Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 3

"Rose like an exhalation,"

in the metropolis alone, within one twelvemonth's time. But then came the question, upon what were these grand combined forces to operate? Undertakings of commensurate magnitude must be projected—and so it was. It really mattered not a straw how wild and ludicrously impracticable was a project—it had but to be started, and announced, to call forth moneyed people among all classes, all making haste to be rich—and ready to back the speculation, even to the last penny they had in the world; pouring out their capital with a recklessness, of which the lamentable results may prevent their recurrence. Any voluble visionary who was unluckily able to reach the ear of one or two persons in the city, could expand his crotchet into a "company" with as little effort as an idiot could blow out a soap-bubble. For instance: one wiseacre (who surely ought never to have been at large) conceived a plan for creating ARTIFICIAL RAIN at an hour's notice, over any extent of country short of a circle of three miles in diameter; a second, for conveying MILK to every house in the metropolis in the same way as water is at present conveyed—viz. by pipes, supplied by an immense reservoir of milk to be established at Islington, and into which a million of cows were to be milked night and morning; a third, for converting saw-dust into solid wood; and a fourth, for surrounding the metropolis with a wall twenty feet in thickness, and fifty in height. Within three days of each of these hopeful speculations being announced, there were as many completely organized joint-stock companies established to carry them into effect. Superb offices were engaged in the city; Patrons, Presidents, Vice-Presidents; Trustees, Chairmen, Directors; Secretaries, Actuaries, Architects, Auditors; Bankers, Standing Counsel, Engineers, Surveyors, and Solicitors, appointed: and the names of all these functionaries forthwith blazed in dazzling array at the head of a "Prospectus," which set forth the advantages of the undertaking with such seductive eloquence as no man could resist; and within a week's time there was not a share to be had in the market. Into affairs of this description, Mr. Gammon, who soon saw the profit to be made out of them, if skilfully worked, plunged with the energy and excitement of a gamester. He drew in Mr. Quirk after him; and, as they could together command the ears of several enterprising capitalists in the city, they soon had their hands full of business, and launched two or three very brilliant speculations. Mr. Gammon himself drew up their "Prospectuses," and in a style which must have tempted the very devil himself (had he seen them) into venturing half his capital in the undertaking!—One was a scheme for providing the metropolis with a constant supply of salt water by means of a canal cut from the vicinity of the Nore, and carried nearly all round London, so as to afford the citizens throughout the year the luxury of sea-bathing. Another was of a still more extraordinary and interesting description—for carrying into effect a discovery, by means of which, ships of all kinds and sizes could be furnished with the means, by one and the same process—and that remarkably simple, cheap, and convenient—of obtaining pure fresh water from the SEA, and converting the salt or brine thrown off in the operation, instanter into gunpowder! The reality of this amazing discovery was decisively ascertained by three of the greatest chemists in England; a patent was taken out, and a company formed for immediately working the patent. This undertaking was the first that Gammon brought under the notice of the Earl of Dreddlington, whom he so completely dazzled by his description, both of the signal service to be conferred upon the country, and the princely revenue to be derived from it to those early entering into the speculation, that his Lordship intimated rather an anxious wish to be connected with it.

"Good gracious, sir!" said his Lordship, with an air of wonder—"to what a pitch is science advancing! When will human ingenuity end? Sir, I doubt not that one of these days everything will be found out!"

"Certainly—I feel the full force of your Lordship's very striking observation," replied Gammon, who had listened to him with an air of delighted deference.

"Sir, this is a truly astonishing discovery! Yet, I give you my honor, sir, I have often thought that something of the kind was very desirable, as far as the obtaining fresh water from salt water was concerned, and have wondered whether it could ever be practicable: but I protest the latter part of the discovery—the conversion of the brine into gunpowder—is—is—sir, I say it is—astounding; it is more; it is very interesting, in a picturesque, and important in a patriotic point of view. Only think, sir, of our vessels gathering gunpowder and fresh water from the sea they are sailing over. Sir, the discoverer deserves a subsidy! This must in due time be brought before Parliament." His Lordship got quite excited; and Gammon, watching his opportunity, intimated the pride and pleasure it would give him to make his Lordship the patron of the gigantic undertaking in question.

"Sir—sir—you do me—infinite honor," quoth the earl, quite flustered by the suddenness of the proposal.

