Part 59 (1/2)
Ascot Races
A Real Swell Party 386
Bull and Mouth Inn 434
REAL LIFE IN LONDON
CHAPTER I
With what unequal tempers are we form'd!
One day the soul, elate and satisfied, Revels secure, and fondly tells herself The hour of evil can return no more: The next, the spirit, pall'd and sick of riot, Turns all to discord, and we hate our being, Curse our past joys, and think them folly all.
~1~~MATTER and motion, say Philosophers, are inseparable, and the doctrine appears equally applicable to the human mind. Our country Squire, anxious to testify a grateful sense of the attentions paid him during his London visit, had a.s.siduously exerted himself since his return, in contributing to the pleasures and amus.e.m.e.nts of his visitors; and Belville Hall presented a scene of festive hospitality, at once creditable to its liberal owner, and gratifying to the numerous gentry of the surrounding neighbourhood.
But however varied and numerous the sports and recreations of rural life, however refined and select the circle of its society, they possessed not the endless round of metropolitan amus.e.m.e.nt, nor those ever-varying delights produced amid ”the busy hum of men,” where every street is replete with incident and character, and every hour fraught with adventure.
Satiety had now evidently obtruded itself amid the party, and its attendants, la.s.situde and restlessness, were not long in bringing up the rear. The impression already made upon the mind of Bob by the cursory view he had taken of Life in London was indelible, and it required little persuasion on the part of his cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall, to induce him again to return to scenes of so much delight, and which afforded such inexhaustible stores of amus.e.m.e.nt to an ardent and youthful curiosity.
~2~~A return to the Metropolis having therefore been mutually agreed upon, and every previous arrangement being completed, the Squire once more abdicated for a season his paternal domains, and accompanied by his cousin Dashall, and the whole _ci-devant_ party of Belville Hall, arrived safe at the elegant mansion of the latter, where they planned a new system of perambulation, having for its object a further investigation of manners, characters, objects, and incidents, connected with _Real Life in London_.
”Come,” cried Dashall, one fine morning, starting up immediately after breakfast--
”----rouse for fresh game, and away let us haste, The regions to roam of wit, fas.h.i.+on, and taste; Like Quixote in quest of adventures set out, And learn what the crowds in the streets are about; And laugh when we must, and approve when we can, Where London displays ev'ry feature of man.”
”The numerous hotels, bagnios, taverns, inns, coffee-houses, eating-houses, lodging-houses, &c. in endless variety, which meet the eye in all parts of the metropolis, afford an immediate choice of accommodation, as well to the temporary sojourner as the permanent resident; where may be obtained the necessaries and luxuries of life, commensurate with your means of payment, from one s.h.i.+lling to a guinea for a dinner, and from sixpence to thirty s.h.i.+llings a night for a lodging!
”The stranger recommended to one of these hotels, who regales himself after the fatigues of a journey with moderate refreshment, and retires to rest, and preparing to depart in the morning, is frequently surprised at the longitudinal appearance and sum total of his bill, wherein every item is individually stated, and at a rate enormously extravagant.
Remonstrance is unavailable; the charges are those common to the house, and in failure of payment your luggage is under detention, without the means of redress; ultimately the bill must be paid, and the only consolation left is, that you have acquired a useful, though expensive lesson, how to guard in future against similar exaction and inconvenience.”{1}
1 Marlborough Street.--Yesterday, Mrs. Hickinbottom, the wife of Mr. Hickinbottom, the keeper of the St. Petersburgh Hotel in Dover Street, Piccadilly, appeared to a summons to answer the complaint of a gentleman for unlawfully detaining his luggage under the following circ.u.mstances: The complainant stated, that on Thursday evening last, on his arrival in town from Aberdeen, he went to the White Horse Cellar, Piccadilly; but the house being full, he was recommended to the St. Petersburgh Hotel in Dover Street; where, having taken some refreshment and wrote a letter, he went to bed, and on the following morning after break-fast, he desired the waiter to bring him his bill, which he did, and the first item that presented itself was the moderate charge of one pound ten s.h.i.+llings for his bed; and then followed, amongst many others, sixpence for a pen, a s.h.i.+lling for wax, a s.h.i.+lling for the light, and two and sixpence for other lights; so that the bill amounted in the whole to the sum of two pounds one s.h.i.+lling for his night's lodging! To this very exorbitant charge he had refused to submit; in consequence of which he had been put to great inconvenience by the detention of his luggage. The magistrate animadverted with much severity on such extravagant charges on the part of the tavern-keeper, and advised that upon the gentleman paying fifteen s.h.i.+llings, the things might be immediately delivered up. To these terms, however, Mrs. Hickinbottom refused to accede, adding at the same time, that the gentleman had only been charged the regular prices of the house, and that she should insist upon the whole amount of the bill being paid, for that the persons who were in the habit of coming to their house never objected to such, the regular price of their lodgings being ten guineas per week! The magistrate lamented that he had no power to enforce the things being given up, but he recommended the complainant to bring an action against the tavern-keeper for the detention.
