Complete Works of R S Surtees

by R S Surtees

  The Bowderoukinses, on the other hand, were delighted when they got their card — a large glazed paste-board with the Duke and Duchess of Tergiversation requesting the honour of Mr and Mrs. Bowderoukins’s company to a ball and supper! Well, wonders would never cease! They had always gone upon the “‘umble tack,” talking of the Tergiversations as people many cuts above them. Now places were changed, and the Duke and Duchess absolutely considered it honour to be visited by them. At least they said so, and that too in print, which everybody believes.

  “WHAT HAVE YOU GOT THERE, MISTTESS BOWDEHOUKINS?” demanded our fat friend, as he saw his delighted spouse coming grinning along from the larder at post time with the important document in her hand.

  “Guess!” exclaimed Mrs. Bowderoukins, putting it behind her.

  “Letter from the Lord Chamberlain, perhaps?” suggested Mr Bowderoukins, ironically, well knowing what it was.

  “No! guess again!” replied Mrs. Bowderoukins.

  “Well, perhaps Mr. Sugars, the grocer’s bill,” said he, thinking to humour the delusion.

  “No!” exclaimed Mrs. Bowderoukins, unable any longer to restrain herself, “card from the Duke and Duchess of Tergiversation!” putting it full before him.

  “Only think!” ejaculated Bowderoukins.

  “Only think!” responded his ecstatic spouse; “what will Mrs. Tom Tucker say?”

  “Death of her,” replied Mr. Bowderoukins, rubbing his fat hands.

  “What shall I put on, Mr. Bowderoukins?” now demanded his smiling wife.

  “Put on, my dear,” replied Bowderoukins, well knowing what that question would lead up to— “put on, my dear? — There’s your cinnamon-coloured satin, or your striped — what de call it?”

  “Oh, Mr. Bowderoukins, the striped is a morning dress.”

  “Well, then, there is your fine green genoa velvet — give it a turn.”

  “Oh, Mr. Bowderoukins, I have worn it till everybody is tired of seeing me in it. It is the dress that that odious Mrs. Cambo called me the Emerald Isle in. I’m sure you wouldn’t wish me to go a figure the first time, Mr. Bowderoukins.”

  “Certainly not, my dear,” replied Mr. Bowderoukins, “certainly not, my dear; but you must not cut the Duchess out in her own house, you know.”

  “Not much fear of that,” replied Mrs. Bowderoukins; “but I really think I should have a new dress on this occasion, dear Bowderoukins. Don’t you think I should, Bowderoukins?”

  “Well, my dear, I don’t know, I’m sure, my dear. You are the best judge, my dear — only it’s candle-light, my dear — things look very well by candle-light that look only middling by daylight, my dear; my black shorts are not very good when you come to examine them by daylight.”

  “Oh, Mr. Bowderoukins, you don’t understand these things — gentlemen never do. You know, I must have a new dress, sooner or later, Mr. Bowderoukins; so why not have it now when it will be a credit to wear it?”

  “Well, my dear, you know best,” replied Mr. Bowderoukins, shuffling away with his newspaper, seeing it was of no use contending with a lady who has made up her mind. And the same post that conveyed their answer to the Castle, carried a letter to Madame Gigot, in Geranium Crescent, for a new ball dress of the most fashionable order, to be down without fail in three days.

  Mr. Jovey Jessop’s and his Jug’s cards were sent in the same envelope, the Duchess having heard of the Jug’s frequent peregrinations to Privett Grove, and relying upon the ladies smartening him up. It was not that her grace objected so much to the Jug’s nankeens as to his not having them clean, the Jug having been chucked out of his buggy on a former occasion and alighting on his knees, had gone about all the evening with two great mud stains, looking for all the world like a mole-catcher without his traps.

  Sivin-and-four of course had a card, including Mrs. Sivin-and-four and our esteemed young friend Jasper. “Sivin and four’s elivin and sivin’s eighteen, that card’s from the castle,” said he, as he saw it lying conspicuously on the drawing-room table, “and sivin’s twenty eight, wish I mayn’t have to pay for the party;” so saying he trudged down stairs into the Bank to have a look at the ledger.

