Chapter XVIII: Introduction: To the Second Volume (2)

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

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

'Ere man's corruptions made him wretched, he
Was born most noble, who was born most free.'
--Otway.

So thought young Debouchette; for a more wild and giddy fellow.in early life has seldom figured among the medium order of society. Whether the mother of the Cyprians was really honoured with the ceremony of the ritual, I have no means of knowing," said Crony; "but I well remember the lady, before these her beauteous daughters had trodden the slippery paths of pleasure: there was a something about her that is undefinable in language, but conveys to the mind impressions of no very pure principles of morality; a roving eye, salacious person, and swaggering carriage, with a most inviting condescension, always particularized the elder silk-stocking grafter of Chelsea, while yet the fair offspring of her house were lisping infants, innocent and beautiful as playful lambs. Debouchette himself was a right jolly fellow, careless of domestic ~40~~happiness, and very fond of his bottle; and indeed that was excusable, as during a long period of his life he was concerned in the wine trade. To the conduct and instructions of the mother the daughters are indebted for their present share of notoriety, with all the attendant infamy that attaches itself to Harriette and her sisters:--and this perhaps is the reason why Mrs. Rochford, alias Harriette Wilson, so liberally eulogises, in her Memoirs, a parent whose purity of principle is so much in accordance with the exquisite delicacy of her accomplished daughter. As the girls grew up, they were employed, Amy and Harriette, at their mother's occupation, the grafting of silk stockings, while the junior branches of the family were operative clear starchers, as the old board over the parlour window used to signify, which Brummel would facetiously translate into getters up of fine linen, when Petersham did him the honour of driving him past the door, that he might give his opinion upon the rising merits of the family, who, like fragrant exotics, were always placed at the window by their judicious parent, to excite the attention of the curious. But, allons" said Crony, "we shall be late at the carnival, and I would not miss the treat of such an assemblage for the honour of knighthood."

A very few minutes brought Transit, Eglantine, Crony, and myself, within the vortex of this most seductive scene. Waltzing was the order of the night--

"Endearing waltz! to thy more melting tune
Bow Irish jig and ancient rigadoon;
Scotch reels avaunt! and country dance forego
Your future claims to each fantastic toe.
Waltz--Waltz alone both legs and arms demands,
Liberal of feet and lavish of her hands.
Hands, which may freely range in public sight,
Where ne'er before--but--pray 'put out the light.'"

A coruscation of bright eyes and beauteous forms shed a halo of delight around, that must have warmed the cyprian's ball ~41~~the heart and animated the pulse of the coldest stoic in Christendom. The specious M. C, General O'M***a, introduced us in his best style, quickly bowing each of us into the graces of some fascinating fair, than whom

"Not Cleopatra on her galley's deck
Display'd so much of leg or more of neck."

For myself, I had the special honour of being engaged to the Honourable Mrs. J-- C******y, otherwise Padden, who, whatever may have been her origin,{2} has certainly acquired the ease and elegance of

2 Mrs. Padden is said to have been originally a servant-maid
at Plymouth, and the victim of early seduction. When very
young,

coming to London with her infant in search of a Captain D----- in the D--------e Militia, her first but inconstant swain, chance threw her in her abandoned condition into the way of Colonel C-----, who was much interested by her tale of sorrow, and more perhaps by her then lovely person, to obtain possession of which, he took a house for her, furnished it, and (as the phrase is) _set her up_. How long the duke's _aide-de-camp_ continued the favourite lover is not of any consequence; but both parties are known to have been capricious in _affaires de cour_. Her next acknowledged protector was the light-hearted George D-----d, then a great gun in the fashionable world: to him succeeded an _amorous thane_, the Irish Earl of F-----e; and when his lordship, satiated by possession, withdrew his eccentric countenance, Lord Mo--f--d succeeded to the vacant couch. The Venetian masquerade is said to have produced a long carnival to this _belle brunette_, who seldom kept _Lent_; and who hero met, for the first time, a now noble Marquess, then Lord Y--------, to whose liberality she was for some time indebted for a very splendid establishment; but the precarious existence of such connexions is proverbial, and Mrs. Padden has certainly had her share of fatal experience. Her next paramour was a diamond of the first water, but no star, a certain dashing jeweller, Mr. C-----, whose charmer she continued only until kind fortune threw in her way her present constant Jack. With the hoy-day of the blood, the fickleness of the heart ceases; and Mrs. Padden is now in the "sear o' the leaf," and somewhat _passee_ with the town. It does therefore display good judgment in the lady to endeavour, by every attention and correct conduct, to preserve an attachment that has now existed for some considerable time. ~42~~Indeed it is hardly possible to find a more conversational or attractive woman, or one less free from the vulgarity which usually accompanies ladies of her caste. With this fair I danced a waltz, and then danced off to my friend Crony, who had been excused a display of agility on the score of age, and from whom I anticipated some interesting anecdotes of the surrounding stars. (See Plate.)

