The Miser's fate : A romance

Front matter

COMPLETE PRICE ONE SHILLING THE MISER'S FATE: EMBRACING THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF BOB NORBERRY, AN IRISH REPORTER. BY CAPTAIN R O'SHAUGNESSY- " Tako 3 penny from _ hundred pounds, and you are no 'longer master of that sub." LONDON: PRINTED BY E. LLOYD; PUBLISHED BY G. PURKESS, COMs TON- ', STREET, SOHO; STRANGE, PATERNOSTER-ROW; AND SOLD BY j ALL BOOKSELLERS. FATE. 3 Homancr LONDON: PUBLISHED BY G. PURKESS, COMPTON-STREET, SOHO ; LLOYD, SALISBURY SQUARE, AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS EATE.

Chapter I

, SOME ACCOUNT OF THE NOttBERRY FAMILY. — WHO AND WHAT THE GRANDFATHER OF BOB WAS.— DUBLIN SIXTY YEARS AGO. About seventeen years before the act of legislative union between Great Britain and Ireland had passed, and when thr west end of Dublin was the seat of commerce, wealth, and industry, there resided in an antiquated man sion iu the neighbourhood of James's-strest, the remains of which are still standing, a wealthy old miser named Nipper Norberry, of very retired and eccentric habits. His residence was one of those tile-covered pent-house dwell ings, which formed the general class of private buildings'in that city, some thing above two centuries ago j and he was more attached to it for the sake of old associations, than any comfort or accommodation it afforded. His fathe No. 1. before him had made a fortune in the place, which he, like a wise and pru dent son, had considerably increased ; and having no fancy for princely mansions in one of the squares (in truth there were few of them built at that time), he continued to reside there, enjoying more satisfaction in the accumulation of wealth than others find in spending it.

The Liberties of Dublin, which are now a mass of ruins and dilapidated houses, inhabited by squalid, half-famished looking mortals, who would seem to be denied a resting-place in any other spot under Heaven, were at that time inhabited by merchants and citizens of good estate. There the hum of industry was heard on all sides, and although machinery was not brought to any great degree of perfection, still every hand was employed, and the fabric produced was at least as durable and of more intrinsic value than anything similiar in modern times. The fly shuttle and the hand-loom were at work in the lower apartn ents of almost every building, and the silk throwsters and spinners were employed in the upper stories. Every dwelling was a little manufactory, where the artisan worked in his own abode, assisted and cheered on by the presence of a happy wife and family : he was then more moral and more healthy than the inmates of the great English factories of the present day, and his condition in life was infi nitely superior.

High-street, Thomas-Btreet, Francis-street, James's-street, and all that part of the city west of Dublin Castle, was then a busy scene of active industry ; and here did the ancestors of many noble houses and peers of the present day amass that wealth, as successful traders, which purchased honours and titles for their posterity. Amongst those quits and prosperous citizens then occupying this district, lived our wealthy merchant, in the same house which had been occupied by hie ancestors for some generations previously. If any one asked where Mr. Norberry lived, his next door neighbour, except he happened to be long resident in the place, could not tell, as he was generally designated " Old Hawk." After having retired from the more active pursuits of mercantile life, he took to lending money and discounting bills, which was then a very profitable trade, as the present legal facilities for the payment of debts did not exist, and bankruptcies and failures in trade were of very rare occurrence.

In this occupation, still adding to his wealth, he remained unmarried for many years, his household consisting all the time of an old woman named Shue Shaugness, or, as she would say herself when speaking of her own respectability and her family connections in the county of Limerick, " Judith O'Shaugnessey ;" a servant man called bliad Tim ; and a kind of clerk, who went backward and forward to the banks of Sir George Cold brooke and Company.in Mary's Abbey, and Dawson and Coates, in Thomas-street, where his employer made lodgments and did other business in the banking line, Blind Tim lived on board wages, and slept in a stable loft which was attached to a warehouse on the other side ofthe street ; and old Shue was allowed nine-pence a week to get her dinner, and had the privilege of the master's tea-pot, with a round of the loaf every morning when he had breakfasted.

He dined everyday at a tavern, and paid in proportion to the quality of the viands consumed. The clerk bad a small salary, and lodged in the house of a comb-maker opposite, where he was always within call or under his master's eye. Blind Tim's business was to take care of a pair of horses, each as old as himself, and to drive his master through the city in an old chaise which he had taken from a coachmaker in payment of a bad debt. There are many citizens still living who remember the equipage of Old v. j amonSst whcm ml'ght be mentioned a venerable alderman, who was then a handsome young lad, and in some way connected with tbe Norberry family, although Old Hawk held him in the greatest contempt as a coxcomb that would never rise in the world; but his predictions in this respect were falsified.

