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 L161— O-1096
 
 TIE OLD LEDGER, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 G. L. M. STRAUSS. 
 
 In raagnis voluisse, sat est. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 TINSLEY BROTHERS, 18, CATHERINE ST., STRAND. 
 18G5.
 
 JOHX OIITLPS AND SON. IM^INTF.RS.
 
 8^b 
 
 DEDICATED 
 
 MY BRETHREN 
 
 OF THE 
 
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 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
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 http://www.archive.org/details/oldledger01stra
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST YOLUME 
 
 BOOK I.— ON THE THEESHOLD. 
 
 WHICH GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGIN AND RISE 
 
 OP THE GREAT ELLESDEE FAMILY GENEALOGICAL, 
 
 CHRONOLOGICAL,, HISTORICAL, AND GENERALLY IN- 
 STRUCTIVE AND LEADS UP TO THE FIRST GLIMPSE 
 
 THE READER CATCHES OF THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. AN OLD HOUSE . . . . . . 1 
 
 II. A BRIEF SKETCH OF THE ELLESDEES IN 
 
 1826 .. .. .. 10 
 
 III. A NEW HOUSE. ARCHITECTURAL, ARCHAIO- 
 
 LOGICAL, AND ART-CRITICAL . . 75 
 
 IV. A HOUSE-WARMING . . . . 97
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 Y. ON THE WAY HOME. — IX WHICH THE 
 
 BANKER PROPOSES AND GOD DISPOSES 125 
 VI. HOME ! WHICH IS TAPESTRIED WITH BLACK 
 
 HANGINGS . . . . . . 148 
 
 BOOK II.— OVER THE THRESHOLD. 
 
 IN WHICH IS RELATED HOW SIR RICHARD ELLE3DEE, 
 WTIO ALWAYS HAD A WILL OP HIS OWN, HAS ALSO 
 LEFT A WILL OP HIS OWN ; AND THE READER IS 
 PERMITTED A PEEP INSIDE THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 I. THE READING OF THE WILL . . 207 
 
 II. HOW OUR FOREFATHERS STARTED IN BUSI- 
 NESS (occasionally) . . . . 268 
 
 BOOK III.— TA]SrDE:\I IX MEDIAS EES. 
 
 IN WHICH A NEW ELEMENT IS INTRODUCED INTO THE 
 STORY — AND AN ACCOUNT GIVEN OF THE FITZGERALD 
 FAMILY. 
 
 I. IN WHICH SIR RICHARD ELLESDEE IS SEEN 
 ON HIS WAY TO WOODBINE COTTAGE, 
 ON A CONGRATULATORY VISIT . . 281
 
 BOOK L 
 
 ON THE THRESHOLD. 
 
 WHICH GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGIN AND RISE OF THE 
 GREAT ELLESDEE FAMILY — GENEALOGICAL, CHRONOLOGICAL, 
 HISTORICAL, AND GENERALLY INSTRUCTIVE — AND LEADS UP 
 TO THE FIRST GLIMPSE THE READER CATCHES OF THE OLD 
 LEDGER.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 AN OLD HOUSE. 
 
 The house of Ellesdee and Co. ranks 
 among the oldest banking establishments in 
 London. In fact, it might almost safely 
 be asserted that it is the oldest^ as its found- 
 ation dates back as far as the year 1608, 
 whereas Child and Co., who are generally 
 considered the most ancient firm, date only 
 from 1640. 
 
 It was in the year of Grace 1608 that 
 Master Richard Ellesdee, of the Worshipful 
 Company of Goldsmiths, first began to 
 carry on the business of a money-scrivener
 
 2 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 and pawnlDroker, under tlic sign of the 
 Golden Balance* 
 
 Though Master Eicliard Ellesdee's 
 ancestors might undoubtedly have come 
 over to England with William the Norman, 
 or with the Danes, or with Hengist and 
 Horsa, or with the Romans, or might even 
 have been numbered among the most 
 ancient of ancient Britons, for aught that 
 could have been proved to the contrary, 
 yet the genealogical tree of the worthy 
 goldsmith and scrivener had no ver}^ deep 
 roots to show, his hioivn ancestry dating 
 back only two generations. The trutli of 
 
 * The terms "Bank" and "Banker" were not 
 uaed then in England ; they were introduced at a 
 later period. In the Middle Ages the money trade 
 was carried on principally iii Italy. It was a much 
 more complicated and difficult business at that time 
 than it is now-a-days, owing to the multiplicity of coins 
 then current, and to the habit of the princes and lords 
 of the ])eriod to lower the standard of the productions 
 of their mints. The money-dealers in Italy used to 
 sit in the public places, on benches (banchi), which 
 enabled them to sound the golden and silver pieces, to 
 see whether they had the true ring. This led to the 
 name " Bauchieri " being given them.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 6 
 
 the matter was, a sad accident had befallen 
 the first ostensible founder of the family at 
 a most early period of his life. 
 
 It was in the beginning of the year 
 1485, when Richard III., the greatest of 
 the glorious house of York, was King — 
 (Bosworth field remaining as yet unfought, 
 where the noble eao;le of York was doomed 
 to succumb to the base Kite of Tudor) — 
 that a new-born male infant was found 
 deposited one morning at the park gate of 
 Ellesdee Manor, near Sheffield, the seat of 
 the Baron Busli-Bellisle. The infant was a 
 remarkably [fine and healthy specimen of 
 the genus homo^ and one of which its parents 
 might reasonably have been proud. The 
 fact of its being thus abandoned would 
 therefore seem to argue that its mother had 
 loved ^^not wisely but too well,'' and, 
 clearly being of a modest and retiring dis- 
 position, had wished to avoid receiving the 
 congratulations of her family and friends 
 upon the interesting result of her amorous 
 dalliance. The paternity of the young
 
 4 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 citizen of the world was by the vox populi 
 imputed to the noble lord of the manor, 
 who, however, strenuously denied the soft 
 impeachment. Now, as these were times 
 when bastardy was held by no means a 
 disgrace, and the jus primce metis and 
 other delightful feudal privileges existed 
 still in some parts of Europe de jure^ and 
 in most others at least de facto^ and as the 
 stalwart Baron had never before sho\\^i any 
 disinclination to be held and considered, 
 like the King of Yvetot, the father of his 
 vassals in the most natural sense of the 
 word, and was indeed rather proud than 
 otherwise of the avowed paternity of a score 
 or so of bastards on his estate, the candid his- 
 torian sees no reason to doubt the truth of 
 the Baron's disclaimer, and it may therefore 
 be taken for granted that the voice of the 
 people was wrong in this instance, as, in- 
 deed, it very often happens to be, and that 
 whatever noble or gentle blood might flow 
 in the foundling's veins, it certainly was not 
 that of Bellislc. However, though the Baron
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 5 
 
 repudiated the paternity of the child, he 
 yet nobly and generously took pity on the 
 poor abandoned infant. He entrusted the 
 foundling to the maternal care of his chief 
 huntsman's wife, who had just presented 
 her liege lord with a little daughter. He 
 had the boy christened Richard, after the 
 King then on the throne of England, and, 
 as he had been found on his esjtate, he 
 gave him the name of EUesdee for pa- 
 tronymic. 
 
 Young Richard Ellesdee grew up apace, 
 and throve wonderfully well. At the age of 
 14 he was a tall, well-knit youth, of remark- 
 ably prepossessing appearance. The Ba- 
 ron Bellisle, who from being originally one 
 of the staun chest Yorkists had long since 
 rallied to the new order of things, and was 
 in the very highest favour with Henry VII., 
 took young Richard with him to Court 
 as his page. Heaven knows wliat high 
 fortune might have been in store for the 
 foundling but for the sudden death of his 
 noble patron, which sad event occurred
 
 6 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 about three months after, and left him 
 again thrown upon the world as orphaned 
 and apparently as friendless as he had 
 been at his birth. 
 
 In the service of his lamented lord he 
 had occasionally been sent to Sheffield, to 
 Master Jonas Naylor, one of the most re- 
 nowned armourers of the period, who had 
 taken a fancy to the handsome lad, and had 
 more than once hinted that he should like 
 to have him for apprentice, and teach him 
 his noble craft. To this worthy armourer, 
 then, young Eichard resolved to apply in 
 his bereavement. 
 
 He found himself received with open 
 arms, and treated with such true kindness 
 that, with the light-heartedness of youth, he 
 soon gave over grieving for the loss of his 
 departed patron, and applied himself dili- 
 gently to the craft of his new master and 
 protector — so diligently and successfull}^ in- 
 deed that when the seven years of liis ap- 
 prenticeship were over, there was not to 
 be found in Sheffield, and consequently in
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. ' 7 
 
 the whole world, a more skilled armourer 
 and cutler than Richard Ellesdee, — nor a 
 more handsome youth ; at least, so thought 
 Miss Alice Pease, the only daughter of 
 another eminent Sheffield armourer, with 
 whom the young man had fallen madly in 
 love, and who, like a true-hearted English 
 girl, returned his affection with two-fold 
 warmth. 
 
 But old Master Pease, as misfortune 
 would have it, was immensely indignant 
 at the impudence of the " base-born brat/' 
 as he contemptuously called poor Hichard, 
 who dared lift his eyes up to the only 
 daughter and heiress of one of the wealth- 
 iest and most honourahhj descended burghers 
 of Sheffield. And as the '' Pearl of Hallam- 
 shire " — for such was the proud distinction 
 universally bestowed uj^on lovely Miss 
 Alice, by the male part of the population, 
 of course — declined resigning her affections 
 at her father's stern command, and taking 
 unto her a husband of that worthy citizen's 
 own choice, a widower of mature years,
 
 8 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 and ][)ursy in every sense of tlie word, the 
 old gentleman, a parent absolute after the 
 true ancient pattern, sent her to a convent 
 to contract a purely spiritual matrimonial 
 alliance with Heaven, which may occa- 
 sionally suit well enough disappointed old 
 spinsters, but is not exactly the thing for 
 blooming and loving young maidens. 
 
 What wonder, then, tliat poor Alice 
 should prefer to the mockery of the spirit- 
 ual embrace of a heavenly bridegroom — 
 the wretched invention of an age when 
 the stupidity of mankind was greater even 
 than it is at present — the cold but quiet- 
 ing embrace of death, and to the narrow 
 prison of tlie Convent walls, the still nar- 
 rower, but how much more consoling, prison 
 of the tomb ! 
 
 When she was dead and gone, her stern 
 parent, like Lord Ullin, howled dismally, 
 '^ My daughter, oh, my daughter!" and 
 cursed his fate, as men are apt to do 
 when the consequences of their own folly 
 come home to them. He then souuht con-
 
 THE OLB LEDGEE. 9 
 
 solation in sack, and, what with grief, what 
 with the consoler, a brief twelvemonth 
 sufficed to send him after his lost jewel. 
 
 Poor Richard Ellesdee did not die of 
 his grief, but he never forgot his Alice ; 
 and it was only at the age of 40, two years 
 after Jonas Naylor's death, that he was 
 induced to marry his master's young widow 
 (the third wife of the worthy citizen), who, 
 strange enough, happened to be a fatherless 
 and motherless orphan like himself. He 
 loyally declared to her that he could not 
 give her his heart, which lay buried in 
 Alice Pease's grave. But as, after all, it 
 must be so much easier to ' ' dream the 
 heart" than '^ the rest," as Pope elegantly 
 expresses it, the good lady contentedly ac- 
 quiesced in the division. She had no occa- 
 sion to rue it. Her life with Richard Elles- 
 dee was happy beyond the common run, 
 and for twelve years consecutively she saw 
 a succession of magnificent olive branches 
 sprouting and rising around her and the 
 lord of her choice.
 
 10 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 The first-bom of the dozen was a boy, 
 named Eichard, after his father. He was 
 born in 1526. 
 
 When he was grown to the age of 14, 
 his father wished him to become, like 
 himself, an artificer in the noblest of all 
 metals, but allured by the false glitter 
 of the w^iite and yellow dross, the boy 
 preferred learning the trade of a gold and 
 silversmith. After some little reluctance 
 Master Richard Ellesdee gave way, and 
 consented to his eldest-born's wishes. 
 
 He bound him apprentice to Master 
 Josiah Wotton, one of the most famous 
 artificers in gold and silver of the period. 
 
 As the second son, named Jonas, after 
 the late Master Naylor, took to the father's 
 craft, and took kindly to it, Master Rich- 
 ard Ellesdee got speedily over the disap- 
 pointment caused him by his eldest son's 
 choice. 
 
 Young Richard brought all his fathers 
 skill and industry to the trade chosen by 
 him. His master's shop soon became
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 11 
 
 more famous than ever for the graceful 
 elegance of the articles made in it, princi- 
 pally by the young apprentice. 
 
 The young man v/as of a roving dis- 
 position ; so, as soon as he was out of his 
 time, he bade farewell to his father and 
 mother, and brothers and sisters, to his 
 master, and to all his friends and acquaint- 
 ances, and went to London. 
 
 After a few years' stay in the metro- 
 polis of England, where he perfected him- 
 self in his craft, so far as the then inferior 
 standard of British workmanship in the 
 precious metals would admit, he went over 
 to Flanders, thence to Holland, afterwards 
 to France, and finally to Italy, where he 
 had the good fortune to be admitted into 
 the workshop of the famous Giacomo 
 Brunelleschi, the great grandson of the 
 renowned architect, and the friend and 
 pupil of Benvenuto Cellini. 
 
 Here he remained ^ve years, as Bru- 
 nelleschi's favourite assistant. The com- 
 bination of English solidity with Italian
 
 12 THE OLD LEDGEPw. 
 
 grace, wlilcli cliaracterized tho productions 
 of his hand, soon gained for them a world- 
 wide reputation. Some of his goblets 
 commanded almost as high prices as those 
 of the great master of the craft, the im- 
 mortal Cellini himself. The Emperor 
 Charles V. and King Henry II. of France 
 made him the most brilliant offers to come 
 and settle in their dominions. 
 
 Whilst he was still hesitating between 
 France and Germany, the news of his 
 father's death recalled him to England, 
 whither he returned after an absence of 
 eight years, at the age of 31, in the year 
 1557. 
 
 Before he reached the place of his 
 birth, his mother had succumbed to her 
 grief, and had followed her lamented hus- 
 band to the grave. 
 
 The fortune left by the late Master 
 Armourer turned out less than had been 
 expected. The maintenance and education 
 of a numerous family, and a rather over- 
 free indulgence in the true old British
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 13 
 
 hospitality of the period, had adversely 
 told upon it. The young goldsmith, who 
 had gathered gear in his travels and labours 
 abroad, and indeed was worth about 8000 
 marks, a considerable sum for the period, 
 not only generously renounced his share 
 in the inheritance, but nobly added to it 
 3000 marks of his own, nearly half his 
 fortune, to be shared among his younger 
 brothers and sisters.* 
 
 Queen Mary, the only true lady of the 
 
 * It may be as well to state in this place at once 
 that these other branches of the armourer's family, 
 after flourishing for a time, would seem to have grad- 
 ually dropped out of the world's records. Despite the 
 most patient and diligent research, I have failed in 
 tracing any of their descendants beyond the year 1651, 
 when the last of them, Sir Jonathan Ellesdee, Knt. 
 Banneret, was slain by a stout Cromwellian, in the 
 battle of "Worcester, — and served him right, for 
 fighting on the wrong side. He left no issue, and 
 there is hardly a doubt left on my mind but that he 
 was, on the morning of the battle, the last surviving 
 descendant of any of the puisne branches of the El- 
 lesdees of Shefiield. Of course, I write under cor- 
 rection, and I am quite willing to acknowledge with 
 becomiug gratitude any better information upon the 
 subject.
 
 14 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 house of Tudor, and, if an Irish bull be 
 permissible, the only gentleman, too, of 
 that wretched race, heard of this noble 
 conduct. Contrary to the old proverb, 
 that a prophet is not without honour but 
 in his own country, the fame of the 
 artificer to whom ability was given to 
 compete with the Brunelleschis and 
 Cellinis, had actually spread to England. 
 The Queen, who truly had the glory of 
 her country at heart, commanded Master 
 liichard Ellesdee to settle in London, and 
 promised to appoint him goldsmith to the 
 Court. 
 
 Master Richard Ellesdee willingly 
 obeyed his ! sovereign's gracious com- 
 mands. But before his appointment as 
 goldsmith and jeweller to the Court of 
 England was duly made out, Queen Mary 
 died. The mere fact of the favom^ shown 
 and intended to him by the deceased 
 monarch was, of course, sufficient to de- 
 prive him beforehand of the good graces 
 of her successor, the worst of the Tudors,
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 15 
 
 and, of course, the one most favoured by- 
 fortune — more deorum. 
 
 The young goldsmith troubled his 
 mind, however, very little about the 
 Court appointment he had thus lost. He 
 established his business in London, and 
 joined the Worshipful Company of Gold- 
 smiths in the year 1558. 
 
 Two years after, in 1560, he married 
 Elizabeth, daughter of Master Jonathan 
 Child, the then warden of the Guild, who 
 brought her husband a dower of 10,000 
 marks. 
 
 In 1562, Mistress Ellesdee died in 
 giving birth to a male child. 
 
 The bereaved husband deeply mourned 
 the loss of the beloved departed, and 
 vowed that he would never marry again. 
 He kept his vow, and gave all the rich 
 treasures of his affection to his son, named 
 Eichard, after himself and his ovm father. 
 The boy was sickly at first, and apparent- 
 ly of weak constitution, which only served 
 to make his father the more tender and
 
 16 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 solicitous about him. As he grew up lie 
 sncew strono^er, and at 18 he was as fine 
 and healthy a lad as one could wish to 
 see. 
 
 He learnt his father's craft. But great 
 special natural gifts rarely run through 
 generations. Young Richard made a most 
 excellent son and a very worthy member 
 of society in every respect, but a rather 
 indifi'erent artificer in the precious metals. 
 Do what he would, the greatest and most 
 laboured efforts of his hands looked but 
 clumsy by the side of the more finished 
 and graceful productions of others; ay, 
 even of those w^ho could only claim to 
 rank as second-rate workmen. 
 
 His father, devotedly attached to his 
 art, and affectionately blind to the total lack 
 of all artistic conception and feeling in his 
 son, imagined that a tour on tlie Continent 
 and a prolonged visit to the most renowned 
 workshops of Germany, France, and Italy, 
 would do the same for his dear boy as he, yj 
 in his modesty, believed it had formerly
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 17 
 
 done for him. So, furnished with ample 
 introductions, and with the means befitting 
 the only son and heir of a wealthy London 
 goldsmith, young Ellesdee set out on his 
 grand tour. 
 
 He staid away five years from Eng- 
 land. He did his best, and tried hard, 
 poor fellow. But as far as the acquisition 
 of artistic skill in his craft was concerned, 
 he had simply gone forth, as the old pro- 
 verb hath it, a gosling, and came back a 
 gander, to the great grief of the old man, 
 who had so fondly hoped that lie should 
 yet live to see his son continue and even 
 exalt the glories of the name of the Eng- 
 lish Cellini. 
 
 A few years after, in 1598, the old man 
 died, at the age of 72. He left his son a 
 most flourishing business and a fortune 
 amounting to near 50,000 marks. 
 
 For ten long years the heir and suc- 
 cessor of the great goldsmith struggled on 
 in an uncongenial pursuit. Then finding 
 that his business, with the exception of 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 18 THE OLD LEDGEK. 
 
 the plate and foreign coins' exchanging 
 branch, instead of improving, went more 
 and more back, he resolved at last to ex- 
 change it for another for which he thought 
 he possessed greater qualifications. 
 
 It was in the year 1608, as has been 
 stated already at the beginning of this 
 chapter, that Master Richard Ellesdee, of 
 the Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths, 
 first began to carry on the new business of 
 a money scrivener and pawnbroker, under 
 the style and firm simply of Richard Elles- 
 dee, and under the sign of the Golden 
 Balance. 
 
 He could not have acted more wisely. 
 The founder of what was in due course of 
 time to occupy the foremost position among 
 the proudest banking houses of England, 
 was endowed with a happy combination of 
 the rarest qualities for iiis new pm*suit : — 
 prudence, foresight, sound judgment, and 
 prompt decision, a ready comprehension of 
 and acute insie^ht into commercial afiairs 
 and transactions, and the most uncom-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 19 
 
 promising sense of honour, and most in- 
 flexible integrity of principle. 
 
 In 1597, a few years after his return to 
 England from his bootless visit to the 
 Continental gold workshops, and one year 
 before his father's death, he had married 
 Anna Maria, only daughter and heiress of 
 Eichard Walton, one of the most famous 
 lapidaries and jewel merchants of the 
 period. 
 
 By her he had issue, Anna Maria, born 
 1605, died 1622, and Richard, born 1607. 
 
 The early death of his sister left the 
 latter at his father's demise, in 1642, sole 
 inheritor of the united Ellesdee and Wal- 
 ton fortunes, his mother. Mistress Anna 
 Maria Walton Ellesdee, having died a few 
 years before, in 1639. 
 
 This Richard Ellesdee possessed all his 
 father's qualities, even in a higher degree. 
 He was successful in all his operations, and 
 under his able and energetic guidance the 
 house gained a solidity and extent that 
 placed it speedily in the foremost rank of the
 
 20 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 gi^eat banking establisliments of England. 
 So solidly, indeed, were the foundations of 
 tlie house laid, that at the memorable time, 
 about 1679, when that crowned ■ bandit, 
 Charles II., the worse son of a bad father, 
 came down upon the money-bags of the 
 London bankers, which compelled most of 
 them to suspend their payments, the house 
 of Ellesdee was among the very few who 
 could weather the storm without a tempo- 
 rary suspension. 
 
 He died in 1698, at the advanced age 
 of 91 years, in the full possession of all his 
 faculties ; up to a very few days before his 
 death, he kept his position as sole head and 
 manager of the firm, and performed all the 
 arduous duties of that position with almost 
 the same vigom- as he had done at the age 
 of 40. 
 
 He had married rather late in life, in 
 1657, Miss Julia Sharpe, a daughter of 
 one of the leading London pawnbrokers. 
 By a strange fatality, it seemed as if the 
 great fecmidity of the first mistress Richard
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 21 
 
 Ellesdee had exercised a most unfavour- 
 able reaction upon the future ladies of that 
 name and ilk. At all events, this lady 
 bore her husband only one son, in 1663, 
 who of course received the now firmly 
 established Christian name of the first-born 
 of the family, Eichard. She survived her 
 husband only two years. 
 
 At the death of his father, the heir and 
 successor to the business was accordingly 
 only 35 years old. He followed in the 
 foot-steps of his two predecessors, and pros- 
 pered exceedingly. 
 
 Clearly discerning from the beginning 
 the futility of the attempts of the house of 
 Stuart to reconquer the lost throne of Eng- 
 land, he firmly, honestly, and warmly 
 espoused the interests of the new dynasty, 
 to whom he rendered most valuable ser- 
 vices on several occasions. 
 
 In acknowledgment of these services. 
 King George II. created him a Baronet, in 
 the year 1745, an honour which hugely 
 delighted the old man (he was then 82).
 
 22 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 He had a few years before purcliased the 
 great Ellesdee estate on which the first 
 founder of the family had been born. 
 Prosperous in every other respect, the same 
 strange fatality which has already been 
 alluded to, pursued Mm also in his married 
 life. He had taken to wife early in life, in 
 1685, a Miss Glyn, who remained childless. 
 One year after her death, which occurred 
 in 1717, he married again. His second 
 wife, a dauo'hter of General Sir John Dal- 
 rymple, presented him, after two years' 
 marriage, with a son, and then left off 
 childbearing, as all her predecessors in 
 the female Ellesdee line, except the first 
 matron of the name, had done before her. 
 
 When the old man was created a Baron- 
 et, he resolved to enjoy his new dignity in 
 the retirement of country life at Ellesdee 
 Manor, and handed over the banking busi- 
 ness to the management of his young son, 
 at the time only 25 years old. 
 
 The old Baronet, or rather the new 
 Baronet, somehow managed to add another
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 23 
 
 16 years to his long life — the EUesdees 
 continue to the present day a long-lived 
 family, — and died at last, nigh a hundred 
 years old, in the year 1761. 
 
 At the time when' the second Baronet 
 succeeded his late father he remained still 
 unmarried, though he had reached the age 
 of 41. This had come to pass simply this 
 way: About nine years before, he had 
 fallen in love with a young girl of 17, of 
 rare beauty, but, ^unfortunately, of most 
 humble origin — the illegitimate step-daugh- 
 ter, in fact, of a poor shoemaker. 
 
 In the pride of his]new rank. Sir Rich- 
 ard EUesdee had chosen to forget the 
 slightly doubtful origin of his own family, 
 and had sternly forbidden his son to dream 
 of contracting so shameful an alliance ; and 
 with the obstinacy of old age he had to 
 the last day of his life refused to listen to 
 his son's entreaties to give his consent to 
 the proposed marriage. The life of the 
 Ellesdee family had from the beginning 
 been of a truly patriarchal character, and
 
 24 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 the will of the head of the house had 
 always been held law. So poor Richard 
 had obeyed his father, who, on his part, 
 had refrained from urging another, un- 
 congenial alliance ujion his son. In his 
 last moments the stern father relented, — 
 perhaps that the cold finger of approach- 
 ing death wiped off from his inner vision 
 the darkening cobweb of a wretched pride ; 
 l^erhaps that he felt that he had done quite 
 harm enough to his son by standing for 
 nine long years between him and happi- 
 ness, and that it would be rather an over- 
 long stretch of parental authority to stretch 
 it beyond the grave — enough, he almost 
 with his last breath sanctioned his son's 
 union with his chosen bride, which was 
 accordingly duly celebrated one year after 
 the old man's decease. 
 
 The new Sir Richard Ellesdee was 
 supremely happy in the possession of his 
 beloved treasure, so long coveted, and now 
 at last secured. But, as there is always a 
 drop of bitterness in the sweetest cup of
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 25 
 
 mortals, so also here. Lady EUesdee l3ore 
 lier husband only two daughters, the first 
 in 1763, the second in 1770. The first 
 died at the tender age of six months ; the 
 second-born was christened Maria Theresa, 
 after the Empress Queen of Germany and 
 Hungary, to whom Sir Richard had ren- 
 dered considerable service in the way of 
 loans in times of difficulty, and who would 
 gladly have made the banker a Count of the 
 Holy Roman Empire, but that the sturdy 
 Englishman declined to accept what he 
 most probably thought a doubtful honour. 
 
 The gracious sovereign, however, wish- 
 inof to show in a marked manner the high 
 estimation in which she was pleased to 
 hold Sir Richard, deigned to offer herself 
 as god-mother to the banlier's second 
 daughter, thus conquering even her na- 
 turally very strong prejudice against the 
 family's Protestantism ; she sent the Prin- 
 cess of Khevenhtiller-Metsch over to Lon- 
 don to act as her proxy at the ceremony. 
 So it came to pass that the infant of a
 
 26 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 poor laundry-girl's illegitimate daughter — 
 the child of one bom in what the world's 
 cant calls shame ^ and reared in the dirt and 
 dearth of a cobbler's cot — was held over 
 the baptismal font by a high-bom lady of 
 sixteen quarterings, and had an Empress 
 and Queen of the proudest house in Europe 
 for her godmother! It is a queer world 
 we live in, my masters ! 
 
 Disappointed in his most ardent wish 
 to have a son to whom to transmit his 
 name and the glorious traditions of the 
 house, Sir Richard sought and found con- 
 solation in the affectionate love of his wife, 
 and in watching, with fond pride, the 
 growing charms of his young daughter; 
 and he devoted himself with redoubled 
 vigour to the pursuit of what might now 
 surely almost be held the Ellesdees' here- 
 ditary business — money-making. But be- 
 hold ! the fates at last relented, and the 
 indispensable boy Richard was kindl}^ 
 ushered into the world by his delighted 
 mamma, in the year 1776.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 27 
 
 Poor Lady Ellesdee did not long sur- 
 vive the joyful event. She died three 
 brief months after the birth of her darling- 
 boy, happy and resigned, however, and 
 with the proud consciousness that she had 
 now fully done her duty in the station to 
 which it had pleased the Lord to call her. 
 
 Sir Kichard lived, and worked, and 
 spun money 29 years longer. He died at 
 last, full of years and honours, and after an 
 almost unexampled career of unbroken 
 success in all his business undertakings, 
 in the year 1806, on the same day which 
 deprived England of her great Minister. 
 And, curious to relate, the considerably 
 more than octogenarian attributed his 
 premature decease chiefly to the self-same 
 cause which destroyed the statesman — the 
 overthrow of the Austro-Eussian Coalition 
 on the field of Austerlitz. Nor need the 
 assertion be held quite so absurd as it at 
 first sight may aj)pear to be. The man 
 surely might have felt acutely the fearful 
 blow that had fallen on the house whose
 
 28 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 brightest ornament had been his (laughter's 
 godmother; and the hanlcer might have 
 got slightly apprehensive' about the safety 
 of the last Austrian Loan contracted for 
 by him. Enough ! he cursed Bonaparte, 
 and died. Here, however, the parallel 
 between him and the great statesman 
 ceases — the Banker dying worth some 
 fourteen or fifteen j)lums^ as the phrase 
 goes in the jargon of the money mart ; the 
 Minister, some forty thousand pounds 
 poorer than penniless. I do not pretend 
 to decide which of the two, after all, liad 
 chosen the better part. 
 
