Part 43

"I have received so much powerful assistance from your public talents in my short dramatic career, and have enjoyed so very many pleasant hours in your private society, that I feel a great pride and gratification from this distance, where flattery cannot be suspected, nor interested motives attach themselves to praise, to express how warmly I feel and how I appreciate both your exertions and your powers.

"You have read enough of this island, I daresay, not to imagine that we live in huts on the sea-coast, or that, like our gallant forefathers, we paint ourselves blue, and vote pantaloons a prejudice. We are here surrounded by every luxury which art can furnish, or dissipation suggest, in a climate the most delightful, in a country the most beautiful, society the most gay, and pursuits the most fascinating.

"This is, by heavens, a Paradise, and not without angels. The women are all handsome (not so handsome as English women), all accomplished, their manners extremely good, wit brilliant, and good-nature wonderful; this is picking out the best! The "οι πολλοι," as we say at Oxford, are, if I may use the word, mindless--all blank--dance like devils, and better than any people, for, like all fools, they are fond of it, and naturally excel in proportion to their mental debility; for the greater the fool the better the dancer.

"In short, the whole island is like fairy-land; every hour seems happier than the last; the mildness of the air (the sweetness of which, as it passes over spice-plantations and orange-groves, is hardly conceivable), the clearness of the atmosphere, the coolness of the evenings, and the loveliness of the place itself, all combine to render it fascination. The very thought of ever quitting it is like the apprehension of the death or long parting with some near relation, and if it were not that this feeling is counteracted by having some friends at home, there is no inducement that would draw me from such a perfect _Thule_.

"Make my kind remembrances to Mrs. Mathews, and tell her that I hope to shake hands with her when we are both twaddlers--that is, when she is as much of a twaddler as old age can make her; and that when I return upon crutches from foreign parts, I trust she will direct her _son_ to pay me every attention due to my infirmities.

"We have operas in the winter, which sets in about July; our races, too, begin in July; we have an excellent beef-steak club, and the best Freemasons' lodge in the world. We have subscription concerts, and balls, and the parties in private houses here are seldom less than from two to three hundred. At the last ball given at the Government-house, upwards of seven hundred and fifty ladies were present, which, considering that the greater proportion of the female population are _not admissible_, proves the number of inhabitants, and the extent of the society.

"Pshaw! my letter is all about myself. Egotism from beginning to end. Like Argus, there are at least an hundred I's in it. Well, damn my I's, I will substitute the other vowel, and assure you that, although at this distance, I am sincerely and truly yours, and that you will find even in Maurit_ius_ U and I are not far asunder.

"I daresay some of my fat-headed friends in that little island where the beef grows fancy that I am making a fortune, considering that I am Treasurer! and Accountant-general! Fresh butter, my dear fellow, is ten shillings per pound; a coat costs thirty pounds English; a pair of gloves, fifteen shillings; a bottle of claret, the best, ten pence; and pine-apples a penny a piece. Thus, you see, while the articles necessary to existence are exorbitant, luxuries are dirt cheap, and a pretty life we do lead. Breakfast at eight, always up by gun-fire, five o'clock; bathe and ride before breakfast, after breakfast lounge about; at one have a regular meal, yclep'd a tiffen--hot meats, vegetables, &c.--and at this we sit generally through the heat of the day, drinking our wine, and munching our fruit; at five, or half-past, the carriages come to the door, and we go either in them or in palanquins to dress, which operation performed, we drive out to the race-ground, and through the Champ de Mars, the Hyde Park here, till half-past six; come into town, and at seven dine, where we remain till ten or eleven, and then join the French parties, as there is regularly a ball somewhere or other every night: these things, blended with business, make out the day and evening."

EVADING A COACH FARE.

