A Full and True Account of the Wonderful Mission of Earl Lavender, which lasted one night and one day: with a history of the pursuit of Earl Lavender and Lord Brumm by Mrs. Scamler and Maud Emblem ... With a frontispiece by Aubrey Beardsley

Front matter

EARL LAVENDER a BY THE SAME AUTHOR. ♦ PERFERVID : The Career ok Ninian Jamieson. with 23 Original Illustrations by Harry Furniss, post 8vo, 2nd Edition, 2s. 6d. THE GREAT MEN, and A Practical Novelist, Illustrated by E. J. ELLIS. Crown Svo, 3s. 6d. BAPTIST LAKE. Crown 8vo, buckram, 3s. 6d. IN A MUSIC HALL, And other Poems. Crown 8vo, 5s. WARD & DOWNEY, Ltd., LONDON. AUBHEV BEAP DSLEY HI A FULL AND TRUE ACCOUNT OF THE WONDERFUL MISSION OF EARL LAVENDER, WHICH LASTED ONE NIGHT AND ONE DAY : WITH A HISTORY OF THE PURSUIT OF EARL LAVENDER AND LORD BRUMM BY MRS SCAMLER AND MAUD EMBLEM. BV JOHN DAVIDSON. WITH A FRONTISPIECE BT AUBREY BEARDSLEY. LONDON: 12 YORK BUILDINGS, ADELF WARD & DOWNEY, LIMITED. Though our eyes turn ever waveward, Whe7'e our su7t is well-nigh set ; Though our Ce7itury totters graveward, We may laugh a little yet.

Oh ! our age-e7id style perplexes All our elders' time has tamed ; On our sleeves we wear our sexes, Our diseases, unashamed. Have we lost the 77iood ro77ia7itic That was once our right by birth ? Lo ! the greenest girl is frantic With the woe of all the earth ! But we k,7iow a British rumour, And we thi7ik it whispers well : ' We would ve7itilate our humour Ln the very jaws of HellT Though our thoughts turn ever Doomwa7'ds. Though our su7i is well-7iigh set, Tkough our Century totters tombwards, We may laugh a little yet. ' / undertoke to make a boke Which stant between ernest and game.' Gower. ' Confessio Amantis.' Bk. NOTE It has been maintained that the so-called Decadence is factitious, and exists only in the fancies of a few, who are misled mainly by the moribund condition of the nineteenth century, now well advanced in its last decade.

It is true that definite periods do not usually end with chrono logical parallelism so pat to the neces sities of competitive examinees. On the other hand, there may be in the recrud escence of Flagellation, as recorded in this ' full and true account,' an indication of a critical turn in the history of the world. Ac complished stages in the development of Note VIII peoples have again and again been accompanied by the formation of Societies for the practice of scourging. The first appearance of Flagellants, which took place in the begin ning of the thirteenth century, was synchron ous with the signature of Magna Charta ; and their reorganisation some fifty years later occurred at the same time as the over throw of the Saracen Empire. In the middle of the fourteenth century, when the Flagel lants overran Germany for the first time, Rienzi was Tribune of Rome.

Chapter I How They Dined In The Strand

' I should like to know very much why you came here,' said a middle-aged man to his younger companion in a restaurant in the Strand. It was the evening of a June day, and the restaurant, although not crowded, was close and hot. The speaker and his com panion sat side by side at a table opposite the door, in order to encounter whatever air might be going. They were at the back of the room, which was so long and narrow that the view of the Strand by the open door had the strangeness of a scene observed through an archway. A ' Why come here ? ' repeated the middle aged man. 'A hot, stuffy, little hole.' ' But clean,' said the young man. ' You will soon know the reason. Waiter, cold roast for two, and two pints of bitter.' The middle-aged man grew pale, and uttered a half-articulate ' What ? ' ' Yes, it has come to this/ said the other, laying two half-crowns on the table.