 The third Baronet was just 30 when 
 he succeeded to the title and fortune 
 of his father. He was a man of great 
 natural gifts and rare attainments, and of 
 most refined tastes, slightly modified by 
 a strong foible for ^^ antiquities," which his 
 great wealth enabled him to indulge to his 
 heart's content. 
 
 He had married, at the age of 19, Elli- 
 nor, daughter of Sir William Davenant, a
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 29 
 
 Yorkshire Baronet, and one of the largest 
 landed proprietors in the counties of York 
 and Lancaster, who brought her husband 
 a dower of no less than £300,000 — upon 
 the curious principle, no doubt, of a kind of 
 molecular attraction and cumulation, which 
 would seem to be inherent in money-bags. 
 
 Sir William Davenant died two years 
 after his daughter's marriage, and one 
 year after the birth of a grandson, who of 
 course, being the eldest born, was called 
 Richard, as all his ancestors had been 
 before him. 
 
 The deceased Baronet left his vast 
 estates and immense funded property to 
 his son William, young Mrs Elles dee's 
 only brother, who, with a truly Pyrrhian 
 insatiability, eager to add a few more 
 nuggets to his already almost bound- 
 less wealth, intimated a wish to his 
 brother-in-law to embark about half-a-mil- 
 lion in the bank. After some little reluct- 
 ance, old Sir Richard was induced by his 
 son's representations to admit Sir William
 
 30 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 as a sleeping partner in the house, but 
 with the distinct understanding that the 
 mana2:ement of all affairs was to be left 
 entirely and exclusively in his own and 
 in his son's hands, as before the partner- 
 ship. The name of the firm only was 
 changed from Richard EUesdee to Ellesdee 
 and Co. 
 
 About two years after the death of Mrs 
 Ellesdee' s father, a most untoward event 
 occurred, which it is impossible to pass 
 over here without brief allusion, as it had 
 well nigh terminated prematurely the 
 career of the hero of thi^ story, which 
 would of course have brought our tale to 
 an end before its actual commencement. 
 
 At the time stated, Mrs Ellesdee went on 
 a visit to Davenant Hall, one of her brothers 
 seats, near Liverpool; she took her little 
 boy with her, under the care of his nurse. 
 On a pleasure trip down the Mersey, the 
 boat with Mrs Ellesdee, the little boy and 
 the nurse, and nine other persons on 
 board, having gone out too far seaward.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 31 
 
 was caught in a sudden squall and up- 
 set, with the loss of all on board, except 
 the little boy, whose light, buoyant form, 
 carried away swiftly out to sea, was 
 picked up, and rescued from a watery 
 grave, only just in time, by one of the 
 crew of an American vessel coming into 
 harbour. The Liverpool newspapers the 
 day after contained marvellous accounts 
 of the "providential" escape of the heir 
 of Ellesdee, seemingly inferring thereby 
 that the other eleven unfortunate human 
 beings had been "providentially" drown- 
 ed. Mr Ellesdee sincerely mom-ned the 
 loss of his wife. However, as he was still 
 a very young man, and felt also that a 
 child of liis son's tender age required a 
 mother's care, he yielded a ready consent to 
 his father's wish that he should marry 
 again, and contracted accordingly, about 
 18 months after the death of his first 
 wife, a second matrimonial alliance, with 
 Miss Louise Adrienne van Hope-Capcllen, 
 a daughter of the Baron van der Capellcn,
 
 32 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 formerly Rear- Admiral in the Dutch Ser- 
 vice, but at the time living in exile in 
 England. On the mother's side the lady 
 was descended from the great House of 
 the Hopes of Amsterdam, an old Scotch 
 family (the Hopes of Craig Hall), long 
 settled in Holland. She was exceedingly 
 beautiful. Her husband loved her most 
 passionately. Unhappily she was of very 
 delicate constitution. 
 
 In the sixth year of her man-iage, two 
 months after her father-in-law's death, she 
 gave birth to a son, who was christened 
 Adrian Richard Louis. 
 
 A few months after the birth of the 
 child, the mother's state of health became 
 so critical, that Dr Pennington and Dr 
 Parker, her medical attendants, having 
 exhausted all the resources of their art^ 
 found themselves driven to the faculty's 
 last loop-hole in desperate cases of slow 
 decay — they advised change of climate, 
 and insisted also that the mother should 
 give up suckling the child.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 33 
 
 As it SO liappened that Dr Parker had 
 been a fellow-student of the great Aber- 
 nethy, he suggested a consultation with 
 the illustrious surgeon. Abernethy, the 
 greatest medical mocker of the age, with 
 a keen insight into the helpless and hope- 
 less hollo^vness of the so-called ai^s medcmU^ 
 had a shrewd suspicion that the poor lady 
 had simply hQQYLjjhj sicked so near the grave. 
 He therefore joined unhesitatingly in the 
 advice of a change of climate, but, strange 
 enough, from London to Amsterdam, in- 
 stead of Madeira ; for, as he philosophically 
 observed, if the patient was to live, she 
 would probably live there as well as any- 
 where else, and if she was to die, she 
 would die all the more comfortably in the 
 city of her birth and in the midst of ]ier 
 relations. He told the patient also that 
 she might continue to suckle her child, 
 and prescribed a most nourishing and 
 generous diet, which made the two phy- 
 sicians in ordinary stand aghast and look 
 quite blue. Contrary to his rule never to
 
 34 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 meddle witli the dispensing branch, he 
 made up for her a large box of pills, and 
 two hundred powders, which he gave her, 
 with proper directions how to take them. 
 He enjoined her most strictly — to con- 
 sult no physician in Amsterdam. 
 
 The great man had seen and judged 
 aright. The pills being simply liquorice, 
 the powders only sugar, and death's chief 
 purveyors being thus kept from the doors, 
 the change of climate answered beyond all 
 expectation. 
 
 Lady Ellesdee in about six months al- 
 most completely recovered her health, 
 though 'she remained still delicate. She 
 might, however, safely have gone back to 
 London now. But, whether she really 
 believed that it was the beautiful climate 
 of the land of dikes and ditches to which she 
 was indebted for her recovery, or whether 
 she dreaded lest her return to England 
 should throw her back into the clutches of 
 Parker and Pennington, she entreated Sir 
 Richard, who liad come over to fetch her
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 35 
 
 back, that he would j)ermit her to stay in 
 Amsterdam until she should feel herself 
 sufficiently strong to try London or York- 
 shire again. Sir Eichard loved his wife with 
 such warm and self-denying affection that 
 he at once consented to her wish, though 
 he must have felt acutely the sacrifice of 
 much domestic comfort and married bliss, 
 and still more acutely, perhaps, the tem- 
 porary sacrifice, at least, of the brightest 
 dream of his ambition. 
 
 It has been observed already that Sir 
 Eichard was a man of great natural gifts 
 and rare attainments. At this period of 
 his life he was just on the point of enter- 
 ing parliament, where, with his great 
 wealth, his vast and varied store of knoAV- 
 ledge, his urbane and winning manners, 
 his logical mind and great oratorical 
 powers, he might well see a most brilliant 
 career before him. 
 
 He resigned this without a mm'mur, 
 and made his arrangements to pass the 
 greater part of his time with his wife in
 
 36 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Amsterdam. He induced his sister, Miss 
 Maria Theresa Ellesdee, who remained 
 unmarried, to preside over his London 
 household, in the place of his wife. 
 
 This life lasted al)out twelve years, as 
 Lady Ellesdee somehow never felt herself 
 sufficiently strong to go hack to England. 
 In the year 1820 she died suddenly, from 
 the bursting of a blood-vessel. Her hus- 
 band, broken-hearted, returned perma- 
 nently to London, taking with him the 
 mortal remains of her who had been all in 
 all to him, that he might entomb them in 
 Ellesdee Park, in the mausoleum erected 
 by his grandfather. 
 
 He took back with him also his second 
 son, Louis, who had hardly ever yet left 
 his mother's side, and had been over-much 
 indulged by that fond parent. Indeed, 
 there was no denying the fact, the poor 
 boy had been permitted to cultivate a 
 most extensive crop of weeds, which threat- 
 ened to overgrow and destroy in time the 
 rich liar vest promised by the good grain
 
 THE OLD LEDGER, 87 
 
 of a most excellent natural disposition. 
 The father had indeed seen this for some 
 time past, and had proposed that the boy 
 should be sent to a public school; but 
 Lady Ellesdee had expressed the most 
 poignant grief at the threat of a separation 
 from her darling, and the affection which 
 her husband bore his wife had grown at 
 last so truly uxorious and all-absorbing, 
 that he always gave way to her wishes 
 and prayers, however so unreasonable they 
 might be. So the boy had been left with 
 his mother. 
 
 Now, after the mother's death. Sir 
 Richard resolved to send him to Eton, 
 correctly judging that there is nothing so 
 likely to take the nonsense out of a spoilt 
 darling than the rubs of a public scliool. 
 Besides, he was himself an old Etonian. 
 
 The banker's elder son, Richard, the 
 hero of the present story, as has been in- 
 timated before, was 24 years old at the 
 time of his step-mother's death. He had 
 already for more than three years past had
 
 38 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 entrusted to liim a considerable share in 
 the management of the affairs of the house ; 
 and, indeed, after the sad event, the entire 
 burthen rested on his shoulders, as over- 
 whelming grief for a time altogether un- 
 fitted his father for business. 
 
 And so well did he acquit himself of 
 the task imposed upon him, that Sir Rich- 
 ard, when he at last recovered from the 
 shock, and bethought him of his worldly 
 affairs, found everything in so satisfactory 
 a state, and in such excellent order, that 
 he willingly continued to leave the manage- 
 ment of the ^ bank almost entirely in his 
 son's hands ; the more so, as he had taken 
 up again the project of his earlier ambition. 
 
 In the year 1822, a few months after 
 Castlereagh's death, Sir Richard Ellesdee 
 was returned to the House of Commons, 
 not by one of the rotten boroughs of the 
 period, but by one of the largest com- 
 mercial constituencies in England. He 
 speedily earned considerable distinction 
 SiY\d influence in the House, and was looked
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 39 
 
 upon as one of the most promising mem- 
 bers of the more liberal section of the 
 party who supported the Liverpool-Can- 
 ning administration. 
 
 In 1826, at the time of the opening of 
 this story, he had already held two subor- 
 dinate offices in the Ministry, and Can- 
 ning had recently expressed to Lord Liver- 
 pool his intention, in the then not im- 
 probable event of Mr Eobinson's resigna- 
 tion, to propose that the Chancellorship 
 of the Exchequer be entrusted to Sir 
 Richard Ellesdee, who had submitted and 
 explained to him a most ingenious plan 
 of a thorough reform of the taxation of 
 the country, which would tend to relieve 
 trade, commerce, and industry from the 
 clumsy trammels imposed upon them by 
 the system then in force, and to develope 
 to an undreamed-of degree the resources 
 of the British Empire. 
 
 We have now at last arrived at the 
 threshold of our story. Before proceeding 
 farther, I beg leave to submit to the in-
 
 40 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 dulgent reader a brief exjilanatory observ- 
 ation. 
 
 I am quite aware that this introductory 
 chapter may seem open to the grave ob- 
 jection of lacking in interest for the 
 general reader. It is the fashion now-a- 
 days, in imaginative literature, to cultivate 
 more exclusively the purely emotional and 
 sensational, and to build up a tale out of a 
 series of thrilling incidents, succeeding 
 each other with startling rapidity, and 
 connected, or rather strung, together, by 
 the very feeblest links. A but too nu- 
 merous class of readers will have none of 
 those ^^ didactic preparations,'' as the great 
 Balzac calls them, which constitute the 
 indispensable groundwork of a solid story. 
 However, even at the risk of displeasing 
 this class, and bringing down upon my 
 humble efforts the punishment of an un- 
 precedented amount of skipping, I nmst 
 crave permission to go on in my own way, 
 and leave my vindication to the progress 
 of the story.
 
 41 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A BRIEF SKETCH OF THE ELLESDEES IN 1826. 
 
 
 
 At the time of the opening of the 
 events about to be narrated, in the year 
 1826, Sir Richard Ellesdee had attained 
 ]iis 50th year. He came of a handsome 
 race, and was a worthy representative of 
 it ; of tall stature, powerful build, square 
 deep chest, long sinewy limbs, and muscu- 
 lar arms, with a noble head, and a face to 
 match. Grief over his domestic bereave- 
 ments had, indeed, sprinkled his rich, dark 
 chestnut hair largely with grey, and graven 
 the indelible stamp of sorrow and suffering 
 in the deep furrows of his lofty expansive 
 brow, and his head was slightly bent; 
 but liis bright brown eyes, that ever looked
 
 42 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 their fullest and freest upon all around, his 
 finely cut nose (a happy medium between 
 the Greek and the Roman type), and his 
 truly classical mouth and chin, still shone 
 with all the lustre of their pristine beauty. 
 Yet there was about the lips and the lower 
 part of the face an expression of unyield- 
 ing sternness and unbending decision, 
 which it would have puzzled the most 
 experienced physiognomist to reconcile 
 with the all-yielding compliance this appar- 
 ently so stern man had ever shown toward 
 his second wife, except, perha2)s, upon 
 the principle that ^^love conquereth all 
 things," even nature. 
 
 As for the intellectual side, he had 
 cultivated his great natural gifts to such 
 good purpose that he justly enjoyed the 
 reputation of ranking among the foremost 
 of the many accomplished and erudite 
 scholars of the period. 
 
 In all his business transactions he dis- 
 played rare prudence and a cautious fore- 
 sight, which had, indeed, materially aided
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 43 
 
 the house in the weathermg of the great 
 storm that burst, in 1825, upon the finan- 
 cial and commercial world of London. 
 
 His one great foible was his fondness 
 for antiquities — old paintings, old carvings, 
 old books, old everythings. In his search- 
 ings after these he was most indefatigable, 
 and spared no expense to make them his 
 own when he had once succeeded in finding 
 them. He had thus become, at an expense, 
 indeed, of some four hundred thousand 
 pounds sterling, the happy possessor of some 
 of the rarest productions of the greatest 
 masters in all Arts ; also of a vast amount 
 of spurious rubbish. 
 
 In the matter of the gratification of his 
 taste in this direction there was only one 
 man who ever dared check Sir Richard by 
 disapprobation or remonstrance. This was 
 Mr Robert Wilson, the head cashier of tlie 
 house. 
 
 Robert Wilson, the son and grandson 
 of his two predecessors in the office of 
 head cashier, was of the same age with Sir
 
 44 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Eicliard, and liad been educated with him. 
 They were Ijoth at Eton together. United 
 in their l^oyhood by the ties of the sin- 
 cerest friendship, such friendship indeed as 
 only boys can feel for one another, they 
 ]iad, in after life, been comjDelled to give 
 way to the exigencies of their relative 
 position of employer and employed in so 
 far as to submit to the restraint of cold 
 conventionality in their intercourse. Sir 
 Ricliard always addressed his head cashier 
 most punctiliously, ^^ Mr Wilson," and the 
 latter, of course, always addressed the 
 banker, ^' Sir Richard." But the kernel 
 remained the same under this artificial 
 husk. 
 
 Now, Mr Robert Wilson was a man of 
 hard facts and dry figures, who lived en- 
 tirely in and with the present, and troubled 
 his mind but little about the productions 
 of the joast. Yet, strange to say. Sir Rich- 
 ard would almost always make it a point 
 to consult him upon any intended new 
 purchase for his collection.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 45 
 
 Whenever the cashier opined, as would 
 very often happen indeed, that the bank- 
 er was going a little too far in the indul- 
 gence of his antiquarian propensity, he 
 would boldly tell Sir Richard a ^^ bit of 
 his mind;" and the result would in such 
 cases mostly be a relinquishment^ however 
 so regretful, of the intended acquisition. 
 Thus, for instance, on one occasion, when 
 the antiquarian had hunted out a Sevres 
 soft porcelain dinner set for 24 persons, of 
 the date of 1755, — the time when the re- 
 nowned Sevres manufactory was first estab- 
 lished, — for which the small sum of £10,000 
 sterling was demanded by the lucky pos- 
 sessor, Mr Robert Wilson had boldly and 
 bluntly declared that the man who could 
 be induced to part with so much money 
 for a wretched set of '^ crockery" must be 
 a fool, and would deserve to come to grief. 
 AYell, Sir Richard had ominously con- 
 tracted his brows and bit his lips ; but he 
 had nevertheless abstained from purchas- 
 ing, simply hinting that, liad the set but
 
 46 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 been genuine hard Meissen or Franken- 
 thal, instead of soft imitation ware, lie 
 would have bought it despite a hundred 
 ^' ignorant, soulless objectors." 
 
 And, indeed, it would happen, though 
 exceptionally, that all remonstrances, ui-ged 
 however so bluntly by the cashier, would 
 fail to turn the banker from his settled pur- 
 pose. Thus, for instance, when 60 panels 
 of rare wood sculptures, attributed to the 
 renowned Huygens Lucas van Leyden, — 
 more generally known, perhaps, as one of 
 the masters of the Flemish school of paint- 
 ing in the early part of the 16th century, 
 and as having first introduced perspective 
 in copper-plate engraving, — were offered 
 to Sir Richard for the really moderate sum 
 of £12,000 sterling, Mr Wilson, who could 
 not see anything beyond the wood in these 
 choice specimens of an ancient art, exhaust- 
 ed every argument to dissuade the banker 
 from purchasing such '^ rubbish," and even 
 pointed out, as a supreme objection, the 
 '^ impiety" of the selection of Biblical sub-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 47 
 
 jects represented (of which hereafter) ; but 
 all in yain: Sir Richard '^ put his foot 
 down;" and whenever the banker did 
 put his foot down upon a resolution, even 
 Mr Robert Wilson knew that it was of no 
 earthly use to try to make him change. 
 So the panels were purchased ; they form- 
 ed one of the gems of the great Ellesdee 
 collection. 
 
 In one most important point there was 
 a remarkable concordance of opinion be- 
 tween the banker and his cashier ; they 
 were both advanced Unitarians in their 
 religious belief, Avith this difference, simply 
 that Sir Richard was all toleration, where- 
 as Mr Wilson, the descendant of an old 
 family of Independents, was awfully rigid 
 and dogmatic in his Unitarianism, and 
 much given to fierce denunciation of other 
 creeds ; the chief object of his wrath, next 
 to ^^ Her of Babylon" and the followers of 
 John Wesley, being the ^' Establishment." 
 Indeed, Sir Richard's secession from the 
 doctrines of the Church of England, in
 
 48 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 which he had been brought up, was attri- 
 butable, in a great measure, to the influ- 
 ence which young AVilson had exercised in 
 early life over the mind of his friend and 
 companion. 
 
 Sir Richard was a man of most noble 
 and generous disposition, and his charity 
 was of a truly catholic cast. So, though a 
 Unitarian now, and perhaps something 
 more, he was still always ready to contri- 
 bute to church or chapel building, mis- 
 sions, and other religious objects, without 
 much regard to the sectarian view of the 
 matter, to the intense disgust of ^Ir Wil- 
 son, of course. 
 
 Nathan Eothschild had actually asked 
 him on one occasion for a contribution 
 towards the erection of a Synagogue, and 
 had ffot it, and a liberal one too. 
 
 Sir Richard's liberality in this direction 
 had once well nigh led to the first serious 
 quarrel between the two friends. The 
 
 Bishop of , a prelate of distinguished 
 
 piety and an insatiable craving for new
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 49 
 
 churches and new livingSj had on one oc- 
 casion of many pathetically lamented to his 
 ^^dear, though religiously mistaken friend," 
 Sir Richard EllesdeCj the spiritual destitu- 
 tion of one of the Metropolitan districts. The 
 banker had just had two slices'of good luck ; 
 he had realized in a joint operation with the 
 house of Baring and the house of Hope, a 
 net profit of about £50,000 sterling, and had 
 enriched his collection with an undoubted 
 Sebastiano del Piombo — a dead bargain in 
 the bargain. So the Bishop had hit upon 
 a good time for his pleading. Sir Richard, 
 even more than usually disposed to a gen- 
 erous liberality, handed the petitioning 
 prelate a hlanJc cheque^ which that worthy 
 ecclesiastic had the modesty to fill up to 
 the tune of thirty thousand pounds sterling I — 
 to build a church and endotv the living, to 
 which he forthwith, and even ere the site 
 for the sacred edifice had been chosen, 
 designated a deserving young clergyman, 
 a near relation of his own (of course). 
 
 Well, the cheque, being for a large 
 
 VOL. I. 4
 
 50 THE OLD LEDGEPw. 
 
 sum and upon Sir Richard's private ac- 
 count, was presented in due time to the 
 head cashier, who opened liis eyes very 
 wide, and, after some hesitation, decided, 
 at the risk of a row with his chief, to pro- 
 ceed to the banker's sanctum, and endea- 
 vour, if possible, to obtain the cancelling 
 of the obnoxious little document. 
 
 When the cashier presented himself 
 before his chief, and mutely handed him 
 the cheque, it must be confessed Sir Rich- 
 ard was slightly staggered, and felt not a 
 little wroth; poor easy man, he had 
 given the Bishop credit for some delicacy. 
 He was annoyed; but his first impulse, 
 and a very natural one, was to quarrel 
 with the man who had, as it were, brought 
 the annoyance home to him. So, address- 
 ing the cashier for the first time in their 
 lives ^^ Sir," he sternly demanded, " Pray, 
 sir, had you any doubt about my signa- 
 ture?" 
 
 ^^No, Sir Richard," responded that 
 functionary, rather ' crest-fallen, ^^ it was
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 51 
 
 the largeness of the sum filled in, and the 
 name of the party to whom it is made 
 payable, that made me — '' 
 
 '^ Sir," interrupted the irate banker, 
 '' I never allow my signature to be ques- 
 tioned. I should like to know what busi- 
 ness it can possibly be of yours to whom 
 and to what amount I am pleased to give 
 cheques. Go, pay it at once, and let me 
 have no repetition of this." 
 
 Then, suddenly struck with the con- 
 sciousness of the gross injustice of this 
 rebuke, before the indignant cashier could 
 find words to give vent to his outraged 
 feelings, the banker added, in a tone of 
 heart-felt contrition, ^^ Wilson, my dear 
 friend, forgive me and shake hands ; and if. 
 ever you catch me giving a blank cheque 
 to any of God's servants again, I give you 
 leave to tell me of it. Shake hands. You 
 must confess it is very annoying to be 
 done in this disgraceful manner ; but pay 
 it, my boy, pay it, and let's have done 
 with it, for heaven's sake." 
 
 UNIVERSITY 0|J 
 ILLINOIS LIBRARY
 
 52 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Mr Wilson generously accepted this 
 rather unintelligible and slightly illogical 
 apology; lie took and warmly shook his 
 friend's out-stretched hand, and, without 
 uttering another word of remonstrance, 
 left the sanctum a happier man than he 
 had entered it, and went forthwith to pay 
 the objectionable cheque. Only three 
 times did he count the notes over before 
 he finally parted with them — with a sigh 
 — then he resolved to forget all about it. 
 
 Mr Richard Ellesdee, the banker's 
 eldest son, was in his 30th year. In 
 personal appearance he was what his 
 father must have been at his age ; in dis- 
 position also pretty much the same, only 
 with a deal more stiffness and pride about 
 liim than Sir Ei chard could ever afford to 
 muster, which clearly was the contribution 
 of the Davenant stock. 
 
 There was also still more sternness and 
 decision about him than about his father. 
 
 In intellectual attainments he certainly 
 did not come up quite to the paternal
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 53 
 
 standard, though he might justly pass for 
 a very well-informed and well-read gentle- 
 man. He did not share his father's foible 
 for antiquities and objects of vertii ; but, 
 on the other hand, he was somewhat lack- 
 ing in the cautious prudence which cha- 
 racterized Sir Eichard in all his busi- 
 ness undertakings ; he was, in fact, of a 
 much bolder and more speculative turn of 
 mind. In honourable uprightness and in- 
 tegrity of purpose he was a worthy scion 
 of the Ellesdees. 
 
 As has already been stated, since the 
 death of his stepmother, the banking busi- 
 ness had been conducted almost entirely 
 by him, Sir William Davenant being, of 
 course, regarded simjily as a sleeping part- 
 ner in the house. 
 
 In December 1825, however, Sir Eich- 
 ard had for a time taken himself the helm, 
 but after having safely steered the bark of 
 the bank through the shoals and quicksands 
 of the financial and commercial crisis of 
 that fearful month, so fatal to many houses.
 
 54 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 he had again relinquished it to his son's 
 guidance. 
 
 Mr Richard Ellcsdce was a member of 
 the Church of England, with a strong 
 leaning to High Church principles. For 
 with the large toleration of a truly superior 
 mind, Sir Richard had freely permitted 
 his sister to bring up his son in the faith 
 which had been the family's for nearly 
 three centuries. 
 
 This brings us to another and a most 
 important member indeed of the EUesdee 
 family — the banker's elder sister. Miss 
 Maria Theresia Ellesdee, who had now for 
 many years reigned absolute over her bro- 
 ther's household, and who did what may be 
 termed the ^^representation," with infinite 
 credit to the name and fame of the firm. 
 
 Miss Maria Theresia Ellesdee was now 
 in her 56th year. Despite her grey hair 
 and the stern sadness of her face, she 
 still bore the unmistakable stamp of more 
 than common beauty. She was a lady of 
 most stately presence and of truly royal de-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 65 
 
 portment. After the death of her mother, 
 in 1776, her father had consented, at the 
 reiterated request of her Imperial God- 
 mother, to send his daughter to Vienna, 
 where she remained four years, treated 
 as a dearly beloved child by the Empress- 
 Queen, until the death of the gracious 
 sovereign, in 1780, when the Princess of 
 Khevenhiiller-Metsch prevailed upon the 
 banker to let her take the child with her 
 to her seat at Hohen-Osterwitz in Ca- 
 rinthia. 
 
 Here Miss Maria Theresia Ellesdee 
 remained till the age of 17, when her 
 father at last peremptorily insisted upon 
 her return to the bosom of lier own 
 family. 
 
 When she came back to England, in 
 obedience to her father's commands, she was 
 a most graceful and accomplished young 
 lady, and most beautiful withal, but with 
 all the haughtiness of demeanour of her 
 godmother and deputy-godmother, and 
 with pride sufficient to stock ten Lucifers.
 
 56 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 The Fates seemed to have in store for 
 her a bright and happy career. 
 
 The young Count Francis of Browne- 
 Marbach, a grand-nephew of Field-Marshal, 
 Count Maximilian Ulysses Browne, one of 
 the most distinguished Austrian command- 
 ers (who fell in the battle of Prague in 
 1757), had made Miss Ellesdee's acquaint- 
 ance at tlie Princess Khevenhliller's, and 
 had fallen madly in love with her. He was 
 one of the most handsome and most ac- 
 complished cavaliers of the time, and pos- 
 sessed of vast wealth, w4th still greater 
 expectations from a near relation of his, 
 Count Greorge Browne, one of the leading 
 Russian notabilities of the period, and 
 governor of Livonia, with whom he was 
 a great favourite. 
 
 The Brown es happening to be of Irish 
 descent, the young Count claimed a kind 
 of half-relationship of country with the 
 banker's daughter. He followed the be- 
 loved of his heart to England. It would 
 have been difficult indeed to resist so much
 
 THE OLD LEDGEE. 57 
 
 devotion and so many other claims to a 
 lady's favourable attention. Miss Maria 
 Theresia Ellesdee, then, was graciously 
 pleased to return her lover's affection, and 
 the only difficulty in the way of a matri- 
 monial alliance between the two high con- 
 tracting parties — difference of religion — 
 being happily set aside by the gentleman, 
 who with cheerful alacrity embraced the 
 doctrines of the Church of England upon 
 the first intimation of the necessity of this 
 step if he wished to secm^e the lady of his 
 affection, as he would on the same terms 
 have as readily turned Buddhist or Moslem, 
 the marriage was appointed for the second 
 week of October in 1788 ; and there seemed 
 now to lie open before the young couple 
 an infinite vista of unclouded happiness. 
 But, as Schiller says only too truly in his 
 hnmortal Song of the Bell, 
 
 " — mit des Geschickes Machten 
 1st kein ew'ger Bund zu flechten, 
 XJnd das Ungliick schreitet schnell." 
 
 Count Francis was passionately fond of
 
 58 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 field sports, and a most fearless rider. He 
 had brought over with him to England a 
 fine stud of horses, among them Arpad, the 
 flower of his stable, a dark chestnut of 
 undoubted Arabian descent, but of more 
 than doubtful temper, and strongly opposed 
 to suffer any rider on his back except the 
 Count, his master, and even him only with 
 forced and reluctant submission, because 
 that he feared him and his mighty muscles. 
 
 Well, it so happened that some time 
 before the final acceptance by the lady and 
 her family of the Count's proffered alli- 
 ance, a great steeple-chase had been ar- 
 ranged, for which Arpad and his noble 
 owner were heavily backed. This event 
 was now fixed to come off on the very eve 
 of the marriage. 
 
