CHAPTER VI. VAUXHALL. I KNOW that the tune I am piping is a very mild one (although there are some terrific chapters coming presently) and must beg the good-natured reader to remember, that we are only discoursing at present, about a stock-broker's family in Russellsquare, who are taking walks, or luncheon, or dinner, or talking and making love as people do in common life, and without a single passionate and wonderful incident to mark the progress of their loves. The argument stands thus-Osborne in love with Amelia, has asked an old friend to dinner and to Vauxhall-Jos Sedley is in love with Rebecca. Will he marry her? That is the great subject now in hand. We might have treated this subject in the genteel, or in the romantic, or in the facetious manner. Suppose we had laid the scene in Grosvenor-square, with the very same adventures-would not some people have listened? Suppose we had shown how Lord Joseph Sedley fell in love, and the Marquis of Osborne became attached to Lady Amelia, with the full consent of the duke, her noble father: or instead of the supremely genteel, suppose we had resorted to the entirely low, and described what was going on in Mr. Sedley's kitchen; how black Sambo was in love with the cook (as indeed he was), and how he fought a battle with the coachman in her behalf; how the knife-boy was caught stealing a cold shoulder of mutton, and Miss Sedley's new femme de chambre refused to go to bed without a wax candle; such incidents might be made to provoke much delightful laughter, and be supposed to represent scenes of "life." Or if, on the contrary, we had taken a fancy for the terrible, and made the lover of the new femme de chambre a professional burglar, who bursts into the house with his band, slaughters black Sambo at the feet of his master, and carries off Amelia in her night-dress, not to be let loose again till the third volume, we should easily have constructed a tale of thrilling interest, through the fiery chapters of which the reader should hurry panting. Fancy this chapter having been headed THE NIGHT ATTACK. a staff rent in twain by the flash, were all that remained of stout Will Steadfast. A hackney coachman had been blown off his coach-box, in Southampton Row and whither? But the whirlwind tells no tidings of its victim, save his parting scream as he is borne onward! Horrible night! It was dark, pitch dark; no moon. No, no. No moon. Not a star. Not a little feeble, twinkling, solitary star. There had been one at early evening, but he showed Lis face, shuddering, for a moment in the black heaven, and then retreated back. One, two, three! It is the signal that Black Vizard had agreed on. 46 Nuffle your clod, and beladle your glumbanions," said Vizard, with a dreadful oath. This way, men; if they screak, out with your snickers and slick! Look to the pewter room, Blowser. You, Mark, to the old gaff's mopus box! and I," added he, in a lower but more horrible voice, "I will look to Amelia!" There was a dead silence. "Ha!" said Vizard, “was that the click of a pistol?" Or suppose we adopted the genteel rosewater style. The Marquis of Osborne has just despatched his petit tigre with a billetdour to the Lady Amelia. The dear creature has received it from the hand of her femme de chambre, Mademoiselle Anastasie. Dear Marquis! what amiable politeness! His lordship's note contains the wished-for invitation to Devonshire House! "Who is that monstrous fine girl," said the Semillant Prince G-rge of C-mbr-dge, at a mansion in Piccadilly the same evening (having just arrived from the omnibus at the opera). My dear Sedley, in the name of all the Cupids, introduce me to her!" "Her name, Monseigneur," said Lord Joseph, bowing gravely, "is Sedley." 66 "Vous avez alors un bien beau nom," said the young prince, turning on his heel rather disappointed, and treading on the foot of an old gentleman who stood behind, in deep admiration of the beautiful Lady Amelia. "Trente mille tonnerres!" shouted the victim, writhing under the agonie du moment. "I beg a thousand pardons of your grace," said the young étourdi, blushing, and bending low his fair curls. He had trodden on the toe of the great captain of the age! 66 The night was dark and wild-the clouds black-black-ink-black. The wild wind tore the chimney-pots from the roofs of the "Oh, Devonshire !" cried the young old houses and sent the tiles whirling and prince, to a tall and good-natured nobleman, crashing through the desolate streets. No whose features proclaimed him of the blood soul braved that tempest-the watchmen of the Cavendishes. "A word with you! shrank into their boxes, whither the search- Have you still a mind to part with your ing rain followed them-where the crashing diamond necklace?" thunderbolt fell and destroyed them-one "I have sold it for two hundred and fifty had so been slain opposite the Foundling. thousand pounds, to Prince Easterhazy A scorched gaberdine, a shivered lantern, here." "Und das war gar nicht theuer, potztau- | who dropped some hints to the lady's-maid, send!" exclaimed