The Mysteries of London, v. 3/4

by George W. M. Reynolds

We have before hinted that the house was a perfect nuisance in Baker Street. And no wonder, indeed, that it should have been so considered; for it seemed to be the main source whence emanated all the frightful noises that could possibly alarm nervous old ladies or irritate gouty old gentlemen. No sooner did the day dawn, than Captain O'Blunderbuss would fling up the window of his bed-room, which was at the back of the house, with a crashing violence that made people think he was mad; and, thrusting forth his head with a white night-cap upon it, he would roar out—"John! John! to arms!" as lustily as he could bawl. This was not only to save himself the trouble of repairing to the footman's chamber to summon him, but also for the purpose of letting the sheriff's-officers, if any were in the neighbourhood, know that he was on the alert. Then John would poke his head out of another window, and answer the captain's call; and a few minutes afterwards the back-door would open and shut with a terrific bang, and John would be seen to sally forth to mount sentry in the yard, with shouldered poker. Then an hour's interval of comparative silence would prevail, while the captain turned in again to take another nap; but, at length, up would go the window again—out would come the head—and, "John! hot wather!" would roll in awful reverberation throughout the entire neighbourhood.

The confusion and dismay produced by these alarms were terrific; and the neighbours all threatened their landlords to give warning on the next quarter. For it was not only in the morning that the noise prevailed, but throughout the entire day—aye, and the best part of the night also. Sometimes the captain would take it into his head to discharge his pistols in the yard: or else he would have a fencing-match with Frank Curtis, the weapons being pokers, which made a hideous clang. Then there were the rows in the nursery, which were truly awful; and, by way of a variety, Captain O'Blunderbuss would occasionally show himself at the drawing-room windows and vociferate the most appalling abuse at any suspicious characters whom he might happen to behold prowling about. These exhibitions frequently collected crowds in front of the house; and the captain would harangue them with as much earnestness as if he were a candidate at a general election. On one of these occasions the parish-beadle made his appearance, and from the pavement remonstrated with the gallant officer, who kept him in parlance until Frank Curtis had time to empty a pitcher of water over the enraged functionary from the front bed-room window.

But the worst part of the whole business consisted in the goings-on at night-time. Just when sedate and quiet people were getting cozily into their first sleep at about eleven o'clock, Mr. Frank Curtis was getting uncommonly drunk; and, though the captain seemed proof against the effects of alcohol, no matter in what quantity imbibed, he nevertheless grew trebly and quadruply uproarious when under the influence of poteen. Thus, from eleven to twelve the shouts of laughter—the yells of delight—the cries of mirth—and the vociferations of boisterous hilarity, which came from the front parlour, made night perfectly hideous: but no amount of human patience ever possessed by good and forgiving neighbours, could possibly tolerate the din and disturbance which prevailed during the "small hours." Then would the captain and his friend Curtis rush like mad-men into the yard, shouting—roaring—and bawling like demons, so that the residents in the adjacent houses leapt from their beds and threw up their windows in horror and alarm, expecting to find the whole street in a blaze. These performances on the part of Frank and O'Blunderbuss were intended to show the officers that they were upon the alert; and they not only had the desired effect, but accomplished far more—inasmuch as they produced an absolute panic throughout an entire neighbourhood.

Thus it was that Mr. Curtis's abode—lately so serene and quiet in the time of Mrs. Goldberry—became a perfect nuisance and a scandal; and had Bedlam in its very worst days been located there, the noise and alarm could not have been greater.

It will be remembered that the captain's plan, when first he took up his residence in Baker Street, was to get Mr. and Mrs. Curtis and the children away on a Sunday night, and sell off all the furniture on the Monday morning. But this scheme was postponed at first for one week—then for another, because the officers kept such a constant look-out, that the captain saw the necessity of standing the siege until the creditors should be completely wearied of paying those disagreeable spies to watch the premises. This determination was the more readily come to, inasmuch as the five hundred pounds obtained from Sir Christopher Blunt, supplied sinews to carry on the war in grand style.