Everybody has heard of the ingenious manner in which Sheridan evaded payment of a considerable sum for coach-hire, by inveigling Richardson into the vehicle, getting up a quarrel, no very difficult matter, then jumping out in disgust, and leaving his irritable friend to recover his composure and pay the fare. Hook, who, like all men of genius, augmented the resources of his own wit by a judicious borrowing from that of others, seems to have caught at this idea when once, under similar circumstances, he found himself, after a long and agreeable ride, without money to satisfy the coachman--a friend happened to be passing--he was hailed and taken up--but unfortunately proved to be, on inquiry, as unprepared for any pecuniary transaction as Theodore himself. A dull copyist would have broken down at once; but with a promptitude and felicity of conception that amply redeem the plagiarism, with whatever else he may be left chargeable, Hook pulled the check-string and bade the driver proceed as rapidly as possible to No. --, ---- Street, at the West End of the town, the residence of a well-known "surgeon, &c." Arrived, he ordered the coachman to "knock and ring," as desired, with energy, and on the door opening, told his friend to follow, and hastily entered the house. "Mr. ----, is he at home? I must see him immediately!" Mr. ---- soon made his appearance, when Hook, in an agitated and hurried tone, commenced:--

"My dear sir, I trust you are disengaged!" Mr. ---- bowed; "he was disengaged." "Thank Heaven!--pardon my incoherence, sir--make allowance for the feelings of a husband--_perhaps a father_--your attendance, sir, is instantly required--_instantly_--by Mrs. ----, No. --, &c., pray lose not a moment; it is a _very_ peculiar case, I assure you."

"I will start directly," replied the medical man; "I have only to run upstairs, get my apparatus, and step into my carriage."

"Ah! exactly," returned Hook; "but I am in agony till I see you fairly off--don't think of ordering out your own carriage--here's one at the door--jump into that."

Mr. ----, with a great mahogany case under his arm, made the jump, and quickly found himself at the house to which he had been directed: it was the abode of a very stiff-mannered, middle-aged maiden lady, not unknown to Hook; one, moreover, to whom he owed a grudge, a kind of debt he rarely failed to pay. The doctor was admitted, but on explaining the object of his visit, soon found it convenient to make a precipitate retreat from the claws of the infuriate spinster into the arms of the hackney-coachman, who deposited him in safety at his own door, which, however, he declined quitting without the full amount of his fare.

UNSUCCESSFUL HUNT FOR A DINNER.

Theodore Hook thus writes to Charles Mathews from the "Prince of Wales's Coffee House, 8 o'clock, September 21st, 1825:"--

"DEAR MAT.,--I never went sporting for a dinner that I bagged my bird in my life. Broderip asked me to dine with him to-day, and went out and forgot it; so, I said to myself, says I, I want to ask Mat., or Mrs. Mat., two questions about Charles's 'Trip to Rome.' So on, says I, I'll go to Millfield Lane. I did. On my way I forgot why Broderip forgot _his_ engagement;--natural enough--modern Aristophanes--beautiful view--charming grounds--pleasant company,--poor me, of course, rejected. Well, up I _goes_. Man with powder and an apron opens gate--expecting company--doesn't know whether Mr. Mathews is at home or no--goes to see--good butler, but cannot lie steadily; so out comes a woman. Satire on the sex to think they have more composure than man in a quandary.--Master not at home.--Novelty, says I, Mathews _at Home_, anybody can see: but, to see Mat. not at home, is not to be bought. 'Thank you, ma'am,' says I; and downhill I tumbled. At its foot, _ex pede_, I discovered (not _Herculem_) but the reason why you chose to deny yourself. Why didn't you come out and speak? I most ardently eschew your mutton, beef, veal, and ham. I only wanted three words of you.--That's your affair. Now, thinks I, Broderip has cut me, and Mathews has denied himself, I'll go and dine with Nash. Nash dined _out_, waiting for the great gentleman from _Berkshire_. I called upon Lyon (_James_), but, like his namesake, he had _abdicated_. Met Sir Hudson Lowe--did not ask me; called at Elliott's--_they_ dined _out_; so I damned my fate, and ordered dinner at seven here, and here I am; and so I will punish your long legs with a threepenny. Write to me, or ask Mrs. Mat. to write, and tell me of the name of the _tune_ of 'The Trip to Rome,' which it is essential to know; and, if she can furnish me with the _second_ verse _complete_, I should be obliged, for Charles has sent only half the stanza.

"Despatch in all this is important: it is a very, _very_ clever production, and Charles _shall_ be, what I am sure he _will_, an honour and a blessing to you both; and so I, in the dumps as I am, pray he may."

HOOK AT LORD MELVILLE'S TRIAL.