  “Sivin and four’s elivin, and sivinty-sivin’s eighty-eight, just as I thought,” said he, surveying the deficiency creeping on again. Wish he would pay up instead of keeping one out of one’s bed at night, incurrin no end of expense of conveyance, and gloves, and nobody knows what. Really think I’ll say no, and write a line drawing his ‘tention to his account, for unless one’s always at him he thinks he has nothin to do but draw, and the money will be forthcoming-just as if one had a well to draw it out of. When, however, answering time came, Mrs. Goldspink accepted in the names of all three, and begged the banker to keep his account for a more favourable opportunity.

  Words cannot depict Mrs. Black White’s astonishment at receiving a card, and that not a supplementary one, but sent in the first issue. Mrs. Brown White had always twitted Mrs. Black White with not being castle company, and now she was suddenly elevated into equality with herself. She could not resist walking over to Belladonna Cottage to see her; but Mrs. Brown White suspecting the object of her errand, took the wind out of her sails, by saying she supposed she would have got a card for the great to-do at the castle, adding, with a yawn, as if she was out every night in her life, that she didn’t know that Brown and she would be going, they had been so often that they were about tired of the thing. Still she would advise Mrs. Black to go, as she had never been there, and the castle was worth seeing, especially under such favourable circumstances, and altogether she patronised her not a little. So Mrs. Black White did not take much by her mission. However, what with those that were asked, and those that were not asked, and those that thought they ought to be asked, and those who would not have gone if they had been asked, there was a pretty commotion engendered throughout the country; and fashion, books, and pattern books, were in great demand among the fair, and many were the orders for dresses, all of course wanted immediately.

  CHAPTER XCI.

  THE DUCAL DIFFICULTIES.

  LET US NOW fake a glance at the domestic affairs at the castle. Getting up a ball is generally excitement enough for most people, but the Duke and Duchess of Tergiversation’s excitement was considerably increased by the difficulty there was in getting the necessary supplies. Country tradespeople can seldom afford to give long credit, and Mr. Cucumber’s applications and orders were too generally met by the production of some long-standing bill-which it would be a real convenience to the parties to have settled. The duke was a great economist up to a sovereign. That sum he exceeded went right overhead in extravagance. He would criticise the board at a toll bar from top to bottom, to be sure he wasn’t defrauded of a halfpenny, while he would think nothing of ordering a couple of hundred pounds’ worth of cut flowers for an evening party.

  “Flat,” said his Grace to Mr Hydrangia, the Bayswater florist, as he accompanied that genius on a tour of inspection of the receiving rooms, on the evening of a great London ball.

  “Flat,” repeated he as they got into the drawing room.

  “Don’t know your Grace,” replied Mr. Hydrangia, “there are two hundred pounds worth of exotics here.”

  “Then put two hundred pounds’ worth more,” replied the Duke, without a moments hesitation.

  “How much?” exclaimed he, cantering up Purbeck Bar on his way home, from half a-day’s hunting at Sandforth Heath.

  “Tuppence!” replied old deaf Turner, the toll-keeper, holding out his hand for the money.

  “Tup-pence! it is but three half-pence surely,” replied the Duke, pulling up, and going attentively through the list on the board — broad wheels, narrow wheels, exemptions and all.

  “Ah, well, twopence it is,” at length replied he, coming to the horse department—” There’s your money!” adding, as he cantered away, “The man who would rob me of a single halfpenny, would rob roe of all I’m worth in the world.”

  It was seein
g the Duke at one of these wrangles, coupled with his own innate regard for the siller, that made Mr. Haggish so obstreperous about the “green silk whopcord,” that terrible outlay that had cost the Duke eighteenpence. But we are getting to the out-door department, instead of confining ourselves to the internal arrangements of the Castle. ‘Well, the Duke’s credit, we are sorry to say, was not very great, but he never would want for anything on that account; and on Cucumber devolved the responsibility of seeing the orders executed. The Duke was well cared for too, and many were the enquiries made after him by the Assurance Office people in London, the directors of some of which had proposed to club together to take him a-moor to keep him in health, thinking the battueing was not sufficiently severe exercise.