The middle-aged man stared at the coins-; a helpless smile overspread his broad, good humoured face ; he bowed his head and muttered, ' Cold roast ! ' ' With cabinet-pudding to follow,' added his companion. ' Cabinet-pudding ! ' exclaimed the middle aged man, starting to his feet, and sitting down immediately in mingled protest, chagrin and resignation. ' Two roast beefs, one and eightpence ; two breads, twopence ; two beers, eightpence ; two puddings, eightpence ; three and twopence in all,' said the younger man calmly. ' Leaving one and tenpence,' groaned the Earl Lave7ider 3 other. 'And I've got accustomed to bene dictine and a partaga after dinner.' ' Benedictine, ninepence each ; leaves four pence. We must have twopenny cigars.' " ' Never ! ' cried the middle-aged man. 'We shall have ninepenny cigars and twos of whisky.' ' It's all the same to me,' said the other. ' Comrade,' continued the younger man, ' you seem put out.

I like our impecuniosity.' ' You're young, and like anything new. It's change you want. I'm middle-aged, and there's nothing staler to me than change. Constant comfort and little luxuries as regu lar as the clock are fresher than change.' The other made no reply, and they were soon discussing the cold roast with very good appetites. Through the open door they watched the cabs and 'buses and the crowd of walkers, like objects in a peep-show. They were in good physical condition ; the rapid passage of the ever changing throng across their narrow field of vision was pleasing to their eyes, and the hum and tramp and muffled roar soothed them like a lullaby. The falsely-blamed cabinet-pudding was cordially forgiven, and the last drop of beer had a vinous flavour. • Where shall we smoke ? ' said the elder of the two, setting down his pewter pot with a faint sigh. 'In a public - house,' replied the other. ' We can't get twos of whisky anywhere else.' The middle-aged man acquiesced in silence. ' Ha ! ' he whispered suddenly, clutching his companion's arm ; ' you've given the waiter fourpence.

We can't have ninepenny cigars now.' ' Neither we can. What's to be done ? ' ' I'm afraid we must have threes of whisky, and be content with sixpenny cigars.' ' Then we can stay where we are.' ' And now,' said the middle-ag-ed man, when their cigars were lit, ' what do you propose to do ? ' ' I propose that we dedicate ourselves to chance.' ' Have you no friends in London ? ' ' None. Have you ? ' ' None. But how shall we dedicate our selves to chance ? ' ' We have practically done so by spending our last penny ; but let us accept our fate with thorough goodwill, and look upon our destitution as the very highest compliment Providence could have paid us. It shall now appear of what stuff we are made.' ' Yes,' said the middle-aged man slowly. ' I said Providence,' continued the younger man, 'but I really mean Evolution.

Some years ago I thought of coming to London without a penny, and seeing what would happen, but the idea gradually dropped into the background. Now I find myself exactly in the predicament into which I once thought of volunteering.' ' Ah ! ' interrupted the middle-aged man, ' I, too, have sometimes found myself in cir cumstances which I had imagined years be fore.' ' Of course,' said the other. ' I therefore understand, since it has come about without my will, that it is lawful for me to make the experiment.' *L To dedicate yourself to chance ? ' ' That was my phrase ; but you mustn't misapprehend me. I am gradually leading up to a revelation which it is now time for me to make. Chance is only the operation of undetected laws, or the elasticity of laws already known. Do not suppose that in this dedication I am doing anything extravagant.

I recognise the facts of the case, and shall proceed with a perfect reliance on Evolution.' ' And you wish me to accompany you — relying on Evolution?' ' I shall be very glad if you will.' ' How old are you ? ' asked the middle aged man. ' Twenty-five. And you ? ' ' Forty. We got on beautifully while we had money. Are our ages suitable for roughing it together ? ' ' Ah ! Have you any strong convictions ? Are you what is called religiously inclined ? ' ' Not specially ; but I can understand how people go over to the Church of Rome, for example.' ' Then you will be able to understand me,' said the young man. ' I am of a religious temperament, and Evolution is my religion. What others mean by Evolution I don't know ; I have never read anything about it, although I have looked through a good many books in my time.

