Sir Jasper Carew: His Life and Experience

“With such excellent intentions, he could not have fallen into better hands than yours, O’Kelly,” said the Prince, laughing; “and I wish all the fellows we have been subsidizing these ten years no worse than to be your antagonists at piquet.” Then, addressing me, he said, “An Irishman, I presume?”

“Yes, your Royal Highness,” said I, bowing deeply.

“He started as an something, or Mac somebody,” said O’Kelly, interrupting; “but having been Don’d in Spain, ‘Strissemoed’ in Italy, and almost guillotined in France for calling himself Monsieur, he has come back to us without any designation that he dares to call his own.”

“That is exactly what happened to a very well known character in the reign of Charles I.,” said Conway, “who called himself by the title of his last conquest in the fair sex, saying, ‘When I take a reputation, I accept all the reproach of the name.’”

“There was another authority,” said Sheridan, – “a fellow who called himself the King of the Beggars, who styled himself each day after the man who gave him most, and died inheriting the name of Bamfield Moore Carew.”

“Carew will do admirably for my friend here, then,” said O’Kelly, “and we ‘ll call him so henceforth.”

It may be imagined with what a strange rush of emotion I accepted this designation, and laughingly joined in the caprice of the hour. I saw enough to convince me that all around received O’Kelly’s story as a mere piece of jest, and that none had any suspicion of my real condition save himself and his two friends. This conviction served to set me much at my ease, and I went down to dinner with far less of constraint than might have been supposed for one in my situation.

I will not disguise the fact that I thought for the first half-hour that every eye was on me, that whatever I did or said was the subject of general remark, and that my manner as I ate, and my tone as I spoke, were all watched and scrutinized. Gradually, however, I grew to perceive that I attracted no more notice than others about me, and that, to all purposes, I was admitted to a perfect equality with the rest.

Conversation ranged freely over a wide field. Politics of every state of Europe, the leading public characters and statesmen, their opinions and habits, the modes of life abroad, literature and the drama, were all discussed, if not always with great knowledge, still with the ready smartness of practised talkers. Anecdotes and incidents of various kinds were narrated, quips and sharp replies abounded; and amidst much cleverness and agreeability, a truly good-humored, convivial spirit leavened the whole mass, and made up a most pleasant party.

So interested had I become in the conversation about me that I did not perceive how, by degrees, I had been drawn on to talk on a variety of subjects which travel had made me familiar with, and to speak of persons of mark and station whom I had met and known. Still less did I remark that I was submitted to a species of examination as to my veracity, and that I was asked for dates, and times, and place, in a manner that might have startled one more susceptible. Warmed with what I may dare to call my success, and heated with wine, I grew bolder; I stigmatized as gross ignorance and folly the policy of the English Government in maintaining a war for what no success could ever bring back again, – the prestige of loyalty, and the respect once tendered to nobility.

I know not into what excesses my enthusiasm may have carried me. Enough when I say that I encountered the most brilliant talkers without fear, and entered the list with all that the day possessed of conversational power, without any sense of faint-heartedness. On such questions as the military system of France, the division of parties in that country, the probable issue to which the struggle pointed, I was, indeed, better informed than my neighbors; but when they came to discuss the financial condition of the French, and what it had been in the late reigns, I at once recalled all my conversations with Law, with every detail of whose system I was perfectly familiar.

Of the anecdotes of that time – a most amusing illustration of society as it then existed – I remembered many; and I had the good fortune to see that the Prince listened with evident pleasure to my recitals; and, at last, it was in the very transport of success I found myself ascending the stairs to the drawing-room, while O’Kelly whispered in my ear, —

“Splendidly done, by Jove! The Prince is going to invite you to Carlton House.”

After coffee was served, the party sat down to play of various kinds, – dice, cards, and backgammon. At the Prince’s whist-table there was a vacant place, and I was invited to take it. I had twenty guineas in gold in my pocket. They were my all in the world; but had they been as many millions, I would not have scrupled to risk them at such a moment. There was a strange, almost insane spirit that seemed to whisper to me that nothing could be too bold to adventure – no flight too high – no contrast with my real condition too striking to attempt! They who have braved danger and death to ascend some great glacier, the whole object the one triumphant moment on which they behold the blaze of sunrise, may form some conception of the maddening ecstasy of my sensations.