"As there will be, of course, your Lordship sees, several great capitalists concerned, I must, for form's sake, consult them before any step is taken; but I flatter myself, my Lord, that there can be but one opinion, when I name to them the possibility of our being honored with your Lordship's name and influence."

The earl listened to this with a stately bow and a gratified smile; and on the ensuing day received a formal communication from Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, soliciting his Lordship to become the patron of the undertaking—which he most graciously acceded to; and was easily prevailed upon to secure several other highly distinguished names among his friends, who were profoundly ignorant of business, in all its departments, but delighted to figure before the public, as the patrons of so great and laudable an enterprise. Out went forthwith, all over the country, the advertisements and prospectuses of the new company, and which could boast such commanding names as cast most of its sister companies into the shade—e. g. "The Right Honorable the Earl of Dreddlington, G.C.B., F.C.S., F.P.S., &c. &c."—"The Most Noble the Duke of Tantallan, K.T., &c. &c."—"The Most Honorable the Marquis of Marmalade, &c. &c. &c." The capital to be one million, in ten thousand shares of one hundred pounds each. Lord Dreddlington was presented with a hundred shares, as a mark of respect and gratitude from the leading shareholders; moreover, his Lordship took two hundred shares besides, and prevailed on various of his friends to do the same. In less than three weeks' time the shares had risen to £40 premium—[i.e. my lady readers will understand, each share for which his Lordship was supposed to have given, or to be liable to be called upon for £100, he could at any moment dispose of for £140]—and then Mr. Gammon so represented matters to his Lordship, as to induce him to part with his shares, which he found no difficulty in doing—and thereby realized a clear profit of £12,000. This seemed to the earl rather the effect of magic than of an everyday mercantile adventure. His respect for Gammon rose with everything he heard of that gentleman, or saw him do; and his Lordship allowed himself to be implicitly guided by him in all things. Under his advice, accordingly, the earl became interested in several other similar speculations, which so occupied his thoughts as almost to obliterate his sense of ministerial injustice. Several of his friends cautioned him, now and then, against committing himself to such novel and extensive speculations, in which he might incur, he was reminded, dangerous liabilities; but his magnificent reception of such interference, soon caused their discontinuance. The earl felt himself safe in the hands of Mr. Gammon, forming an equal and a very high estimate of his ability and integrity.

His Lordship's attention having been thus directed to such matters—to the mercantile interests of this great country—he soon began to take a vast interest in the discussion of such subjects in the House, greatly to the surprise and edification of many of his brother peers. Absorbing, however, as were these and similar occupations, they were almost altogether suspended as soon as a day—and that not a distant one—had been fixed upon for the marriage of the Lady Cecilia with Mr. Titmouse. From that moment, the old man could scarcely bear her out of his presence; following and watching all her movements with a peculiar, though still a stately, solicitude and tenderness. Frequent, earnest, and dignified, were his interviews with Titmouse—his representations as to the invaluable treasure that was about to be intrusted to him in the Lady Cecilia—the last direct representative of the most ancient noble family in the kingdom. Innumerable were his Lordship's directions to him concerning his future conduct, both in public and private life; intimating, in a manner at once impressive and affectionate, that the eyes of the country would be thenceforward fixed upon him, as son-in-law of the Earl of Dreddlington. His Lordship, moreover—pocketing the affront he had received at the hands of the Ministry—made a very strenuous and nearly a successful effort to procure for his destined son-in-law a vacant lordship of the Treasury. The Premier was really beginning to consider the subject, when Mr. O'Gibbet extinguished all the aspiring hopes of poor Lord Dreddlington, by applying for the vacant office for Mr. Och Hubbaboo, an early friend of Mr. O'Gibbet; and who having failed in business, and been unable to re-establish himself, had come into the House of Commons to repair his shattered fortunes. I need hardly say, that within a day or two, Mr. Hubbaboo was made a lord of the Treasury; and thereby were very nearly alienated from Ministers two stanch and enlightened supporters—to wit, the Earl of Dreddlington and Mr. Titmouse.

