The English Spy Part 40

TEDDY O'RAFFERTY'S LAST APPEARANCE.

A SCENE IN THE HOLY LAND.

~22~~

'Twas at Teddy O'Rafferty's wake, Just to comfort ould Judy, his wife, The lads of the hod had a frake.

And kept the thing up to the life.

There was Father O'Donahoo, Mr. Delany, Pat Murphy the doctor, that rebel O'Shaney, Young Terence, a nate little knight o' the hod, And that great dust O'Sullivan just out o' quod; Then Florence the piper, no music is riper, To all the sweet cratures with emerald fatures Who came to drink health to the dead.

Not Bryan Baroo had a louder shaloo When he gave up his breath, to that tythe hunter death, Than the howl over Teddy's cowld head: 'Twas enough to have rais'd up a saint.

All the darlings with whiskey so faint, And the lads full of fight, had a glorious night, When ould Teddy was wak'd in his shed.

--Original.

He who has not travelled in Ireland should never presume to offer an opinion upon its natives. It is not from the wealthy absentees, who since the union have abandoned their countrymen to wretchedness, for the advancement of their own ambitious views, that we can form a judgment of the exalted Irish: nor is it from the lowly race, who driven forth by starving penury, crowd our more prosperous sh.o.r.es, ~23~~that we can justly estimate the true character of the peasantry of that unhappy country. The Memoirs of Captain Rock may have done something towards removing the national prejudices of Englishmen; while the frequent and continued agitation of that important question, the Emanc.i.p.ation of the Catholics, has roused a spirit of inquiry in every worthy bosom that will much advantage the oppressed, and, eventually, diffuse a more general and generous feeling towards the Irish throughout civilized Europe. I have been led into this strain of contemplation, by observing the ridiculous folly and wasteful expenditure of the n.o.bility and fas.h.i.+onables of Great Britain; who, neglecting their starving tenantry and kindred friends, crowd to the sh.o.r.es of France and Italy in search of scenery and variety, without having the slightest knowledge of the romantic beauties and delightful landscapes, which abound in the three kingdoms of the Rose, the Shamrock, and the Thistle. How much good might be done by the examples of a few ill.u.s.trious, n.o.ble, and wealthy individuals, making annual visits to Ireland and Scotland! what a field does it afford for true enjoyment! how superior, in most instances, the accommodations and security; and how little, if at all inferior, to the scenic attractions of foreign countries. Then too the gratification of observing the progress of improvement in the lower cla.s.ses, of administering to their wants, and consoling with them under their patient sufferings from oppressive laws, rendered perhaps painfully necessary by the political temperature of the times or the unforgiving suspicions of the past. But I am becoming sentimental when I ought to be humorous, contemplative when I should be characteristic, and seriously sententious when I ought to be playfully satirical. Forgive me, gentle reader, if from the collapse of the spirit, I have for a moment turned aside from the natural gaiety of my ~24~~style, to give utterance to the warm feelings of an eccentric but generous heart. But, _allons_ to the wake.

"Plaze ye'r honor," said Barney O'Finn (my groom of the chambers), "may I be _axing_ a holiday to-night?" "It will be very inconvenient, Barney; but------" "But, your honor's not the jontleman to refuse a small trate o' the sort," said Barney, antic.i.p.ating the conclusion of my objection.