“Do you play at whist? If so, come and join us,” said the Prince.

“Take my purse,” whispered O’Kelly, endeavoring to slip it into my hand as he spoke.

I accepted the invitation; and, without taking any notice of O’Kelly’s offer, took my place at the table.

“We play low stakes, too low, perhaps, for you,” said his Royal Highness, – “mere guinea points; but there’s Canthorpe, and Sedley, and two or three more, will indulge you in any wager you fancy.”

“Fifty on the rubber, if you like, sir,” said Colonel Canthorpe, a tall, soldier-like man, who stood with his back to the fire.

“If my friend O’Kelly will be my banker for to-night, I shall take your offer.”

Without the slightest hesitation, O’Kelly replied, “To be sure, my boy!” and the game began.

My mastery at the game was soon apparent; and the Prince complimented me by saying, —

“I wish we could discover in what you are deficient; for up to this we have certainly not hit upon it.”

It needed not all this flattery to make me feel almost mad with excitement. I remember little of that scene; but still there is one trait of it fast graven on my memory, to hold its place there forever. It was this: that while I betted largely, and lost freely considerable sums, O’Kelly, who had become the security for my debts, never winced for a moment, nor showed the slightest mark of discomfiture or uneasiness. My demand, in the first instance, was suggested by the not over generous motive of making him pay the penalty he had incurred by having invited me. He has called me his friend before the world, thought I, and if he means this for a cruel jest, it shall at least cost him dearly. In a sort of savage ferocity, I fed myself with thinking of the tortures with which I should afflict him, in return for all the agony and suffering I had myself gone through. He also shall know what it is to act a lie, said I to myself; and with this hateful resolve I sat down to play. His ready acceptance of my proposition, his gentleman-like ease and calm, his actual indifference as I lost, and lost heavily, soon staggered all my reasonings, and routed all my theory. And when at last the Prince, complimenting me on my skill, deplored the ill-luck that more than balanced it, O’Kelly said, gayly, —

“Depend on ‘t, you’ll have better fortune after supper. Come and have a glass of champagne.”

I was now impatient until we were again at the card-table.

All my former intentions were reversed, and I would have given my right hand to have been able to repay my debt to him ere I said “Good night.” Perhaps he read what was passing within me; I almost suspect that he construed aright the restless anxiety that now beset me; for he whispered, as we went back to the drawing-room, —

“You are evidently out of luck. Wait for your revenge on another evening.”

“Now or never,” said I. And so was it in reality. I had secretly determined within myself to try and win back O’Kelly’s losses, and if I failed, at once to stand forward and declare myself in my real character. No false shame, no real dread of the ignominy to which I should expose myself should prevent me; and with an oath to my own heart I ratified this compact.

Again we took our places; the stakes were now doubled; and all the excitement of mind was added to the gambler’s infatuation. Colonel Canthorpe, who had been for some minutes occupied with his note-book, at last tore out the leaf he had been writing on, and handed it to me, saying, —

“Is that correct?”

The figures were six hundred and fifty, – the amount of my loss.

I simply nodded an assent, and said, —

“We go on, I suppose?”

“We ‘ll double, if you prefer it,” said he.

“What says my banker?” said I.

“He says, ‘Credit unlimited,’” cried O’Kelly, gayly.

“Egad! I wish mine would say as much,” said the Prince, laughing, as he cut the cards for me to deal.

Although I had drunk freely, and talked excitingly, my head became suddenly calm and collected, just as if some great emergency had sufficed to dispel all illusions, and enabled my faculties to assume their full exercise. Of O’Kelly I saw nothing more; he was occupied in an adjoining room; and even this element of anxiety was spared me.

I will not ask my reader to follow me through the vicissitudes of play, nor expect from him any share of interest in a passion which of all others is the most bereft of good, and allied with the very lowest of all motives, and the meanest of all ambitions. Enough that I tell the result. After a long course of defeats and disasters, I rose, not only clear of all my debts, but a winner of two hundred pounds.