The horses were originally black, but had grown grey from age : the solitary occupant ot the old coach was in perfect keeping with the driver and horses, and on the whole it might be said that a more suitably appointed "turn out" had been seldom seen in the fair city of Dublin. The tradesmen at work in the Liberty and the very children in the streets, knew the rumble of Old Hawk's shandredan as he drove about collecting his interest money, and the rents of various houses in that quarter of the town, of which he was the owner. Such is a short outline of the household arrangements and manner of living of Old Hawk until he was nearly sixty years of age, when he took it into his head to marry. The social philosophy contained in the aphorism, " Tell me what sort a man's wife is, and I will tell you the life he led," has more wisdom in it than can be at onee comprehended ; and it is a remarkable fact, capable of proof amongst us in every-day life, that misers, money-hunters, and men of lax morals, whether in high or low society, hardly ever form respectable matrimonial alliances.

Whilst young, the sordid and avaricious will not wed with women of equal rank and fortune, the love of money still prompting them to enter upon fresh speculations which ends in disappointment. The man who is not guided by strict morality cannot appreciate female virtue or the endearments of the congugal condition ; and hence both are found either in the ranks of old bachelors, or they make matches in after life which seem to be a penalty upon the faults of their early days. An old bachelor is, notwithstanding, sagacious enough to know that any young woman of equal rank who marries him, does so for the purpose of spending bis money, or in the hope of being shortly honoured by the appellation of " the rich window." The miser knows, too, a marriage of this description would considerably increase his expenses, and hence it is, that the matrimonial alliances of such men are made with women who are content to act in the double capacity of servant and wife.

Old Hawk, when nearly sixty, began to entertain serious notions of matrimony, and circumstances occurred which hurried him to the fulfilment of his intentions. One day that he had been more than usually successful in his money speculations, he dined according to the custom at his tavern, but having staid out late blind Tim went to biing him home. He had drunk rather freely, and when Tim arrived at the " Ram" in Augier-street, he found the landlord on the point of sending a messenger to Allen's livery stables and carriage yard in Lazor's-hill for a charriot to convey Old Hawk to his residence in James's-street, he being supposed unable to keep his perpendicular, even by the assistance of the watchmen, who, in the good old times, before teetotalism was thought of, were in the habit of conveying drunken people from one station to another, until arrived at their own home.

This by the way, was often a very lucrative employment to those trusty guardians ofthe night, who generally eased the pockets of their protegees of any loose money or watches with which thev might be encumbered. To tell the truth of Old Hawk, he had never before been qualified to receive the protection ofthe Dublin watch men, who were constantly in the habit of visiting his tavern, as well as others, at a late hour ofthe night, to know d there were any drunken gentleman to be brought home, to whom they were always ready and willing to act as guardians and conductors. On the night in question, two of those professional gentlemen had made a tour of inspection through all the sitting-rooms at the " Ram," with the view of ascer taining who would require their services, when, to their infinite joy, they discovered Old Hawk, amongst others, a fit subject upon which to exercise their philanthropic intentions.

A golden world opened before them ; he was rich beyond bounds ; it was a long journey from the " Ram" in Aungier-street to his residence in James's street, and all the gentlemen along the whole line, amongst whom the most perfect sympathy of sentiment and unity of purpose existed, would have at least paid them selves well for their trouble in conveying him home. The two officious wortbies who thus offered thir services, told Tom Fogarty, the landlord of the " Ram" to give the old gentleman another go, and he would be just fit to travel ; they thought he was not sober enough to walk home himself, nor drunk enough to be quiet, so that unless he got a little more they apprehended they would have con siderable trouble with him. Fogarty was an honest Munster man, who had made a little money by his calling, and had the reputation of treating his customers fairly and dealing honestly with the world ; he refused to allow the watehmento interfere at all, and had proposed, as already stated, to send to Allen's for a chariot to convey Old Hawk and himself to James's-street, for he intended leaving him safe and sound under his own roof.

The professional gentlemen were deeply chagrined at this unexpected interference in a matter so much connected with their own interests, and they told Fogarty he might mark the consequences of his imprudence ; he ought to know the influence they had with Recorder Brad street and all the magistrates ; they never reported his house, although that might often have been done ; but if he did not allow them.to mind their own affairs, they would open a new leaf, and send the bogtrotter back to Munster amongst the rebels, instead of allowing him to make money like a gentleman in the loyal city of Dublin. Fogarty was inexorable to their threats and entreaties, and thc messenger was going off for the chariot when blind Tim arrived, and the guardians of the night were obliged to depart, disappointed in their expectations, and vowing vengeance on the honest tavern-keeper.

