The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush

  Produced by Donald Lainson

  MEMOIRS OF MR. CHARLES J. YELLOWPLUSH

  By William Makepeace Thackeray

  CONTENTS

  MISS SHUM'S HUSBAND

  THE AMOURS OF MR. DEUCEACE

  FORING PARTS

  MR. DEUCEACE AT PARIS:--

  CHAP. I. The Two Bundles of Hay

  II. "Honor thy Father"

  III. Minewvring

  IV. "Hitting the Nale on the Hedd"

  V. The Griffin's Claws

  VI. The Jewel

  VII. The Consquinsies

  VIII. The End of Mr. Deuceace's History. Limbo

  IX. The Marriage

  X. The Honey-moon

  MR. YELLOWPLUSH'S AJEW

  SKIMMINGS FROM "THE DAIRY OF GEORGE IV."

  EPISTLES TO THE LITERATI

  MEMOIRS OF MR. CHARLES J. YELLOWPLUSH

  MISS SHUM'S HUSBAND.

  CHAPTER I.

  I was born in the year one, of the present or Christian hera, and am, inconsquints, seven-and-thirty years old. My mamma called me Charles JamesHarrington Fitzroy Yellowplush, in compliment to several noble families,and to a sellybrated coachmin whom she knew, who wore a yellow livry,and drove the Lord Mayor of London.

  Why she gev me this genlmn's name is a diffiklty, or rayther the name ofa part of his dress; however, it's stuck to me through life, in which Iwas, as it were, a footman by buth.

  Praps he was my father--though on this subjict I can't speak suttinly,for my ma wrapped up my buth in a mistry. I may be illygitmit, I mayhave been changed at nuss; but I've always had genlmnly tastes throughlife, and have no doubt that I come of a genlmnly origum.

  The less I say about my parint the better, for the dear old creatur wasvery good to me, and, I fear, had very little other goodness in her.Why, I can't say; but I always passed as her nevyou. We led a strangelife; sometimes ma was dressed in sattn and rooge, and sometimes in ragsand dutt; sometimes I got kisses, and sometimes kix; sometimes gin,and sometimes shampang; law bless us! how she used to swear at me, andcuddle me; there we were, quarrelling and making up, sober and tipsy,starving and guttling by turns, just as ma got money or spent it.But let me draw a vail over the seen, and speak of her no more--its'sfishant for the public to know, that her name was Miss Montmorency,and we lived in the New Cut.

  My poor mother died one morning, Hev'n bless her! and I was left alonein this wide wicked wuld, without so much money as would buy me a pennyroal for my brexfast. But there was some amongst our naybors (and let metell you there's more kindness among them poor disrepettable creaturs,than in half a dozen lords or barrynets) who took pity upon poor Sal'sorfin (for they bust out laffin when I called her Miss Montmorency), andgev me bred and shelter. I'm afraid, in spite of their kindness, thatmy MORRILS wouldn't have improved if I'd stayed long among 'em. But abenny-violent genlmn saw me, and put me to school. The academy which Iwent to was called the Free School of Saint Bartholomew's the Less--theyoung genlmn wore green baize coats, yellow leather whatsisnames, a tinplate on the left arm, and a cap about the size of a muffing. I stayedthere sicks years; from sicks, that is to say, till my twelth year,during three years of witch I distinguished myself not a little in themusicle way, for I bloo the bellus of the church horgin, and very finetunes we played too.

  Well, it's not worth recounting my jewvenile follies (what trix weused to play the applewoman! and how we put snuff in the old clark'sPrayer-book--my eye!); but one day, a genlmn entered the school-room--itwas on the very day when I went to subtraxion--and asked the master fora young lad for a servant. They pitched upon me glad enough; and nexday found me sleeping in the sculry, close under the sink, at Mr. Bago'scountry-house at Pentonwille.