 Miss EUesdee, who knew the horse's 
 temj)er, was taken with dread forebodings 
 of some fatal accident to her beloved. She 
 spared not commands, nor prayers, nor 
 tears, to make the Count relinquish his 
 appointed part in the intended race.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 59 
 
 Willingly would the fond lover have 
 obeyed his lady's behest, but that he had 
 unfortunately taken it into his head that 
 he was in ^'honour" bound to keep the 
 engagement. 
 
 What a fearful amount of suffering and 
 misery has been inflicted, to be sure, by 
 that curious little word, and the fanciful 
 notions entertained of its imperative de- 
 mands and requirements. 
 
 So he endeavoured to find a mezzo 
 termine: he most solemnly promised his 
 bride that he would ride with the greatest 
 allowable caution, and swore to her that this 
 should positively be the last race he would 
 ever engage in. With this the poor girl 
 was in the end compelled to rest content. 
 
 It turned out to be one of the wildest 
 and maddest break-neck steeple-chases ever 
 run in England. 
 
 The Count, carried away by the fear- 
 ful excitement of the race, forgot his pro- 
 mised caution. He took fences and gates 
 and ditches with unexampled foolhardiness,
 
 60 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 and sadly against the better judgment of 
 his horse, who showed not a bit of temper 
 on the occasion, and might have carried 
 his master safely through and over all 
 danger had he been allowed to act as he 
 listed. But his rider, whose fearlessness 
 was unhappily greater than his horseman- 
 ship, urged him on madly and capriciously, 
 and so it came to pass that an ugly gate, a 
 regular stopper in the path, brought horse 
 and man to grief, — the horse with a broken 
 back, the rider with a broken neck. The 
 Count had not kept his promise, but he 
 kept his oath — he never rode another race. 
 The first shock of the sad news to the 
 bereaved bride was fearful. A brain fever 
 mercifully intervened, however, substi- 
 tuting the blank of temporary oblivion for 
 the acute pangs of an ever-present remem- 
 brance of the thing that Jiad been and ivas noio 
 no more. For weeks her life was desjoaired 
 of Her youth and the strength of her con- 
 stitution triumphed at last. She lived ; but 
 for years after hers was a life of sadness,
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 61 
 
 led in the deepest seclusion from the world. 
 She refused to be comforted ; and but that 
 the heart J no doubt to fit it for the heavy 
 work, mechanical and emotional, which it 
 is destined to do incessantly from life's first 
 to life's last breath, is made of remarkably 
 tough fibre, hers would surely have broken. 
 Time at last tempered her great sorrow, 
 and she was induced to mix again with the 
 world around her. But she solemnly 
 vowed to keep her faith inviolate to her 
 dead lover, and though suitors crowded 
 around her, of the noblest in the land, and 
 it was her father's dearest wish to see his 
 daughter married, no prayer, no persua- 
 sion had power to move her. Even when 
 her father, roused to anger at last by what 
 he called her undutiful, unfilial, and un- 
 natural conduct, for the first time in her life 
 spoke to her harsh words of reproof, and 
 sternly commanded her, as she valued his 
 affection, to look with favourable eyes upon 
 one of her wooers, who was most warmly 
 attached to her and was in every way
 
 62 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 worthy of her, she only bowed her head 
 in silence to the tempest of his wrath, and 
 wept ; but she remained as firm as a rock 
 in her fixed resolve. 
 
 So they let her alone at last. 
 
 After her father's death she insisted 
 upon ceding to her brother her share in 
 the inheritance, stipulating for herself 
 only an annuity of five thousand pounds. 
 Finding all remonstrances and refusals 
 on his part unavailing, her brother yielded 
 at last a reluctant consent, and the arrange- 
 ment was concluded as proposed. 
 
 When, a few years after, her brother 
 made up his mind to carry his Household 
 Gods to Amsterdam, she consented to 
 preside over his London establishment, 
 and to act as the lady of the house in his 
 wife's compulsory absence. 
 
 And in this position we find her still 
 at the time of the opening of our story. 
 
 Whatever chastening influence the grief 
 of her bitter bereavement might have had 
 upon her in other respects, it had left
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 63 
 
 her pride untouched. She remained draped 
 in the same haughtiness of manner and de- 
 meanour which had characterized her in the 
 days of her brilliant youth. She was Miss 
 Maria Theresia Ellesdee, the god-daughter 
 of an Empress, and she took care to keep 
 this fact properly before the eyes and in 
 the mind of all around her. She was ad- 
 dressed ^^ Madam" by all in the house, even 
 by her nephew Richard. Nay, her brother 
 hardly ever ventured upon a simple 
 ^^Mary" or '^Sister dear;" he mostly 
 called her '^ Madam, my sister." He had 
 done this at first jocularly, it is true, but 
 the royal style of address had given such 
 evident pleasure to the lady that the good- 
 natured man had gone on with it ever 
 since. What would you have? We all 
 liave our foibles. 
 
 Stern she was, and but rarely would 
 slie permit a genial smile to irradiate with 
 a beam of sympathetic life the sad still 
 repose of her marble face. 
 
 Yet beneath the hard crust of inor-
 
 64 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 dinate self-esteem and repellent pride, 
 immoderate, all-absorbing, selfish sorrow, 
 and impious God-accusing repinings, there 
 lay hidden, deep in Miss Ellesdee's inner- 
 most being, the richest treasures of a noble 
 and generous disposition. If her heart 
 seemed hard as a rock, it was like unto the 
 rock in Horeb : if you but knew how to 
 smite it, it would send forth gushing the 
 living and life-giving waters of the warm- 
 est affection. 
 
 There was one who possessed this 
 magical power — her nephew Louis, or to 
 give him the full benefit of his baptismal 
 bestowal and belonging, Adrian Kichard 
 Louis.* 
 
 Louis Ellesdee, the banker's younger 
 son, by his second wife, was now in 
 his 20th year. He had his mother's 
 soft blue eyes and winsome smile, his 
 father's rich dark chestnut hair and lofty 
 brow. Cheeks that rivalled the peach, 
 a Grecian nose, a small mouth set with 
 
 * His mother had alway scalled him Adrian, or Addj.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 66 
 
 two rows of pearly teetli, encircled with 
 the true Ellesdee lips, rosy, but expressive 
 of firmness and decision, and a well- 
 moulded chin completed the ^^ make-up" 
 of a wonderfully attractive face. 
 
 His figure was slight and slim, but of 
 rare symmetry, and his limbs, strong and 
 steely, yet had the charm of almost 
 feminine roundness. 
 
 It has been stated already that in the 
 days of his childhood his mother's un- 
 reasoning fondness had well-nigh succeed- 
 ed in spoiling a most excellent natural 
 disposition. Eton had done much to bring 
 about a wholesome change; but the evil had 
 gone too far, unhappily, to be thorough- 
 ly eradicated even by the sharp remedial 
 agency of a public school. Master Louis 
 remained still awfully wilful, and had a very 
 ugly habit of ^^ putting down his foot," in 
 imitation of his father, in all matters where 
 the gratification of his little whims and 
 fancies happened to meet with the least op- 
 position. Still he was a noble, frank, and
 
 66 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 open-hearted youth, and generous to a fault. 
 
 Upon money he looked somewhat in 
 the light of simply an excellent medium 
 devised for the accommodation of its lucky 
 possessors, to enable them to obtain in ex- 
 change for it, in the readiest way and with 
 the least amount of trouble, all the enjoy- 
 ments of life. And to him one of the great- 
 est of life's pleasures was to make others 
 happy. 
 
 He spent his money most freely, then, 
 more freely indeed than even the very 
 large allowance his father granted him 
 could afford to bear. 
 
 Gifted with his father's natural quick- 
 ness of perception, and a rare facility of 
 apprehension, combined with an eager 
 thirst for knowledge, he had made the 
 most rapid progress at school, so that, 
 though he had entered Eton only at 
 14, and with very little previous teaching, 
 yet before he had fully attained his 18th 
 year he was in every way fit and qualified 
 for Cambridge; to which ancient seat of
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 67 
 
 learning his father sent him — not with a 
 view that he should pre^Dare himself for 
 one of the professions, but simply to finish 
 his education. For it was the banker's 
 dearest wish that his younger son should, 
 like the elder, follow the calling of his 
 ancestors, and become, in due course of 
 time, a partner in the great house of Elles- 
 dee and Co. 
 
 Well, at Cambridge the young man 
 undoubtedly learned a great many things 
 very useful to know in life. He read hard, 
 and speedily became, as the phrase goes, 
 no end of a mathematician. He also stuck 
 to the classics with laudable perseverance. 
 French and Dutch had been familiar to 
 him from his earliest childhood. Possessed 
 by a strong longing after the imaginative 
 and fanciful, and gifted with a rare appre- 
 ciation of the beauties of poetry, he 
 eagerly threw himself also into the study 
 of German and Italian, that lie might 
 enjoy Gothe and Schiller, Dante and 
 Tasso, in the original.
 
 6S THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Unfortunately, besides these very de- 
 sirable acquirements, the young man was 
 led into the pursuit of another kind of 
 knowledge, not quite so useful, but in 
 which he made almost equally rapid pro- 
 gress, to wit, drinking, smoking, playing 
 games of hazard, betting, and autograph- 
 ing on stamped paper ; in short, the usual 
 accomplishments which constitute part of 
 the University education of sons of family; 
 except wenching, -however, from which 
 he was preserved by the virgin pui'ity of 
 his soul. 
 
 The autograjDhing was done almost en- 
 tirely to ^^ oblige" his ^'fnetids,^^ and was 
 of course always represented to be a mere 
 matter of form, as the bills were sure to be 
 taken up in proper time by the party 
 '' obliged." The youth, proud, no doubt, 
 that his signature, which he knew, being 
 that of a minor, had no absolute commer- 
 cial value whatever, should command so 
 much respect, gave it right and left with 
 fatal facility.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 69 
 
 It was not likely that these things 
 should remain hidden for ever from the 
 ken of his family, more particularly of 
 his anxious father. 
 
 So when Master Louis had had about 
 18 months' spell at University life, with 
 its labours, charms, and seductions, he 
 was surprised one fine morning by the 
 sudden apparition of his relieving officer, 
 in the sternest mood the poor youth had 
 ever seen him, with a small bundle of 
 papers in his hand, which upon inspection, 
 turned out to be little financial documents, 
 graced with the sign manual of Adrian 
 Richard Louis Ellesdee. 
 
 An explanation necessarily ensued, 
 which naturally led to a general confession 
 on the part of the poor lad, whose errors 
 were, after all, simply of the head, not of 
 the heart. 
 
 When the banker had put every item 
 down, and summed up the total, he found 
 that young Hopeful had managed, within 
 the brief space of 18 months, to run into
 
 70 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 debt, on his own account to the extent c . 
 some seven thousand pounds, and on the 
 ^^ obliging " account to the tune of over 
 twenty thousand ! 
 
 Sir Richard was a wise man. He for- 
 bore useless up braidings. He simply gave 
 his son the benefit of a lecture on the 
 value, the uses, and the abuse of money. 
 He told him that, as he was an infant in 
 years, and his debts had certainly not 
 been incurred for necessaries, there was 
 no legal obligation upon him to pay, and 
 none, either legal or moral, upon the 
 father; but that he valued the honour of 
 the name too highly to repudiate his son's 
 debts. He would pay them in full, but he 
 thought it was time that Louis should take 
 his place at one of the desks in the bank to 
 prepare himself for the position he was to 
 hold one day; and he demanded of him also 
 that he should solemnly promise to eschew 
 betting, gambling, and debts in future, — 
 also, and more particularly, stamped paper, 
 except in the legitimate way of business.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 71 
 
 The contrite boy gratefully consented 
 to his father's conditions and demands. 
 
 Within a week after, the debts were paid 
 in full, and Louis Ellesdee left Trinity, 
 Cambridge, for Lombard Street, London. 
 
 With all I his wilfulness and follies, 
 the boy was sound at the core. His 
 father's considerate forbearance had made 
 a deep impression upon him. He resolved 
 to deserve so much kindness, and endea- 
 voured to the best of his ability to keep 
 all the promises he had made ; and, but 
 that the softness of his heart and the un- 
 bounded generosity of his disposition 
 would lead him still occasionally into 
 scrapes, he kept pretty closely to his 
 resolution. 
 
 There was a rare charm about him, which 
 won him every heart, including that of his 
 aunt, Miss Maria Theresia Ellesdee, who 
 lavished all the hidden wealth of her affec- 
 tion upon him, and whom he loved dearly 
 in return, as a second mother. Let all the 
 world beside call her Madam, and hum-
 
 72 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 bly stand afar from her with trembling jr^ 
 awe — to him she was '^ Aunt Mary," or 
 '^ Aunt Terry," or ^' dear Aunty," or 
 ^' dear Mammy," for by those terms of 
 endearment would he address her indiffer- 
 ently, just as the fancy might take him ; 
 nay, on one occasion, when she had been 
 even more than usually kind and indulg- 
 ent to him, and had got him out of one 
 of those scrapes into which his rash gener- 
 osity would still sometimes betray him, the 
 audacious boy had thrown his arms round 
 her stately neck, and had actually 
 called her ^^ dear old thing!" And she, 
 the proud, stern woman, so far from chid- 
 ing, had kissed him and wept. Indeed, his 
 presence always seemed to act upon her as 
 the wonderful tree on the waters at Marah: 
 it sweetened away the bitterness of her 
 affliction. It was said that he bore in face 
 and figure some distant likeness to her own 
 lost loved one. Was it that she loved to trace 
 this dear likeness in the lineaments of the 
 young face, or that perchance she saw
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 73 
 
 visions of the blissful past in the depths 
 of those soft blue eyes ? Who can tell ? 
 Who will undertake to fathom the mys- 
 teries of the female heart, or to track the 
 labyrinthine windings of woman's passions 
 and emotions ? 
 
 There remains still one member of the 
 house of Ellesdee who claims a few words 
 here — Sir William Davenant, Sir Richard's 
 brother-in-law, and a sleeping partner in 
 the firm. 
 
 This gentleman remained still the 
 same we have seen him some thirty years 
 back, that is to say, possessed by the same 
 insatiate and insatiable desire to turn much 
 into more, to gratify which he had, among 
 other things, married, about 25 years 
 back, some seven thousand acres of good 
 arable land, with a fine mansion and numer- 
 ous farm-houses, &c., erected thereon, and 
 half-a-million in the funds, with the trifling 
 encumbrance of a very ugly and most un- 
 amiable woman attached to the same. Lady 
 Davenant had presented her husband with
 
 74 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 three children, a boy and two girls, who 
 took in every way after their worthy pro- 
 genitors. Sir William had now attained 
 his 55th year. He was one of the wealthiest 
 Commoners in England. In person he was 
 lank and lean; the most distinguishing 
 feature of his face was a very sharp Roman 
 nose, with a considerable dash of the hawk 
 about it. His heart seemed made of bul- 
 lion, his soul of title-deeds, his mind of 
 securities.
 
 75 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A NEW HOUSE. ARCHITECTURAL, ARCHAIOLO- 
 
 GICAL, AND ART-CRITICAL. 
 
 The bank of Ellesdee & Co. was in 
 Lombard Street, of course, but the family 
 mansion bad been ^' located " now for some 
 80 years in Old London's stateliest 
 square — that of Grosvenor, to wit. In the 
 year of Grace, 1824, it came to pass that 
 Sir Roper Gilescourt, Knt., Alderman, and 
 whilom Lord Mayor, a dealer in train-oil, 
 tallow, hemp, and other Russian produce, 
 one of the great guns of the Baltic Coffee 
 House, bethought him as how, having 
 achieved much wealth, he ought to take 
 his proper place among the magnates of the 
 land. And taking pride in being a novus 
 homo, and the architect of his own fortune,
 
 76 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 he meditated upon building him a new 
 habitation to suit that should be as solid as 
 his fortune. Now there stood at this time 
 in Park Lane, an old mansion, yclept Seid- 
 lau House, which had formerly belonged to 
 a branch of the ancient Scotch family of the 
 Lyons of Forfarshire, but was now the pro- 
 perty of the eccentric Earl of Bridgewater, 
 who, for some reason unknown to the pre- 
 sent historian, wishing to part with it, offer- 
 ed it for sale. Our worthy trader, deem- 
 ing the site sufficiently aristocratic to 
 receive the lares and penates of the great 
 Gilescourt family, gladly became the for- 
 tunate purchaser of this ^^most desirable 
 lot," with the freehold of a little more 
 than an acre of ground, at the extremely 
 moderate sum, all things considered, of 
 forty-eight thousand pounds. * 
 
 Sir Roper Gilescourt set at once about 
 pulling down the old mansion, and erecting 
 in its stead a square solid building of grey 
 Portland stone. 
 
 But, lamentable to relate, when the
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 77 
 
 noble structure was just on the point of 
 completion, the storm of December, 1825, 
 burst over Gogomagogia, and blasted the 
 bright fortunes and hopes of the great 
 dealer in tallow : he fell, but, to do him 
 justice, he fell with the dignity of an an- 
 cient Roman, drawing his commercial toga 
 decently around him, and leaving no man 
 a penny the worse for his misfortune. 
 Only, of course, he w^as compelled to 
 part with the pride of his dream, and 
 the dream of his pride — the thing which, 
 in happy unconsciousness of the approach- 
 ing blast, he had already proudly named 
 ^^ Grilescourt House !" 
 
 Sir Eichard Ellesdee had for some 
 time past found the house in Grosvenor 
 Square too small for the constantly growing 
 proportions of his collection, which he 
 burnt to raise to the dignity of a museum. 
 
 He therefore gladly availed himself of 
 the opportunity offered to make the ^^fond 
 folly " of the great Desdichado of the Bal- 
 tic his own. He paid one hundred and
 
 78 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 twenty thousand pounds for it, with the 
 buildings in course of construction, ma- 
 terials, &c., and allocated a few thousand 
 pounds more to finish the job. 
 
 The structure had of course proceeded 
 too far to permit Sir Richard to make 
 any alterations in the rather primitive 
 plan devised by the original projector. He 
 was compelled to rest satisfied with ar- 
 ranging the interior a little more after his 
 own better taste. 
 
 The works were urged on with greater 
 vigour than ever, and the beginning of 1826 
 saw the new '^Ellesdee House" finished. 
 
 Well, when the last scafibldings were 
 removed, and the edifice was permitted to 
 burst upon the sight of the beholder in 
 all its naked pride, it must be confessed 
 that its architectural beauties looked not 
 exactly such as would take your breath 
 away with admiration. The building had, 
 in fact, been devised much upon the favour- 
 ite plan of London architecture in general, 
 .which made the great Canova define the
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 79 
 
 streets of our unique metropolis as ^' an 
 interminable, intermittent series of brick- 
 walls with holes through them." No mat- 
 ter, liowever, there was an air of square- 
 ness and solidity about it well befitting the 
 local habitation of substantial wealth. It 
 seemed to say to the beholder, ^' I may not 
 be very beautiful to look at on the out- 
 side, or cast exactly in a Palladian mould, 
 but come and see me ' at home,' and you 
 will be astonished to find how convenient, 
 comfortable, and cosy I am within-doors." 
 
 The mansion was built throughout of 
 grey Portland stone. It stood in its own 
 grounds. There was a principal building 
 in front, with two side wings branching 
 off from it, rearward, at right angles, the 
 entire body thus forming three sides of a 
 quadrangle. The principal building was 
 three stories high, including the ground- 
 floor. It presented a frontage to the park, 
 extending over 30 yards, with eight win- 
 dows in the upper stories, and six on the 
 ground-floor ; each window was a little
 
 80 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 over five feet wide, with about the same 
 breadth of wall between. 
 
 A balcony projecting full 12 feet run 
 along in front of the four central windows 
 in the first story, supported upon 12 pol- 
 ished grey granite columns of the Corinth- 
 ian order. 
 
 The depth was 23 yards, with six win- 
 dows on each side in the upper stories, 
 four on the ground-floor. All the win- 
 dows were double, with four feet clear be- 
 tween the inner frame and the outer frame. 
 They had folding-leaf frames, after the 
 Continental fashion. On the ground-floor, 
 and in the first story, which were both 
 extremely lofty, they were 12 feet high; 
 in the second story they measured only 
 eight feet in height. The frames had fitted 
 in them single panes of mirror glass, pro- 
 cured from the manufactory at St Gobain 
 at a most extravagant price. 
 
 The mansion afforded ample accommo- 
 dation to the banker and his family, and 
 to the great EUesdee collection. The
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 81 
 
 side-wings were also substantially built 
 and appointed to match, only of coiu-se 
 not in the profuse style of the body of the 
 mansion. They contained the various 
 household offices, kitchens, stables, coach- 
 houses, servants' rooms, &c. &c. 
 
 The grounds around were laid out in 
 lawns and gardens in the most tasteful 
 manner. 
 
 The principal door in front, leading to 
 the great entrance hall, was a curious relic 
 of antiquity. It had in times of yore 
 given the sleek monk and the weary wan- 
 derer access to the .hospitable abbey of St 
 Ricquier, near Abbeville. 
 
 It was of oak, and profusely decorated 
 with wood carvings in basso-relievo, in- 
 tended to represent the cardinal virtues 
 and the cardinal sins. They were no 
 doubt well meant ; but some of the figures 
 and scenes illustrative of the latter bor- 
 dered alarmingly upon the geni^e drdlatiqiic 
 et grivois^ and certainly required a great 
 deal of '^ purity'' and a strong dose of tlie
 
 82 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 '^ honi soit qui mal y pense'''' principle in the 
 beholder to let liim look on them without 
 some little shock, at least, to his notions of 
 propriety. 
 
 This door formed one of the most 
 valued items in the catalogue of the great 
 Ellesdee collection. From an economical 
 point of view, perhaps, not mucli could be 
 urged against the selection of its present 
 location ; from an artistic point of view, all 
 that could be said in favour, or more pro- 
 perly speaking, pleaded in excuse of the said 
 selection, was that the door did not look too 
 violently out of place where it stood. 
 
 The entrance hall was a truly grand- 
 looking affair. It was some 42 feet wide, 
 and stretched to the entire depth of the 
 mansion. It was extremely lofty. A. most 
 magnificent staircase of grey granite, with 
 red granite balustrades, both highly polish- 
 ed, led from it to the upper part of the 
 house ; the steps were each two feet wide, 
 with a gentle rise of some three inches and 
 a half only.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 83 
 
 The hall was stocked with a marvellous 
 collection of benches and arm-chairs of 
 carved wood, most of them Flemish, and 
 of the time of Louis XIII. 
 
 From the ceiling pended, by bronze 
 chains, an antique bronze chandelier garn- 
 ished with 48 lamps — a most curious relic 
 of the past. 
 
 The remaining portion of the ground- 
 floor contained the breakfast and luncheon 
 room, the dining-hall, the library, a bil- 
 liard room, a muniment room, and the 
 banker's study. 
 
 The third story contained the sleeping 
 apartments of the family, with bath-rooms 
 and dressing-rooms attached ; apartments 
 for visitors, and several bed-rooms for the 
 personal attendants of Sir Richard and his 
 sons. 
 
 It was Sir Richard's weakness to have 
 the entire house, with the exception of the 
 offices and the servants' rooms, furnished 
 with nothing but antiquities. His own 
 bed-room had in it a most wonderful cano-
 
 84 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 pied bed, of the time of Louis XII., pro- 
 fusely ornamented with carvings, &c., with 
 red and gold damask furniture, and suffi- 
 ciently ample to hold an entire family 
 of 12. • 
 
 But I find I am giving way overmuch 
 to my own weakness — which is catalogu- 
 ing. As this is intended for a story, not 
 for a description of a collection of curiosi- 
 ties, I will abstain from further boring the 
 reader — at least as far as poor human 
 nature will let me. 
 
 The chief pride of the mansion was the 
 first floor, with a splendid drawing-room, 
 two noble galleries, and Miss Maria There- 
 sia Ellesdee's suite of apartments — the lat- 
 ter exceptionally furnished in the modern 
 fashion, with the elegant and luxurious 
 productions of the most celebrated Vienna 
 houses in the upholstery line. This the 
 lady, with her predilection for all things 
 Austrian, had insisted upon, and her bro- 
 ther had of course been obliged to submit, 
 with the best grace he could muster.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 85 
 
 The drawing-room measured 42 feet 
 by 30. Immense folding-doors on each 
 side led to the two galleries, whiclij each 
 24 feet wide, ran along the entire depth of 
 the building. The gallery on the right 
 contained the Ellesdee collection of paint- 
 ings ; the gallery on the left was stocked 
 with curiosities belonging to other branches 
 of art, which it would take us too long to 
 describe, even in the most cursory manner. 
 
 The picture gallery contained some 300 
 paintings, reputed to be the productions of 
 the great masters whose names the}^ bore. 
 A great many of them were undoubted 
 originals : others were positively declared, 
 or violently suspected, by the cognoscenti, 
 to be spurious imitations or copies. To Sir 
 Richard this mattered but little. He look- 
 ed upon every painting in his possession as 
 genuine, — and after all, to man things are 
 not what they may truly happen to be, but 
 what he believes them. 
 
 I really cannot resist the temptation to 
 give a few brief lines to some of tlic
 
 86 THE OLD LEDGEE. 
 
 principal among these noble treasures of 
 art. 
 
 There was an '^ Adoration of the 
 Magi," reputed by Cimabue, the father 
 of the modern school of painting, who 
 flourished in the 13th century. This 
 painting, it must be confessed, looked 
 much more like the production of one of 
 the very youngest sons of the school, 
 achieved in the days of his apprentice- 
 ship ; yet it had nevertheless cost Sir 
 Eichard some three thousand pounds — but, 
 then, the canvas was unquestionably very 
 aged and slightly rotten. 
 
 Then there was a grand liistorical pic- 
 ture by Giovanni- Battista Cima da Coneg- 
 liano, one of the great masters of the Vene- 
 tian school (died 1517), representing the 
 Second Frederick, of the house of Hohen- 
 staufen, receiving the news of his excom- 
 munication by Pope Innocent IV., the 
 haughty Sinibald Fiesco, Count of Lavag- 
 na, — a truly great painting. The artist 
 has chosen the moment when the Em-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 87 
 
 peror, burning with angry indignation, 
 and having placed the crown on his head, 
 has risen, and, darting around him the 
 lightning glance of his piercing eyes, ex- 
 claimeth in a voice of thunder, ^' I yet 
 hold my crown, and neither Pope nor 
 Synodial Council shall wrest it from me 
 without a bloody struggle ! '' 
 
 The painting bears the following ex- 
 planatory inscription in Latin (taken from 
 the historical annals of Matthseus Paris, ad 
 annum 1245) : — ^^ Et coronatus erexit se, 
 et minacibus oculis torvoque vultu omnes 
 circumsedentes adspiciens, voce terribili et 
 insatiabili corde dixit : Non adhiic coronam 
 meam ])erdidi^ vel Papali impiignatione, vel 
 Synodcdi Concilio, sine criiento perdam certa- 
 mineP 
 
 There was '' The Fall of Nineveh," by 
 Domenico Ghirlandajo,* the great master 
 of Michael Angelo, and a ^^ Daniel in the 
 
 * His family name was Corradi. His fatlicr was 
 one of the most famous goldworkers of the 15th cen- 
 tury, whose skill and taste in devising garlands for 
 ladies' head-dresses gained him his by-name.
 
 88 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Lions' Den," by the latter greater master. 
 ''' The Death of Caesar " by Coreggio, the 
 chief of the Lombard school, the creator 
 of the Harmony of Colours, the facile 
 princeps in tlie chiaroscuro ; and a Mag- 
 dalen by the same master, much damaged 
 by fire. This picture, painted in L532, 
 was the original of the famous painting 
 in the Dresden Gallery, Coreggio's last 
 chef-cVoeuvrc. It had come to grief by 
 an unfortunate accident, and Coreo^orio 
 repainted it the year after, not long before 
 his death. 
 
 Sir Richard had also been fortunate 
 enough to secure a charming little '^ Scene 
 in Arcadia," by Griovanni Santi, the father 
 of Raphael the Transcendent. 
 
 There was a '^ Christ walking on the 
 Sea," attributed to the latter ; and one of 
 those marvellously sweet representations 
 of the Virgin, l)y the same sublime master, 
 who has done more for Mariolatry, by the 
 witchery of his brush, than all the dogmas 
 of the immaculate conception could achieve.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 89 
 
 A ^' Venus Attiring," by Eaphael's 
 darling pupil, Giulio Romano, painted 
 before the death of his great master had 
 taken away from him the divine inspiration, 
 formed one of the gems of the collection. 
 
 The ^^ Acorn Gleaning," by ^'Nature's 
 truest painter," Velasquez, and a transcend- 
 ently beautiful ^^ Madonna and Child," 
 by his great countryman and contempo- 
 rary, Murillo, constituted tlie most valu- 
 able part of the contribution of the Spanish 
 school. 
 
 The Titan Titian also had his repre- 
 sentative there : ^^ Thais," a wonderful bit 
 of carnation by that greatest of all painters. 
 
 A ^SSt Christopher carrying Christ 
 over the Stream," by Sebastiano del 
 Piombo, the inventor of the art of paint- 
 ing in oil on stone, occupied a distin- 
 guished position in the gallery, flanked, 
 on the one side, by a Judas Iscariot by 
 Leonardo da Vinci, the great chief of the 
 Florentine school ; on the other side, b}' a 
 Tintoretto.
 
