At this moment, a footman entered, and informed Lady Brabazon that her carriage was at the door. He was followed by the little black page, leading the lap-dog by a silken cord.
“I shall not want you to-day, Mustapha,” said her ladyship, taking the dog from him. “I will give Sappho an airing myself.” She then arose, and taking Randulph’s arm, and quitting the room with him, proceeded, through a line of powdered and richly-habited lackeys, to her carriage.
Clementina was escorted by Sir Singleton, and the two ladies being seated, Randulph was requested to take a place beside them. Mr. Villiers accommodated the two other gentlemen in his splendid equipage — the admiration of the day — and the carriages were ordered to drive to Marylebone Gardens.
* * *
CHAPTER II.
Mrs. Nettleship — Mr. Cripps Personates His Master — Marylebone Gardens — Mr. Cripps Detected.
Before repairing, however, to this celebrated place of entertainment, it will be needful to inquire into the proceedings of another person who proposed to visit it — namely, Mr. Cripps. Mr. Villiers, it will be remembered, had intended to drive over to Richmond on the day in question — to fulfil an engagement of more than a week’s standing, — but had suddenly, from jealousy or whim, changed his mind. Calculating, however, upon his master’s adherence to his original plan, the valet had determined to profit by his absence to visit Marylebone Gardens.
Mr. Cripps, it has been shewn, was a very great person in his own estimation; but he sometimes represented himself as a far greater person than he had any title to be considered, and induing himself in his master’s clothes, laid claim also to his master’s title; in other words, sinking the vulgar name of Cripps, he would assume that of Villiers. His displays of this kind were chiefly confined to the eastern side of the metropolis, where he was pretty certain not to meet either his master or his friends; his principal places of resort being White Conduit-house, Sadler’s Wells, Hockley-in-the-Hole, Islington, Hogsden, and certain other places of entertainment on the Surrey side of the water. One Sunday, when he was so disporting himself at White Conduit-house, he contrived to strike up an acquaintance with a very showy dame who happened to be there, and who was dazzled by his brilliant exterior and airy manners — so superior, she thought, to those of the vulgar throng around her. Having attended her during her stay, Mr. Cripps called a coach for her, led her to it, and was rewarded by a tender look and a tenderer squeeze of the hand at parting. He had previously ascertained that the lady’s name was Nettleship, that she was the relict of a tallow-chandler, and resided in Billiter-square; that she possessed a handsome property, bequeathed to her by her deceased spouse, the tallow-chandler aforesaid; and moreover, that she was without incumbrances. Fortune thus appeared to have thrown a rich prize in his way, if he could but obtain it. He found, however, on further inquiry, that Mrs. Nettleship was under a marriage engagement to her late husband’s partner, Mr. Rathbone, who was at that time in the country collecting debts, and settling his affairs. But though this circumstance certainly appeared untoward, he determined to persevere, being firmly persuaded that in love matters to dare was generally to succeed. With this view, he contrived to meet Mrs. Nettleship as often as he could, and had been exactly half a dozen times in her company prior to the opening of this history, during which period be contrived to heighten the agreeable impression he had produced on their first acquaintance, and in a great degree to obliterate the image of Mr. Rathbone.
Mrs. Nettleship was a lady rather below the middle size, but not altogether destitute of personal attractions. She had a very full and very comely figure, very white and very rounded little arms, with pink dimpling elbows; and though she had no neck, or at least none that was perceptible, from the wreaths of fat above and below it, she had cheeks large and round enough to make up for the deficiency. Her eyes were as small as those of a Chinese lady, but very black and bright — bright enough, her late husband used to say, ‘to light a candle at;’ and her nose had the prettiest turned up point in the world. It was this feature that, in especial, called forth the descriptive powers of Mr. Cripps, who appeared in a state of ecstasy whenever he contemplated it, or thought of it, and having a slightly turned up nose himself, contended, reasonably enough, that no beauty could exist without such a formation, and that Grecian noses, and above all, Roman noses, were detestable, and unendurable. It was not difficult to bring Mrs. Nettleship to his opinion; and though she flustered and blushed at his compliments and fine speeches, and professed to think them too extravagant, it was evident she swallowed them as easily as if they had been strawberries and cream. Mrs. Nettleship was at an age when, more than any other, such compliments are estimated. She was exactly forty-five, and she therefore knew the full value of her attractions. During their interviews, she had often expressed a strong desire to visit Ranelagh, Marylebone Gardens, or Vauxhall, in company with her admirer, but Mr. Cripps constantly evaded the request, under some plea or other, until an opportunity appeared to present itself, occasioned by his master’s proposed drive to Richmond, and he resolved to hazard a visit to Marylebone Gardens with her, fervently praying it might decide his hopes.