Early in the forenoon of Tuesday the 1st of April 18—, there were indications in the neighborhood of Lord Dreddlington's house in Grosvenor Square, that an aristocratic wedding was about to be celebrated. Lady Cecilia's bridemaids, and one or two other ladies, the Duke and Duchess of Tantallan, and a few other persons of distinction, who were to accompany the party to church, made their appearance about eleven o'clock; and shortly afterwards dashed up Mr. Titmouse's cab, in which sat that gentleman, enveloped in a magnificent green cloak, designed to conceal from vulgar observation the full splendor of his personal appearance. He had been engaged at his toilet since five o'clock that morning; and the results were not unworthy of the pains which had been taken to secure them. He wore a light-blue body coat, with velvet collar; tight black pantaloons tying round his ankles; gossamer white silk stockings, and dress-shoes, with small gold buckles. His shirt was of snowy whiteness, and there glittered in the centre of it a very superb diamond brooch. He had two waistcoats, the under one a sky-blue satin, (only the roll visible,) the outer one of white satin, richly embroidered. A burnished gold guard-chain was disposed very gracefully over the exterior of his outer waistcoat. His hair was parted down the middle, and curled forward towards each temple, giving his countenance a very bold and striking expression. He wore white kid gloves, a glossy new hat, and held in his hand his agate-headed ebony cane. Though he tried to look at his ease, his face was rather pale, and his manner a little flurried. As for the bride—she had slept scarcely a quarter of an hour the whole night; and a glimpse at her countenance, in the glass, convinced her of the necessity of yielding to Annette's suggestions, and rouging a little. Her eyes told of the sleepless and agitated night she had passed; and while dressing, she was twice forced to drink a little sal volatile and water. She was cold, and trembled. When at length she had completed her toilet, what a figure did her glass present to her! The dress—rich white satin—a long and beautiful blonde lace veil—and a delicate wreath of orange blossoms, was that of a bride, certainly; but was the haggard countenance that of a bride? Miss Macspleuchan burst into tears at the sight. When, attended by her bridemaids and Miss Macspleuchan, she made her appearance in the drawing-room, the Earl of Dreddlington approached her, and saluted her with silent tenderness. Then Titmouse came up, very pale, but with a would-be familiar air—"Hope you're quite well, dearest, this happy day," said he, and kissed her gloved hand. She made him no reply; stepped back, and sank upon the sofa; and presently the carriages were announced to be in readiness. The earl led her down, followed by her two bridemaids, and entered the first carriage, which then drove off to St. George's Church; Titmouse and the rest of the party immediately following. The ceremony was to be performed by the Bishop of Barnard Castle, an old friend, and indeed a distant relation of Lord Dreddlington's. Methinks I now see his portly and commanding figure, standing at the altar, with the little distinguished party before him; and hear his clear, sonorous voice reading the marriage-service. Titmouse was pale and flushed by turns, and looked frightened—behaving, however, with more sedateness than I should have expected. Lady Cecilia leaned, when she could, against the rails; and repeated her few allotted words in a voice scarcely audible. When Titmouse fixed the ring upon her finger, she trembled and shed tears—averting her face from him, and at length concealing it entirely in her pocket-handkerchief. She looked, indeed, the image of misery. The Earl of Dreddlington maintained a countenance of rigid solemnity. At length the all-important ceremony came to a close; the necessary entries and signatures were made in the vestry, to which the wedding party followed the bishop; and then Mr. Titmouse, taking HIS WIFE'S arm within his own, led her out to the private door, where stood waiting for them the earl's chariot. He handed her into it, and popped in after her—a little crowd standing round to catch a glimpse of the distinguished bride and bridegroom; and they drove rapidly homeward. He sat in one corner, and she in the other; each so occupied with their own thoughts, that they uttered scarcely two words all the way.

A splendid déjeuner à la fourchette was prepared, and a very brilliant party attended to pay their respects to the bride and bridegroom, and the Earl of Dreddlington; and about two o'clock the Lady Cecilia withdrew to prepare for her journey, which was to Poppleton Hall, her father's residence in Hertfordshire, where they were to spend their honeymoon. She had never shown so much emotion in her life as when she parted with Miss Macspleuchan and her bridemaids—being several times on the verge of hysterics. Mr. Titmouse's travelling-chariot—a dashing chocolate-colored one, with four horses—stood at the door, her Ladyship's maid and his valet seated in the rumble. Some hundred people stood round to see the

"Happy, happy, happy pair,"

set off on their journey of happiness. The earl led down Lady Cecilia, followed by Titmouse, who had exchanged his hat for a gaudy travelling-cap, with a gold band round it! Lady Cecilia, with drooping head and feeble step, suffered the earl, whom she kissed fervently, to place her in the chariot, when she burst into a flood of tears. Then Mr. Titmouse shook hands cordially with his distinguished father-in-law—popped into the chariot—the steps were doubled up—the door closed—the side-blinds were drawn down by Mr. Titmouse; "All's right!" cried one of the servants, and away rolled the carriage-and-four, which, quickening its speed, was soon out of sight. Lady Cecilia remained in a sort of stupor for some time, and sat silent and motionless in the corner of the chariot; but Titmouse had now become lively enough, having had the benefit of some dozen glasses of champagne.