  Bago kep a shop in Smithfield market, and drov a taring good trade inthe hoil and Italian way. I've heard him say, that he cleared no lessthan fifty pounds every year by letting his front room at hanging time.His winders looked right opsit Newgit, and many and many dozen chaps hashe seen hanging there. Laws was laws in the year ten, and they screwedchaps' nex for nex to nothink. But my bisniss was at his country-house,where I made my first ontray into fashnabl life. I was knife, errint,and stable-boy then, and an't ashamed to own it; for my merrits haveraised me to what I am--two livries, forty pound a year, malt-licker,washin, silk-stocking, and wax candles--not countin wails, which issomethink pretty considerable at OUR house, I can tell you.

  I didn't stay long here, for a suckmstance happened which got me a verydifferent situation. A handsome young genlmn, who kep a tilbry and aridin horse at livry, wanted a tiger. I bid at once for the place; and,being a neat tidy-looking lad, he took me. Bago gave me a character, andhe my first livry; proud enough I was of it, as you may fancy.

  My new master had some business in the city, for he went in everymorning at ten, got out of his tilbry at the Citty Road, and had itwaiting for him at six; when, if it was summer, he spanked round intothe Park, and drove one of the neatest turnouts there. Wery proud I wasin a gold-laced hat, a drab coat and a red weskit, to sit by his side,when he drove. I already began to ogle the gals in the carridges, and tofeel that longing for fashionabl life which I've had ever since. Whenhe was at the oppera, or the play, down I went to skittles, or to WhiteCondick Gardens; and Mr. Frederic Altamont's young man was somebody, Iwarrant: to be sure there is very few man-servants at Pentonwille, thepoppylation being mostly gals of all work; and so, though only fourteen,I was as much a man down there, as if I had been as old as Jerusalem.

  But the most singular thing was, that my master, who was such a gaychap, should live in such a hole. He had only a ground-floor in JohnStreet--a parlor and a bedroom. I slep over the way, and only came inwith his boots and brexfast of a morning.

  The house he lodged in belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Shum. They were a poorbut proliffic couple, who had rented the place for many years; and theyand their family were squeezed in it pretty tight, I can tell you.

  Shum said he had been a hofficer, and so he had. He had been asub-deputy assistant vice-commissary, or some such think; and, asI heerd afterwards, had been obliged to leave on account of hisNERVOUSNESS. He was such a coward, the fact is, that he was considereddangerous to the harmy, and sent home.

  He had married a widow Buckmaster, who had been a Miss Slamcoe. She wasa Bristol gal; and her father being a bankrup in the tallow-chandleringway, left, in course, a pretty little sum of money. A thousand poundwas settled on her; and she was as high and mighty as if it had been amillium.

  Buckmaster died, leaving nothink; nothink except four ugly daughters byMiss Slamcoe: and her forty pound a year was rayther a narrow income forone of her appytite and pretensions. In an unlucky hour for Shum shemet him. He was a widower with a little daughter of three years old,a little house at Pentonwille, and a little income about as big as herown. I believe she bullyd the poor creature into marridge; and it wasagreed that he should let his ground-floor at John Street, and so addsomethink to their means.

  They married; and the widow Buckmaster was the gray mare, I cantell you. She was always talking and blustering about her famly, thecelebrity of the Buckmasters, and the antickety of the Slamcoes. Theyhad a six-roomed house (not counting kitching and sculry), and nowtwelve daughters in all; whizz.--4 Miss Buckmasters: Miss Betsy, MissDosy, Miss Biddy, and Miss Winny; 1 Miss Shum, Mary by name, Shum'sdaughter, and seven others, who shall be nameless. Mrs. Shum was a fat,red-haired woman, at least a foot taller than S.; who was but a yard anda half high, pale-faced, red-nosed, knock-kneed, bald-headed, his noseand shut-frill all brown with sn
uff.

