Tom Tufton's Travels

by Evelyn Everett-Green

  CHAPTER III. IN GAY LONDON TOWN.

  Tom Tufton walked through Bishopsgate, and along the crowded dirtythoroughfare towards the Poultry, with a jaunty air of unconcernthat did credit to his powers of dissimulation.

  It was Captain Jack's parting word to him to dissemble all outwardsigns of astonishment at what he might see when he entered thecity; to walk on without stopping to stare or gape, to look asthough such sights were of everyday occurrence in his life, and tobear himself with a bold and self-sufficient air, as much as totell the world at large that he was very well able to take care ofhimself, and that roisterers and bullies had better let him alone.

  Tom acted his part with considerable acumen; but within he wasconsumed by astonished bewilderment, which increased as he turnedwestward towards Cheapside, and approached the still fashionableregions of Holborn and its environments.

  The streets appeared to the country-bred youth to teem with life.Everything he set eyes on was strange and wonderful. The shops withtheir wares displayed, and noisy apprentices crying out to buyers,or exchanging fisticuffs with each other by way of interlude; thecoaches carrying fine ladies hither and thither, tightly laced,swelled out with hoops, their hair so towering in its lace andpowder as to provoke the query as to how it had ever attained suchgigantic proportions; the gay gallants in their enormous perukes ofpowdered hair, and their wonderful flowered vests and gold-lacedcoats--all these things provoked the keenest wonder and amazementin Tom's breast; albeit he walked on without pausing to examine onemore than another, or to exchange a word with any save somehonest-looking shopman, of whom he would ask the way to MasterCale's shop just off Holborn.

  If Tom had lost on the way to London his servant and both hishorses, he had at least gained some information which might be ofmore value to him than all the rest of his possessions; for CaptainJack had told him to go to Master Cale's and lodge with him,telling him who had sent him, and had added that he would put himin the way of becoming a proper gentleman of fashion, withoutfleecing him and rooking him, as would inevitably be the case if hefell into the clutches of those birds of prey always on the lookoutfor young squires from the country coming up to learn the ways ofthe world, with a plentiful supply of guineas and inexperience.

  Master Cale seemed to be well known, and he was directed to hishouse in almost the same words by each person he asked. Master Calewas a perruquier of no small popularity, who had risen throughhonesty and ingenuity to be one of the most fashionable tradesmenof the day. He also sold vests or waistcoats, lace-edged neckcloths, gloves, sword scarfs and girdles, generally of his owndesign; yet though his shop was regularly crowded with gallants andcourtiers, the man himself managed to preserve much of the honestyand simplicity which had been his making in the days gone by.Everybody liked and trusted Master Cale, and he was said to be thebest-informed man in London town on matters connected with thecourt and its fashionable throng of hangers on.

  As Tom walked onwards he realized for the first time in his lifewhat a rustic-looking fellow he must appear. He had felt himselfsmart enough at home in his leather breeches, brown friezedouble-breasted coat, scarlet vest, and riding boots, his hair tiedbehind with a scarlet riband to match the vest. But as he beheldthe fine gentlemen lounging arm in arm along the streets in theirhuge curled wigs, gorgeous waistcoats reaching sometimes to theknees, gold embroidered coats, with huge cuffs turned back almostto the elbows, and scarfs of every hue of the rainbow supportingtheir swords, he felt himself a mere boor and bumpkin, and wonderedmuch whether Master Cale would ever be able to turn him out a finegentleman, fit to associate with those he saw in the streets.

  As he pursued his way westward, he met parties of young rakes androisterers setting out for the theatres, the play being then anearlier function than it has become of late years.

  These men were swaggering along arm in arm, exchanging ribald jestswith each other, and insulting the inoffensive passers by withcoarse remarks interlarded with oaths, and, whenever occasionoffered, tripping them up with their swords or canes and landingthem in the gutter.

  Some of these worthies wore cockades or badges, and later on Tomlearned to know them as Darby captains, Tash captains, orCock-and-bottle captains, according to the special sort ofmarauding which they favoured. He met one party of the dreadedMohocks, or Mohawks, reeling along half intoxicated already, andripe for any offensive mischief, which later in the day they werecertain to perpetrate. They eyed the young rustic askance as itwas, and Tom heard a whisper go through their ranks:

  "Pity 'tis so early i' the day, or we'd sweat him rarely."

