Tom Tufton's Travels

by Evelyn Everett-Green

  CHAPTER IV. THE FOLLY.

  A very fine fellow did Tom Tufton feel a few days later, when,arrayed in all his new finery, he surveyed himself from head tofoot in Master Cale's long mirror, kept in the best light affordedby the back room, for the benefit of the fops and dandies whodesired to see the effect of the finery purchased from thefashionable perruquier.

  Cale had used discretion, and urged the same upon Tom, in the selectionand fashion of his garments, and had sternly discountenanced anythinglike undue extravagance and foppery. Tom had insisted upon the Blenheimvest, with its rich flowering on the white satin ground, and itstrimming of golden cord; but for the rest he had permitted Cale toselect what he would, and was perfectly satisfied with the long coatof claret-coloured cloth, with a modest trimming of gold cord, andturned-back cuffs (showing the white lawn full shirt sleeve beneath),which set off his tall and well-made figure to advantage. The breecheswere of the same cloth, but showed little, as silk stockings were drawnhigh up over them, almost meeting the vest or waistcoat, which wasalways long. He had shoes with high though not extravagant heels, andgilt buckles; a gold cord with tassels adorned his jaunty three-corneredhat; and his girdle and sword belt were of gold silk and cord.

  But perhaps Tom was most proud of his periwig--an addition to hisoutfit which he had insisted upon rather against the advice ofCale, who had offered to curl and powder his own hair in animitation of the prevailing mode. But Tom would not be denied thefashionable peruke. He had spent the best part of each day seatedbehind a screen in Cale's inner shop, listening in a species offascination and amaze to the talk of the young dandies who dailyresorted thither. Cale told him that he would thus best learnsomething of the language and gossip of the day, and be better ableto hold his own when he went abroad; and Tom already felt that hepossessed command of a thousand new epithets and words, to saynothing of the meaningless oaths and blasphemies, which made a partof the stock in trade of every fashionable man's vocabulary.

  And now he stood regarding himself with complaisant satisfaction,feeling that he could ruffle it with the best of them. He had heardtoo much talk of periwigs not to feel resolved to wear one himself.Unless he did so, he felt he should never take his place in theworld of fashion. His natural hair had therefore been cut close tohis head, the peruke was fitted on, and fell in bushy curls to hisshoulders.

  Tom could not forbear a smile as he turned his head this way andthat to judge of the effect. He felt indeed a pretty fellow,prepared to take his share in the drama of life going on about him.

  "Harry Gay shall be your companion," said Cale, who had assisted atthe toilet with the interest of a connoisseur, and who did notattempt to disguise his satisfaction at the result. "Harry is asgay as his name, but he is a well-meaning youth, and will neitherrob you himself, nor suffer others to do so without warning you. Heknows London well, and the life has hurt him less than it hurtsmost. He is brave without being a bully; he can play, and knowswhen to stop. He is afraid of no man, and so he is left alone. Hehas a good heart, and is to be trusted; and here he comes in goodtime to take you under his care."

  The young man who now lounged in with a smiling face and a nod ofrecognition to Cale, was not unknown to Tom. He had seen himseveral times, and had taken a liking for him, which the otherreciprocated. Harry Gay was the son of a leading merchant citizen,a man of some importance and mark, who was able to give his sonevery advantage that money could purchase, and the means to enteralmost any circle short of that of the court itself.

  But he had also transmitted to his son a certain hard-headedshrewdness, which stood him in good stead in the gay life he wasnow leading. Harry had the sense not to try to push himself amongstthe high-born dames and gallants, where he would be regarded as aninterloper, and only admitted to be fleeced of his gold; butcontented himself with a more modest sphere, where he was a man ofsome little mark, and could lead as well as follow, if he had themind.

  Entering the back shop, Harry cast an approving glance at Tom, andnodded his head towards Cale, at the same time taking a pinch ofsnuff from his box, and handing it to the perruquier.

  "Does you credit, Curley, does you great credit. A chaste andsimple costume, but elegant withal--uncommon elegant, i' faith.Shouldn't mind a suit of the same myself, if I had our youngfriend's inches.

  "Well, friend Tom, and how do you feel? Learned to take snuff yet?No! Ah, well, 'twill come by degrees.

  "Put some more scent upon his person, Curley; he must smell like aperfumer's shop; and so--give him his gold-tasselled cane, and thegloves with the golden fringe. A muff? No! Well, perchance thosegreat fists would look something strange in one, and the day isfine and mild.