"Ah, my lovely gal—dearest gal of my heart!" he exclaimed fondly, at the same time kissing her cold cheeks, and putting his arm round her waist—"Now you're all my own! 'pon my soul, isn't it funny, though? We're man and wife! By Jove, I never loved you so much as now, ducky! eh?" Again he pressed his lips to her cold cheek.

"Don't, don't, I beg," said she, faintly, "I'm not well;" and she feebly tried to disengage herself from his rude and boisterous embrace: while her drooping head and ashy cheek fully corroborated the truth of her statement. In this state she continued for the whole of the first stage. When they stopped to change horses, says Titmouse, starting up—having very nearly dropped asleep—"Cicely, as you're so uncommon ill, hadn't you better have your maid in, and I'll sit on the box?—it would be a devilish deal more comfortable for you—eh?"

"Oh, I should feel so obliged if you would, Mr. Titmouse!" she replied faintly. It was done as she wished. Titmouse enveloped himself in his cloak; and, having lit a cigar, mounted the box, and smoked all the way till they reached the Hall!

Gammon was one of those who had seen them set off on their auspicious journey. He contemplated them with deep interest and anxiety.

"Well," he exclaimed, walking away, with a deep sigh, when the carriage had got out of sight—"So far, so good: Heavens! the plot thickens, and the game is bold!"

Were you, oh unhappy Lady Cecilia! in entering into this ill-omened union, to be more pitied or despised? 'T was, alas! most deliberately done; in fact, we have already had laid before us ample means of determining the question—but 't is a delicate and painful one, and had perhaps be better left alone.

They spent about a fortnight at Poppleton Hall, and then went on to Yatton; and if the reader be at all curious to know how Mr. and Lady Cecilia Titmouse commenced their matrimonial career, I am able, in some measure, to gratify him, by the sight of a letter addressed by the Lady Cecilia, some time afterwards, to one of her confidential friends. 'T is melancholy enough, with, in addition, all the feebleness and dulness which might have been expected from one of her Ladyship's temperament and capacity; yet, methinks, may it suggest topics of instructive reflection.

"Yatton, 28th April 18—.

"Dear Blanche—

… "Fate should have something pleasant in store for me, since it has made me most unhappy now, but it is some consolation that I took this step purely to please my papa, who seemed to think that it was a thing that ought to be done: You know he always fretted himself greatly about the division of the family interests, and so on; and when he proposed to me this truly unhappy alliance, I supposed it was my duty to comply, as indeed he said it was. I am sure but for this I should never have dreamed of such a thing as doing what I did, for if, by the way, fate chose us to come together, it ought surely to have fitted us to each other; but really, dear Blanche, (entre nous) you cannot think what a creature it is.

He is always smoking cigars, &c., and he by that means not only carries the nasty odor of the smoke about him everywhere, but also in spite of all I can do, when we come together in the carriage (which is not often) and at meals, he communicates the odious smell to my clothes—and Annette wastes a fortune in eau-de-cologne to scatter over my dresses and her own too, and he has very nasty habits besides, namely, picking his teeth, (often at dinner,) eating with his knife, &c. &c., and he is continually running his fingers through his horrid hair, to curl it, and carries a comb with him, and several times has combed his hair in the carriage just before we got out at the door of the place we were to dine at, and he always takes too much wine, and comes up the very last to the drawing-room, and sometimes in such a state. I am resolved I will never come home with him from dinner again, even if I ever go out together with him. I do believe the wretch has been guilty of some impudence to Annette, for the girl always colors when I mention his name, and looks confused and angry, but of course I cannot ask her. And he is such a horrid liar there is no believing a word he says, he is always saying that he might if he had chosen marry Lady This and Lady That, and says Miss Aubrey was dying to have him (I wish, dear B., she had, instead of myself, she would have been welcome for me, to return and become mistress of Yatton again)—by the way, it certainly is a truly delightful spot, quite old-fashioned and all that and delightful grounds about it, but it seems like a nunnery to me, I am so unhappy and no one seems anxious to come to see me, though there are the –'s, and the –'s, and –'s within an hour or two's drive of us, but how can you wonder? for if you only saw the sort of people that come here, such horrid wretches, a Unitarian parson and his vulgar wife and daughter and a low apothecary and auctioneer and so on, which he says is necessary (forsooth) to keep up his interest in the borough. Then he goes on in such a shameful and unfeeling and disrespectful way before the vicar (Dr. Tatham, a very nice person, who I am sure, by his looks, feels for me) that Dr. T. will scarcely ever come near us under one pretence or another.