The Montagues, five sisters, all fine women, and celebrated as the stars of Erin, shone forth on this occasion with no diminished ray of their accustomed brilliancy; Mrs. Drummond, otherwise H--n Dr--y Ba--y, Me--t--o, or Bulkly, the last being the only legal _cognomen_ of the fair, led the way, followed by Maria Cross, otherwise Latouche, Matilda Chatterton, Isabella Cummins, and Amelia Hamilton, all ladies of high character in the court of Cytherea, whose amours, were I to attempt them, would exceed in volumes, if not in interest, the chronicles of their native isle. Among the most interesting of the fairy group was the beautiful Louisa Rowley, since married to Lord L**c**les, and that charming little rosebud, the captivating Josephine, who, although a mere child, was introduced under the special protection of the celebrated Mr. B***, who has since been completely duped by the little _intriguante_, as also was hep second lover Lord p********? who succeeded in the lady's favour afterwards; but from whom she fled to Lord H****t, since whose death, an event which occurred in Paris, I hear she has reformed, and is now following the example of an elder sister, by preparing herself for the stage. "Who is that dashing looking brunette in the turban, that is just entering the room?" inquired Transit, who appeared to be mightily taken with the fair incognita. "That lady, with the mahogany skin and _piquant_ appearance, is the favourite mistress of the poor Duke of Ma**b****h," responded Crony, "and is no other than ~43~~the celebrated Poll-----Pshaw! everybody has heard of the Queen of the Amazons, a title given to the lady, in honour, as I suppose, of his grace's fighting ancestor. Poll is said to be a great voluptuary; but at any rate she cannot be very extravagant, that is, if she draws all her resources from her protector's present purse. Do you observe that _jolie dame_ yonder sitting under the orchestra? that is the well-known Nelly Mansell, of Crawford-street, called the _old Pomona_, from the richness of her _first fruits_. Nelly has managed her affairs with no trifling share of prudence, and although in the decline of life, she is by no means in declining circumstances. H**re the banker married her niece, and the aunt's cash-account is said to be a very comfortable expectancy.

The _elegante_ waltzing so _luxuriantly_ with H------ B------ H------ is the lovely Emma Richardson, sometime since called Standish or Davison, a Cytherean of the very first order, and the sister planet to the equally charming Ellen Hanbury, otherwise Bl-----g-----ve, constellations of the utmost brilliancy, very uncertain in their appearance, and equally so, if report speaks truth, in their attachment to either Jupiter, Mars, Vulcan, or Apollo. The first is denominated _Venus Mendicant_, from her always pleading poverty to her suitors, and thus artfully increasing their generosity towards her. Sister Ellen has obtained the appellation of _Venus Callipyga_, from her elegant form and generally half-draped appearance in public. Do you perceive the swarthy amazon waddling along yonder, whom the old Earl of W-----d appears to be eyeing with no little anticipation of delight? that is a lady with a very ancient and most fish-like flavor, odoriferous in person as the oily female Esquimaux, or the more _fragrant_ feminine inhabitants of Russian Tartary and the Crimea; she has with some of her admirers obtained the name of _Dolly Drinkwater_, from her known dislike to any ~44~~thing _stronger_ than pure French Brandy. Her present travelling cognomen is Mrs. Sp**c*r, otherwise _Black Moll_; and a wag of the day, who is rather notorious for the variety of his taste, has recently insisted upon re-christening her by the _attractive nom de guerre_ of _Nux Vomica_. The little goddess of the golden locks, dancing with a well-known _roue_, is Fanny My*rs, a very efficient partner in the dance, and if report be true not less engaging in the sacred mysteries of Cytherea." It would fill the ample page to relate the varied anecdote with which Crony illustrated, as he proceeded to describe the Scyllo and Charybdes of the unwary and the gay; who in their voyage through life are lured by the syrens of sweet voice, and the Pyrrhas of sweet lip, the Cleopatras of modern times, the conquerors of hearts, and the voluptuous rioters in pleasurable excesses, of those of whom Byron has sung,--

"Round all the confines of the yielding waist,
The strangest hand may wander undisplaced.
* * *
Till some might marvel with the modest Turk,
If 'nothing follows all this palming work.'"

To draw all the portraits who figured in the fascinating scene of gay delight would be a task of almost equal magnitude with the Herculean labours, and one which in attempting, I fear some of my readers may censure me for already dwelling too long upon: but let them remember, I am a professed painter of real life, not the inventor or promoter of these delectable _nocte Attici_ and depraved orgies; that in faithfully narrating scenes and describing character, the object of the author and artist is to show up vice in all its native deformity; that being known, it may be avoided, and being exposed, despised. But I must crave permission to extend my notice of the Cythereans to a few more characters, ere yet the mirth-inspiring notes of the band have ceased to vibrate, or the graceful ~45~~fair ones to trip it lightly on fantastic toe; this done, I shall perhaps take a peep into the supper-room, drink Champagne, and pick the wing of a chicken while I whisper a few soft syllables into the ear of the nearest _elegante_; and then--gentle reader, start not--then-----

"The breast thus _publicly_ resign'd to man
In _private_ may resist him--if it can."

