CHAPTER XXIV
LORD SCAMPERDALE AT HOME
We fear our fair friends will expect something gay from the aboveheading--lamps and flambeaux outside, fiddlers, feathers, and flirters in.Nothing of the sort, fair ladies--nothing of the sort. Lord Scamperdale 'athome' simply means that his lordship was not out hunting, that he had gothis dirty boots and breeches off, and dry tweeds and tartans on.
Lord Scamperdale was the eighth earl; and, according to the usualalternating course of great English families--one generation living and thenext starving--it was his lordship's turn to live; but the seventh earlhaving been rather unreasonable in the length of his lease, the presentearl, who during the lifetime of his father was Lord Hardup, had contractedsuch parsimonious habits, that when he came into possession he could notshake them off; and but for the fortunate friendship of Abraham Brown, thevillage blacksmith, who had given his young idea a sporting turn, enteringhim with ferrets and rabbits, and so training him on with terriers andrat-catching, badger-baiting and otter-hunting, up to the noble sport offox-hunting itself, in all probability his lordship would have been aregular miser. As it was, he did not spend a halfpenny upon anything buthunting; and his hunting, though well, was still economically done, costinghim some couple of thousand a year, to which, for the sake of euphony, Jackused to add an extra five hundred; 'two thousand five under'd a year,five-and-twenty under'd a year,' sounding better, as Jack thought, and moreimposing, than a couple of thousand, or two thousand, a year. There werefew days on which Jack didn't inform the field what the hounds cost hislordship, or rather what they didn't cost him.
Woodmansterne, his lordship's principal residence, was a fine place. Itstood in an undulating park of 800 acres, with its church, and its lakes,and its heronry, and its decoy, and its racecourse, and its varied grassesof the choicest kinds, for feeding the numerous herds of deer, so wellknown at Temple Bar and Charing Cross as the Woodmansterne venison. Thehouse was a modern edifice, built by the sixth earl, who, having been a'liver,' had run himself aground by his enormous outlay on this Italianstructure, which was just finished when he died. The fourth earl, who, weshould have stated, was a 'liver' too, was a man of _vertu_--a greattraveller and collector of coins, pictures, statues, marbles, andcuriosities generally--things that are very dear to buy, but oftentimesextremely cheap when sold; and, having collected a vast quantity from allparts of the world (no easy feat in those days), he made them heirlooms,and departed this life, leaving the next earl the pleasure of contemplatingthem. The fifth earl having duly starved through life, then made way forthe sixth; who, finding such a quantity of valuables stowed away, as hethought, in rather a confined way, sent to London for a first-ratearchitect. Sir Thomas Squareall (who always posted with four horses), whoforthwith pulled down the old brick-and-stone Elizabethan mansion, andbuilt the present splendid Italian structure, of the finest polished stone,at an expense of--furniture and all--say 120,000_l._; Sir Thomas'sestimates being 30,000_l._ The seventh earl of course they starved; and thepresent lord, at the age of forty-three, found himself in possession ofhouse, and coins, and curiosities; and, best of all, of some 90,000_l._ inthe funds, which had quietly rolled up during the latter part of hisvenerable parent's existence. His lordship then took counsel withhimself--first, whether he should marry or remain single; secondly, whetherhe should live or starve. Having considered the subject with all theattention a limited allowance of brains permitted, he came to theresolution that the second proposition depended a good deal upon the first;'for,' said he to himself, 'if I marry, my lady, perhaps, may _make_ melive; and therefore,' said he, 'perhaps I'd better remain single.' At allevents, he came to the determination not to marry in a hurry; and until hedid, he felt there was no occasion for him to inconvenience himself byliving. So he had the house put away in brown holland, the carpets rolledup, the pictures covered, the statues shrouded in muslin, the cabinets ofcuriosities locked, the plate secured, the china closeted, and everythingarranged with the greatest care against the time, which he put before himin the distance like a target, when he should marry and begin to live.
At first he gave two or three great dinners a year, about the height of thefruit season, and when it was getting too ripe for carriage to London bythe old coaches--when a grand airing of the state-rooms used to take place,and ladies from all parts of the county used to sit shivering with theirbare shoulders, all anxious for the honours of the head of the table. Hislordship always held out that he was a marrying man; but even if he hadn'tthey would have come all the same, an unmarried man being always clearly onthe cards; and though he was stumpy, and clumsy, and ugly, with as littleto say for himself as could well be conceived, they all agreed that he wasa most engaging, attractive man--quite a pattern of a man. Even onhorseback, and in his hunting clothes, in which he looked far the best, hewas only a coarse, square, bull-headed looking man, with hard, dry, round,matter-of-fact features, that never looked young, and yet somehow never getold. Indeed, barring the change from brown to grey of his short stubblywhiskers, which he trained with great care into a curve almost on to hischeek-bone, he looked very little older at the period of which we arewriting than he did a dozen years before, when he was Lord Hardup. Thesedozen years, however, had brought him down in his doings.