  There is no doubt that London is fast absorbing the retail trade of the country, and will do so entirely if shopkeepers persist in making summer hideous by sending in their bills half-yearly and dunning accordingly; but in a case like the present, where the entertainment was given as much to procure votes as to promote gaiety, it would never do to throw the patronage away upon the metropolis, and come what would the necessary supplies must be procured on the spot. Still a country confectioner’s is a miserable affair, little in the shop, and nothing behind, though there is never any want of enterprise in the way of taking large orders, the parties relying on the assistance of all the drunken out-of-place creatures, and trusting to excuses, and “the cat,” for getting out of their difficulties. The cat got in at the last moment — the cat upset the cream — the cat eat the jelly — the cat destroyed the game; there never was such a cat.

  In the Duke’s case it was not so much the cookery that was wanted — for that could be done in the Castle — as the material wherewith to cook. When Betty Barns could get three and sixpence for her fowls at Jollyfield market, she was not going to send them on any visionary prospect of some day receiving three and nine from Mr. Cucumber for them. So that gentleman issued his orders without much success, for country people hang together, and if one says no, they generally all say no. If, therefore, the pleasure of a ball is enhanced by the trouble it gives, this ought to have been a very enjoyable one. A ball at Willis’s Booms is not considered equivalent to one in a private house, simply, we suppose, because all the paraphernalia is at hand, no taking doors off their hinges, no turning master’s study upside down, or making the library into a room for the ladies. So with the supper — supper for so many — bill for supper for so many — an order and a cheque — comprise the trouble — does the whole business. That however will only do for the division of labour peculiar to the unlimited means and appliances of the capital. The country must always be dependent upon separate purveyors, unless indeed parties choose to entrust the arrangements to some great London house; but then what a thing it would be if it should come a snow storm, and the supper be drifted up short of its destination! A ball without a supper would never do. The Duke of Tergiversation, however, had enough work with Hydrangia and people when in London, without troubling them to come into the country, so he drew his supplies from native industry.

  First and foremost undoubtedly is the champagne. There must be plenty of champagne, at least, plenty of pop, fizz, banging, for as it is not all gold that glistens, so it is not all grand mousseux that sparkles. The wine, the Castle cellars supplied, and Mr. Cucumber and the butler understood the judicious mixture — when to interpolate a few bottles of grape, when to sow the pure supply stronger. Lights come next. There must be a perfect blaze of light, and in these glorious days when competing companies almost force their goods upon the public, sending their “cash prices” and their “booking prices,” as if determined to have an order, there can be little difficulty in procuring an abundant supply; and Cucumber gave magnificent orders for transparent wax, and China wax, and Ceylon wax, and the finest Colza oil, all of which came down carefully packed, with obsequious invoices, in some instances the railway-carriage paid — for weak-minded tradesmen are terribly obnoxious to the influence of rank. Next in importance to the wine and light is the music, and whether or not we have recently turned a military nation, there can be no doubt that we have greatly advanced as a musical one. There is scarcely a village of any size without its band, and where nothing but cock and dog fighting went on, and nothing but bacchanalian songs were heard, we have now the notes of soft music wafted on the breeze. We cannot but think if our legislators were to increase the harmless enjoyments of the people — say throw open the Museums, the Picture Galleries, the Crystal Palace on a Sunday — they would do them far more real service than by burthening them with a troublesome franchise that they do not require.

  Well, the wine, lights and music being procured, the delicacies of the season — the beef, mutton, and cheese, as the sailor described a sumptuous repast he had had — were next considered, and Haggish was charged to make predatory excursions among the poultry whenever he went out with the hounds. Eggs, butter, and cream, too, were sought far and wide. So what with contributions on-the spot, and consignments from town, things at length assumed the dimensions of a grand entertainment, and the Castle looked as if it would stand a prolonged siege, or sustain a very heavy invasion.

  CHAPTER XCII.

  THE GENERAL DIFFICULTIES.

  HAVING GLANCED AT the Duke’s difficulties, let us take a look at those of the guests. By the time the cards became due, the winter had just got to that critical period when we may look for all sorts of weather within the short space of four-and-twenty hours, — rain, snow, frost, sunshine; hunting on one side of a hill, skating on the other. The weather, however, does not in general make much matter to the ladies — so long as they can get into their carriages and out again, they do not care much what it is. It is the gentlemen who are always looking at their aneroids and land marks speculating on the atmosphere, and calculating the damage to their invaluable harness and horses — horses that they wouldn’t take any money for.