But here the curtain shall drop upon all the fairy sirens who lead the young heart captive in their silken chains; and the _daughters of pleasure_ and the _sons of profligacy_ may practise the mysteries of Cytherea in private, undisturbed by the pen of the satirist or the pencil of the humorist.

"The scandalizing group in close conference in the left-hand corner, behind Lord William Lenox and another dashing ensign in the guards, is composed," said Crony, "of Mrs. Nixon, the _ci-devant_ Mrs. Baring, Nugent's old.flame, Mrs. Christopher Harrison, the two sisters, Mesdames Gardner and Peters, and the well-known Kitty Stock, all minor constellations, mostly on the decline, and hence full of envious jealousy at the attention paid by the beaux to the more attractive charms of the newly discovered planets, the younger sisterhood of the convent." "If we could but get near enough to overhear their conversation," said Transit, "we should, no doubt, obtain possession of a few rich anecdotes of the Paphians and their paramours." "I have already enough of the latter," said I, "to fill a dozen albums, without descending to the meanness of becoming a listener. Amorous follies are the least censurable of the sins of men, when they are confined to professed courtezans. The heartless conduct of the systematic seducer demands indignation; but the trifling peccadillos of the sons of fortune and the stars of fashion may be passed by, without any serious personal exposure, since _time, ~46~~cash, and constitution are the three practising physicians_ who generally effect a radical cure, without the aid of the satirist. But come, Crony, you must give us the _nom de guerre_ of the last-mentioned belles: you have hitherto distinguished all the Cythereans by some eccentric appellation; let us therefore have the list complete." "By all means, gentlemen," replied the old beau: "if I must stand godfather to the whole fraternity of Cyprians, I think I ought, at least, to have free access to every convent in Christendom; but I must refer to my tablets, for I keep a regular entry of all the new appearances, or I should never remember half their designations. Mrs. N------has the harmonious appellation of the _mocking bird_, from her silly habit of repeating every word you address to her. Mrs. B------is called the _New Perdita_, from a royal conquest she once made, but which we have only her own authority for believing; at any rate, she is known to be fond of a _New-gent_, and the title may on that account be fairly her own. Mrs. C-----H------ has the honour of being distinguished by the appropriate name of the _Napoleon Venus_, from the similarity of her contour with the countenance of that great man.

The two sisters, Mesdames G------and P------, are well known by the flattering distinctions of the red and the black Swan, from the colour of their hair and the stateliness of their carriage; and Kitty Stock has the poetical cognomen of _blue-eyed Lima_. Now, you have nearly the whole vocabulary of love's votaries," said old Crony; "and be sure, young gentlemen, you profit by the precepts of experience; for not one of these frail fair ones but in her time has made as many conquests as Wellington, and caused perhaps as much devastation among the sons of men as any hero in the world. But a new light breaks in upon us," said Crony, "in the person of Mrs. Simmons, the _Tartar sultana_, whom you may observe conversing with Lords H------d and P-----m in the centre of the room. Poor N--g--nt the cyprian's ball ~47~~will long remember her prowess in battle, when the strength of her passion had nearly brought matters to a point, and that not a very tender one; but the swain cut the affair in good time, or might have been cruelly cut himself. Messrs. H--h and R--s--w could also give some affecting descriptions of the Tartar sultana's rage when armed with jealousy or resentment. Her residence, No. 30, B--k--r-street, has long been celebrated as the three x x x; a name probably given to it by some spark who found the sultana three times more cross than even common report had stated her to be." The night was now fast wearing away, when Crony again directed our attention to the right-hand corner of the room, where, just under the orchestra, appeared the elder sister of the notorious Harriette Wilson seated, and in close conversation with the Milesian M. C, O'M--------a, who, according to his usual custom, was dispensing his entertaining anecdotes of all his acquaintance who graced the present scene. "That is Amy Campbell, otherwise Sydenham, &e., &c, but now legally Bochsa, of whom Harriette has since told so many agreeable stories relative to the black puddings and Argyle; however, considerable suspicion attaches itself to Harriette's anecdotes of her elder sister, particularly as she herself admits they were not very good friends, and Harriette never would forgive Amy for seducing the Duke of Argyle from his allegiance to her. Mrs. Campbell was for some years the favourite sultana of his grace, and has a son by him, a fine boy, now about twelve years of age, who goes by the family name, and for whose support the kind-hearted duke allows the mother a very handsome annuity. Amy is certainly a woman of considerable talent; a good musician, as might have been expected from her attachment to the harpist, and an excellent linguist, speaking the French, Spanish, and Italian languages with the greatest fluency. In her person she begins to exhibit the ravages of time, is somewhat _embonpoint_, with ~48~~dark hair and fine eyes, but rather of the keen order of countenance than the agreeable; and report says, that the Signior composer, amid his plurality of wives, never found a more difficult task to preserve the equilibrium of domestic harmony.