The Prince heartily congratulated me on my good fortune, saying that none could better deserve it. He complimented me much on my play, but still more on my admirable temper as a loser, – a quality which, he added, he never could lay claim to.

“I’m a bad beaten man, but you are the very reverse,” said he. “Dine with me on Saturday, and I hope to see how you’ll comport yourself as a winner.”

I had but time to bow my humble acknowledgment of this gracious speech, when O’Kelly came up, saying, —

“So Canthorpe tells me you beat him, after all; but I always knew how it would end, – play must and will tell in the long run.”

“Non numen habes si sit Prudentia, – eh, O’Kelly?” said Conway.

“Prudentia means the ace of trumps, then,” said Sheridan.

“Where shall I send you my debt?” said Canthorpe to me, in a whisper. “What’s your club?”

“He’s only just arrived in town,” interrupted O’Kelly; “but I intend to put him up for Brooke’s on Wednesday, and will ask you to second him. You ‘re on the committee, I think?”

“Yes; and I ‘ll do it with great pleasure,” said Canthorpe.

“I’ll settle your score for you,” said O’Kelly to Canthorpe; and now, with much handshaking and cordiality, the party broke up.

“Don’t go for a moment,” said O’Kelly to me, as he passed to accompany the Prince downstairs. I sat down before the fire in the now deserted room, and, burying my head between my hands, I endeavored to bring my thoughts to something like order and discipline. It was to no use; the whirlwind of emotions I had endured still raged within me, and I could not satisfy myself which of all my characters was the real one. Was I the outcast, destitute and miserable? or was I the friend of the high-born, and the associate of a Prince? Where was this to end? Should I awake to misery on the morrow, or was madness itself to be the issue to this strange dream? Heaven forgive me if I almost wished it might be so, and if in my abject terror I would have chosen the half-unconscious existence of insanity to the sense of shame and self-upbraiding my future seemed to menace!

While I sat thus, O’Kelly entered, and, having locked the door after him, took his place beside me. I was not aware of his presence till he said, —

“Well, Jack, I intended to mystify others; but, by Jove! it has ended in mystifying myself. Who the devil are you? What are you?”

“If I don’t mistake me, you are the man to answer that question yourself. You presented me not alone to your friends, but to your Prince; and it is but fair to infer that you knew what you were about.”

He stared at me steadily without speaking. I saw the state of confusion and embarrassment from which he suffered, and I actually revelled in the difficulty in which I had placed him. I perceived all the advantage of my position, and resolved to profit by it.

“One thing is quite evident,” said I, calmly and collectedly, like a man who weighed all his words, and spoke with deep deliberation, – “one thing is quite evident, you could scarcely have presumed to take such a liberty with your Prince as to present to him, and place at the same table with him, a man whom you picked up from the streets, – one whose very station marked him for an outcast, whose exterior showed his destitution. This, I conclude, you could not have dared to do; and yet it is in the direct conviction that such was my position yesterday, I sit here now, trying to reconcile such inconsistency, and asking myself which of us two is in the wrong.”

“My good friend,” said O’Kelly, with a deliberation fully the equal of my own, and in a way that, I must confess, somewhat abashed me, – “my good friend, do not embarrass yourself by any anxieties for me. I am quite able and ready to account for my actions to any who deem themselves eligible to question them.”

“From which number,” said I, interrupting, “you would, of course, infer that I am to be excluded?”

“By no means,” said he, “if you can satisfy me to the contrary. I shall hold myself as responsible to you as to any one of those gentlemen who have just left us, if you will merely show me sufficient cause.”

“As how, for instance?” asked I.

“Simply by declaring yourself the rightful possessor of a station and rank in life for which your habits and manners plainly show you to be fitted. Let me be convinced that you have not derogated from this by any act unworthy of a man of honor – ”

“Stop, sir,” said I. “By what right do you dare to put me on my trial? Of your own free will you presumed to ask for my companionship. You extended to me an equality which, if not sincere, was an insult.”