The dinners had gradually dwindled away altogether, and he had had all thelarge tablecloths and napkins rough dried and locked away against he gotmarried; an event that he seemed more anxious to provide for the moreunlikely it became. He had also abdicated the main body of the mansion, andtaken up his quarters in what used to be the steward's room; into which hecould creep quietly by a side door opening from the outer entrance, and sosave frequent exposure to the cold and damp of the large cathedral-likehall beyond. Through the steward's room was what used to be the munimentroom, which he converted into a bedroom for himself; and a little fartheralong the passage was another small chamber, made out of what used to bethe plate-room, whereof Jack, or whoever was in office, had the possession.All three rooms were furnished in the roughest, coarsest, homeliestway--his lordship wishing to keep all the good furniture against he gotmarried. The sitting-room, or parlour as his lordship called it, had an oldgrey drugget for a carpet, an old round black mahogany table on castors,that the last steward had ejected as too bad for him, four semi-circularwooden-bottomed walnut smoking-chairs; an old spindle-shanked sideboard,with very little middle, over which swung a few bookshelves, with thetermination of their green strings surmounted by a couple of foxes'brushes. Small as the shelves were, they were larger than his lordshipwanted--two books, one for Jack and one for himself, being all theycontained; while the other shelves were filled with hunting-horns, oddspurs, knots of whipcord, piles of halfpence, lucifer-match boxes,gun-charges, and such-like miscellaneous articles.
His lordship's fare was as rough as his furniture. He was a great admirerof tripe, cow-heel, and delicacies of that kind; he had tripe twice aweek--boiled one day, fried another. He was also a great patron ofbeefsteaks, which he ate half-raw, with slices of cold onion served in asaucer with water.
It was a beefsteak-and-batter-pudding day on which the foregoing run tookplace; and his lordship and Jack having satisfied nature off theirrespective dishes--for they only had vegetables in common--and havingfinished off with some very strong Cheshire cheese, wheeled their chairs tothe fire, while Bags the butler cleared the table and placed it betweenthem. They were dressed in full suits of flaming large-check red-and-yellowtartans, the tartan of that noble clan the 'Stunners,' with black-and-whiteShetland hose and red slippers. His lordship and Jack had related theirmutual adventures by cross visits to each other's bedrooms while dressing:and, dinner being announced by the time they were ready, they had fallento, and applied themselves diligently to the victuals, and now veryconsiderately unbuttoned their many-pocketed waistcoats and stuck out theirlegs, to give it a fair chance of digesting. They seldom spoke much untilhis lordship had had his nap, which he generally took immediately afterdinner; but on this partic
ular night he sat bending forward in his chair,picking his teeth and looking at his toes, evidently ill at ease in hismind. Jack guessed the cause, but didn't say anything. Sponge, he thought,had beat him.
At length his lordship threw himself back in his chair, and stretching hislittle queer legs out before him, began to breathe thicker and thicker,till at last he got the melody up to a grunt. It was not the fine generoussnore of a sleep that he usually enjoyed, but short, fitful, broken naps,that generally terminated in spasmodic jerks of the arms or legs. Thesegrew worse, till at last all four went at once, like the limbs of a PeterWaggey, when, throwing himself forward with a violent effort, he awoke;and finding his horse was not a-top of him, as he thought, he gave vent tohis feelings in the following ejaculations:
'Oh, Jack, I'm onhappy!' exclaimed he. 'I'm distressed!' continued he. 'I'mwretched!' added he, slapping his knees. 'I'm perfectly _miserable_!' heconcluded, with a strong emphasis on the 'miserable.'
'What's the matter?' asked Jack, who was half-asleep himself.
HIS LORDSHIP AND JACK]
'Oh, that Mister Something!--he'll be the death of me!' observed hislordship.
'I thought so,' replied Jack; 'what's the chap been after now?'
'I dreamt he'd killed old Lablache--best hound I have,' replied hislordship.
'He be ----,' grunted Jack.
'Ah, it's all very well for you to say "he be this" and "he be that," but Ican tell you what, that fellow is going to be a very awkward customer--aterrible thorn in my side.'
'Humph!' grunted Jack, who didn't see how.