  "So, if you are ready, friend Tom, we will sally forth. To thecoffee house first, and afterwards, an it please you, to the play.

  "Farewell, Curley; I will bring you back your nursling safe andsound. He shall not be rooked or robbed today. But how long I shallbe able to hold the cub in leading strings remains yet to beproved!"

  Tom was in far too good spirits to take umbrage at this name. Hefelt anything but a cub as he walked down the street beside hisscented and curled and daintily-arrayed companion, unconsciouslystriving to copy his jaunty step, and the little airs and graces ofhis manner.

  "We will to the Folly," said Harry, as they stepped out intoHolborn and turned their faces westward. "You have not yet seen theriver, and the Folly is a floating structure moored in the water onthe farther shore opposite to Somerset House, of which you may haveheard. It is not the most fashionable resort; but, for my part, Ilike it well. There is always good company to be had there, and weare not interrupted every moment by the incursions of drunkenroisterers, who spend their day in reeling from tavern to tavern,or coffee house to coffee house, in search of some new story totell, or some fresh encounter to provoke."

  Tom listened eagerly to all his friend told him as they went theirway towards the river. So far he had not cared to show himself inthe streets till after dusk, as he had become foolishly ashamed ofhis rustic garb. He was immensely interested in all that he beheld,and in the stories his companion told him about the places theypassed, the persons they met, and the occupants of the coacheswhich were now rolling to and fro through the streets, takingladies and their fine gentlemen friends either to the park, or somefashionable rendezvous.

  Great indeed was his interest and amazement as they reached thesteps beside the river, and Harry signalled to a waterman to bringup a wherry alongside to take them to the Folly. He had neverimagined anything so wide and grand as this great flowing river,lined with its stately buildings, and bearing on its bosom morevessels than he imagined that the world held! Had it not been forhis fear of betraying undue ignorance, he would have broken into atorrent of questions; as it was, he sat in wide-eyed silence,gazing about him like a savage suddenly transported into the worldof civilization--not a little to the amusement of his cicerone.

  The Folly was a floating structure not unlike a large houseboat ofthe present day. Its guests could walk to and fro upon the roof, orfind warmth and entertainment within its walls, as did Harry andhis friend; for although the sun shone, the wind blew cold upon thewater, and it was pleasanter within the warmed interior, wherealready a sprinkling of guests had assembled.

  The place was divided into two rooms for the public accommodation.The first of these was a bar and gaming room. A buxom androsy-cheeked damsel was presiding at the bar, and several youngdandies leaned their elbows upon it, and strove to engage her inconversation. Some others were already seated at a table, and werethrowing the dice, laughing and swearing ceaselessly over theirgame. The second room was quieter at present, and upon the tablethere lay strewn about the various newspapers and pamphlets of theday. Two or three men were reading them, and discussing the news ofthe hour as they sipped their coffee or chocolate.

  Harry led the way into this place, ordered coffee for himself andhis friend, and, whilst nodding familiarly to the occupants of theroom, possessed himself of a few papers, and pu
shed some of themacross to Tom.

  "A new pamphlet by Jonathan Swift, I see," he remarked carelessly,with a wink at his pupil. "You know his Tale of a Tub, Tom?Monstrous clever thing that! It tickles one to death reading it. Sodo his pamphlets--sharpest things out. Some talk of Defoe as hisrival; but, for my part, I never read anything that rivals Swift'swritings! Pity he has such a sharp edge to his temper. They say hewill never get promotion."

  Tom took up the pamphlet, and tried to look as though he werereading it with appreciation; but he had never been much of astudent, and the comings and goings of a constant stream ofvisitors engrossed him far more than the printed words, the meaningof which he understood no whit.

  It was much more interesting to him to listen to what thefrequenters of the coffee house were saying amongst themselves; andgreatly did he admire the ease and readiness with which Harry tookhis share in the conversation.

  "Has my Lord Godolphin found a worthy pen to sing the praise of thevictor of Blenheim yet?" he asked of a man who appeared to be areferee on matters literary. "The last I heard was that he wasscouring London, tearing his periwig in pieces in despair that therace of poets was extinct, and he could only find the most wretcheddoggerel mongers, whose productions were too vile to be tolerated.Has the noble lord found a better rhymster? Or will the victory ofthe great Duke have to go unsung by the Muse?"