 90 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 There was also Rubens' famous ^' Com- 
 bat of Gladiators," instinct with life. 
 Near this were two portraits by Rem- 
 brandt van Ryn, the one of Jan de 
 Witt, the other of Cornelius de Witt, the 
 two patriot brothers wlio were cruelly 
 murdered by a maddened mob set on by 
 young William of Orange, the deviser and 
 planner, at a later period of his life, of 
 the Massacre of Glencoe, — a noble specimen 
 of the genus prince, and much admired 
 by pious Protestants. 
 
 Of landscapes there were several by 
 Tassi — poor Buonamico ! who might have 
 shone with resplendent lustre among the 
 brightest constellations in the Italian art 
 sky, but that he loved to wallow in the 
 mire of the lowest debaucheries, which 
 even brought him at last to the galleys. 
 Also two gems by Tassi' s great pupil, 
 Claude Gel(^e, called Lorrain, the talented 
 baker, who first left the kneading of dough 
 for the grinding of colours, then took to 
 putting them on canvas, and delighted
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 91 
 
 the world with the wonderful productions 
 of his brush, with their gorgeous lights and 
 the marvellous perspective of their misty 
 distances. 
 
 There was also one of those rare 
 curiosities by Cambiasi, or Luchetto da 
 Geneva, the painter with both hands, 
 which bore the quaint device, amhahus 
 pinxit amhidexte7\ 
 
 A glorious landscape by Hobbema's 
 master-hand was flanked, on one side by 
 " Forest Life in the Ardennes," one of the 
 marvellous productions of John Ruysdael, 
 on the other side by a most vivid picture of 
 a sea-fight between an English and Dutch 
 jfrigate at close quarters, by John Ruys- 
 dael's brother Salomo, the great Dutch 
 marine painter. 
 
 Near these was placed Robert Dodd's 
 famous " Ship on Fire," which made the 
 beholder shudder to look at, by its fright- 
 ful reality. This was the only picture 
 in the collection by an English artist. 
 
 There was also a perfect little gem by
 
 92 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Gerard Douw, ^' The Morning after a 
 Carouse ; " and Jacob van der Does' 
 '^ Farm Yard at Sunrise," with its wonder- 
 ful collection of animals. 
 
 A life-like portrait of Luther was 
 placed in a most favourable position, with 
 the light falling full on the stern yet jovial 
 face of the great Augustine monk. The 
 mark of the winged serpent, with a red 
 crown on the head and a golden ring in 
 the mouth, proclaimed this portrait to be 
 the production of the Reformer's friend, 
 Lucas Cranach. 
 
 There was also a grand picture of the 
 " Holy Trinity," asserted to be by Al- 
 brecht Diirer. Sir Richard indeed would 
 insist upon it that /lis was the true ori- 
 ginal, whilst the famous painting in the 
 Belvedere, Vienna, was only a copy. Cer- 
 tainly the marvellous freshness of the 
 tints of the picture in the Ellesdee col- 
 lection rather spoke in favour of Sir 
 Richard's claim. 
 
 There was also — but it is time that
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 93 
 
 this should stop. A lune may plead for 
 indulgence J but it must not be carried to 
 the extent of lunacy. So I will hie me 
 away from this dangerously seductive 
 gallery, and proceed to the drawing-room. 
 It has already been stated that this 
 noble room measured 42 feet by 30. It 
 was 16 feet high, as were all the rooms on 
 this floor. The windows were curtained 
 with the most costly ancient brocade, 
 strewed over profusely with arabesques, 
 leaves, flowers, and fruits, in gold and 
 silver, deftly woven into the deep blue 
 rich silken ground. These brocade cur- 
 tains were doubled with white satin hang- 
 ings. The spaces between the windows 
 were lined over from ceiling to floor with 
 enormous pier-glasses, set in elaborately 
 carved and gilt frames, and flanked on 
 each side by fluted pilasters bearing 
 antique silver sconces at a height of eight 
 feet from the ground. From the ceiling 
 pended three large chandeliers, of the 
 17th century.
 
 94 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 On each of the black marble mantle- 
 pieces of the two extensive chimneys 
 which served to heat the apartment, stood 
 two six-branched silver chandeliers. At 
 each of the four corners of tlie room rose 
 a truncated black marble pillar, bearing 
 an eight-branched silver chandelier. 
 
 The furniture was entirely of the 
 Elizabethan era. It had cost the banker 
 a mint of money, and no end of research 
 and perseverance to get it together. 
 
 The artistically inlaid floor was covered 
 more than two-thirds with one of the larg- 
 est and most magnificent Karahissar car- 
 pets, dating from the beginning of the 17th 
 century ; one of the so-called Gimians, 
 which are never imported now into EuroiDC, 
 and are but rarely seen even in Imperial 
 and Royal palaces. 
 
 The walls on both sides of the drawing- 
 room contiguous to the galleries were liung 
 over with a splendid set of high-warp 
 tapestries, set off by gold and silver, and 
 intended to illustrate the history of the
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 95 
 
 house of Valois. They were of Beauvais 
 manufacture. 
 
 The wall on the remaining fourth side 
 of the drawing-room was wainscoted all 
 over with the 60 panels of rare wood 
 sculptures, which constitute the greatest 
 production of the famous Huygens Lucas 
 van Leyden, that marvellously versatile 
 and prolific artist who crowded so much 
 work within the brief space of his short 
 life. (He died at the early age of 39.) 
 
 These panels contained altogether about 
 1500 principal figures, carved in solid 
 ebony ! It had taken the great master 
 five years to accomplish his gigantic task. 
 
 Sir Eichard justly called this chef- 
 d'xuvre the crotvn of his collection ; and he 
 might well boast that he had got it a dead 
 bargain at £12,000. Indeed, the first Duke 
 of Buckingham and Chandos, who was a 
 most passionate antiquarian, and dearly 
 loved to indulge in knick-knackery and 
 hric'a-hrac-QYj , had actually offered him 
 £20,000 for his purchase, which the Duke
 
 96 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 coveted for the great Grenville collection 
 at Stowe. Sir Richard had had the panels 
 set in tastefully carved wood frames, painted 
 blue and gold. 
 
 A few brief remarks on the subjects of 
 the sculptures, and I have done with this 
 chapter. 
 
 The subjects were Biblical. The selec- 
 tion was curious, and of a nature to justify, 
 perhaps, in some measure, Mr Wilson's im- 
 putation of ^^ impiety." 
 
 The artist had chosen for illustration 
 exclusively historic passages from the Old 
 Testament, apparently difficult to reconcile 
 with the purer and kindlier spirit of the 
 new dispensation. 
 
 There was represented, for instance, the 
 massacre of the Shechemites ; the massa- 
 cre of Jericho ; the stoning of Achan and 
 his family in the valley of Achor ; the tor- 
 turing of the people of Rabbah ; and so 
 forth, all the other subjects being chosen 
 after the same pattern.
 
 97 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A HOUSE WARMING. 
 
 The mansion was finished by the be- 
 ofinnino^ of 1826. But it took an additional 
 four weeks to complete the internal ap- 
 pointments and arrangements, and to 
 put everything in the state described in 
 the last chapter. When all was ready at 
 last, Sir Richard resolved to celebrate the 
 event in a manner and style befitting the 
 greatness of the occasion, by giving a 
 house-warming feast of unprecedented 
 splendour. 
 
 Wednesday, the 8th February, was the 
 day fixed for the feast. The invitations 
 were sent out a fortnight before. 
 
 It was the banker's wish, of course, that 
 all his family should be around him on this 
 auspicious occasion. But it so happened,
 
 98 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 by a strange fatality, that both his sons 
 were called suddenly to the Continent on 
 important affairs, two days before the ap- 
 pointed time ; and Sir William Davenant 
 sent word that he could not leave Davenant 
 Hall before the middle of the month. 
 
 It was too late then to make any alter- 
 ation in the day, so Sir Richard was 
 naturally compelled to make up his mind 
 to divide the entire burden of the reception 
 between himself and his sister. 
 
 Had the affairs alluded to not been of 
 a most urgent nature. Sir Richard would 
 certainly not have consented to let either 
 of his sons go away from him just then. 
 
 It so happened that the Emperor Alex- 
 ander of Russia having just been carried off 
 by one of those sudden fatal attacks of ill- 
 ness, to which the princes of the house of 
 Romanow Delmenhorst seem somehow to 
 be more particularly liable, his affectionate 
 brother and successor Nicolas, who had, like 
 Jacob of old, craftily despoiled poor Esau 
 Constantino of his birthright, bethought
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 99 
 
 him, no doubt with a view to divert his mind 
 from the deep grief over the loss of a be- 
 loved brother, what a desirable thing it 
 would be to snatch a few more provinces 
 from the Persian Empire — that incorrigible 
 lamb that will somehow always persist in 
 troubling the clear waters of the stream to 
 which the Russian wolf goes to drink. But 
 as war is rather an expensive luxury, and 
 the State Treasury of Russia is generally not 
 overstocked with Montecuculi's indispensa- 
 ble nervus rerum^ the Czar was led to apply 
 for a small advance of cash to his very good 
 friends Baron Louis Stieglitz of St Peters- 
 burg, and Mr Adrian Hope of Amsterdam. 
 The latter gentleman, though quite dis- 
 posed to look upon the application with a 
 favourable eye, yet was desirous of secur- 
 ing the co-operation of a reputable Eng- 
 lish house ; he accordingly asked Ellesdee 
 and Co. to join in the affair, requesting, 
 as a particular favour, that either Sir 
 Richard or his son should come over to 
 him at once to agree upon the conditions to
 
 100 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 be proposed to the Russian Government, 
 as he himself was most unfortunately laid 
 up with a fit of the gout just then, which 
 of course put his going over to London en- 
 tirely out of the question. And as the 
 matter could be properly treated only 
 between the heads of the Houses, and would 
 not brook a day's delay, Mr Eichard Elles- 
 dee was compelled to start at once. 
 
 Louis Ellesdee's maternal grandfather, 
 the Baron Van der Capellen, had returned, 
 in 1813, from his exile in England to Hol- 
 land, where he entered the naval service 
 again, and gained much distinction, more 
 particularly in the bombardment of Algiers 
 in 1816. He subsequently retired from 
 the service, and died in 1824 at Brussels, 
 leaving a widow. 
 
 The Baroness, Louis' maternal grand- 
 mother, doted on her grandson. Li the 
 beginning of February, 1826, she was 
 taken suddenly and alarmingly ill, and in 
 a few days it became clear that she could 
 not possibly escape with life.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 101 
 
 As she longed to see her beloved grand- 
 son once more this side the grave, her 
 attendants at once sent the information 
 over to England to Sir Richard. It was 
 this sad news wliich determined the sud- 
 den departm^e of the banker's younger 
 son. 
 
 The eventful day rose in due course of 
 time. The preparations for the grand fes- 
 tival were on a scale of unprecedented and 
 unparalleled magnificence. Sixty persons 
 had been invited to dinner, more than five 
 hundred to the ball, and to the splendid 
 cmibigu which was to be served at two 
 o'clock in the morning. 
 
 With the earliest dawn of day every 
 member of the household was up and 
 doing. 
 
 At nine o'clock Sir Richard left for 
 Lombard Street, where his personal pre- 
 sence was required by business of an 
 urgent and important nature, which would 
 be sure to detain him till a late hour in 
 the afternoon. However, he promised his
 
 102 THE OLD LEDGEPw. 
 
 sister to be back by half-past six — seven 
 being the hour fixed for the dinner. 
 
 The key to the door of the muniment 
 room, in which the gorgeous family plate 
 was stored, was solemnly intrusted to the 
 hands of the head butler, an extremely 
 pursy and puffy old gentleman, who had 
 now been above 45 years in the family, 
 and looked upon himself quite as a mem- 
 ber of it, and as a co-partner in the bank. 
 He was respectfully addressed by the serv- 
 ants as Mr Ellison ; i\Iiss Maria Theresia 
 Ellesdee and the two sons of the house 
 called him Ellison ; Sir Richard alone was 
 granted the liberty of calling him by his 
 Christian name, Jonathan. He was most 
 faithfully and most affectionately attached 
 to the family he had served so long — a rare 
 specimen of the glorious old type of re- 
 tainers, well-nigh altogether out of print 
 now-a-days, w^hich abounded in those days 
 of yore when domestic service was not 
 held merely a dry matter of contract for la- 
 bour on the one, board and wages on the
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 103 
 
 other side, but when both master and servant 
 would throw in a little heart into the bar- 
 gain. But then we, in our generation, are 
 so much wiser now — we know better than 
 to try to turn a dependant into a friend ! 
 
 When talking of the belongings, pro- 
 perty, and possessions of ^' the family," 
 Mr Ellison would generously allow to 
 others a right of share in most of the items. 
 Thus he would say, our bank, our house, our 
 carriage, our furniture, our pictures, our serv- 
 ants, our sons, and even our Madam ; but 
 there were two items of which he claimed 
 the exclusive property. He never spoke of 
 Sir Richard but as my master, nor of the 
 family plate except as my plate. 
 
 With regard to the latter article he was 
 an absolute monopolist, jealous of his 
 rights. No servant ever dared to touch a 
 piece of it without Mr Ellison's express 
 command or permission. He would see it 
 cleaned under his personal supervision. 
 He violently suspected even the guests of 
 the house of dishonourable intentions, and
 
 104 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 kept the strictest watcli over tlie table. 
 Indeed, he was a monomaniac upon this 
 point. No miser ever tended his treasure 
 with more anxious and more tender care. 
 
 In Grosvenor Square he could never 
 be induced to sleep out of the pantry, 
 where he placed his bed over the principal 
 chest which contained the most valuable 
 part of the plate. He never went far 
 away from the house if he could help 
 it ; and he would start home from the 
 Grosvenor Arms round the corner, leaving 
 his glass half emptied, to look after '^ his 
 property. " But in Grosvenor Square there 
 had been kept only a small portion of 
 the family plate, sufficient for general re- 
 quirements ; the other much more import- 
 ant 2:)ortion had of course been secured in 
 the bank-cellars, in Lombard Street. 
 
 Now, in the new mansion, Sir Richard 
 had had a muniment room constructed for 
 the express purpose of storing there the 
 whole of his plate, together with the
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 105 
 
 splendid collection of cups, goblets, and 
 bowls handed down from father to son 
 as a precious heir-loom since the days of 
 the great goldsmith, and which Sir Richard 
 had enriched still by some most valuable 
 additions ; chiefest among them the famous 
 silver goblet made by Benvenuto Cellini 
 during his sojourn at the Hotel de Nesle 
 in France, for which Master Lecamus, the 
 celebrated Court Furrier and Syndic of the 
 Worshipful Corporation of Furriers in Paris, 
 in the reigns of Henry 11., Francis H., and 
 Charles IX., had paid the large sum of 
 2000 dollars, and which he had subse- 
 quently presented to King Charles IX. 
 This clief-d'' ceuvre of the great master of 
 the art of chasing had remained in the 
 possession of the royal family of France 
 till the time of the Revolution, when it 
 shared the general fate of the property of 
 the Crown. Sir Richard had purchased it 
 from a member of the notorious Black 
 Band, in France, for the comparatively tri-
 
 106 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 fling sum of £500 sterling. He would 
 certainly not have parted with it again 
 for £5000. 
 
 Well, when the butler had the evening 
 before the great festival been directed to 
 place the plate chest, which had hitherto 
 been kept under his exclusive guardianship, 
 in the muniment room, together with the 
 rest, dire forebodings of a coming calamit- 
 ous catastrophe had taken possession of his 
 soul, and a depressing anxiety had weighed 
 all night on his mind, lest '^ his property" 
 should now have passed from him for ever, 
 and should be handed over in future to 
 the ^^inefficient" care of ^^ Madam," who 
 had taken the key. Judge, then, of his 
 glad and grateful surprise when, on the 
 morning of the auspicious day, Sir Richard 
 confidingly intrusted to his hands the key 
 to the door of the muniment room, and 
 invested him solemnly with the sole guard- 
 ianship of the treasures stored tlierein ! It 
 was the proudest moment of his life. An 
 immediate annuity of £1000 would not
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 107 
 
 have made him the one hundredth part so 
 happy as this ^'recovery" of ^^his pro- 
 perty," increased more than thirty -fold. 
 
 Under the able and energetic guidance 
 of this high officer of the household the 
 preparations for the glories of the even- 
 ing and night proceeded in the most 
 satisfactory manner, and by two o'clock in 
 the afternoon everything was ready for 
 the reception of the company, except, of 
 course, in the culinary department ; here 
 also, however, all preliminaries w^ere pro- 
 perly arranged to ensure the '^ minute "-st 
 punctuality in the service of the table. 
 
 A few of the more intimate friends of the 
 family had been invited to a private view 
 of the mansion. These arrived between 
 two and three o'clock, and were received 
 in solemn state by Madam. They were 
 the Duke and Duchess of Dashshire, the 
 Lord Chancellor of England and Lady 
 Eldon, the Earl and Countess Cowper, 
 Mr William Lamb, Lord John Russell, and 
 Lord Palmerston, the Master of the Rolls,
 
 108 THE OLD t^EDGER. 
 
 Sir John Singleton Copley, and the Right 
 Hon. George Canning. 
 
 The Duke of Dashshire was a young 
 man of 31, of tall stature and com- 
 manding presence, with regular straight- 
 cut features, clear grey eyes, fair curly 
 chestnut liair, slightly auburn whiskers, 
 and, somewhat against the fashion of the 
 period, short, light, silky mustaches, which 
 did not interfere in the least with tlie full 
 display of a faultless set of teeth. There 
 was an expression of aristocratic hauteur 
 about the face, tempered and corrected 
 however by an unmistakeable air of hearty 
 frankness and kind affability. He was a 
 fine sample of the best type of our Norman 
 nobility — a duke every inch, and every inch 
 a gentleman. 
 
 He was a thorough-bred and most 
 accomplished cavalier. With Madam he 
 was a great favourite, and one of the few 
 to whom she would occasionally unbend. 
 
 Besides being Duke of Dashshire, he 
 was also a Marquis, Earl, Viscount, and
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 109 
 
 Baron, of however so many places and 
 creations, — in short, he bore a perfect 
 rosary of titles. In France he was Duke 
 of Chateauroux (created 1552). He was 
 also a Prince of the Holy Eoman Em- 
 pire. 
 
 He had estates in almost every county, 
 and his rent-roll showed an annual revenue 
 of some £250,000. 
 
 He banked with the house of Ellesdee 
 and Co., who held some £300,000 of 
 his, in money and securities, on the deposit 
 account, which dated from the time of his 
 grandfather, and had never been disturbed 
 since in his father's time, whom he had suc- 
 ceeded in his titles and estates only three 
 years before. 
 
 His princely revenue he spent in a 
 princely way ; very different from but too 
 many of our over- wealthy territorial lords, 
 who would seem bent only upon heaping 
 the Pelion of the far greater portion of 
 their enormous revenues upon the Ossa of 
 their immense actual possessions — to storm
 
 110 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 luJiat Olympus, it is difficult to conceive or 
 to guess. 
 
 The proprietary and the wealth of a 
 land — the great territorial lords and the 
 princes of commerce and industry — may, 
 in a measure, be compared to the heart in 
 the human body. Every organ, every 
 limb, every muscle, every sinew, every 
 nerve of the frame, is incessantly employed 
 in procuring, producing, and supplying to 
 the heart the rich stream of life ; but the 
 heart retains nought of what it thus re- 
 ceives, but sends it forth again through 
 the body, even to its extremest ends. 
 Were the central organ to retain the 
 greater portion of what it receives, the 
 economy of life could not be carried on 
 long : hypertrophy of the heart and atrophy 
 of the extremities would be the inevitable 
 result, which must as inevitably lead sooner 
 or later to the death of the whole. It is 
 the same in the body social and politic. 
 Agriculture has not inaptly been termed 
 the milk of a land ; money, the great
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. Ill 
 
 circulating medium, may certainly with 
 equal aptness be called the Mood of our 
 present social system. — A word to the 
 wise — 
 
 The Duchess of Dashshire was a French 
 woman, a portionless daughter of the noble 
 house of Choiseul-Stainville. The Duke 
 had met her in Paris at one of the 
 Court Balls given in celebration of King 
 Charles X.'s coronation. She was a small 
 woman, but of the utmost perfection of 
 shape, and surpassingly beautiful features, 
 most graceful and elegant manners, and 
 most highly accomplished. All these great 
 personal advantages were marred, however, 
 by her overbearing pride and sarcastic dis- 
 position. The haughty glance of her 
 cold bright eyes had something truly re- 
 pellant in it. 
 
 It was with great difficulty, indeed, 
 that the Duke had succeeded in inducing 
 her to accept the banker's invitation. 
 She would persist in looking upon Sir 
 Richard Ellesdee as a ^^ farvenu^ one of
 
 112 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 the ^' vulgar rich," wliom she had been 
 taught by her own ruined family, from 
 the earliest days of her infancy, to hate 
 and despise. 
 
 Yet, strange to say, between her and 
 Miss Maria Theresia Ellesdee there was 
 not only peace, but actually a kind of di- 
 lute friendship. The Duchess looked upon 
 Madam solely and exclusively as the god- 
 daughter of an Empress-Queen and of a 
 high-born Princess, and left all collateral 
 considerations altogether out of sight; much 
 in the same way that collectors of books 
 will occasionally pay high prices for books 
 of no intrinsic value, simply for the sake of 
 the autograph of some distinguished cha- 
 racter which happens to grace the ily-lcaf. 
 
 Little need be said about the other 
 parties, save that that most distinguished 
 diner-out, Mr William Lamb, appeared even 
 more than usually agreeable, affable, and 
 accourt; his /w^wrc brother-in-law, the viva- 
 cious Viscount Palmerston, looked just as 
 nimble and jaunty, and almost as yoimg, as
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 113 
 
 he does at this present day — a trifle of some 
 39 years after. 
 
 Lord John looked ^^ chippy" and con- 
 fident as ever, and ready for any under- 
 taking, from lithotomy to the command of 
 the Channel fleet. Mr William Lamb and 
 Lord John Kussell were at the time leaders 
 of the Opposition to the Administration of 
 the day. But Sir Richard Ellesdee, though 
 among the chiefest and stoutest supporters 
 of the party in power, kept always on excel- 
 lent terms with the most prominent mem- 
 bers of the Opposition. Indeed, as he 
 belonged altogether to the more liberal 
 section of the Tories under the immediate 
 leadership of Canning, it was simply sound 
 policy on his part to show a favourable 
 leaning to the other side. Hence the in- 
 vitation to the two distinguished states- 
 men. 
 
 Canning's early arrival on the occasion 
 was intended by tlic great minister, partly 
 as a mark of the high esteem in which he 
 held the banker, partly as a feeler to see
 
 114: THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 how the pubHc would receive the rumour 
 of the approaching appointment of Sir 
 Richard Ellesdee to the Chancellorship of 
 the Exchequer, a rumour to which this 
 \dsit was of com-se calculated to give con- 
 siderable consistency. 
 
 The great minister, who had never 
 before been in Miss Maria Theresia Elles- 
 dee's august presence, quite gained the 
 good graces of that proud lady by the 
 charming courtesy of his address and his 
 deferential bearing towards her. 
 
 The Master of the Rolls looked as lean, 
 keen, and sarcastic as was his wont. He 
 was then 54, and seemed to have reached 
 the highest step of the ladder of law to 
 which he might aspire. Yet Lord Eldon 
 looked upon him with a kind of foreboding 
 jealous apprehension, which was to be fully 
 justified by the event in the brief space of 
 one short year. 
 
 The distinguished party, assembled in 
 the drawing-room, proceeded upon their 
 tour of inspection over the mansion. Some
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 115 
 
 little delay was occasioned by the ever 
 doubting, never deciding Lord Chancellor^ 
 who, finding a gallery to the right, another 
 to the left, hesitated several minutes which 
 of the two to enter first. At last he made 
 up his mind for the picture-gallery, a choice 
 w^hich, though the great legal dignitary as 
 well as his parsimonious wife, who was 
 dressed in a marvellous peach-coloured 
 velvet gown of the middle of last century, 
 might have been considered, perchance^ as 
 '' pictures" well worth looking at, was yet 
 against the eternal fitness of things, accord- 
 ing to which the gallery of antiquities 
 would have been the more appropriate 
 place to go to first ; for certainly rare anti- 
 quities did both of them look, though by 
 no means antiques. 
 
 From the galleries and the drawing- 
 room the party proceeded to the upper 
 story, and finally to the ground-floor, where 
 they inspected more particularly the spa- 
 cious dining-hall, and the muniment room 
 with its ricli treasures.
 
 116 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 The dining-hall was 48 feet long by 
 24 feet wide. Here Sir Richard had placed 
 the family portraits, some 40 in number. 
 Strange enough, the first portrait, appa- 
 rently opening the ancestral line, was 
 that of the Baron Busli-Bellisle, placed 
 there upon vjhat principle, it would not 
 have been perhaps quite easy for the 
 worthy Baronet to state. There is a 
 curious hankering occasionally after the 
 '^ drop of noble blood," difficult to account 
 for. 
 
 The tables were fully laid and appa- 
 relled, and the Ellesdee plate appeared in 
 all its lustrous glory. 
 
 The table-cloths were of the largest 
 size, made at the famous damask manufac- 
 tory in Gross-Schonau, Upper Lusace. 
 They were quite unique, as Sir Richard 
 had had them made to order. The flowers 
 were woven in silk instead of linen, and 
 set off by gold and silver threads. The 
 borders were profusely adorned with ara- 
 besques in silk, also richly set off by gold
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 117 
 
 and silver; the napkins were made to 
 match, — the J were a full yard square. 
 
 The furniture and appointments of the 
 dining-hall were of the time of Louis XIV. 
 On one of the side-boards was placed the 
 banker's famous dinner set of old Saxon 
 porcelain, which dated from 1713, and 
 bore the well-known mark of the two 
 swords in gold. 
 
 This service of course was not in- 
 tended for actual use, but simply to excite 
 the admiration of the guests. 
 
 The display of wealth, apparently un- 
 bounded, in the banker's mansion, seemed 
 to rouse the difficultly-contained ire in the 
 fair bosom of the Duchess of Dashshire. 
 When the party finally left the ground- 
 floor to re-ascend to the drawing-room, 
 she whispered in the Duke's ear in French 
 (recourse to her native tongue being with 
 the Duchess mostly a sign of anger or 
 vexation), — 
 
 ^^ Mais ce vil parvenu veut done nous 
 (^eraser de son luxe. D'oii peut lui venir
 
 118 TRE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 cette fortune gigantesque, si insolemment 
 etalee et paradee dovant nous ?" 
 
 The Duke frowned slightly, and slowly 
 ascending tlie broad granite steps of the 
 magnificent staircase so as to keep some- 
 what in the rear of the other personages, 
 he replied, in the same language and in as 
 low a whisper, yet with intense emphasis, — 
 
 ^^ Madame, on ne doit pas traitor de 
 ^ vil parvenu ' un homme de la trempe de 
 notre liote. Sachez le bien, Madame, dans un 
 pays comme le notre, ou le gros commerce 
 et la haute banque sent assis, pour ainsi 
 dire, sur les marches du trone, on doit 
 s'abstenir de faire de ces reflexions-la, sur- 
 tout sur des gens comme Sir Richard 
 Ellesdee, qui d'ailleurs sera bientot .Mi- 
 nistre, et que la paiiue attend. Veuillez 
 aussi vous souvenir, Madame, que ce ' vil 
 parvenu ' est de mes amis, et que j'e 7?i'Iionore 
 de son aniitit. Du reste, Madame, vous 
 devez sentir que ce n'est pas bien bon genre 
 de laisser paraitre uuc si vive irritation a
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 119 
 
 la vue des tri^sors d'autrui que vous venez 
 de le faire." 
 
 Rarely yet had the Duke of Dashshire 
 spoken so sternly and severely to his wife ; 
 she acutely felt the rebuke contained more 
 especially in his last words ; but she had 
 the good sense also to feel the truth and 
 justice of her husband's observations. So, 
 with a charming air of contrition, she 
 said to him in English, ^' Pardon me, dear- 
 est Maurice. It was very wrong of me, 
 I know, to say what I did. But if you 
 will only pardon me I promise you I will 
 be so good now, and so amiable to your 
 friend — for your sake, dear," she added 
 after a short pause. 
 
 '^ Ah ! dearest Aurelia," cried the 
 Duke, made supremely happy by this most 
 agreeable change in his wife's demeanour, 
 '^ if you would only always — but never 
 mind, darling ! Besides," he added, some- 
 what inconsistently, it must be confessed, 
 ^' after all, tue are m rcalitji much richer
 
 120 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 than Sir Ricliarcl. Ijut now for the draw- 
 ing-room." 
 
 It was by this time half-i)ast six, the 
 hour at which Sir Richard had faithfully 
 promised his sister to return to receive his 
 guests. These began to arrive shortly 
 after ; yet Sir Richard did not make his 
 appearance. 
 