So soon, therefore, as the coast was clear, he repaired to his master’s dressing-room, and with the assistance of Antoine, the French valet, ransacked the wardrobe, and attired himself in the richest habiliments it contained. Thus the embroidered scarlet coat, the flowered silk waistcoat, the black velvet breeches, the pearl-coloured silk hose, that had decorated the beau’s own person on the previous day, were now transferred to his own. To these he added one of his master’s finest laced shirts, and a point-lace, cravat. A pair of large diamond buckles were fixed to his shoes, and a silverhilted sword to his side. He next selected a large and brilliant ring from the beau’s jewel box, which he placed upon his finger; covered his cheeks and chin with patches; put on a full flowing Ramillies perriwig; thrust a magnificent gold snuff-box into his pocket, together with a fine cambric handkerchief; chose the handsomest clouded cane he could find; took up a feathered hat which had only been once before worn by his master, and which he himself had prevented him from wearing on that day; and having contemplated himself with great complacency in the large cheval-glass before him, declared to Antoine that he thought he should do!
Receiving a confirmatory reply from the French valet, he went down a back staircase, which he had often traversed before when bent on similar expeditions, and quitted the house. A coach was waiting for him at the corner of Spring Gardens, into which he got, and ordered the coachman to drive for very life to the top of Harley Street, where he had appointed to meet Mrs. Nettleship, and where, in fact, he found her waiting for him. Discharging his own vehicle, he handed the lady out of hers; and apologizing to her for having detained her, led the way to the gardens. He launched out in an eloquent panegyric on her dress, which he designated as ravishing, predicting its effect on the assemblage they were about to join. Mrs. Nettleship had, indeed, taken quite as much pains with her toilette as her admirer; and it was no slight satisfaction to her to find her efforts appreciated. Her gown was of blue and silver silk of the richest description, and inflated almost to the size of a balloon by an enormous hoop. She wore diamond ear-rings, and a diamond solitaire, while her neck was encircled by a chain of large orient pearls. Her stomacher was spotted with plated silver, and thickly studded with Bristol stones. Her sleeves were short and wide, tied above the elbow with white satin bows, and edged with deep falls of lace, her cap was of pink silk, and caul-shaped, and from behind it floated two streamer-like crimson ribands. Her ruddy complexion, which needed no aid of rouge, was relieved by abundance of patches, while her little fat fingers, rosy as those of Aurora, pept from out a pair of short black silk gloves. A large fan, then as indispensable to a lady as a sword to a gentleman, completed her appointments.
Marylebone Gardens, it is well-known, lay on the eastern side of the upper end of the lane bearing the same name — the whole of the country beyond Harley St
reet, which was not more than a third of its present extent, being open fields. They were of considerable size, and were originally laid out and planted at the beginning of the last century, at which time the public were gratuitously admitted to them. In one part of the grounds there was an excellent bowling green; which drew many lovers of that most agreeable recreation to it. By degrees, the gardens being very conveniently situated, rose in repute; and in 1737, their proprietor, Mr. Gough, began to demand a shilling for admittance — this sum entitling the visitor to its value in refreshments. But still further improvements were effected. Orchestras, boxes, and a theatre for musical entertainments, were erected within them. Besides the main walks, semicircular rows of trees were planted, and hedges contrived so as to form pleasing labyrinths for those who preferred privacy. Bowers, and alcoves were built in different places; lamps were fastened to the trees, and at night, on the occasion of a fete, every part of the garden was illuminated with myriads of lamps of various colours. The company began to improve, and the price of admission was raised to five shillings. Fetes of every kind were held here; and the place continued in vogue until nearly the end of the century with which its rise commenced. In Marylebone gardens stood the notorious gambling house to which John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, used to repair, and who at the close of the dinner with which he was won’t to wind up the season, gave as a toast— “May as many of us as remain unhanged meet next spring!” It was in allusion to this duke, and to his haunt, that Lady Mary Wortley Montague wrote:— “Some Dukes at Mary’bone bowl time away.”
