Project Gutenberg's Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 3., by Samuel Warren This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license Title: Ten Thousand a-Year. Volume 3. Author: Samuel Warren Release Date: October 30, 2012 [EBook #41247] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR. VOLUME 3. *** Produced by Matthias Grammel, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR. VOL. III. TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR. BY SAMUEL WARREN, F.R.S. Vol. III. BOSTON: LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 1900. University Press: [Pg iii] [Pg iv] JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE. CONTENTS TO VOL. III. CHAP. PAGE I. The great game at chess, between Mr. Gammon and Mr. Crafty, which typifies an English election, and how it is lost and won.— The day of battle arrives 1. II. The fight waxes hot; and after surprising fluctuation, a glorious victory is gained.—Serious incidents for the consideration of the victors, who have also to fight another battle on new ground.— Mr. Titmouse acquires sudden distinction in the House of Commons.—Mr. Titmouse becomes a Fellow of the Credulous Society, under the auspices of Dr. Diabolus Gander, performs scientific experiments in the streets at night, and saves the Ministry 43. III. Lady Cecilia is married to Mr. Titmouse; and the Earl enters, under Mr. Gammon's auspices, on an adventurous career.—An affecting letter of Lady Cecilia Titmouse.—A deadly struggle between a snake and an ape 124. IV. Mr. Gammon offers his hand and heart to Miss Aubrey. An exciting love scene in which Kate behaves with great propriety.—Mr. Gammon's skilful manœuvres to crush Mr. Aubrey; and they seem seconded by fate 173. V. Mr. Aubrey disregards Gammon's advice, and becomes the guest of Mr. Grab.—Mr. Gammon's profound strategies 218. VI. Kate communicates a secret told her by Mr. Gammon, who secures her brother a night with Mr. Vice.—Kate's diamond necklace; Mr. Runnington's munificence; Lady Stratton's £15,000 policy, which Gammon angles for 260. VII. The descent of the Vulture; and other matters of moment to Gammon.—The Artificial-Rain Company evaporates; and a remarkable scene between Mr. Gammon and the Earl of Dreddlington 295. VIII. The Earl of Dreddlington's bed-side; and Gammon's interview with the Duke of Tantallan.—Lord De la Zouch comes on the scene again; an Attorney-General's suggestion; and Gammon frightened by his own proctor.—Lord De la Zouch with the Aubreys 338. IX. Mr. Gammon with the Earl of Dreddlington, whose intellect melts away before him. Mr. Gammon getting into deep waters and dragging his great friends after him.—What moles in the ecclesiastical court can do under ground 378. X. Glances of daylight into a glen of fraud, and reptiles seen wriggling about in alarm.—What is Gammon to do?—Mr. Titmouse makes an equitable proposal to Kate Aubrey.—The scorpion in the fiery circle. Mr. Gammon's skilful exit 412. XI. The Earl of Dreddlington's bankruptcy and death; and Lord Drelincourt appears on the scene.—Mudflint, Woodlouse, and Bloodsuck in a bad way; and Sir Harkaway's awkward position 455. [Pg v] [Pg vi] XII. Mr. Titmouse on his last legs.—Mr. Tag-rag's final adventures; a sudden glimpse of Gammon again; and the last of Mr. Quirk.— True nobility; Yatton itself again; and Kate Aubrey's disappearance 488. Notes 537. TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR. CHAPTER I. There had not been a contested election at Yatton, till the present one between Mr. Delamere and Mr. Titmouse, for a long series of years; its two members having been, till then, owing to the smallness of the constituency, their comparative unanimity of political sentiment, and the dominant influence of the Yatton family, returned, pretty nearly, as a matter of course. When, therefore, quiet little Yatton (for such it was, albeit politically enlarged by the new Act) became the scene of so sudden and hot a contest as that which I am going to describe, and under such novel and exciting circumstances, it seemed in a manner quite beside itself. The walls were everywhere covered with glaring placards— red, blue, green, yellow, white, purple—judiciously designed to stimulate the electors into a calm and intelligent exercise of their important functions. Here are the inscriptions upon a few of them:— "Vote for Titmouse, the Man of the People!" "Titmouse and Civil and Religious Liberty!" "Titmouse and Cheap Ale!" "Titmouse and Purity of Election!" "Titmouse and Negro Emancipation!" "Vote for Titmouse and No Mistake!" "Titmouse and Quarterly Parliaments, Vote by Ballot, and Universal Suffrage!" ['Twas thus that the name of my little friend, like that of many others of his species, was attached to great public questions, somewhat after the manner of a kettle tied to a dog's tail!] But others were to be met with of a more elaborate and impressive character. "Electors of Yatton!! Be not deceived!!! The enemy is among you! Do you wish to reap the full fruits of the glorious boon lately conferred on you? Rush to the poll, and Vote for Titmouse. Do you wish to see them torn from your grasp by a selfish and arrogant aristocracy? Get a pair of handcuffs, and go and vote for—Mr. Delamere!!!! "Quære. If a certain Boroughmongering Peer should command his son to vote for the REPEAL of the Great Bill which enfranchised the inhabitants of Grilston, Succombe, and Warkleigh—would not that son obey him? How would this be, Mr. Delamere?" 