But one day three years ago, as I was passing along the main street of our town to play in a county match, I heard one man say to another, very earnestly, — " Evolution is more than a theory ; it is a religion." The remark arrested me. I brooded over it all after noon ; I couldn't score for thinking of it. I knew, of course, and attached a kind of meaning to such phrases as " the missing link" and "the survival of the fittest," and I succeeded in thinking out for myself a sort of dogma of Evolution.' ' You may be said to have " got Evolu tion " in this sudden way, just as people talk about "getting religion."' ' Precisely. I was converted. Sometimes I can dogmatise about Evolution, and some times I can't; but since my conversion I have lived an evolutionary life — consciously, that is. We cannot help being Evolutionists, just as we cannot help being human ; but we may rebel against and sneer at Evolution in the same way as degraded or powerful intellects mock at humanity ; or, through ignorance, we may thwart the intention of Evolution with regard to ourselves.

Now, for three years, I have subordinated my will to the evolutionary will, with the result that I have been perfectly happy. Happy, in deed, seems to me too weak a word to describe the serenity of my mind, and the delight which I feel in every member of my body. I am thorougly convinced that I am quite fit, and that I shall survive — why, there is no saying how long I may survive, if, as I shrewdly suspect, I am the fittest.' ' The fittest ? ' ' Yes ; not among the fittest only, but the very fittest human male at present breathing.' A smile betrayed the middle-aged man's amusement ; but as his companion was speak ing ingenuously, he quickly resumed his gravity. ' What makes you think that you are the fittest ? ' asked the middle-aged man. ' It is not quite easy to tell ; but the feeling of superiority to other people which is constant with me, and of equality with everything — with the universe, in fact — leads me to cherish this high opinion of myself.

The equal of the universe : I am, as it were, one side of an equation, of which the universe is the other.' ' I see.' ' Yes. Now I have two immediate objects in view. The first is to devote myself to the evolutionary life more thoroughly than I have yet done — to think, speak, do nothing but what is evolutionary. Hitherto I have been little more than a passive Evolutionist. Henceforth I shall be the active agent, the apostle of Evolution. I shall give Evolu tion ample opportunity to vindicate my fitness, and that as publicly as possible in order to convert others.' • How will you give Evolution ample op portunity to vindicate your fitness ? ' asked the middle-aged man. ' You shall see that to-night. My second object is to find the fittest woman, and mate with her. This is a more complicated matter than you may think.

It may seem to you a very simple thing to give the world proof of my supreme fitness, and then advertise in The Times for the fittest woman. It is really a simple plan, and might be very successful. We could make a lottery of it, each applicant paying five pounds, and the whole sum sub scribed becoming the dowery of the chosen one. If five hundred thousand women applied, which is not an over-estimate I think, that would give a portion of two and a half millions — not too much for the fittest woman, especially as it would all be spent in the promulgation of Evolution. But, as I said, there is a difficulty — of which I may tell you hereafter.' ' Have you nothing left to pawn ? ' asked the middle-aged man very ruefully, having paid little attention to his companion's last speech. ' Nothing.' ' Well, I think you might have been more careful with the money.' ' My friend, you are too irritable.

Let us review the situation. A week ago — is it a week ago ? ' ' Yes ; a day more in fact.' ' Eight days ago you and I met each other in the smoking-room of the Great British Railway Hotel. There was nobody in the room but ourselves, and we got into conversation. Without telling each other plainly — we tried rather to hide it from each other, and so betrayed the fact that we had both, to put it shortly, run away ; you at forty, I at twenty-five. It was plain also that we had both run away precipitately, for we had practically no luggage. Neither of us, of course, had travelled by the Great British Railway. You had arrived at Waterloo, I at Liverpool Street, and each had selected the Great British Hotel for a hid ing place as being both out of the way, and near at hand. That evening we went out together, and you had your pocket picked.