 Among the first arrivals were the 
 Prime Minister and Mr Peel, the Secretary 
 for the Home Dej)artment ; the Duke of 
 Wellington and Lord Sidmouth, the Bishop 
 
 of and the Dean of "Westminster ; 
 
 Dr Duttall, the banker's family physician, 
 and Dr Andrew Ure, the great Scotch che- 
 mist, then on a visit to London ; ]\Ir Jones 
 Loyd, the eminent banker, and Mr, or rather 
 Baron, ^ Nathan Rothschild, the great He- 
 
 * AnselmJ Eothschild, the eldest-born of Mayer 
 Anselm's five sons, and chief of the Frankfort House, 
 received his patent of nobilit}"- in 1815, from the 
 hands of Francis I., Emperor of Austria, that cold, 
 cruel despot and astutest of politicians, wlio, whilst 
 holding the reins firmly in his own hands, made the 
 world believe that it was Metternich who governed ;
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 121 
 
 brew Plutocrat and Consul- General of 
 Austria in England, who looked every 
 inch — a Rothschild and an Austrian Con- 
 sul- General. 
 
 Though the two eminent financiers 
 
 and wlio played Metternicli against Kolowrat, Kolo- 
 wrat against Metternicb, in the cunningly adjusted 
 see-saw of his crafty policy ; who hid the fierce, yet 
 slow and humorous cruelty of his disposition under 
 an air of false honliommie ; who had the plan of the 
 Spielberg every morning placed on his breakfast-table, 
 Avith the governor's report of the sufferings of the 
 inmate of every individual cell, that he might gloat 
 over them ! When tlie good Emperor bestowed this 
 signal mark of his august favour upon the Frankfort 
 banker, divers evil-disposed persons more than insinu- 
 ated that " valuable consideration " had been given 
 and received for the patent. They went even so far 
 as to have a " Commemoration Medal" struck, bearing 
 on the face a likeness of the good man Erancis, 
 throwing his long arms with effusion around a 
 number of money-bags, with the inscription, " Ich 
 umfass' Euch, Millionen ! " taken from Schiller's im- 
 mortal " Ode to Joy ; " on the reverse, which, it must 
 be confessed, bordered slightly on the blasphemous, a 
 likeness of the man Anselm, with a kite lighting 
 upon him, and the inscription " Dies ist mein lieber 
 Sohn, an dem ich Wohlgefallen habe." — In the year 
 1822, the five brothers were made Barons of the Em- 
 pire.
 
 122 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 happened to arrive at the same time, and 
 though there passed between them " a 
 mutual glance of great politeness," and a 
 positive struggle for yielding the precedency 
 at the foot of the staircase, yet this was 
 but a hollow truce on neutral ground ; for 
 feelings of the bitterest hostilility raged 
 between the Welsh Capulet and the Frank- 
 fort Montagu. 
 
 There was an ugly rumour abroad that 
 last year at the height of the crisis, the 
 Baron had tried to ^^ sell" his dear friend 
 and '' fellow-banker," by one of those stra- 
 tagems which may, indeed, be held fair in 
 love and in war, but are altogether inex- 
 cusable in cases where neitlier exists be- 
 tween the parties concerned. The shrewd- 
 ness of old Jones Loyd had baffled the 
 little speculation ; but soreness remained 
 behind on both sides ; the one could not 
 forget the attempt, the other could not for- 
 give the failure. 
 
 The conversation in the drawing-room 
 was, of course, after the general pattern of
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 123 
 
 the usual interchange of cold civilities and 
 neutral remarks about the weather and 
 things in general, which serve well enough 
 to fill up the brief expectant pause before 
 the welcome announcement that ^' dinner 
 is served." 
 
 By ten minutes to seven all the guests had 
 arrived — yet no host! The banker prided 
 himself upon the most punctilious punctu- 
 ality; never yet had he been known to 
 keep an appointment waiting, even for the 
 brief space of a minute. This extraordin- 
 ary departure from his invariable rule 
 caused some surprise, then, and to Miss 
 Ellesdee no slight anxiety. She recollected 
 however that Sir Richard had intended to 
 stop a few minutes, on his way home, at a 
 curiosity shop, in St Martin's Lane, to look 
 at a set of Etruscan vases, and it suddenly 
 occurred to her that his mania for antiqui- 
 ties had, in all probability, for once gained 
 a complete victory over his mania for 
 punctuality; which, it must be admitted, 
 was most untoward and awkward under the
 
 124 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 peculiar circumstances of this day above 
 all other days, and most galling to her 
 pride. When this tliought crossed her 
 mind, she could not forbear rising from 
 her seat, with a gesture of impatience and 
 an air of vexation, — exclaiming, ^^ This is 
 too bad of Sir Richard ! He — " when the 
 door was hastily thrown open^ and in 
 rushed the pursy old butler, pale and 
 trembling, his face horror-struck, and the 
 cold beads of persj^iration running from 
 his brow, and chasing after the scalding 
 tears rolling from his eyes, and sobbed 
 forth in a voice almost inarticulate with 
 grief, ^^Oh! Ma-a-dam ! Ma-a-dam ! My 
 M-Master ! my poo-oor M-Master ! ''
 
 125 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ON THE WAY HOME. 
 
 ; i:jf WHICH THE BANKER PEOPOSES AND GOD 
 
 DISPOSES. 
 
 Sir Richard had of late ^'experienced" 
 a certain tendency to stoutness, rather a 
 natural thing, one would think, in a man 
 of his age, and with his style of living. 
 Unfortunately man is not always inclined 
 to admit nature's wisdom in all her doings. 
 He has a notion that he can improve upon 
 her; so he will, for instance, dock his 
 dog's tail and ears to make the animal 
 look more handsome, regardless of the pain, 
 and stupidly ignorant of the injury he 
 inflicts upon the poor beast. 
 
 It was upon some such principle that 
 Sir Richard, when he discovered this 
 tendency to. what he considered an undue
 
 126 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 abdominal development, resolved to take 
 measures to put his rebellious belly down, 
 or, at least, to keep it down and to contain 
 it, if possible, au majestueux, as Brillat- 
 Savarin calls it. 
 
 Now, at that time, the great Banting 
 had not yet arisen (it is enough that every 
 age should have its own follies ; and Heaven 
 knows, the decade from 1820 — 1830 had 
 ample and to spare of them, and certainly 
 needed not adding unto them the curious 
 system devised by the ^^ reduced" under- 
 taker for the benefit of mankind, and in 
 the interest of his trade, to '^ bring down" 
 fat people to more manageable propor- 
 tions — for the coffin). 
 
 When Sir Richard iirst consulted upon 
 this matter his physician and friend, Dr 
 Duttall, better known at the time as Dr 
 Doubtall, from his utter disbelief in the 
 faculty, and his thorough rejection of all 
 medical systems, old or new, speciously 
 ingenious or glaringly absurd, — that most 
 unaccommodating physician had told his
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 127 
 
 would-be patient, plainly and roundly, as 
 was his wont, to ^' let well alone, and not 
 make a d — d fool of himself." 
 
 However, when the banker returned to 
 the charge again and again, the doctor, 
 dreading lest he should consult any of his 
 brethren of the faculty, promised at last 
 to take the case in hand, which he did by 
 prescribing a tumbler of pump water morn- 
 ing, noon, and night, and horse exercise. 
 
 Thus it came to pass that the banker 
 took to ridino^ on horseback from his 
 mansion in the morning and on his return 
 from the bank at night. For his steed he 
 had purchased one of the gentlest and 
 surest-footed mares, in fact, the easiest- 
 paced pad going. This gentle animal bore 
 the name of the fierce Scythian Queen 
 Tom^rris, most likely because there was 
 not a bit of fierceness or vice about her. 
 
 On the back of Tomyris, then, the 
 banker had left his mansion on the morn- 
 ing of the eventful 8th February, and on 
 the back of the same docile steed lie left
 
 128 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 the bank about half-past four o'clock in the 
 afternoon of the same day, riding gently 
 along down Cheapside, Newgate Street, 
 and Skinner Street, up Holborn Hill, and 
 High Holborn, where lie had a short call 
 to make ; then turning from Broad Street 
 into Great St Andrew's Street, and so 
 into St Martin's Lane, where he looked at 
 the Etruscan vases. These happened to 
 be truly fine specimens of ancient art, and 
 were offered at a comparatively moderate 
 price. So Sir Richard purchased them at 
 once, and gave directions to forward them 
 to Park Lane, with all duo and proper care, 
 the first thing in the morning. 
 
 His bargain concluded. Sir Richard 
 mounted again. It was then about a 
 quarter to six, and there was ample time 
 to reach Park Lane by the hour appointed. 
 So Sir Richard slowly walked the mare 
 down the lane towards what liad not yet 
 become then one of the finest sites in 
 Europe — spoiled. The monstrous scallops 
 trying to play at imitation fountains, and
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 129 
 
 the Ugly statues of Alvanley's ^^ fat friend" 
 and of the brave commander placed there 
 to keep that '^ British worthy" in proper 
 countenance, did not yet grace the sloping 
 flat now kno wn as Trafalgar Square ; nor 
 was the column even designed yet on the 
 top of which a grateful nation has since 
 ^^ mast-headed " the heroic Nelson. The 
 old sea-lion was not looking out yet from 
 his elevated solitude, as he has since been 
 doing for many a long year now, for the 
 promised arrival of those Landseer lions 
 which, let us hope, it may be the happy 
 fate of a not too remote posterity to ad- 
 mire at last in the pride of their perfection. 
 
 Of course these were not the thoughts 
 that passed through Sir Richard's brain 
 just then. The banker felt at that mo- 
 ment supremely happy. He was at peace 
 with the world and with himself There 
 rose in his mind one of those bright day- 
 dreams in which man will occasionally 
 delight to indulge. 
 
 Even as late as yesterday he had pro- 
 
 VOL. I. 9
 
 130 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 pounded his iinaiicial reform plan to Mr 
 Peel, who had lent a favourable ear to the 
 clear exposition of the banker's statesman- 
 like views, and had actually promised to 
 ^^ bring Lord Bexley and Mr Huskisson 
 round '' to the same way of thinking. 
 Canning was gained over already, and 
 through him Lord Liverpool. There would 
 be no difficulty then of obtaining the so 
 much coveted liigli position in the Ministry, 
 more particularly as Mr Huskisson was 
 personally most strongly inclined in favour 
 of a more liberal commercial policy. Then 
 he saw in glorious perspective before him 
 how the King would delight to honour 
 him, and how he would be made a peer 
 of the realm, and would take his proud 
 position as one of the great barons of the 
 land, such as the Baron Busli-Bellisle had 
 been some three centuries and a half before. 
 And with this bright procession of 
 glories to come racing through his brain, 
 he revolved mighty projects of purchasing 
 large estates and creating entails for both
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 131 
 
 liis sons, and becoming thus the new 
 founder, as it were, of two great families. 
 
 But man proposes and Grod disposes — 
 and it is, perhaps, as well it should be so ; 
 for had man the disposing as he has the 
 proposing, it might perchance, after all, 
 turn out a sorry world to live in, my 
 masters ! 
 
 Behold yon stately old chieftain on 
 horseback, surrounded by a numerous and 
 brilliant suite, cantering round the walls 
 of the small city of Colle, in Benevent — 
 time 1439, in the latter part of the year. 
 Jacob Caldora is that chieftain's name. He 
 is Duke of Bari, though he careth not for 
 the title. He has the reputation of being 
 the most experienced among the crowd of 
 able leaders abounding in those war-tossed 
 times. Castles unnumbered and wealth 
 untold are his. Thousands of the best 
 troops of the age follow his banner. Yet 
 is his greed insatiable. The harness of 
 his horses and the covers of his chariots 
 arc inscribed with this significant motto :
 
 132 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 '' Coelum coeli Domino, tcrram autem dedit 
 filiis hominum," with this interpretation, 
 however, understood that the filii are but 
 a limited number, and that Jacob Caldora 
 stands chiefest among them ! Behold him, 
 how he j)roudly rises in his stirrups, and 
 pointing in the direction of the fair city 
 of Naples, boasts that he will soon enter 
 there as conqueror, and drive back to his 
 Catalonian mountains the Arragonese Ban- 
 dit — so it pleases him to call King Al- 
 phonso. 
 
 ^^ Ay," exclaimeth he, turning to Count 
 Altavilla, who rides by his side, ^^I have 
 lived 70 years, yet my sinews remain as 
 strong, my nerves as unshaken as ever. I 
 feel in me all the youthful vigour of 25 ! " 
 
 And behold ! while the last word of 
 the proud boast has barely yet winged its 
 flight from the lips that have given it ut- 
 terance, those lips turn pale with the 
 paleness of death. His faithful retainers 
 rush up to receive in their supporting arms 
 what tuas Jacob Caldora !
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 133 
 
 Yea, in the midst of life — 
 
 So whilst the banker is thus buildhig 
 his airy castles, the Supreme Disposer of 
 Events hath disposed much otherwise, and 
 in His own inscrutable way hath He ap- 
 pointed and sent forth His agents to work 
 His own inscrutable will. 
 
 In one of the brightest productions of 
 Zschokke's genius, ^'' Ruckioirkiingen^'' the 
 Great Wizard of Magdeburg has endea- 
 voured to trace back, with logical acute- 
 ness, through a marvellous but thoroughl}^ 
 natural concatenation of causes and effects, 
 the real and determining cause of the par- 
 ticipation of France in the seven-years' 
 war to some whim of a Paris shoeblack, if 
 my memory serves me right. 
 
 But this is a tour de force which genius 
 alone may be permitted to attempt with- 
 out the sure penalty of ignominious failure. 
 Fortunately, however, for me, truth, so 
 much stranger than fiction, is also so much 
 simpler, and requires so many fewer links 
 in the chain, that I think I may safely
 
 134 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 venture upon the narration of my little 
 chapter of ^' RilchvirJcunf/en.''^ 
 
 In one of the lower courts leading out 
 into St Martin's Lane there lived at that 
 time, uj^on the same floor of the same 
 tenement, two children of the Emerald 
 Isle, both undoubted Milesians, one male, 
 the other female. 
 
 Mr Patrick Maloney occupied the front, 
 Mrs Nelly Moriarty the back room on the 
 third floor of the said tenement. 
 
 Mrs Moriarty, a lone widow, warm- 
 hearted but awfully hot-tempered, rejoiced 
 in the possession of a brindled cat of 
 splendid proportions, to which she was 
 much attached. 
 
 Mr Patrick Maloney rejoiced exclu- 
 sively in the indulgence in those creature 
 comforts which he found it in his reach to 
 procure for the sole gratification of his 
 own individual appetite. He had only 
 lately returned from America, where he 
 had grafted the Yankee upon the Milesian, 
 which certainly could not be held an im-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 135 
 
 provement. He was simply a thoroughly 
 selfish beast, without one true human sym- 
 pathy, one generous spring of action about 
 him. 
 
 It so happened that Mrs Moriarty had 
 gone out in the afternoon of the eventful 
 day, and Tabby of course took advantage 
 of her mistress' absence to pay visits to her 
 friends and neighbours. 
 
 Now it also so happened that Mr Ma- 
 loney had resolved, on the same eventful 
 afternoon, to treat his beloved carcase to 
 the delicacy of a bloater, nicely done over 
 the glowing embers of his own chimney 
 fire. 
 
 It also so happened that, when he had 
 just put that most interesting of the multi- 
 tudinous members of the great family of 
 the Clupece down on the embers, he felt 
 suddenly but imperatively called upon to 
 leave the room. 
 
 In his haste he left the door open. 
 Miss Tabby, attracted by the savoury smell 
 arising from the incipient broiling of the
 
 136 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 outer teguments of Master Herring, sneak- 
 ed slily into the habitation of her mistress' 
 countryman, though — who can tell ? — per- 
 chance with dire forebodings. 
 
 She hooked the fish. The hot savoury 
 steam arising from it made the cat forget 
 for a time the instinctive dictates of pru- 
 dence. She began eating, — Mr Maloney 
 returned. A glance revealed to him what 
 had happened in his absence. 
 
 Before 230or Tabby could effect her 
 retreat, Mr Maloney, irate beyond such 
 power of expression as is given unto me, 
 had succeeded in shutting the door. — I will 
 not sully these pages with a relation of the 
 *^ struggle," if so it could be called, be- 
 tween the unfortunate cat, who had only 
 obeyed her instinct, and the other brute, a 
 thousand times lotver in the scale of crea- 
 tion, — who, as I do not wish to be unjust, 
 perhaps, after all, simply obeyed his o^^^l 
 bloody instinct. 
 
 Suffice it to say that, about half an hour 
 after, there crept forth, stealthily, as might
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 137 
 
 be expected from his C7mel and coiuard na- 
 ture, the man hrute^ with the dead carcase of 
 23oor Tabby hidden beneath the impro- 
 vised cloak of a blanket thrown romid his 
 shoulders. 
 
 It happened to be a gloomy, foggy even- 
 ing, and it was quite dark in the court at 
 the time. The new system of lighting the 
 streets of the metropolis with gas, intro- 
 duced in 1819, by Winzer, or Winsor^ as 
 the honest German chose to call himself 
 afterwards, had not yet made its way to 
 the courts and alleys, and the dim light of 
 the few oil lamps, which then constituted 
 the whole of the illuminating stock of the 
 locality, simply served to make the dark- 
 ness more visible. 
 
 Mr Maloney having stepped cautiously 
 up to the entrance of the court, flung the 
 inanimate body of poor Tabby right out 
 into the lane. 
 
 At this precise moment Tomyris came 
 ambling past, so that just as she was pass- 
 ing the court, Mr Maloney' s projectile
 
 138 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 caught her with considerable violence on 
 , the side of the head. 
 
 It must be rather startling and by 
 no means pleasant, even to a horse, to be 
 pelted with a dead cat. Tomyris, that 
 gentlest and steadiest of mares, might well 
 be excused, then, if for once in her life 
 she shied and reared, and made a plunge 
 forward. 
 
 Her rider had in his day-dream and 
 self-communings just come to the point of 
 considering whether it would be wise or 
 otherwise to buy landed property in Ire- 
 land, or whether Sir William Davenant 
 might not perhaps be prevailed upon to 
 sell his estate in Lancashire — when the 
 thread of his thoughts was suddenly snapped 
 asunder. 
 
 With his mind far away upon its plea- 
 sant ramble, Sir Richard was sitting his 
 steed quite loosely, with his feet nearly out 
 of the stirrups, and tlie reins ready to slip 
 from his lax grasp. No wonder, then, 
 that when the mare reared and plunged
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 139 
 
 he was lifted from his seat and flung right 
 over the animal's head down on the pave- 
 ment, with his chest pitched with fearful 
 violence against the kerbstone. He lay 
 on the ground quite insensible, with three 
 ribs crushed in on the left side. The mare 
 speedily recovered her self-possession. She 
 stood still by the side of her fallen master, 
 whom she sniffed lovingly, and, by other 
 marks of equine sympathy, attempted to 
 rouse from his stupor. 
 
 The passers-by came of course rushing 
 up from all sides to the scene of the acci- 
 dent, and endeavours were speedily made 
 to raise the prostrate body from the ground, 
 and to get it, at least, in a sitting posture. 
 Water was also sprinkled plentifully on 
 the face to restore the sufferer to conscious- 
 ness. These attempts met with but indiffer- 
 ent success. A variety of opinions were 
 started among the crowd, as to the nature 
 and extent of the injuries received. Some 
 stood up for a broken neck, others for 
 limbs fractured, and of course every one
 
 140 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 was ready to back his own opinion by 
 bets, after the national fashion. 
 
 Some one, more sensible than the rest, 
 suggested the j)ropriety of fetching a shut- 
 ter or a door to place the insensible body 
 on, and carry it to the nearest apothecary's 
 shop. This most practical suggestion met 
 with the general assent of all round, and 
 was at once carried into effect. 
 
 There was at the time a small apothe- 
 cary's shop at the corner of New Street. 
 To this the unhappy sufferer was taken. 
 Unfortunately the master of the shop was 
 out, and the lad, half errand boy, half 
 apprentice, who functioned as his locum 
 tenens in his absence, of course had not the 
 remotest notion how to act in an emero^- 
 ency of this nature. 
 
 Not wishing to get into mischief? 
 he wisely contented himself therefore with 
 expressing an opinion that the gentleman 
 had fainted, and that there was nothing 
 like ^^ Hammoniar " to bring him to again. 
 
 The application of that powerful agent
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 141 
 
 to the nostrils of tlie insensible man seemed 
 indeed to produce the desired effect. The 
 patient groaned deeply, and opened his 
 eyes. But that was all; he relapsed into 
 unconsciousness, and only continued to 
 groan. 
 
 Now, the most sensible thing to do, 
 under the circumstances, would have been 
 to carry the patient to the nearest hospital, 
 where the nature of the injuries received 
 would have been ascertained bv a search- 
 ing examin ation, without further waste of 
 precious time, and where proper measm'es 
 might have been adopted yet in time to 
 remedy the evil. This course was, indeed, 
 advised by the same practical individual 
 who had been the first to suggest the removal 
 to the apothecary's shop ; and it was upon 
 the point of being adopted and followed, 
 when a new actor appeared on the scene. 
 
 By another fatal coincidence in this 
 chain of events it so happened that Dr 
 Johnson, at tliat time one of the shining 
 lights of the faculty, physician in ordinary
 
 142 Till: OIJ) lA'lDGlAL 
 
 to the JJuko of Clarence, and among the 
 most fa.sliionaljle of tlie most fasliionable 
 physicians of tlie metropolis, was riding 
 by in ins carriage. Seeing a large crowd 
 gathered Ijefore an apothecary's shop, he 
 ordered his coachman to stop, and got out 
 to niakc^ inquiries, lie push(;d his way 
 tlirough the crowd, and entered the place. 
 The first glance at the groaning man on. 
 the shutter showed him tliat it was the 
 banker, to whose ball this night Ik; was 
 actually himself invited. ^' Good (jJod!'' 
 he exclaimed, " can it be? Why, it is Sir 
 Richard Ellesdee. What can have hap- 
 pened to him?" Uj)on tliis latter- ])oint 
 he was speedily enlightened by the by- 
 standers. 
 
 He carefully felt Sir Ivlcluird's head, 
 and satisfied himself that there was no 
 fracture there. As the collar-bones ap- 
 peared also to be intact, and a curstjry pal- 
 pation over the limbs failed to disclose any 
 broken bones in them, the Doctoi- was led, 
 rather hastily, to the conclusion thai, un-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 143 
 
 less it should unhappily turn out that there 
 was concussion of the brain or lesion of 
 the vertebral column, Sir Richard had 
 suffered no dangerous injury, and that he 
 had fainted simply from the violence of the 
 shock. Another application of spirit of 
 hartshorn had the effect at last to rouse the 
 patient from his stupor. 
 
 Sir Richard gradually collected his 
 shattered thoughts. He recognized the 
 physician, and expressed his grateful satis- 
 faction at the fortunate chance which had 
 led his medical friend to this spot just at 
 this juncture. He complained of great pain 
 all over, but more particularly in the chest 
 on the left side, and expressed a wish to be 
 taken home at once. With considerate ten- 
 derness for his sisters feelings, he asked Dr 
 Johnson to despatch a messenger to Elles- 
 dee House to inform Mr Ellison, the licad 
 butler, in secret^ that an accident, which 
 it was trusted, however, would not turn 
 out to be serious, had befallen his master, 
 with instructions to break the unwelcome
 
 144 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 news gently to Madam, that she might 
 excuse the Baronet's absence to the guests 
 invited. 
 
 Now, had Dr Johnson been even a 
 third-rate general practitioner, or a suck- 
 ing young hospital surgeon. Sir Richard's 
 complaint of great pain on the left side of 
 the chest would naturally have induced 
 him to examine that portion of his patient's 
 frame. The merest suspicion of broken 
 ribs would have sufficed to suggest not 
 simply the propriety, but the imperative 
 necessity of taking his patient at once on 
 a stretcher or on a shutter to the nearest 
 hospital. Unfortunately, Dr Johnson was 
 simply a most learned and deeply-read 
 physician, with lots of most ingenious 
 theories about him upon the nature of 
 disease in general, and upon the best mode 
 of systematically classifying its multi- 
 tudinous forms ; one who, in his prescrip- 
 tions, could deftly blend the agens, the 
 adjuvans, the corrigens, and the vehi- 
 culum, and successfully combat the ail-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 145 
 
 ments of old dowagers ; and write learned 
 treatises upon some newly discovered form 
 of neuralgia, or nephralgia, or notalgia, 
 or any other thingalgia. But he certainly 
 was not the proper man for an emergency 
 like that before him, which required a hos- 
 pital surgeon's familiarity with accidents, 
 a steady heart, a steady hand, and the 
 prompt decision of a mind clear from the 
 cobwebs of theoretical trash. 
 
 So he fatally consented to Sir Richard's 
 request to take him home in his carriage — 
 the very worst thing that could have been 
 done under the circumstances. A messen- 
 ger was despatched with the necessary in- 
 structions for Mr Ellison. This messenger 
 had witnessed the accident, and, being no 
 physician, as Dr Johnson was, felt strongly 
 inclined to look upon it as a most serious 
 affair. In fact, he believed the banker to 
 be a dead man, and it was in this sense 
 that he delivered his message to poor Elli- 
 son, who, being all heart and all affection 
 for his dearly beloved master, was so com- 
 
 VOL. I. 10
 
 146 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 pletely upset by tlie intelligence, that he 
 may surely claim some indulgent forbear- 
 ance for taking the very strange mode 
 of hr caking the news gently to Madam which 
 has been related at the end of the 2)reced- 
 ing chapter. 
 
 Poor Tomyris, the least guilty of the 
 agents in this catastrophe, had been taken 
 proper care of meanwhile by one of the 
 by-standers, a groom out of place, who was 
 directed to take her home to her master's 
 stables, and was handsomely rewarded for 
 his trouble. 
 
 Mr Patrick Maloney, immediately after 
 flinging the dead cat out into the lane, re- 
 treated precipitately to the shelter of his 
 own apartment. It was only next day 
 that he heard of the dire consequences of 
 his act — which, however, did not trouble 
 liim much. Mrs Moriarty was just cross- 
 ing over to her court from the other side 
 of the lane when the catastro2)lie happened. 
 Her attention, however, was not attracted 
 so much by the fallen man, as by the
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 147 
 
 glimpse she caught of the flying body of 
 her favourite Tabby. She rushed up to 
 this, regardless of the mare's plunging ; she 
 took the body up from the ground, when 
 the dire conviction was forced upon her 
 that it was Tabby indeed I She took the 
 dead cat to her room, to weep over it in 
 solitude and silence. Next day she put it 
 in a box and took it to the house of a 
 friend of hers at Greenwich, where she 
 buried it in the garden. She vowed deadly 
 vengeance against the bloody destroyer of 
 the object of her affection, and she kept 
 her vow. For having by a chain of acute 
 reasoning, which would have done honour 
 to Locke and Mill, arrived at the con- 
 clusion that her countryman Maloney was 
 the culprit, she devised a scheme of venge- 
 ance against the murderer of poor Tabby 
 which would have appeased even the most 
 cruel cravings of a Cherokee — she be- 
 guiled him to marry her !
 
 148 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Jhome ! 
 
 WHICK IS TAPESTEIED WITH ELACK HANGINGS. 
 
 When, many years before, lier hand- 
 some young lover had been hm-ried out of 
 this world's life, his groom, an Englisli lad, 
 warmly attached to his master, had been 
 the first to communicate the mournful in- 
 telligence to the bereaved bride, then, as 
 now, surrounded by a brilliant cii'cle of 
 sruests invited to a ffreat festival, which 
 only Avaitcd the arrival of the anxiously- 
 expected bridegroom, just the same as the 
 arrival of the host was awaited now. 
 
 That messenger of (Jeath also had, as 
 poor Ellison now, rushed into her jiresence, 
 pale, trembling, and crying, and had 
 blurted out in half-choked sobs, ^*0h!
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 149 
 
 Miss ! Miss I My master I My poor 
 master !" 
 
 The identity of the surrounding cir- 
 cumstances, the almost identity of the 
 words, brought back to the mind of 
 the unhappy woman the first great, never- 
 forgotten sorrow of her life — brought it 
 back with such vivid poignancy, such 
 overwhelming force, that the two fatal 
 events became to her blended into one 
 crushing calamity. 
 
 One brief moment she stood erect, gaz- 
 ing vacantly around her ; then, mechanic- 
 ally lifting one hand to her throat, and 
 pressing the other spasmodically over her 
 heart, she gave a convulsive gasp, a 
 shudder ran through her frame, the marble 
 paleness of her face turned to ashen-gray, 
 and, with a low, stifled cry, she fell back 
 inanimate into the arms of Dr Duttall, 
 who, with professional foreboding instinct, 
 had rushed up to her. 
 
 The experienced physician darted one 
 quick, searching glance into the still.
 
