THE TOOTHPICK-MAKERS' COMPANY.
The day was extremely fine; the windows of the rooms opening to the water, the house smelling of fried fish and mud, and the little boys with naked legs screaming, "please to make a scramble," we having attained this enviable position in the building which looked like a race-stand, by treading a labyrinth of the dirtiest alleys and stable-yards that ever pauper or pony inhabited. It was, however, a joyous scene; and Hull, who was good enough to be my Mentor on the occasion, pooh-poohed the waiters into allowing us to look at the dinner-room, all laid out for the company; more than a hundred were expected, partitions had been pulled down, holes cut out here, and props poked in there, to afford the required accommodation; in short, everything gave token of a goodly day.
Hull, who was at home everywhere, and everywhere popular, appeared, as soon as he arrived, to supersede everybody else.
"My dear friend," said he, "I happen to know these people—the Toothpick Makers are one of the most ancient corporations of the city. My dear sir, the Mercers were incorporated in the 17th of Richard the Second—I have a tract that will prove it—1393 they were embodied—I know the clerk of the company at this day—so do you."
"No, I do not," said I.
"Pooh, pooh," said Hull, "don't tell me—Jemmy Hobbs—everybody knows Jemmy Hobbs—married Miss Ball of Blackheath—'Splendid fellow, Jemmy. Well! these Mercers are a fine company, so are the Grocers,—St. Anthony is their patron. My dear sir, I am forced to know all these things. Then there are the Drapers, and the Fishmongers—pooh, pooh—Doctors, and Proctors, and Princes of the Blood, are all fishmongers—Walworth was a fishmonger—eh—my dear friend, you should see their paintings—splendid things—Spiridiona Roma—fish in all seasons. Then there are the Goldsmiths and the Skinners, and the Merchant Tailors—Linen Armourers—eh—queer fellows, some of them; but I do assure you—" (this was said in a whisper,) "you will see some men here to-day worth seeing."
"I suppose," said I, "the Toothpick Makers' Company was founded by Curius Dentatus—whence comes the French cure-dent."
"Pooh, pooh," said Hull, "no such thing—much older than Curius Dentatus—I happen to know—founded in the reign of Edward the Fifth, my dear friend."
About this period the company began to arrive "thicker and faster," and certainly I had never seen any one of them before, which gave, at least, an air of novelty to the scene. Generally speaking, they ran fat, and wore white waistcoats, such as that to which I had likened the bow window of 77, St. James's Street: they looked all very hot, and puffed a good deal;—however, they kept coming and coming, until the drawing-room, as a sort of thing like a bad conservatory, well placed to the south-west, was called, was so full that I began to be as hot as my companions. Six o'clock arrived, but no dinner; the master of the house (who, from wearing a similar sort of uniform waistcoat, I took to be a Toothpick Maker,) came in and spoke to some of the fattest persons of the community, evidently intimating that the banquet was ready—nevertheless no move was made, because it appeared that Mr. Hicks had not arrived.
"You had better," said one of the more important persons in the room, "let men be placed ready to see when Mr. Hicks arrives at the end of the lane by the stables."
"Yes, sir," was the answer; and from that time I heard nothing but Hicks and Mr. Hicks talked of, until I was driven by extreme curiosity to inquire of my omniscient friend Hull, who Mr. Hicks was.
"Hicks!" exclaimed Hull—"why, my dear friend, you know Mr. Hicks—the great Mr. Hicks—everybody knows Hicks."
"I for one," said I, "do not—" and it turned out that at the moment I was not likely to be enlightened, for, just as Hull was about to give me an account of this important personage, a hubbub and bustle near the door, which speedily pervaded the whole assembly, proclaimed his arrival. In a moment the buzz of conversation ceased, a sort of circle was made round Mr. Hicks, and several of the most distinguished members of the community hurried up to take their places near him. Hull dragged me towards this sanctum, this magic ring, and, with a look of the greatest importance, assured me, that it was right that I should immediately be presented to Mr. Hicks. The presentation accordingly took place, and no sooner was it over, than one of the grandees came up to me, and, in a confidential whisper, informed me that my place at dinner was on the left of Mr. Hicks, as being a friend of the master. I concluded that the arrangement was attributable to Hull, who, I found, was to be my neighbour on the left, and, although I could have dispensed with the honour of so close an approximation to the hero of the day, I rejoiced mightily that I was placed so near my friend Hull, who would be as useful to me upon such an occasion as is a catalogue of the pictures at an exhibition anywhere else.