'There's mischief about that fellow,' continued his lordship, pouringhimself out half a tumbler of gin, and filling it up with water. 'There'smischief about the fellow. I don't like his looks--I don't like his coat--Idon't like his boots--I don't like anything about him. I'd rather see theback of him than the front. He must be got rid of,' added his lordship.
'Well, I did my best to-day, I'm sure,' replied Jack. 'I was deuced nearwanting the patent coffin you were so good as to promise me.'
'You did your work well,' replied his lordship; 'you did your work well;and you shall have my other specs till I can get you a new pair from town;and if you'll serve me again, I'll remember you in my will--I'll leave yousomething handsome.'
'I'm your man,' replied Jack.
'I never was so bothered with a fellow in my life,' observed his lordship.'Captain Topsawyer was bad enough, and always pressed far too close on thehounds, but he would pull up at a check; but this rusty-booted 'bominationseems to think the hounds are kept for him to ride over. He must be got ridof somehow,' repeated his lordship; 'for we shall have no peace while he'shere.'
'If he's after either of the Jawley girls, he'll be bad to shake off,'observed Jack.
'That's just the point,' replied his lordship, quaffing off his gin withthe air of a man most thoroughly thirsty; 'that's just the point,' repeatedhe, setting down his tumbler. 'I think if he is, I could cook his goose forhim.'
'How so?' asked Jack, drinking off his glass.
'Why, I'll tell you,' replied his lordship, replenishing his tumbler, andpassing the old gilt-labelled blue bottle over to Jack; 'you see, Frosty'sa cunning old file, picks up all the news and gossip of the country whenhe's out at exercise with the hounds, or in going to cover--knowseverything!--who licks his wife, and whose wife licks him--who's after sucha girl, and so on--and he's found out somehow that this Mr.What's-his-name isn't the man of metal he's passing for.'
'Indeed,' exclaimed Jack, raising his eyebrows, and squinting his eyesinside out; Jack's opinion of a man being entirely regulated by his purse.
'It's a fact,' said his lordship, with a knowing shake of his head. 'As wewere toddling home with the hounds, I said to Frosty, "I hope that Mr.Something's comfortable in his bath"--meaning Gobblecow Bog, which he rodeinto. "Why," said Frosty, "it's no great odds what comes of such rubbage asthat." Now, Frosty, you know, in a general way, is a most polite,fair-spoken man, specially before Christmas, when he begins to look for thetips; and as we are not much troubled with strangers, thanks to yoursensible way of handling them, I thought Frosty would have made the most ofthis natural son of Dives, and been as polite to him as possible. However,he was evidently no favourite of Frosty's. So I just asked--not that onelikes to be familiar with servants, you know, but still this brown-bootedbeggar is enough to excite one's curiosity and make any one go out of one'sway a little--so I just asked Frosty what he knew about him. "All over theleft," said Frosty, jerking his thumb back over his shoulder, and lookingas knowing as a goose with one eye; "all over the left," repeated he."What's over the left?" said I. "Why, this Mr. Sponge," said he. "How so?"asked I. "Why," said Frosty, "he's come gammonin' down here that he's agreat man--full of money, and horses, and so on; but it's all my eye, he'sno more a great man than I am."'
'The deuce!' exclaimed Jack, who had sat squinting and listening intentlyas his lordship proceeded. 'Well, now, hang me, I thought he was a snob themoment I saw him,' continued he; Jack being one of those clever gentlemenwho know everything after they are told.
'"Well, how do you know, Jack?" said I to Frosty. "Oh, I knows," repliedhe, as if he was certain about it. However, I wasn't satisfied withoutknowing too; and, as we kept jogging on, we came to the old Coach andHorses, and I said to Jack, "We may as well have a drop of something towarm us." So we halted, and had glasses of brandy apiece, whips and all;and then, as we jogged on again, I just said to Jack casually, "Did you sayit was Mr. Blossomnose told you about old Brown Boots?""No--Blossomnose--no," replied he, as if Blossom never had anything half sogood to tell; "it was a young woman," said he, in an undertone, "who toldme, and she had it from old Brown Boots's groom."'
'Well, that's good,' observed Jack, diving his hands into the very bottomof his great tartan trouser pockets, and shooting his legs out before him;'well, that's good,' repeated he, falling into a sort of reverie.
'Well, but what can we make of it?' at length inquired he, after a longpause, during which he ran the facts through his mind, and thought theycould not be much ruder to Sponge than they had been. 'What can we make ofit?' said he. 'The fellow can ride, and we can't prevent him hunting; andhis having nothing only makes him less careful of his neck.'