Malcolm tells us that a few trees, once forming part of Marylebone Gardens, were standing at the north end of Harley Street in 1808. But we fear not even a stump of one of them is now left.
Carriages, coaches, and chairs were setting down their occupants at the entrance to the gardens, as Mr. Cripps and his companion drew near. Never had Mrs. Nettleship seen a gayer throng — the dresses she thought magnificent. There was Lady Ancaster, whom Mr. Cripps pointed out to her, in a brocaded lutestring sack, with ruby-coloured ground and white tobine stripes trimmed with floss — the Countess of Pomfret, in a black satin sack flowered with red and white — Lady Almeria Vane, in a scarlet unwatered tabby sack — Lady Ilchester, in a white tissue flowered sack. All these ladies wore hoops; but none of them, Mr. Cripps assured his companion, managed this equipment with half so much grace as herself. Throughout this stage of the business, Mr. Cripps had some difficulty in playing his part, and it required all his effrontery to enable him to go through with it. Having affirmed to his companion that he was an intimate acquaintance of all the ladies of rank he encountered, and in the habit of attending their routes and parties, he was under the necessity of sustaining the character, and he kept constantly bowing and kissing his hand to them. And in most cases he succeeded; for the ladies to whom his salutations were addressed, deceived by his showy attire, which seemed to mark him for somebody, returned them. Mrs. Nettleship was enchanted. To be attended by so fashionable a person, who knew all the beau monde, was supreme felicity. She would have given the world to be introduced to some of the fashionable ladies, and intimated as much to her companion; but he was too shrewd to attend to the suggestion, contenting himself with saying, with a very impassioned look, “I hope, my angel, that one of these days, I shall have the honour of introducing you to my fair friends under another name. ’Twould make me the happiest of men— ‘pon rep!”
“Ods bodikins! Mr. Willars, how you do confuse one!” exclaimed the lady, spreading her fan before her face.
By this time, they had gained the principal avenue leading towards the orchestra, and at each step he took, Mr. Cripps kissed his hand to some elegantly dressed person:— “There’s my friend Lord Effingham and his countess,” he said— “glad to see you, my lord — that’s the pretty Mrs. Rackham — a bride, sweetheart, a bride,” with tender emphasis— “that’s the rich Mrs. Draper — I daren’t look at her, for she’s determined to have me, whether I wish or no, and I can’t make up my mind to it, though she’s promised to settle sixty thousand pounds upon me, and to die in six months.”
“La! Mr. Willars, you wouldn’t sell yourself to such an ojus creature as that!” cried Mrs. Nettleship— “why, she’s a perfect fright, so dressed!”
“Precisely what you describe her, ‘pon rep!” replied Mr. Cripps. “But do listen to the music. Isn’t it inspiring?”
And they paused for a moment to listen to the lively strains proceeding from the orchestra, which was placed at one end of a large building facing the principal walk. By this time, the company had almost entirely assembled. The main walk was completely thronged, and presented the appearance of the Mall at high tide, while all the boxes and alcoves were filled with persons discussing bowls of punch, plates of ham, chickens, salads, and other good things. The band in the orchestra was excellent, and the lively airs and symphonies added to the excitement and spirit of the scene. Mr. Cripps created a great sensation. Many persons thought they had seen him before, but no one could tell who he was. Meanwhile, the object of this attention continued to dispense his bows and smiles, flourished his clouded cane, tapped his magnificent snuff-box, and after astonishing all the beholders with his coxcombry, glided off with his companion into one of the side walks.
He had scarcely disappeared when Lady Brabazon and her party entered the main walk. Her ladyship led her little spaniel by its string, and was attended on one side by the beau, and on the other by Trussell. Behind them walked Clementina, who had contrived to allure Randulph from her mother, and to attach him to her, while on the young man’s left walked Sir Singleton Spinke.