'Twas not, to give the devil his due, Mr. Titmouse's fault that his placards did not contain many vulgar personalities against his opponent; but owing entirely to Mr. Gammon's want of the requisite wit and spirit. That gentleman felt, in fact, that such a candidate as Mr. Delamere afforded but few salient points of attack, in respect either of his person, his position in society, or his conduct. He also, by the way, had his placards:— "Vote for Delamere!" "Delamere and Independence!" "Vote for Delamere the Farmer's Friend!" "Delamere and the Constitution in Church and State!" Both the candidates established their headquarters at Grilston; Mr. Delamere at the "Hare and Hounds" Inn, Mr. Titmouse at the "Woodlouse." Over the bow-window of the former streamed a noble blue banner, with an [Pg 1] [Pg 2] [Pg 3] emblazonment of the Bible and Crown, and the words, "Church, King, and Constitution—Old England forever!" Over the latter hung an immense yellow banner, with three stars, thus:— card (being the, "Three Polar Stars" spoken of in Mr. Titmouse's Address,) and the words—"Peace! Retrenchment!! Reform!!!" in immense gilt letters. The walls and windows of each were, moreover, covered with varicolored placards —but I shall not weary the reader by attempting to describe in detail the humors of a country election, which have employed, already, thousands of able and graphic pens and pencils. Surely, what else are they than the sticks and straws which float along the eddying and roughened surface? The whole mass of water is moving along; and our object should be rather to discover its depth, force, and direction. Principles are in conflict; the fate of the nation is, in a measure, involved in a popular election. Such matters as I have alluded to, are but the laughable devices resorted to, in order to delude the grinning vulgar, and disguise the movements of those calm and calculating persons who are playing the deep game of politics. Under cover of a ludicrous hubbub, might be observed, for instance, in this little borough— subject to certain petty local disturbing forces—a deadly struggle for ascendency between the monarchical and the democratical principle; between rampant innovation and obstinate immobility; between the wealthy few and the many poor; between property and ability. If anything like this were the case, how many of the electors—new or old—of Yatton—(who may perhaps be compared to chessmen in the hands of long-headed players)—knew any more about the matter than a private soldier at Waterloo thought of, comprehended, or appreciated, the complicated and mighty schemes of a Wellington or Napoleon, whose bidding he was doing, or of the prodigious consequences attached to the success or failure of either? Some people talk vehemently about the "paramount necessity for educating the lower classes." It is, indeed, of incalculable importance that they should be instructed; but is it not of still greater importance that the UPPER CLASSES should be instructed, if only on account of their being the holders of that PROPERTY, in greater or less proportions, with its inseparable power and influence, which, directly or indirectly, determines all the movements of the state? Could universal suffrage be supposed to exist consistently with the preservation of social order—of society —it would still be impossible to extirpate or effectually to counteract the influence of property, in whose hands soever it might be placed. Pluck out of the vilest of the bellowing bullies surrounding the hustings, him (of course a non-elector) most conspicuous for his insolence and brutality; imagine him suddenly or gradually become the owner of a great, or a small property, with the influence it gives him over customers, tenants, dependents: do you suppose that he will not at once, either gently or roughly, according to his temper, begin to exercise his power, (that which is so dear to the heart of man,) by dictating the exercise of the elective franchise on behalf of those political opinions which he may happen to favor? Is not THIS the man to instruct, and the better in proportion to the extent of his real influence? Except in those brief and horrid intervals of social convulsion, in which [Greek: dika kai panta palin strepetai], however popularized and extended may apparently be the system of electing parliamentary representatives, those who really return members to Parliament will—whether themselves actually electors or not, and whether directly or indirectly—be the holders of property, in villages, in towns, in cities, in boroughs and counties. The influence of property is, in truth, inevitable as that of gravitation: and losing sight of this, people may split their heads in vain, and chatter till the arrival of the Greek kalends, about extending farther and farther the elective franchise, shortening Parliaments, and voting by ballot. Whether it ought to be so, signifies little, when we know that it is, and will be so:—but now it is time to return to the Yatton election; and if I be but this once forgiven, I will not diverge again in a hurry from the main course of events. Lord De la Zouch, who resided some eight or ten miles from Yatton, soon discovered, as also did sundry other able and experienced electioneering friends, taking an interest in his son's success, that the movements of the enemy were directed by a strong and skilful hand; and which never could be that of—Mr. Titmouse. However slight and faint may be the hopes of success with which a man enters into an interesting and important undertaking, they very soon begin to increase and brighten with eager action; and it was so with Lord De la Zouch. He was not long in tracing the powerful, but cautiously concealed agency of our friend Mr. Gammon. One or two such dangerous and artful snares were detected by the watchful and practised eyes of his Lordship and his friends, just in time to prevent Delamere from being seriously compromised, as satisfied them that good Mr. Parkinson, with all his bustle, energy, and heartiness, was dreadfully overmatched by his astute opponent, Mr. Gammon; and that in the hands of Mr. Parkinson, the contest would become, so far as Delamere was concerned, a painful and ridiculous farce. A council of war, therefore, was called at Fotheringham Castle; the result of which was an express being sent off to London, to bring down immediately a first-rate electioneering agent—Mr. Crafty—and place in his hands the entire management of Mr. Delamere's cause. Mr. Crafty was between forty and forty-five years old. His figure, of middle height, was very spare. He was always dressed in a plain suit of black, with white neckerchief, and no shirt-collar; yet no one that knew the world could mistake him for a dissenting minister!