  But he held his head high, and swaggered along as though he felthimself a match for all and any who might attack him. Yet inwardlyhe felt that he would never go abroad in town without a sword athis girdle. What the "sweating" might be, he knew not; but he wasassured that it was some sort of assault upon his person.

  At length he reached his destination, which was a shop of fineappearance in Drury Lane, just off the main thoroughfare ofHolborn. It was then a street of some pretensions, albeit a narrowone, and Tom's eyes soon espied the name he was in search of overthe door of a shop round which a score or more of gallants werelounging. In the doorway itself stood a very fine youth, at leasthe was fine as to his raiment, although he wore no wig and was butan apprentice of better figure and deportment than most. He wasdisplaying to the admiring crowd a mighty fine waistcoat ofembroidered satin, worked in gold and colours very cunningly, andtrimmed with a frosted-gold cord of new design and workmanship. Itwas this waistcoat, which the young man called the Blenheim vest,that had attracted the crowd, and Tom could not at first get nearthe door, so much chaffering and laughing and rough play was goingon round it.

  So he filled up the time by seeking to understand the extraordinaryjargon which was spoken by the young dandies, in which he was notparticularly successful (for in addition to a marvellous assortmentof oaths, they talked a mixture of bad English, worse French, andvilest Latin), and in examining the signboard which hung out overthe doorway of Master Cale's abode.

  This sign had been painted to the perruquier's own design, at atime when there threatened to be a reaction in favour of naturalhair in place of the monstrous perukes so long worn. The picturerepresented a young man clad in all the finery of a fop of Charlesthe Second's court, save only the peruke, hanging by his hair fromthe limb of a giant oak, with three javelins in his heart, whilstbelow sat weeping a man in royal crown and robes; and below thispicture there ran the following legend:

  "O Absalom! O Absalom!O Absalom! my son,If thou hadst worn a periwigThou hadst not been undone."

  In the window of the shop was set out an array of the mostwonderfully curled wigs, perfect marvels of the perruquier's art;and, indeed, the size of the young dandies' heads was a study inextravagance quite as wonderful in its way as the towers upon theheads of the ladies.

  When presently the group had moved away, and the apprentice in thefine vest had a moment's leisure, Tom came forward and asked ifMaster Cale were within.

  The youth regarded him with some insolence of manner, but as hemight be addressing a future customer from the country, he repliedwith a show of civility that Master Cale was in the room behind theshop, curling the perukes of some gentlemen, but that Tom could goinside and wait if he liked. This he accordingly did, and soon theapprentice was surrounded by another crowd, and was taking ordersthick and fast for the Blenheim vest.

  The talk bewildered Tom, who, however, needs must listen, andpresently he was attracted towards the inner room, where half adozen young men, with heads almost as bald as those of infants,were arguing and laughing about the curl and fashion and set oftheir wigs, which were all standing in a row upon the blocks, andbeing cleverly and carefully manipulated by the deft hands of asmall and dapper man, in a neat but not inelegant suit of browncloth, ornamented by rather large silver buttons, whom Tom saw at aglance must be Master Cale the perruquier, although all hiscustomers called him "Curley."

  Heads were turned upon T
om's entrance, but the gentlemen onlyvouchsafed him a haughty stare, whilst the perruquier bid him beseated till he had leisure to attend to him. He then adjusted uponeach head its own wig, amid much jesting and gossiping that was allGreek to Tom; after which the gallants filed out with much noiseand laughter, and the little man turned to his unknown customer.

  "What can I do for you, young sir?" and his eyes instinctivelysought the head of the rustic youth, which was crowned with his ownfairly abundant locks of dark brown.

  "I come to you, Master Cale, with a few words in writing from onecalling himself Captain Jack, whom I met in Epping Forest, and whotold me I should be fleeced and beggared in a week if I fell intothe hands of the sharpers of London town; but that if I soughtlodging and counsel from you, I might learn my lesson without beingruined thereby. Here is the note he sent to you."

  The shrewd face of the little perruquier had taken an almost eagerlook as the name of Captain Jack passed Tom's lips. His eyesscanned the youth from head to foot, and when Tom took out andhanded him the note which had been given him, he seized it and readit eagerly, after which he turned to his new client, and said:

  "This billet, young sir, would be enough to secure you a welcomefrom me. Tell me of my good friend Captain Jack. Ah! if he couldhave but stuck to honest trade, he and I might have made ourfortunes together ere now. Never was such a figure for showing offcoat or vest or sash, or a head upon which a peruke sat with adaintier grace. But come, let us sit down together and quaff a cupof wine, and you shall tell me all your history."