By the side of this fair one, arm in arm with a well-known bookseller, you may perceive Harriette Kochforte, alias Wilson, who, according to her own account, has had as many amours as the Grand Seignor can boast wives, and with just as little of affection in the _affaires de cour_ as his sublime highness, only with something more of publicity. Harriette gives the honour of her introduction into the mysteries of Cytherea to the Earl of Craven; but it is well known that a certain dashing solicitor's clerk then living in the neighbourhood of Chelsea, and near her amiable mamma's residence, first engrossed, her attention, and by whom she exhibited increasing symptoms of affection, which being properly engrafted on the person of the fair stockinger, in due time required a release from a practitioner of another profession; an innocent affair that now lies buried deep in an odd corner at the old churchyard at Chelsea, without a monumental stone or epitaph to point out the early virtues of the fair Cytherean. To this limb of the law succeeded the Honourable Be--1--y C------n, who was then too volatile and capricious to pay his devotions at any particular shrine for more than a week together. It was this cold neglect of the honourable's that has, perhaps, secured him from mention in her Memoirs; since Harriette never speaks of her beaux without giving the reader to suppose they were desperately in love with herself: then there was more of the dignified in an affair with an earl, and Madame Harriette has a great notion of preserving her consequence, although, it must be confessed, she has latterly shown the most perfect indifference to the preservation of character. The the cyprian's ball ~49~~circumstance which first gave Miss Wilson her great notoriety was the affair with the young Marquis of Worcester, then just _come out_, and a willing captive to her artful wiles. So successfully did she inveigle her noble swain, and so completely environ his heart, that in the fulness of his boyish adoration of the fair Cytherean, he executed in her favour a certain promise in writing, not a promise to pay, for that might have been of no consequence, nor a promise of settlement, nor a promise to protect, nothing so unsettled,--nothing less did the fair intriguante obtain than a full, clear, and definite promise of marriage, with a sufficient penalty thereunto attached to make the matter alarming and complete, with every appearance on his part to ratify the contract. In this state of things, information reached his Grace of B--f--t of his noble heir's intention, who not much relishing the intended honour, or perhaps doubting the permanency of his son's passion (for to question the purity of the lady was impossible), entered into a negotiation with Harriette, by which, on condition of her resigning the promise and pledging herself never to see the Marquis more on familiar terms, this disinterested woman was to receive eight hundred pounds per annum--so anxious was his grace to prevent a mes-alliance in his family. But, alas for Harriette! jealousy for once got the better of her love of gain; her pride was wounded to see a sister flirting with her affianced lord, and in a moment of irritation, she in a most unequivocal manner publicly asserted her right to his person: the gallant yielded, the bond was __null and void, the _promise burnt_, his grace relieved from the payment of eight hundred pounds per annum, and his son the Marquis, profiting by past experience, not so green as to renew the former obligation.

