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Ebook has 599 lines and 126463 words, and 12 pages

Illustrator: George Cruikshank

THE

GREATEST PLAGUE OF LIFE:

The Adventures of a Lady

IN SEARCH OF A GOOD SERVANT.

ONE WHO HAS BEEN "ALMOST WORRIED TO DEATH."

EDITED BY THE BROTHERS MAYHEW.

Illustrated by George Cruikshank.

LONDON: DAVID BOGUE, 86, FLEET STREET.

THE

GREATEST PLAGUE OF LIFE:

The Adventures

A LADY IN SEARCH OF A GOOD SERVANT.

HOW I BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH THE SUBJECT OF MY LITTLE BOOK.

"Is there a heart that never loved, Or felt soft Woman's sigh? Is there a man can mark unmoved Dear Woman's tearful eye? Oh, bear him to some distant shore, Or solitary cell: Where none but savage monsters roar, Where love ne'er deigned to dwell." POPULAR BALLAD.

It has been as wisely as beautifully remarked by the Rev. Robert Montgomery, in his delightfully truthful and sweet, pretty Poem, entitled "Woman an Angel!" that the lovely daughters of Eve were born to suffer; for not only have they their own severe afflictions to put up with, but they are expected also to become willing partners in those of the sons of Adam by whom they have been led to the altar, and whose hands and fortunes they have consented to accept and share. Without lovely Woman to soothe, restrain, and look after them, I should like to know what would be the fate of those impatient, obstinate, selfish, and poor helpless creatures--Men? Would they not unpick every social tie? and go about like the brutes of the fields, with scarcely a thing fit to put on, and their stockings all full of holes--a prey to their all-devouring appetites--the slaves of their ungovernable passions, and be robbed right and left by their servants? And why, I ask, would this be the case?--why, because every Woman, with her proper feelings about her, knows as well as I do that it certainly would.

The immortal Swan of Avon has somewhere charmingly said--

"Give me that man who is not passion's slave, And I will wear him in my heart of hearts;"

and if such a being was ever created, I certainly must say that I should not hesitate to follow so worthy an example as that of the immortal Swan,--that is, indeed, were I not a married woman.

Yes, lovely daughters of Eve! ours is a horrid, bitter cup. To us the Earth is truly a Vale of Tears, without e'en one pretty flower growing up among the shoals and quicksands that beset our briery path, to gladden us on our way. Indeed, the trials of us poor, dear, confiding Women form a sad--sad history; and, Goodness knows! that the humble individual who is now addressing the courteous Reader has had her share of worldly troubles to bear up against. What I have suffered in my time few would believe, and none but myself can tell. In fact, if I had not had a very fine constitution of my own, my frame must have given way under it,--for I am sure the heart-rending ordeals that I have been condemned to go through with--in a word, the overwhelming--but more of this hereafter.

It was a cold Autumnal midnight, and the wind was blowing frightfully, and the rain was beating against the windows, and not a sound was to be heard in the streets, unless I mention the noise of some two or three cabs tearing past the house, and bearing homewards their gay and youthful votaries of fashion from some festive ball or joyous theatre. Indeed, it was just such a night as makes the sympathizing heart of Woman, when seated quietly by her own comfortable fire-side, bleed with pity to think of the poor houseless wanderer, who is obliged to pace the streets without e'en so much as a shoe to his feet, or anything to live upon. I was sitting up-stairs, in my snug little bed-room, my thoughts fixed only on Edward's return; for having a heavy cause which stood for trial in the Exchequer on the morrow, he was, I knew, detained at his Chambers, in L--nc--n's I--n, on important business.

I always made it a rule, even when I had an establishment of my own, of sitting up for Edward myself, in preference to letting the servants do so. For, in the first place, we never dine until six o'clock, although I am naturally a small eater; and, secondly, it is unreasonable to expect that, if the servants are kept up over-night, they can be down stairs in the morning, in time to get through with their next day's work; and, thirdly, I have always found Edward come home much earlier when he knew that I was staying up for him, instead of the maid.