“Egad! if you be really a gentleman, your reasons are all good ones,” said O’Kelly. “I own, too, frankly, I intended my freak as the subject of a wager. If I be caught in my own toils, I must only pay the penalty.”

“And give me satisfaction?”

“That is what I mean,” replied he, bowing.

“Then you have done it already,” said I, rising. “I ask for no more than the frank and manly readiness with which you acknowledge that poverty is no disqualification to the assertion of an honorable pride, and that the feeling of a gentleman may still throb in the heart of a ragged man.”

“You are surely not going to leave me this way,” said he, catching my hand in both his own. “You’ll tell me who you are, – you ‘ll let me know at least something of you.”

“Not now, at all events,” said I. “I’m not in a mood to encounter more at present. Good night. Before I leave you, however, I owe it, as some return for your hospitality, to say that I shall not hazard your credit with your Prince, – I do not mean to accept his invitation. You must find the fitting apology, for I shall leave England to-morrow, in all likelihood for years, – at all events, for a period long enough to make this incident forgotten. Good-bye.”

“By Jove! I ‘ll never forgive myself if we part in this fashion,” said O’Kelly. “Do – as a proof of some regard, or at least of some consideration for me – do tell me your real name.”

“Carew,” said I, calmly.

“No, no; that was but a jest. I ask in all earnestness and sincerity; tell me your name.”

“Jasper Carew,” said I, again; and before he could collect himself to reply, I had reached the door, and, with a last “good-night,” I passed out, and left him.

I could not bring myself to return to my miserable lodging again. I felt as if a new phase of life had opened on me, and that it would be an act of meanness to revert to the scenes of my former obscurity. I entered a hotel, and ordered a room. My appearance and dress at once exacted every respect and attention. A handsome chamber was immediately prepared for me; and just as day was breaking, I fell off into a deep sleep which lasted till late in the afternoon.

CHAPTER XL. AT SEA

I cannot attempt to describe my feelings on awaking, nor the lamentable failure of all my efforts at recalling the events of the night before. That many real occurrences seemed to me the mere effects of wine and a heated imagination, and that some of the very wildest freaks of my fancy were assumed by me as facts, I can now readily believe. In truth, my head was in a state of the wildest credulity and the very narrowest distrust, and my only astonishment now is, how I resisted impulses plainly suggested by coming insanity.

At one time I thought of calling O’Kelly out; then my indignation was directed against some other of the company, for either a real or a fancied grievance. Perhaps they had all been in the league against me, and that I had been invited merely to make a sport of my absurd pretensions, and to afford laughter by my vanity. Then it occurred to me that it was the Prince himself who was insulted by my companionship, and that they who had dared to make me the means of such an outrage should be held accountable.

Lastly came the thought, Is the whole a dream? Have I been drugged to play some absurd and ridiculous part, and shall I be exposed to ridicule when I appear abroad again? This impression was strengthened by the appearance of my dress, so unlike anything I had ever worn before. Of the incidents of the card-table I could remember next to nothing. A few trivial facts of the game, an accidental event in the play itself, remained in my memory, but that was all. I fancied I had been a heavy loser; but how, when, or to whom, I knew not. I opened my pocket-book, and found four notes for fifty pounds each; but how they came there I could not conceive! And yet, said I, all this took place yesterday! and what was I before that? – where did I live, and with whom associate? My head began to turn, the strangest thoughts chased each other through my brain. Incidents of the street, collisions and accidents of all kinds, were mingled with events of the previous evening; want and squalor stood side by side with splendor, and the bland accents of royalty blended themselves with the brutal exclamations of my former fellows. Then there flashed across me the thought that the drama in which I had been made to perform was not yet played out. They mean me to figure further on the boards, said I to myself; the money has been supplied to me to tempt me into extravagance which shall make me even more ridiculous still. My every action watched, my words listened to, my gestures noted down, I am to be the butt of their sarcastic pleasure, and all my pretensions to the’ habits, the feelings, and the manners of a gentleman be held up as a subject for mockery and derision.