"My intention is not to pirate the lady's memoirs, and so rob her of the fair gain of her professional ~50~~experience," said Crony, when I mentioned these circumstances to him afterwards; "I only mean to supply certain trifling omissions in the biography of Harriette and her family, which the fair narrator has very modestly suppressed. It is but a few months since, that passing accidentally into Warwick-court, Holborn, to call upon an old friend, a navy lieutenant on half-pay, I thought I recognised the well-known superlative wig of the dandy Rochforte, thrust longitudinally forward from beneath the sash of a two pair of stairs window.--Can it be possible? thought I: and then again, I asked myself, why not? for the last time I saw him he was rusticating in Surrey, beating the balls about in _Banco Regis_; from which black place he did not escape without a little white-washing: however, he's a full Colonel of some unknown corps of South American Independents for all that, and was once in his life, although for a very short time, a full Cornet, in Lincoln Stanhope's regiment, the 17th dragoons, I think it was, and has never clipped his mustachios since, one would imagine, by their length and ferocious appearance. To be brief, I had scarcely placed my glass into the orifice before my imperfect vision, when Harriette appeared at the adjoining window, and instantly recognizing an old acquaintance, invited me up stairs. 'Times are a little changed,' said she, 'Mr. Crony, since last we met:' 'True, madam,' I responded; and then to cheer the belle a little, I added, 'but not persons, I perceive, for you are looking as young and as attractive as ever.' The compliment did not seem to please the Colonel in the wig, who turned round, looked frowningly, and then twirled the dexter side of his lip wing into a perfect circle. It is not possible that this thing can affect jealousy of such a woman as Harriette? thought I: so proceeded with our conversation: and he shortly resumed his polite amusement of spitting upon the children who were ~51~~playing marbles beneath his window. 'I am really married to that monster, yonder,' said she, in an under tone: 'How do you like my choice?' 'I am not old enough in the gentleman's acquaintance to hazard an opinion on his merits,' quoth I; 'but you are a woman of experience, belle Harriette, and should be a good judge of male bipeds, although I cannot say much in favour of your military taste.' 'And you was always a _quiz_, Crony,' retorted belle Harriette: 'remember my sister Mary, who is now Mrs. Bochsa,{3} how you used to annoy her about her gaudy style of dressing, when we used to foot it at Chelsea:--but I 3 There were in all eight sisters of the Debouchettes, and three brothers; but only one of the latter is living. Of the girls, Amy is now Mrs. Bochsa; Mary, married to a nephew of Sir Richard Bo****hs, a great Irish contractor; Harriette, actually married to Cornet Rochforte; Fanny expired in the _holy keeping_ of the present Marquis of H-----; Sophia has been raised to the peerage, by the style and title of Lady B-----k, and by her subsequent conduct well deserves her elevation; Julia, an affectionate girl, clung to the house of Coventry through poor Tom's days of adversity, and died early, leaving some unprotected orphans; Charlotte and Louisa, younger sisters, the first now about eighteen and very beautiful, although a little lame, have been educated and brought up by their elder sister, the Baroness, and are by her intended for the church--vestals for Hymen's altar: at any rate, I hope they will escape the _sacrifices of Cytherea_. Harriette is now about forty years of age: she was, when at her zenith, always celebrated rather for her tact in love affairs, and her talent at invention, than the soft engaging qualifications of the frail fair, which fascinate the eye and lead the heart captive with delight: her conversational powers were admirable; but her temper was outrageous, with a natural inclination to the satirical:--to sum up her merits at once, she was what a _connoisseur_ would have called a bold fine woman, rather than an engaging handsome one--more of the English Bellona than the _Venus de Medici_. Crony's account of the Round Room and belle Harriette's first views of publishing are, I have since learned, strictly correct. There is not a person mentioned in her Memoirs, or scarcely one of any note in the Court-guide, of whom she has at any time had the slightest knowledge, that have not been applied to repeatedly within the last three years, and received threats of exposure to compel them to submit to extortion. ~52~~want your assistance.' Egad, I dare say, I looked rather comical at this moment, for in truth I was somewhat alarmed at the last phrase. Harriette burst into a loud fit of laughter; the Colonel drew in his elegant wig, and deigned a smile; while I, involuntarily forcing my hand into the pocket of my inexpressibles, carefully drove the few sovereigns I had up into one corner, fearing the belle Harriette had a mighty notion of laying strong siege to them: in this, however, I was agreeably disappointed; for recovering herself, she acknowledged she had perceived my embarrassment, but assured me I need be under no alarm on this occasion, as, at present, she only wanted to borrow a few--ideas: what a relief the last short word afforded! 'I have been writing some sketches of my life,' said she, 'and am going to publish: give me your opinion, Crony, upon its merits;' and without more ceremony, she thrust a little packet of papers into my hand, headed 'Sketches in the Round Room at the Opera House;' in which all the characters of the Opera frequenters were tolerably well drawn, nor was the dialogue deficient in spirit; but the titles were all fictitious--such as my Lord Red Head, for the Marquess of H-----d, Lord Pensiveham, for P------m, and so on to the end of the chapter. Having glanced through the contents, I recommended her to Colburn, as the universal speculator in paper and print; but his highness is playing _magnifico_, a la Murray, in his new mansion, it would seem; for he, as I have since learned, refused to publish. At length, after trying Allman and others, belle Harriette hit upon Stockdale, who having made some bad hits in his time, thought a little _courtesanish_ scandal could not make bad worse. Under his superintendence real names were substituted for the fictitious; and it is said, that the choice notes of the lady are interwoven and extended, connected and illustrated, by the same elegant Apollo who used to write love letters for Mary Ann, and ~58~~love epistles to half a thousand, including Bang and the Bantum, in the dark refectory of the celebrated mother Wood, the Lady of the Priory, or Lisle-street Convent." "If such is the case, 'how are the mighty fallen!'" said I.------But let us return to the ball-room. As the night advanced, a few more stars made their appearance in the firmament of beauty; among these, Crony pointed out some of the demirespectables, attracted thither either by curiosity or the force of old habit: among these was Charles Wy--h--m's bit of rue, that herb of grace, the once beautiful Mrs. Ho--g--s, since closely connected with the whiskered Lord P-----, to whose brother, the Honourable F------g, her daughter, the elegant Miss W--------n, had the good fortune to be early married. In the same group appeared another star of no mean attraction, the Honourable Mrs. L-----g, whose present husband underwent the ordeal of a crim. con. trial to obtain her person. 'Par nobile fratum,' the world may well say of the brothers, P------ and L-----g; while F--------y, with all his eccentricities, has the credit of being a very good husband. Three little affected mortals, the Misses St--ts, Crony introduced by the name of the pretenders, from the assumed modesty and great secrecy with which they carry on their amours. '_Pas a pas on va bien loin_,' says the old French proverb, and rightly too," remarked our ancient; "for if you boys had not brought me here, I should never have known the extent of my experience, or have attempted to calculate the number of my female acquaintances." In the supper-room, which opened at four o'clock in the morning, Waud had spread forth a banquet every way worthy the occasion: a profuse display of the choicest viands of the season and delicacies of the most costly character graced the splendid board, where the rich juice of the grape, and the inviting ripeness of the dessert, were only equalled by the voluptuous votaries who ~54~~surrounded the repast. It was now that ceremony and the cold restraint of well regulated society were banished, by the free circulation of the glass. The eye of love shot forth the electric flash which animates the heart of young desire, lip met lip, and the soft cheek of violet beauty pressed the stubble down of manliness. Then, while the snowy orbs of nature undisguised heaved like old ocean with a circling swell, the amorous lover palmed the melting fair, and led her forth to where shame-faced Aurora, with her virgin gray, the blue-eyed herald of the golden morn, might hope in vain to draw aside the curtain and penetrate the mysteries of Cytherea. And now, gentle reader, be ye of the hardy sex, who dare the glories of the healthful chase and haunt the peopled stream of gay delight--or of that lovely race, from which alone man's earthly joys arise, the soft-skinned conquerors of hearts--be ye prudes or stoics, chaste as virgin gold, or cold as alpine snow--confess that I have strictly kept my promise here, nor strayed aside in all my wanderings among the daughters of pleasure, to give pain to worthy bosoms or offend the ear of nicest modesty. Pity for the unfortunate, and respect for the feelings of the relatives of the vicious and the dissolute, has prevented the insertion of many anecdotes, with which Crony illustrated his sketches of character. Enough, it is presumed, has been done to show vice in all its native deformity, without wounding the ear by one immoral or indelicate expression. For the unhappy fair ones who form the principal portraits, it should be remembered they have been selected from those only who are notorious, as belles of the first order, stars of fashion, and if not something indebted to fortune they would have escaped enrolment here. When beauty and poverty are allied, it must too often fall a victim to the eager eye of roving lust; for, even to the titled ~55~~profligate, beauty, when arrayed in a simple garb of spotless chastity, seems