  And in truth, those who went to the Duke’s on a ball night had needs look about them, for the stable accommodation was scanty at best, and three in a stall nothing uncommon. Providing proper stable accommodation for the visitors’ horses is another of the difficulties peculiar to country gaiety. Mr. Willis would look rather blank if all the coachmen setting down at his rooms in King’s Street were to want billets for their horses and something for themselves. The Duke looked upon the matter in a metropolitan point of view — he didn’t ask the horses — they formed no part of the entertainment — could not be a horse quadrille if it was ever so; therefore, after such accommodation as the master of the horse and Mr. Haggish could spare was filled, the corners were left a good deal to chance and the care of the neighbouring publicans. First come, first served was generally the order of the day.

  A ball being to the ladies a good deal what a fox hunt is to the gentlemen, there was a great demand for quarters and filling of country houses for miles around the Castle, which on the afternoon of the day somewhat resembled a fortress in a state of siege, the martello towerlike dresses of the ladies contributing to the idea. Then the fever of anxiety was increased in some houses on finding that the martello towers could not by any means be got into the carriages — at least not in the proportions they had theretofore been, when dresses wore smaller and more controllable.

  A set dinner-party on a ball night, is always an undesirable, uncomfortable affair in the country, and had better never be attempted. The ladies are always in a fidget about something, and mysterious messages are getting constantly delivered, causing abrupt risings and departures, and perhaps frowning brows on the return. Then there is that constant looking at watches, and asking the gentlemen what o’clock it is, no lady ever relying upon her own watch; and evident desire to be among the laces and flounces of the toilette instead of the flowers and fricandeaux of the dinner-table.

  Young gentlemen are not much easier, and long to be at the looking-glass instead of the wine-glass — not an undesirable change from the days when it was thought necessary t
o be well primed before going to a ball.

  Pater Familias generally does the bulk of his dressing before dinner — all most likely save putting on the immaculate tie and the No. 1 coat and vest — for he finds that stooping encourages blood to the head rather than digestion; and just as he has imbibed his usual allowance of wine, and about read himself asleep, the door opens and in glides a lady so large and gorgeous, so differently dressed to the one who went out, that he has to rub his knuckles well into his eyes in order to recognise her person. “What! Mrs. Sunnyfield, is that you?” exclaims he.

  “Yes, Sun, my dear, it’s me. Shouldn’t you be getting ready? The carriage will be round directly.”

  “Well, that is a dress!” exclaims Sun, jumping up and hurrying out of the room, wondering what sort of a figure it will cut in the bill. He then dives into his clothes, and, putting himself into his paletot, resigns himself complacently to the hands of his fair executioner.

  It is a pity the coachmakers had not foreseen the rage of crinoline, so as to have shaped their vehicles accordingly. The hooded and headed contrivances of the country — the turbot-tubs upon wheels — are but ill calculated to convey the expanded gig umbrellas they are now called upon to hold. Moreover, the budded and buttoned things are seldom wholly proof against weather. They may be all very well in the day-time, when a traveller can see the coming storm and meet it accordingly; but it is not nice to drive eight or ten miles in the dark, with the keen wind whistling through its pet aperture into one’s ear, or for a lady to feel the drop, drop, drop of the neatsfoot-oiled water from the head upon her rich pink silk or beautiful moire antique. All this, too, perhaps amid the comfortable laudations of the owner at the convenience of a carriage that can be made either a close or an open one at pleasure.

  Then the job carriages; what work there is with the job carriages. What resuscitation of old post-chaises, impromptu-ising of post-boys, and impressing of horses — animals that scarcely know what harness is are somehow accepted as safe and sufficient security. If the history of all the quadrupeds that run in public conveyances were known, people would not be so fond of getting into them. Yet somehow the good-natured public seem to take it all for granted, and the crazier a concern is, the more they seem to like it. Look at the ram-shackling things that go out of a country town on a market day, piled up on the roof like a Covent Garden cabbage cart. But let us off to the ball and get there as best we cap And to so absorbing an event let us devote a separate chapter.