  Before the house was a little garden, where the washin of the famly wasall ways hanging. There was so many of 'em that it was obliged to bedone by relays. There was six rails and a stocking on each, and foursmall goosbry bushes, always covered with some bit of linning or other.The hall was a regular puddle: wet dabs of dishclouts flapped in yourface; soapy smoking bits of flanning went nigh to choke you; and whileyou were looking up to prevent hanging yourself with the ropes whichwere strung across and about, slap came the hedge of a pail against yourshins, till one was like to be drove mad with hagony. The great slattnlydoddling girls was always on the stairs, poking about with nastyflower-pots, a-cooking something, or sprawling in the window-seatswith greasy curl-papers, reading greasy novels. An infernal pianna wasjingling from morning till night--two eldest Miss Buckmasters, "Battleof Prag"--six youngest Miss Shums, "In my Cottage," till I knew everynote in the "Battle of Prag," and cussed the day when "In my Cottage"was rote. The younger girls, too, were always bouncing and thumpingabout the house, with torn pinnyfores, and dogs-eard grammars, and largepieces of bread and treacle. I never see such a house.

  As for Mrs. Shum, she was such a fine lady, that she did nothink butlay on the drawing-room sophy, read novels, drink, scold, scream, and gointo hystarrix. Little Shum kep reading an old newspaper from weeks' endto weeks' end, when he was not engaged in teaching the children, or goinfor the beer, or cleanin the shoes: for they kep no servant. This housein John Street was in short a regular Pandymony.

  What could have brought Mr. Frederic Altamont to dwell in such a place?The reason is hobvius: he adoared the fust Miss Shum.

  And suttnly he did not show a bad taste; for though the other daughterswere as ugly as their hideous ma, Mary Shum was a pretty little pink,modest creatur, with glossy black hair and tender blue eyes, and a neckas white as plaster of Parish. She wore a dismal old black gownd, whichhad grown too short for her, and too tight; but it only served to showher pretty angles and feet, and bewchus figger. Master, though he hadlooked rather low for the gal of his art, had certainly looked in theright place. Never was one more pretty or more hamiable. I gav heralways the buttered toast left from our brexfust, and a cup of tea orchocklate, as Altamont might fancy: and the poor thing was glad enoughof it, I can vouch; for they had precious short commons up stairs, andshe the least of all.

  For it seemed as if which of the Shum famly should try to snub the poorthing most. There was the four Buckmaster girls always at her. It was,Mary, git the coal-skittle; Mary, run down to the public-house for thebeer; Mary, I intend to wear your clean stockens out walking, or yournew bonnet to church. Only her poor father was kind to her; and he, poorold muff! his kindness was of no use. Mary bore all the scolding likea hangel, as she was: no, not if she had a pair of wings and a gooldtrumpet, could she have been a greater hangel.

  I never shall forgit one seen that took place. It was when Master wasin the city; and so, having nothink earthly to do, I happened to belistening on the stairs. The old scolding was a-going on, and the oldtune of that hojus "Battle of Prag." Old Shum made some remark; and MissBuckmaster cried out, "Law, pa! what a fool you are!" All the gals beganlaffin, and so did Mrs. Shum; all, that is, excep Mary, who turned asred as flams, and going up to Miss Betsy Buckmaster, give her two suchwax on her great red ears as made them tingle again.

  Old Mrs. Shum screamed, and ran at her like a Bengal tiger. Her greatarms vent veeling about like a vinmill, as she cuffed and thumpedpoor Mary for taking her pa's part. Mary Shum, who was always a-cryingbefore, didn't shed a tear now. "I will do it again," she said, "ifBetsy insults my father." New thumps, new shreex; and the old horridanwent on beatin the poor girl till she was quite exosted, and fell downon the sophy, puffin like a poppus.

  "For shame, Mary," began old Shum; "for shame, you naughty gal, you! forhurting the feelings of your dear mamma, and beating your kind sister."

  "Why, it was because she called you a--"

  "If she did, you pert miss," said Shum, looking mighty dignitified, "Icould correct her, and not you."