"----Fairer she
In innocence and homespun vestments spread,
Than if cerulean sapphires at her ears
Shone pendent, or a precious diamond cross
Heaved gently on her panting bosom white.

But let the frail remember, that the allurements of wealth and the blandishments of equipage fall off with possession and satiety; to the force of novelty succeeds the baseness of desertion. For a short time, the fallen one is fed like the silk-worm upon the fragrant mulberry leaf, and when she has spun her yellow web of silken attraction, sinks into decay, a common chrysalis, shakes her trembling and emaciated wings in hopeless agony, and then flutters and droops, till death steps in and relieves her from an accumulation of miseries, ere yet the transient summer of youth has passed over her devoted head.

Bernard Blackmantle.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF LAUGHTER;

OR, MR PUNCH IN ALL HIS GLORY.

Thoughts on the Philosophy of Laughter--Bernard Blackmantle
in Search of a Wife--First Visit to the Marigold Family--
Sketches of the Alderman, his Lady, and Daughter--Anecdote
of John Liston, and the Citizen's Dinner Party--Of the
Immortal Mr. Punch--Some Account of the Great Actor--A
Street Scene, sketched from the Life--The Wooden Drama--The
True Sublime.

~56~~

You may sing of old Thespis, who first in a cart,
To the jolly god Bacchus enacted a part;
Miss Thalia, or Mrs. Melpomene praise,
Or to light-heel'd Terpsichore offer your lays.
But pray what are these, bind them all in a bunch,
Compared to the acting of Signor Punch?
Of Garrick, or Palmer, or Kemble, or Cooke,
Your moderns may whine, or on each write a book;
Or Mathews, or Munden, or Fawcett, suppose
They could once lead the town as they pleased by the nose;
A fig for such actors! tied all in a bunch,
Mere mortals compared to old deified Punch.
Not Chester can charm us, nor Foote with her smile,
Like the first blush of summer, our bosoms beguile,
Half so well, or so merrily drive caro away,
As old Punch with his Judy in amorous play.
Kean, Young, and Macready, though thought very good,
Have heads, it is true, but then they're not of wood.

~57~~

Be ye ever so dull, full of spleen or ennui,
Mighty Punch can enliven your spirits with glee.
Not honest Jack Harley, or Liston's rum mug
Can produce half the fun of his juggity-jug:
For a right hearty laugh, tie thorn all in a bunch,
Not an actor among them like Signor Punch.

--Bernard Blackmantle.

It was the advice of the prophet Tiresias to Menippus, who had travelled over the terrestrial globe fend descended into the infernal regions in search of content, to be merry and wise;

"To laugh at all the busy farce of state,
Employ the vacant hour in mirth and jest."

"The merrier the heart the longer the life," says Burton in his Anatomy of Melancholy. Mirth is the principal of the three Salernitan doctors, Dr. Merryman, Dr. Diet, and Dr. Quiet. The nepenthes of Homer, the bowl of Retenus, and the girdle of Venus, are only the ancient types of liveliness and mirth, by the free use of which the mind is dispossessed of dulness, and the cankerworm of care destroyed. Seneca calls the happiness of wealth bracteata felicitas, tinfoiled happiness, and infelix felicitas, an unhappy felicity. A poor man drinks out of a wooden dish, and eats his hearty meal with a wooden spoon; while the rich man, with a languid appetite, picks his dainties with a silver fork from plates of gold--but, in auro bibitur venenum; the one rinds health and happiness in his pottered jug, while the other sips disease and poison from his jewelled cup. A good laugh is worth a guinea, (to him who can afford to pay for it) at any time; but it is best enjoyed when it comes gratuitously and unexpectedly, and breaks in upon us like the radiant beams of a summer sun forcing its way through the misty veil of an inland fog.