  "What! have you not heard the end of that matter? Why, my LordHalifax declared that he knew the man worthy of the occasion; buthe would not reveal the name unless it was promised that he shouldbe excellently well treated. And this man is none other than JosephAddison, a fellow of the University of Oxford, and a man wellthought of and pensioned, too, by the late King William. But sincethe death of His Majesty, the poet has been living in poverty andobscurity in a humble lodging hard by the Haymarket. There it wasthat he received a visit one day from the two noble lords; and ithath since been whispered that a poem is a-preparing so fine inquality and so finished in style, that my Lord Godolphin is now fitto dance a hornpipe for joy, and has promised a bountiful reward tothe genius whose brain has devised and whose hand has penned thelines. They say that the poem is to be called 'The Campaign,' andthat it is one of the finest the world has ever seen."

  Whilst this sort of talk was going on in one corner, there werecounter-conversations, more interesting to Tom, being carried on inother parts of the room. One band of bully beaux, somewhat theworse for drink already, were telling stories of scandal andduelling, to which Tom could not but listen with ill-concealedinterest. Others were discussing the last new play, or the last newtoast. A few fine dandies sat combing their periwigs as they talkedof the latest fashions, taking snuff freely, and sprinklingthemselves with perfume from a small pocket flask, if they wereever too nearly approached by some commoner person.

  As time passed by the quieter men, who had come early to read andtalk politics and literature, withdrew themselves and took theirdeparture. Harry Gay was claimed by a party of dashing-lookingyoung rakes, who insisted that he should come and play a game oftic-tac with them in the outer room; and as Tom made no move toaccompany him, he left him in his seat in the corner to look on andlearn all he could.

  Tom, indeed, was quite fascinated by the scene around him, and hadno desire to tear himself away. Presently one of the men from thegroup of bully beaux (as Tom had dubbed them, not by any meansincorrectly) moved nearer to him, and took the chair vacated byHarry; and gradually the group reformed, with Tom as one of itsmembers. The others addressed him, asking his name and his history.Tom was reserved as to this last, but spoke in a frank and easy waywhich seemed to win upon his comrades. There were four of them, andwhatever might be their real names, Tom found out that they wereknown amongst themselves, and by the world of the tavern, by thefollowing cognomens: "Slippery Seal," "Bully Bullen," "ThirstyThring," and "Dicing Dick."

  Tom was not sure that he liked or approved these new comrades, butat least their conversation interested and excited him. They toldof duels fought in the ring at Hyde Park, or at the back ofMontague House; of the exploits of highwaymen, and the executionsat Newgate, which were plainly favourite spectacles with them. Theytold of the doings of themselves and other marauders in the streetsof London, and roared with laughter over their exploits. Tom,ashamed of his real disgust, strove to laugh too, for he dreadedabove everything to be thought a man lacking in spirit; but perhapshis face betrayed more than he meant, for his comrades began togibe him in a fashion which made his hot blood rise; and he mighthave got into trouble before Harry could come to the rescue, had itnot been that a sudden hush fell upon the room, whilst the wordwent round, spoken in every intonation of curiosity, respect, andadmiration:

  "'Tis Lord Claud himself! Hither he comes! Certes, but he is a finefigure of a man! So he has not grown too fine for his old haunts,though men did say that he was the pet and the favourite of all thecourt ladies!"

  At that name, heard once before from the lips of Captain Jack, Tomlooked round in great curiosity and eagerness. Immediately he wasgratified by the sight of the entrance into the inner room of theperson who was the cause of all this subdued commotion.

  The newcomer was a very handsome man, of slender and gracefulproportions, tall and elegant, and dressed in the extreme offashion, yet with a taste that robbed foppery itself of anyappearance of absurdity in his case. He looked quite young at thefirst glance; but a keen and practised eye could detect lines inthat gay and handsome face which only time could trace. Probably hewas past thirty by some years, yet many men of five and twentylooked older. The only thing in which he differed materially fromhis brother dandies was that he wore his own hair in lieu of thewig; but so abundant and beautiful was it, lying upon his shouldersin large curls of tawny golden hue, and clustering with a graceabout his temples that no wig ever yet attained, that not the mostardent upholder of the peruke could wish him to change the fashionof his coiffure, which, in fact, gave to his outer man a touch ofdistinction which was well borne out by the elegance of hisdeportment and costume.