In the mean time he who formed tbe subject of their discussion had sufficiently recovered from the effects of the brandy punch which he had taken, to understand the nature of the conversation, and to appreciate the honest intentions of his worthy host ; then the arrival of his faithful servant, who for upwards of thirty years had never seen him affected by intoxicating drink, seemed to act upon him like a galvanic battery, and he started from his seat with a vigour which astonished all the spectators. " I have heard," said Old Hawk, " all that passed whilst those robbers, who are a disgrace to our city, were endeavouring to get me into their clutches, and I shall no longer hesitate in the prosecution of a purpose which has long occupied my mind, but which I have never yet had the resolution to avow ; you (looking at Fogarty) sha.ll hear very soon what it is I have in contemplation ; there is perhaps no other man in existence who can so materially assist in the accomplishment of my proj cet, and I am snre you will the more readily lend your aid when you find that what I intend to do vnll be of advantage to yourself; but there is one barrier which must of course be removed before any thing can be finally accomplished.

Fogarty replied, that there was nothing in his power that he would not do to make Mr. Norberry happy, for he had been greatly honoured by the patronage which he bestowed on his house so long, as well as for the many friends whom he had recommended there. Whilst this conversation was going on, the chariot which was to take Old Hawk home arrived at the door of the " Ram" and blind Tim proposed conveying his master thither without any further delay ; but his proposal was interupted by an inquiry from the latter of — "What is the hour?" The landlord replied — " Five minutes after twelve." "Right !" said Old Hawk, "it was not twelve when the chariot was or dered at Allen's, and I will therefore only have to pay ' day fare' for it." It may be here stated, that in these good old times the price of a chariot for an hour, if engaged before twelve o'clock at night, was only .a. shilling, but between that and six o'clock m the morning the fare was one and sixpence, and the worthy old gentleman was anxious that he should have the benefit of an engagement made one minute before that hour, being thereby enabled to save sixpence The charioteer interfered by saying he admitted it was a minute or two before twelve when the order came, but the clock had struck before he had turned out, and he was therefore entitled to night fare.

A rejoinder from Old Hawk followed, by a recommendation from the landlord to compromise the matter, as it seemed to involve a point of law, and after some controversy it was agreed that the contending parties should split the difference between them, and leave the sum to be paid Zcht .th/eePence''nsteadof1one^d sixpence. Tim and his master entered the chariot, and on their arrival at home, he seemed to have become perfectly They discharged their charioteer, and entered their cheerless dwelling, which gave no sign of life, except the chirping of a swarm of crickets, that occupied the ground floor when all other company were absent. Old Shue had gone to bed the fire was out, and blind Tim was obliged to go to a neighbouring watch-house to light a candle. On his return, Old Hawk took him into the parlour, which served the treble purpose of office, bed-room, and sitting room ; near the window was a strong oak desk with an iron railing round it, opposite which was a safe built into the wall ; at the other [end was a cupboard or press which served to hold the scanty viands and table-ware with which the house was supplied jbehind the door was a huge clock in an oaken case as large as a sentry-box, which had stood there for a couple of generations, and whose loud and healthy stroke gave promise that it would continue to vibrate long after many a human heart, bent on worldly gain, and fraught with plans calculated to oppress or deceive their fellow-men, had mouldered into dust.

In another part of the room was a press-bed, which turned up into a niche in the wall ; there were a few oak chairs and two small tables of the same material, which completed the entire furniture of Old Hawk's state apartment. When Tim entered with the candle, his master sent him in search of old Shue's firewood, and, after lighting a fire, he sat down, and they drew their chairs together. There are moments when the man whe makes himself the outcast of society by his inordinate thirst for gold, and the sordid practices which he adopts in pursuit of it, feels that he is alone in the world, and that amongst the sons of men there is hardly one with whom he can reciprocate one kindly feeling, or in whom he can confide, either in the hour of success or of sorrow ; and that if there be one such friend, it is an old and faithful servant, who has entered into the feel ings of his master, and becomes reconciled to his habits and his eccentricities.