I had been paying a morning visit to a wealthy ~58~~citizen, Mr. Alderman Marigold, and family, at the express desire of my father, who had previously introduced me for the purpose of fixing my--affection --tush--no, my attention, to the very weighty merits of Miss Biddy Marigold, spinster; a spoiled child, without personal, but with very powerful attractions to a poor Colebs. Two hours' hard fighting with the alderman had just enabled me to retreat from the persecution of being compelled to give an opinion upon the numerous bubble companies of the time, without understanding more than the title of either; to this succeeded the tiresome pertinacity of Mrs. Marigold's questions relative to the movements, ondits, and fashionable frivolities westward, until, fairly wearied out and disgusted, I sat down a lion exhausted, in the window seat, heartily wishing myself like Liston{1} safe out of purgatory; when the sound

1 John Liston, the comedian, is in private life not less
conspicuous for finished pleasantry and superior manners
than he is on the stage for broad humour; but nothing can
offend the actor more than an invitation given merely in the
expectation of his displaying at table some of his
professional excellences. John had, on one occasion,
accepted an invitation to dine with a wealthy citizen en
famille; the repast over--the wine had circulated--a snug
friend proposed the health of Mr. Liston; and John returned
thanks with as much dignity as a minister of state eating
white bait at Blackwall with the worshipful company of
fishmongers. Then came the amiable civilities of the lady of
the mansion, evidently intended to ingratiate herself with
the actor, the better to secure his assent to her request,
but not a muscle of the comedian gave the least
encouragement. The little citizens, who were huddled round
their mamma, and had been staring at the actor in anxious
expectation, were growing very impatient. The eldest boy had
already recited young Norval's speech to Lady Douglas, by
way of prologue; but the actor still continued mute, never
for a moment unbending to the smirking encourage-ment of his
hostess, or the jolly laugh-exciting reminiscences of his
ruby-faced host; as, for instance, "Lord, Mr. Liston, what a
funny figure you looked t'other night in Moll Flaggon!" or,
"How you made thorn laugh in Tony Lumpkin! and then what a
fright you was in Mrs. Cheshire. Couldn't you give us a
touch just now?" "Ay, do, Mr. Liston, pray do," vociferated
a dozen tongues at once, including mamma, the little misses
and mastery. "The children have been kept up two hours later
than usual on purpose," said the lady mother. "Ay, come, my
good fellow," reiterated the cit, "take another glass, and
then give us some-thing funny to amuse the young ones." This
was the finishing blow to Liston's offended dignity--to be
invited to dinner by a fat fleshmonger, merely to amuse his
uncultivated cubs, was too much for the nervous system of
the comedian to bear; but how to retreat?" I have it,"
thought John, "by the cut direct;" rising and bowing,
therefore, to the company, as if intending to yield to their
entreaties, he begged permission to retire to make some
little arrangement in his dress, to personate Vanish; when,
leaving them in the most anxious expectation for more than
half an hour, on ringing the bell, they learned from the
servant that Mr. Liston had suddenly Vanished by the street-
door, and was, of course, never seen in that direction more.