There was some thing unusually anxious about the style of the poor fellow's request that made me hesitate in the refusal. "It's not myself that would be craving the favor, but a poor dead cousin o' mine, heaven rest his sowl!" "And how can the granting of such a request benefit your departed relation, Barney?" quoth I, not a little puzzled by the strangeness of the application. "Sure, that's mighty _dare_ of comprehension, your honor. Teddy O'Rafferty was my own mother's brother's son, and devil o' like o' him there was in all Kilgobbin: we went to ould Father O'Rourke's school together when we were spalpeens, and ate our _paraters_ and b.u.t.ter-milk out o' the same platter; many's the sc.r.a.pe we've been in together: bad luck to the ould schoolmaster, for he flogged all the _larning_ out o' poor Teddy, and all the liking for't out of Barney O'Finn, that's myself, your honor--so one dark night we took advantage of the moon, and having joined partners.h.i.+p in property put it all into a Limerick silk handkerchief, with which we made the best of our way to Dublin, travelling stage arter stage by the ould-fas.h.i.+oned conveyance, Pat Adam's ten-toed machine. Many's the drap we got on the road to drive away care. All the wide world before us, and all the fine family estate behind,--pigs, poultry, and relations,--divil a tenpenny did we ever touch since. It's not your honor that will be angry to hear a few family misfortins," said Barney, hesitating to proceed with his narration, "Give me my hat, fellow," said ~25~~I, "and don't torture me with your nonsense."-- "May be it an't nonsense your honor means?" "And why not, sirrah?"--"Bekase it's not in your nature to spake light o' the dead." Up to this point, my attention had been divided between the Morning Chronicle which lay upon my breakfast table, and Barney's comical relation; a glance at the narrator, however, as he finished the last sentence, convinced me that I ought to have treated him with more feeling. He was holding my hat towards me, when the pearly drop of affliction burst uncontrollably forth, and hung on the side of the beaver, like a sparkling crystal gem loosed from the cavern's roof, to rest upon the jasper stone beneath. I would have given up my Masters.h.i.+p of Arts to have recalled that word nonsense: I was so touched with the poor fellow's pathos.--" Shall I tell your onor the _partikilars_?" "Ay, do, Barney, proceed."--"Well, your onor, we worked our way to London togither--haymaking and harvesting: 'Taste fas.h.i.+ons the man' was a saw of ould Father O'Rourke's; 'though divil a taste had he, but for draining the whiskey bottle and bating the boys, bad luck to his mimory! 'Is it yourself?' said I, to young squire O'Sullivan, from Scullanabogue, whom good fortune threw in my way the very first day I was in London.--'Troth, and it is, Barney,' said he: 'What brings you to the sate of government?' 'I'm seeking sarvice and fortune, your onor,'

said I. 'Come your ways, then, my darling,' said he; and, without more to do, he made me his _loc.u.m tenens_, first clerk, messenger, and man of all work to a Maynooth Milesian. There was onor enough in all conscience for me, only it was not vary profitable. For, altho' my master followed the law, the law wouldn't follow him, and he'd rather more bags than briefs:--the consequence was, I had more banyan days than the man in the wilderness. Divil a'care, I got a character by my conduct, and a good place when I left him, as your ~26~~govonor can testify. As for poor Teddy, divil a partikle of taste had he for fas.h.i.+onable life, but a mighty pratty notion of the arts, so he turned operative arkitekt; engaged himself to a layer of bricks, and skipped nimbly up and down a five story ladder with a long-tailed box upon his shoulder--pace be to his ashes! He was rather too fond of the _crature_--many's the slip he had for his life--one minute breaking a jest, and the next breaking a joint; till there wasn't a sound limb to his body. Arrah, sure, it was all the same to Teddy--only last Monday, he was more elevated than usual, for he had just reached the top of the steeple of one of the new churches with a three gallon can of beer upon his _knowledge-box_, and, perhaps a little too much of the _crature_ inside o! it. 'Shout, Teddy, to the honour of the saint,' said the foreman of the works (for they had just completed the job). Poor Teddy's religion got the better of his understanding, for in shouting long life to the dedicatory saint, he lost his own--missed his footing, and pitched over the scaffold like an odd chimney-pot in a high wind, and came down smash to the bottom with a head as flat as a b.u.mp. Divil a word has he ever spake since; for when they picked him up, he was dead as a Dublin bay herring--and now he lies in his cabin in Dyot-street, St. Giles, as stiff as a poker,--and to-night, your onor, we are going to _wake_ him, poor sowl! to smoke a pipe, and spake an _horashon_ over his corpse before we put him dacently to bed with the shovel. Then, there's his poor widow left childless, and divil a rap to buy paraters wid--bad luck to the eye that wouldn't drap a tear to his mimory, and cowld be the heart that refuses to comfort his widow!" Here poor Barney could no longer restrain his feelings, and having concluded the family history, blubbered outright. It was a strange mixture of the ludicrous and the sorrowful; but told with such an artless simplicity and genuine traits of feeling, that I would have defied the most ~27~~volatile to have felt uninterested with the speaker. "You shall go, by all means, Barney," said I: "and here is a trifle to comfort the poor widow with." "The blessings of the whole calendar full on your onor!" responded the grateful Irishman. What a scene, thought I, for the pencil of my friend Bob Transit!"Could a stranger visit the place," I inquired, without molestation or the charge of impertinence, Barney?" "Divil a charge, your onor; and as to impertinence, a wake's like a house-warming, where every guest is welcome." With this a.s.surance, I apprised Barney of my intention to gratify curiosity, and to bring a friend with me; carefully noted down the direction, and left the grateful fellow to pursue his course.

