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PAUL CLIFFORD, Volume 4.

By Edward Bulwer Lytton



CHAPTER XVI.

Whackum. My dear rogues, dear boys, Bluster and Dingboy! you
are the bravest fellows that ever scoured yet!--SUADWELL:
Scourers.

Cato, the Thessalian, was wont to say that some things may be
done unjustly, that many things may be done justly.--LORD BACON
(being a, justification of every rascality).

Although our three worthies had taken unto themselves a splendid lodging
in Milsom Street, which, to please Ned, was over a hairdresser's shop,
yet, instead of returning thither, or repairing to such taverns as might
seem best befitting their fashion and garb, they struck at once from the
gay parts of the town, and tarried not till they reached a mean-looking
alehouse in a remote suburb.

The door was opened to them by an elderly lady; and Clifford, stalking
before his companions into an apartment at the back of the house, asked
if the other gentlemen were come yet.

"No," returned the dame. "Old Mr. Bags came in about ten minutes ago;
but hearing more work might be done, he went out again."

"Bring the lush and the pipes, old blone!" cried Ned, throwing himself on
a bench; "we are never at a loss for company!"

"You, indeed, never can be, who are always inseparably connected with the
object of your admiration," said Tomlin, son, dryly, and taking up an old
newspaper. Ned, who, though choleric, was a capital fellow, and could
bear a joke on himself, smiled, and drawing forth a little pair of
scissors, began trimming his nails.

"Curse me," said he, after a momentary silence, "if this is not a
devilish deal pleasanter than playing the fine gentleman in that great
room, with a rose in one's button-hole! What say you, Master Lovett?"

Clifford (as henceforth, despite his other aliases, we shall denominate
our hero), who had thrown himself at full length on a bench at the far
end of the room, and who seemed plunged into a sullen revery, now looked
up for a moment, and then, turning round and presenting the dorsal part
of his body to Long Ned, muttered, "Fish!"

"Harkye, Master Lovett!" said Long Ned, colouring. "I don't know what
has come over you of late; but I would have you to learn that gentlemen
are entitled to courtesy and polite behaviour; and so, d' ye see, if you
ride your high horse upon me, splice my extremities if I won't have
satisfaction!"

"Hist, man! be quiet," said Tomlinson, philosophically, snuffing the
candles,--

"'For companions to quarrel,
Is extremely immoral.'

"Don't you see that the captain is in a revery? What good man ever loves
to be interrupted in his meditations? Even Alfred the Great could not
bear it! Perhaps at this moment, with the true anxiety of a worthy
chief, the captain is designing something for our welfare!"

"Captain indeed!" muttered Long Ned, darting a wrathful look at Clifford,
who had not deigned to pay any attention to Mr. Pepper's threat; "for my
part I cannot conceive what was the matter with us when we chose this
green slip of the gallows-tree for our captain of the district. To be
sure, he did very well at first, and that robbery of the old lord was not
ill-planned; but lately--"

"Nay, nay," quoth Augustus, interrupting the gigantic grumbler; "the
nature of man is prone to discontent. Allow that our present design of
setting up the gay Lothario, and trying our chances at Bath for an
heiress, is owing as much to Lovett's promptitude as to our invention."

"And what good will come of it?" returned Ned, as he lighted his pipe;
"answer me that. Was I not dressed as fine as a lord, and did not I walk
three times up and down that great room without being a jot the better
for it?"

"Ah! but you know not how many secret conquests you may have made. You
cannot win a prize by looking upon it."

"Humph!" grunted Ned, applying himself discontentedly to the young
existence of his pipe.

"As for the captain's partner," renewed Tomlinson, who maliciously
delighted in exciting the jealousy of the handsome "tax-collector,"--for
that was the designation by which Augustus thought proper to style
himself and companions,--"I will turn Tory if she be not already half in
love with him; and did you hear the old gentleman who cut into our rubber
say what a fine fortune she had? Faith, Ned, it is lucky for us two that
we all agreed to go shares in our marriage speculations; I fancy the
worthy captain will think it a bad bargain for himself."

"I am not so sure of that, Mr. Tomlinson," said Long Ned, sourly eying
his comrade. "Some women may be caught by a smooth skin and a showy
manner; but real masculine beauty,--eyes, colour, and hair,--Mr.
Tomlinson, must ultimately make its way; so hand me the brandy, and cease
your jaw."

"Well, well," said Tomlinson, "I'll give you a toast,--'The prettiest
girl in England,' and that's Miss Brandon!"

