No mirth in this world ever surpassed the fascination of these early mountebankeries. We have seen austere judges, venerable prelates, grand lords, and superfine ladies, all alike overwhelmed and convulsed as he went over the minutest details of such an episode as that, for example, of his and Mathews, as they were rowing to Richmond, being suddenly bitten by the sight of a placard at the foot of a Barnes garden,—"Nobody permitted to land here—offenders prosecuted with the utmost rigour of law"—their instant disembarkation on the forbidden paradise—the fishing-line converted into a surveyor's measuring-tape—their solemn pacing to and fro on the beautiful lawn—Hook the surveyor, with his book and pencil in hand—Mathews the clerk, with the cord and walking-stick, both soon pinned into the exquisite turf—the opening of the parlour-window, and fiery approach of the napkined alderman—the comedians' cool, indifferent reception of him, and his indignant inquiries—the gradual announcement of their being the agents of the Canal Company, settling where the new cut is to cross the old gentleman's pleasaunce—his alarm and horror, which call forth the unaffected regrets and commiserations of the unfortunate officials, "who are never more pained than with such a duty"—the alderman's suggestion that they had better walk in and talk the matter over—their anxious examination of watches, and reluctant admission that they might spare a quarter of an hour—"but alas! no use, they fear, none whatever"—the entry of the dining-room—the turkey just served—the pressing invitation to taste a morsel—the excellent dinner—the fine old madeira—the bottle of pink champagne, "a present from my lord mayor"—the discussion of half-a-dozen of claret and of the projected branch of the canal—the city knight's arguments getting more and more weighty—"Really this business must be reconsidered"—"One bottle more, dear gentlemen"—till at last it is getting dark—they are eight miles from Westminster Bridge—Hook bursts out into song, and narrates in extempore verse the whole transaction, winding up with—
"And we greatly approve of your fare,
Your cellar's as prime as your cook;
And this clerk here is Mathews the player,
And I'm—Mr. Theodore Hook."—(Exeunt.)[76]
A STRANGE DINNER.
Of Hook's pursuits at the Mauritius, few particulars, save those given in the letter to Mathews, have reached us: they were probably not far dissimilar in spirit from those in which he had indulged at home; at least, an anecdote or two corroborative of the "solum non animum mutant," etc., which we have heard him relate, would lead to such an inference. One of these bore reference to the reception with which a respectable family, that had been recommended to his notice by some common friend in England, was greeted on its arrival at the island. Hook was, of course, all kindness and hospitality—an invitation to La Réduite, a country retreat belonging to the Governor, and at which the Treasurer also occasionally resided, was immediately forwarded to the strangers. Equally, as a matter of course, their agreeable host took upon himself the task of "lionizing" the neighbourhood; and more especially of pointing out to their observation the beauties, architectural and otherwise, of Port Louis.
For this purpose, the morning following that of debarcation was selected. The town at that period, and it has received but few additions since, was of moderate extent, stretching something in the shape of an amphitheatre almost three miles along the coast, and bounded inland at a distance scarcely exceeding half a mile, by an open space called the "Champ de Mars." Along this narrow slip, the streets of which are straight and laid out at right angles after the French fashion, did Mr. Hook conduct his new acquaintances; up one lane, down another, along the Rue Marengo, by the Government House, backwards and forwards, right and left, till every building of the least pretensions to importance had been visited by every possible mode of approach, and on each occasion honoured with a different name and fresh history. The Joss House was multiplied by six; the old East India Company barracks did duty for public asylums for lunatics, or private residences of the Queen of Madagascar; churches, prisons, the Royal College and theatre, were examined again and again, and so on till the miserable party, completely fatigued with the extreme heat, and seeing no symptoms of a termination to the walk, pleaded inability to proceed. One ventured to observe, that though of a much greater size than the view from the harbour would have led him to suppose, the town exhibited a singular sameness of style in the principal edifices. "A natural thing enough in an infant colony," suggested Hook.