You asked me for the loan of a few pounds, which I promptly refused, for I had already made up my mind to become destitute as Earl Lave7ider 12 soon as possible, and had also thought of you as a companion in the experiment. In deed, if you consider it, I had no choice in the matter. Evolution, by driving you away from your friends with but a scanty supply of money, and bringing you to the Great British Hotel, threw you at my head as it were. I had forty pounds. We have smoked and drunk and eaten them with much pleasure and profit in eight days ; also our watches, chains, rings and studs, and now, with our bodies in capital tune, and our minds quite free — mine, at least, almost quite free from care, we may, con fident in the power of Evolution to protect the fit, go forth into the streets to-night, homeless and penniless.' ' Why not start in the morning instead ?

Let us have one more comfortable sleep in the hotel, one more good breakfast, and then, hey for broken victuals and a bed in Leicester Square.' ' Spoken like a man ! But, my friend, you misunderstand the matter entirely. We are not going to live on broken victuals, and sleep under bridges. But first of all make up your mind that we cannot return to the hotel. Our deposit there is exhausted, and they wouldn't take us in without an other payment in advance, for you recollect we have no luggage. Besides, they begin to suspect us. We both came to the hotel on the same day, and both gave the name of "J. Smith." Strangers to each other at first, we suddenly struck up a great intimacy. You see, they are bound to be suspicious, and perhaps would not readmit us even with a fresh deposit. We can't go back to the hotel.' ' We can at least return for the under clothing and night-shirts we bought.' ' And what should we do with them ? ' ' Take them with us of course.' ' Under our arms ?

Do you think Evolu tion would help men who went about with brown paper parcels ? ' ' We could leave them in the left luggage office.' ' You forget ; we haven't twopence to pay for the ticket.' The middle-aged man groaned. ' There's nothing but beggary and bridges for it then,' he said. 'Again you mistake. If I am, as I have every right to suspect, the fittest human being at present breathing, nothing will be allowed to betide me likely to interfere with my superb condition ; and you, as the com panion provided for me, will share in my good fortune. Plenty of the best food and drink, comfortable beds, clothes, and changes of linen when we need them will be pro vided for us, or there is no truth in Evolu tion.' ' But can't you get some money ? Can't you write your friends for money ? ' ' Can't you ? ' ' No ; not yet, at least,' replied the elder of the two. * My whole life has been dislo cated, and I can't make up my mind to any thing.' ' I sympathise with you from my heart,' said his companion. ' I have noticed that you often fall silent, while a sombre look steals into your face.

You suffer much ; I Earl Lave7ider 15 can see it ; and I admire the pluck with which you sustain your grief.' 'At my age,' replied the other pathetically, ' eating and drinking are of great con sequence. Although I have always lived well enough, I have never had such exquisite fare and such variety as during the past week ; it was that that kept me from brood ing. But now that we are destitute I am afraid I shall give way.' ' Banish the fear. Sadness and repining are most unevolutionary. If you are fit, you will be cheerful, no matter what happens. Come, my friend, put a better face on it. Let us go out into the Strand.' ' I'll be as cheerful as I can.' ' Well resolved. You shall be my first disciple. We go forth to-night to conquer the world for Evolution.' The destitute pair walked in the direction of Charing Cross— the younger, in undis turbed serenity ; the elder, resigned and somewhat awestruck by the absolute mood of his companion.

As they passed along the street nothing could be detected in their appearance differing from that of other well dressed men. Tall, dark, with well-marked, regular features, and a small moustache — one looked like a young man about town ; while the other, who was plump, clean-shaven, and with a ruddy complexion, might have passed for a well-to-do merchant. The contrast between their commonplace look and their extraordinary mission struck the younger man, and he remarked on it to his companion. ' Yes,' was the reply ; ' we certainly don't look like apostles, and I'm very sure I don't feel like one.' ' The feeling will come ; it requires to b(_ evolved,' rejoined the other. 'And now, since we are fairly started, it becomes us to have names. I suppose that neither of us is really called "J. Smith," and as we have apparently reason to conceal our true names we must choose others.