"You shall give no such toast, sir!" said Clifford, starting from the
bench. "What the devil is Miss Brandon to you? And now, Ned," seeing
that the tall hero looked on him with an unfavourable aspect, "here's my
hand; forgive me if I was uncivil. Tomlinson will tell you, in a maxim,
men are changeable. Here's to your health; and it shall not be my fault,
gentlemen, if we have not a merry evening!"

This speech, short as it was, met with great applause from the two
friends; and Clifford, as president, stationed himself in a huge chair at
the head of the table. Scarcely had he assumed this dignity, before the
door opened, and half-a-dozen of the gentlemen confederates trooped
somewhat noisily into the apartment.

"Softly, softly, messieurs," said the president, recovering all his
constitutional gayety, yet blending it with a certain negligent command,
--"respect for the chair, if you please! 'T is the way with all
assemblies where the public purse is a matter of deferential interest!"

"Hear him!" cried Tomlinson.

"What, my old friend Bags!" said the president; "you have not come empty-
handed, I will swear; your honest face is like the table of contents to
the good things in your pockets!"

"Ah, Captain Clifford," said the veteran, groaning, and shaking his
reverend head, "I have seen the day when there was not a lad in England
forked so largely, so comprehensively-like, as I did. But, as King Lear
says at Common Garden, 'I be's old now!'"

"But your zeal is as youthful as ever, my fine fellow," said the captain,
soothingly; "and if you do not clean out the public as thoroughly as
heretofore, it is not the fault of your inclinations."

"No, that it is not!" cried the "tax-collectors" unanimously.

"And if ever a pocket is to be picked neatly, quietly, and effectually,"
added the complimentary Clifford, "I do not know to this day, throughout
the three kingdoms, a neater, quieter, and more effective set of fingers
than Old Bags's!"

The veteran bowed disclaimingly, and took his seat among the heartfelt
good wishes of the whole assemblage.

"And now, gentlemen," said Clifford, as soon as the revellers had
provided themselves with their wonted luxuries, potatory and fumous, "let
us hear your adventures, and rejoice our eyes with their produce. The
gallant Attie shall begin; but first, a toast,--'May those who leap from
a hedge never leap from a tree!'"

This toast being drunk with enthusiastic applause, Fighting Attie began
the recital of his little history.

"You sees, Captain," said he, putting himself in a martial position, and
looking Clifford full in the face, "that I'm not addicted to much
blarney. Little cry and much wool is my motto. At ten o'clock A.M. saw
the enemy--in the shape of a Doctor of Divinity. 'Blow me,' says I to
Old Bags, 'but I 'll do his reverence!' 'Blow me,' says Old Bags, 'but
you sha' n't,--you'll have us scragged if you touches the Church.' 'My
grandmother!' says I. Bags tells the pals,--all in a fuss about it,--
what care I? I puts on a decent dress, and goes to the doctor as a
decayed soldier wot supplies the shops in the turning line. His
reverence--a fat jolly dog as ever you see--was at dinner over a fine
roast pig; so I tells him I have some bargains at home for him. Splice
me, if the doctor did not think he had got a prize; so he puts on his
boots, and he comes with me to my house. But when I gets him into a
lane, out come my pops. 'Give up, Doctor,' says I; 'others must share
the goods of the Church now.' You has no idea what a row he made; but I
did the thing, and there's an end on't."

"Bravo, Attie!" cried Clifford; and the word echoed round the board.
Attie put a purse on the table, and the next gentleman was called to
confession.

"It skills not, boots not," gentlest of readers, to record each of the
narratives that now followed one another. Old Bags, in especial,
preserved his well-earned reputation by emptying six pockets, which had
been filled with every possible description of petty valuables. Peasant
and prince appeared alike to have come under his hands; and perhaps the
good old man had done in the town more towards effecting an equality of
goods among different ranks than all the Reformers, from Cornwall to
Carlisle. Yet so keen was his appetite for the sport that the veteran
appropriator absolutely burst into tears at not having "forked more."

"I love a warm-hearted enthusiasm," cried Clifford, handling the
movables, while he gazed lovingly on the ancient purloiner. "May new
cases never teach us to forget Old Bags!"

As soon as this "sentiment" had been duly drunk, and Mr. Bagshot had
dried his tears and applied himself to his favourite drink,--which, by
the way, was "blue ruin,"--the work of division took place. The
discretion and impartiality of the captain in this arduous part of his
duty attracted universal admiration; and each gentleman having carefully
pouched his share, the youthful president hemmed thrice, and the society
became aware of a purposed speech.