—He was very calm and phlegmatic in his manner and movements—there was not a particle of passion or feeling in his composition. He was a mere thinking machine, in exquisite order. He was of marvellous few words. His face was thin and angular. His chin and temples formed an isosceles triangle; his chin being very peaked, and his forehead broad. His hair was dark, and cut almost as close as that of a foot-soldier—and this it was which helped to give his countenance that expression, both quaint and unaffected, which, once observed, was not likely to be soon forgotten. His eye was blue, and intensely cold and bright—his complexion fresh; he had no whiskers; there was a touch of sarcasm about the corners of his mouth. Everything about him bespoke a man cold, cautious, acute, matter-of-fact. "Business" was written all over his face. He had devoted himself to electioneering tactics; and he might be said to have reduced them, indeed, to a science. No one could say whether he was of Whig or Tory politics; my impression is, that he cared not a straw for either.—This, then, was the man who was to be pitted against Gammon: and these two gentlemen may perhaps be looked upon as the real players, whose backers were—Delamere and Titmouse. [Pg 3] [Pg 4] [Pg 5] [Pg 6] Mr. Crafty soon made his appearance at Yatton; and seemed, in a manner, to have dropped into Mr. Delamere's committee-room from the clouds. His presence did not appear quite unexpected; yet no one seemed to know why, whence, or at whose instance he had come. He never went near Fotheringham, nor ever mentioned the name of its noble owner, who (between ourselves) contemplated the accession of Crafty with feelings of calm exultation and confidence. Mr. Delamere's "committee" was instantly disbanded, and no new one named. In fact, there was to be none at all; and Mr. Titmouse's friends were, for a while, led to believe that the enemy were already beginning to beat a retreat. A quiet banker at Grilston, and a hard-headed land-surveyor and agent of the same place, were alone apparently taken into Mr. Crafty's confidence. Mr. Parkinson, even, was sent to the right about; and his rising pique and anger were suddenly quelled by the steadfast and significant look with which Mr. Crafty observed, in dismissing him —"It won't do." Adjoining, and opening into the large room in which, till Mr. Crafty's arrival, Mr. Delamere's committee had been sitting, was a very small one; and in it Mr. Crafty established his headquarters. He came, accompanied—though no one for a while knew it—by three of his familiars; right trusty persons, in sooth! One of them always sat on a chair, at the outside of the door leading into Mr. Crafty's room, over which he kept guard as a sentinel. The other two disposed themselves according to orders. Mr. Gammon soon felt the presence of his secret and formidable opponent, in the total change—the quiet system—that became all of a sudden apparent in the enemy's tactics: his watchful eye and quick perception detected, here and there, the faint vanishing traces of a sly and stealthy foot—the evidences of experienced skill; and one morning early he caught a glimpse of Mr. Crafty, (with whose name and fame he was familiar,) and returned home with a grave consciousness that the contest had become one exceedingly serious; that—so to speak—he must instantly spread out every stitch of canvas to overtake the enemy. In short, he made up his mind for mischief, as soon as he gave Lord De la Zouch credit for being resolved to win; and felt the necessity for acting with equal caution and decision. During that day he obtained an advance from a neighboring banker of two thousand pounds, on the security of a deposit of a portion of the title-deeds of the Yatton property. He had, indeed, occasion for great resources, personal as well as pecuniary; for instance—he had reason to believe that the enemy had already penetrated to his stronghold, the Quaint Club at Grilston, (for that was the name of the club into which the one hundred and nine new voters at Grilston had formed themselves.) Though Gammon had agreed, after much negotiation, to buy them at the very liberal sum of ten pounds a-head, he had reason, shortly after the arrival of Mr. Crafty, to believe that they had been tampered with; for, as he was late one evening moodily walking up to the Hall, he overtook, in the park, a man whose person he did not at first recognize in the darkness, but whose fearfully significant motions soon insured him recognition. It was, in fact, the man who had hitherto treated with him on behalf of the Quaint Club; one Benjamin Bran, (commonly called Ben Bran,) a squat, bow-legged baker of Grilston. He uttered not a word, nor did Mr. Gammon; but, on being recognized, simply held up to that gentleman his two outstretched hands, twice, with a significant and inquiring look. Gammon gazed at him for a moment with fury; and muttering—"to- morrow—here—same hour!" hurried on to the Hall in a state of the utmost perplexity and alarm. The dilemma in which he felt himself, kept him awake half the night! When once, indeed, you come to this sort of work, you are apt to give your opponent credit for deeper manœuvring than you can at the time fully appreciate; and the fate of the battle may soon be rendered really doubtful. Then, everything—inclusive of serious consequences, extending far beyond the mere result of the election—depends upon the skill, temper, and experience of the real and responsible directors of the election. Was Ben Bran's appearance a move on the part of Crafty? Had that gentleman bought him over and converted him into a spy—was he now playing the traitor? Or was the purse of Titmouse to be bonâ fide measured against that of Lord De la Zouch? That would be dreadful! Gammon felt (to compare him for a moment to an animal with which he had some kindred qualities) much like a cat on a very high wall, topped with broken glass, afraid to stir in any direction, and yet unable to continue where he was. While the two candidates, attended by their sounding bands, and civil and smiling friends, were making their public demonstrations and canvassing the electors, as if thereby they exercised the slightest possible influence over one single voter on either