The absurdities of funeral ceremonies have hitherto triumphed over the advances of civilization, and in many countries are still continued with almost as much affected solemnity and ridiculous parade as distinguished the early processions of the Pagans, Heathens, and Druids. The honours bestowed upon the dead may inculcate a good moral lesson upon the minds of the living, and teach them so to act in this life that their cold remains may deserve the after-exordium of their friends; but, in most instances, funeral pomp has more of worldly vanity in it than true respect, and it is no unusual circ.u.mstance in the meaner ranks of life, for the survivors to abridge their own comforts by a wasteful expenditure and useless parade, with which they think to honour the memory of the dead. The Egyptians carry this folly perhaps to the most absurd degree; their catacombs and splendid tombs far outrivalling the habitations of their princes, together with their expensive mode of embalming, are with us matters of curiosity, and often induce a sacrilegious transfer of some distinguished mummy to the museums of the connoisseur. The Athenians, Greeks, and Romans, had each their peculiar funeral ceremonies in the exhumation, ~28~~sacrifices, and orations performed on such occasions; and much of the present customs of the Romish church are, no doubt, derivable from and to be traced to these last-mentioned nations. In the present times, no race of people are more superst.i.tious in their veneration for the ancient customs of their country and funeral rites, than the lower orders of the Irish, and that folly is often carried to a greater height during their domicile in this country than when residing at home.

It was about nine o'clock at night when Eglantine, Transit, and myself sallied forth to St. Giles's in search of the wake, or, as Bob called it, on a crusade to the holy land. Formerly, such a visit would have been attended with great danger to the parties making the attempt, from the number of desperate characters who inhabited the back-slums lying in the rear of Broad-street: where used to be congregated together, the most notorious thieves, beggars, and bunters of the metropolis, amalgamated with the poverty and wretchedness of every country, but more particularly the lower cla.s.ses of Irish, who still continue to exist in great numbers in the neighbourhood. Here was formerly held in a night-cellar, the celebrated Beggars' Club, at which the dissolute Lord Barrymore and Colonel George Hanger, afterwards Lord Coleraine, are said to have often officiated as president and vice-president, attended by their profligate companions, and surrounded by the most extraordinary characters of the times; the portraits and biography of whom may be seen in Smith's 'Vagabondiana,' a very clever and highly entertaining work.

It was on this spot that George Parker collected his materials for 'Life's Painter of Variegated Characters,' and among its varieties, that Grose and others obtained the flash and patter which form the cream of their humorous works. Formerly, the Beggars' ordinary, held in a cellar was a scene worthy ~29~~of the pencil of a Hogarth or a Cruikshank; notorious impostors, professional paupers, ballad-singers, and blind fiddlers might here be witnessed carousing on the profits of mistaken charity, and laughing in their cups at the credulity of mankind; but the police have now disturbed their nightly orgies, and the Mendicant Society ruined their lucrative calling. The long table, where the trenchers consisted of so many round holes turned out in the plank, and the knives, forks, spoons, candle-sticks, and fire-irons all chained to their separate places, is no longer to be seen. The night-cellar yet exists, where the wretched obtain a temporary lodging and straw bed at twopence per head; but the Augean stable has been cleansed of much of its former impurities, and scarce a vestige remains of the disgusting depravity of former times.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page029]

