Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 2

"I shall put my foot into it—by jingo I shall! You must help me!" he whispered to Mr. Gammon, in an agony of trepidation and a mist of confusion, as he rose from his chair, being welcomed in the most enthusiastic manner, by applause of every kind, lasting for several minutes. At length, when the noise had subsided into a fearful silence, he stammered out, prompted incessantly by Mr. Gammon, something exceedingly like the following, if, indeed, he did not use these very words.

"Mr.—I beg pardon—Sir Hark—away, and gentlemen—gentlemen and ladies, am most uncommon, monstrous—particular happy to—to—(eh? what d'ye say, Mr. Gammon?) see you all here—at this place—here—at Yatton.—(Applause.) Ladies and gentlemen—I say—hem!—unaccustomed as—(much applause, during which Titmouse stooped and whispered to Gammon—"Curse me if I can catch a word you say!") Happy and proud to see you all here—at Yatton—homes of my ancestry—known to you all—centuries. Enjoyed yourselves, I hope—(great applause)—and hope you'll often come and do the same—(still greater applause.) Particular glad to see the ladies—(applause)—often heard of the beauties of Yatton—never believed it—no—beg pardon, mean I now see them—(applause.) Am fond of horses—(applause)—racing, hunting, and all that. (Here Sir Harkaway, extending his hand, publicly shook that of the eloquent speaker.) Sorry to turn out the—the—old bird—but—nest not his—mine all the while—(sensation)—bear him no ill-will—(applause.) Political principles—(profound silence.) Liberal principles—(loud applause)—rights of the people—religious liberty and all that—(vociferous applause)—found at my post in the hour of danger—enemy stole a march on me—(great laughter and applause.) Won't detain you—ladies and gentlemen—drink your good healths, and many happy returns of the day." Down sat Mr. Titmouse, exhausted by his maiden speech; and quite overpowered, moreover, by the extraordinary applause with which he was greeted at its conclusion. In due course, many other toasts were drunk; among them were—"Lady Wildfire and the married ladies." "Miss Wildfire and the single ladies." "Sir Harkaway Rotgut Wildfire." "Religious Liberty," (to which Mr. Mudflint responded in a very eloquent speech.) "The Liberty of the Press;" "Messrs Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, the enterprising, skilful, and learned professional advisers of Mr. Titmouse." Dancing was now loudly called for; and the hall was speedily prepared for it. By this time, however, it was past eleven o'clock; the free potations of all the gentlemen, and indeed (to be candid) of more than one of the ladies, were beginning to tell, and the noise and confusion were very great. Fierce confused sounds issued from the servants' hall, where it proved that a great fight was going on between Pumpkin the gardener, and a man who insisted on shouting "Titmouse forever—down with Aubrey!" Pumpkin, I am not sorry to say, had much the best of it, and beat his opponent, after a severe encounter, into silence and submission. Then there were songs sung in all the rooms at once—speeches made, half-a-dozen at the same time; in short, never before had such doings been witnessed, or such uproar heard, within the decorous, dignified, and venerable precincts of Yatton. Scenes ensued which really baffle description. Mr. Titmouse, of course, drank prodigiously, although Mr. Gammon never left his side, and checked him fifty times when he was about to fill his glass. The excitement thus produced by wine will, I trust, in some measure mitigate the reader's indignation at hearing of a little incident which occurred, in which Titmouse was concerned, and which, about half past three or four o'clock in the morning, served to bring that brilliant entertainment to a somewhat abrupt and rather unpleasant termination. Scarcely knowing where he was, or what he was about, I am sorry to say, that while standing, as well as he could, beside Miss Wildfire, to dance for the fifth time with her—a plump, fair-faced, good-natured girl of about nineteen or twenty—he suddenly threw his arms around her, and imprinted half-a-dozen kisses on her forehead, lips, cheek, and neck, before she could recover from the confusion into which this monstrous outrage had thrown her. Her faint shriek reached her father's ears, while he was, in a distant part of the room, persecuting Miss Quirk with drunken and profligate impertinence. Hastily approaching the quarter whence his daughter's voice had issued, he beheld her just extricated from the insolent embrace of the half-unconscious Titmouse, and greatly agitated. With flaming eye and outstretched arm, he approached his unfortunate little host, and seizing hold of his right ear, almost wrung it out of his head, Titmouse actually yelling with the pain which he experienced. Still retaining his hold, uttering the while most fearful imprecations—Sir Harkaway gave him three violent kicks upon the seat of honor, the last of them sending him spinning into the arms of old Mr. Quirk, who was hurrying up to his relief, and who fell flat on the floor with the violent concussion. Then Miss Quirk rushed forward and screamed; a scene of dreadful confusion ensued; and at length the infuriated and half-drunken baronet, forced away by his wife and his daughter, aided by several of the company, quitted the Hall, and got into his carriage, uttering fearful threats and curses all the way home; without once adverting to the circumstance, of which also Lady Wildfire and her daughter were not aware, that he had been himself engaged in perpetrating nearly the same sort of misconduct which he had so severely and justly punished in poor Titmouse. As for Mr. Yahoo and Mr. Fitz-Snooks, they had been in quest of similar sport the whole night; and had each of them, in pursuing their adventures in the servants' hall, very narrowly escaped much more serious indignities and injuries than had fallen to the lot of the hospitable owner of the mansion.