I half dreaded to ring the bell and summon the waiter, lest I should be exposing myself to a spy on my actions. When I approached the window to look out, I fancied that every accidental glance of a passer-by was the prying gaze of insolent curiosity. It was in a state of fever that I dressed myself; and even then my costume of full dinner dress made me feel ashamed to venture abroad. At last I took courage to order breakfast. The respectful demeanor of the waiter gave me further confidence, and I ventured to ask him a few questions on passing events. I learned that the hotel was one usually frequented by foreigners, for whose accommodation two or three Continental newspapers were taken. At my request he fetched me one of these, – “La Gazette de Paris;” and with this for my companion, I sat myself down at my fire, resolved to remain a close prisoner for at least a day or two.

Towards evening I sent for a tailor and ordered two suits of clothes, with linen, and, in fact, all that I stood in need of; and when night set in, I issued forth to make several small purchases of articles I wanted. It was late when I entered the hotel, and, not having eaten any dinner, I felt hungry. The waiter showed me into the coffee-room, which was arrayed in foreign fashion, and where they supped à la carte.

The general appearance of the company at once proclaimed their origin; and a less practised eye than mine even, might have seen that they were all natives of some Continental country. They talked loudly and gesticulated wildly, careless to all seeming of being overheard by strangers, and little regarding in whose presence they might be standing. Their bearing was, in fact, such as speedily set me at ease amongst them, and made me feel myself unnoticed and unremarked.

Seated at a small table by myself, I ordered my supper, and half carelessly watched the others while it was being prepared. Whatever they might have been by birth or station, they seemed now all in the very narrowest circumstances. Threadbare coats and broken boots, worn hats and gloveless hands, bespoke their condition; nor could all the swagger of manner, or pretentious display of a ribbon or a cross, cover over the evidences of real poverty that oppressed them.

Had I noticed these signs earlier, I should certainly have restricted myself to a meal more befitting the place and its occupants. The humble suppers I saw around me of bread and cheese now shocked me at what might well appear display on my part; and had there been time to correct my error, I should gladly have done so. It was, however, too late. Already had the landlord carried in a silver tureen of soup, and set it before me; and the tall neck of a champagne bottle rose amidst the mimic icebergs at my side.

The others took no pains to hide their astonishment at all this; they stood in knots and groups about, with eyes directed full upon me, and as evidently made me the subject of their remarks. I could perceive that the landlord was far from being at his ease, and that all his endeavors were employed either to conceal from me these demonstrations, or to give them some harmless interpretation.

“You have travelled, sir, and know well what foreigners are,” said he, in a whisper; “and although all these are gentlemen by birth, from one misfortune or other they are a bit down in the world now, and they look with jealousy at any one better off than themselves.”

“Foreigners are usually better bred than to exhibit such feelings,” said I.

“Nor would they, perhaps, sir, if at home and in prosperity; but so many are ruined now by wars and revolutions – so many banished and exiled – that one ought to make large allowances for their tempers. That old man yonder, for instance, was a duke somewhere in Brittany; and the thin, tall one, that is gesticulating with his stick, served as colonel in the bodyguard of the King of France. And there, next the fire, – you see he has taken off a kind of smock-frock and is drying it at the blaze, – that is a Pomeranian count who owned a principality once, they tell me.”

“He looks very poor now; what means of support has he?”

“None, I believe, sir; he was bred to nothing, and can neither teach drawing, nor music, nor the sword-exercise, like Frenchmen or Italians; and the consequence is, that he actually – you ‘ll not believe it, but it is true, notwithstanding – he actually sweeps a crossing at Cheapside for his living.”

I started, as he said this, as if I had been stung by a reptile. For a moment I was convinced that the speech was a designed insult. I thought that the very expression of his eyes as he turned them on me was malignant. It was all I could do not to resent the insolence; but I restrained myself and was silent.

“Heaven knows,” continued he, “if he have eaten once to-day.”

“Do you think,” said I, “it would be possible to induce him to join me at supper, – I mean, could it be managed without offence?”

“Egad! I should say so, sir, and easily enough, too. These poor fellows have gone through too much to carry any excess of pride about with them.”

“Would you undertake the office, then?” asked I.