"Gentlemen!" began Clifford,--and his main supporter, the sapient
Augustus, shouted out, "Hear!"--"gentlemen, you all know that when some
months ago you were pleased, partly at the instigation of Gentleman
George--God bless him!--partly from the exaggerated good opinion
expressed of me by my friends, to elect me to the high honour of the
command of this district, I myself was by no means ambitious to assume
that rank, which I knew well was far beyond my merits, and that
responsibility which I knew with equal certainty was too weighty for my
powers. Your voices, however, overruled my own; and as Mr. Muddlepud,
the great metaphysician, in that excellent paper, 'The Asinaeum,' was
wont to observe, 'the susceptibilities, innate, extensible,
incomprehensible, and eternal,' existing in my bosom, were infinitely
more powerful than the shallow suggestions of reason,--that ridiculous
thing which all wise men and judicious Asinaeans sedulously stifle."

"Plague take the man! what is he talking about?" said Long Ned, who we
have seen was of an envious temper, in a whisper to Old Bags. Old Bags
shook his head.

"In a word, gentlemen," renewed Clifford, "your kindness overpowered me;
and despite my cooler inclinations, I accepted your flattering proposal.
Since then I have endeavoured, so far as I have been able, to advance
your interests; I have kept a vigilant eye upon all my neighbours; I
have, from county to county, established numerous correspondents; and our
exertions have been carried on with a promptitude that has ensured
success.

"Gentlemen, I do not wish to boast; but on these nights of periodical
meetings, when every quarter brings us to go halves,--when we meet in
private to discuss the affairs of the public, show our earnings as it
were in privy council, and divide them amicably as it were in the Cabinet
["Hear! hear!" from Mr. Tomlinson],--it is customary for your captain for
the time being to remind you of his services, engage your pardon for his
deficiencies, and your good wishes for his future exertions. Gentlemen,
has it ever been said of Paul Lovett that he heard of a prize and forgot
to tell you of his news? ["Never! never!" loud cheering.] Has it ever
been said of him that he sent others to seize the booty, and stayed at
home to think how it should be spent? ["No! no!" repeated cheers.] Has
it ever been said of him that he took less share than his due of your
danger, and more of your guineas? [Cries in the negative, accompanied
with vehement applause.] Gentlemen, I thank you for these flattering and
audible testimonials in my favour; but the points on which I have dwelt,
however necessary to my honour, would prove but little for my merits;
they might be worthy notice in your comrade, you demand more subtle
duties in your chief. Gentlemen, has it ever been said of Paul Lovett
that he sent out brave men on forlorn hopes; that he hazarded your own
heads by rash attempts in acquiring pictures of King George's; that zeal,
in short, was greater in him than caution, or that his love of a quid (A
guinea) ever made him neglectful of your just aversion to a quod? (A
prison) [Unanimous cheering.]

"Gentlemen, since I have had the honour to preside over your welfare,
Fortune, which favours the bold, has not been unmerciful to you! But
three of our companions have been missed from our peaceful festivities.
One, gentlemen, I myself expelled from our corps for ungentlemanlike
practices; he picked pockets of fogles, (handkerchiefs)--it was a vulgar
employment. Some of you, gentlemen, have done the same for amusement;
Jack Littlefork did it for occupation. I expostulated with him in public
and in private; Mr. Pepper cut his society; Mr. Tomlinson read him an
essay on Real Greatness of Soul: all was in vain. He was pumped by the
mob for the theft of a _bird's-eye wipe_. The fault I had borne with,--
the detection was unpardonable; I expelled him. Who's here so base as
would be a fogle-hunter? If any, speak; for him have I offended! Who's
here so rude as would not be a gentleman? If any, speak; for him have I
offended! I pause for a reply! What, none! then none have I offended.
[Loud cheers.] Gentlemen, I may truly add, that I have done no more to
Jack Littlefork than you should do to Paul Lovett! The next vacancy in
our ranks was occasioned by the loss of Patrick Blunderbull. You know,
gentlemen, the vehement exertions that I made to save that misguided
creature, whom I had made exertions no less earnest to instruct. But he
chose to swindle under the name of the 'Honourable Captain Smico;' the
Peerage gave him the lie at once; his case was one of aggravation, and he
was so remarkably ugly that he 'created no interest.' He left us for a
foreign exile; and if as a man I lament him, I confess to you, gentlemen,
as a 'tax-collector' I am easily consoled.

