THE opportunity I wanted presented
itself in a curious way, and
led, unexpectedly enough, to
some rather important consequences.
I have already stated, among
the other branches of human attainment
which I acquired at the public
school, that I learned to draw
caricatures of the masters who
were so obliging as to educate
me. I had a natural faculty for
this useful department of art.
I improved it greatly by practice
in secret after I left school,
and I ended by making it a source
of profit and pocket money to
me when I entered the medical
profession. What was I to do?
I could not expect for years
to make a halfpenny, as a physician.
My genteel walk in life led me
away from all immediate sources
of emolument, and my father could
only afford to give me an allowance
which was too preposterously
small to be mentioned. I had
helped myself surreptitiously
to pocket-money at school, by
selling my caricatures, and I
was obliged to repeat the process
at home!
At the time
of which I write, the Art of
Caricature was just
approaching the close of its
colored and most extravagant
stage of development. The subtlety
and truth to Nature required
for the pursuit of it now, had
hardly begun to be thought of
then. Sheer farce and coarse
burlesque, with plenty of color
for the money, still made up
the sum of what the public of
those days wanted. I was first
assured of my capacity for the
production of these requisites,
by a medical friend of the ripe
critical age of nineteen. He
knew a print-publisher, and enthusiastically
showed him a portfolio full of
my sketches, taking care at my
request not to mention my name.
Rather to my surprise (for I
was too conceited to be greatly
amazed by the circumstance),
the publisher picked out a few
of the best of my wares, and
boldly bought them of me-- of
course, at his own price. From
that time I became, in an anonymous
way, one of the young buccaneers
of British Caricature; cruising
about here, there and everywhere,
at all my intervals of spare
time, for any prize in the shape
of a subject which it was possible
to pick up. Little did my highly-connected
mother think that, among the
colored prints in the shop-window,
which disrespectfully illustrated
the public and private proceedings
of distinguished individuals,
certain specimens bearing the
classic signature of "Thersites
Junior," were produced from designs
furnished by her studious and
medical son. Little did my respectable
father imagine when, with great
difficulty and vexation, he succeeded
in getting me now and then smuggled,
along with himself, inside the
pale of fashionable society--that
he was helping me to study likenesses
which were destined under my
reckless treatment to make the
public laugh at some of his most
august patrons, and to fill the
pockets of his son with professional
fees, never once dreamed of in
his philosophy.
For more than a year I managed,
unsuspected, to keep the Privy
Purse fairly supplied by the
exercise of my caricaturing abilities.
But the day of detection was
to come.
Whether my
medical friend's admiration
of my satirical sketches
led him into talking about them
in public with too little reserve;
or whether the servants at home
found private means of watching
me in my moments of Art-study,
I know not: but that some one
betrayed me, and that the discovery
of my illicit manufacture of
caricatures was actually communicated
even to the grandmotherly head
and fount of the family honor,
is a most certain and lamentable
matter of fact. One morning my
father received a letter from
Lady Malkinshaw herself, informing
him, in a handwriting crooked
with poignant grief, and blotted
at every third word by the violence
of virtuous indignation, that "Thersites
Junior" was his own son, and
that, in one of the last of the "ribald's" caricatures
her own venerable features were
unmistakably represented as belonging
to the body of a large owl!
Of course, I laid my hand on
my heart and indignantly denied
everything. Useless. My original
model for the owl had got proofs
of my guilt that were not to
be resisted.
The doctor, ordinarily the
most mellifluous and self-possessed
of men, flew into a violent,
roaring, cursing passion, on
this occasion--declared that
I was imperiling the honor and
standing of the family--insisted
on my never drawing another caricature,
either for public or private
purposes, as long as I lived;
and ordered me to go forthwith
and ask pardon of Lady Malkinshaw
in the humblest terms that it
was possible to select. I answered
dutifully that I was quite ready
to obey, on the condition that
he should reimburse me by a trebled
allowance for what I should lose
by giving up the Art of Caricature,
or that Lady Malkinshaw should
confer on me the appointment
of physician-in-waiting on her,
with a handsome salary attached.
These extremely moderate stipulations
so increased my father's anger,
that he asserted, with an unmentionably
vulgar oath, his resolution to
turn me out of doors if I did
not do as he bid me, without
daring to hint at any conditions
whatsoever. I bowed, and said
that I would save him the exertion
of turning me out of doors, by
going of my own accord. He shook
his fist at me; after which it
obviously became my duty, as
a member of a gentlemanly and
peaceful profession, to leave
the room. The same evening I
left the house, and I have never
once given the clumsy and expensive
footman the trouble of answering
the door to me since that time.
I have reason to believe that
my exodus from home was, on the
whole, favorably viewed by my
mother, as tending to remove
any possibility of my bad character
and conduct interfering with
my sister's advancement in life.