  Tom stared his fill at the newcomer, who was attended by several ofthe habitues of the coffee house, and received their welcome with alanguid grace and indifferent goodwill. He was speedilyaccommodated with the best seat in the room. Conversation washushed to listen to his words; the most fragrant cup of coffee wasbrought to him by the beauty of the bar herself, and his orderswere dispatched with a celerity which was lacking to any othercustomer.

  Small wonder was it that Tom, gazing and marvelling, asked in awhisper of the man next him:

  "Who is it?"

  "Lord Claud, of course, you rustic cub," was the scornful reply,for politeness did not distinguish Tom's new friends. "Any foolabout town could tell you that much."

  "I know it is Lord Claud," answered Tom, somewhat nettled; "but whois Lord Claud? That is what I meant by my question."

  Another laugh, not a whit less scornful, was the reply to thissecond query.

  "He'll be a clever fellow who tells you that, young greengoose fromthe country!" was the answer, only that the words used were moreoffensive, and were followed by the usual garnishing of oaths andby blasphemous allusions to Melchisedec, from which Tom gatheredthat nothing was known to the world at large as to the parentage ordescent of the man they called Lord Claud, and that this title hadbeen bestowed upon him rather as a nickname than because it was hisby right.

  The babble of talk, hushed at the entrance of the newcomer, beganto rise again when he took up one of the journals, and appeareddisposed for reading rather than conversation. Tom, unable to takehis eyes off the elegant figure, still continued to ask questionsrespecting him, but was more puzzled than enlightened by the natureof the replies.

  "There had been other Clauds before him," one of the men remarked.

  Another added that it was easy to be rich when the king was made topay toll.

  Slippery Seal wished, with a laugh and an oath, that he were halfas slippery as the great Lord Claud; and Bully Bullen remarked thatif he could but get
such a reputation for duelling, he would playthe bully to better purpose than he did now.

  This band of four were getting noisy and quarrelsome. They had beendrinking steadily ever since they came in, and their cups of coffeehad been tinctured by something much stronger. They were getting uptheir energies for their nightly prowls about the city, and thoughtit no bad start to bait young Tom first. Of course he had betrayedhis ignorance and rusticity in a hundred little ways. Although hebegan to understand a little of what passed around him in theinterlarded speech of the day, he could not frame his tongue to anyadequate imitation of it yet. He had learnt, alas, to swear in hisold life; but there is a fashion even in oaths, and his were toorustic in form to pass muster here.

  As the bully beaux got deeper in their cups, so did their baitingof young Tom increase in offensiveness and coarseness. The hotflush of anger kept rising in the young man's face, and there weremoments when a fight was imminent, which was perhaps what theaggressors desired. Harry was still in the outer room, or he wouldhave interposed, for it was not a nice thing to be the butt of aset of braggarts and bullies, and this fashion of drawing a youngman into their clutches was by no means unusual.

  Suddenly, as matters seemed to be getting ripe for some outbreak offury on Tom's part, which might well lead to disastrous results, asudden clear, resonant voice rose above the hubbub, and dominatedall other tones by a peculiar property impossible to describe.

  "Let that lad alone, you cowards!" spoke the voice, in tones ofunmistakable authority. "Get out of this place, you swaggeringbullies! Are we to have no peace even in this inner room, for yourfilibustering ways? Go and bluster out yonder, if bluster you must.Speak a single word of insolence to me--" and here the blue eyesseemed to flash fire--"and I will have every one of you ducked inthe Thames three times ere you take a step from hence! Now, willyou go quietly?"

  It was strange to see the change which came over these young rakesthe moment that the clear, cold tones of Lord Claud's voice fellupon their ears. They stopped, they cringed, they looked one at theother, and then back at him, as a whipped dog looks at the masterwho rates him. Thirsty Thring, who had drunk the most deeply, andwho was in consequence most filled with Dutch courage, venturedonce to look as though he were about to resist, or to dispute themandate of Lord Claud; but no sooner had he provoked that flash ofthe eyes, than he too was cringing more humbly than his fellows.

  To the great amazement of Tom, they took up their hats, and slunkfrom the room like so many whipped curs. He heard them the nextminute chartering a wherry to take them to the shore once more.

