“Why, does he own that his name is Cripps?” said the butler, in astonishment.
“He would make us believe so,” replied Rathbone; “but we know, as yourself, you old deceiver, that it’s Willars.”
The butler looked thoroughly mystified.
“‘Pon rep! this is vastly amusing,” said Mr. Cripps, (helping himself to a pinch of snuff) and clearing his point-laced cravat from the dust.
“And so you, ma’am, are aware of the real name of this young man?” said Mr. Jukes, turning to the widow.
“Perfectly aware of it,” she replied, significantly.
“And so am I,” added Rathbone, coughing drily. “We’re all aware of it — all.”
“Then I’ve nothing further to say,” returned Mr. Jukes. “Whatever construction may be put upon my visit, Crackenthorpe, I only came here to serve you.”
“No doubt, my good man, no doubt,” replied Rathbone. “But don’t imagine you’ve deceived me.”
“So that I’ve convinced the lady, I’m perfectly satisfied,” said Mr. Jukes, taking his leave.
“Very well contrived, Mr. Willars — exceedingly well, sir,” said Rathbone; “but it won’t do. I saw at once he was one of your people.”
“You are a man of great discernment, truly,” replied Mr. Cripps. “Pray take a pinch of snush before you go.”
“I’m afraid you spend your wages in snush, sir,” laughed Rathbone. And plunging his fingers into the box, he quitted the room, chuckling to himself.
“Capitally done, ‘pon rep!” cried Mr. Cripps. “The old fellow couldn’t have played his part better.”
“And was he really engaged to do it?” said Mrs. Nettleship. “Well, I declare he quite took me in. But you see Mr. Rathbone is too good a judge to be imposed upon. He knows the true gentleman when he sees him.”
“All is going exactly as I could wish it, my angel,” replied Mr. Cripps. “Before a month has passed, I’ll make him give up the contract.”
“Heigho!” exclaimed the widow, “I wish the month was over.”
Mr. Cripps had thus completely accomplished his purpose. His rival had made up his mind that he was Mr. Villiers; and he was one of those obstinate persons who always persist in an error, even against the evidence of their senses. The valet took care to humour the idea. While persisting in giving his real name, and representing himself in his true character, Mr. Cripps demeaned himself in such sort as to leave no doubt in the mind of the sagacious tallow-chandler that his actual rank and position were widely different. Nothing, however, surprised the valet more than the kindly manner in which his rival behaved to him. So far was this carried, that he began to suspect some treachery might be intended against himself, and resolved to be on his guard.
But whatever secret opinions the rivals might entertain of each other, ostensibly they were excellent friends, and constantly went to places of amusement together. When the masquerade at Ranelagh was announced, Mrs. Nettleship instantly signified her intention of attending it, and Mr. Cripps, emboldened by his former good luck, unhesitatingly undertook to escort her. Mr. Rathbone, of course, was included in the party, and he not only begged to be permitted to pay for the tickets, but to give them a supper on the occasion. With apparent reluctance, Mr. Cripps assented to the proposal; and they then arranged the characters they should represent. The valet, being an excellent dancer, thought he should appear to advantage as harlequin; and as Mrs. Nettleship, notwithstanding her bulk, still boasted considerable agility, she readily undertook to play columbine. The part of the hump-backed lover was offered to Mr. Rathbone, and accepted by him.
There were yet two other persons whom the irresistible masquerade threatened to draw into its vortex. These were the fair Thomasine and Peter Pokerich. For more than two years the mercer’s daughter had been dying to see a masquerade; and the moment she heard of the grand entertainment in question, she attacked her father on the subject, and never allowed him to rest till he promised to let her go. Peter Pokerich required no solicitation to induce him to accompany her, being as eager as herself for the spectacle. Mr. Cripps had imparted to him his design, and it was arranged that they should all go together. Only one difficulty existed, — namely, that the fair Thomasine had selected the same character as the widow. But this objection was got over by Mr. Cripps, who declared he could do very well with two columbines. The little barber himself would have preferred playing harlequin, but as Mr. Cripps had appropriated the part, he was obliged to be content with that of clown.
CHAPTER VIII.
The Masquerade at Ranelagh, with the Various Incidents that Occurred at It.