When the captain paid the second financial visit to the worthy knight with a view to the effecting of a further loan on the assignat which himself and Frank Curtis had resolved to issue, it was not because money was scarce in Baker Street; but simply because the captain admired "the fun of the thing," and also considered it prudent to raise as ample a supply of bullion as possible. The rage which he experienced at his discomfiture on this occasion, can be better conceived than described; and, firmly believing that it was Sir Christopher himself who had dealt him from the carriage window the tremendous blow which sent him sprawling on the pavement in a most ignominious manner, he vowed the most deadly vengeance against the new Justice of the Peace. Picking himself up as well as he could—for the gallant gentleman was sorely bruised—he repaired to the nearest public-house, to "cool himself," as he said in his own mind, with a tumbler of the invariable poteen; and, having reflected upon the insult which he had received, he thought it best not to communicate his dishonour and discomfiture on his return to Baker Street. Accordingly, having returned to "the garrison," into which he effected an easy entry—for no one dared approach the door when it opened to give him egress or ingress—he assured Mr. and Mrs. Curtis that the knight was out of town, and would not be back for a week. However, in a couple of days, the wonderful adventures of Sir Christopher Blunt and Dr. Lascelles burst upon the metropolis like a tempest; and, as the morning newspapers were duly dropped down the area of the besieged dwelling in Baker Street, the entire report was read aloud by Frank Curtis at the breakfast table. It therefore being evident that Sir Christopher was not only in town at that moment, but was likewise in London when the captain had called upon him, the gallant gentleman affected to fly into a violent rage, swearing that the knight was denied to him on purpose, and vowing to make him "repint of his un-gintlemanly conduct." O'Blunderbuss did not, however, in his heart mean to do any such thing as call again in Jermyn Street; for he had despaired of inducing the knight, either by threatenings or coaxings, to advance a further supply; and, now that the worthy gentleman was a Justice of the Peace, the captain thought that it would be somewhat imprudent to visit him for the mere sake of committing an assault and battery. He accordingly invented divers excuses, day after day, for remaining in "the garrison;" and as funds were abundant, no one urged him to undertake another financial mission to Sir Christopher Blunt.

The reader must remember that Messrs. Mac Grab and Proggs were very roughly handled by captain O'Blunderbuss, when they visited the house in Baker Street for the purpose of arresting Mr. Frank Curtis; and, the honour of a sheriff's-officer being particularly dear to its possessor, those worthies considered their's to be at stake, unless they fully vindicated it by capturing the aforesaid Mr. Curtis in the long run. They therefore had recourse to all kinds of devices to obtain an entry into the house, being armed not only with a writ against that gentleman's person on behalf of Mr. Beeswing, but also with an execution against the furniture at the instigation of another of Mrs. Curtis's creditors.

The tricks practised by these worthies to obtain an entry into the besieged domicile, were as varied as they were ludicrous. On one occasion, Mr. Proggs, dressed for the nonce as a butcher, and carrying a leg of mutton in a tray on his shoulder, hurried up to the door, gave the loud, sharp, single knock peculiar to the trade, and shouted "T-cher!" in the most approved style. But the parlour window was thrown up, and out popped the head of the ferocious O'Blunderbuss, the countenance as red as a turkey-cock, and the mouth vomiting forth a torrent of abuse; so that the discomfited Mr. Proggs was compelled to retreat with all the ignominy of a baffled strategist. On another occasion, Mr. Mac Grab, attired as a general postman, rushed along the street, stopped at the door of the besieged house, gave the two clear, rapid strokes with the knocker, and immediately began to look over a bundle of letters with all the feverish haste of the functionary whose semblance he had assumed. But John came forth from the area; and again was the sheriff's-officer's object completely frustrated. Next day, however, two sweeps appeared in the street, as black as if they had never known soap-and-water, and were accustomed to lodge, eat, and sleep in chimneys as well as cleanse them; but upon arriving opposite the parlour-windows, they beheld the captain and Frank Curtis "taking sights" at them, the two gentlemen having "twigged the traps" without much difficulty. Thus, defeated in all their endeavours to accomplish their aims by cunning, Messrs. Mac Grab and Proggs worked themselves up to the desperate resolution of using force; and they accordingly took their post at the front-door of Curtis's house, with the apparent determination to rush in the first time it should be opened. But, when it was opened as far as the chain inside would permit, and they beheld, to their horror and dismay, the terrible captain wielding the poker, they exhibited that better part of valour which is denominated discretion. At last, however, they could no longer endure the jeerings of their friends exercising the same agreeable and lucrative profession; and moreover, the attorneys who employed them in the Baker Street affair spoke out pretty plainly about gentlemen bribing bailiffs not to execute writs, and so forth. All these circumstances induced Mr. Mac Grab and his man Proggs to hold a council of war over two four-penn'orths of rum-and-water; and the result was a determination, that as the various devices and stratagems they had practised to enter the dwelling had failed, and as they feared to carry it by storm, the stronghold must be reduced by a surprise.

It was on the very evening when the Blackamoor experienced so strange an adventure at Carlton House, that the following scene took place in Baker Street.

The clock had struck ten; and, supper being disposed of, the whiskey, hot water, glasses, and et ceteras were placed upon the table, at which Frank Curtis, his amiable wife, and Captain O'Blunderbuss were seated—as comfortable a trio as you could wish or expect to see, especially under such adverse circumstances.