In a very short time dinner was announced, and Mr. Hicks, having the master on his right hand, led the way to the large room upstairs, round the whole of which the table ran, exhibiting, as I entered the apartment, a lengthened line of tin covers, looking like a collection of cuirasses, glittering on the board;—the heat was tremendous, and the air redolent with fried flounders. A few minutes sufficed to arrange us, grace was said by the chaplain, and we fell to. As in all similar cases, the exercise of eating and drinking superseded conversation or remark, and I, who did but little in that way myself, and having therefore an opportunity of seeing the modus operandi at my leisure, became suddenly enlightened as to the extent to which such pleasures may be carried. Of each and every dish did each and every man partake, from turtle to white-bait, both inclusive; by comparison with the individuals now before and around me, my friend Bucklesbury, whom I had a week before considered a prodigy in the way of feeding, sank into insignificance; to the elaborated course of fish succeeded a host of fowls, cutlets, hashes, stews, and other things of that nature, accompanied by sundry haunches of venison, and succeeded again by ducks innumerable, and peas immeasurable. The destruction of all these articles was, however, effected with ease in less than an hour and a half, during which the attentions paid to Mr. Hicks were most marked and gratifying: if the sun shone in upon the tip of his nose, the waiters were ordered to pull down the blinds before him; if the gentlest breeze wantoned about the back of his neck, the master of the house was called to shut the window behind him; for him the chairman culled the choicest bits; to him the landlord tendered his most particular wines: every eye was fixed on his actions, every ear seemed open to his words; he had, however, as yet spoken little, but had "eaten the more."
All sublunary pleasures must have an end, so had this dinner; and a call of silence, and the thumping of the president's hammer upon the table, announced that some professional gentlemen were about to sing Non nobis, Domine. They began—we all standing up—I with the sun full in my eyes, setting over London in all its glory. The voices harmonised beautifully; but fine and melodious as they were, I felt that the canon, or whatever it is called, very much resembled a fire which, smouldering and smouldering in the low notes, kept perpetually bursting out in a fresh place, when one fancied it out. As far as the religious feeling of the thing goes, it was misplaced; and as for its duration, it seemed to be more like three graces than one.
This over, the wine began to pass, and "beards to wag;" Hicks grew condescending, and the day began to mend; the King's health was given—song, God save the King—chorus by the company, all standing—The Queen—The Prince of Wales—then the Duke of York and the Army—the Duke of Clarence and the Navy—the Memory of St. Ursula, the mother of all Toothpick Makers, with an appropriate glee, received with loud cheers.
The Master then rose and begged to propose a toast. No sooner had he uttered these words, than the whole room rang with applause, the wine-glasses danced hornpipes upon the table to the music of the forks and spoons, and the noise was tremendous. "I see," continued the worthy president, "that you anticipate my intentions; gentlemen, there could be no doubt upon your minds what the toast would be" (more cheering). "I will not occupy your time, nor hinder you from the gratification of your feelings upon this topic by dilating upon the merits of the illustrious individual whose health I am about to propose; whether we regard him in public life, guiding by his zeal and energy the community which he fosters and protects by his influence, or view him in private society, the ornament of the circle of which he is the centre, our gratitude and admiration are equally excited. Gentlemen, I will not trespass upon your time, or wound, what I know to be the delicacy of his feelings, by recapitulating the deeds which gild his name, and which have, during the last year, added so much to his honour and reputation, and to the welfare and comfort of his colleagues and associates:—I beg to propose the health of Benjamin Spooner Hicks, Esq.,—a name dear to every Englishman—with all the honours."