"Our third loss must be fresh in your memory. Peter Popwell, as bold a
fellow as ever breathed, is no more! [A movement in the assembly.]
Peace be with him! He died on the field of battle; shot dead by a Scotch
Colonel, whom poor Popwell thought to rob of nothing with an empty
pistol. His memory, gentlemen,--in solemn silence!

"These make the catalogue of our losses," resumed the youthful chief, so
soon as the "red cup had crowned the memory" of Peter Popwell; "I am
proud, even in sorrow, to think that the blame of those losses rests not
with me. And now, friends and followers! Gentlemen of the Road, the
Street, the Theatre, and the Shop! Prigs, Tobymen, and Squires of the
Cross! according to the laws of our Society, I resign into your hands
that power which for two quarterly terms you have confided to mine, ready
to sink into your ranks as a comrade, nor unwilling to renounce the
painful honour I have borne,--borne with much infirmity, it is true, but
at least with a sincere desire to serve that cause with which you have
intrusted me."

So saying, the captain descended from his chair amidst the most
uproarious applause; and as soon as the first burst had partially
subsided, Augustus Tomlinson rising, with one hand in his breeches'
pocket and the other stretched out, said,--

"Gentlemen, I move that Paul Lovett be again chosen as our captain for
the ensuing term of three months. [Deafening cheers.] Much might I say
about his surpassing merits; but why dwell upon that which is obvious?
Life is short! Why should speeches be long? Our lives, perhaps, are
shorter than the lives of other men; why should not our harangues be of a
suitable brevity? Gentlemen, I shall say but one word in favour of my
excellent friend,--of mine, say I? ay, of mine, of yours. He is a friend
to all of us! A prime minister is not more useful to his followers and
more burdensome to the public than I am proud to say is--Paul Lovett.
[Loud plaudits.] What I shall urge in his favour is simply this: the man
whom opposite parties unite in praising must have supereminent merit. Of
all your companions, gentlemen, Paul Lovett is the only man who to that
merit can advance a claim. [Applause.] You all know, gentlemen, that
our body has long been divided into two factions,--each jealous of the
other, each desirous of ascendancy, and each emulous which shall put the
greatest number of fingers into the public pie. In the language of the
vulgar, the one faction would be called 'swindlers,' and the other
'highwaymen.' I, gentlemen, who am fond of finding new names for things
and for persons, and am a bit of a politician, call the one Whigs, and
the other Tories. [Clamorous cheering.] Of the former body I am
esteemed no uninfluential member; of the latter faction Mr. Bags is
justly considered the most shining ornament. Mr. Attie and Mr. Edward
Pepper can scarcely be said to belong entirely to either; they unite the
good qualities of both. 'British compounds' some term them; I term them
Liberal Aristocrats! [Cheers.] I now call upon you all, Whig, or
Swindler, Tory, or Highwayman, 'British Compounds,' or Liberal
Aristocrats,--I call upon you all to name me one man whom you will all
agree to elect."

All,--"Lovett forever!"

"Gentlemen," continued the sagacious Augustus, "that shout is sufficient;
without another word, I propose, as your captain, Mr. Paul Lovett."

"And I seconds the motion!" said old Mr. Bags.

Our hero, being now by the unanimous applause of his confederates
restored to the chair of office, returned thanks in a neat speech; and
Scarlet Jem declared, with great solemnity, that it did equal honour to
his head and heart.

The thunders of eloquence being hushed, flashes of lightning, or, as the
vulgar say, _glasses of gin_, gleamed about. Good old Mr. Bags stuck,
however, to his blue ruin, and Attie to the bottle of bingo; some, among
whom were Clifford and the wise Augustus, called for wine; and Clifford,
who exerted himself to the utmost in supporting the gay duties of his
station, took care that the song should vary the pleasures of the bowl.
Of the songs we have only been enabled to preserve two. The first is by
Long Ned; and though we confess we can see but little in it, yet (perhaps
from some familiar allusion or other with which we are necessarily
unacquainted) it produced a prodigious sensation. It ran thus:--

THE ROGUE'S RECIPE.

Your honest fool a rogue to make,
As great as can be seen, sir,
Two hackneyed rogues you first must take,
Then place your fool between, sir.

