The Choice Humorous Works, Ludicrous Adventures, Bons Mots, Puns, and Hoaxes of Theodore Hook

by Theodore Edward Hook

Sleep I did not—how was it to be expected?—some part of the night I was in consultation with Mrs. Scropps upon the different arrangements; settling about the girls, their places at the banquet, and their partners at the ball; the wind down the chimney sounded like the shouts of the people; the cocks crowing in the mews at the back of the house I took for trumpets sounding my approach; and the ordinary incidental noises in the family I fancied the popguns at Stangate, announcing my disembarkation at Westminster—thus I tossed and tumbled until the long wished-for day dawned, and I jumped up anxiously to realize the visions of the night. I was not long at my toilet—I was soon shaved and dressed—but just as I was settling myself comfortably into my beautiful brown broadcloth inexpressibles, crack went something, and I discovered that a seam had ripped half a foot long. Had it been consistent with the dignity of a Lord Mayor to swear, I should, I believe, at that moment, have anathematized the offending tailor;—as it was, what was to be done?—I heard trumpets in earnest, carriages drawing up and setting down; sheriffs and chaplains, mace bearers, train bearers, sword bearers, water bailiffs, remembrancers, Mr. Common Hunt, the town clerk, and the deputy town clerk, all bustling about—the bells ringing—and I late, with a hole in my inexpressibles! There was but one remedy—my wife's maid, kind, intelligent creature, civil and obliging, and ready to turn her hand to anything, came to my aid, and in less than fifteen minutes her activity, exerted in the midst of the confusion, repaired the injury, and turned me out fit to be seen by the whole corporation of London.

When I was dressed, I tapped at Mrs. Scropps's door, went in, and asked her if she thought I should do; the dear soul, after settling my point-lace frill (which she had been good enough to pick off her own petticoat on purpose) and putting my bag straight, gave me the sweetest salute imaginable.

"I wish your Lordship health and happiness," said she.

"Sally," said I, "your Ladyship is an angel;" and so, having kissed each of my daughters, who were in progress of dressing, I descended the stairs, to begin the auspicious day in which I reached the apex of my greatness. Never shall I forget the bows—the civilities—the congratulations—Sheriffs bending before me—the Recorder smiling—the Common Serjeant at my feet—the pageant was intoxicating; and when, after having breakfasted, I stepped into that glazed and gilded house upon wheels, called the stage coach, and saw my sword-bearer pop himself into one of the boots, with the sword of state in his hands, I was lost in ecstasy. I threw myself back upon the seat of the vehicle, with all possible dignity, but not without damage; for, in my efforts at ease and elegance, I snapped off the cut steel hilt of my own rapier, by accidentally bumping the whole weight of my body right, or rather wrong, directly upon the top of it.

But what was a sword hilt and a bruise to me—pride knows no pain—I felt none—I was the Lord Mayor, the greatest man in the greatest city of the greatest nation in the world. The people realised my expectation; and "Bravo! Scropps," and "Scropps for ever!" resounded again and again, as we proceeded slowly and majestically towards the river, through a fog which prevented our being advantageously seen, and which got down the throat of the sword-bearer, who was a little troubled with asthma, and who coughed incessantly during our progress, much to my annoyance, not to speak of the ungraceful movements which his convulsive barkings gave to the red velvet scabbard of the honourable glaive, as it stuck out of the coach window.

We embarked in my barge. A new scene of splendour here awaited me: guns, flags, banners, in short, every thing that taste and fancy could suggest, or a water-bailiff provide, were awaiting me. In the gilded bark was a cold collation. I ate, or tried to eat, but I tasted nothing. Fowls, pâtees, game, beef, ham—all had the same flavour; champagne, hock, and Madeira, were all alike to me. "Lord Mayor" was all I saw, all I heard, all I swallowed; every thing was pervaded and absorbed by the one captivating word; and the repeated appeals to "My Lordship" were sweeter than nectar.

Well, sir, at Westminster I was presented and received; and what do you think I then did—I, John Ebenezer Scropps, of Coventry?—I desired the Recorder to invite the Judges to dine with me at the Guildhall!—I, who remember when two of the oldest and most innocent of the twelve came the circuit, trembling at the very sight of them, and believing them some extraordinary creatures, upon whom all the hair and fur, that I saw, grew naturally; I not only asked these formidable beings to dine with me, but, as if I thought it beneath my dignity to do so in my own proper person, actually deputed a judge of my own to do it for me. I never shall forget their lordships' bows in return; mandarins on a mantelpiece are fools to them.

Then came the return. We re-embarked; and then, in reality, did I hear the guns at Stangate saluting me. I stood it like a man, although I have always a fear of accidents from the wadding. The tide was with us; we soon reached Blackfriars' Bridge; we landed once more in the sphere of my greatness. At the corner of Fleet Street was the Lady Mayoress, waiting for the procession; there she was, Sally Scropps—my own Sally—(her maiden name was Snob,)—with a plume of feathers that half filled the coach, and young Sally, and Jenny, and Maria, all crammed in the front seat, with their backs to my horses, which were pawing the mud, and snorting, and smoking like steam-engines, with nostrils like safety-valves; not to speak of four of my footmen hanging behind the carriage, like bees in a swarm. There had not been so much riband in my family since my poor father's failure at Coventry; and yet, how often, over and over again, although the poor old man had been dead more than twenty years, did I during that morning, in the midst of my splendour, think of him, and wish to my heart that he could see me in my greatness. Even in the midst of my triumph, I seemed to defer to my good kind parent—in heaven, as I hope and trust—as if I were anxious for his judgment, and his opinion, as to how I should perform the manifold arduous duties of the day.

Up Ludgate Hill we went—the fog grew thicker and thicker—but then the beautiful women at the windows—those high up could only just see my knees, and the paste buckles in my shoes. This I regretted; but every now and then I bowed condescendingly to the people, in order to show my courtesy, and my chain and collar, which I had discovered during the morning shone the brighter for being shaken. But else I maintained a proper dignity throughout my progress; and, although I said an occasional word or two to my chaplain, and smiled occasionally at Mr. Water-bailiff, I took no more notice of Mr. Sword and Mr. Mace, than I should have taken of Gog and Magog.

At length we reached Guildhall. As I crossed that beautiful building, lighted brilliantly, and filled with splendidly dressed company, and heard the deafening shouts which pealed through its roof as I entered it, I felt a good deal flurried. I retired to a private room, adjusted my dress, shook out my frill, rubbed up my chain and collar, and prepared to receive my guests. They came, and shall I ever forget it? Dinner was announced; the bands played "Oh! the roast beef of Old England." Onwards we went. A prince of the blood—of the blood royal of my own country—led out Sally—my own Sally—the Lady Mayoress; the Lord Chancellor handed out young Sally—I saw it done—I thought I should have fainted; the Prime Minister took Maria; the Lord Privy Seal gave his arm to Jenny; and Mrs. Snob, my wife's mother—a wonderful woman at her age, bating her corpulency—was escorted to table by the Right Honourable the Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, in his full robes and collar of SS. Oh, if my poor father could have but seen that!