What do you say? Can you suggest names ? ' ' Since it is a mission we are on,' replied the middle-aged man, 'should we not call ourselves saint something or other. All the great missionaries were saints.' Earl Lavenaer 17 ' There is a deal in what you say,' rejoined the younger man. ' But you must remember the saints you refer to were not canonised in their lifetime ; besides Evolution can hardly be expected to borrow a title from Roman Catholicism. You are, however, on the right tack ; our names must be symbolic of our mission. It seems to me that we must in some way indicate that we are the men of the future, yet taking along with us all that is sane from the past. How would it do were I to call myself Lord of the Future ? ' ' It wouldn't do,' said his companion. ' I daresay not ; it is indeed too naked a revelation.

We must get a velvet glove for the hand of iron. I have it ! I shall call myself Earl de l'Avenir.' ' Earl de Lavender ? queried the middle aged man. What has that to do with it ? ' ' De Lavender ! ' cried the other. ' Your mistake is the fiat of Evolution ; I accept the name. Have we not ' Birdcage Walk ' from bocage, and ' sparrowgrass ' from asparagus ? Why not then Lavender from Favenir? Thanks, friend ; the more I consider it the B more symbolic it appears. As savenir is wrapped up and concealed in my new name of Lavender, so the future is wrapped up in me. Then the English meaning of the word ! The sweet herb housewives use in linen presses. I shall be the sweetener of the age. See you ; I have not mistaken my mission ; everything points out my destiny. Earl Lavender ! I am to be called Earl Lavender.' ' Why Earl ? ' ' Because it is the finest of titles, and signifies that we shall carry with us into the future all that was highest and noblest in the past.

And now for your name. Have you thought of one ? ' ' Must I call myself after a plant too ? ' ' It is not by any means necessary ; but why do you ask ? ' ' Because I should like to be called Plan tagenet.' ' Plantagenet ? But it is antique, and has no prophecy in it that I can see.' ' Can't you work a prophecy out of it ? ' ' Wisely said ; we must evolve a prophetic meaning ; to that end it was suggested to Earl Lave7tder 19 you. And I have it at once. Plantagenet — planta genista — I remember from the school history, is the plant broom. You are, there fore, to be called Broom, and to indicate the part you are to play in our mission, you shall use the epithet new — Mr New Broom. Ha ! ' ' But why am I to be called only mister, while you take the title of earl ? ' ' Because you are to be my henchman.

I can't say I like mister though. You may call yourself New Broom, Esq., or Sir New Broom ; the henchman of an earl may very well be a knight.' ' I see,' said the middle-aged man slowly. ' But don't you think that New Broom, like Lord of the Future, betrays its meaning too nakedly ? ' ' Right again,' replied he, who will hence forth be called Earl Lavender. ' And again Evolution comes promptly to my aid. You shall be called Mr Brumm.' ' Why not Lord Brumm ? ! ' The henchman of an earl could hardly be a peer. But no matter. Lord Brumm you shall be ; to reject any suggestion whatever, might be to go in the very teeth of Evolution.' It was in this way that Lord Brumm — to give the middle-aged man his easily acquired title — not being a person of much resource, fell quietly into the extravagant humour of his companion.

Chapter II How They Dined In Fleet Street

By the time Earl Lavender and Lord Brumm had chosen these names, they found themselves entering Trafalgar Square. Here Earl Lavender began to look about him, and to move with hesitation. ' I will not disguise from you, good Brougham,' he said at length, leaning against a lamp-post, 'that I am waiting for an in dication.' ' An indication of what ? ' ' Of our next proceeding.' ' Possibly I can supply the indication.' ' Why should you doubt it ? An indication may come from anybody and anything. Evolution knows not the insignificant.' ' Well, then, my lord,' rejoined Brumm, ' I and my stomach are strongly of opinion that they have had only half a dinner, which seems to me to indicate that we ought to go somewhere and eat something. Whatever else may be fit or unfit about me, I have always had, and have now, a very fit appetite.