Then came a storm of applause unparalleled, at least in my experience. A band of music, which had hitherto been silent, struck up "See the Conquering Hero comes," and nine times nine cheers were given in a style the most overwhelming. During this storm of rapture, I seized the opportunity of once again asking Hull who Hicks was, and what he had done, to deserve and receive all these extraordinary marks of approbation and applause, but all I could extract from my rubicund friend was, "Pooh, pooh,—don't tell me—you know Hicks—my dear friend, everybody knows Hicks—there isn't a man better known in the universe." There was no time amidst the din of glory to assure him once more that I had by no possible accident ever heard his name before, so I resumed my seat, as the object of our enthusiasm quitted his, to return thanks. His up-rising was hailed by the company with an almost Persic adoration:—silence at length having been obtained, he spake—
"Sir, and Gentlemen,—There are certain periods in our existence which entirely defy description—this, as far as I am concerned, is one of them. I have been placed in many trying situations, and I think I may say, without fear of contradiction, I have behaved as became a man (loud cheers); I am aware that some of my efforts for the benefit of my fellow-creatures have been crowned with success (hear, hear, hear); and I am thankful to Providence that I am possessed of the means to do good to them as is not so well off as myself (loud cheers). I say, sir, it would be the height of baseness for a man who has been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, not now and then to take it out, and feed them as has not been so fortunate (great cheering). My political feelings and principles I need not touch upon (immense cheering); they are known to all the world (tumultuous applause); I shall steadily maintain the course I have heretofore followed, and observe the straight line, neither swerving to the right, nor to the left, as little awed by the frown of power as flattered by its smiles (hear, hear, hear).
"Gentlemen, I sincerely thank you for the honour you have done me, and beg to drink all your good healths in return."
The shoutings were here renewed, but to an extent far beyond the former exhibition. Mr. Hicks sat down, but still the thunder continued; and scarcely had it subsided, even for a moment, when Mr. Hicks, upon his legs again, caused a relapse which nearly drove me mad.
Hicks waved his hand, and it was a calm—you might have heard a pin drop—he had to propose the health of the worshipful chairman, the Master of the Toothpick Makers' Company.
After expressing in almost the same words that Hicks had just before used, his conviction that this was the "proudest moment of his life," the chairman continued to observe, that if anything could possibly add to the gratification of having his health drunk by such an assembly, it was the fact of its having been proposed by such an individual. He then proceeded to say, that he was quite sure in that society, composed as it was of men of all parties, all professions, and all politics, he need not expatiate upon the merits of the honourable gentleman to whom he had previously alluded—they were known all over the world. He, like Hicks, returned the most heartfelt acknowledgments for the favour he had received at their hands, and sat down amidst very loud acclamations.
Still I was left in ignorance of all the great deeds which "gilt" my friend Hicks's "humble name;" and I found, being so near him, that it was quite impossible to get enlightenment. At length, however, I was destined to hear something of the character of his achievements; for shortly after the worshipful master had sat down, and just before the healths of the wardens of the Toothpicks, or some such functionaries, were about to be toasted, a tall, thin, pale man—a rare specimen in the Museum—rose and said, as nearly as I can recollect, what follows:—
"Sir, I am sure you will forgive me for the intrusion I now venture upon; but I cannot permit this opportunity to pass without expressing, on my own part and on the behalf of several of my worthy neighbours, a sense of our obligation—and, indeed, the sense of obligation under which, like us, the rest of civilised Europe, are laid, by the manly, courageous, zealous, and indefatigable exertions of the honourable gentleman on the right of the chair, to whom you have so justly referred (loud cheers). It may, perhaps, be thought superfluous in me to enlarge upon a subject so familiar to your hearts; but I cannot avoid mentioning a trait which at once displays the greatness of that honourable gentleman's mind, the prowess of his courage, and his immutable determination to do justice to all men"—(still louder cheers followed this point).