the princely Hungarian, who may have cursorily mentioned it to the &c., &c., &c. . . cook, who carried the news, I have no doubt, to all the tradesmen, so that Mr. Jos's marriage was now talked of by a very considerable number of persons in the Russell-square world. Thus you see, ladies, how this story might have been written, if the author had but a mind; for, to tell the truth, he is just as familiar with Newgate as with the palaces of our revered aristocracy, and has seen the outside of both. But as I don't understand the language or manners of the Rookery, nor that polyglot conversation which, according to the fashionable novelists, is spoken by the leaders of ton; we must, if you please, preserve our middle course modestly, amid those scenes and personages with which we are most familiar. In a word, this chapter about Vauxhall would have been so exceedingly short but for the above little disquisition, that it scarcely would have deserved to be called a chapter at all. And yet it is a chapter, and a very important one too. Are not there little chapters in every body's life, that seem to be nothing, and yet affect all the rest of the history? Let us then step into the coach with the Russell-square party, and be off to the gardens. There is barely room between Jos and Miss Sharp, who are on the front seat. Mr. Osborne sitting bodkin opposite, between Captain Dobbin and Amelia. Every soul in the coach agreed, that on that night, Jos would propose to make Rebecca Sharp Mrs. Sedley. The parents at home had acquiesced in the arrangement, though, between ourselves, old Mr. Sedley had a feeling very much akin to contempt for his son. He said he was vain, selfish, lazy, and effeminate. He could not endure his airs as a man of fashion, and laughed heartily at his pompous braggadocio stories. "I shall leave the fellow half my property," he said, "and he will have, besides, plenty of his own; but as I am perfectly sure that if you, and I, and his sister were to die tomorrow he would say Good Gad!' and eat his dinner just as well as usual, I am not going to make myself anxious about him. Let him marry whom he likes. It's no affair of mine." Amelia, on the other hand, as became a young woman of her prudence and temperament, was quite enthusiastic for the match. Once or twice Jos had been on the point of saying something very important to her, to which she was most willing to lend an ear, but the fat fellow could not be brought to unbosom himself of his great secret, and very much to his sister's disappointment he only rid himself of a large sigh, and turned away. 66 It was, of course, Mrs. Sedley's opinion that her son would demean himself by a marriage with an artist's daughter. "But, lor', ma'am," ejaculated Mrs. Blenkinsop, we was only grocers when we married Mr. S., who was a stock-broker's clerk, and we hadn't five hundred pounds among us, and we're rich enough now." And Amelia was entirely of this opinion, to which, gradually, the good-natured Mrs. Sedley was brought. Mr. Sedley was neutral "Let Jos marry whom he likes," he said; it's no affair of mine. This girl has no fortune; no more had Mrs. Sedley. She seems good-humored and clever, and will keep him in order, perhaps. Better she, my dear, than a black Mrs. Sedley, and a dozen of mahogany grandchildren." So that every thing seemed to smile upon Rebecca's fortunes. She took Jos's arm, as a matter of course, on going to dinner; she had sate by him on the box of his open carIriage (a most tremendous "buck" he was, as he sat there, serene, in state, driving his grays), and though nobody said a word on the subject of the marriage, every body seemed to understand it. All she wanted was the proposal, and ah! how Rebecca now felt the want of a mother! a dear, tender mother, who would have managed the business in ten minutes, and, in the course of a little delicate confidential conversation, would have extracted the interesting avowal from the bashful lips of the young man! Such was the state of affairs as the carriage crossed Westminster Bridge. The party was landed at the Royal Gardens in due time. As the majestic Jos stepped out of the creaking vehicle the crowd gave a cheer for the fat gentleman, who blushed and looked very big and mighty, as he walked away with Rebecca under his arm. George, of course, took charge of Amelia. She looked as happy as a rosetree in sunshine. "I say, Dobbin," says George, "just look to the shawls and things, there's a good fellow." And so while he paired off with Miss Sedley, and Jos squeezed through the gate into the gardens with Rebecca at his side, honest Dobbin contented himself by giving an arm to the shawls, and by paying at the door for the whole party. This mystery served to keep Amelia's He walked very modestly behind them. gentle bosom in a perpetual flutter of ex- He was not willing to spoil sport. About citement. If she did not speak with Re- Rebecca and Jos he did not care a fig. But becca on the tender subject, she compensa- he thought Amelia worthy even of the bril ted herself