At length the day so much wished for by the principal personages in this history, and by many hundreds besides, arrived. It was the second Thursday in July, and a more joyous and auspicious day never ushered in a festival. This was the more fortunate, because the early part of the entertainment was to take place out of doors. The fete commenced at two o’clock; but long before that hour, the road to Chelsea was crowded with coaches, chariots, chairs, and vehicles of every description. The river, too, was thronged with boats freighted with masquers, and presented a most lively appearance from the multitudes of spectators drawn forth by the fineness of the day, and the gaiety of the scene, which vied in splendour with a Venetian carnival.
Having decided upon going by water, Mr. Cripps and his party left Billiter-square about one o’clock, and embarked in a tilt-boat, rowed by a couple of watermen, at Old Swan Stairs, near London Bridge. They were all, of course, in their masquerade attire, Mr. Cripps being arrayed in the parti-coloured garb of the hero of pantomine, — which differed only in some immaterial points, such as the looseness of the pantaloons at the ancle, and the amplitude of the shirt collar, from the garb of the modern harlequin. He was provided with a wand, and his face was concealed by a close black vizard. Mr. Rathbone had a large hump on his shoulders, like that of Punch (whom, by-the-by, his figure greatly resembled), a well-stuffed paunch, a large protuberance behind, shoes with immense roses in them, a tall sugar-loaf hat, and a mask, with a great hooked nose and chin. He carried, moreover, a stout knobbed stick. As to the lady, her goodly person was invested in a white satin habit, glistening with spangles, and flounced with garlands of flowers. She had short sleeves, with deep falls of lace to them, — satin shoes, braided with silver cord, — a pearl necklace round her throat, and a wreath of artificial roses upon her head. She declined hiding her features behind a mask, which Mr. Cripps declared was excessively kind and considerate.
Their passage along the river was delightful, Mr. Cripps being so excited that he could not be content to remain under the tilt, but displayed himself in the fore part of the boat, ogling all the prettiest damsels among the spectators, retorting the jests of their male companions, and, whenever an opportunity offered, dealing them a hearty thwack with his wand. Mrs. Nettleship did not altogether relish these proceedings, but Mr. Rathbone enjoyed them amazingly, and laid about him right and left, like his rival, with his knobbed stick.
On landing at Chelsea, they met, according to appointment, the little barber and his companion. The fair Thomasine looked uncommonly pretty. She had on a gown of yellow and silver, spangled like the widow’s, and adorned with garlands of flowers, with a bodice of pink satin, crossed with ribands of the same colour. Round her throat she wore a chain of gold, from which depended an imitation diamond solitaire, and her rich auburn tresses were covered with the prettiest little coquettish hat imaginable. Her dress was purposely made short, so as to display her small feet and ankles. From the same motive also as the widow, she declined wearing a mask. Mr. Cripps was quite captivated by her, and claiming the privilege of his character, took her from the barber, and offered her his unoccupied arm.
Peter Pokerich wore a scull cap, covered with red and white worsted, arranged somewhat like a cock’s-comb, a large ruff, a red calico doublet, white slashed calico drawers, with huge bunches of ribands at the knees, and pink silk hose. His face was painted in re
d and white streaks. Like the others, he was in tip-top spirits; and the whole party proceeded to Ranelagh, which was not far distant, laughing and jesting with each other merrily.
They found the road from town completely stopped up by a line of carriages, while the throng of spectators on foot rendered it difficult to get on. The familiarities of the crowd were almost unsupportable. Not a coach or a chair was suffered to pass without its occupant being inspected by the curious, who, in many cases, compelled those they annoyed to let down the windows, that they might have a better view of their dresses.
By dint of elbowing and squeezing, assisted by the wand and knobbed stick, the party contrived to move slowly forward; and as they did so, they had ample opportunity of glancing at the occupants of the different vehicles. Mr. Cripps very soon distinguished his master’s gilt chariot; but he did not turn aside, as his mask and dress ensured him from detection. Mrs. Nettleship was struck by the magnificence of the equipage, and recalling the features of the beau, who was wrapped in a sky-blue domino, and wore a Spanish hat and feathers, but kept his mask in his hand, said, “Why that’s the fine gentleman who spoke to you in Mary’bone Gardens. What’s his name?”