About half-past four o'clock, the sun was shining in cloudless splendor, the air cleared, and all nature seeming freshened after the storm of the preceding day; but what a scene was presented at Yatton! Two or three persons, one with his hat off, asleep; another grasping a half-empty bottle; and a third in a state of desperate indisposition, were to be seen, at considerable distances from each other, by the side of the carriage-road leading down to the park gates. Four or five horses, ready saddled and bridled, but neglected, and apparently forgotten by both servants and masters, were wandering about the fine green old court opposite the Hall door, eating the grass, and crushing with their hoofs the beautiful beds of flowers and shrubs which surrounded it. Mr. Glister's gig had got its wheels entangled with the old sundial—having been drawn thither by the horse, which had been put into it at least two hours before; opposite the Hall door stood the post-chaise which had brought Mr. and Mrs. Mudflint and their daughter. The latter two were sitting in it, one asleep—the other, Mrs. Mudflint, anxiously on the look-out for her husband, from time to time calling to him, but in vain; for about half an hour before, he had quitted the room where he, Mr. Fleshpot, Mr. Going Gone, and Mr. Centipede had been playing a rubber at whist, till all of them had nearly fallen asleep with their cards in their hands, and made his way to the stables; where, not finding his chaise in the yard, or his horses in the stalls, he supposed his wife and daughter had gone home, whither he followed them by the footpath leading through the fields which stretched along the high-road to Grilston; and along which said fields he was, at that moment, staggering, hiccuping, not clearly understanding where he was, nor where he had last seen his wife and daughter. Candles and lamps were still burning and glimmering in some of the rooms; and in the servants' hall there were some dozen or so of the lower kind of guests, who, having awakened from a deep sleep, were calling for more ale, or wine, or whatever else they could get. Some of the old family servants had fled hours before from scenes of such unwanted riot, to their bedrooms, and, having locked and barricaded the doors, had gone to sleep. Mr. Griffiths sat in an old armchair in the library, the picture of misery; he had been repeatedly abused and insulted during the night, and had gone thither, unable to bear the sight of the disgusting revelry that was going forward. In short, at every point that caught the eye, were visible the evidences of the villanous debauchery which had prevailed for the last seven hours; and which, under the Titmouse dynasty, was likely to prevail at all times thereafter. As for Mr. Titmouse, half stunned with the treatment which he had experienced at the hands of Sir Harkaway, he had been carried to bed—where his excessive, miscellaneous, and long-continued potations aggravating the effect of the serious injuries which he had sustained, he lay sprawling, half undressed, in a truly deplorable condition. Mr. Glister, who had been summoned to his bedside upwards of an hour before, sat now nodding in his chair beside his patient; and pretty nearly in a state of similar exhaustion were his valet and the housekeeper, who had, from time to time, wiped her eyes and sobbed aloud when thinking of past times, and the horrid change which had come over old Yatton. Mr. Yahoo, Mr. Fitz-Snooks, Mr. Snap, Mr. Quirk, and Miss Quirk, (the last having retired to her bedroom in the utmost terror, at the time of Titmouse's mischance,) were in their respective chambers, all of them probably asleep. Poor Hector, chained to his kennel, having barked himself hoarse for several hours, lay fast asleep, no one having attended to him, or given him anything to eat since Mr. Titmouse's arrival. Gammon had retired from the scene, in disgust and alarm, to his bedroom, some three hours before; but unable to sleep—not, however, with excess of wine, for he had drunk very little—had arisen about four o'clock, and was at that moment wandering slowly, with folded arms and downcast countenance, up and down the fine avenue of elm-trees, where, it may be recollected, Mr. Aubrey had spent a portion of the last evening of his stay at Yatton.