Everybody that Mr. Villiers encountered told him of the prodigious beau who had just been seen on the walk. Lord Effingham, Major Burrowes, Lord Dyneover, Sir John Fagg — all described him.
“Who the devil is he?” cried Villiers.
“Haven’t the least idea,” replied Sir John Fagg. “But I’ll speak to him if I meet him again. He’s your very double, Villiers. I’ll swear he has employed Desmartins to make him a suit precisely like your own.”
“Has he!” cried the beau, indignantly “Then I’ll never employ a rascally Frenchman again! and what is more I won’t pay him his bill.”
The same thing was told him by twenty other persons, and the beau looked anxiously round for his personator, but was for some time unable to discover him.
Meanwhile, Mr. Cripps had sought this secluded walk to give him an opportunity of making a declaration to the widow, and though he was not positively accepted, he was not decidedly refused — the lady only asking time to consider over the proposal. The audacious valet was on his knees, and rapturously kissing her hand, vowing he would never rise till he had a favorable answer to his suit, when two persons were seen approaching, whom, to his infinite mortification and surprise, he recognised as Abel Beechcroft and his uncle, Mr. Jukes.
“We are interrupted, my charmer,” he cried, getting up, with a countenance of angry dismay— “Let us return to the public promenade. You won’t refuse me. I shall kill myself ‘pon rep, if you do!”
“I’ll think of it, Mr. Willars,” said Mrs. Nettleship, twirling her fan. “But it would be a dreadful thing if I was to break my engagement to Mr. Rathbone.”
“Oh! curse Mr. Rathbone, I’ll cut his throat!” cried Mr. Cripps, glancing anxiously down the walk. But unfortunately, there was no outlet at the lower end, and he was compelled to turn and face the intruders. He looked also to the right and left, but on neither side was there a box or an arbour into which he could retreat. Nothing was left for it but impudence, and luckily for him this quality never deserted him at a pinch. Putting on his boldest manner, he strutted gaily, and with affected nonchalance towards Abel, and his uncle, who, as he advanced, stepped aside a little to look at him.
“Why, as I live!” cried Abel, “that’s Mr. Villiers’s valet — your nephew, Jukes.”
“Lord save us! so it is,” cried Mr. Jukes, lifting up his hands in astonishment
. “Why, Crackenthorpe, what are you doing here — and in your master’s clothes?”
“Truce to your jests, old fellow,” said Mr. Cripps, angrily, “and let me pass.”
“What! disown your uncle!” cried Mr. Jukes, angrily, “and in the presence of his worthy master. Pay me the ten crowns you borrowed from me yesterday.”
“La! Mr. Willars, what’s the meaning of all this?” cried Mrs. Nettleship.
“‘Pon my soul, my angel, I don’t know, unless the old hunks has been drinking,” replied Mr. Cripps. “The rack punch has evidently got into his head, and made him mistake one person for another.”
“Rack punch!” cried Mr. Jukes, furiously. “I haven’t tasted a drop. You call him Mr. Villiers, ma’am,” he added to Mrs. Nettleship,— “he’s deceiving you, ma’am. He’s not Mr. Villiers. He’s his gentleman — his valet.”
“A truce to this folly, you superannuated old dolt!” cried Mr. Cripps, raising his cane, “or I’ll chastise you.”
“Chastise me!” said the butler, angrily. “Touch me, if you dare, rascal. Crackenthorpe, Crackenthorpe — you’ll certainly be hanged.”
“Let him alone, Jukes,” interposed Abel. “He’ll meet his master at the corner of the walk, and I should like to see how he’ll carry it off.”
Taking advantage of the interference, Mr. Cripps passed on with his inamorata, who was as anxious to escape from the scene as himself; while Abel and Mr. Jukes followed them at a short distance.
It fell out as Abel had foreseen. As Mr. Cripps issued into the broad walk right before him, and not many yards off, were his master and Lady Brabazon, together with the rest of the party. If the valet ever had need of assurance, it was now. But though ready to sink into the earth, he was true to himself, and exhibited no outward signs of discomposure. On the contrary, he drew forth his snuff-box, took a pinch, in his airiest manner, and said to Mrs. Nettleship— “There’s Lady Brabazon — accounted one of the finest women of the day, but upon my soul, she’s not to be compared with you.”
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 305