with long and intimate conversa- liant George Osborne, and as he saw that tions with Mrs. Blenkinsop, the housekeeper, good-looking couple, threading the walks to $2 the girl's delight and wonder, he watched walk, in which there were not above five score more of couples similarly straying, they such a degree, that he told her several of "How I should like to see India!" said Rebecca. her artless happiness with a sort of fatherly pleasure. Perhaps he felt that he would have liked to have something on his own arm besides a shawl (the people laughed at seeing the gawky young officer carrying this female burthen); but William Dobbin was very little addicted to selfish calculation at all; and so long as his friend was enjoying himself, how should he be discontented? And the truth is, that of all the delights of the gardens; of the hundred thousand extra lamps, which were always lighted; the fid-ness and confidence of that gentleman to dlers, in cocked hats, who played ravishing melodies under the gilded cockle-shell in the midst of the gardens; the singers, both of comic and sentimental ballads, who charmed the ears there; the country dances, formed by bouncing cockneys and cockneyesses, and executed amid jumping, thumping, and laughter; the signal which announced that Madame Saqui was about to mount skyward on a slack-rope ascending to the stars; the hermit that always sat in the illuminated hermitage; the dark walks, so favorable to the interviews of young lovers; the pots of stout handed about by the people in the shabby old liveries; and the twinkling boxes, in which the happy feasters made-believe to eat slices of almost invisible ham; of all these things, and of the gentle Simpson, that kind smiling idiot, who, I dare say, presided even then over the place-Captain William Dob-larly lively-but he paraded twice before tho bin did not take the slightest notice. He carried about Amelia's white cashmere shawl, and having attended under the gilt cockle-shell, while Mrs. Salmon performed the Battle of Borodino (a savage cantata against the Corsican upstart, who had lately met with his Russian reverses)Mr. Dobbin tried to hum it as he walked away, and found he was humming-the tune which Amelia Sedley sang on the stairs, as she came down to dinner. He burst out laughing at himself; for the truth is, he could sing no better than an owl. It is to be understood, as a matter of course, that our young people, being in parties of two and two, made the most solemn promises to keep together during the evening, and separated in ten minutes afterward. Parties at Vauxhall always did separate, but 'twas only to meet again at supper-time, when they could talk of their mutual adventures in the interval. What were the adventures of Mr. Osborne and Miss Amelia? That is a secret. But be sure of this--they were perfectly happy, and correct in their behavior; and as they had been in the habit of being together any time these fifteen years, their tête-à-tête offered no particular novelty. But when Miss Rebecca Sharp and her stout companion lost themselves in a solitary 66 Should you?" said Joseph, with a most killing tenderness; and was no doubt about to follow up this artful interrogatory by a question still more tender (for he puffed and panted a great deal, and Rebecca's hand, which was placed near his heart, could count the feverish pulsations of that organ), when, oh, provoking! the bell rang for the fireworks, and a great scuffling and running taking place, these interesting lovers were obliged to follow in the stream of the people. Captain Dobbin had some thoughts of joining the party at supper; as, in truth, he found the Vauxhall amusement not particu box where the now united couples were met, and nobody took any notice of him. Covers were laid for four. The mated pairs were prattling away quite happily, and Dobbin knew he was as clean forgotten as if he had never existed in this world. "I should only be de trop," said the captain, looking at them rather wistfully. "I'd best go and talk to the hermit"-and so he strolled off out of the hum of men, and noise, and clatter of the banquet, into the dark walk, at the end of which lived that well-known pasteboard solitary. It wasn't very good fun for Dobbin-and, indeed, to be alone at Vauxhall, I have found, from my own experience, to be one of the most dismal sports ever entered into by a bachelor. The two couples were perfectly happy then in their box: where the most delightful and intimate conversation took place. He made the Jos was in his glory; ordering about the waiters with great majesty. salad; and uncorked the champagne; and carved the chickens; and ate and drank the greater part of the refreshments on the tables. Finally, he insisted upon having a bowl of rack punch; every body had rack Waiter, rack punch." punch at Vauxhall. That bowl of rack punch was the cause of all this history. And why not a bowl of rack punch as well as any other cause? Was not a bowl of prussic acid the cause of fair Rosamond's retiring from the world? 66 |