Such is my account of that memorable entertainment—and as fair an account as I know how to give of the matter; but it is curious to observe how very differently the same thing will strike different people. As soon as the grateful Mr. Centipede had recovered from the excitement occasioned by the part which he had borne in the splendid festival, he set to work, with the pen of a ready writer, and in the next number of the "Yorkshire Stingo," there appeared the following interesting account of the

"Festivities at Yatton Hall, on the occasion of POSSESSION being taken by Tittlebat Titmouse, Esquire

"Yesterday this interesting event came off with signal éclat. Notwithstanding the very unfavorable state of the weather, about five o'clock in the evening an imposing cavalcade, comprising many of the leading gentry and yeomanry of this part of the county, on foot and on horseback, preceded by an admirable band, and a large and splendid banner, bearing the inscription—'Welcome to Yatton,' went out to meet the above distinguished gentleman, whose cortège, in two carriages, made its appearance in the village about half-past five. The band immediately struck up 'See the Conquering Hero comes!' which inspiriting air, however, was nearly drowned in the shout which welcomed the new proprietor of the noble estate of Yatton. His carriage was of the most tasteful, splendid, and unique description, and attracted universal admiration. Mr. Titmouse repeatedly bowed through the carriage-windows, in graceful acknowledgment of the cordial welcome and congratulations with which he was received. He was dressed in a light blue surtout, with velvet collar, full black stock, and a rich velvet waistcoat of plaid pattern. His countenance is handsome and expressive, his eye penetrating, and his brow strongly indicative of thought. He appears to be little more than twenty-five years old; so that he has before him the prospect of a long and brilliant career of happiness and public usefulness. Tables were spread in all the chief apartments, groaning beneath the most costly viands. All the luxuries of the season were there; and the wines (which we believe were those of Mr. Aubrey) were of the first description. Grace was said by the exemplary vicar of Grilston, the Rev. Mr. Fleshpot; and the Rev. Mr. Mudflint returned thanks. Sir Harkaway Rotgut Wildfire (whose amiable lady and accomplished daughter were present) proposed the health of Mr. Titmouse in a brief, but manly and cordial address; and the manner in which Mr. Titmouse acknowledged the toast, which was drunk with the greatest possible enthusiasm—the simplicity, point, and fervor which characterized every word he uttered—were such as to excite lively emotion in all who heard it, and warrant the highest expectations of his success in Parliament. Nothing could be more touching than his brief allusions to the sufferings and privations which he had undergone—nothing more delicate and forbearing than the feeling which pervaded his momentary allusion to the late occupant of Yatton. When, however, he distinctly avowed his political principles as those of a dauntless champion of civil and religious liberty among all classes of his Majesty's subjects—the applause was long and enthusiastic. After dinner, the great hall was cleared for dancing, which was opened by Mr. Titmouse and Miss Wildfire; Lady Wildfire being led out by the Honorable [!] Mr. Yahoo, an intimate friend of Mr. Titmouse. We should not omit to mention that Miss Quirk (the only daughter of Caleb Quirk, Esq., the head of the distinguished firm of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, of London, to whose untiring and most able exertions is owing the happy change which has taken place in the ownership of the Yatton property) accompanied her father, at the earnest request of Mr. Titmouse, who danced several sets with her; and it is whispered—but we will not anticipate family arrangements. Sir [!] Algernon Fitz-Snooks, a distinguished fashionable, also accompanied Mr. Titmouse, and entered with great spirit into all the gayeties of the evening. The 'light fantastic toe' was kept 'tripping' till a late, or rather very early hour in the morning—when the old Hall was once more (for a time) surrendered to the repose and solitude from which it has been so suddenly and joyously aroused."

[In another part of the paper was contained an insulting paragraph, charging Mr. Aubrey with being a party to the "flagrant and iniquitous job," by which Sir Percival Pickering had been returned for the borough; and intimating pretty distinctly, that Mr. Aubrey had not gone without "a consideration" for his share in the nefarious transaction.]

A somewhat different account of the affair appeared in the "York True Blue" of the same day.

"Yatton Hall.—We have received one or two accounts of the orgies of which this venerable mansion was yesterday the scene, on occasion of Mr. Titmouse taking possession. We shall not give publicity to the details which have been furnished us—hoping that the youth and inexperience of the new owner of Yatton (all allowance, also, being made for the very natural excitement of such an occasion) will be deemed a palliative in some measure of the conduct then exhibited.