A little way up Dyot-street, on the right hand from Holborn, we perceived the gateway to which Barney had directed me, and pa.s.sing under it into a court filled with tottering tenements of the most wretched appearance, we were soon attracted to the spot we sought, by the clamour of voices apparently singing and vociferating together. The faithful Barney was ready posted at the door to receive us, and had evidently prepared the company to show more than usual respect. An old building or shed adjoining the deceased's residence, which had been used for a carpenter's shop, was converted for the occasion from its general purpose to a melancholy hall of mourning. At one end of this place was the corpse of the deceased, visible to every person from its being placed on a bed in a sitting posture, beneath a tester of ragged check-furniture; large sheets of white linen were spread around the walls in lieu of tapestries, and covered with various devices wrought into fantastic images of flowers, angels, and seraphim. A large, fresh-gathered posy in the bosom of the deceased had a most striking effect, when contrasted ~30~~with the pallidness of death; over the lower parts of the corpse was spread a counterpane, covered with roses, marigolds, and sweet-smelling flowers; whilst on his breast reposed the cross, emblematical of the dead man's faith; and on a table opposite, at the extreme end, stood an image of our Redeemer, before which burned four tall lights in ma.s.sive candlesticks, lent by the priest upon such occasions to give additional solemnity to the scene. There is something very awful in the contemplation of death, from which not even the strongest mind can altogether divest itself. But at a _wake_ the solemn gloom which generally pervades the chamber of a lifeless corpse is partially removed by the appearance of the friends of the deceased arranged around, drinking, singing, and smoking tobacco in profusion.

Still there was something unusually impressive in observing the poor widow of O'Rafferty, seated at the feet of her deceased lord with an infant in her arms, and all the appearance of a heart heavily charged with despondency and grief. An old Irishwoman, seated at the side of the bed, was making the most violent gesticulations, and audibly calling upon the spirit of the departed "to see how they onor'd his mimory,"

raising the cross before her, while two or three others came up to the head, uttered a short prayer, and then sat down to drink his sowl out of purgation. (See Plate.)

[Ill.u.s.tration: page030]

But the most extraordinary part of the ceremony was the _howl_, or oration spoken over the dead man by a rough-looking, broad-shouldered Emeralder, who descanted upon his virtues as if he had been an hero of the first magnitude, and invoked every saint in the calendar to free the departed from perdition. For some time decorum was pretty well preserved; but on my friends Bob Transit and Horace Eglantine sending Barney out for a whole gallon of whiskey, and a proportionate quant.i.ty of pipes and tobacco, the dull scene of silent meditation ~31~~gave way to sports and spree, more accordant with their feelings; and the kindred of the deceased were too familiar with such amus.e.m.e.nts to consider them in any degree disrespectful. There is a volatile something in the Irish character that strongly partakes of the frivolity of our Gallic neighbours; and it is from this feature that we often find them gay amidst the most appalling wants, and humorous even in the sight of cold mortality. A song was soon proposed, and many a ludicrous stave sung, as the inspiring cup made the circle of the company. "Luke Caffary's Kilmainham Minit," an old flash chant, and "The Night before Larry was stretched," were among the most favourite ditties of the night. A verse from the last may serve to show their _peculiar_ character.

"The night before Larry was stretch'd,

The boys they all paid him a visit; And bit in their sacks too they fetch'd,

They sweated their duds till they riz it.

For Larry was always the lad,

When a friend was condemn'd to the squeezer.

But he'd fence all the foss that he had

To help a poor friend to a sneezer, And moisten his sowl before he died."

Ere eleven o'clock had arrived, the copious potations of whiskey and strong beer, joined to the fumes of the tobacco, had caused a powerful alteration in the demeanor of the a.s.sembled group, who now became most indecorously vociferous. "By the powers of Poll Kelly!" said the raw-boned fellow who had howled the lament over the corpse, "I'd be arter making love to the widow mysel', only it mightn't be altogether dacent before Teddy's put out o' the way." "You make love to the widow!"

responded the smart-looking Florence M'Carthy; "to the divil I pitch you, you bouncing bogtrotter! it's myself alone that will have that onor, bekase Teddy O'Rafferty wished me to take his wife as a legacy.

'It's all I've got, Mr. Florence,' ~32~~said he to me one day, 'to lave behind for the redemption of the small trifle I owe you.'" "It aint the like o' either of you that will be arter bamboozling my cousin, Mrs.

Judy O'Rafferty, into a blind bargain," said Barney O'Finn; in whose noddle the whiskey began to fumigate with the most valorous effect.