side; as I have already intimated, the battle was being fought by two calm and crafty heads, in two snug and quiet little rooms in Grilston—one at the Hare and Hounds, the other at the Woodlouse Inn; of course, I mean Mr. Crafty, and Mr. Gammon. The former within a very few hours saw that the issue of the struggle lay with the Quaint Club; and from one of his trusty emissaries—a man whom no one ever saw in communication with him, who was a mere stranger in Grilston, indifferent as to the result of the election, but delighting in its frolics; who was peculiarly apt to get sooner drunk than any one he drank with—Mr. Crafty ascertained, that though the enlightened members of the Quaint Club had certainly formed a predilection for the principles of Mr. Titmouse, yet they possessed a candor which disposed them to hear all that might be advanced in favor of the principles of his opponent. Mr. Crafty's first step was to ascertain what had been already done or attempted on behalf of Mr. Delamere, and also of Mr. Titmouse; then the exact number of the voters, whom he carefully classified. He found that there were exactly four hundred who might be expected to poll; the new electors amounting in number to one hundred and sixty, the old ones to two hundred and forty, and principally scot-and-lot voters. In due time he ascertained, that of the former class only thirty-six could be relied upon for Mr. Delamere. The tenants of the Yatton property within the borough amounted to one hundred and fifteen. They had been canvassed by Mr. Delamere and his friends with great delicacy; and twenty- three of them had voluntarily pledged themselves to vote for him, and risk all consequences; intimating that they hated and despised their new landlord as much as they had loved their old one, whose principles they understood to be those of Mr. Delamere. Then there remained a class of "accessibles," (to adopt the significant language of Mr. Crafty,) in number one hundred and twenty-five. These were persons principally resident in and near Yatton, subject undoubtedly to strong and direct influence on the part of Mr. Titmouse, but still not absolutely at his command. Of these no fewer than seventy had pledged themselves in favor of Mr. Delamere; and, in short, thus stood Mr. Crafty's calculations as to the probable force on both sides:— [Pg 7] [Pg 8] [Pg 9] [Pg 10] Delamere. Titmouse. New Voters 36 New Voters— Yatton Tenants 23 Quaint Club 109 Accessibles 70 Others 21 —— —— 130 129 Tenants 92 Accessibles 35 —— 257 Now, of the class of accessibles, twenty remained yet unpledged, and open to conviction; and, moreover, both parties had good ground for believing that they would all be convinced one way—i. e. towards either Mr. Titmouse or Mr. Delamere. Now, if the Quaint Club could be in any way detached from Mr. Titmouse, it would leave him with a majority of seventeen, only, over Mr. Delamere; and then, if by any means the twenty accessibles could be secured for Mr. Delamere, he would be placed in a majority of three over his opponent. Whichever way they went, however, it was plain that the Quaint Club held the election in their own hands, and intended to keep it so. Gammon's calculations differed but slightly from those of Crafty; and thenceforth both directed their best energies towards the same point, the Quaint Club—going on all the while with undiminished vigor and assiduity with their canvass, as the best mode of diverting attention from their important movements, and satisfying the public that the only weapons with which the fight was to be won were—bows, smiles, civil speeches, placards, squibs, banners, and bands of music. Mr. Crafty had received a splendid sum for his services from Lord De la Zouch; but on the first distinct and peremptory intimation from his Lordship, being conveyed to him through Mr. Delamere, that there was to be, bonâ fide, no bribery—and that the only funds placed at his disposal were those sufficient for the legitimate expenses of the election—he smiled rather bitterly, and sent off a secret express to Fotheringham, to ascertain for what his services had been engaged—since what was the use of going to Waterloo without powder?—The answer he received was laconic enough, and verbatim as follows:— "No intimidation; no treating; no bribery; manœuvre as skilfully as you can; and watch the enemy night and day, so that the close of the poll may not be the close of the election, nor the victor there, the sitting member." To the novel, arduous, and cheerless duty, defined by this despatch from headquarters, Mr. Crafty immediately addressed all his energies; and, after carefully reconnoitring his position, unpromising as it was, he did not despair of success. All his own voters had been gained, upon the whole, fairly. The thirty-six new ones had been undoubtedly under considerable influence, of an almost inevitable kind indeed—inasmuch as they consisted of persons principally employed in the way of business by Lord De la Zouch, and by many of his friends and neighbors, all of whom were of his Lordship's way of political thinking. Every one of the twenty-three tenants had given a spontaneous and cordial promise; and the seventy "accessibles" had been gained, after a very earnest and persevering canvass, by Mr. Delamere, in company with others who had a pretty decisive, but still a legitimate influence over them. The remaining twenty might, possibly, though not probably, be secured by equally unobjectionable means. That being the state of things with Delamere, how stood matters with Mr. Titmouse? First and foremost, the Quaint Club had been bought at ten pounds a-head, by Gammon—that was all certain. Crafty would also have bought them like a flock of sheep, had he been allowed, and would have managed matters most effectually and secretly; yet not more so than he found Mr. Gammon had succeeded in doing; at all events, as far as that gentleman himself, personally, was concerned. In fact, he had foiled Mr. Crafty, when that astute person looked about in search of legal evidence of what had been done. Still, however, he did not despair of being able to perform a series manœuvres which should secure one of the ends he most wished, in respect even of the Quaint Club. With equal good intentions, but actuated by a zeal that was not according to knowledge, some of Mr. Gammon's coadjutors had not imitated his circumspection. Quite unknown to him, one or two of them had most fearfully committed him, themselves, and Mr. Titmouse; giving Mr. Gammon such accounts of their doings as should serve only to secure his applause for their tact and success. Before Mr. Crafty, however, they stood detected as blundering novices in the art of electioneering. A small tinker and brazier at Warkleigh had received, with a wink, ten pounds from a member of Mr. Titmouse's committee! in payment of an old outstanding account— Heaven save the mark!