One fact, however, we may mention, that a very serious fracas arose between Mr. Titmouse and a certain well-known sporting baronet, which is expected to give employment to the gentlemen of the long robe at the ensuing assizes. Nor can we resist adverting to a circumstance, which our readers will, we trust, credit, on being assured that we witnessed it with our own eyes—that Mr. Titmouse positively travelled in the cast-off state carriage of the Lord Mayor of London!!!! Nothing, by the way, could be more absurd and contemptible than the attempt at a 'Procession' which was got up—of which our accounts are ludicrous in the extreme. Will our readers believe it, that the chief personages figuring on the occasion, were the editor and publisher of a certain low Radical print—which will no doubt, this day, favor its readers with a flaming description of this 'memorable affair!'"

Titmouse, assisted by his attentive valet, made a desperate attempt to get up, and present himself the next day at dinner. Aided by a glass of pretty strong brandy and water, he at length got through the fatiguing duties of the toilet, and entered the drawing-room, where his travelling companions were awaiting his arrival—dinner being momentarily expected to be announced. He was deadly pale; his knees trembled; his temples throbbed; his eyes could not bear the light; and everything seemed in undulating motion around him, as he sank in silent exhaustion on the sofa. After a few minutes' continuance, he was compelled to leave the room, leaning on Gammon's arm, who conducted him to his chamber, and left him in charge of his valet, who got him again into bed, and there he lay, enduring much agony, (Dr. Goddart being sent for,) while his friends were enjoying themselves at dinner.

Snap had set off the ensuing day for town, by the first coach, pursuant to the arrangements already spoken of; but I think that old Mr. Quirk would have made up his mind to continue at Yatton until something definite had been done by Titmouse, in two matters which absorbed all the thoughts of the old gentleman—his daughter and the Ten Thousand Pounds bond. Miss Quirk, however, intense as was her anxiety to become the affianced bride of Titmouse, and as such the mistress of the delightful domain where at present she dwelt only as a guest, and in a very embarrassing position—was not so blind to all perception of womanly delicacy as to prolong her stay; and at length prevailed upon her father to take their departure on the day but one after that on which they had arrived. Mr. Quirk was perfectly miserable. He vehemently distrusted Titmouse—and feared and detested Gammon. As for the former gentleman, he had not made any definite advances whatever towards Miss Quirk, nor afforded to any one the slightest evidence of a promise of marriage, either express or implied. He chattered to Miss Quirk an infinite deal of vulgar absurdity—but that was all, in spite of the innumerable opportunities afforded him by the lady and her anxious parent. Was Titmouse acting under the secret advice of that deceitful devil Gammon?—thought Mr. Quirk, in an ecstasy of perplexity and apprehension. Then as to the other matter—but there Gammon had almost as deep a stake, in proportion, as Quirk himself. On the morning of his departure, he and Gammon had a very long interview, in which they several times came to high words; but in the end Gammon vanquished his opponent as usual; allayed all his apprehensions; and accounted for all Titmouse's conduct in the most natural way in the world. "Look at his position just now," quoth Gammon—"the excitement, the novelty, the bewilderment, the indisposition he is experiencing: surely, surely this is not a moment to bring him to book!" In short, Gammon at length brought Quirk, who had received the first intimation of the matter with a sudden grunt of surprise and anger, to acknowledge the propriety of Gammon's remaining behind, to protect Titmouse from the designing Yahoo that had got hold of him; and solemnly pledged himself, as in the sight of Heaven, to use his utmost efforts to bring about, as speedily as possible, the two grand objects of Mr. Quirk's wishes. With this the old gentleman was fain to be satisfied; but entered the chaise which was to convey Miss Quirk and himself to Grilston, with as rueful a countenance as he had ever exhibited in his life. Mr. Titmouse was sufficiently recovered to be present at the departure of Miss Quirk, who regarded his interesting and languid looks with an eye of melting sympathy and affection. With half a smile and half a tear, she slipped into his hand, as he led her to the chaise, a little sprig of heart's ease, which he at once stuck into the button-hole of his coat.

"'Pon my soul—must you go? Devilish sorry you can't stay to have seen some fun!—The old gent" (meaning her father) "don't quite seem to like it—he, he!" said he, in a low tone; then he handed her into the chaise, she dropping her veil to conceal the starting tear of mingled disappointment, and desire, and disgust, and they drove off, Titmouse kissing his hand to her as he stood upon the steps; and, as soon as they were out of sight, he exchanged a very significant smile with Mr. Gammon.