By dint of angling with great
dexterity and patience, under
the direction of both her parents,
my handsome sister Annabella
had succeeded in catching an
eligible husband, in the shape
of a wizen, miserly, mahogany-colored
man, turned fifty, who had made
a fortune in the West Indies.
His name was Batterbury; he had
been dried up under a tropical
sun, so as to look as if he would
keep for ages; he had two subjects
of conversation, the yellow-fever
and the advantage of walking
exercise: and he was barbarian
enough to take a violent dislike
to me. He had proved a very delicate
fish to hook; and, even when
Annabella had caught him, my
father and mother had great difficulty
in landing him--principally,
they were good enough to say,
in consequence of my presence
on the scene. Hence the decided
advantage of my removal from
home. It is a very pleasant reflection
to me, now, to remember how disinterestedly
I studied the good of my family
in those early days.
Abandoned entirely to my own
resources, I naturally returned
to the business of caricaturing
with renewed ardor.
About this time Thersites Junior
really began to make something
like a reputation, and to walk
abroad habitually with a bank-note
comfortably lodged among the
other papers in his pocketbook.
For a year I lived a gay and
glorious life in some of the
freest society in London; at
the end of that time, my tradesmen,
without any provocation on my
part, sent in their bills. I
found myself in the very absurd
position of having no money to
pay them, and told them all so
with the frankness which is one
of the best sides of my character.
They received my advances toward
a better understanding with brutal
incivility, and treated me soon
afterward with a want of confidence
which I may forgive, but can
never forget. One day, a dirty
stranger touched me on the shoulder,
and showed me a dirty slip of
paper which I at first presumed
to be his card. Before I could
tell him what a vulgar document
it looked like, two more dirty
strangers put me into a hackney
coach. Before I could prove to
them that this proceeding was
a gross infringement on the liberties
of the British subject, I found
myself lodged within the walls
of a prison.
Well! and what of that? Who
am I that I should object to
being in prison, when so many
of the royal personages and illustrious
characters of history have been
there before me? Can I not carry
on my vocation in greater comfort
here than I could in my father's
house? Have I any anxieties outside
these walls? No: for my beloved
sister is married--the family
net has landed Mr. Batterbury
at last. No: for I read in the
paper the other day, that Doctor
Softly (doubtless through the
interest of Lady Malkinshaw)
has been appointed the King's-Barber-Surgeon's-Deputy-Consulting
Physician. My relatives are comfortable
in their sphere--let me proceed
forthwith to make myself comfortable
in mine. Pen, ink, and paper,
if you please, Mr. Jailer: I
wish to write to my esteemed
publisher.
"DEAR SIR--Please
advertise a series of twelve
Racy Prints,
from my fertile pencil, entitled,
'Scenes of Modern Prison Life,'
by Thersites Junior. The two
first designs will be ready by
the end of the week, to be paid
for on delivery, according to
the terms settled between us
for my previous publications
of the same size.
"With great
regard and esteem, faithfully
yours,
FRANK SOFTLY."
Having thus provided for my
support in prison, I was enabled
to introduce myself to my fellow-debtors,
and to study character for the
new series of prints, on the
very first day of my incarceration,
with my mind quite at ease.
If the reader
desires to make acquaintance
with the associates
of my captivity, I must refer
him to "Scenes of Modern Prison
Life," by Thersites Junior, now
doubtless extremely scarce, but
producible to the demands of
patience and perseverance, I
should imagine, if anybody will
be so obliging as to pass a week
or so over the catalogue of the
British Museum. My fertile pencil
has delineated the characters
I met with, at that period of
my life, with a force and distinctness
which my pen cannot hope to rival--has
portrayed them all more or less
prominently, with the one solitary
exception of a prisoner called
Gentleman Jones. The reasons
why I excluded him from my portrait-gallery
are so honorab le to both of
us, that I must ask permission
briefly to record them.
My fellow-captives soon discovered
that I was studying their personal
peculiarities for my own advantage
and for the public amusement.
Some thought the thing a good
joke; some objected to it, and
quarreled with me. Liberality
in the matter of liquor and small
loans, reconciled a large proportion
of the objectors to their fate;
the sulky minority I treated
with contempt, and scourged avengingly
with the smart lash of caricature.
I was at that time probably the
most impudent man of my age in
all England, and the common flock
of jail-birds quailed before
the magnificence of my assurance.
One prisoner only set me and
my pencil successfully at defiance.
That prisoner was Gentleman Jones.
He had received his name from
the suavity of his countenance,
the inveterate politeness of
his language, and the unassailable
composure of his manner. He was
in the prime of life, but very
bald--had been in the army and
the coal trade--wore very stiff
collars and prodigiously long
wristbands--seldom laughed, but
talked with remarkable glibness,
and was never known to lose his
temper under the most aggravating
circumstances of prison existence.