Virtue 's a dunghill cock, ashamed
Of self when paired with game ones;
And wildest elephants are tamed
If stuck betwixt two tame ones.


The other effusion with which we have the honour to favour our readers is
a very amusing duet which took place between Fighting Attie and a tall
thin robber, who was a dangerous fellow in a mob, and was therefore
called Mobbing Francis; it was commenced by the latter:--

MOBBING FRANCIS:

The best of all robbers as ever I knowed
Is the bold Fighting Attie, the pride of the road!--
Fighting Attie, my hero, I saw you to-day
A purse full of yellow boys seize;
And as, just at present, _I'm low in the lay,_
I'll borrow a quid, if you please.
Oh! bold Fighting Attie, the knowing, the natty,
By us all it must sure be confest,
Though your shoppers and snobbers are pretty good robbers,
A soldier is always the best.


FIGHTING ATTIE

Stubble your whids, (Hold your tongue)
You wants to trick I.
Lend you my quids?
Not one, by Dickey.


MOBBING FRANCIS:

Oh, what a beast is a niggardly ruffler,
Nabbing, grabbing all for himself!
Hang it, old fellow, I'll hit you a muffler,
Since you won't give me a pinch of the pelf.
You has not a heart for the _general distress,_
You cares not a mag if our party should fall,
And if Scarlet Jem were not good at a press,
By Goles, it would soon be all up with us all!
Oh, Scarlet Jem, he is trusty and trim,
Like his wig to his poll, sticks his conscience to him;
But I vows I despises the fellow who prizes
More his own ends than the popular stock, sir;
And the soldier as bones for himself and his crones,
Should be boned like a traitor himself at the block, sir.

The severe response of Mobbing Francis did not in the least ruffle the
constitutional calmness of Fighting Attie; but the wary Clifford, seeing
that Francis had lost his temper, and watchful over the least sign of
disturbance among the company, instantly called for another song, and
Mobbing Francis sullenly knocked down Old Bags.

The night was far gone, and so were the wits of the honest tax-gatherers,
when the president commanded silence, and the convivialists knew that
their chief was about to issue forth the orders for the ensuing term.
Nothing could be better timed than such directions,--during merriment and
before oblivion.

"Gentlemen," said the captain, "I will now, with your leave, impart to
you all the plans I have formed for each. You, Attie, shall repair to
London: be the Windsor road and the purlieus of Pimlico your especial
care. Look you, my hero, to these letters; they will apprise you of much
work. I need not caution you to silence. Like the oyster, you never
open your mouth but for something. Honest Old Bags, a rich grazier will
be in Smithfield on Thursday; his name is Hodges, and he will have
somewhat like a thousand pounds in his pouch. He is green, fresh, and
avaricious; offer to assist him in defrauding his neighbours in a
bargain, and cease not till thou hast done that with him which he wished
to do to others. Be, excellent old man, like the frog-fish, which fishes
for other fishes with two horns that resemble baits; the prey dart at the
horns, and are down the throat in an instant!--For thee, dearest Jem,
these letters announce a prize: fat is Parson Pliant; full is his purse;
and he rides from Henley to Oxford on Friday,--I need say no more! As
for the rest of you, gentlemen, on this paper you will see your
destinations fixed. I warrant you, ye will find enough work till we meet
again this day three months. Myself, Augustus Tomlinson, and Ned Pepper
remain in Bath; we have business in hand, gentlemen, of paramount
importance; should you by accident meet us, never acknowledge us,--we are
_incog._; striking at high game, and putting on falcon's plumes to do it
in character,--you understand; but this accident can scarcely occur, for
none of you will remain at Bath; by to-morrow night, may the road receive
you. And now, gentlemen, speed the glass, and I'll give you a sentiment
by way of a spur to it,--

"'Much sweeter than honey
Is other men's money!"'

Our hero's maxim was received with all the enthusiasm which agreeable
truisms usually create. And old Mr. Bags rose to address the chair;
unhappily for the edification of the audience, the veteran's foot slipped
before he had proceeded further than "Mr. President;" he fell to the
earth with a sort of reel,--

"Like shooting stars he fell to rise no more!"

His body became a capital footstool for the luxurious Pepper. Now
Augustus Tomlinson and Clifford, exchanging looks, took every possible
pains to promote the hilarity of the evening; and before the third hour
of morning had sounded, they had the satisfaction of witnessing the
effects of their benevolent labours in the prostrate forms of all their
companions. Long Ned, naturally more capacious than the rest, succumbed
the last.

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