On the occasion of Lord Melville's trial, Theodore Hook was present with a friend.

They went early, and were engaged in conversation when the Peers began to enter. At this moment a country-looking lady, whom he afterwards found to be a resident at Rye, in Sussex, touched his arm, and said: "I beg your pardon, sir, but pray who are those gentlemen in red now coming in?" "Those, ma'am," returned Theodore, "are the Barons of England; in these cases the junior peers always come first." "Thank you, sir, much obliged to you. Louisa, my dear (turning to a girl about fourteen), tell Jane (about ten), those are the Barons of England; and the juniors (that's the youngest, you know,) always goes first. Tell her to be sure and remember that when we get home." "Dear me, ma!" said Louisa, "can that gentleman be one of the _youngest_? I am sure he looks very old." Human nature, added Hook, could not stand this; any one, though with no more mischief in him than a dove, must have been excited to a hoax. "And pray, sir," continued the lady, "what gentlemen are those?" pointing to the Bishops, who came next in order, in the dress which they wear on state occasions, viz., the scarlet and lawn sleeves over their doctors' robes. "Gentlemen, ma'am!" said Hook, "those are not gentlemen; those are _ladies_, elderly ladies--the Dowager Peeresses in their own right." The fair inquirer fixed a penetrating glance upon his countenance, saying, as plainly as an eye can say, "Are you quizzing me or no?" Not a muscle moved; till at last, tolerably satisfied with her scrutiny, she turned round and whispered, "Louisa, dear, the gentleman _says_ that these are elderly ladies, and Dowager Peeresses in their own right; tell Jane not to forget _that_!" All went on smoothly till the Speaker of the House of Commons attracted her attention by the rich embroidery of his robes. "Pray, sir," said she, "and who is that fine-looking person opposite?" "That, madam," was the answer, "is Cardinal Wolsey!" "No, sir!" cried the lady, drawing herself up, and casting at her informant a look of angry disdain, "we knows a little better than that; Cardinal Wolsey has been dead many a good year!" "No such thing, my dear madam, I assure you," replied Hook, with a gravity that must have been almost preternatural; "it has been, I know, so reported in the country, but without the least foundation; in fact, those rascally newspapers will say anything." The good old gentlewoman appeared thunderstruck, opened her eyes to their full extent, and gasped like a dying carp; _vox faucibus hæsit_, seizing a daughter with each hand, she hurried without a word from the spot.--_Ingoldsby Legends_, 3rd series, p. 69.

THE THIRTY-NINE ARTICLES.

Hook had been entered at St. Mary's Hall: his friends would have preferred a residence at Exeter College, but to this, as entailing a somewhat more strict observance of discipline than was compatible with his habits, he himself positively objected. A compromise was effected, and he was placed under the charge of his brother, and presented by him to the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Parsons, Head of Balliol, and afterwards Bishop of Peterborough, for matriculation. The ceremony was well-nigh stopped _in limine_, in consequence of an ill-timed piece of facetiousness on the part of the candidate. On being asked if he was prepared to subscribe to the Thirty-nine Articles:

"Oh, certainly, sir," replied Theodore; "_forty, if you please_."[77]

The horror of the Vice-Chancellor may be imagined. The young gentleman was desired to withdraw; and it required all the interest of his brother, who fortunately happened to be a personal friend of Dr. Parsons, to induce the latter to overlook the offence. The joke, such as it is, was probably picked out of one of Foote's farces, who makes Mrs. Simony, if we mistake not, say, when speaking of her husband the Doctor (intended for the unfortunate Dr. Dodd), "He believes in all the Thirty-nine Articles; ay, and so he would if there were forty of them."--_Barham._

"CHAFFING" A PROCTOR.

On the evening of Hook's arrival at the University, he contrived to give his brother the slip, and joined a party of old schoolfellows in a carouse at one of the taverns. Sundry bowls of "Bishop," and of a popular compound yclept "Egg-flip"--the Cambridge men call it "Silky," to the _nondum graduati_ of Oxford it is known by a _nomen accidentale_ which we have forgotten,--having been discussed; songs, amatory and Bacchanalian, having been sung with full choruses; and altogether the jocularity having begun to pass "the limit of becoming mirth," the Proctor made his appearance; and, advancing to the table at which the "Freshman"--fresh in every sense of the word--was presiding, put the usual question,--

"Pray, sir, are you a member of this University?"