“Odd enough! the same as my own — Villiers,” replied Mr. Cripps. “He’s a first cousin of mine, and we’re considered very much alike.”
By the side of Mr. Villiers sat Sir Singleton Spinke. The antiquated beau was so metamorphosed, that Mr. Cripps scarcely recognised him; nor would he, perhaps, have done so, if the charms of the fair Thomasine had not attracted the old coxcomb’s attention, and caused him to thrust his head out of the window to look at her. Sir Singleton, as favouring his turn for gallantry, had chosen the part of Pierrot, and was habited in the peculiar vestment of white calico, with long, loose sleeves, as well as the broad-leaved, high-crowned hat proper to the character.
Lady Brabazon’s carriage immediately preceded that of the beau, and contained her ladyship, Clementina, Trussell, and Randulph. Trussell was dressed like a Turk, and wore a large turban, ornamented with a crescent, and a fine, flowing, coal-black beard. Randulph did not appear in character, but was attired in a light blue velvet coat, laced with gold, the work of the French tailor, Desmartins, which displayed his elegant figure to the greatest advantage. He had not yet put on his mask. Clementina was robed in a pink silk domino, and wore a black velvet hat, looped with diamonds, and ornamented with a plume of white feathers, and really looked very beautiful. Lady Brabazon wore a rich silk dress, embossed with gold and silver, that suited her admirably.
Next in advance of Lady Brabazon’s carriage was that of Sir Bulkeley Price. The Welsh Baronet was in his ordinary attire, but he was accompanied by a Chinese Mandarin, in a loose gown of light silk, girt at the middle with a silken belt, and having a conical cap, topped by a gilded ball, on his head. This person, notwithstanding the disguise of a long twisted beard, Mr. Cripps knew to be Cordwell Firebras.
Passing several other carriages filled with various characters, they came to an old-fashioned chariot, driven by a coachman as ancient as itself in a faded livery, and drawn by two meagre-looking, superannuated horses. But, notwithstanding its unpromising appearance, the occupants of this carriage attracted especial attention from the beholders, and many and loud were the exclamations of admiration uttered by them.
“She is beautiful!” cried one. “Enchanting!” cried another. “By far the prettiest person who has gone to the masquerade,” cried a third. And so on in the same rapturous strain.
Excited by these remarks, Mr. Cripps pressed forward to have a peep into the carriage, and found it occupied by Sir Norfolk Salusbury, and an exquisitely beautiful young female, attired with great simplicity in a dress of white satin, with wide short sleeves, as was then the mode, trimmed with deep falls of lace. A diamond necklace encircled her throat, and a few natural flowers constituted the sole ornaments of her dark abundant hair. It was Hilda Scarve, as Mr. Cripps was instantly aware, though he had scarcely time to look at her, for Sir Norfolk, out of all patience with the familiarity of the spectators, thrust him forcibly back, and ordered the coachman, in a peremptory tone, to drive on — an injunction with which the old domestic found some difficulty in complying.