  "You correct me, indeed!" said Miss Betsy, turning up her nose, ifpossible, higher than before; "I should like to see you erect me!Imperence!" and they all began laffin again.

  By this time Mrs. S. had recovered from the effex of her exsize, and shebegan to pour in HER wolly. Fust she called Mary names, then Shum.

  "Oh, why," screeched she, "why did I ever leave a genteel famly, whereI ad every ellygance and lucksry, to marry a creatur like this? He isunfit to be called a man, he is unworthy to marry a gentlewoman; and asfor that hussy, I disown her. Thank heaven she an't a Slamcoe; she isonly fit to be a Shum!"

  "That's true, mamma," said all the gals; for their mother had taughtthem this pretty piece of manners, and they despised their fatherheartily: indeed, I have always remarked that, in famlies where the wifeis internally talking about the merits of her branch, the husband isinvariably a spooney.

  Well, when she was exosted again, down she fell on the sofy, at her oldtrix--more screeching--more convulshuns: and she wouldn't stop, thistime, till Shum had got her half a pint of her old remedy, from the"Blue Lion" over the way. She grew more easy as she finished the gin;but Mary was sent out of the room, and told not to come back agin allday.

  "Miss Mary," says I,--for my heart yurned to the poor gal, as she camesobbing and miserable down stairs: "Miss Mary," says I, "if I might makeso bold, here's master's room empty, and I know where the cold bif andpickles is." "Oh, Charles!" said she, nodding her head sadly, "I'm tooretched to have any happytite." And she flung herself on a chair, andbegan to cry fit to bust.

  At this moment who should come in but my master. I had taken hold ofMiss Mary's hand, somehow, and do believe I should have kist it, when,as I said, Haltamont made his appearance. "What's this?" cries he,lookin at me as black as thunder, or as Mr. Phillips as Hickit, in thenew tragedy of MacBuff.

  "It's only Miss Mary, sir," answered I.

  "Get out, sir," says he, as fierce as posbil; and I felt somethink (Ithink it was the tip of his to) touching me behind, and found myself,nex minit, sprawling among the wet flannings and buckets and things.

  The people from up stairs came to see what was the matter, as I wascussin and crying out. "It's only Charles, ma," screamed out Miss Betsy.

  "Where's Mary?" says Mrs. Shum, from the sofy.

  "She's in Master's room, miss," said I.

  "She's in the lodger's room, ma," cries Miss Shum, heckoing me.

  "Very good; tell her to stay there till he comes back." And then MissShum went bouncing up the stairs again, little knowing of Haltamont'sreturn.

  . . . . . .

  I'd long before observed that my master had an anchoring after MaryShum; indeed, as I have said, it was purely for her sake that he tookand kep his lodgings at Pentonwille. Excep for the sake of love, whichis above being mersnary, fourteen shillings a wick was a LITTLE toostrong for two such rat-holes as he lived in. I do blieve the famlyhad nothing else but their lodger to live on: they brekfisted off histea-leaves, they cut away pounds and pounds of meat from his jints (healways dined at home), and his baker's bill was at least enough for six.But that wasn't my business. I saw him grin, sometimes, when I laid downthe cold bif of a morning, to see how little was left of yesterday'ssirline; but he never said a syllabub: for true love don't mind a poundof meat or so hextra.

  At first, he was very kind and attentive to all the gals; Miss Betsy,in partickler, grew mighty fond of him: they sat, for whole evenings,playing cribbitch, he taking his pipe and glas, she her tea and muffing;but as it was improper for her to come alone, she brought one of hersisters, and this was genrally Mary,--for he made a pint of asking her,too,--and one day, when one of the others came instead, he told her,very quitely, that he hadn't invited her; and Miss Buckmaster was toofond of muffings to try this game on again: besides, she was jealous ofher three grown sisters, and considered Mary as only a child. Law blessus! how she used to ogle him, and quot bits of pottry
, and play "MeetMe by Moonlike," on an old gitter: she reglar flung herself at his head:but he wouldn't have it, bein better ockypied elsewhere.