"I think," continued the pale man, "I need not speak more distinctly upon the subject to which I allude." (Here shouts rent the room, and glasses began to dance again.) "But, lest there should be any gentleman present, who might by accident be unacquainted with the circumstance to which I refer"—(cries of "no, no! impossible! hear, hear! order, order!") "I say, if—for it may be so—if such a thing should be, I think it best at once to explain, that the conduct to which I now specifically refer, but which I may truly say is of a piece with every action of his honoured life, is that which our great benefactor—and friend—if he will allow me so to call him"—(Hicks nodded, and said "hear!")—"observed upon the occasion of removing the lamp from the corner of Black Lion Street to the head of Spittle Court." (Immense cheering.) "Sir, I do not wish to go into the question of the eleven yards of pavement from the Swan Inn to the bootmaker's"—(roars of laughter burst from part of the company, as the evident severity of this remark upon the conduct of some other eminent individual, murmurs from others, "hear, hear!" from many, and "oh, oh!" from a few!) "I strictly confine myself to the lamp; and I do say, without fear of contradiction, that the benefit conferred on society by that change, and the manly way in which it was effected, without truckling to the higher powers, or compromising the character and dignity of the Company, has shed immortal lustre upon the name and fame of the honourable gentleman to whom I have alluded. (Immense cheers.) I have to apologize for this effusion"—("no, no! bravo") "but it is involuntary. I have for several months laboured under emotions of no ordinary nature; I have now unburdened my mind, and have done my duty to myself, my honourable friend, and my country."
The ogre sat down amidst the loudest possible applause, and more shouts were sent forth in honour of Hicks.
The healths of the Wardens of the Company were then drunk—they returned thanks:—then came alternately songs and glees by the professional gentlemen:—then they drank Mrs. Hicks and family;—and then—for be it observed, the fervour of the applause increased as the night grew older—the uproar was tremendous. Nine times nine seemed infinitely too small a complement of cheers to compliment the Hickses, and I had become dead tired of the whole affair, when Mr. Hicks—the great Mr. Hicks—rose to return thanks for that honour. He talked of connubial felicity, and spoke of the peculiar merits and charms of his daughters with all the eloquence of a tuft-hunting mother. Having done which, he fell to moralising upon the lateness of the hour, and the necessity of recollecting that Greenwich was nearly five miles from town; that, happy as we were, prudence pointed to a period at which such enchantments should terminate. "Gentlemen," said he, "in conclusion, I have obtained permission to propose one parting bumper. I believe we are all agreed that the constitution of England is a blessing envied by every country in the world—(loud cheers). We have drank the king, the queen, the royal family, the army, the navy, the ministers, and indeed everything that we could be well supposed to drink constitutionally. Gentlemen, the place in which we are now assembled suggests to me the best, the most loyal, the most appropriate, and the most constitutional toast possible as a conclusion. I give it you with feelings of mingled loyalty and piety—I propose to you, 'The Crown and Sceptre,' and may they never be separated."
This unqualified piece of nonsense, delivered seriously by Hicks (rather overcome) to about fifty or sixty survivors of the original dinner, nearly killed me with laughing: not so the company—at it they went—cheered like mad—up-standing nine times nine—rattle went the forks—jingle and smash went the glasses—and, in the midst of the uproar, Hicks rose, the Master did the same, and, of course, we followed the example.
Then came all the worry and confusion about carriages—the little alley was crowded with people seeking for conveyances—it had just begun to rain. Hull looked at me, and inquired what vehicle I had?—I had none—I was annihilated—when, judge my delight and surprise at finding the illustrious Hicks himself at my side, offering Hull and myself places in his coach. I could scarcely believe it; however, so it was, and an advantage was derivable from it for which I was scarcely prepared.
"Come down with me," said Hicks, "directly:—this way—they are preparing a deputation to light me through the alley to the carriage—I want to avoid it. My boy tells me it is all ready—if we can but get round the corner, we shall be off without being observed—they will do these things, but incog. for me—I hate state and finery—eh, Mr. Hull?"
"Pooh, pooh!" said Hull, "you need no new honours—to be sure—what a day—eh—never was any thing so splendid!"
And so Hicks's boy, or, as Hull called him, "b'y," preceding, we made our escape into the patriot's carriage; and never did I more rejoice in my life. The quiet of the calm which aeronauts experience when they rise in a few minutes from the tumultuous shoutings of the populace into the dead stillness of the vast expanse above, cannot be more surprising than was the tranquillity of the coach compared with the boisterousness of the company.
Mr. Hicks carried us as far as he could, without inconveniencing himself, and set us down at the corner of a small street in Cheapside, having, just before we parted, mentioned to me that if at any time I should be in need of any article in the hardware line, I should find every thing he had at wholesale prices and of the very best quality.