  Dusk was falling between the high walls of the houses, and businesswas over for the day. Cale led his guest into a room on thebasement floor, where a simple but substantial refection had beenlaid out. He called out to his apprentice to get his supper in thekitchen; and when the door was shut upon the pair, he listened withinterest whilst Tom gave a very fairly accurate history of his ownlife up till the present moment.

  Then the little man shook his head with an air of wisdom.

  "The best advice I could give you, my young friend, is that youshould go home to your mother and your friends in Essex, and seekto learn no more of the wickedness of the world than you knowalready. But I suppose no words of mine would induce you to takethat course."

  "Certes no," answered Tom with a short laugh. "I am sick of thecountry. I have come forth to see the world, and see it I will, orknow the reason why."

  "Ah yes, so says every moth that flutters round the candle, tillhis wings be burnt away, and he left the shattered remnant of whathe erstwhile was," responded Cale, with a wise shake of the head."But no man ever yet was found wise enough to take experience atsecond hand. So if you are bent on seeing the world--which, let metell you, is an evil thing at best--I will try, for the love I bearto Captain Jack, and indeed to all honest youths, to put you in theway of seeing it with as little hurt to yourself as may be. And soyou are thinking of foreign travel?"

  "I was, till I saw what London was like," answered Tom; "but, i'faith, I am in no haste to quit it till I have seen its sights andtasted of its pleasures. Methinks I might go far, and spend muchgood gold, and not find the half of the diversion which the streetsof London afford."

  "Oh, if it be diversion you seek--"

  "It is," answered Tom frankly; "diversion, and the game of life asit is played elsewhere than in the lanes of Essex. I have seenenough in one afternoon to excite a thirst which can only beallayed by drinking from the same fountain. So no more talk ofEssex, or even of lands beyond the seas. I will e'en get you towrite a letter to my mother, telling her that I am safely arrivedin London town; and knowing that, she must make herself easy, for Iwas never one who could easily wield a pen. I was always readierwith the sword or the quarterstaff."

  "There will be fine doings in London town, too," remarked Cale,rubbing his nose reflectively, "when the Duke lands, and iswelcomed by all the town as the great victor of Blenheim. Yes,certainly, you should stay to witness that sight. Afterwards we cantalk of what you had better do. They are always wanting fine-grownyoung fellows for the army. Perhaps when your store of guineas isgone, London will not hold you so fast."

  "My store will last a long while," answered Tom, confidentlyslapping his inner pocket where the bag of gold rested. "I havefive hundred golden guineas, the legacy of my father; and to thatmy mother added another hundred, to fit me out with all thingsneedful for my travels, which things could not well be purchased inEssex. Now Captain Jack bid me at once hand over to you my money,which, he said, would melt in my pocket like snow, if it were notfilched away by thieves and rogues. He bid me place one hundredguineas with you for my board and outfit, and trust that you woulddo honestly by me; and the rest was to be put into your keeping, tobe doled out to me as I should have need. It seems a strange thingto be taking the counsel of a highway robber in such matters. But Ilike you, Master Cale; and I am just wise enough to know that myguineas would not long remain mine were I to walk the streets withthem. So here I give them into your keeping; I trust you with myall."

  "I will give you a receipt for the amount, my friend. Many men havemade me their banker before now, and have not regretted it. Youshall have a comfortable room above stairs, and you can either beserved with your meals there, or take them with me, or at somecoffee house, as best pleases you; and as for the outfit--why, itwill be a pleasure to clothe a pretty fellow of your inches infitting raiment. But be advised by me; seek not to be too fine.Quiet elegance will better befit your figure. I would have youavoid equally the foppery of the court beaux and the swaggeringself-importance of those they call the bully beaux, with whom youare certain to make acquaintance ere long."

  Tom was willing to listen to advice in these matters, and thelittle perruquier soon threw himself almost with enthusiasm intothe subject of the young man's outfit. They spent above two hourslooking over cloths and satins and scarfs, trying effects, andfitting on perukes. Tom had never before imagined how important andengrossing a matter dress could be, nor how many articles of attirewere necessary to a man who wished to cut a good figure.