"You're a n.o.ble-spirited fellow, Barney," said Horace Eglantine, who was using his best exertions to produce a _row_. "At them again, Barney, and tell them their conduct is most indecent." Thus stimulated and prompted, Barney was not tardy in re-echoing the charge; which, as might have been expected, produced an instantaneous explosion and general battle. In two minutes the company were thrown into the most appalling scene of confusion--chairs and tables upset, bludgeons, pewter pots, pipes, gla.s.ses, and other missiles flying about in all directions, until broken heads and s.h.i.+ns were as plentiful as black eyes, and there was no lack of either--women screaming and children crying, making distress more horrible. In this state of affairs, Bob Transit had climbed up and perched himself upon a beam to make observations; while the original fomenter of the strife, that mad wag Eglantine, had with myself made our escape through an aperture into the next house, and having secured our persons from violence were enabled to become calm observers of the affray, by peeping through the breach by which we had entered. In the violence of the struggle, poor Teddy O'Rafferty was doomed to experience another upset before his remains were consigned to the tomb; for just at the moment that a posse of watchmen and night-constables arrived to put an end to the broil, such was the panic of the a.s.sailants that in rus.h.i.+ng towards the bed to conceal themselves from the _charlies_, they tumbled poor Teddy head over heels to the floor of his shed, leaving his head's antipodes sticking up where his head should have been; a ~33~~circ.u.mstance that more than any thing else contributed to appease the inflamed pa.s.sions of the group, who, shocked at the sacrilegious insult they had committed, immediately sounded a parley, and united to reinstate poor Teddy O'Rafferty in his former situation. This was the signal for Horace and myself to proceed round to the front door, and pretending we were strangers excited by curiosity, succeeded, by a little well-timed flattery and a small trifle to drink our good healths, in freeing the a.s.sailants from all the horrors of a watch-house, and eventually of restoring peace and unanimity. It was now past midnight; leaving therefore poor Barney O'Finn to attend ma.s.s, and pay the last sad tribute to his departed relative, on the morning of the morrow we once more bent our steps towards home, laughing as we went at the strange recollections of the wake, the row, and last appearance of Teddy O'Rafferty.{1}

REQUIESCAT IN PACE.

1 As the reader might not think this story complete without gome account of the concluding ceremonies, I have ascertained from Barney that his cousin Teddy was quietly borne on the shoulders of his friends to the church of St.

Paneras, where he was safely deposited with his mother- earth, a bit of a bull, by the by; and after the mourners had made three circles round his ashes, and finished the ceremony by a most delightful howl and prayers said over the crossed spades, they all retired peaceably home, moderately laden with the juice of the _crature_.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page033]

THE CYPRIAN'S BALL,

OR

Sketches of Characters

AT THE VENETIAN CARNIVAL.

Scene.--Argyll Rooms.

~34~~

"Hymen ushers the lady Astrea,

The jest took hold of Latona the cold, Ceres the brown, with bright Cytherea, Thetis the wanton, Bellona the bold; Shame-faced Aurora With witty Pandora, And Maia with Flora did company bear;"

(And many 'tis stated Went there to be mated, Who all their lives have been hunting the fair. )

Blackmantle, Transit, Eglantine, and Crony's Visit to the Venetian Carnival--Exhibits--Their Char-acters drawn from the Life--General Trinket, the M.C.--Crony's singidar Anecdote of the great Earl of Chesterfield, and Origin of the Debouchettes--The Omissions in the Wilson Memoirs supplied--Biographical Reminiscences of the Amiable Mrs.

Debouchette--Harriette and lier Sisters--Amy--Mary--f.a.n.n.y-- Julia--Sophia--Charlotte and Louisa--Paphians and their Paramours--Peers and Plebeians--The Bang Bantam--London Leda --Spanish Nun--Sparrow Hawk--Golden Pippin--White Crow-- Brazen Bellona--Edgeware Diana

~35~~

Water Lily--White Doe--Comic Muse--Queen of the Dansysettes--Vestina the t.i.tan--The Red Rose--Moss Rose and Cabbage Rose--The Doldrum Stars of Erin--Wren of Paradise-- Queen of the Amazons--Old Pomona--Venus Mendicant--Venus Callypiga--G.o.ddess of the Golden Locks--Mocking Bird--Net Perdita--Napoleon Venus--Red Swan--Black Swan--Blue-eyed Luna--Tartar Sultana The Bit of Rue--Brompton Ceres-- Celestina Conway--Lucy Bertram--Water Wagtail--Tops and Bottoms--The Pretenders--The Old Story--Lady of the Priory-- Little White Morose--Queen of Trumps--Giovanni the Syren, with Ileal Names "unexed--Original Portraits and Anecdotes of the Dukes of M------and D------, Marquisses II------ and II ----, Earls W------, F------, and C------, Lords P------, A------, M------, and N------, llonourables B------c, L------s, and F------s--General Trinket--Colonel Caxon--Messrs. II--b--h, R------, D------, and B------, and other Innumerables.