"No, sir," replied Hook, rising and bowing respectfully. "Pray, sir, are you?"

A little disconcerted at the extreme gravity of the other, the Proctor held out his ample sleeve--"You see this, sir?"

"Ah," returned Hook, having examined the fabric with great earnestness for a few seconds, "yes; I perceive--Manchester velvet--and may I take the liberty, sir, of inquiring how much you might have paid per yard for the article?"

The quiet imperturbability of manner with which this was uttered was more than the Rev. gentleman could stand; and, muttering something about "supposing it was a mistake," he effected a retreat, amid shouts of laughter from Hook's companions, in which the other occupants of the coffee-room, the waiters, and even his own "bull-dogs" were constrained to join.--_Barham._

SUMMARY PROCEEDINGS OF WINTER.

Of Hook's improvisations, while at the Mauritius, a stanza of one, in which the names of the company seem to have furnished, each, the subject of an epigram, is extant; it runs as follows:--

"We have next Mr. Winter, assessor of taxes, I'd advise you to pay him whatever he _axes_, Or you'll find, and I say it without any flummery, Tho' his name may be Winter, his actions are _summary_."

"SOMETHING WRONG IN THE CHEST."

At St. Helena, Hook encountered the late Lord Charles Somerset, on his way to assume the governorship of the Cape. Lord Charles, who had met him in London occasionally, and knew nothing of his arrest, said, "I hope you are not going home for your health, Mr. Hook." "Why," said Theodore, "I am sorry to say, they think there is something wrong in the _chest_."--_Quarterly Review_, vol. lxxiii., p. 73.

WARREN'S BLACKING.

In the art of punning, whatever be its merits or de-merits, Hook had few rivals, and but one superior, if indeed one--we mean Mr. Thomas Hood. Among the innumerable "Theodores" on record, it will be difficult, of course, to pick out the best; but what he himself considered to be such, was addressed to the late unfortunate Mr. F----, an artist, who subsequently committed suicide at the "Salopian" coffee-house for love, as it is said, of a popular actress. They were walking in the neighbourhood of Kensington, when the latter pointing out on a dead wall an incomplete or half-effaced inscription, running "Warren's B----," was puzzled at the moment for the want of the context.

"'Tis _lacking_ that should follow," observed Hook, in explanation. Nearly as good was his remark on the Duke of Darmstadt's brass band.

"They well-nigh stun one," said he, in reference to a morning concert, "with those terrible wind instruments, which roar away in defiance of all rule, except that which Hoyle addresses to young whist-players when in doubt--_trump it!_"

THE WINE-CELLAR AND THE BOOK-SELLER.

Theodore Hook's saying to some man with whom a bibliopolist dined the other day, and got extremely drunk, "Why, you appear to me to have emptied your _wine_-cellar into your _book_-seller."--_Moore's Diary_, Feb., 1836.

SIR ROBERT PEEL'S ANECDOTES OF THEODORE HOOK.

The late Sir Robert Peel was strongly impressed with Hook's conversational powers and the genuine readiness of his wit; in illustration of this, he used to relate, among others, the following anecdote:--One morning, at Drayton Manor, where Hook was staying as a guest, some one after breakfast happened to read out from the newspaper a paragraph, in which a well-known coroner was charged with having had a corpse unnecessarily disinterred. The ladies were very severe in condemnation of such unfeeling conduct; a gallant captain, however, who was present, took up the cudgels in behalf of the accused, maintaining that he was a very kind-hearted man, and incapable of doing anything without strong reasons, calculated to annoy the friends of the deceased. The contest waxed warm: "Come," said Captain ----, at length, turning to Hook, who was poring over the _Times_ in a corner of the room, and who had taken no part in the discussion, "you know W----, what do you think of him? Is he not a good-tempered, good-natured fellow?"

"Indeed he is," replied Hook, laying aside his paper, "I should say he was just the very man to _give a body a lift_."