He abstained from interfering
with me and my studies, until
it was reported in our society,
that in the sixth print of my
series, Gentleman Jones, highly
caricatured, was to form one
of the principal figures. He
then appealed to me personally
and publicly, on the racket-ground,
in the following terms:
"Sir," said he, with his usual
politeness and his unwavering
smile, "you will greatly oblige
me by not caricaturing my personal
peculiarities. I am so unfortunate
as not to possess a sense of
humor; and if you did my likeness,
I am afraid I should not see
the joke of it."
"Sir," I returned, with my
customary impudence, "it is not
of the slightest importance whether you see
the joke of it or not. The public
will--and that is enough for
me."
With that civil speech, I turned
on my heel; and the prisoners
near all burst out laughing.
Gentleman Jones, not in the least
altered or ruffled, smoothed
down his wristbands, smiled,
and walked away.
The same evening I was in my
room alone, designing the new
print, when there came a knock
at the door, and Gentleman Jones
walked in. I got up, and asked
what the devil he wanted. He
smiled, and turned up his long
wristbands.
"Only to give you a lesson
in politeness," said Gentleman
Jones.
"What do you
mean, sir? How dare you--?"
The answer was a smart slap
on the face. I instantly struck
out in a state of fury--was stopped
with great neatness--and received
in return a blow on the head,
which sent me down on the carpet
half stunned, and too giddy to
know the difference between the
floor and the ceiling.
"Sir," said Gentleman Jones,
smoothing down his wristbands
again, and addressing me blandly
as I lay on the floor, "I have
the honor to inform you that
you have now received your first
lesson in politeness. Always
be civil to those who are civil
to you. The little matter of
the caricature we will settle
on a future occasion. I wish
you good-evening."
The noise of my fall had been
heard by the other occupants
of rooms on my landing. Most
fortunately for my dignity, they
did not come in to see what was
the matter until I had been able
to get into my chair again. When
they entered, I felt that the
impression of the slap was red
on my face still, but the mark
of the blow was hidden by my
hair. Under these fortunate circumstances,
I was able to keep up my character
among my friends, when they inquired
about the scuffle, by informing
them that Gentleman Jones had
audaciously slapped my face,
and that I had been obliged to
retaliate by knocking him down.
My word in the prison was as
good as his; and if my version
of the story got fairly the start
of his, I had the better chance
of the two of being believed.
I was rather anxious, the next
day, to know what course my polite
and pugilistic instructor would
take. To my utter amazement,
he bowed to me as civilly as
usual when we met in the yard;
he never denied my version of
the story; and when my friends
laughed at him as a thrashed
man, he took not the slightest
notice of their agreeable merriment.
Antiquity, I think, furnishes
us with few more remarkable characters
than Gentleman Jones.
That evening I thought it desirable
to invite a friend to pass the
time with me. As long as my liquor
lasted he stopped; when it was
gone, he went away. I was just
locking the door after him, when
it was pushed open gently, but
very firmly, and Gentleman Jones
walked in.
My pride, which
had not allowed me to apply
for protection to
the prison authorities, would
not allow me now to call for
help. I tried to get to the fireplace
and arm myself with the poker,
but Gentleman Jones was too quick
for me. "I have come, sir, to
give you a lesson in morality
to-night," he said; and up went
his right hand.
I stopped the preliminary slap,
but before I could hit him, his
terrible left fist reached my
head again; and down I fell once
more--upon the hearth-rug this
time--not over-heavily.
"Sir," said Gentleman Jones,
making me a bow, "you have now
received your first lesson in
morality. Always speak the truth;
and never say what is false of
another man behind his back.
To-morrow, with your kind permission,
we will finally settle the adjourned
question of the caricature. Good-night."
I was far too sensible a man
to leave the settling of that
question to him. The first thing
in the morning I sent a polite
note to Gentleman Jones, informing
him that I had abandoned all
idea of exhibiting his likeness
to the public in my series of
prints, and giving him full permission
to inspect every design I made
before it went out of the prison.
I received a most civil answer,
thanking me for my courtesy,
and complimenting me on the extraordinary
aptitude with which I profited
by the most incomplete and elementary
instruction. I thought I deserved
the compliment, and I think so
still. Our conduct, as I have
already intimated, was honorable
to us, on either side. It was
honorable attention on the part
of Gentleman Jones to correct
me when I was in error; it was
honorable common sense in me
to profit by the correction.
I have never seen this great
man since he compounded with
his creditors and got out of
prison; but my feelings toward
him are still those of profound
gratitude and respect. He gave
me the only useful teaching I
ever had; and if this should
meet the eye of Gentleman Jones
I hereby thank him for beginning
and ending my education in two
evenings, without costing me
or my family a single farthing.
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