Hull and I walked westward, but whether it arose from the length of the way or its width, I cannot exactly state, I was uncommonly tired when I reached home. When I fell asleep, which I did as soon as I got into bed, I dreamed of the extraordinary infatuation which possesses men in all classes of life to believe themselves eminently important, and their affairs seriously interesting to all the rest of the world; and became perfectly satisfied that every sphere and circle of society possesses its Hicks, and that my friend the hardwareman was not one bit a greater fool than his neighbours.
THE MANSERVANT'S LETTER.[64]
Murrel Green, Thursday.
"Dear Sarah,—I should not wonder if you wasn't a little surprised at neither seeing nor hearing from me before this, as I calculate you also will be at reading the date of this hepistol. The truth is, that the Captain, whose stay in England will be very short, says to me, just as I was coming off to you the night after I wrote, 'Lazenby,' says he, 'where do you go when you leave me?' So I contumaciously expressed myself in these identical words, 'Why, sir,' says I in a masculine manner, 'I am going to Blissford.' Whereupon he observed to me that he supposed I had got what the French calls a chair ah me there, and that I was likely to settle myself in the neighbourhood—so then I expostulated with him and mentioned my notion of setting up in the general line, and he laughed and said that he hoped to do that himself some day, and was quite factious upon the toepick, which after his manner the night before, rather constaminated me, as Goldfinch says in Ben Jonson's 'Beggars' Opera;' whereupon he; says, looking at me in his droll way, 'Tom,' says he, 'I shan't be long in London; hadn't you better go up with me and Mrs. M. when we are married, and stop with us till we go?'—for, mind you, he is going to take her out with him to share the toils of the champaign; and this was the very first of his directly insinuating that the thing was all settled: so I hesitates a little; and thinking of you, my dear Sarah, I says, says I, 'Sir, will you give me an hour to preponderate?'—'To be sure I will,' says the Captain. Well, I begins to think; and I calculated I might make a few pounds by stopping and paying his bills and managing his luggage, and all that, before he went. So I says to Susan—she as I wrote about in my last—'If you was me,' says I, 'what would you do in this conundrum?'—'Why,' says Susan, 'if you ask me my advice, if I was you I'd stay and go with the Captain.' So I considers a bit more; and I says to her, 'I don't much like missus as is to be.'—'Nor I,' said Susan, 'although I have knowed her longer than you; but for all that, I'm going as her maid; only to stay till they leave England for good.'—'Why,' says I, having heard her opinion of the future Mrs. Merman, and how Mrs. Gibson had gone away entirely excavated by the levity of her mistresse's behaviour, 'I had no notion you would do such a thing.'
"So Susan says to me, 'Lazenby,' says she—she calls me Lazenby, for we are quite like brother and sister now—'my old missus wishes it; and she hints something about remembering me hereafter; and so what is it?' says Susan; 'in these days, folks don't stick at trifles; and sure if Miss Millicent is good enough to be Captain Merman's wife, she is good enough to be my missus.' That seemed remarkably judicial to my comprension; and so, thinking what was good for Susan could not be interogatory to me, up I goes to the Captain, and agrees to stay with him, as I tell you, till he bids a Jew to his native land, at which perriod, dear Sarah, I hope to return to you, like the good bee who, as Pope says in 'The Deserted Village'—
'Behaves in bee-hives as behoves him,'
and bring you an affectionate art, and I should say upwards of seven pounds fourteen shillings in hard cash by way of hunney. Susan says she should like to know you, she is so much indisposed towards you by my inscription of you; and I should like you to be friends, which perhaps may be some of these days, if she comes back to that part of the country. She would be uncommon nice company for both of us, she is so candied and filantropical, and it is a great thing for a married couple to have such a friend.