The cold roast and cabinet-pudding were only a whet.' ' That is the indication ; there can be no doubt of it,' said Earl Lavender ; ' especially as it involves our first practical assay in the evolutionary life ; and, to confess the truth, I am myself still very hungry. We must decide,' continued Earl Lavender, as they turned again into the Strand, ' which restau rant we shall honour.' ' The best in the Strand, I say.' 1 Say rather the best restaurant for our purpose, and that I imagine will be found in Fleet Street. I understand there are res taurants in Fleet Street frequented by journalists. It behoves us, then, to make our first public demonstration of the evolutionary life in one of these old - fashioned eating houses, the resort of editors, leader-writers and newsmongers, and the haunt of the ghosts of the literary men of the eighteenth century.

I do not mean that we are to angle for a report of our proceedings in to morrow's paper, but our conduct and our words cannot fail to have a lasting effect on the pressmen who shall behold and hear them, and who, influenced by our sayings and doings, shall, in their writings, directly or indirectly, disseminate our doctrine. Now, as you are better acquainted with London than I am, can you lead the way to such a restaurant ? ' ' I can,' said Brumm, stepping out briskly. ' I can take you to an eating-house where you will get the best steak in England.' ' What is it called ? ' 'It is the old "Cap-and-Bells" in Dead man's Alley, that opens on the left a little before you come to Ludgate Hill.' ' Admirable ! I have never been there ; but I have often heard of it as a house much used by journalists.' Earl Lavender and his henchman walked as rapidly as the crowded state of the streets would permit, and scon arrived at Deadman's Alley.

They at once entered the room on the ground floor of the "Cap-and-Bells," where Brumm ordered two steaks, and two pints of the old ale for which the inn was famous. He was in a considerable fright immediately after he had done so, remembering that as he had given the order he was directly respon sible for the payment ; but Earl Lavender, noticing his anxiety and understanding its cause, comforted him. ' Fear not, good Brumm,' he said ; ' Evolution will protect its own.' The cheerful confidence of Earl Lavender's words, and the engaging candour and serenity which marked his whole expression reassured Brumm in a way incomprehensible to himself, and he began to prattle, as grown men whose minds are not quite infinite sometimes will. He praised the time-worn tables and boxes, the fresh sawdust on the floor, the big buxom fireplace, and the picture of Goldsmith which hung in a recess.

He remarked on the ponderous figure and grave expression of the head waiter, and derived much satisfaction from the agility and alert looks of his assistant. The old ale he found a thought too sweet, but with such body and such a rich nut-brown hue! He whispered to Earl Lavender to note how sleek and solid two old gentlemen were who had just finished their steaks, and were waiting placidly for the stewed cheese. He got quite excited over their splendid condition. ' That's what English feeding can do,' he said. ' I'll be bound these old fellows have dined here every day of their lives for the last twenty years. It was chops and steaks and beef-steak puddings that matured these smooth, pink cheeks and heaving shoulders. Their hair's white, and they are over sixty both of them ; but they've never known indigestion.

They'll go on dining here for another twenty years, and eat a steak with out the least suspicion that it will be their last the very day they die. Such men stop simply ; they can't be said to die. I wonder now if they're journalists. They don't look like journalists ; they're not worried enough. No, they must be bank cashiers, or tailors and clothiers with old established shops, or perhaps chemists and druggists.' How long Lord Brumm would have gone on in this strain it is impossible to say. Just when he had made up his mind that the two old gentlemen were chemists and druggists, because they were so neat and clean and medicinal-looking, the ponderous head waiter brought in the steaks, with dimpled, mealy potatoes bursting from their jackets, and great hunks of household bread with a burnt crust half an inch deep.

Earl Lavender, who had listened smilingly to his henchman's unexpected eloquence, admitted that the old fellows were passably fit in body ; but as for their minds he was quite certain they hadn't any left. 'You will find, Brumm,' said Earl Lavender, ' that one of two things must be sacrificed by every man who lives to be over sixty — the mind, or the liver. I'll guarantee that these old boys, however philosophical or poetical they may have been in their young days, could no more secrete thought now than a statue of Cybele could suckle the Foundling Hospital ; but for the due distillation of a healthy supply of bile I doubt not it would be difficult to beat them. Bile or thought, good Brumm, at your grand climacteric you must dispense for good with the one or the other.' ' God send it to be thought then !