It was during the fas.h.i.+onable season of the year 1818, when Augusta Corri, _ci-devant_ Lady Hawke,{1} shone forth under her newly-acquired t.i.tle a planet of the first order, that a few amorous n.o.blemen and wealthy dissolutes, ever on the _qui vive_ for novelty, projected and sanctioned the celebrated Venetian carnival given at the Argyll-rooms under the patronage of her ladys.h.i.+p and four other equally celebrated courtezans. Of course, the female invitations were confined exclusively to the sisterhood, but restricted to the planets and stars of Cytherea, the carriage curiosities, and fair impures of the most das.h.i.+ng order and notoriety; and never were the revels of Terpsich.o.r.e kept up with more spirit, or graced with a more choice collection of beautiful, ripe, and wanton fair ones.

1 In page 315 of our first volume we have given a brief biographical sketch of her ladys.h.i.+p and her amours.

~36~~Nor was there any lack of distinguished personages of the other s.e.x; almost all the leading _roues_ of the day being present, from Lord p******** Tom B***, including many of the highest note in the peerage, court calendar, and army list. The elegance and superior arrangement of this Cytherean _fete_ was in the most exquisite taste; and such was the number of applications for admissions, and the reported splendour of the preparations, that great influence in a certain court was necessary to insure a safe pa.s.sport into the territories of the Paphian G.o.ddess. The enormous expense of this act of folly has been estimated at upwards of two thousand pounds; and many are the dupes who have been named as bearing proportions of the same, from a royal duke to a Hebrew star of some magnitude in the city; but truth will out, and the ingenuity of her ladys.h.i.+p in raising the wind has never been disputed, if it has ever been equalled, by any of her fair a.s.sociates. The honour of the arrangement and a good portion of the expense were, undoubtedly, borne by a broad-shouldered Milesian commissary-general, who has since figured among the ton under the quaint cognomen of General Trinket, from his penchant for filling his pockets with a variety of cheap baubles, for the purpose of making presents to his numerous Dulcineas; a trifling extravagance, which joined to his attachment to _rouge et noir_ has since consigned him to durance vile. The general is, however, certainly a fellow of some address, and, as a master of the ceremonies, deserves due credit for the superior genius he on that occasion displayed.