  But at last he grew weary of the subject, and said he would faintake a stroll in the streets, and breathe the outer air again. Hefelt the stifling presence of encircling walls, and longed to getout into the starlit night.

  "The streets are none too safe at night for peaceful citizens,"remarked Master Cale, with a shake of the head. "But I have aperuke to take to a client who lives hard by Snowe Hill. If youneeds must go, let us go together; and gird on yonder sword ere youstart. For if men walk unarmed in the streets of a night, they arethought fair game for all the rogues and bullies who prowl fromtavern to tavern seeking for diversion. They do not often attack anarmed man; but a quiet citizen who has left his sword behind himseldom escapes without a sweating, if nothing worse befall him."

  "And what is this sweating?" asked Tom, as the pair sallied forthinto the darkness of the streets.

  Here and there an oil lamp shed a sickly glow for a short distance;but, for the most part, the streets were very dim and dark. Lightsgleamed in a good many upper windows still; but below--where theshutters were all up--darkness and silence reigned.

  "Sweating," answered Cale, "is a favourite pastime with the bulliesof London streets. A dozen or more with drawn swords surround ahapless and unarmed passer by. They will close upon him in acircle, the points of their swords towards him, and then one willprick him in the rear, causing him to turn quickly round, whereuponanother will give him a dig in the same region, and again he willjump and face about; and so they will keep the poor fellow spinninground and round, like a cockchafer on a pin, until the sweat poursoff him, and they themselves are weary of the sport. But, hist! Ihear a band of them coming. Slip we into this archway, and let thempass by. I would not have my wig box snatched away; and there is nolimit to the audacity of those bully beaux when they have drunkenough to give them Dutch courage. Discretion is sometimes betterthan valour."

  So saying, he pulled Tom into a dark recess, and in a few minutesmore th
ere swaggered past about six or eight young roisterers--singing, swearing, joking, threatening--more or less intoxicatedevery one of them, and boasting themselves loudly of the valiantdeeds they could and would do.

  They did not see the two figures in the archway. Indeed, thegreatest safety of the belated citizen was that these bullies weregenerally too drunk to be very observant, and that a person inhiding could generally escape notice. After they had passed by,Cale continued his way quietly enough, following the noisy party ata safe distance, as they too seemed bound towards Snowe Hill.

  They were approaching the top of the hill when a sudden sound ofshrieking met their ears, mixed with the loud laughter andhalf-drunken shouts of the roisterers. Tom caught his companion'sarm and pulled him along.

  "That is a woman's voice!" he cried quickly. "She is crying forhelp. Come!"

  "Beshrew me if I ever again walk abroad with a peruke at night!"grumbled Cale, as he let himself be hurried along by the eager Tom."I am not a watchman. Why should I risk my goods for every sillywench who should know better than to be abroad of a night alone?Come, come, my young friend, my legs are not as long as yours; Ishall have no wind for fighting if you drag me along at this pace!"

  It was the urgency of the cries that spurred Tom to the top of hisspeed. The laughter was loud and ceaseless, but the shrieks werebecoming faint and stifled. Tom's blood was boiling. He pictured tohimself a foul murder done. A few seconds before they reached thespot a new sound greeted their ears--a sort of rattling, boundingnoise--which provoked another peal of uncontrollable laughter.

  Then a voice was heard shouting:

  "The watch! the watch! or some fellows with swords!"

  Immediately the whole band broke up and rushed helter-skelter inall directions. Not that the bullies feared the watch one whit. Thewatchmen were mostly poor, old, worn-out men, who could do littleor nothing to impose order upon these young braggarts. Indeed, theywere so often maltreated themselves, that they just as often as notkept carefully away when cries were raised for help. But, havinghad their fun, the roisterers were ready to disperse themselves;for some of the citizens would rise in a white heat of rage, andtake law into their own hands, in which case it happened that thedisturbers of the peace came off second best. One of them had seenTom's tall figure and the sword in his hand as he ran beneath alamp, and had fancied that some more determined rescue than thatafforded by the watch was to be given. So the band dispersedshouting and hooting; and Tom and Cale found them scattered erethey came up to them.

  "But where is the woman?" asked Tom, looking round; "they have notsurely carried her off?"

  "Oh no--only sent her rolling down the hill in a barrel!" pantedCale; "it is a favourite pastime with the youths of London town.One party will put a barrel ready in yon doorway on purpose, and ifit be not removed, it will like enough be used ere morning. We hadbest go in search of the poor creature; for ofttimes they are soreput to it to get free from the cask--if they be stout in person atleast."