~59~~of a cracked trumpet in the street arrested my attention. "I vonder vat that ere hinstrument can mean, my dear!" said Mrs. Alderman Marigold, (advancing to the window with eager curiosity). "It's wery likely some fire company's men marching to a bean-feast, or a freemason's funeral obscenities," replied the alderman. When another blast greeted our ears with a few notes of "See the Conquering Hero comes," "La, mamma," whined out Miss Biddy Marigold, "I declare, it's that filthy fellow Punch coming afore our vindow vith his imperence; I prognosticated how it voud be, ven the alderman patronised him last veek by throwing avay a whole shilling upon his fooleries." "You've no taste for fun, Biddy," replied the alderman; at the same time making his daughter and myself a substitute for crutches, by resting a hand upon each shoulder. "I never laid out a shilling better in the whole course of my life. A good laugh beats all the French medicine, and drives the gout out at the great toe. I mean to pension Mr. Punch at a shilling a veek to squeak before my vindow of a Saturday, in preference to paying six guineas for a ~60~~box to hear all that outlandish squeaking at the hopera." "La, pa, how ungenteel!" said Miss Biddy; "I declare you're bringing quite a new-sense to all the square, vat vith your hurdy-gurdy vonien, French true-baw-dears, and barrel organ-grinders, nobody has no peace not at all in the neighbourhood." During this elegant colloquy, the immortal Mr. Punch had reared his chequered theatre upon the pavement opposite, the confederate showman had concealed himself beneath the woollen drapery, and the Italian comedian had just commenced his merry note of preparation by squeaking some of those little snatches of tunes, which act with talismanic power upon the locomotive faculties of all the peripatetics within hearing, attracting everybody to the travelling stage, young and old, gentle and simple; all the crowd seem as if magic chained them to the spot, and each face exhibits as much anxiety, and the mind, no doubt, anticipates as much or more delight, than if they were assembled to see Charles Kemble, Young, and Macready, all three acting in one fine tragedy. There is something so indescribably odd and ridiculous about the whole paraphernalia of Mr. Punch, that we are irresistibly compelled to acknowledge the superiority of the lignum vito Roscius over the histrionic corps of mere flesh and blood. The eccentricity of this immortal personage, his foreign, funny dialogue, the whim and strange conceit exhibited in his wooden drama, the gratuitous display, and the unrestricted laugh he affords--all combine to make Mr. Punch the most popular performer in the world. Of Italian origin, he has been so long domiciled in England, that he may now be considered naturalized by common consent. Indeed, I much question, if a greater misfortune could befall the country, than the removal or suppression of Mr. Punch and his laugh-provoking drolleries:--it would be considered a national calamity; but Mirth protect ~61~~us from such a terrible mishap! Another sound from an old cracked trumpet, something resembling a few notes of "Arm, Arm, ye Brave," and an accompaniment by the great actor himself of a few more "tut, tut, tutura, lura, lu's," in his own original style, have now raised excitement to the highest pitch of expectation. The half inflated lungs of the alderman expand by anticipation, and his full foggy breathings upon the window-glass have already compelled me more than once to use my handkerchief to clear away the mist. The assembled group waiting the commencement of his adventures, now demands my notice. What a scene for my friend Transit! I shall endeavour to depict it for him. The steady looking old gentleman in the fire-shovel clerical castor, how sagaciously he leers round about him to see if he is likely to be recognised! not a countenance to whom he is known; he smiles with self-complacency at the treat he is about to enjoy; plants himself in a respectable doorway, for three reasons; first, the advantage from the rise of the step increasing his altitude; second, the security of his pockets from attacks behind; and third, the pretence, should any Goth to whom he is known, observe him enjoying the scene, that he is just about to enter the house, and has merely been detained there by accident. Excellent apologist!--how ridiculous!--Excessive delicacy, avaunt! give me a glorious laugh, and "throw (affectation) to the dogs; I'll have none of it." Now the farce begins: up starts the immortal hero himself, and makes his bow; a simultaneous display of "broad grins" welcomes his felicitous entree; and for a few seconds the scene resembles the appearance of a popular election candidate, Sir Francis Burdett, or his colleague, little Cam Hobhouse, on the hustings in Covent Garden; nothing is heard but one deafening shout of clamorous approbation. Observe the butcher's boy has stopped his ~62~~horse to witness the fun, spite of the despairing cook who waits the promised joint; and the jolly lamp-lighter, laughing hysterically on the top of his ladder, is pouring the oil from his can down the backs and into the pockets of the passengers beneath, instead of recruiting the parish-lamp, while the sufferers are too much interested in the exhibition to feel the trickling of the greasy fluid. The baker, careless of the expectant owner's hot dinner, laughs away the time until the pie is quite cold; and the blushing little servant-maid is exercising two faculties at once, enjoying the frolics of Signor Punch, and inventing some plausible excuse for her delay upon an expeditious errand. How closely the weather-beaten tar yonder clasps his girl's waist! every amorous joke of Signor Punch tells admirably with him; till, between laughing and pressing, Poll is at last compelled to cry out for breath, when Jack only squeezes her the closer, and with a roaring laugh vociferates, "My toplights! what the devil will that fellow Punch do next, Poll?" The milkman grins unheedful of the cur who is helping himself from out his pail; and even the heavy-laden porter, sweating under a load of merchandise, heaves up his shoulders with laughter, until the ponderous bale of goods shakes in the air like a rocking-stone. (See Plate.) Inimitable actor! glorious Signor Punch! show me among the whole of the dramatis persona in the patent or provincial theatres, a single performer who can compete with the mighty wooden Roscius.

The alderman's eulogium on Mr. Punch was superlatively good. "I love a comedy, Mr. Blackmantle," said he, "better than a tragedy, because it makes one laugh; and next to good eating, a hearty laugh is most desirable. Then I love a farce still better than a comedy, because that is more provokingly merry, or broader as the critics have it; then, sir, a pantomime beats both comedy and ~63~~farce hollow; there's such lots of fun and shouts of laughter to be enjoyed in that from the beginning to the end. But, sir, there's one performance that eclipses all these, tragedy, comedy, farce, and pantomime put together, and that is Mister Punch--for a right-down, jolly, split-my-side burst of laughter, he's the fellow; name me any actor or author that can excite the risibilities of the multitude, or please all ages, orders, and conditions, like the squeaking pipe and mad waggeries of that immortal, merry-faced itinerant. If any man will tell me that he possesses genius, or the mellow affections, and that he can pass Punch,

'Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind;'