 150 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 white face, tlien laid his burden gently 
 down on the antique Elizabethan couch, 
 from Avhich poor Madam liad only a few brief 
 moments before risen with a movement of 
 angry impatience at her brother's unac- 
 countable tarrying. The Glasgow profess- 
 or, who had also hastened up, whispered 
 something about apoplexy and bleeding. 
 But the physician slowly and sadly 
 shook his head. '^ No use, Ure," said he, 
 '^ she is dead. No apoplexy here, — case 
 of heart-disease." Then turning fiercely 
 upon the unhappy butler, who seemed 
 altogether bereft of his senses, and kept 
 on wailing and moaning, and muttering 
 about his ^'poor master," and something 
 about a ^' messenger," he angrily shouted 
 at him, ^' Get out, you blundering idiot ! 
 You have killed your mistress ! " 
 
 Then saying, with nice grammatical 
 and professional correctness, to the Duchess 
 of Dashshire, who came hastening forward, 
 '' I consign it to the ladies' care now," the 
 Doctor left the room in company of the
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 151 
 
 Glasgow Professor of Chemistry, in search 
 of the messenger whose sad news had 
 so thoroughly overthrown poor Ellison's 
 mind. 
 
 Ay, it was but too true. The last 
 sudden strain had been too much for the 
 tough old fibres, and they had given way 
 under it. Madam had done with the 
 pomp and pride of this world, and with its 
 sorrows. 
 
 The entire scene had passed with light- 
 ning rapidity, before the great majority of 
 the guests had even yet recovered from the 
 first shock caused by the butler's sudden 
 irruption, and his portentous wail. 
 
 Few of the children of man ever yet 
 stood wholly unmoved in the presence of 
 death, unless, perchance, in the fierce ex- 
 citement of the strife and struggle of 
 battle ; and I verily believe that none, even 
 the coldest and most self-possessed and 
 apathetic natures, could ever yet look 
 without some slight feeling of awe upon 
 the silent angel where he steppeth, unan-
 
 152 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 nounced and unawares, into the midst of 
 life and pleasure, mii-tli and gaiety. 
 
 *' Kein "Wetter G-ottes spricht rait laut'rem Grimme : 
 O Mensch ! Wie klein bist Du ! " 
 
 So here: the first moment of consterna- 
 tion over, they all, from tlie tenderest- 
 hearted woman there to the stern warrior, 
 the hero of a hundred fights, who had stood 
 calm and unmoved amidst the din and 
 horror of the bloodiest battles, drew up, in 
 sorro\s^ul silence, to the couch on which 
 the stately form lay, stately still in death ; 
 the women pressing to the front rank, to 
 gather round' their departed sister. 
 
 Then there struck suddenly upon the 
 startled cars of all there, as in bitter mock- 
 ery, the joyous sound of a merry peal ! It 
 was the dinner-bell, rung by the head- 
 cook, unconscious as vet of the dire calam- 
 ity that had befallen the house of EI- 
 lesdee. 
 
 A rare old bell it was, clear-toned and 
 full- voiced — an antique bronze, a relic of
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 153 
 
 St Ricquier's abbey, where it had, in times 
 of yore, called the pious fathers to the 
 delectations of the refectory. Sir Richard 
 had "acquired" it with its antique frame- 
 work, at the time when he became the 
 lucky purchaser of the door, which now 
 gave entrance to his new mansion ; he had 
 secured these valuable relics of the past, to 
 the intense grief of M. du Sommerard, who 
 was only just two minutes too late to 
 compete with the rich banker for their 
 possession. 
 
 But for this once the silver tinkle, that 
 had always been so welcome, jarred and 
 grated so harshly upon the ear, that the 
 Duke of Dashshire felt irresistibly impelled 
 to rush from the room to " silence that 
 dreadful bell" 
 
 Almost at the same instant was heard 
 the thunder of carriage-wheels rapidly 
 approaching, succeeded immediately by a 
 loud and long tattoo at the door. 
 
 But the women heeded neither tinkle 
 nor tattoo. Tlieir attention was all-ab
 
 154 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 sorbed in the dead fomi on which thev 
 gazed through tear-dimmed eyes. 
 
 '^ Let us take her to her apartment, poor 
 dear," sobbed the Duchess of Dashshire to 
 Lady Eldon who stood next to lier, with her 
 wrinkled old face bedewed with tears, and 
 an expression of so much genuine womanly 
 sympathy about her, that no one surely 
 could at that moment have remembered 
 her meanness and parsimony, and her 
 other little paltry foibles, or could even 
 have smiled the slightest smile of derision 
 at the grotesque peach-coloured velvet 
 gown. 
 
 So they lifted the body gently and 
 tenderly from the couch, and carried it 
 through the lane formed by the gentle- 
 men reverentially drawing off on both 
 sides, to the sanctuary of ^' Madam's" 
 apartment. 
 
 Thus, by a curious caprice of fortune, 
 the daughter of the base-born mother, as, at 
 her birth, an Empress-Queen was waiting 
 to be her godmother, so now, in death, had
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 155 
 
 her inanimate form tended, and the last 
 sad offices rendered, by the highest, noblest, 
 and proudest ladies of the land, with the 
 Duchess of Dashshire at their head, the 
 haughtiest daughter of the haughty line 
 of Choiseul-Stainville ! 
 
 ****** 
 
 The tattoo at the door heralded the 
 advent of the master of the house. 
 
 It had been a sad journey this, from 
 New Street to Park Lane, and fidl of agony 
 to poor Sir Eichard. When first placed 
 into the carriage by the well-meaning, 
 though in this instance grievously mis- 
 taken, physician, he had relapsed into semi- 
 unconsciousness, from which Dr Johnson, 
 who took his seat by his patient's side to 
 support him, would not attempt to rouse 
 him. But when they had reached about 
 half-way down Piccadilly, the ragged ends 
 of the broken ribs had, by the shaking of 
 the carriage, been forced actually into the 
 substance of the left lung, causing the 
 acutest pain, which but too soon restored
 
 156 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 the unliappy sufferer to the fullest conscious- 
 ness of his agony. 
 
 He was a strong, self-j)ossessecl man, 
 was Sir Richard, and one who would bear 
 with becoming fortitude his fair share of 
 physical suffering, — but the throes and 
 pangs that now rent his frame were too 
 much for poor human nature to endure. 
 His shrieks were heart-rending. The kind- 
 hearted man by his side, who would gladly 
 have resigned one-half of his fortune to 
 relieve the sufferer, had he only known 
 how, felt the heavy, cold sweat of conscious 
 helplessness clamming his brow. 
 
 At last, by what has not inaptly been 
 termed " the most merciful of merciful 
 Nature's merciful provisions," the poor 
 patient fainted with excess of pain, and 
 returned to half-consciousness only when 
 the carriage stopped at the door of his 
 house. 
 
 By tliis time the news of poor Ma- 
 dam's sudden death in the drawing-room, 
 and that Sir Richard had met with a fatal
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 157 
 
 accident, had began to spread through the 
 household. 
 
 So there rushed to the door now, with 
 Doctors Duttall and Ure, who had only just 
 ascertained from the messenger that Sir 
 Eichard was not actually dead, however so 
 serious his injuries might turn out to be, 
 and the Duke of Dashshire, who, with the 
 most absolute disregard of his personal 
 dignity, had just stopped the objectionable 
 ringing of the dinner-bell, Mrs Grainger, 
 the housekeeper, who was Sir Richard's 
 foster sister, Martin, Sir Richard's own 
 man, and poor Ellison. 
 
 When the patient had been lifted from 
 the carriage and brought in-doors, Dr 
 Duttall, who looked extremely grave and 
 thoughtful after the first glance he h ad 
 cast on Sir Richard, ordered him to be 
 carried into the study, on the ground-floor, 
 where a bed was improvised in a few 
 minutes. 
 
 Ellison, whom the sight of his beloved 
 master in this sad state had even more
 
 158 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 thoroughly unnerved than he was before, 
 was consigned to the care of two servants, 
 with orders to take him to his room, where 
 Dr Duttall promised to send him a com- 
 posing draught from the domestic medicine 
 chest. 
 
 Mrs Grainger, the banker's foster- 
 sister, — Sir Richard had lost his mother at 
 the age of three months, — was as warmly- 
 attached to her master as poor Ellison ; 
 but she was a woman of strong nerve, who 
 felt that this was no time for wailing and 
 moaning. So, with the help of ]^Iartin, 
 a man of few words and of a most phi- 
 losophic turn of mind, who was never 
 surprised at anything, nor startled or 
 shaken out of his calm composure by any 
 event, she set about undressing the poor 
 bruised body with that delicate tenderness 
 of touch which Nature has granted to 
 woman as an inborn gift, lost only occa- 
 sionally in sisters of charity and hospital 
 nurses, and which great surgeons acquire 
 after years of practice.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 159 
 
 By the time the patient was undi-essed 
 he had fully recovered his consciousness. 
 He gave Mrs Grainger a grateful look, 
 which well-nigh upset the good woman's 
 self-possession; then seeing his own phy- 
 sician standing by the bed-side, he feebly 
 stretched forth his right hand, and with a 
 faint, painful smile, said, ^^ Ah ! Duttall, 
 you here ? Come to see me off ? " 
 
 During the few minutes it had taken to 
 undress the patient and put him to bed, 
 Dr Duttall liad lield a brief conversation 
 in a corner of the room with Dr Johnson, 
 who had informed his brother physician of 
 the circumstances of the case in so far as he 
 had knowledge of them. 
 
 Dr Johnson felt awfully shaken when the 
 truly great and justly renowned practitioner 
 bluntly told him that there never was a 
 case in which the indication so clearly 
 pointed to broken ribs, or some other 
 serious injury to the chest, and that to 
 drive the sufferer about in a carriage, under 
 the circumstances, was nearly tantamount
 
 160 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 to murder ! He added tliat a glance at 
 the patient's face, which bore the true Hip- 
 pocratic expression, had convinced him 
 that the injury received was of the most 
 serious nature, and would in all probability 
 prove fatal. 
 
 It was with no slight misgivings then 
 that the fashionable theorist attended the 
 skilful practitioner to the patient's bedside. 
 
 ^' Come to see you off, Ellesdee ? Non- 
 sense, man ! " said Dr Duttall in a cheery 
 voice, slightly belied by a nervous twisting 
 about the mouth, ^^ we'll soon set you to 
 rights again, please God ! " With these 
 Avords he proceeded to examine the 
 patient's chest, which looked one vast 
 bruise all over the left side. The moment 
 he approached, with the gentlest and tender- 
 est touch, the part extending from the 
 fourth to the seventh rib on the left side, 
 Sir Richard gave a piercing scream, and 
 entreated the doctor not to put him again 
 to the frightful torture he had suffered on 
 his way to Park Lane. ^^ Duttall," he
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 161 
 
 said, the words forcing their way slowly 
 and painfully from his bruised chest, '' it 
 is no use. I am dying. No skill, not even 
 yours, can save my life. Do not touch me. 
 Let me die in j^eace, old friend ! '' 
 
 So the doctor was obliged to rest content 
 with spreading over the chest a large eight- 
 fold compress, imbibed with a weak solu- 
 tion of ammonia in water, which seemed 
 to give the sufferer some relief. 
 
 ^^ I thank you, Duttall, from my heart," 
 he said. ^^ There is no hope — you know 
 that. — I feel it here," with a painful motion 
 towards the heart. ^^ Tell me, as a friend, 
 how long you think I can last. I have some- 
 thing to do yet." Then quite suddenly, — 
 '^ Where is my poor sister ? Why is she not 
 here ?" 
 
 The suddenness of the question, and 
 the eager inquiring glance which accom- 
 panied it, scanning with lightning speed 
 the troubled faces of all around, made it a 
 task of no mean difficulty, even for Dr 
 Duttall's self-possession, to frame an an- 
 
 il
 
 1G2 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 swer that might satisfy the poor patient, 
 whilst concealing from him the sad truth. 
 
 '^The fact is," said the doctor, after 
 some hesitation, ^^ Miss Ellesdee was so 
 overcome with the news of your accident 
 that — she — fainted, and I — advised, she 
 should be kept quiet in her room. I — 
 have given her a composing draught, 
 and—" 
 
 ^^ Stop," said Sir Eichard, who, with 
 the lucidity of mind given by the near ap- 
 proach of death, divined the melancholy 
 truth, *^ trv not to deceive me. She is 
 dead I poor, poor Mary ! Is it not so ? 
 Speak, man ! Fear not — I can bear it ! " 
 
 The physician felt the uselessness of 
 further concealment. He bowed his head 
 in silence. 
 
 ^^ Poor Mary dead, and my sons far 
 away from me ! not even Davcnant here. 
 It is sad to die thus," murmured Sir 
 Richard to himself; then added reveren- 
 tially, witli a glance upwards, ^^ Thy will 
 be done — Thou knowest best !"
 
 • THE OLD LEDGER. 163 
 
 " Now, Duttall, will you tell me liow 
 long I may last ? " 
 
 ''• My dear old friend/' said the doctor, 
 ^^ ^ dum spiras spcrare licet.'' If you would 
 only let me try to — " 
 
 ^^ No/' interrupted Sir Richard, ^^ it is 
 no use trying, Duttall, I tell you. You 
 know I am doomed. With me," he added 
 with a faint smile, ^^ it is rather ' dum spero 
 spirare licet^ and I hope no longer. You 
 need not tell me now, — I feel I shall not see 
 to-morrow's sun rise." 
 
 Then, extending his hand to Dr John- 
 son, who looked truly miserable, he said, 
 ^^ I thank you from my heart, doctor, for 
 your great kindness, — which might have 
 been the means of preserving my life," he 
 added, turning with a beseeching look to Dr 
 Duttall, ^'but that it pleases the Almighty 
 to ordain otherwise." 
 
 Then to the Duke of Dashshire, who 
 stood by silent, struggling in vain to force 
 back his tears, ^^ I am truly grateful for 
 your Grace's friendly sympathy;" and ap-
 
 164 THE OLD LEDGER. ' 
 
 parently remembering now for tlic first 
 time since the accident, tlie fact of the ap- 
 pointed festival, he added witli a faint 
 smile, ^^ Oh ! I remember now, this was to 
 have been our great house-warming ! 
 Miglit I venture to ask your Grace to take 
 kindly upon you the painful task of ex- 
 cusing me to my guests? The house 
 which soon awaits me now is a cold 
 dwelling indeed ; yet needeth it no warm- 
 ing ! Good-bye, my dear friend, God 
 bless you." 
 
 The Duke took the proffered hand, 
 pressed it Vv^armly, bent over it one mo- 
 ment in silence, and imprinted upon it 
 a reverential kiss. ^^ I go on my melan- 
 choly mission," he said, '' but I will soon 
 retm^n." 
 
 ^^ Where is Martin ? " inquired Sir 
 Richard. 
 
 The silent philosopher came forth from 
 the corner to Vv^iich he had discreetly 
 retired after assisting in putting his master 
 to bed, and, with a brief ^^ at your com-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 165 
 
 mand, Sir Richard," awaited his master's 
 orders. 
 
 ^^ Martin, have my carriage got ready 
 immediately, and drive up to Lombard 
 Street. You will find Mr Wilson there. 
 Tell him what has happened, and bring 
 him back with you here." 
 
 Martin bowed and went away on his 
 errand. 
 
 *^Poor Wilson," mused the banker, ^4t 
 will be a sad, sad blow to him. He would 
 insist upon finishing that financial state- 
 ment for me. Had he but come along with 
 me, as I wished him to do, perchance this 
 might not have happened. — Perchance ? 
 Chance ! Ay, how we use and abuse that 
 strange little word I " 
 
 Then, his eyes lighting on Dr Ure, who 
 had kept modestly in the background, he 
 cried, ^^ Ah, Professor, you here, too ? Well, 
 it will not be for lack of science around 
 me that I shall have to quit this world so 
 soon. And now," he added, with a slight 
 touch of his old ^' putting-his-foot-down"
 
 166 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 manner, which brooked no contradiction, 
 '^ leave me now, all of you, except Mrs 
 Grainger. I would sleep till Wilson comes. 
 I feel so much easier of the pain in my 
 chest that I know the worst is past. My 
 dear foster-sister will watch by my bed- 
 side. Ay, she is the only sister left me 
 now." 
 
 Here two solitary tears forced their 
 way from his eyes despite his inward reso- 
 lution to keep them back. 
 
 Poor Mrs Grainger, who had hitheiio 
 stood this fearful trial to her feelings with 
 heroic fortitude, now was fairly overcome. 
 She threw herself on her knees by the 
 side of the bed, seized Sir Eichard's right 
 hand, covered it with kisses, and bm-st into 
 a ht of hysteric sobbing and a flood of 
 tears. 
 
 The two physicians and the Glasgow 
 Professor complied with the patient's re- 
 quest. They retired to the library ad- 
 joining the study, where they would be 
 ready at hand in case of need.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 167 
 
 Dr Duttall liacl well understood the 
 meaning of that beseeching look which 
 Sir Eichard had directed to him whilst 
 thanking Dr Johnson for his kindness. 
 The great-hearted physician could not find 
 it in him to trample boastfully upon what 
 was, after all, only an error of judgment ; 
 so with noble generosity he resolved to 
 relieve at once his fellow-practitioner's 
 mind of the fearful anxiety which he knew 
 was oppressing it now. 
 
 '^ Johnson," he said, the moment the 
 three had settled themselves comfortably 
 round the cozy fire blazing in the immense 
 chimney of the library, '^ I am fully con- 
 vinced now that Sir Richard's unfortunate 
 accident was fatal from the beginning. No 
 art of surgeon or physician, indeed no 
 power on earth, could have made the least 
 alteration in the matter. His instinct tells 
 him true: lie will never see to-morrow's sun 
 rise, poor fellow. His was one of the 
 fullest and sweetest cups of prosperity 
 ever yet presented to man, and to have it
 
 168 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 SO suddenly daslied from his lips — it must 
 be hard to bear. However, such is life," 
 he added, philosophically, ^^ there is no 
 helj) for it. Yet would I have liked to try 
 setting and bandaging the broken ribs, 
 even only by way of a desperate experi- 
 ment. But it would have been the grossest 
 cruelty under the circumstances, and, most 
 likely, the patient would have expired in 
 the attempt. Ah ! if one could only treat 
 the living body the same as the dead. Of 
 course, you have heard of Ambrose Pare, 
 one of the brightest glories of our noble 
 profession ? " 
 
 Dr lire made a sign of assent. 
 
 Dr Johnson, who looked considerably 
 relieved, now said — ^^ Yes, of course, Am- 
 brose Pare, the princij^al surgeon to the 
 House of Valois, and to the princes of 
 Lorrain." 
 
 " Yes, that's the man," continued Dr 
 Duttall. ^'Well, do you know how he 
 saved the life of the Duke of Guise at the 
 Siege of Calais ? No, you do not ? Well,
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 169 
 
 then, I will tell you. The Duke had got 
 a most ugly thrust with a lance right 
 through the face; the shaft had followed 
 the iron, and remained fixed in the womid — 
 a nice little wound, just extending from 
 the cheek, under the right eye, to the neck, 
 under the left ear — and, to make matters 
 much worse still, the shaft had broken off 
 clean at the cheek. Not much chance, 
 then, for the poor Duke, you would say ; 
 nor would there have been but for the 
 nerve and resolution of the great surgeon. 
 He planted his left foot firmly on the 
 wounded man's chest, laid hold with his 
 finger nails of the broken end of wood 
 protruding only a line or so from the 
 wound, and tried to loosen it gradually by 
 moving it gently to and fro. After a time he 
 succeeded in gaining a firmer hold, which 
 enabled him at last to pull the broken 
 shaft and lance-head out of the wound. 
 All this time, of course, he treated the 
 Duke exactly as if he had a dead body 
 before him. It must have been a nice
 
 170 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 time for both of them — " here the doctor 
 gave a slight shudder — ^Hhe operator as 
 well as the party operated upon, and I 
 verily do not quite know which of the two 
 I should have preferred to be at the time. 
 This much is certain, however, that the 
 Duke owed his life to the stout-heai-ted 
 surgeon. 
 
 '^ Now, it has often struck me in the 
 course of m}^ career, what a boon it would 
 be to surgery — and to humanity — if means 
 could be devised that would enable us to 
 treat our patients occasionally as if we had 
 to deal simply with dead matter. And 
 I am firmly convinced in my own mind 
 that there must exist agents to produce 
 total insensibility to pain in the human 
 frame, a kind of apparent death, — without 
 serious danger to life and health, of course. 
 My time is taken up too much, unfor- 
 tunately, by the exigencies of my practice, 
 and I am getting too old, moreover, to 
 engage in serious researches upon the sub- 
 ject. But you," turning to Dr Ure, ^^you,
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 171 
 
 who Viie not only a great chemist , but a 
 natural philosopher, and no mean phy- 
 siologist, you surely might leave off for a 
 time your researches into the elasticity 
 and the latent heat of vapours, and try 
 your hand, say at some of the Ethers, to 
 see whether this greatest desideratum of 
 surgery may not be actually within our 
 reach." 
 
 ^^No, Duttall," responded the Glasgow 
 Professor, ^^ no, I am not going to try ni}" 
 hand at that — JS^7i omnes omnia. Chemistry, 
 my friend, is the queen of sciences. You 
 all of you want very much to make her a 
 handmaiden to the ' lady of your own 
 special affection.' Well, as for me, if she 
 is to be made a handmaiden, it shall be 
 for the greatest benefit of the greatest 
 number — it shall be to arts and manu- 
 factures. So, please, no more on that head, 
 an you love me." 
 
 '' Well, well, you may be right from 
 your narrow point of view ; but, depend 
 upon it, it will be done notwithstanding,
 
 172 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 and you will live to sec it though I may 
 not." 
 
 '' Ah, Duttall," said Dr Johnson, '' I 
 only wish I could boast that ardent love 
 of our profession which animates you, — and 
 your marvellous skill in diagnosis. Gad, 
 man, where did you take it all ? or is it 
 simply a matter of intuition with you ? " 
 
 ^' Well," replied his fellow-practitioner, 
 not a little flattered, of course, by this 
 encomiastic address, — for even the best and 
 wisest of us are not quite free from some 
 slight personal vanity, — ^^ you see, my 
 boy, the fact is, / learned my profession as 
 children learn their mother tongue — by 
 imitation and practice ; ?/ou studied it as, 
 the boys at Eton and other schools study 
 the classic tongues. It is all grammar 
 and rules with them, which is the reason 
 that so very few of them ever attain to a 
 knowledge of the languages. Now, it is 
 the same, you see, with the study of the 
 medical art and science. It is all names 
 and theories and systems^ which is the reason
 
 THE OLD LEDGER, 173 
 
 that we have such a very extensive crop 
 of doctors, with such an exceedingly slight 
 sprinkling of healers among them. You 
 know how I first became a member of the 
 noble craft ? Oh, of course, you do not ; 
 nor does Ure. So I'll just tell you the 
 story : 
 
 ^^n 1779 I was a boy of 14. I had 
 lost my mother early, and had neither 
 brother nor sister. My father was a stern, 
 harsh man, a gloomy zealot, who held by 
 the wretched maxim that young people 
 must be lashed into virtue and learning, 
 and that he who spareth the rod spoileth 
 the child. He sent me to the Grammar 
 School at Norwich, my native place ; with 
 Ms recommendations to the master and the 
 ushers to treat me with the greatest strict- 
 ness and severity. I need hardly tell you 
 that my life there was made a perfect hell 
 on earth to me. I was no dunce, and I 
 managed to acquire a great deal of sound 
 and solid learning. Mind, I say, I ac- 
 quired it. I certainly cannot say I was
 
 174 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 taufjJit it. The wretched wielders of the 
 cane and lash who passed for my teachers 
 had not got the faculty of conveying 
 knowledge to others. They could not be- 
 stow learning ; they could only bestow 
 stripes. 
 
 ^' Well, one day when I had already 
 been more than usually maltreated, a brute 
 of an usher, who bore me a special grudge, 
 heaven knows for what reason, tried my 
 patience a little too much. I was a fine, 
 strong stripling then. I tm^ned upon him 
 with the concentrated rage engendered by 
 two years' ill treatment, and I lashed him 
 with his o^wTi cane till he howled for 
 mercy. 
 
 ^^It Avas no use going home after this 
 little exploit of mine, I knew. The old 
 man would have killed me, or nearly so, 
 for rebellinfj against what he in his bigoted 
 jargon called a God-appointed autliority 
 over me. So I resolved to run away for 
 good, and made tracks for Portsmouth. 
 
 " I wonder," said the doctor, inter-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 175 
 
 rupting himself, '^ whether the old man 
 ever regretted his harsh treatment of me, 
 whicli left him childless. We never met 
 again in life. He died three years after, 
 leaving some £10,000 to a number of mis- 
 sions for the Conversion of Jews, Hindoos, 
 and Chinese, and for preaching the gospel 
 to the interesting Cannibals of the Anda- 
 man Islands. I believe, I trust, for the old 
 man's sake, that he thought at the time I 
 was dead and gone. However, to go on 
 with my storv, I volunteered first in the 
 ^Victor,' a small 10-gunner, from which I 
 was speedily transferred to the ^ Phoenix,' 
 a 44 frigate, commanded by Sir Hyde 
 Parker. Our first lieutenant was a Mr 
 Archer, one of the smartest young officers 
 in His Majesty's navy, and one of the 
 most kind-hearted young fellows withal. 
 He somehow soon found out that I was 
 just a little above the common run of ship- 
 boys, and he made me his servant. When 
 he discovered that I knew something of 
 mathematics and a little of navigation, and
 
 176 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 was well disposed to learn a deal more, he 
 promised to get me a midshipman's herth, 
 through his mother's interest ; for which, 
 of course, I was most truly thankful. But, 
 as luck would have it, a very short time 
 after the lieutenant's promise, the surgeon's 
 mate died, and the doctor was looking out 
 for a smart lad to assist liim a little. AVell, 
 the lieutenant resigned me to him. I 
 soon became a huge favourite with the dis- 
 ciple of ^sculapius, who positively took a 
 delight in initiating me into the mysteries 
 of his craft. 
 
 ^^Well, in October, 1780, the old 
 ' Phoenix ' came to grief off Cuba, in that 
 fearful hurricane which knocked on the 
 head the ^Thunderer,' the ^Stirling Castle,' 
 the ^ Andromeda,' and however so many 
 other line ships ; not to forget, among 
 others, the poor ^ Victor,' in which I had 
 shipped first. And if the crew of the 
 ' Phoenix ' got off pretty well with life and 
 liberty on the occasion, it was due to the 
 energy, skill, and self-devotion of Lieu-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 177 
 
 tenant Arclier, who was, as a reward for 
 his glorious deeds, made Captain of the 
 ^ Tobago.' He took me with him as a kind 
 of surgeon's mate. It would take too long 
 to tell you all about the first live years of 
 my career. Suffice it to say that after five 
 years I somehow had the luck of getting 
 an acting commission as assistant-surgeon, 
 which was subsequently confirmed by my 
 Lords of the Admiralty. As our glorious 
 country at the time was always nursing a 
 big or a little war in some part of the 
 world, just to keep in her hand, I suppose 
 I had plenty of opportunities afforded me 
 to get on in my new profession. 
 
 ^' In 1807 I at last attained the rank of 
 full surgeon, when I exchanged the navy 
 for the army. The last ship I served in 
 was tlie ' Anson,' a frigate of 40 guns, 
 commanded by poor Captain Lydiard, wlio 
 perished in the wreck of his vessel off 
 Helstone, on the 28th December, 1807, a 
 victim to his sense of duty. I liad only 
 left the ^ Anson' on the 21st December. 
 
 VOL. I. 12
 
 178 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Among the few officers saved in that aw- 
 ful catastrophe was my assistant-surgeon, 
 Ross, of whom you have heard, no doubt. 
 Well, as I tell you, I exchanged the navy 
 for the army, and in 1800 I went with Sir 
 Arthur Wellesley to Portugal. I went 
 through the whole of the Peninsular Cam- 
 paign, and was again with the Duke at 
 Waterloo. In 1816 I left the army to 
 practise in London. I soon found that it 
 would be a wise proceeding on my part 
 to put myself straight with the ' faculties ' 
 of the profession. I had managed to get 
 a great deal of reading before, and, with 
 a little hard study, I very soon brought 
 myself sufficiently up to the mark to pass 
 my examination at the two colleges. I had 
 no great trouble with yours, Johnson : they 
 always were a gentlemanly set of fellows. 
 They took a great deal for granted, and 
 badgered me very little indeed about the 
 rest. But it was ver}- different with tlie 
 College of Surgeons. Egad ! they wanted 
 to treat me there like a youngster who
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 179 
 
 had only just managed to run through the 
 hospitaL They put such queer questions 
 to me^ who, without wishing to boast, could 
 have taught the lot of them. There was 
 that old idiot. Sir Jonathan Morton, who, 
 forsooth, must ask mc about amputation ! 
 
 " ^ How wald ye proceed,' says he, ^ Mr 
 Duttall ' (I had not yet passed the College 
 of Physicians then), ^gin ye were called 
 upon to sever one of the nether limbs 
 abune the knee-joint ? ' 
 
 ''Well, I gave him a look — 'How do 
 ye mean. Sir Jonathan ? ' said I, ' with 
 or tvithout instrume^ts ? ' You should have 
 seen the old boy ; he got his bristles up 
 in a moment, like a porcupine. He was 
 rarely riled. 
 
 "'Let me tell ye,' says he, 'Mr 
 Duttall, that this is not a place for jokes 
 and ribaldry. We all of us ken yer great 
 skill as a surgeon, but, na'theless, ye'll 
 please to answer the questions I choose to 
 put to ye.' 
 
