Chico Williams

The Ups and Downs of Life

CHAPTER 1

Showing how I commenced my career in the Court of Venus

The son of a gentleman of moderate fortune, whom I lost when quite a child, I was designed from the first for the army. Having, at the age of sixteen, been presented with a cadetship, so soon as my outfit was completed, I started by the mail for Portsmouth, on a cold night in February 1834.

Arrived at Portsmouth, I put up at the Fountain Inn, the George being full, and the next day called at the latter hotel to pay my respects and present a letter of introduction to Major S-, who, with his three nieces and daughter, was there staying.

I found the old major discussing a bottle of port, in spite of his gout, and he gave me hearty reception. He was a specimen of the old school of company's officers, of which few now remain. Bluff, hearty and hospitable, he was a man of some sixty years of age, who had seen some hard service in his youth. But poverty, that bane of human life, forbade his enjoying his otium cum dignitate. In fact, he was again returning to India in search of his colonelcy, which promotion yet tarried.

'Well, youngster,' said he, 'so you're going to try your fortune in India, eh? you won't find the Pagodas grow on the trees now, my lad, the golden fruit has been plucked long ago; but you seem a likely young chap, so I drink to your success, here's to you, my boy,' and he swallowed a bumper, pushing the bottle at the same time to me. I tippled and talked, for I was not troubled with mauvaise honte even at sixteen, and at eight o'clock I rose to take leave. 'Well, my lad, good-night,' said the old major, 'and harkee, the skipper tells me that we are likely to be detained here for a week or two by this cursed south-west gale, so you had better come and take up your quarters with me at Southsea, where I have taken lodgings — 22 Portsea Terrace — come tomorrow and I'll introduce you to my nieces!' At the words nieces I pricked up my ears, and promising to come, I took leave and returned to the Fountain. I went into the coffee-room and, in the grand way known only to griffins, called loudly for a pint of wine and some filberts. The boxes were all occupied, and as I sought for a table, a fine, handsome fellow who was languidly drinking a bottle of claret, accosted me. 'Here's room, take a seat here, glad of your company.' I bowed carelessly, for I had been so used to meet good society at my uncle's, that I had none of the schoolboy shyness which is usual with beardless boys of sixteen. I did not notice it then, but I have since thought my quondam acquaintance must have been immensely amused with me.

When the waiter brought my 'stingy port', he passed his claret to me, saying, 'Don't drink that stuff, try this, 'tis real Chateau Margaux, by God, try it.'

I sipped a glass and made a wry face, 'Thank you,' said I, 'I'd rather stick to my stingo.' He shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing, so I went on with my port. My new friend then informed me that he belonged to the British Legion, under Sir De Lacy Evans, and was pledged to the cause of Don Pedro, and was, like me, waiting for a fair wind to sail to Portugal. Of course, I reciprocated his confidence by telling him that I was going to India as a cadet.

As soon as we had both finished our wine, he pulled out a cigar-case and lit a real Havannah, a rarity in those non-smoking days, then he offered me his case. I was wonderfully fascinated with this man — his handsome person, black moustache turned up a la Carolus 1st, and dashing air quite captivated me.

'What are you going to do tonight?' said he.