I was then, as I said before, sitting up for my husband; and, to pass the time, I was unpicking my green silk pelisse, with the view of making it into a couple of best frocks for my sweet little pets, Kate and Annie ; and as I had worn it, I should think, not more than one or two winters altogether, and it was getting to look quite old-fashioned, I thought it would be better to make it up for my darling girls, and try and prevail upon dear Edward to buy me a new one next time we went out for a walk together.

So, as I said before, I was sitting up for my husband, and whilst I was busy at work, I could not help contrasting my then new situation in life with the domestic comfort I once thought I should have enjoyed. "Here am I," "closely connected with one of the oldest families in the kingdom,--the wife of a highly respectable professional man,--the mother of five strong and healthy children,--and three of whom are boys, and the other two girls,--without an establishment that I can call my own,--positively driven from my home,--obliged to sell my elegant furniture at a sacrifice of five hundred and eighty pounds and odd,--glad to take refuge in the venal hospitality of a Boarding House!! in G--ldf--rd St--t, R--ss--ll Sq--re, near the F--ndl--ng H--sp--t--l, and at the mercy of a set of people that one really knows little or nothing about." And why is this?--alas! why? Why, because we were obliged to leave our own house, and all through a pack of ungrateful, good-for-nothing things called servants, who really do not know when they are well off.

And now that they have driven me and my husband to seek an asylum in a respectable boarding-house, I suppose I shall be allowed to taste a little peace, and quiet, and comfort, for the first time since my marriage. For, indeed, such has been, as I said before, my wear and tear, both of mind and body, that, though Edward and I have been married scarcely fourteen summers, I'm sure that if my courteous readers could only see me, they would take me to be at least ten years older than I really am--which I am not.

As I was saying, then, these thoughts floated through my mind the second night after we had entered our new abode, and I inwardly wished to myself that I had my time to come over again--when suddenly!--all of an instant!--a brilliant idea rushed across my brain. It was a noble idea!--one that would have done honour to any of our great philanthropists, or even Mrs. Ellis herself. And, yet, was I capable of doing justice to the idea? Alas! I feared not. Then, would it not be rashness to attempt it? Alas! I feared it would. Still, it had so benevolent an object, that I should be ten times worse than a blind heathen to shrink from it. But, even if I decided upon entertaining the idea, how was I, weak, timid, and bashful as I was, ever to be able to carry it out? It seemed to be madness to think any more of the idea. It might all come to Edward's ears, and he would chide his dear, foolish Caroline for undertaking it. Yet I might be the proud means of saving hundreds of my fellow-creatures, who have unfortunately got weak constitutions of their own, from suffering as I have.

And when I thought of this, I no longer hesitated, but determined to publish to the world all my long experience with servants of all kinds, and countries, and colours, so that I might, as it were, become the pilot of young wives, to steer their fragile little barks through the rocks and precipices of domestic life, and prevent their happiness being wrecked as mine has been--I may say, at my own fire-side--and their household gods turned neck and crop into the streets, to wander to and fro, without so much as a place to put their heads in.

But how was all this to be done? Who was to help me in bringing this charitable work before the world? At length I remembered having bought some books of a publisher in Fleet-street, who had been, on two or three occasions, very polite to me. To him I would go in the morning, and get him to assist me in my noble undertaking. I did so. But the courteous reader shall learn what transpired in another chapter.

HOW I BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH THE PUBLISHER OF MY LITTLE BOOK.

"We met: 'twas in a crowd, And I thought he would shun me! He came: I could not breathe, For his eyes were upon me. He spoke: his words were cold; And his smile was unalter'd." "WE MET."--HAYNES BAYLY.

When I reached the door of the shop, I really had scarcely courage to turn the handle; I had often heard of the nervousness of Genius, but never before had experienced the feeling myself. I'm sure, I felt as if my heart were in my mouth; and anybody that had wished, might have knocked me down with a feather. So, to bring myself round, I looked at some of the sweet, pretty engravings in the front of the shop; and having just passed my handkerchief over my face, and arranged my bonnet and hair as well as I could, in the plate-glass windows, I at last summoned up strength to enter.

"In the next room, if you please, ma'm," he replied, in a tone of becoming diffidence.