 *' Well, by this time imj shirt was out.
 
 180 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 ^ Sir Jonathan,' said I, ^ I am not in the 
 habit of indulging in jokes and ribaldry, 
 least of all on an occasion like this. But 
 let me tell jjou that when you venture to 
 ask a man like me, who can reckon his 
 amputations by the hundred, performed 
 in the cock-pit and on the battle-field, and 
 who has been occasionally obliged to put 
 up with a carpenter's saw, a cheese-knife, 
 and a packing-needle, as an elegant sub- 
 stitute for a case of surgical instruments — 
 when you venture to ask me such a question 
 as you did just now, I think I am justified 
 in asking you, at least, whether it is not, 
 perchance, instigated simply by a laudable 
 curiosity, that you wish to have a de- 
 scription of the operation performed under 
 difficulties such as are never likely to occur 
 to a London practitioner and a Member 
 of the Board of Examiners of the College.' 
 '' Well, the old fellow saw the absurdity 
 of the thing, and he gave up examining 
 me any further, as a bad job. But I am 
 getting prosy and garrulous over these old
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 181 
 
 reminiscencesj with our poor friend lying 
 in the next room dying. Ah me ! Self 
 somehow is always uppermost with man, 
 try as he may to hide it." 
 
 The Doctor rose and went to the door 
 leading into the study, with the other two 
 gentlemen following him. He opened it 
 softly, and prepared to enter on tip-toe, 
 when he was stopped by a sign from Mrs 
 Grainger, who gave him to understand 
 that Sir Richard was asleep. 
 
 So whispering to the others, ^^ Well, it 
 is indeed no use disturbing him, we can do 
 him no good," he shut the door as softly 
 as he had opened it ; and suddenly remem- 
 bering that he had promised to compound 
 a composing draught for poor Ellison, he 
 requested his friends to excuse him for a 
 few minutes, but to let him know the in- 
 stant Sir Richard should awake. 
 
 Having achieved his little '^ pharmaceu- 
 tical bottle-trick," as the great Councillor 
 Heim used to call the process of mixing 
 divers nastinesses together in a phial, to
 
 182 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 turn them into one overpoAvering com- 
 pound nastiness, the Doctor proceeded up- 
 stairs to see whether his services might 
 not somehow be required there. 
 
 He met the Duke of Dashshire on the 
 staircase, on his way down to the study. 
 He told the Duke that Sir Eichard was 
 asleep, but that he had sent for the head- 
 cashier, who would most probably arrive 
 in another half-hour's time ; and that the 
 best way would be for his Grace to stay 
 in the library with Doctors Johnson and 
 Ure, and there await their poor friend's 
 awakening. 
 
 Before proceeding to the library, the 
 Duke told the Doctor that most of the 
 guests had already taken their dc2:)artui'e, 
 with expressions of heartfelt sympathy ; 
 and that there remained now onlv, besides 
 himself and \\\Qi Duchess and several ladies, 
 who were still in poor Madam's apartment, 
 the two great city bankers and Mr Peel, 
 who all three wished to sec their friend 
 and colleague once more, if they might
 
 THE OLD LEDGER, 183 
 
 be permitted. That exemplary divine, 
 
 the Bishop of , also remained, witli the 
 
 Christian intention to afford the spiritual 
 consolation of his holy office to the depart- 
 ing soul. The Dean of Westminster, who 
 knew Sir Eichard to be a staunch Unita- 
 rian, and who was a well-bred gentleman 
 as well as a high dignitary of the Church, 
 had, before leaving, ventured to hint to the 
 Bishop that an offer of the kind intended 
 might seem to have about it a look of 
 intrusion and indelicacy. But the hint 
 had no deterring effect upon the staunch 
 Churchman. 
 
 The Doctor proceeded first to poor 
 Madam's apartment, where he found a host 
 of female servants, and six or seven ladies, 
 who clearly had set afloat a joint-stock 
 company of condolement and crying, and 
 were paying-up the ^^ calls'' with such 
 cheerful alacrity and profuse liberality, as 
 the cynical old man afterwards stated down- 
 stairs, that he had not the heart to break in 
 upon this the greatest enjoyment of women
 
 184 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 on earth — a good cry in good company. So 
 he discreetly withdrew before his presence 
 was perceived, and went to join the four 
 gentlemen in the drawing-room. 
 
 He found the Bishop cheerfully lugu- 
 brious, as might befit so shining a light of 
 the orthodox Church Militant, who, though 
 grieving over the imminent loss of a dear 
 personal friend, yet was buoyed up by the 
 hope of snatching, peradventure, a brand 
 from the flames of a hated lieterodoxy. 
 
 In reply to the oily divine's bland in- 
 quiry whether there would be an}^ objec- 
 tion to his, the Bishop's, '' praying" by the 
 dying man's bedside, the Doctor, who 
 hated all humbug, and holy humbug most 
 of all, told the self-appointed would-be 
 Paraclete bluntly and roundly, and in 
 terms which shocked the holy man, and 
 well-nigh choked him with inward rage, 
 that he thought it would be a damned in- 
 trusion, and tliat he, the Doctor, for his 
 own part, so far from sanctioning, would do 
 his best to prevent tlie attempt being
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 185 
 
 made — except always^ of course, it should 
 be Sir Richard's own wish to see the Right 
 Reverend father in God. 
 
 Most men would, under the circum- 
 stances, have given up the point. But 
 'piety is powerfully persevering — so the 
 Bishop simply resolved to bide his time, 
 and wait his chance. 
 
 The two city men looked grave and 
 pre-occupied, more particularly the Baron, 
 who was, perchance, revolving in his mind 
 what effect the sudden death of the head 
 of the great house of Ellesdee and Co. was 
 likely to produce upon the progress of 
 divers most important financial operations 
 that were then in course of negotiation ; 
 and, more especially, whether a slice of the 
 Russian loan might not be secured now, 
 upon exceptionally favourable terms, to 
 the great Plutopentarchy on the Main. 
 For, though it may be a sad reflection to 
 make, it is unfortunately but too true, that 
 even the best of mankind are apt, in the con- 
 templation of the direst catastrophe to their
 
 186 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 dearest friends, to admit, in the midst of their 
 sympathetic regrets, ^^ extenuating circum- 
 stances" in favour of the calamity, when- 
 ever it happens to promise an indirect bene- 
 fit to their own personal interests, — not, of 
 course, that I mean by any means to assert 
 that the man Nathan was one of the best 
 of mankind. 
 
 Mr Peel looked placid and sedate as 
 ever ; yet might the keen observer detect 
 under the calm exterior the inner workings 
 of sincere sorrow. The apparently cold 
 and formal nature of the man truly abound- 
 ed in the warmest sympathies with the 
 joys and sufferings of his fellow-men. The 
 generous aid which he extended, with a 
 princely hand, to poor Haydon, and so 
 many otliers, but which he would have 
 blushed to iind fame, sufficiently attests the 
 nobleness of his heart and mind. No " plat- 
 form philanthropist" he — not one of those 
 crosses between sham religion and sham 
 charity, the great admired of the Hall, who 
 bead subscription lists with decoy dona-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 187 
 
 tions, and delight in sprinkling their dilute 
 benevolence over some patent, vast, red-hot 
 misery, that the hiss may be heard and the 
 steam seen, to attract attention to their 
 noble deeds — and to their noble selves; 
 but one who would delight in solacing 
 some secret sorrow, and effectualljj reliev- 
 ing some occult individual misery; and 
 who would keep both hands employed 
 in the congenial work, that the left might 
 have no leisure to inquire into the doings 
 of the right. 
 
 And he was a great statesman too, and 
 loved his country surpassing well. True, 
 he committed some grievous errors, but 
 most grievously had he to atone for them. 
 What, though he aided in hunting down 
 Canning — at least, the latter had the con- 
 solation of recognizing in his assailant a foe- 
 man worthy of his steel, — whereas poor Sir 
 Eobert was doomed to find himself assailed 
 with the tactics, and in the language, of the 
 stable, and to be hunted down by tvv^o miser- 
 able mediocrities — a ^' book-maker" and a
 
 188 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 mountebank,* followed by a blind and deaf 
 pack of yelping squires. 
 
 He had always entertained feelings of 
 friendship and esteem for Sir Eichard, 
 which since the banker had fully explained 
 to him, even as late as the day before, his 
 plan of financial reform, had grown into 
 warm admiration. 
 
 To the sincere grief over the imminent 
 loss of an esteemed friend there was thus 
 superadded, in Mr Peel's feelings, tlie re- 
 gret at the loss which the country would 
 suffer inj the death of a man like Sir 
 Eichard. 
 
 Then, did there not perchance — ivJio 
 shall tell ? for tuJio knoweth ? — arise before 
 his inner vision the pale phantom of his 
 own final fate, so marvellously like unto 
 that of his dying friend below ? 
 
 ^' How far-fetched and absurd !'' I hear 
 the critic exclaim. '^ How could Sir Eobert 
 Peel, in 1826, possibly, even in his wildest 
 
 * MouTitebank=any boastful and false pretender. 
 Tide " Walker."
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 189 
 
 dreams, asleep or awake, have foreboded 
 that he would be killed by a fall from his 
 horse, twenty-four years after ?" 
 
 True, critic ! It seemeth absurd to 
 indulge in a flight of fancy fetching and 
 flitting so far. I humbly bow my head to 
 thy rebuke. But, severe censor, permit 
 me to ask thee, why so absurdly impossible 
 and so impossibly absurd? Has it never 
 occurred to thee to meet, in thy dreams, 
 or in the abstraction of thy musings, with 
 a sudden glimpse of recollection of some 
 past existence, or with transient loomings of 
 things still hidden in the lap of time, which 
 will flash upon the mind like lightning, 
 either deeply scorching their impression 
 there, or mockingly flitting away, defying 
 the grasp of the hand stretched forth in- 
 voluntarily to seize and retain them as if 
 they had substance and shape ? What 
 know we of the unfathomable mystery of 
 life ? QiCen savons nous ? — nous ' ' qui aimons 
 tant a aflicher la pretention do savoir tout ct 
 de tout savoir !" Ay, indeed! What Jcnoio
 
 190 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 we, with all our boasted conquests in the 
 field of Jcnoivinr/ — we, who, when on our 
 trackless path along the boundless shore of 
 the infinite ocean of the unknown, we 
 chance to stumble on a larger and finer 
 pebble than usual, cackle as loud and vain- 
 glorious as the most conceited hen that 
 ever laid eggs, and would fain claim our 
 treasure-trove as the offspring, in part at 
 least, of our own creative power — of our 
 ^' divine" intelligence ! 
 
 ^if * * * * r::- 
 
 Mr Peel was anxiously inquiring of Dr 
 Duttall whether their poor friend's case was 
 truly so hopeless as the Duke of Dashshire 
 had represented it to be, when Dr Ure 
 hastily entered the apartment, to inform 
 his professional brother and the other gen- 
 tlemen that Sir Richard had just awoke, 
 but that he was evidently failing fast ; that 
 the Duke and Dr Johnson were now with 
 him, and that he had expressed a wish to 
 see at his bedside all his friends who were 
 then in the house.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 191 
 
 They all went accordingly down-stairs 
 to the study. 
 
 They found poor Sir Richard in a sad 
 state of extreme weakness and exhaustion, 
 but calm, collected, and resigned. 
 
 He received them with a faint, mourn- 
 ful smile of welcome, feebly stretched forth 
 his right hand, and said, in a scarcely au- 
 dible voice, ^^I thank you all from my 
 heart for your friendly sympathy." 
 
 Then turning his head with a painful 
 effort to his family physician, ^'You see, 
 Duttall, I was right — I am going fast. 
 Thank God, the pain has nearly left me ! 
 I feel much easier now — only weak — very 
 weak. Would that Wilson were come ! 
 That is the only anxiety which weighs on 
 my mind now. I dread lest I may not 
 last till his arrival. Can your art," he 
 continued, peering with an anxious, be- 
 seeching look into the great practitioner's 
 face, ^^ squeeze a few drops of oil into tlio 
 flickering, expiring wick of my life, to 
 keej:) it burning even one brief hour longer? "
 
 192 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 The Doctor, who, inured though he 
 was to death-bed scenes, could barely mas- 
 ter his emotion sufficiently to keep down 
 and force back all outward manifestation 
 of it, silently drew from his pocket a small 
 crystal phial, with a bright ruby-red liquid 
 in it. He let a few drops of this liquid, 
 which was a most powerful stimulating 
 cordial prepared by himself, fall into about 
 a gill of port wine in a tumbler, which he 
 23ut to his patient's lips, who drained it 
 eagerly (Sir Richard had already had sev- 
 eral glasses of port wine given him, from 
 the moment he had been placed in bed, 
 for the Doctor was a thoroughly rational 
 physician, and knew the inestimable value 
 of stimulants in cases of serious accidents 
 like the one here before him). 
 
 Whatever the other ingredients of the 
 liquid in the Doctor's phial might be, 
 there could be no doubt but that it con- 
 tained musk, as that curious animal secre- 
 tion betrayed its presence at once unmis-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER, 19o 
 
 takeably by its specific odour pervading 
 the apartment. 
 
 The effect upon the patient was almost 
 instantaneous. It seemed as if new life 
 had been poured into his veins; but he 
 felt that it was simply a fictitious and most 
 transient life which thus, for a brief span 
 of time, seemed to re-animate and re-in- 
 vigorate his shattered frame— and he de- 
 termined to make the best use of the short 
 respite granted him. 
 
 He took an affectionate farewell of all 
 present, again warmly thanking Dr John- 
 son for his well-meant efforts, Dr Duttall 
 for his loving care, and entreating Mrs 
 Grainger, his dear sister^ for his sake to 
 control the violence of her grief. 
 
 He trusted the Duke of Dashshire would 
 continue to repose in his sons and successors 
 the same confidence which His Grace and 
 His Grace's father and grandfather had 
 been pleased to repose in him and his own 
 father. 
 
 VOL. I. 13
 
 194 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 He hoped the Baron and Mr Loyd 
 would, in case of need, kindly afford their 
 friendly advice to his son Richard, in so 
 far, of course, he added, with his old pecu- 
 liar smile, so full of meaning, as it might 
 not clash with their own personal interests. 
 
 He, half jesting, half in earnest, told 
 Mr Peel that he entrusted to him the high 
 task of acting as his executor to his " po- 
 litico-financial reform estate.*' The great 
 minister took the matter quite au serieux. 
 He accepted the trust : the marvellous 
 changes in the commercial code of Eng- 
 land, between the years 1841 and 1846, 
 amply testify to the honesty with which 
 that trust was discharged afterwards by 
 the man who made the '^ Salus populiy lex 
 suprema '' the guiding principle of his states- 
 manship . 
 
 To the Bishop, who judiciously kept in 
 the background to the last. Sir Richard 
 said, ^^ ] most heartily thank your Lordship 
 for your presence here — as a friend,'''' he 
 hastened to add, with marked emphasis
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 195 
 
 upon the last word, for lie fancied he saw 
 unctuous flashes of proselytizing longings 
 glide from the corners of the apostolic 
 eyes — the sure forerunners of coming thun- 
 derclaps of all-converting ecclesiastic elo- 
 quence. 
 
 Alas ! he was not mistaken. Regard- 
 less of the disapproving glances of all 
 around, and heedless of the strong hint so 
 evidently meant to be conveyed hj the 
 emphasis which Sir Richard put upon the 
 word friend^ the Militant Churchman, 
 having duly girt his loins for the combat, 
 went straight in at the dying man with 
 most emphatic conjuration, ^' Oh, my 
 friend, my dear, much-mistaken brother in 
 Christ, let me entreat you to think of the 
 salvation of your eternal soul while there 
 is yet time ; let me be the intercessor, the 
 means of saving — " 
 
 He had niuch better have let it alone. 
 His most injudicious and utterly unjusti- 
 fiable attempt to get up a controversial 
 bout at the death-bed of a Nonconformist,
 
 196 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 brought down upon liim a crushing rebuke. 
 '^ My Lord Bishop," Sir Eichard somewhat 
 sternly interrupted the unctuous flow of 
 the pious proffer, just when it was going 
 to roll on at full tide, ^^I need no man's 
 intercession or mediation between my 
 Creator and me ; but even if I had any 
 doubt or misgiving upon the point, believe 
 me, it would certainly not be among the 
 hierarchs of your church that I should 
 choose to look for one. I have still too 
 vivid a recollection of the affair of the 
 hlank cheque you wot of, to yield you im- 
 plicit faith in your self-asserted apostolic 
 call. Indeed, I would not — '' Here, as 
 if ashamed of the temporary passion into 
 which he had allowed himself to be be- 
 trayed, he suddenly stopped ; then, after a 
 short pause, he added, in gentler tones, 
 full of contrition, — ^' I humbly beg your 
 pardon, my Lord, for this hasty and ill- 
 considered outbreak on my part : forgive 
 me for what I have said ; this surely is 
 not a fit time or place to give way to
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 197 
 
 angry feelings. I am convinced your 
 Lordship's offer was well and kindly 
 meant; and though I may not accept it, 
 I return you my hearty thanks for it all 
 the same." 
 
 The Bishop, who was by no means de- 
 void of tact, eagerly and cleverly availed 
 himself of the chance thus offered him to 
 get creditably out of the false position into 
 which his inconsiderate zeal had hurried 
 him. 
 
 "Forgive you, my dear friend?" he 
 exclaimed with fervour. " Ay, I do from 
 the bottom of my heart. It would but ill 
 become me and my sacred office to harbom' 
 feelings of anger and resentment against 
 any of my fellow- men ; but least of all 
 would I harbour such feelings against my 
 eld, staunch, and most valued friend. Sir 
 Richard Ellesdee. Let mc crave your 
 pardon for having so inconsiderately in- 
 truded — " 
 
 Here the Prelate was interrupted by 
 the entrance of Martin, who came to an-
 
 198 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 nounce the arrival of the so anxiously ex- 
 pected cashier. Sir Eichard at once re- 
 quested all present to go out from him into 
 the Library adjoining, with a cheerfull}' 
 given promise that they should all be ad- 
 mitted again the moment his interview with 
 his tried old friend Wilson had come to a 
 close — a promise which could not deceive 
 the three professional gentlemen, who saw 
 but too clearly that the effect of the cordial 
 was rapidly wearing off now, and that the 
 life of their friend and patient was ebbing 
 fast. 
 
 Still they obeyed his wish. 
 
 The cashier was ushered into the 
 apartment by Martin, who then immedi- 
 ately withdrew. 
 
 The two friends were left alone. Thev 
 were both deeply moved. For a time they 
 gazed on eacli other in silence. At last Sir 
 Eichard sjDoke : "I thank the Almighty 
 dispenser of events for this His great 
 goodness shown unto me, that He permits 
 me to look once more upon your face,
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 199 
 
 Wilson, before I leave this world. Poor 
 Mary, you know, is gone before me, killed 
 by the blow which has struck me down ; 
 and my beloved sons are far away — and, 
 after them, you stand nearest to me — I feel 
 I have but little time remaining now. To 
 you I confide my last wishes. I am fully 
 prepared for death. I made my Will some 
 six months ago. I have, I hope and trust 
 prudently, foreseen certain contingencies, 
 and have endeavoured to guard against 
 their injuriously affecting my dearly be- 
 loved sons, and the best interests of the 
 house. Send the first thing to-morrow 
 morning to my solicitor, Mr Draper, he 
 has my instructions and my Will. I have 
 made you one of the executors. I entreat 
 you to continue to my sons the warm and 
 faithful friendship you have given me 
 through life. I recommend more particu- 
 larly my younger son to your loving kind- 
 ness and care — poor Louis may sadly need 
 it. 
 
 ^' In the Cabinet adjoining my private
 
 200 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 room in Lombard Street, there stands an 
 iron safe, fixed against the wall, which 
 contains the most important books and 
 papers of the bank. In a secret recess 
 behind is placed the private record of the 
 firm, the Old Ledger, initiated first by the 
 revered founder of our banking-house. 
 The back plate of the safe is thickly studded 
 all over with brass knobs, disposed in the 
 quincunx order. A slight pressure upon 
 the centre knob of the third quincunx from 
 the middle to the right upwards will dis- 
 close the keyhole to the recess. Here is 
 the key — give it to my son Richard after 
 the reading of my Will, and tell him to 
 peruse, with his brother, the first page of 
 the Old Ledger; and let them both look 
 to it that they reverentially obey its in- 
 junctions, as they value my blessing I 
 
 ^' No eye, except that of the head of 
 the firm for the time, has ever yet glanced 
 on that page. To you, I know, I may 
 safely entrust the key, without fear that 
 other eyes but those of my sons will glance
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 201 
 
 on it now. Not that there is any myster}- 
 in it — it is simply an exhortation to hon- 
 esty and integrity ; but Ave have a super- 
 stition about it. I have done." 
 
 The voice was growing fainter and 
 fainter, the last few words almost dying 
 away in a whisper. Yet Wilson heard 
 every word distinctly. 
 
 He grasped his friend's hand, bent 
 over it, and vowed in a few solemn words 
 that he would be a firm and faithful friend 
 to Richard — a father to Louis. 
 
 After a brief pause Sir Richard spoke 
 again, dreamily, yet now with full clear- 
 ness of voice. 
 
 '' Wilson," he said, " you know we 
 were boys together — hoys^ Wilson ! it is 
 long, long ago ; but they were blessed 
 days. We loved each other so dearly !" 
 
 Then, after some slight hesitation, sud- 
 denly, with an accent of half-timid en- 
 treaty, and a look of unutterable affection, 
 '^ Bob ! dear Bob ! Let me hear you call 
 me once more Dick before I die."
 
 202 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 The little show of composure which the 
 cashier had kept up till now with the most 
 painful efforts, here gave way altogether, 
 and the stern man of hard facts and dry 
 figures, to whom tears had hitherto seemed 
 but as unknown quantities, fairly burst out 
 cr37ing. He knelt, and bending his face 
 down upon his friend's, kissed the cold 
 brow, his hot tears mingling there with 
 the clammy dew of approaching death, 
 and sobbed forth, in broken accents, 
 '^Dick! dearest Dick! my earliest, my 
 truest friend I would God I might die for 
 thee!'' 
 
 The dying man raised himself a little, 
 so as to rest his right hand on his friend's 
 shoulder, and, with a strangely sweet smile 
 suddenly irradiating his pain worn and 
 careworn face, lie slowly syllabled forth, 
 ^' Dear — Bob ! I — am — go — ing — home — 
 for the — holidays !" 
 
 He gently dropt back. The chord 
 had snapped, and the connection between 
 the material part and the subtle particle
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 203 
 
 from the infinite store of universal life, 
 which had for 50 years given it cohesion 
 and motion, and feeling and thought, and 
 passions and pleasure and pain, was sev- 
 ered for ever. 
 
 There were now two corpses lying in 
 Ellesdee House. 
 
 The rumour of the awful catastrophe in 
 which had ended the day of the intended 
 great festival of the Ellesdee House-warm- 
 ing had indeed rapidly spread far and 
 wide ; yet it had failed to reach many of 
 the parties invited to the ball ; and so, till 
 long after midnight, carriage upon carriage 
 drew up at the gate of the hospitable man- 
 sion to discharge its glittering freight of 
 gay guests — whilst the hostess and host 
 lay both stark — the one in the dreary 
 splendour of her apartment up-stairs, the 
 other on tlie ground-floor, near the bril- 
 liantly-lighted gorgeous hall, still resplend- 
 ent with the glories of the feast prepared
 
 204 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 in happy unconsciousness of the coming' 
 crusliing calamity. And so carriage after 
 carriage drove off again with its startled 
 and affrighted tenants even faster than it 
 had come up. A sharp lesson this, indeed, 
 to these gay children of the world, albeit a 
 wholesome one, and a bitter proof of the 
 fleetingness of all human felicity — the 
 nothingness of all things earthly !
 
 BOOK 11. 
 
 OVER THE THRESHOLD. 
 
 IX WHICH IS BELATED HOW SIR RICHARD ELLESDEE, WHO AL- 
 WAYS HAD A WILL OP HIS OWN, HAS ALSO LEFT A WILL OF 
 HIS OWN ; AND THE READER IS PERMITTED A PEEP INSIDE 
 THE OLD LEDGER,
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 THE READING OF THE WILL. 
 
 ^' Le Roi est mort I Vive le roi ! " 
 
 ^^ Sir Richard Ellesdee is dead ! Long 
 life and prosperity to Sir Richard Elles- 
 dee ! " 
 
 It is thus in this world of ours — and 
 well it is that it is so. 
 
 Man's business on earth is with the 
 living, not with the dead. ^' Let the 
 dead bury their dead ! " says the sublime 
 teacher. 
 
 Let a fitting tribute of tears be given 
 to the departed, and let their memory re- 
 main enshrined in the heart of those whom 
 they loved and to whom they were dear 
 in life.
 
 208 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Schiller felicitously calls tears ^^ hu- 
 manity's highest credentials." Shed in fit 
 moderation, they are spherical gems of the 
 purest Avater, which serve to reflect the 
 deepest, noblest, and tenderest feelings of 
 our nature ; but when they are poured forth 
 unceasingly, in diffuse profusion, in the wil- 
 ful perversion of a legitimate sorrow to an 
 extravagant idle grief, they soon tend to 
 subside into a dull watery flat, fit only, at 
 the best, to reflect the ugliness of a cr}^- 
 ing face. 
 
 Let not this be misunderstood. All 
 cjemdne grief is sacred, and entitled to 
 respectful sympathy. 
 
 But to indulge in a permanent fretting 
 fit, and go on moping and mopping for 
 years in selfish sorrow, for the loss of 
 parent, husband, wife, or child, to the 
 neglect of the claims and duties of active, 
 social life, is certainly not a convincing 
 mark of genuine grief. Nay, it is not even 
 a proof of true and heartfelt aflection for 
 the departed object, but simply a sign of
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 209 
 
 an ill-regulated mind and an unregenerate 
 temper that can brook no crosses, and will 
 perversely persist in quarrelling with the 
 Almighty for having snatched away, per- 
 chance, a plaything that had been pa- 
 tiently submissive through life to every 
 caprice of its '^ owner." 
 
 In man grief of this kind is utterly con- 
 temptible. Thank God, there are but very 
 rare instances of it. And even in woman 
 one would think it barely excusable, save 
 upon the charitable supposition of madness. 
 It is a great pity, however, that we should 
 occasionally have to see so much spurious 
 symjDathy shown to such ver}^ sorry sor- 
 row ! Liheravi animam. 
 
 After this digression, return we to our 
 story. 
 
 A month had passed away since the sad 
 events narrated in the last chapter of the 
 first book, and things were runnmg on 
 again in their accustomed groove at El- 
 lesdee House and at the bank. Tlic late 
 Sir Eichard had bec^n replaced by tlie })re- 
 
 VOL. 1. U
 
 210 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 sent Sir Richard, who, as well as his bro- 
 ther, had come back to London immedi- 
 ately upon receipt of the sad news. The 
 first burst of acute ^rief was over. The 
 two sons and the dearest friend of the late 
 banker had recovered from the shock, and 
 were seeking and finding consolation in 
 the faithful discharge of their several du- 
 ties. Even the old butler was all right 
 again, having been frightened into decent 
 composure by a judicious threat to take 
 the key of the muniment room from him, 
 and entrust the guardianship of its trea- 
 sures to other hands. 
 
 The mortal remains of the late banker 
 and his sister had been duly consigned to 
 the tomb in the great Mausoleum in the 
 park of Ellesdee Manor. 
 
 Not without some difiiculty, however. 
 
 When Mr Wilson, on the morning after 
 the banker's deatli, called upon Mr Draper, 
 he found that gentleman, who had already 
 heard of the sad event, on the point of 
 proceeding to Ellesdee House, to take all
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 211 
 
 requisite measures for carrying out the de- 
 ceased's instructions, confided to him some 
 six months before. 
 
 The instructions left by the late Sir 
 Richard for his burial were of the simplest 
 kind. He had expressly forbidden all 
 pomp and ostentation. No embalming of 
 Jils body — if the greedy worms had been 
 permitted to feed upon the fair forms of 
 his two departed wives, why should he 
 consent to have an idle barrier interposed 
 between Ms perishable part and the de- 
 structive agencies of Nature ? ^^ I ex- 
 pressly forbid any burial service to be 
 read over my remains. I will have no 
 presumptuous rites and pompous ceremo- 
 nies performed over my grave," — was the 
 stern Unitarian's explicit direction in his 
 instructions to his solicitor. 
 
 The first difficulty arose at the inquest. 
 
 The cause of Sir Richard's death, one 
 would have thought, was as clear as the sun 
 at noon-day — and Dr Duttall, supported 
 hy Dr Johnson, vouched that Miss Maria
 
 212 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Theresia Ellesdce had died from disease of 
 the heart. The two practitioners had not 
 deemed it necessary, then, to subject the 
 bodies to the slashing and mangling hor- 
 rors of a post-mortem examination, gener- 
 ally so repugnant to the feelings of loving 
 relations and friends. 
 