~3~~ These were the observations directed by Dashall to his friend, as they pa.s.sed, one morning, the _Hotel de la Sabloniere_ in Leicester Square.
”Doubtless,” he continued, ”in those places of affluent resort, the accommodations are in the first style of excellence; yet with reference to comfort and sociability, were I a country gentleman in the habit of occasionally visiting London, my temporary domicile should be the snug domesticated Coffee-house, economical in its charges and pleasurable in the variety of its visitors, where I might, at will, extend or abridge my evening intercourse, and in the retirement of my own apartment feel myself more at home than in the vacuum of an hotel.”
The attention of our perambulators, in pa.s.sing through the Square, was attracted by a fine boy, apparently about eight years of age, dressed in mourning, who, at the door of Brunet's Hotel, was endeavouring with all his little strength and influence to oppose the egress of a large Newfoundland dog, that, indignant of restraint, seemed desirous in a strange land of introducing himself to ~4~~ canine good fellows.h.i.+p. The boy, whose large dark eyes were full of animation, and his countenance, though bronzed, interestingly expressive, remonstrated with the dog in the French language. ”The animal does not understand you,” exclaimed Tallyho, in the vernacular idiom of the youth, ”Speak to him in English.” ”He must be a clever dog,” answered the boy, ”to know English so soon, for neither him nor I have been in England above a week, and for the first time in our lives.”--”And how is it,” asked Tallyho, ”that you speak the English language so fluently?” ”O,” said the little fellow, ”my mother taught it me; she is an English woman, and for that reason I love the English, and am much fonder of talking their language than my own.” There was something extremely captivating in the boy. The dog now struggling for freedom was nearly effecting his release, when the two friends interposed their a.s.sistance, and secured the pre-meditating fugitive at the moment when, to inquire the cause of the bustle, the father of the child made his appearance in the person of Field Marshal Count Bertrand. The Count, possessing all the characteristics of a gentleman, acknowledged politely the kind attention of the strangers to his son, while, on the other hand, they returned his obeisance with the due respect excited by his uniform friends.h.i.+p and undeviating attachment to greatness in adversity. The discerning eye of Field Marshal Bertrand justly appreciated the superior rank of the strangers, to whom he observed, that during the short period he had then been in England, he had experienced much courtesy, of which he should always retain a grateful recollection. This accidental interview was creative of reciprocal satisfaction, and the parties separated, not without an invitation on the part of the boy, that his newly found acquaintances would again visit the ”friends of the Emperor.”{1}~5~~
1 LINES SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY THE EX-EMPEROR NAPOLEON IN HIS LAST ILLNESS.
Too slowly the tide of existence recedes For him in captivity destined to languish, The Exile, abandon'd of fortune, who needs The friends.h.i.+p of Death to obliviate his anguish.
Yet, even his last moments unmet by a sigh, Napoleon the Great uncomplaining shall die!
Though doom'd on thy rock, St. Helena, to close My life, that once presag'd ineffable glory, Unvisited here though my ashes repose, No tablet to tell the lone Exile's sad story,-- Napoleon Buonaparte--still shall the name Exist on the records immortal of Fame!
Posterity, tracing the annals of France, The merits will own of her potent defender; Her greatness pre-eminent skill'd to advance, Creating, sustaining, her zenith of splendour; Who patroniz'd arts, and averted alarms, Till crush'd by the union of nations in arms!
I yield to my fate! nor should memory bring One moment of fruitless and painful reflection Of what I was lately--an Emperor and King, Unless for the bitter, yet fond recollection Of those, who my heart's best endearments have won, Remote from my death-bed--my Consort and SON!