  Lord Claud had taken up his paper again, but meeting Tom's bashfulglance of mingled gratitude and admiration, he remarked to him witha quiet smile:

  "You are a stranger to London and its sons, lad; take this bit ofadvice from one who knows both well: Never let any man badger andinsult you. Take no word from any; but return it with a blow or asword thrust. Make your name feared--it is the surest road tosuccess. Tavern and street brawls are taken little note of by theadministrators of the law; but better a few weeks' discipline inNewgate, than to be the butt and victim of a set of vulgar streetswaggerers and swashbucklers such as those worthies we have justseen depart."

  Tom had risen and had slowly approached Lord Claud. Now that thehour for the play had all but come, the room was thinning of itsguests. He felt more courage to speak to this strange being, whoseemed so great a personage.

  "I thank you, sir, for sending them away. I will seek to followyour good counsel in the future."

  And then, after a moment's hesitation, he added, "Sir, are theremore than one Lord Claud in this great city of London?"

  "Not that I am aware of," answered the other, with a lighting ofthe eyes. "Some would tell you that one was enough even for so vasta city and realm as this!"

  "Because," continued Tom, "I was charged with a message for oneLord Claud, and I marvel that it can be your worshipful self, forhe that sent it was a strange man to speak of himself as yourmaster."

  A laugh shone in the dark blue eyes of the other.

  "In sooth I call no man my master," he answered lightly; "but tellme the name of him who sent this message, and I shall know if it befor me or not."

  "He called himself Captain Jack," answered Tom, "and I met with himbetwixt my home in Essex and this city. He was dwelling in theheart of the great Forest of Epping."

  Upon Lord Claud's face there had come a look of vivid interest andpleasure; yet he laid a finger upon his lips, as though to cautionTom, who, indeed, had spoken in a tone too low to be heard by anyone else.

  "Any news of or from Captain Jack is right welcome in mine ears,"he said; "but this is not the time or place in which to speak ofsuch things. Come tomorrow morning early to my lodgings in theMall--any man will direct you to them--and there we will speak atease. Forget not--tomorrow morning by ten o' the clock, ere mylevee has begun. I shall expect you. Farewell, good youth, and keepyour distance with those gentlemen you have just left. They wouldlike to spit you as a goose is spitted, but I would see you againere that consummation be achieved!"

  He nodded to Tom, and took up his paper again; and Tom, turninground, encountered the amazed glance of Harry, who had come in tofind him, and discovered him in friendly converse with the greatestman of all the company.

  "How now, Tom! But you have a mettlesome spirit after all, if youcan scrape acquaintance with Lord Claud. I have been in his companymany a time, but never a word has he vouchsafed to me. And are youinvited to his lodgings? Surely my ears must have deceived me!"

  "In sooth he asked me, but it is only to hear a message I chance tobear from an old friend of his. Harry, tell me who is this LordClaud? Men seem to worship the ground he treads upon, and yet tofear him, too, more than a little."

  It was after they had reached the streets again that Tom put thisquestion, and Harry answered it by a knowing shake of the head.

  "I should have the makings of a fortune in me," he answered, "if Icould tell who Lord Claud was. There be many fine ladies, andcurled darlings of fashion, who would give much to know thatsecret."

  "But if he be a lord--"

  "Ah, indeed--a wise 'if'! He is no more a lord than I am! That muchI can tell you. But the name fits, and he wears it with a grace.There be ladies in high places, too, who would not be averse toshare it with him, and be my Lady Claud, even though no other namemight be hers."

  "But he is very rich; and rich men--"

  "Rich!--ay, verily; and so should I be rich, if every time my pursewas empty I helped myself to Her Majesty's gold, as it traversedthe road from place to place!"

  Tom stopped short as though he had been shot.

  "A highwayman!" he gasped.

  Harry bestowed upon him a sage glance and a mocking laugh.

  "That is your word, not mine, my friend. Breathe it not before hislordship! But there be many who swear that he is none other than agrandson of the famous Claud Duval of olden days, and that he rollsin the wealth he has filched from royalty itself."

  "And yet he lives like a prince, and all the world pays him court!"

  "Oh yes--it is the way of the world; a successful villain is asmuch an idol as a successful general. The tide may turn. All highpositions have their dangers. Remember nothing has ever been provedagainst him; but men think and whisper, though not in his presence.Town talk may or may not be true; and the ladies like him none theless for the tales that circulate about him. But come now, no morequestions, or we shall be late for the play!"