad you like them, my dear," replied the lady meekly; then turning to me, "there's some nice roast weal coming, my dear."
The veal made its appearance, and fortunately for us, Mr Handycock could not devour it all. He took the lion's share, nevertheless, cutting off all the brown, and then shoving the dish over to his wife to help herself and me. I had not put two pieces in my mouth before Mr Handycock desired me to get up and hand him the porter-pot, which stood on the sideboard. I thought that if it was not right for me to open a door, neither was it for me to wait at table—but I obeyed him without making a remark.
After dinner, Mr Handycock went down to the cellar for a bottle of wine. "O deary me!" exclaimed his wife, "he must have lost a mint of money—we had better go up stairs and leave him alone; he'll be better after a bottle of port, perhaps." I was very glad to go away, and being very tired, I went to bed without any tea, for Mrs Handycock dared not venture to make it before her husband came up stairs.