—delivered in by him, three years before, for mending pots, kettles, and sauce-pans, in the time of—the Aubreys! The wife of a tailor at Grilston received the same sum for a fine tomcat, which was a natural curiosity, since it could wink each eye separately and successively. A third worthy and independent voter was reminded that he had lent the applicant for his vote ten pounds several years before, and which that gentleman now took shame to himself, as he paid the amount, for having so long allowed to remain unpaid. Mr. Barnabas Bloodsuck, with superior astuteness, gave three pounds a-piece to three little boys, sons of a voter, whose workshop overlooked Messrs. Bloodsucks' back offices, on condition that they would desist from their trick of standing and putting their thumbs to their noses and extending their fingers towards him, as he sat in his office, and which had really become an insupportable nuisance. Here was, therefore, a valuable consideration for the payment, and bribery was out of the question! Such are samples of the ingenious devices which had been resorted to, in order to secure some thirty or forty votes! In short, Mr. Crafty caught them tripping in at least eleven clear, unquestionable cases of bribery, each supported by unimpeachable evidence, and each sufficing to avoid the election, to disqualify Mr. Titmouse from sitting in that [Pg 11] [Pg 12] [Pg 13] [Pg 14] Parliament for Yatton, and to subject both him and his agents to a ruinous amount of penalties. Then, again, there were clear indications either of a disposition to set at defiance the stringent provisions of the law against TREATING, or of an ignorance of their existence. And as for freedom of election, scarcely ten of his tenants gave him a willing vote, or otherwise than upon compulsion, and after threats of raised rents or expulsion from farms. Tied as were Mr. Crafty's hands, the Quaint Club became a perfect eyesore to him. He found means, however, to open a secret and confidential communication with them, and resolved to hold out to them dazzling but indistinct hopes of pecuniary advantage from the regions of Fotheringham. His emissary soon got hold of the redoubtable Ben Bran, who, truth to say, had long been on the look-out for indications of the desired sort, from the other side. As Bran was late one evening walking slowly alone along the high-road leading to York, he was accosted by a genteel-looking person, who spoke in a low tone, and whom Bran now recollected to have seen, or spoken to, before. "Can you tell me where lies the gold mine?" said the stranger; "at Fotheringham, or Yatton?"—and the speaker looked round, apprehensive of being overheard. Ben pricked up his ears, and soon got into conversation with the mysterious stranger; in the course of which the latter threw out, in a very significant manner, that "a certain peer could never be supposed to send a certain near relative into the field, in order that that relative might be beaten, ... and especially for want of a few pounds; and besides, my friend, when only ...—eh?—...—the other side"—— "Why, who are you? Where do you come from?" inquired Ben, with a violent start. "Dropped out of the—moon," was the quiet and smiling answer. "Then I must say they know a precious deal," replied Ben, after a troubled pause, "up there, of what's going on down here." "To be sure, everything; everything!"... Here the stranger told Ben the precise sum which the club had received from Mr. Gammon. "Are we both—gentlemen?" inquired the stranger, earnestly. "Y—e—e—s, I hope so, sir," replied Ben Bran, hesitatingly. "And men of business—men of our word?" "Honor among thieves—ay, ay," answered Ben, in a still lower tone, and very eagerly. "Then let you and me meet alone, this time to-morrow, at Darkling Edge; and by that time, do you see, turn this over in your mind," here the stranger twice held up both his hands, with outstretched thumbs and fingers. "Sure we understand each other?" he added. Ben nodded, and they were presently out of sight of each other. The stranger immediately pulled off his green spectacles, and also a pair of gray whiskers, and put both of them into his pocket. If any one attempted to dog him, he must have been led a pretty round! 'Twas in consequence of this interview that Ben made the application to Gammon, which had so disturbed him, and which has been already described. And to return to our friend: what was he to do? On entering the library at the Hall, he opened a secret drawer in his desk, and took out a thin slip of paper which he had deposited there that morning, it having been then received by him from town, marked "Private and Confidential," and franked "Blossom and Box." 