On the same authority, we may repeat a pun made at the expense of the Duke of Rutland. There was a grand entertainment at Belvoir Castle, on the occasion of the coming of age of the Marquis of Granby; the company were going out to see the fireworks, when Hook came, in great tribulation, to the Duke, who was standing near Sir Robert, and said, "Now isn't this provoking! I've lost my hat--what can I do?" "Why the deuce," returned his grace, "did you part with your hat?--I never do!" "Yes," rejoined Theodore, "but you have especially good reasons for sticking to your _Beaver_."[78]

A RECEIPT AGAINST NIGHT AIR.

"Theodore Hook," writes a friend, "had a receipt of his own to prevent invalids from being exposed to the night air. I remember his once taking me home from a party in his cab, between four and five o'clock on a brilliant morning in July. I made some remark, soon after we had passed Hyde Park Corner, about the reviving quality of the air after the heated rooms we had been in. 'Ah,' said Hook, 'you may depend on it, my dear fellow, that there is nothing more injurious to health than the night air. I was very ill some months ago, and my doctor gave me particular orders not to expose myself to it.' 'I hope,' said I, 'you attended to them?' 'O yes!' said he, 'strictly; I came up every day to Crockford's or some other place to dinner, and I made it a rule on no account to go home again till about this hour in the morning.'"

PUNTING.

"In the course of our fishing, we had been punted down the river opposite to Lord ----'s house, and while seated in front of it, he remarked that he used to be on very friendly terms with the noble owner; but that a coolness had lately sprung up between them, in consequence of his lordship having taken umbrage at the epitaph (pointed with a clever but objectionable pun) he had composed for his late brother, so unhappily notorious for the charges brought against him of false play at whist. On seeing the present Peer out on the river fishing, Hook had received from him, instead of his usual courteous greeting, a very stiff, ceremonious bow; but, determined not to notice it, he only replied:--

"'What, my lord, following the family occupation, eh?--_punting_, I see--punting!'"

An impromptu of Hook's on the same subject, ran the round of the club-houses. It will be remembered that the nobleman alluded to brought an action for defamation against certain of his accusers, which, however, he thought proper to abandon at the last moment.

EPIGRAM.

"Cease your humming, The case is 'on;' Defendant's _Cumming_; Plaintiff's--gone!"

"LIST" SHOES.

The Duke of B----, who was to have been one of the knights at the Eglinton Tournament, was lamenting that he was obliged to excuse himself, on the ground of an attack of the gout.

"How," said he, "could I ever get my poor puffed legs into those abominable iron boots?"

"It will be quite as appropriate," replied Hook, "if your Grace goes in your _list_ shoes."

"THE ABATTOIR."

When Messrs. Abbott and Egerton, in 1836, took the old Coburg Theatre (the Victoria), for the purpose of bringing forward the legitimate drama, the former gentleman asked Hook if he could suggest a new name, the old being too much identified with blue fire and broad swords to suit the proposed change of performance. "Why," said Theodore, "as, of course, you will butcher everything you attempt, suppose you call it the _Abattoir_."

PUTNEY BRIDGE.

Hook's residence at Putney afforded occasion for the delivery of one of the best of his best _bon-mots_. A friend, viewing Putney bridge from the little terrace that overhung the Thames, observed that he had been informed that it was a very good investment, and, turning to his host, inquired "if such was the case--if the bridge really answered?"

"I don't know," said Theodore, "but you have only to cross it, and you are sure to be _tolled_."

"MR. THOMPSON IS TIRED."

Some years ago an ingenious representation of the destruction of a Swiss village by an avalanche was exhibited at the Diorama in the Regent's Park, the effect of which was greatly increased by a clever vocal imitation of the dreary winter wind whistling through the mountains; but this sound ceasing whilst the exigencies of the scene still demanded its continuance, Theodore Hook, who was present, exclaimed, "_Bless me, Mr. Thompson is tired_," which set the spectators laughing, nor could they at all resume the awe-struck gravity with which they had previously witnessed the tragic picture.--_Edinburgh Review_, July, 1859.

THE ORIGINAL "PAUL PRY."

Tom Hill, the real original "Paul Pry," was reported to be of great age; and Theodore Hook circulated the apology that his baptismal register could not be found, because it was burnt in the Tower of London.--_Henry Crabb Robinson's Diary._