I am sorry to tell you Mr. Titmouse has no more sense of religion than a cat or a dog, and I understand he has left a great many of his election bills unpaid (so that he is very unpopular) and positively, dear Blanche! the diamond spray the creature bought me turns out to be only paste!! He never goes to church, and has got up one or two dog-fights in the village, and he is hated by the tenants, for he is always raising their rents. I forgot to mention by the way he had the monstrous assurance one morning to open my letters!—and said he had a right to do so, with his own wife, for we were one (I hate to write it) so I have had a letter-bag of my own which is always delivered into my own room. Oh Heavens! the idea of his succeeding to the barony! but to be sure you have no notion how hard he lives; (and entre nous the other day the doctor was called in to him and had to put leeches on his head, and certainly (entre nous, dearest B.,) I understand such things sometimes do often lead to very sad results, but however he certainly does seem better now.) My papa knows nothing of all this yet, but he soon must, and I am confident a separation must ensue, or I shall die, or go mad. Oh how thankful I should be!… But I could fill two or three sheets more in this way, and yet I have not told you a hundredth part of his gaucheries, but really you must be quite sick of hearing of them. If he will but leave me here when he goes up to town, you will surely pay me your promised visit—and I will tell you many more miserable things. In the mean while, oh dearest B., how I envy you being single, and wish I were so again!—Be sure you burn this when you have read it—and believe me, your unhappy,

"Cecilia.

"P. S. Of course I shall not ask him for one of his ridiculous franks, I never do; and as your brother is not with you, you must not grumble at paying the postage of this long letter.

"The Lady Blanche Lewisham."

A dull and phlegmatic disposition, like that of Lady Cecilia, must have been roused and stung indeed, before she could have attained to such bitterness of expression as is occasionally to be met with in the above communication. Though it shadows forth, with painful distinctness, several of the more disadvantageous features of Mr. Titmouse's character and conduct, there were far darker ones, with which its miserable writer had not then become acquainted. I shall but hastily glance at one of them; viz. that he was at that moment keeping a mistress in town, and commencing the seduction of a farmer's daughter in the neighborhood of Yatton! Execrable little miscreant!—why should I defile my paper by further specifying his gross misdeeds, or dwelling upon their sickening effects on the mind and feelings of the weak woman, who could suffer herself to be betrayed into such a monstrous union?—But is she the only one that has done so?

Whatever may be the accidental and ultimate advantages, in respect of fortune or social station, expected to be realized by woman in forming a union with one who would be otherwise regarded with indifference, or dislike, or disgust, she may rely upon it that she is committing an act of deliberate wickedness, which will be attended, probably, for the rest of her life, with consequences of unutterable and inevitable misery, which even the obtaining of her proposed objects will not compensate, but only enhance. It is equally a principle of our law, and of common sense, that people must be understood to have contemplated the natural and necessary consequences of their own acts, even if hastily—but by so much the more if deliberately done. When, therefore, they come to experience those consequences, let them not complain. A marriage of this description, is, so to speak, utter dislocation and destruction to the delicate and beautiful fabric of a woman's character. It perverts, it deflects the noblest tendencies of her lovely nature; it utterly degrades and corrupts her; she sinks irretrievably into an inferior being: instead of her native simplicity and purity, are to be seen thenceforth only heartlessness and hypocrisy. Her affections and passions, denied their legitimate objects and outlets, according to their original weakness or strength of development, either disappear and wither—and she is no longer WOMAN—or impel her headlong into coarse sensuality, perhaps at length open criminality; and then she is expelled indignantly and forever from the community of her sex. 'T is then, indeed, an angel turned into a FIEND!—Remember, remember, oh woman! that it is not the mere ring, and the orange blossom, which constitute the difference between VIRTUE—and VICE!–