'Twas but a line, and written in a bold hand, but in evident haste; for it had in fact been penned by Lord Blossom and Box while he was sitting in the Court of Chancery. This is a copy of it:— "The election must be won. You will hear from E—— by this post. Don't address any note to me. "B. and B." With this great man, Lord Chancellor Blossom and Box, when plain Mr. Quicksilver, Mr. Gammon had had a pretty familiar acquaintance, as the reader may easily suppose; and had a natural desire to acquit himself creditably in the eyes of so distinguished and powerful a personage. Gammon had volunteered an assurance to his Lordship, shortly before leaving town, that the election was safe, and in his (Gammon's) hands; guess, then, his chagrin and fury at finding the systematic and determined opposition which had suddenly sprung up against him; and the intensity of his desire to defeat it. And the more anxious he was on this score, the more vividly he perceived the necessity of acting with a caution which should insure real ultimate success, instead of a mere noisy and temporary triumph, which should be afterwards converted into most galling, disgraceful, and public defeat. The more that Gammon reflected on the sudden but determined manner in which Lord De la Zouch had entered into the contest, the more confident he became that his Lordship had an important ultimate object to secure; and that he had at command immense means of every description, Gammon but too well knew, in common with all the world. Was, for instance, Mr. Crafty brought down, at an enormous expense, for nothing? What the deuce were the Quaint Club about? Was ever anything so monstrous heard of—ten pounds a man actually received—the bargain finally struck—and now their original demand suddenly and peremptorily doubled? Venal miscreants! Were his miscreants! Were his opponents really outbidding him, or laying a deep plan for entrapping him into an act of wholesale bribery? In short, were the Quaint Club now actuated by avarice, or by treachery? Again and again did he go over his list of promises; having marked the favorable, hostile, neutral, doubtful, from a table as accurately compiled and classified as that of Mr. Crafty. Like his wily and practised opponent, also, Gammon intrusted his principal movements to scarce a soul of those who were engaged with him; fearing, indeed, though then with no definite grounds, that Messrs. Mudflint, Woodlouse, Centipede, Bloodsuck, and Going Gone, were already too deep in the secrets of the election. According to his calculations, supposing all his promises to stand, Titmouse was, independently of the Quaint Club, and some eighteen or twenty others whom he had [Pg 15] [Pg 16] [Pg 17] set down as "to be had"—only twenty-five a-head of Delamere; thus making a difference of eight only between Gammon's reckoning, and that of Crafty. Of course, therefore, that cursed Quaint Club had it all their own way; and how to jockey them, was a problem which well-nigh split his head. He gave Lord De la Zouch credit for doing all that he—Gammon—would do, to win the election; and believed him, therefore, capable of buying over any number of the club, to turn king's evidence against their original benefactor. The Bloodsucks assured him that the club were all good men and true—stanch—game to the backbone; but Gammon had obtained some information as to the political sentiments of several of the members, before they had acquired the new franchise, and become banded into so sudden and formidable a confederacy, which led him to speculate rather apprehensively on the effects which might follow any bold and skilful scheme resorted to by his enemies. Now, as far as the club were concerned, its members were all quiet respectable men, who made the affair a dry matter of business. They justly looked on each of the candidates as equally worthy of the honor they coveted of representing the borough, and considered that things would always go on right, at headquarters—i. e. that the country would be properly governed—without the least reference to the quality or complexion of the House of Commons. They saw the desperate and unceasing fight among their betters for the loaves and fishes; and imitated their example, with reference to the crumbs and fragments. First they divided themselves, as near as their number would admit of, into tens, giving one to the odd nine, equally with each body of ten, and thus produced a body of eleven representatives. These eleven, again, in the presence of the whole club, chose five of their number for the purpose of conducting the negotiations between the club and the two candidates; and these five again selected one of themselves—Ben Bran—to be the direct medium of communication: the actual state of the market never went beyond the first body of eleven; and in the exercise of an exquisite dexterity, Mr. Crafty had contrived to inspire these eleven, through their deputy and mouthpiece, Bran, with a determination to exact fifteen pounds per head more from Titmouse, before recording their votes in his favor: and this untoward state of things was duly intimated to Gammon, by Ben Bran, by silently outstretching both hands, and then one hand. That would make a total of two thousand seven hundred and twenty-five pounds disbursed among that accursed Quaint Club alone!—thought Gammon with a shudder: and suppose they should even then turn tail upon him, seduced by the splendid temptations of Lord De la Zouch? Just to conceive the possibility, for one moment, of Mr. Benjamin Bran having been bought over to betray all his companions, and Gammon and his party also, into the hands of Lord De la Zouch? Saith the immortal author of Hudibras— "Ah me, what perils do environ The man that meddles with cold iron!" But Gammon was disposed to make an exclamation in a similar tone, though of a different sort— What pen his troubles shall describe, Who voters once begins to bribe! "Oh!" thought Mr. Gammon, a thousand times, "that cursed Quaint Club!—That cursed Crafty!" The very first person on whom Delamere waited, in order to solicit his support, was little Dr. Tatham, who, I need hardly say, gave it promptly and cordially; but he added, shaking his head, that he knew he was giving huge offence to the people at the Hall, who had already been several times very urgent indeed with him. "Well, rather, sir, than sow dissension between you and Mr. Titmouse, your neighbor," said Delamere, spiritedly, "I at once release you from your promise." "Ah! indeed?" cried Dr. Tatham, briskly—"Do you? Can you? Ought you to do so? I look upon the exercise of my franchise to be a sacred duty, and I shall discharge it as readily and as conscientiously as any other duty, come what may." Delamere looked at him, and thought how often he had heard Miss Aubrey talk of him with affectionate enthusiasm, and he believed the little doctor to be every way worthy of it. "For myself," continued Dr. Tatham, "I care little; but I have reason greatly to apprehend the effects of his displeasure upon those who are disposed—as such I know there are—to go counter to his wishes. He'll make them rue the day." "Ay?