  And, indeed, as they neared the foot of the hill, they heard agroaning and stifled crying for help; and, sure enough, they founda buxom woman, the wife of a respectable citizen, tightly wedgedinto the cask, and much shaken and bruised by her rapid transitdown the hill, although, when released with some difficulty, shewas able to walk home, escorted by her rescuers, and bitterlyinveighing against the wickedness of the world in general andLondon's young bullies in particular.

  "The best thing, good dame, is not to be abroad at such an houralone," advised Cale.

  "Yes, truly; and yet it was but the matter of a few streets; and itseems hard a woman may not sit beside a sick neighbour for a whilewithout being served so on her way back. My husband was to havecome for me; but must have been detained. Pray heaven he has notfallen in with a band of Mohocks, and had the nose of him splitopen--to say nothing of worse!"

  "Are men really served so bad as that?" asked Tom, as the twoturned back from the citizen's house whither they had escortedtheir grateful protegee.

  "Worse sometimes," answered Cale, with a shake of the head. "ThoseMohocks should be wiped out without mercy by the arm of the law;for mercy they show none. They have read of the horrid crueltiespractised by the Indians whose name they bear, and they seek to dothe like to the hapless victims whom ill-fortune casts in theirway. There be men whose eyes they have gouged out, and whose noseshave been cut off, whose brains have been turned by the terror andagony they have been through. And yet these men go free; andlaw-abiding citizens are allowed to quake in their beds at thesound of their voices in the street, or the sight of their badgeseven in broad daylight. I call it a sin and a shame that suchthings can be. Well, well, well, let us hope that, when the greatDuke comes home, he may be able to put a stop to these things. Evenin warfare, men say, he is merciful, and will permit no extortionand no cruelty. We citizens of London will give him a right royalwelcome; perchance we may be able to crave a boon of him in return.He--or, rather, his wife--is all-powerful with our good Queen Anne;and she would not wish a hair of a man's head hurt could she buthave her way."

  "By the Duke you mean the great Duke of Marlborough, who has donesuch great things in the war? But what is the war about? Can youtell me that, for I have never rightly understood?"

  Cale was a great politician in his own eyes, and was well versed inthe politics of the day. He strove hard to make Tom understand theintricacies of the Spanish succession, the danger of allowing Spainto be ruled by one of the Bourbons, and the fear of theall-powerful French king, who seemed like to rule Europe, if theallied powers could not make head against him. Tom did his best tounderstand, and got a rather clearer view of the situation than hehad before; but what interested him most was the information thatthe Duke would come over to England shortly, and that a magnificentreception was to be given to him.

  Whigs and Tories had alike grown proud of the victorious general,and the war had become popular from success, though the drain onthe country was great. The Queen was personally liked, although shewas but a small power in the kingdom; and for the time beingJacobite plots were in abeyance. So long as she lived, nobody waslikely seriously to desire the return of the banished Stuarts; but,of course, there was the future to think for. Anne had no child tosucceed her; and the thought of the Hanoverian succession was by nomeans universally approved. Still for the moment the Jacobiteagitation was in abeyance, and all England rejoiced in thehumiliation of so dangerous a foe as the great monarch of France.

  Cale was full of stories of court gossip respecting the Queen andthe Duchess of Marlborough, whose affection for one another was abyword throughout the realm. The Duke and Duchess were also mosttenderly attached; and the private lives of Anne and her PrinceGeorge, and of the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough, presented abright contrast to the general laxity of morals prevailing at thetime. The rather austere rule of William and Mary had not reallypurged the court of vicious habits, though such had been steadilydiscouraged. Anne had not the force of character to impose her willupon her subjects; and extravagance, frivolity, and fopperyflourished amazingly.

  Tom felt his head in a perfect whirl as Cale chatted on of thisthing and that, passing from politics to court life, and then tothe doings of the wealthy classes, of which he had an intimateknowledge.

  "By my faith, London must be a marvellous place to live in!" quothTom, when at last he had been shown to the chamber prepared for hisreception. "I feel as though I had been a year away fromGablehurst. Prithee, bestir to get my clothes ready, good MasterCale; for I shall know no rest till I have been abroad myself, andhave seen these gay doings with mine own eyes!"