  One night, as genteel as possible, he brought home tickets for"Ashley's," and proposed to take the two young ladies--Miss Betsy andMiss Mary, in course. I recklect he called me aside that afternoon,assuming a solamon and misterus hare, "Charles," said he, "ARE YOU UP TOSNUFF?"

  "Why sir," said I, "I'm genrally considered tolerably downy."

  "Well," says he, "I'll give you half a suffering if you can manage thisbisness for me; I've chose a rainy night on purpus. When the theatre isover, you must be waitin with two umbrellows; give me one, and hold theother over Miss Buckmaster: and, hark ye, sir, TURN TO THE RIGHT whenyou leave the theater, and say the coach is ordered to stand a littleway up the street, in order to get rid of the crowd."

  We went (in a fly hired by Mr. A.), and never shall I forgit Cartliche'shacting on that memrable night. Talk of Kimble! talk of Magreedy!Ashley's for my money, with Cartlitch in the principal part. But thisis nothink to the porpus. When the play was over, I was at the door withthe umbrellos. It was raining cats and dogs, sure enough.

  Mr. Altamont came out presently, Miss Mary under his arm, and MissBetsy following behind, rayther sulky. "This way, sir," cries I, pushinforward; and I threw a great cloak over Miss Betsy, fit to smother her.Mr. A. and Miss Mary skipped on and was out of sight when Miss Betsy'scloak was settled, you may be sure.

  "They're only gone to the fly, miss. It's a little way up the street,away from the crowd of carridges." And off we turned TO THE RIGHT, andno mistake.

  After marchin a little through the plash and mud, "Has anybody seenCoxy's fly?" cries I, with the most innocent haxent in the world.

  "Cox's fly!" hollows out one chap. "Is it the vaggin you want?" saysanother. "I see the blackin wan pass," giggles out another gentlmn; andthere was such a hinterchange of compliments as you never heerd. I passthem over though, because some of 'em were not wery genteel.

  "Law, miss," said I, "what shall I do? My master will never forgive me;and I haven't a single sixpence to pay a coach." Miss Betsy was justgoing to call one when I said that; but the coachman wouldn't have it atthat price, he said, and I knew very well that SHE hadn't four or fiveshillings to pay for a wehicle. So, in the midst of that tarin rain,at midnight, we had to walk four miles, from Westminster Bridge toPentonwille; and what was wuss, I DIDN'T HAPPEN TO KNOW THE WAY. A verynice walk it was, and no mistake.

  At about half-past two, we got safe to John Street. My master was at thegarden gate. Miss Mary flew into Miss Betsy's arms, while master beguncussin and swearing at me for disobeying his orders, and TURNING TO THERIGHT INSTEAD OF TO THE LEFT! Law bless me! his hacting of hanger wasvery near as natral and as terrybl as Mr. Cartlich's in the play.

  They had waited half an hour, he said, in the fly, in the little streetat the left of the theater; they had drove up and down in the greatestfright possible; and at last came home, thinking it was in vain to waitany more. They gave her 'ot rum-and-water and roast oysters for supper,and this consoled her a little.

  I hope nobody will cast an imputation on Miss Mary for HER share in thisadventer, for she was as honest a gal as ever lived, and I do believe ishignorant to this day of our little strattygim. Besides, all's fair inlove; and, as my master could never get to see her alone, on accountof her infernal eleven sisters and ma, he took this opportunity ofexpressin his attachment to her.

  If he was in love with her before, you may be sure she paid it him backagain now. Ever after the night at Ashley's, they were as tender as twotuttle-doves--which fully accounts for the axdent what happened to me,in being kicked out of the room: and in course I bore no mallis.

  I don't know whether Miss Betsy still fancied that my master was in lovewith her, but she loved muffings and tea, and kem down to his parlor asmuch as ever.

  Now comes the sing'lar part of my history.