—Let him!" exclaimed Mr. Delamere, with an eye of bright defiance; but it kindled only a faint momentary spark of consolation in the breast of Dr. Tatham. The rivals, Mr. Delamere and Mr. Titmouse, encountered one another, as it were in full state, on the second day of the former's canvass. 'T was in the street. Mr. Delamere was attended by Mr. Parkinson, Sir Percival Pickering, Mr. St. Aubyn, Mr. Aylward Elvet, Mr. Gold, and one or two others. Mr. Delamere looked certainly very handsome. About his person, countenance, and carriage, there was an air of manly frankness, refinement, and simplicity; and a glance at his aristocratic cast of features, told you that a certain latent tendency to hauteur was kept in check by sincere good- nature. He was tall and well-proportioned, and his motions had a natural ease and grace; and as for his dress, it combined a rigid simplicity with an undoubted fashion and elegance. Though the air was very cold and frosty, he wore only a plain dark-colored surtout, buttoned. "Delamere! Delamere!" whispered, with a smile, Mr. St. Aubyn, (one of the former members for the borough,) on first catching sight of the enemy approaching them on the same side of the street, at about twenty yards' distance—"Here comes your opponent; he's a little beauty, eh?" Mr. Titmouse walked first, dressed in a fine drab-colored great-coat, with velvet collar of the same hue, and sable near a foot deep at the wrists. It was buttoned tightly round a pinched-in waist, and a white cambric handkerchief peeped [Pg 18] [Pg 19] [Pg 20] out of a pocket in the breast. He had a red and green plaid waistcoat, and a full satin stock, glistening with little pins and chains. His trousers were sky-blue, and very tight, and covered almost the whole of his boot; so that it was a wonder to the vulgar how he ever got into, or out of them. The little that was seen of his boots shone wonderfully; and he wore spurs at his heels. His span-new glossy hat was perched aslant on his bushy hair; he wore lemon-colored kid gloves, and carried a delicate little ebony cane. Following this pretty figure were—the sallow insolent-looking "Reverend" Smirk Mudflint, (such was the title he assumed,) Mr. Centipede, Mr. Grogram, Mr. Bloodsuck, junior, (who had approached as near, in point of personal appearance, to his illustrious client, as he knew how,) and—Mr. Gammon. As the hostile companies neared each other, that of Delamere observed some one hastily whisper to Titmouse, who instantly stuck his chased gold eyeglass into his eye, and stared very vulgarly at Mr. Delamere—who, on passing him, with the courtesy which he conceived due to an opponent, took off his hat, and bowed with politeness and grace, his example being followed by all his party. Titmouse, however, took not the least notice of the compliment; but, without removing his glass from his eye, throwing an odious sneer into his face, stared steadily at Mr. Delamere, and so passed on. Mr. Barnabas Bloodsuck ably seconded him. Mudflint, with a bitter smirk, touched his hat slightly; Centipede affected to look another way; Grogram blushed, and bowed as to his very best customer. Mr. Gammon came last; and filled with disgust at the reception given to Mr. Delamere, colored all over, as he took off his hat, and with an expression of very anxious and pointed politeness, endeavored to satisfy Mr. Delamere and his party, that there was at all events one in the train of Titmouse, who had some pretensions to the character of a gentleman. "Who can that last man be? He's a gentleman," inquired Sir Percival, with an air of much surprise. "Mr. Gammon—a man who is lord-paramount at the Hall," replied one. "Gammon!—Is that Mr.——" echoed Delamere, with much interest; and as he turned round to look at Gammon, observed that he was doing the same; on which both hastily turned away. As the important day approached, each party professed complete confidence as to the result. The Yorkshire Stingo declared that it had authority for stating that Mr. Titmouse's majority would be at least three to one over Mr. Delamere —and that, too, in glorious defiance of the most lavish bribery and corruption, and the most tyrannical intimidation, which had ever disgraced the annals of electioneering. In fact, it was presumptuous in Mr. Delamere to attempt to foist himself upon a borough with which he had no connection; and was done with a wanton and malicious determination to occasion expense and annoyance to Mr. Titmouse. The York True Blue, on the contrary, assured its readers that Mr. Delamere's prospects were of the brightest description—and though by perhaps a small majority, yet he was sure of his election. He had been everywhere hailed with the greatest enthusiasm. Many of even Mr. Titmouse's tenantry had nobly volunteered their support to Mr. Delamere; and at Grilston, so long regarded as the very focus and hotbed of democracy, his success had surpassed the most sanguine expectations of his friends, and so forth. Then there was a sly and mischievous caution to the electors, not to be led away by the ingenious and eloquent sophistries which might be expected from Mr. Titmouse at the hustings, on the day of nomination!! All this might be very well for the papers, and probably produce its impression upon those who, at a distance, are in the habit of relying upon them. But as for the actors—the parties concerned—Mr. Delamere was repeatedly assured by Mr. Crafty that a decent minority was the very utmost that could be expected; while Titmouse and his friends, on the other hand, were in a very painful state of uncertainty as to the issue: only Gammon, however, and perhaps one or two others, being acquainted with the true source of uneasiness and difficulty—viz. the abominable rapacity of the Quaint Club. At length dawned the day which was to determine how far Yatton was worthy or unworthy of the boon which had been conferred upon it by the glorious Bill for giving Everybody