During dinner, Crony had been telling us a curious anecdote of the great Earl of Chesterfield and Miss Debouchette, the grandmother of the celebrated courtezans, Harriette Wilson and sisters. "At one of the places of public entertainment at the Hague, a very beautiful girl of the name of Debouchette, who ~37~~acted as _limonadiere_, had attracted the notice of a party of English n.o.blemen, who were all equally anxious to obtain so fair a prize. Intreaties, promises of large settlements, and every species of lure that the intriguers could invent, had been attempted and played off without the slightest success; the fair _limonadiere_ was proof against all their arts. In this state of affairs arrived the then elegant and accomplished Earl of Chesterfield, certainly one of the most attractive and finished men of his time, but, without doubt, equally dissipated, and notorious for the number of his amours. Whenever a charming girl in the humbler walks of life becomes the star of n.o.ble attraction and the reigning toast among the _roues_ of the day, her destruction may be considered almost inevitable. The amorous beaux naturally inflame the ardour of each other's desires by their admiration of the general object of excitement; until the honour of possessing such a treasure becomes a matter of heroism, a prize for which the young and gay will perform the most unaccountable prodigies, and, like the chivalrous knights of old, sacrifice health, fortune, and eventually life, to bear away in triumph the fair conqueror of hearts. Such was the situation of Miss Debouchette, when the Earl of Chesterfield, whose pa.s.sions had been unusually inflamed by the current reports of the lady's beauty, found himself upon inspection that her attractions were irresistible, but that it would require no unusual skill to break down and conquer the prudence and good sense with which superior education had guarded the mind of the fair _limonadiere_. To a man of gallantry, obstacles of the most imposing import are mere chimeras, and readily fall before the ardour of his impetuosity; 'faint heart never won fair lady,' is an ancient but trite proverb, that always encourages the devotee. The earl had made a large bet that he would carry off the lady. In ~38~~England, among the retiring and the most modest of creation's lovely daughters, his success in intrigues had become proverbial; yet, for a long time, was he completely foiled by the fair Debouchette. No specious pretences, nor the flattering attentions of the most polished man in Europe, could induce the lady to depart from the paths of prudence and of virtue; every artifice to lure her into the snare of the seducer had been tried and found ineffectual, and his lords.h.i.+p was about to retire discomfited and disgraced from the scene of his amorous follies, with a loss of some thousands, the result of his rashness and impetuosity, when an artifice suggested itself to the fertile brain of his foreign valet, who was an experienced tactician in the wars of Venus. This was to ascertain, if possible, in what part of the mansion the lady slept; to be provided with a carriage and four horses, and in the dead of the night, with the a.s.sistance of two ruffians, to raise a large sheet before her window dipt in spirits, which being lighted would burn furiously, and then raising the cry of fire, the fair occupant would, of course, endeavour to escape; when the lover would have nothing more to do than watch his opportunity, seize her person, and conveying it to the carriage in waiting, drive off secure in his victory. The scheme was put in practice, and succeeded to the full extent of the projector's wishes; but the affair, which made considerable noise at the time, and was the subject of some official remonstrances, had nearly ended in a more serious manner. The brother of the lady was an officer in the army, and both the descendants of a poor but ancient family; the indignity offered to his name, and the seduction of his sister, called forth the retributive feelings of a just revenge; he sought out the offender, challenged him, but gave him the option of redeeming his sister's honour and his own by marriage. Alas! that was impossible; the earl was already engaged. A meeting took place, ~39~~when, reflection and good sense having recovered their influence over the mind of the dissipated lover, he offered every atonement in his power, professed a most unlimited regard for the lady, suggested that his destruction would leave her, in her then peculiar state, exposed to indigence, proposed to protect her, and settle an annuity of two hundred pounds per annum upon her for her life; and thus circ.u.mstanced the brother acceded, and the affair was, by this interposition of the seconds, amicably arranged. There are those yet living who remember the fair _limonadiere_ first coming to this country, and they bear testimony to her superior attractions. The lady lived for some years in a state of close retirement, under the protection of the n.o.ble earl, in the neighbourhood of Chelsea, and the issue of that connexion was a natural son, Mr. Debouchette, whom report states to be the father of Harriette Wilson and her sisters.

'Ere man's corruptions made him wretched, he Was born most n.o.ble, who was born most free.'

--Otway.

So thought young Debouchette; for a more wild and giddy fellow.in early life has seldom figured among the medium order of society. Whether the mother of the Cyprians was really honoured with the ceremony of the ritual, I have no means of knowing," said Crony; "but I well remember the lady, before these her beauteous daughters had trodden the slippery paths of pleasure: there was a something about her that is undefinable in language, but conveys to the mind impressions of no very pure principles of morality; a roving eye, salacious person, and swaggering carriage, with a most inviting condescension, always particularized the elder silk-stocking grafter of Chelsea, while yet the fair offspring of her house were lisping infants, innocent and beautiful as playful lambs.

Debouchette himself was a right jolly fellow, careless of domestic ~40~~happiness, and very fond of his bottle; and indeed that was excusable, as during a long period of his life he was concerned in the wine trade. To the conduct and instructions of the mother the daughters are indebted for their present share of notoriety, with all the attendant infamy that attaches itself to Harriette and her sisters:--and this perhaps is the reason why Mrs. Rochford, alias Harriette Wilson, so liberally eulogises, in her Memoirs, a parent whose purity of principle is so much in accordance with the exquisite delicacy of her accomplished daughter. As the girls grew up, they were employed, Amy and Harriette, at their mother's occupation, the grafting of silk stockings, while the junior branches of the family were operative clear starchers, as the old board over the parlour window used to signify, which Brummel would facetiously translate into getters up of fine linen, when Petersham did him the honour of driving him past the door, that he might give his opinion upon the rising merits of the family, who, like fragrant exotics, were always placed at the window by their judicious parent, to excite the attention of the curious. But, allons" said Crony, "we shall be late at the carnival, and I would not miss the treat of such an a.s.semblage for the honour of knighthood."