The next day, Titmouse rose about ten o'clock, almost entirely recovered from his indisposition. Accompanied by Mr. Yahoo and Mr. Fitz-Snooks, with whom he was conversing as to the course he should take with reference to Sir Harkaway—whom, however, they advised him to treat with silent contempt, as he, Titmouse, was clearly in the wrong—he took a stroll about noon, down the path leading to the park gates. They all three had cigars in their mouths, Titmouse walking between them, as odious-looking a little puppy, sure, as man ever saw—puffing out his smoke slowly, and with half-closed eye, his right hand stuck into his coat-pocket, and resting on his hip. These three figures—Heaven save the mark!—were the new lord of Yatton and his select friends!

"By jingo, surely here comes a parson," quoth Titmouse; "what the devil can he want here?"—'Twas Dr. Tatham, who slowly approached them, dressed in his Sunday suit, and leaning on his old-fashioned walking-stick, given him many, many years ago by the deceased Mrs. Aubrey.

"Let's have some sport," said Fitz-Snooks.

"We must look devilish serious—no grinning till the proper time," said Yahoo.

"Hallo—you sir!" commenced Titmouse, "who are you?" Dr. Tatham took off his hat, bowed, and was passing on.

"Devilish cool, upon—my—soul—sir?" said Titmouse, stopping, and staring impudently at the worthy little doctor, who seemed taken quite by surprise.

"My worthy old gentleman," said Yahoo, with mock respect, "are you aware who it was that asked you a question?"

"I am not, sir," replied Dr. Tatham, quietly but resolutely.

"My name is Tittlebat Titmouse, at your service—and you are now in my grounds," said Titmouse, approaching him with an impudent air.

"Am I really addressed by Mr. Titmouse?" inquired Dr. Tatham, somewhat incredulously.

"Why, 'pon my life, I think so, unless I'm changed lately; and by Jove, sir—now, who are you?"

"I am Dr. Tatham, sir, the vicar of Yatton: I had intended calling at the Hall, as a matter of courtesy; but I fear I am intruding"–

"Devil a bit—no, 'pon honor, no! you're a very good old fellow, I don't doubt!—Pray—a—is that little church outside, yours?"

"It is, sir," replied Dr. Tatham, seriously and sternly; his manner completely abashing the presumptuous little coxcomb who addressed him.

"Oh—well—I—I—'pon my soul, happy to see you, sir—you'll find something to eat in the Hall, I dare say"–

"Do you preach in that same little church of yours next Sunday?" inquired Mr. Yahoo, whose gross countenance had filled Dr. Tatham with unspeakable aversion.

"I preach there every Sunday, sir, twice," he replied gravely and distantly.

"You see, sir," lisped Fitz-Snooks, "the prayers are so—so—devilish long and tiresome—if you could—eh?—shorten 'em a little?"—

Dr. Tatham slowly turned away from them, and, disregarding their calls to him, though their tone of voice was greatly altered, walked back again towards the gate, and quitted the park for the first time in his life, with feelings of mortal repugnance. On reaching his little study, he sat down in his old armchair, and fell into a sad revery, which lasted more than an hour; and then he rose, and went to see the old blind stag-hound fed—and looked at it, licking his hands, with feelings of unusual tenderness; and the doctor shed a tear or two as he patted its smooth gray old head.

On Saturday morning, Mr. Titmouse, at Mr. Gammon's instance, had fixed to go over the estate, accompanied by that gentleman, and by Mr. Waters and Dickons, to give all the information required of them, and point out the position and extent of the property. To an eye capable of appreciating it, in what admirable order was everything! but Titmouse quickly tired of it, and when about a mile from the Hall, discovered that he had left his cigar-box behind him; at which he expressed infinite concern, and, greatly to the annoyance of Gammon, and the contempt of his two bailiffs, insisted on returning home; so they re-entered the park. How beautiful it was! Its gently undulating surface, smooth as if overspread with green velvet; trees great and small, single and in clumps, standing in positions so picturesque and commanding; the broad, babbling, clear trout-stream winding through every part of the park, with here and there a mimic fall, seen faintly flashing and glistening in the distance; herds of deer suddenly startled amid their green pastures and silent shades, and moving off with graceful ease and rapidity; here and there a rustic bridge over the stream; here an old stone bench placed on an elevation commanding an extensive prospect; there a kind of grotto, or an ivy-covered summer-house; then the dense, extensive, and gloomy woods, forming a semicircular sweep round the back of the Hall; all around, nearly as far as the eye could reach, land of every kind in the highest state of cultivation, plentifully stocked with fine cattle, and interspersed with snug and substantial farms.