Everything—which was to witness the maiden contest between the two hopeful scions of the noble and ancient houses of Dreddlington and De la Zouch—on which it was to be ascertained whether Yatton was to be bought and sold, like any other article of merchandise, by a bitter old boroughmonger; or to signalize itself by its spirit and independence, in returning one who avowed, and would support, the noble principles which secured the passing of the Great Bill which has been so often alluded to. As for my hero, Mr. Titmouse, it gives me pain to have to record—making even all due allowance for the excitement occasioned by so exhilarating an occasion—that during the canvass, there were scarcely two hours in the day during which he could be considered as sober. He generally left his bed about eleven o'clock in the morning—about two o'clock, reached his committee-room—there he called for a bottle or two of soda-water, with brandy; and, thus supported, set out on his canvass, and never refused an invitation to take a glass of ale, at the houses which he visited. About the real business of the election—about his own true position and prospects—Gammon never once deigned to consult or instruct him; but had confined himself to the preparation of a very short and simple speech, to be delivered by Titmouse, if possible, from the hustings, and which he had made that gentleman copy out many times, and promise that he would endeavor to learn off by heart. He might as well, however, have attempted to walk up the outside of the Monument! Merrily rang the bells of Grilston church on the election morning, by order of the vicar, the Reverend Gideon Fleshpot, who was a stanch Titmousite, and had long cast a sort of sheep's eye upon the living of Yatton; for he was nearly twenty years younger than its present possessor, Dr. Tatham. What a bustle was there in the town by eight o'clock! All business was to be suspended for the day. Great numbers from the places adjacent began to pour into the town about that hour. It was soon seen who was the popular candidate—he whose colors were yellow; for wherever you went, yellow cockades, rosettes, and button-ties for the men, and yellow ribbons for the girls, yellow flags and yellow placards with "Titmouse for Yatton!" met the eye. Mr. Delamere's colors were a deep blue, but were worn, I am sorry to say, by only one in four or five of those who were stirring about; and who, moreover, however respectable, and in appearance superior to the adherents of Titmouse, yet wore no such look of confidence and cheerfulness as they. From the bow-window of the Hare and Hounds, Mr. Delamere's headquarters, streamed an ample and very rich blue silk [Pg 21] [Pg 22] [Pg 23] [Pg 24] banner, on which was worked, in white silk, the figure of a Bible, Crown, and Sceptre, and the words, "Delamere for Yatton." This would have probably secured some little favorable notice from his sullen and bitter opponents, had they known that it had been the workmanship of some fifteen of as sweet beautiful girls as could have been picked out of the whole county of York; and, by the way, 'tis a singular and melancholy sign of the times, that beauty, innocence, and accomplishment, are in England to be found uniformly arrayed on the side of tyranny and corruption, against the people. Then Mr. Delamere's band was equal to three such as that of his opponent—playing with equal precision and power: and, what was more, they played very bold, enlivening tunes as they paraded the town. There was one feature of the early proceedings of the day, that was rather singular and significant: viz. that though all the members of the formidable Quaint Club were stirring about, not one of them wore the colors of either party, though (between ourselves) each man had the colors of both parties in his pocket. They appeared studiously to abstain from a display of party feeling— though several of them could not resist a leering wink of the eye when the yellow band went clashing past them. They also had a band, which went about the town, preceded by their own standard—a very broad sheet of sky-blue, stretched between two poles, supported by two men; and the droll device it bore, was—an enormous man's face, with an intense squint, and two hands, with the thumbs of each resting on the nose, and the fingers spread out towards the beholder. It produced—as it seemed designed to produce—shouts of laughter wherever it made its appearance. Every member of the Quaint Club, however, wore a grave face; as if they were the only persons who appreciated the nature of the exalted functions which they were entitled, and about to exercise. No one could tell which way they intended to vote, though all expected that they were to come in at the last, and place the yellows in a triumphant majority of a hundred, at least. Though it had been a matter of notoriety that they were Mr. Titmouse's men, before Mr. Delamere appeared in the field; yet, since then, they had suddenly exhibited a politic and persevering silence and reserve, even among their personal friends and acquaintance. The yellow band performed one feat which was greatly applauded by the yellow crowd which attended them, and evidenced the delicacy by which those who guided their movements were actuated: viz. they frequently passed and repassed Mr. Delamere's committee-room, playing that truly inspiriting air, "The Rogue's March." Then the yellows dressed up a poor old donkey in Mr. Delamere's colors, which were plentifully attached to the animal's ears and tail, and paraded him, with great cheering, before the doors of the Hare and Hounds, and Mr. Delamere's principal friends and adherents. Nay—one of the more vivacious of the crowd threw a stone at a little corner window of the blue committee-room, through which it went smashing on its way, till it hit and overturned the inkstand of calm Mr. Crafty, who sat alone in the little room, busy at work with pen, ink, and paper. He looked up for a moment, called for a fresh inkstand, and presently resumed his pen, as if nothing had happened. The hustings were erected upon a very convenient and commodious green, at the southern extremity of the town...