And now, before entering Ranelagh, it may be proper to offer a word as to its history. Alas! for the changes and caprices of fashion! This charming place of entertainment, the delight of our grandfathers and grandmothers, the boast of the metropolis, the envy of foreigners, the renowned in song and story, the paradise of hoops and wigs, is vanished, — numbered with the things that were! — and, we fear, there is little hope of its revival. Ranelagh, it is well known, derived its designation from a nobleman of the same name, by whom the house was erected, and the gardens, esteemed the most beautiful in the kingdom, originally laid out. Its situation adjoined the Royal Hospital at Chelsea; and the date of its erection was 1690-1. Ranelagh House, on the death of the earl, in 1712, passed into the possession of his daughter, Lady Catherine Jones; but was let, about twenty years afterwards, to two eminent builders, who relet it to Lacy, afterwards patentee of Drury Lane Theatre, and commonly called Gentleman Lacy, by whom it was taken with the intention of giving concerts and breakfasts within it, on a scale far superior, in point of splendour and attraction, to any that had been hitherto attempted. In 1741, the premises were sold by Lacy to Messrs. Crispe and Meyonnet for L.4000, and the rotunda was erected in the same year by subscription. From this date, the true history of Ranelagh may be said to commence. It at once burst into fashion, and its entertainments being attended by persons of the first quality, crowds flocked in their train. Shortly after its opening, Mr. Crispe became the sole lessee; and in spite of the brilliant success of the enterprise, shared the fate of most lessees of places of public amusement, being declared bankrupt in 1744. The property was then divided into thirty shares, and so continued until Ranelagh was closed. The earliest entertainments of Ranelagh were morning concerts, consisting chiefly of oratorios, produced under the direction of Michael Festing, the leader of the band; but evening concerts were speedily introduced, the latter, it may be mentioned, to shew the difference of former fashionable hours from the present, commencing at half-past five, and concluding at nine. Thus it began, but towards its close, the gayest visitors to Ranelagh went at midnight, just as the concerts were finishing, and remained there till three or four in the morning. In 1754, the fashionable world were drawn to Ranelagh by a series of amusements called Comus’s Court; and notwithstanding their somewhat questionable title, the revels were conducted with great propriety and decorum. A procession which was introduced was managed with great effect, and several mock Italian duets were sung with remarkable spirit. Almost to its close, Ranelagh retained its character of being the finest place of public entertainment in Europe, and to the last the rotunda was the wonder and delight of every beholder. The coup-d’oeil of the interior of this structure was extraordinarily striking, and impressed all who beheld it for the first time with surprise. It was circular in form, and exactly one hundred and fifty feet in diameter. Round the lower part of the building ran a beautiful arcade, the intervals between each arch being filled up by alcoves. Over this was a gallery with a balustrade, having entrances from the exterior, and forming a sort of upper boxes. Above the gallery was a range of round-headed windows, between each of which was a carved figure supporting the roof, and forming the terminus of the column beneath. At first, the orchestra was placed in the centre of the amphitheatre, but being found exceedingly inconvenient, as well as destructive of the symmetry of the building in that situation, it was removed to the side. It contained a stage capable of accommodating thirty or forty chorus-singers. The original site of the orchestra was occupied by a large chimney, having four faces enclosed in a beautifully-proportioned hollow, hexagonal column, with arched openings at the sides, and a balustrade at the base. Richly moulded, and otherwise ornamented with appropriate designs, this enormous column had a charming effect, and gave a peculiar character t
o the whole amphitheatre. A double range of large chandeliers descended from the ceiling; others were placed within the column above mentioned, and every alcove had its lamp. When all these chandeliers and lamps were lighted, the effect was wonderfully brilliant. The external diameter of the rotunda was one hundred and eighty-five feet. It was surrounded on the outside by an arcade similar to that within, above which ran a gallery, with a roof supported by pillars, and defended by a balustrade. The main entrance was a handsome piece of architecture, with a wide, round arched gate in the centre, and a lesser entrance at either side. On the left of the rotunda stood the Earl of Ranelagh’s old mansion, a structure of some magnitude, but with little pretension to beauty, being built in the formal Dutch taste of the time of William of Orange. On the right, opposite the mansion, was a magnificent conservatory, with great pots of aloes in front. In a line with the conservatory, and the side entrance of the rotunda, stretched out a long and beautiful canal, in the midst of which stood a Chinese fishing-temple, approached by a bridge. On either side of the canal were broad gravel walks, and alleys shaded by lines of trees, and separated by trimly-clipped hedges. The gardens were exquisitely arranged with groves, bowers, statues, temples, wildernesses, and shady retreats.
Though Lady Brabazon’s carriage was within a hundred yards of the entrance of Ranelagh when Mr. Cripps and his party passed it, owing to the crowd and confusion it was nearly a quarter of an hour in setting down. Before getting out, the whole party put on their masks; and Lady Brabazon wrapped herself in a yellow silk domino. Trussell took charge of Clementina, and her ladyship fell to Randulph’s care. It was yet extremely early, but the crowd was prodigious, — many hundred persons being assembled in the area before the entrance to the rotunda. At least a thousand others were dispersed within the gardens, for the rotunda was not opened till the evening; and it was afterwards computed that more than four thousand persons attended the masquerade.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 310