Tim was one of those faithful domestics, whose nature it was to be attached to any person or thing with which he was connected, and was, in point of fact, as fend of the old horses as he was of his master, and any esteem he might have to spare for a third object was given to old Shue. He was paid his board wages to the hour, and his standing wages were put to interest, which was paid quarterly and added to the principal, so that by careful management, under the direction of his master, he had amassed some money. The master was, besides, naturally quiet in his disposition, and never found fault with anything, provided he was successful in his money-getting pursuits, which was most generally the case ; so that Tim's situation was after all as agreeable as that of a man serving a titled master with a splen did equipage and a numerous retinue of servants.

There was therefore a recipro city of feeling between them, that alas ! seldom exists between master and servant. " Tim," said Old Hawk, as the billets of wood that had been lighted blazed up briskly, " hand me the bottle of wine that is in the safe ; I was made a present of a dozen by Mr. Jolly, for whom I cashed a small bill ; we will take a glass before we go to rest ; I want to tell you something of my great success to-day, and of my future intentions and prospects." Tim complied, and, having uncorked the bottle, sat down opposite his master the wood fire burned cheerfully in the rusty grate, and gave an appearance of com fort to the apartment which it had rarely worn. " Tim," continued Old Hawk, " put out that candle, the fire blazes so prettily that I think the candle light only spoils the effect of it ; and besides, conversation is pleasanter by a cheerful fire than if Ibe room was completely illuminated." *' Why," said Tim, "that's just what I was thinking, and I was really going to put itout before you spoke."

"Ah," replied the master, "you are just what I always found you to be, a faithful and considerate servant ; I would hardly have got on in this world and these hard times without such a friend, and in return for your fidelity I will tell you a good deal about my affairs." " Very well,'' said Tim, "nothing can give me greater satisfaction than to he«r about my master and all that concerns him. I have no other friend after all but you, and I would be the most ungrateful man upon earth if 1 did not take great interest in your success." Old Hawk then proceeded : " Yes, Tim, I tell you, that I know what you say is trie, and you being worthy of my confidence, I have now to inform you that I am about being married, that is, I have made up my mind about the matter, and I hope you will in a few days have a mistress ; but let me tell you first what I have done this day, or rather what good fortune has befallen me.

Whilst I was in the bank this morning I heardthe glorious news that the father of young Lord Flareaway, from whom I got the post obit about ten days ago, had just dropped dead in a fit ef apoplexy: he had been one of a large dinner party at Bishop Bloater's, and spoiled the fun and feeding by dropping dead at the dinner table before the feast was more than half over. I got a post obit for ten thousand, and all I gave the young rake was two thousand ; he had, besides, to pay Gripe the attorney a thumping bill of costs. And, by the way, that Gripe is a villain that must be closely watched ; he was to have given me half the profits on the young lord's bill of costs, and I have good reason to think that he cheated me out of a portion of it, but the truth will come out when I an; calling in the post obit, which will be now in a few days.

Only think of two thousand paid away ten days ago, bringing in five times the amount now ! Providence always favours the honest, saving, in dustrious man ; but sure if we did not get an odd lift of that kind we could never get on in these hard times. I knew when I got the post obit that the old lord was such a drunkard and glutton that he could not live for any time, but it was the goodness of G°d that brought him home so soon. I calculated upon two or three years ; only think of ten days ! Come, Tim, fill your glass, and we will drink success to all post obit transactions." Tim filled the glass, and said, " I don't exactly understand the meaning of these words, but what would you think, sir, if we drink to the memory of old Lord Flareaway ?" *' A capital idea," said Old Hawk, as he poured out a glass of good brown sherry, " let the toast then be, the memory of Lord Flareaway, and may all lords whose heirs owe honest men money soon meet the same fate.

" I say the same," replied Tim, and both swallowed off their wine. " He's gone — gone — and a new career Opens to me with the coming year." " Now listen to me for a moment,1' said Old Hawk, " whilst I tell you what I am about to do, and ask your advice upon the subject. I know the change I am about to make is a very important one, and will add a good deal to our expense ; but if we expend in one way we can curtail in another, and I know that you will give me all the assistance in your power." Tim replied, that much would depend upon the sort of mistress he would get, and added, that he was most impatient to hear her name. " That," continued his master, " you shall hear presently, and if I mistake not you will approve of her as a person who will not expect too much. I have long thought of the matter, but the occurrences of this night have decided me; Fogarty is »n honest man, and I will have his daughter Kate in marriage ; she is a saving, proper young woman, who will be a good wife.