'Why, that was just what I thought,' replied Lord Scamperdale, takinganother tumbler of gin; 'that was just what I thought--the fellow can ride,and we can't prevent him; and just as I settled that in my sleep, I thoughtI saw him come staring along, with his great brown horse's head in the air,and crash right a-top of old Lablache. But I see my way clearer with himnow. But help yourself,' continued his lordship, passing the gin-bottleover to Jack, feeling that what he had to say required a littlerecommendation. 'I think I can turn Frosty's information to some account.'
'I don't see how,' observed Jack, replenishing his glass.
'_I_ do, though,' replied his lordship, adding, 'but I must have yourassistance.'
'Well, anything in moderation,' replied Jack, who had had to turn his handto some very queer jobs occasionally.
'I'll tell you what _I_ think,' observed his lordship. 'I think there aretwo ways of getting rid of this haughty Philistine--this uncleanspirit--this 'bomination of a man. I think, in the first place, if oldChatterbox knew that he had nothing, he would very soon bow him out ofJawleyford Court; and in the second, that we might get rid of him by buyinghis horses.'
'Well,' replied Jack, 'I don't know but you're right. Chatterbox would soonwash his hands of him, as he has done of many promising young gentlemenbefore, if he has nothing; but people differ so in their ideas of whatnothing consists of.'
Jack spoke feelingly, for he was a gentleman who was generally spoken of ashaving nothing a year, paid quarterly; and yet he was in the enjoyment ofan annuity of sixty pounds.
'Oh, why, when I say he has nothing,' replied Lord Scamperdale, 'I meanthat he has not what Jawleyford, who is a bumptious sort of an ass, wouldconsider sufficient to make him a fit match for one of his daughters.
Hemay have a few hundreds a year, but Jaw, I'm sure, will look at nothingunder thousands.'
'Oh, certainly not,' said Jack, 'there's no doubt about that.'
'Well, then, you see, I was thinking,' observed Lord Scamperdale, eyeingJack's countenance, 'that if you would dine there to-morrow, as we fixed--'
'Oh, dash it! I couldn't do that,' interrupted Jack, drawing himselftogether in his chair like a horse refusing a leap; 'I couldn't do that--Icouldn't dine with Jaw, not at no price.'
'Why not?' asked Lord Scamperdale; 'he'll give you a gooddinner--fricassees, and all sorts of good things; far finer fare than youhave here.'
'That may all be,' replied Jack, 'but I don't want none of his food. I hatethe sight of the fellow, and detest him fresh every time I see him.Consider, too, you said you'd let me off if I sarved out Sponge; and I'msure I did my best. I led him over some awful places, and then what aducking I got! My ears are full of water still,' added he, laying his headon one side to try to run it out.
'You did well,' observed Lord Scamperdale--'you did well, and I fullyintended to let you off, but then I didn't know what a beggar I had todeal with. Come, say you'll go, that's a good fellow.'
'Couldn't,' replied Jack, squinting frightfully.
'You'll _oblige_ me,' observed Lord Scamperdale.
'Ah, well, I'd do anything to oblige your lordship,' replied Jack, thinkingof the corner in the will. 'I'd do anything to oblige your lordship: butthe fact is, sir, I'm not prepared to go. I've lost my specs--I've got noswell clothes--I can't go in the Stunner tartan,' added he, eyeing hisbackgammon-board-looking chest, and diving his hands into the capaciouspockets of his shooting-jacket.
'I'll manage all that,' replied his lordship; 'I've got a pair of splendidsilver-mounted spectacles in the Indian cabinet in the drawing-room, thatI've kept to be married in. I'll lend them to you, and there's no sayingbut you may captivate Miss Jawleyford in them. Then as to clothes, there'smy new damson-coloured velvet waistcoat with the steel buttons, and my fineblue coat with the velvet collar, silk facings, and our button on it;altogether I'll rig you out and make you such a swell as there's no sayingbut Miss Jawleyford'll offer to you, by way of consoling herself for theloss of Sponge.'
'I'm afraid you'll have to make a settlement for me, then,' observed ourfriend.
'Well, you are a good fellow. Jack,' said his lordship, 'and I'd as soonmake one on you as on any one.'
'I s'pose you'll send me on wheels?' observed Jack.
'In course,' replied his lordship. 'Dog-cart--name behind--Right Honourablethe Earl of Scamperdale--lad with cockade--everything genteel'; adding,'by Jove, they'll take you for me!'
Having settled all these matters, and arranged how the information was tobe communicated to Jawleyford, the friends at length took their block-tincandlesticks, with their cauliflower-headed candles, and retired to bed.