"I don't know whether you have ever been in this quarter of the world, although, as I don't think you could well have got to Blissford by any other road from London, pr'aps you have; it is very wild and romantic, with a bit of a green before the door, upon which there are geese, ducks, enseterar; and Susan and I am going to take a walk, and we shall carry this letter ourselves to Artley Row, where is the Post-office, because, as I have promised the Captain not to say anything one way or the other, I thought if he saw a letter redressed to the Passonage, he might inspect something; so Susan and I agreed it would be better to go out in the dusk as if miscellaneously, and slip it in unbeknown to any body, while master and missus is enjoying their teat a teat after dinner. We go on to the meterpolis in the morning, and Susan and I go outside in the rumble-tumble, for Miss Pennefather has lent us the charriot, which I suppose I shall have to bring back, which, as I cannot do without horses, will be a very pretty incursion. I don't in course know how long the Captain will be before he goes, so do not fret. I have got your wach, which does not keep tim well, but I never look at it without thinking of you. Susan says it wants to have new hands put to it, and I shall give it to a watchmaker in town to riggle at it spontaneously on my arrival. The Captain and his mate seem very happy, which also makes me think of you, Sarah dear; she certainly is no beauty to my taste; she is a good deal in the Ottomy line, and I should say not easily pleased; but in course as yet it all goes uncommon comfortable; for, as O'Keefe says in his comical farce of 'Love for Love:'—
To fools a curse, to those a lasting boon,
What wisely spends the hunney moon.
"I hope poor Miss Fanny don't take on about the loss of master; I'm sure if I was she, and knew that he left me for the sake of Malooney's money, I should care no more about him than nothing at all—true love loves for itself a loan—don't it, dear Sarah? Oh, Sarah! Susan and I had some hot sassages and mashed potatoes for dinner to-day, and I did so think of you, and I said so; and Susan says to me, says she, 'Does your Sarah love sassages?' so I said, says I, 'Yes, where's the girl of taste as doesn't?'—and so she says again, 'Then I wish she was here'—and we both laughed like bogies. So that shows we don't forget you.
"As to Miss Fanny, there is one thing—which, if you have an opportunity upon the sly, you may incoherently hint—which may be p'rhaps a considerable revelation of her despondency, if she still cares for master; which is this—the officer which is to have the recruiting party in place of him, as Rattan told me before I came away, is taller and better-looking than master, and quite the gentleman: p'raps, if you tell Miss Fanny that, it will controvert her regret, and make her easy—I know enough of the seck, Sarah, to know that it is with females as it is with fighters—to use the words of Young in his 'Abelard and Eloisa,'—
One down, t'other come on.
"And so perhaps Miss Fanny may make up her mind to the gentleman which will relieve my master—I am sure I hope she may, for she is I am sure constipated to make any man happy in that way. Well, Sarah dear, I must now say good-bye—or else, Tim flies so fast, Susan and I may be mist. I haven't room to tell you all about Master's wedding, which was all done with as little ceremony as possible, and as Susan says there was not a minnit to be lost, but I will explain all particulars when I come back to you, which will not be long first. So squeeze my keeping you in expence for these few days, for I was so busy I could not write before, but Susan says she is sure you will forgive me, and so I think you will.
"I say, dear Sarah, in exclusion, I hope that you have not been speaking to William Waggle, the baker's young youth, because, as I am absent, it might give some grounds for calomel—Mrs. Hodgson and those two Spinkeses her sisters is always a-watching—I'm not a bit jellies myself—no, I scorn the 'green hided malster,' as Morton says in his 'New Way to pay old Debts'—but I know the world—I know what the old Tabbies say, and how they skirtinize every individil thing which relates to us—as I says to Susan—the eyes of the hole world is on us two—you and me—and therefore, Sarah dear, mind what you do, and do not encourage any of them to walk with you in an evening—specially Bill, inasmuch as the whiteness of his jacket would make the round-counter the more evident to the Hargooses of the place.
"A jew Sarah—the next you will hear from me will be in London—most probably at the Whiteoss Cellar in Pickadilly, or the Golden Cross, Charing Cross, which the Captain thinks the quietest spots to fix upon—rely upon my righting you the minute I have time—I told Rattan that I was going back to Blissford, so he will have had no message for you; besides, I don't want you to have any miliary connexions during my abstinence—therefore please to remember me in your art, as I do you in mine, and if you will, do me the fever to pay Mrs. Jukes three and ninepence which I owe her for washing my things, which I will repay you when we meet—best love, in which Susan, though she does not know you, joins with equal sincerity—take care of yourself, dear Sarah, and mind about the baker.
"Yours always true till death,
"Thomas Lazenby."