I was in her father's house some time ago, when I heard her say that if she were a penny shoTt of a hundred pounds she would not be any longer able to pay that sum, and that it was the pennies saved more than the pennies earned that made the money. Now to hear sueh wisdom from the mouth of a girl so young is rare in this age of extravagance and folly, and if I don't mistake much, the daughter of Fogarty is worthy of being united to the Norberry family ; but this brother of mine, who has such high notions, aod whose son is now in college, will not consent to the alli ance, and will do all in his power to prevent it, and more particularly as he ex pects to get all my money, but I will disappoint all these expectants. Gripe, the villain, will be also disappointed in the accomplishment of certain plans he had laid for my ruin.

You know he is attorney to that broken down spendthrift Colonel Dilkes, who has for many years been living upon the money of other topic and keeping up appearances of splendour, regardless as to who will suffer in the end ; he has a daughter who has been forgotten by the world, although she has been ali her life accustomed to go into what is called high society, and only think of Gripe proposing to me to marry her, with a view, no doubt, of her father and family laying hold of my hard-earned money; but I shall disappoint them all : why, it would ruin a man, no matter what money he might have, to support a wife accus tomed to such extravagance. It won't do, Tim, it won't do, and Gripe shan'c pocket the poundage upon a settlement On the daughter of old Dilkes. Fill again ; here's ' Kate Fogarty of the Ram.' 11 1 cannot tell the reason, but I really want a wife, And every body tells me 'tis tbe sweetest tbing in life.' •' Kate Fogarty of the Ram," echoed Tim, and both again quaffed their wine " I approve highly of your choice," said the old servant, " I would like the beau tiful creature for a mistress ; but, master, you are too old to marry so young a woman, and you know besides, that you should have her consent ; has that been yet obtained 1" "No," said his master, "I have not yet spoken on the subject to herself or her father, for it was only this night I came finally to the conclusion of ma king her my wife.

There can be no disappointment in the matter ; only think ofthe honour that will be done to Fogarty the inn-keeper, by an alliance with the Norberry family, and the certainty that she will have all my wealth after my death. The thing is quite certain. Kate Fogarty the barmaid at the 'Ram' transformed into Mrs. Norberry ! the thing is too tempting, there can be no disappointment ; and lest any fatality should occur, I will propose the matter to-morrow to the young woman and her father, but it must be kept u secret for some time ; Gripe must be kept in ignorance of everything, the post obit shall be called in, and my papers taken out of his hands, before it is spoken of; but what is to be done with old Shue?" "Why, of course," said Tim," she will be a faithful servant to you and the mistress, as she has been to yourself; and as you must have one, you would not think of putting her away."

"I don't know how that may be yet; might I not as well marry the old Colonel's daughter, or some one like her, if I were to have servants to attend berP I think Kate Fogarty, even when she becomes Mrs. Norberry, will not be above her own business, and that we can live very comfortably without the expense of a seivant." "I am sure, master," said Tim, "that that will be matter for future arrange ment, and I can tell you fiona experience that your opinions with regard to the management of your affairs will be greatly changed by marriage. I was a very young man when I married Nancy Cassidy ; poor thing, she died after giving birth to a son in a little more than a year after our union; and, in plain truth, I must tell you, master, that it cost me more that year than for other five years of my existence ; I loved the poor soul, and in honour of her memory I never thought of marriage again.

It is now nearly thirty yeais since I came to your father's house, and I believe you have always found me a faithful ser vant ; the loss of my dear wife would have reconciled me to a fate much more unpleasant than to serve you.'1 "Oh," said Old Hawk, "you alarm me about the expense; why, if the wife had lived you would have been ruined." "I forgot to add," replied Tim, "that some way or other my means more than increased in a comparative degree with my expenses ; and I do believe, had God spared me my wife, I would have been better off in the world than I am, although I might have more care." " Why, that is consoling," rejoined the master, " and I think it is now time that we should retire to rest. I feel that new scenes of an extraordinary character are before me ; that even in my old days I shall be blessed with a good wife, and if I had but one son to inherit my wealth, I would die happy.

To-morrow Kate Fog artv the handsome daughter of the honest landlord of the ' Ram,' shall be hon- * ' « ■ l _t :_.____ s_.„-~- eetlo. V_n>_J nf (tin nTjwltamcm •fatYiilir oured by a proposal of marriage from the head of the Norberry family, and Gripe, the colonel, my brother, and the clan belonging to his haughty wife, shall be dissap'pointed. Good night, Tim ; not a word about this matter until it is ail com plete ; above all, old Shue is not to hear it ; I know that a woman cannot keep a secret." Tim finished his glass of wine, und having stirred up the fire-wood in the grate, with a view to cast sufficient light about the apartment to enable his master to see the way tVbed, he withdrew by a narrow passage which led to the rear of the house, to take his repose in the stable loft.