"Thank you," I replied, with a lady-like curtsey, and immediately stepped into the room alluded to.

"In the next room, if you please, ma'm," he replied, with charming respect.

"You are extremely good," I answered, curtseying, as before; and passing on into the adjoining apartment, which was a counting-house. There I observed a young man, with a Grecian nose, and grey Irish eyes, and a buff kerseymere waistcoat, seated at a desk, very busy.

I advanced towards him, and found him to be a man, looking very young considering all he must have upon his shoulders. As he walked across the room to meet me, he appeared to run about upon five feet and three-quarters, being neither tall nor short. He has got my eldest girl's hair, and my second boy's eyes, . He was dressed in an invisible green surtout, with a black velvet collar, and seems to be naturally of a retiring disposition, like myself: and, as far as I can judge, from appearances, I should think he has a very fine constitution of his own. I do not know whether he is a family man, but I must say, that he certainly does appear to be a gentleman of very good breeding. And, though his diffidence makes his manner, at first, appear grave, still he seems to be naturally of a cheerful disposition; for, do what he could, it was impossible for him to prevent his inward man from peeping out of his expressive eyes.

"Yes, ma'm," he answered, with a bland smile; "will you take a chair, by the fire?"

There was another pause, which made me feel far from at-home, and wholly drove out of my mind the charming little address that, on my road, I had arranged, as an elegant introduction to the business.

"Perhaps," he delicately interrupted me, "you are not acquainted, ma'm, with Dean Swift's celebrated work on the subject."

"Yes, ma'm," he answered, hesitatingly; "but I'm sorry to say, domestic troubles don't go off at all in the trade; the public seem to have lost all taste for them. Now, if you could work up any horrible fact, or make a heroine out of some lady poisoner, ma'm, I think that might do. Sir Edward's book has been quite a hit, and there is a great demand with us for lady poisoners just now."

"Yes, ma'm," he answered: "but I'm afraid the book, although I've no doubt it would be exceedingly interesting, wouldn't exactly suit me. I really should not like to risk it."

HOW I BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH THE ARTIST TO MY LITTLE BOOK.

"He shook! 'twas but an instant, For speedily the pride Ran crimson to his heart, Till all chances he defied: It threw boldness on his forehead; Gave firmness to his breath; And he stood like some grim Warrior, New risen up from death." BARRY CORNWALL,

What heartfelt joy it imparts to find a gentleman willing to lend a helping hand to the ideas of the good, and assist a virtuous female in distress. And how true and poetic it was of the Greeks to make Charity a woman; for does not charity begin at home, and does not the proud empire of lovely woman begin there also. And would not every respectable female be overflowing with goodness were it not for the harsh sway of the fell tyrant Man, who, with a heavy hand, alas! too often skims their milk of human kindness, and takes all the cream off the best feelings of their nature.

Although I looked everywhere, I could not find a speck of dust or dirt anywhere, not even in the corners. "Ah!" "how different is this from the common run of artists." When I went to have my portrait painted by Mr. Gl--k, in N--wm--n St--t, I am sure you might have taken the dust up in spoonfuls, which convinced me that he was no Genius; for I must and will say, that the man who does not give his mind to the smaller affairs of life, will never succeed with the greater ones; for is it not proverbial that a master-hand is to be seen in everything? And to prove to the courteous Reader how correct my opinion was, Mr. Gl--k turned out to be but an indifferent artist, after all, for he made me look like a perfect fright.

After waiting a few minutes in a delightful ante-room, I was shown into the Study, and for the first time stood face to face with that highly-talented artist and charming man, George Cruikshank, Esquire, whom, as a painter, I don't think I go too far in calling the Constable of the day.

Were I in this instance to adopt Dr. Watts's beautiful standard by which to judge of the stature of intellectual men--that is, "that the mind is the measure of the man," I should say that Mr. George Cruikshank is a perfect Giant, a mental Colossus of Rhodes, or Daniel Lambert; but viewing him in the flesh, he appeared to be of an ordinary height. Directly I saw him, he presented to me the appearance of a fine picture set in a muscular frame, his body being neither stout nor thin.

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