 But Mr Coroner, forsooth, who was a 
 gentleman professing ultra-radical opin- 
 ions, and who made it his proudest boast 
 that he was no ^'respecter of j^ersons," 
 must insist upon a supplemental post-mor- 
 tem examination to the fullest extent, 
 '' for the better information of the jury ! " 
 
 And there is no knowing what might 
 have happened, despite the most energetic 
 resistance of the late banker's sons, and of 
 Mr Wilson and Mr Draper, and despite 
 Dr Duttall's most cutting and biting re- 
 marks upon the ^ learned" coroner's in- 
 sistance upon this thoroughly useless piece 
 of barbarity, had not the home secretary, 
 who was, fortunately, present at the in- 
 quest, as a witness, thrown the shield of
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 213 
 
 his all-powerful protection over the dead 
 remains. For, of course^ Mr Coroner, 
 who was ^^ no respecter of persons," 
 knocked under at once to Mr Peel's briefly 
 but emphatically expressed opinion, that 
 '^no post-mortem examination was re- 
 quired." 
 
 The next difficulty which presented 
 itself was of a more formidable nature. 
 
 The late banker's elder son, the new 
 Baronet, was a zealous member of the 
 Church of England, with strong High 
 Church leanings. Pressed hard by the 
 Bishop of , and some other influen- 
 tial divines, he had almost been persuaded 
 to set aside his late father's directions 
 respecting the funeral. Sir William Dave- 
 nant also advocated this course. It took 
 all the strength and power of Mr AVil son's 
 unbending will, the most urgent pleadings 
 and entreaties of poor Louis, who rightly 
 thought it sacrilege to depart one iota from 
 his revered father's commands in the mat- 
 ter, and the sternest assertion of Mr
 
 214 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Draper's authority, to prevail upon Sir 
 Richard to allow his father's instructions 
 to be carried out to the letter. 
 
 But, by way of compensation, the body 
 of Miss Maria Theresia Ellesdee was duly 
 embalmed by the newest and most ap- 
 proved process of the period, and placed 
 in a crystal coffin, from which the air was 
 then removed by exhaustion, by means of 
 an ingenious contrivance. This crystal 
 receptacle being properly encased in an 
 oaken shell, and the latter again in a 
 leaden box, the mortal remains of Miss 
 Ellesdee were deposited, with great pomp, 
 in the vaults of the Ellesdee Mausoleum, 
 after the burial service had been read over 
 them twice — once in St George's Church, 
 Hanover Square, then again in Ellesdee 
 Chapel. 
 
 Vanity of vanities ; all is vanity ! 
 
 Wlien the sad news of his father's 
 death reached Louis Ellesdee, his maternal 
 grandmother, tlie Baroness van der Ca- 
 pellen, was no more : she died on the 9th
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 215 
 
 February. By her Will she left the sum of 
 £20,000 in the three per cent. Englisli 
 Consols, to her grandson Adrian Richard 
 Louis Ellesdee, unless he should die before 
 attaining the age of 21 ; in which event 
 the money would go to a distant branch 
 of her own family. 
 
 Miss Maria Theresia Ellesdee had, as 
 has been stated already, after her father's 
 death, ceded to her brother her share in 
 the immense wealth left by their parent, 
 reserving for herself only a life-annuity of 
 five thousand pounds. Naturally of a 
 most liberal and generous disposition, she 
 had saved no extensive economies out of 
 this annual revenue of hers. She left, 
 accordingly, only just money enough to 
 pay the liberal annuities and other legacies 
 bequeathed by her to her two maids, and 
 to some favourite servants of the Ellesdee 
 household. A small portion of her rich 
 jewellery she left to the Duchess of Dasli- 
 shire. Lady Davenant, the Misses Davenant, 
 and some other intimate friends ; tlie
 
 216 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 larger part she left divided between her 
 two nephews, — notably a set of diamonds 
 and pearls, the gift of her imperial god- 
 mother, to the elder; a sapphire coronet 
 and a ruby cross, the gift of her ill-fated 
 young lover, to the younger. 
 
 A month had passed away, then, since 
 the death of Sir Eichard Ellesdee. 
 
 It was the 8th day of March, 1826, 
 the hour, twelve o'clock at noon, the 
 place. Sir Richard's private room at Elles- 
 dee bank, Lombard Street, where there 
 were assembled Sir Richard Ellesdee, Mr 
 Louis Ellesdee, Mr Robert Wilson, Sir 
 William Davenant, Mr Draper, and Mr 
 Jonathan Miller, Notary Public — all of 
 them invited to be present at the reading 
 of the late Sir Richard EUesdee's Will, in 
 conformity with the following clause in the 
 instructions left with Mr Draper : — 
 
 ^^ One month after the date of my de- 
 cease, on the same day of the month, Mr
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 217 
 
 Draper, my solicitor, or, in the event of 
 his death, or hindrances from other causes, 
 his legally appointed successor or lawful 
 representative (should I not previously dis- 
 pose otherwise), will proceed to my private 
 room at Ellesdee and Co.'s bank, in Lom- 
 bard Street, and will there and then, at the 
 hour of noon of the said day, in presence 
 of Mr Jonathan Miller, Notary Public of 
 the City of London, who will take act of 
 the proceedings ; and in presence of my 
 sister, Miss Maria Theresia Ellesdee, my 
 brother-in-law. Sir William Davenant, Bart., 
 my dearest and most valued friend, Mr 
 Robert Wilson, and my two sons, Richard 
 and Louis Ellesdee, all of whom are to be 
 specially invited by the said solicitor to 
 attend on the occasion ; or in presence of 
 such of the parties named as shall attend — 
 produce, exhibit, and read aloud my last 
 Will and Testament deposited by me with 
 liim, my aforesaid solicitor, and entrusted 
 to his care."
 
 218 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 The Notary having opened the pro- 
 ceedmgs in due form, Mr Draper produced 
 a notarial Act bearing date the thu^teenth 
 August, 1825, which he proceeded to read 
 aloud, as follows : 
 
 " This day, the thirteenth August, 
 One Thousand Eight Hundred and Twenty- 
 Five, 
 
 ^^ Before me, Jonathan Miller, of the 
 City of London, Notary Public by Royal 
 Authority, duly admitted and sworn, and 
 in presence of the wittiesses hereinafter 
 named and signed, appeared — 
 
 ''1. Sir Richard EUesdee, Bart., of 
 EUesdee Manor, Yorkshire, and of Lom- 
 bard Street, City of London, banker ; 2. 
 Mr Ebenezer Draper, of Titchfield Street, 
 St James', solicitor. 
 
 '' The said appearer, Sir Richard EUes- 
 dee, produced a paper writing, which he 
 declared to be his last Will and Testa- 
 ment ; he signed the same, and affixed his 
 private seal thereto, in my, the said No- 
 tary's, presence, and in presence of the
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 219 
 
 witnesses, who also set their signatures 
 thereto, 
 
 '' He placed the said paper writing so 
 signed and attested in a paper cover, 
 which he sealed with four seals, two seals 
 of the bank of EUesdee and Co., and two 
 private seals. I, the said Notary, at his, 
 the said appearer's, request, also affixed 
 my seal of office to the same. 
 
 '' The said appearer. Sir Eichard El- 
 lesdee, having superscribed the cover as 
 follows : 
 
 ' Herein is contained my last Will and 
 Testament, which I deposit this day in the 
 hands of Mr Ebenezer Draper, my solicitor. 
 
 ^ London, this thirteenth day of Au- 
 gust, 1825. 
 
 ' Richard Ellesdee.' 
 
 ^'Handed it over, together with another 
 sealed paper writing, which he declared to 
 contain his instructions in the event of his 
 death, to the said appearer, Mr Ebenezer 
 Draper, who, on his part, acknowledged 
 receipt thereof, and promised to act in
 
 220 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 strict accordance with the instructions 
 handed to him. 
 
 " And the said appearers have here- 
 unto set their liands, in my, the said No- 
 tary's, presence, and in the presence of 
 
 ^U. Mr John Charles Brackley, of 13, 
 Old Broad Street, London, tide-waiter ; 
 and 
 
 " 2. Mr William Francis Elmsley, of 38, 
 Cheapside, London, jeweller. 
 
 ^^ Witnesses required to the Act, who 
 have also hereunto set their names. 
 
 '' London, this thirteenth day of Au- 
 gust, 1825. 
 
 ^' ElCHARD ElLESDEE. 
 
 '^ Ebenezer Draper. 
 C John Charles Brackley, 13, 
 
 a \;\^itnesses J ^^^ Broad Street, London. 
 I William Francis Elmsley, 
 [ 38, Cheapside, London. 
 ^' In witness whereof I have hereunto 
 set my hand and seal of Office. 
 
 ^^ London, this thirteenth day of Au-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 221 
 
 gust, in the Year of Our Lord One Thou- 
 sand Eight Hundred and Twenty- Five. 
 (L. S.) '^ Jonathan Miller, 
 
 Not. Pub." 
 
 Mr Draper then produced and exhibited 
 a pa]3er parcel enclosed in a cover, sealed 
 with two seals of the bank of Ellesdee and 
 Co., two private seals of the late Sir 
 Richard Ellesdee, and Mr Jonathan Mil- 
 ler's seal of Office, and bearing the follow- 
 ing superscription : 
 
 ^^ Herein is contained my last Will and 
 Testament, which I deposit this day in the 
 hands of Mr Ebenezer Draper, my solicitor. 
 
 '' London, this thirteenth day of Au- 
 gust, 1825. 
 
 ^^ EiCHARD Ellesdee." 
 
 The seals having been duly inspected 
 and recognized intact by the parties pre- 
 sent, Mr Draper broke them, removed the 
 envelope, and proceeded to read aloud the 
 enclosure contained therein, as follows :
 
 222 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 ^^ This day, the thirteenth day of Au- 
 gust, 1825, 1, Richard EUesdee, of the City 
 of London, banker, being in full possession 
 of all my faculties, and entirely free to 
 dispose, and although at present in the en- 
 joyment of perfect health, conscious of the 
 uncertainty of life, have resolved to make 
 my Will, which I now proceed to write 
 down with my own hand, as follows : 
 
 I. 
 
 ^^ First and foremost, I hereby formally 
 and absolutely revoke, cancel, and annul 
 all and every and any previous Testament 
 or Codicil made by me, whether the same 
 exist in the original, or as an attested 
 copy, or in any other form or shape what- 
 soever. 
 
 II. 
 
 ^^I commend my immortal soul to the 
 Creator and Father of all things, with 
 cheerful confidence in His infinite mercy. 
 
 III. 
 
 ^^ As for my perishable part, the in-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 223 
 
 structions accompanying this my last Will 
 and Testament, which will be handed by 
 me to my solicitor, and entrusted to his 
 safe keeping, jointly with the same, con- 
 tain my directions respecting the time, 
 place, and manner of my burial. 
 
 IV. 
 
 " I devoutly pray to the Almighty that 
 He may vouchsafe unto me to die in peace 
 with all the world. I trust I have never 
 intentionally or wittingly done a grievous 
 wrong or a serious injury, or given wilful 
 offence, to any one. Should I ever have 
 done so unwittingly, I sincerely crave for- 
 giveness for such transgression ; the same 
 as I in all sincerity of heart forgive most 
 fully and amply all and every offence or 
 injury that I may ever have suffered at the 
 hands of others. 
 
 V. 
 
 *' As regards the disposal of the worldly 
 wealtli which it has pleased the Almighty 
 to bestow upon me, I will and order, in 
 the first place, that
 
 224 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 A. 
 
 ^^1. The sum of Twenty Thousand 
 Pounds sterling be taken out of my estate 
 by my executors hereinafter-named and 
 appointed, to be devoted by them to such 
 charitable uses and purposes as they may 
 deem fit. 
 
 ''2. I give and bequeath to Jfr^ Emma 
 Grainger J my housekeeper and foster-sister, 
 in acknowledgment of her long and faith- 
 ful service, the sum of Two Thousand Five 
 Hundred Pounds sterling, for her own sole, 
 free, and absolute use and benefit; also a 
 life-annuity of One Hundred and Twenty- 
 Five Pounds sterling per annum. I further 
 bequeath to her my gold snufi"-box, which 
 has my name engraved in full on the lid — 
 as a mark of my afiectionate regard for 
 her, and as a token of remembrance. 
 
 "3. I give and bequeath to my old 
 and faithful butler, Jonathan Ellison, the 
 sum of One Thousand Five Hundred 
 Pounds ; also a life-annuity of One Hun- 
 dred Pounds sterling per annum. I fur-
 
 THE OLD LEDGEE. 225 
 
 tlier bequeath to him my own silver drink- 
 ing cup, which has my initials engraved 
 on it, with the legend ^ Be moderate in all 
 things^ as a mark of my personal regard 
 and a token of remembrance. 
 
 ^^4. I give and bequeath to my faith- 
 ful valet, 3Iartin ClanJcey^ the sum of Seven 
 Hundred and Fifty Pounds sterling ; also 
 a life-annuity of Eighty Pounds sterling 
 per annum. I further bequeath to him 
 my gold watch, made by Dent, together 
 with the chain and seals, as a mark of my 
 personal regard and a token of remem- 
 brance." 
 
 (Here followed from 5 to 42 a number 
 of other bequests, legacies, and annuities 
 left to the servants of the Ellesdee house- 
 hold, and to the clerks, &c., employed in 
 the bank of Ellesdee and Co., which it 
 would take up too much space to specify.) 
 
 ^^43. I direct my executors hereinafter 
 named and appointed, to pay and lunid 
 over to the persons severally named the 
 foregoing legacies and bequests enumer- 
 
 VOL. I. lO
 
 226 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 ated and specified sub. 2 to 42, incl., within 
 one calendar month after the opening of 
 this my last Will and Testament; the 
 whole of these legacies and bequests to be 
 clear of legacy duty. The annuities to 
 run from the day of my decease. 
 
 B. 
 
 ^^1. I give and bequeath to my trusty 
 old friend, Mr Robert Wilson, head cashier 
 in Ellesdee and Co.'s bank, the sum of 
 Ten Thousand Pounds sterling, clear of 
 legacy duty. I bequeath to him, in token 
 of my most affectionate regard, my life- 
 size portrait, by Lawrence, which hangs 
 now in the library of Ellesdee House, 
 Grosvenor Square. 
 
 ''2. I give and bequeath to my excel- 
 lent solicitor and friend, Mr Ehenezcr Draper, 
 the sum of One Thousand Pounds sterling. 
 I leave to him also, in token of my regard 
 and esteem, my double-barrelled Manton, 
 presented me by my late father-in-law, the 
 Baron van der Capellen ; and further, one
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 227 
 
 of my three sets of Plates of Hogarth's 
 works — the one in ebony frames. 
 
 ^^ S. To my brother-in-law, Sv' William 
 Davenant^ Bart,, of Davenant Hall, Lan- 
 cashire, I leave one of my duplicate copies 
 of Plantings Polyglot Bible — the one bound 
 in red velvet, profusely studded over with 
 pearls and turquoises, and with a sapphire 
 cross set in the centre of the front cover. 
 I beg him to accept this magnificent speci- 
 men of the arts of printing and binding in 
 the sixteenth century, as a mark and in 
 token of my brotherly love. 
 
 ^^4. To Lady Angelina Davenant^ the 
 wife of mv aforesaid brother-in-law, I leave 
 the great Pashmina Cashmere shawl pre- 
 sented to my first wife by the Marquis of 
 Cornwallis ; also the diamond clasp be- 
 longing to it. I beg her to kindly accept 
 this slight token of my affectionate love 
 and regard." 
 
 (Here followed, from 5 to 28, a number 
 of similar bequests to other relations and
 
 228 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 friends, which I am sure the reader will 
 willingly excuse me for omitting.) 
 
 C. 
 
 ^' After my late father's death, my dear 
 sister, Maria Theresia Ellesdee^ ceded and 
 made over to me absolutely her half-share 
 in the estate bequeathed to us, share and 
 share alike, by our revered parent's Will. 
 I accepted this cession reluctantly and 
 under protest, and I have since repeatedly 
 — she knows how often — endeavoured to 
 induce her to re-consider and revoke this 
 step ; but she has always firmly and reso- 
 lutely adhered to it ; indeed, she at last 
 exacted a solemn promise from me never 
 to recur to the subject again. 
 
 '^ I think, then, I can make no more 
 welcome bequest to my most dearly be- 
 loved sister, or give her a warmer proof of 
 my fraternal love, than by recording here 
 my final, free, and grateful acceptance of 
 her most generous gift. I also bequeath 
 to her what she knows has, since our re- 
 vered parent's deatli, been held by me the
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 229 
 
 most precious of all my worldly posses- 
 sions — our father's signet ring, which I 
 wear, and shall wear to the hour of my 
 death, on the middle finger of my right 
 hand. 
 
 D. 
 
 ^^ At a vast expenditure of time, money, 
 and labour, and with infinite research and 
 patience, I have succeeded at last in getting 
 together what I think I may, without 
 boasting, call one of the most extensive 
 and valuable collections of the most pre- 
 cious treasures of art, and the rarest relics 
 of antiquity ; which I would guard, in so 
 far as lieth in the power of man, against 
 the sad fate which but too often awaits 
 collections of the kind— dispersion by the 
 auctioneer's hammer. 
 
 ^' I will and order, therefore, that my 
 entire collection of antiquities, paintings, 
 prints, books, manuscripts; statues, sculp- 
 tures, and carvings in stone, metal, wood, 
 or any other material ; bronzes, porcelains, 
 antique furniture, and articles of vcrtii in
 
 230 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 general of every kind and description 
 whatsoever, as enumerated, classified, and 
 specified in the catalogue ralsonne^ which will 
 be found among my papers, be consoli- 
 dated and constituted into an inalienable 
 and indivisible heirloom, to descend first 
 to my elder son, Richard Ellesdee^ and the 
 heirs male of his body lawfully begotten, in 
 regular succession in the male line, the 
 elder branch always taking precedence 
 over the younger branch in the same line 
 of descent ; with absolute exclusion of the 
 female branches. 
 
 ^^ And in default or failure of such lawful 
 male descendants of my said elder son Rich- 
 ard, after his death, or after the extinction 
 of his issue, in the direct male line, to my 
 younger son, Adrian Richard Louis Ellesdee^ 
 and the heirs male of his body lawfully be- 
 gotten, in the same manner, and also with 
 absolute exclusion of the female branches. 
 
 ^^ In the event of the failure or extinc- 
 tion of the direct male line of both my said 
 sons, I will and order that the aforesaid
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 231 
 
 <;ollection in its entirety become the pro- 
 perty of the British nation, to form, under 
 the name of ^^ the Ellesdee Collection," a 
 distinct and separate part of the great Brit- 
 ish Museum now in course and progress 
 of formation. 
 
 E. 
 
 ^^I will and order likewise that the 
 whole of the gold and silver plate found in 
 my possession at the time of my decease, 
 together with the splendid collection of 
 cups, goblets, and bowls handed down in 
 our family from father to son since the 
 days of my ancestor, Richard Ellesdee, 
 the famous goldsmith, be also consolidated 
 and constituted into an inalienable and 
 INDIVISIBLE HEIRLOOM, to descend first to my 
 elder son, Richard Ellesdee ^ and the heirs male 
 of his body lawfully begotten, in regular 
 succession in the male line, the elder branch 
 always taking precedence over the younger 
 branch in the same line of descent ; with 
 exclusion of the female branches. 
 
 '* And in default or failure of such law-
 
 232 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 ful male descendants of my said elder son 
 Richard, after his death, or after the ex- 
 tinction of his issue in the direct male line, 
 to my younger son, Adrian Richard Louis 
 EllesdeCj and the heirs male of his body law- 
 fully begotten, in the same manner, and 
 also with exclusion of the female branches. 
 
 ^^ And in default or failure also of such 
 lawful 7nale issue of my said younger son, 
 Adrian Richard Louis, after his death, 
 or after the extinction of his issue in the 
 direct male line, to the heirs female lawfully 
 begotten of my said elder son Richard, in 
 the same regular succession, and the male 
 branch always taking precedence over the 
 female branch in the same line of de- 
 scent. 
 
 '^ And in default or failure also of such 
 lawful female descendants of my said elder 
 son Richard, and their lawful issue, to the 
 heirs female lawfully begotten of my said 
 younger son, Adrian Richard Louis, in the 
 same manner and succession. 
 
 '^And in the event, finally, of the ex-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 233 
 
 tinction of both the male and the female 
 lines of my said two sons, 
 
 "1. The aforesaid collection of cups, 
 goblets, and bowls, as enumerated and spe- 
 cified in a special catalogue raisonne^ which 
 will be likewise found among my j)apers, 
 to go to the British Museum, and to form 
 there an integral part of the ^ Ellesdee 
 Collection ; ' and 
 
 ^^2. The gold and silver plate to be 
 sold by public auction, and the proceeds of 
 such sale to be handed to the Lord Chan- 
 cellor, the Speaker of the House of Com- 
 mons, and the Lord Mayor of the City of 
 London for the time being, jointly, to be 
 devoted by them to such charitable uses 
 and purposes as they may agree upon. 
 
 F. 
 
 ^' As regards my real estate, I will and 
 order that 
 
 ^'1. My estate of Ellesdee Manor, near 
 Sheffield, in Yorkshire ; 
 
 *^ 2. My freehold house in Grosvenor 
 Square, London, County of Middlesex ; and
 
 234 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 '' 3. Whatever other landed property 
 and real estate I may be seized and pos- 
 sessed of at the time of my decease, except 
 the bank buildings in Lombard Street and 
 elsewhere, be consolidated and constituted 
 into a STEiCT entail, which I hereby de- 
 vise to my heirs and successors, settling 
 the rule of descent as follows : 
 
 '^ a. The said estate, consisting, as afore- 
 said, of EUesdee Manor, Yorkshire ; EUes- 
 dee House, Grosvenor Square, London, 
 and all and any other landed property and 
 real estate I may be seized of at the time 
 of my decease, except the bank buildings 
 in Lombard Street and elsewhere, to go 
 first to my elder son, Eichard EUesdee^ and 
 to the heirs male of his body lawfully be- 
 gotten, in regular succession, in the male 
 line, the elder branch always taking prece- 
 dence over the younger branch in the 
 same line of descent ; with exclusion of the 
 female branches. 
 
 ^'h. In default or failure of such lawful 
 male descendants of my said elder son
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 235 
 
 Eicliard, after his death, or after the ex- 
 tinction of his lawful issue in the direct male 
 line, to my younger son, Adrian Richard 
 Louis EUesdee^ and the heirs 7nale of his 
 body lawfully begotten, in the same man- 
 ner as directed and specified sub. a. 
 
 '^ c. In default or failure of such lawful 
 male descendants also of my said younger 
 son, Adrian Eichard Louis, after his death, 
 or after the extinction of his lawful issue in 
 the direct male line, to the heirs female law- 
 fully begotten of my said elder son Rich- 
 ard, and their lawful issue, male and female^ 
 in regular succession, the elder branch 
 always taking precedence over the younger, 
 and the male over the female^ in the same 
 line of descent. 
 
 ^^ d. In default or failure of such lawful 
 female descendants also of my said elder 
 son Richard, and of their lawful issue, after 
 the total extinction accordingly of my said 
 elder son Richard's lawful issue in both 
 the male and the female line, to the heirs 
 female lawfully begotten of my said younger
 
 236 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 son Adrian Richard Louis, and their law- 
 ful issue, male and female^ in the same 
 manner as directed and specified sub. c. 
 
 " ^. In the event of the total extinction 
 of both the male and the female line, of the 
 lawful descendants of my said two sons, to 
 my dear friend, Mr Robert Wilson, of Bry- 
 anstone Square, London, and Billericay, 
 in the county of Kent, at present head 
 cashier in EUesdee and Co.'s bank, and 
 to the heirs male and female of his body 
 lawfully begotten, in regular succession, 
 but with precedence always of the male 
 branch over the female branch in the same 
 line of descent. 
 
 ^' f. In the event of the total extinction 
 also of both the male and the female line 
 of the lawful descendants of the said Robert 
 Wilson, to my brother-in-law. Sir AVilliam 
 Davenant, of Davenant Hall, Lancashire, 
 Bart., and to the heirs male and female of 
 his body lawfully begotten, in regular suc- 
 cession, but with precedence always of the
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 237 
 
 male branch over tlie female branch in the 
 same line of descent. 
 
 '' g. And, finally, in the event of the 
 total extinction also of both the male and 
 the female line of the lawful descendants 
 of the said Sir William Davenant, Bart., I 
 devise the absolute remainder in the afore- 
 said estates of 1, EUesdee Manor, York- 
 shire ] 2, Ellesdee House, Grosvenor 
 Square, London ; and of any and every 
 other real estate I may be seized of at the 
 time of my decease, except the bank build- 
 ings in Lombard Street and elsewhere, 
 
 ^' To the Governors for the time being 
 of St Bartholomew's Hospital, in the City 
 of London, to be applied by them for the 
 benefit of that great charitable institution, 
 upon condition that two new wards, of 
 15 beds each, be added to the hospital, 
 one for the reception of maUj the other for 
 the reception oi female patients, in all cases 
 of accident or other instant necessity, and 
 in the case of patients unable to procure a
 
 238 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 recommendation by one of the Governors 
 of or subscribers to the hospital, but who 
 may be in urgent need of medical or 
 surgical assistance — all considerations of 
 country or creed to be absolutely dis- 
 carded in the case of such patients. 
 
 G. 
 
 '^ I enjoin upon my executors, and 
 upon my solicitor, Mr Draper, to take all 
 necessary and requisite steps and mea- 
 sures as soon after the publication and 
 proving of this my last Will and Testa- 
 ment as may conveniently be, to carry out 
 to the fullest extent, in letter and spirit, my 
 instructions here given, sub. D, E, and F, 
 respecting the consolidation of the Ellesdee 
 collection into an inalienahle and indivisible 
 heirloom^ as specified sub. D ; the consolid- 
 ation of 'my gold and silver plate, cups, 
 goblets, and bowls into a similar heirloom^ 
 as specified sub. E ; and the consolidation 
 of all my real estate into an entail, as 
 specified sub. F.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 239 
 
 H. 
 
 ^^ Now, as regards ray residuary estate, 
 all and every my household furniture and 
 effects whatsoever, goods and chattels, not 
 included in or disposed of in any of the 
 preceding clauses and paragraphs ; money 
 or monies, in possession, or which may 
 be due or owing to me at the time of my 
 decease, and all my personal property of 
 every description whatsoever, whether in 
 possession, reversion, remainder, or ex- 
 pectancy, which I may be possessed of or 
 entitled to at the time of my decease, 
 and which is not included in the provisions 
 of any of the preceding clauses and 23ara- 
 graphs — Notably, my share and interest in 
 tlie Bank of Ellesdee and Co.^ in Lombard 
 Street^ Citfj of London, and in all the several 
 hranches thereof with hiiildings and 'plant of 
 every hind and description appertaining or 
 attached thereto — in short, all the residue 
 and remainder of my estate or effects, real 
 or personal, Avhether in possession, rever- 
 sion, remainder, or exj^ectancy, not in-
 
 240 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 eluded in or disposed of in any of the 
 foregoing clauses and paragraphs of this 
 my last Will and Testament, and remaining 
 after payment of my just debts and of all 
 bequests and legacies, and after due provi- 
 sion for the payment of all annuities be- 
 stowed or settled by me in any of the 
 foregoing clauses and paragraphs of this 
 my said last Will and Testament, 
 " I order and direct as follows : — 
 ^' It has always been the most ardent 
 wish of my heart to have both my dear 
 and equally beloved sons succeed me in 
 the bank of Ellesdee and Co., with equal 
 shares and equal rights ; and I sincerely 
 trust and believe that if the Almighty be 
 pleased to grant me life and health, I shall 
 succeed in time in preparing all matters 
 in such manner as will ultimately fully 
 enable me to cancel and annul the clause 
 here following, and to devise my share 
 and interest in the bank and the whole of 
 the residue and remainder of my estate 
 tmconditionalhj to my two sons, Richard
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 241 
 
 Ellesdee and Adrian Richard Louis Ellesdecj 
 share and share alike. 
 
 '^ But weighty reasons compel me, at 
 least, to postpone for a time acting upon 
 this my heart's dearest wish. 
 
 '' I see> indeed, in my younger son, 
 Adrian Richard Louis, ample evidences of 
 many of the highest and noblest qualities 
 of heart and mind, and bright promises for 
 the future ; yet I cannot and must not shut 
 my eyes, on the other hand, to certain 
 serious and even dangerous drawbacks in 
 his disposition — unreflecting impulsiveness, 
 self-willedness, indolence, love of luxury, 
 with a tendency to indulge in lavish ex- 
 travagance of expenditure, and a constitu- 
 tional inability to say ^ No ' to any appeal 
 to his good nature, however so unreason- 
 able. 
 
 " My experience of life and man has 
 taught me this great lesson, that liberality 
 and generosity, noble qualities in them- 
 selves, may, by an over-free indulgence in 
 the exercise of them, unrestrained by the 
 
 VOL. I. 16 '
 
 242 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 curb of a sage discretion^ be made to de- 
 generate into the gravest and most dan- 
 gerous defects in the character of a man. 
 
 ^^Now, my son Louis is liberal and 
 generous to a fault. He knows not yet 
 the true value and the proper uses of 
 wealth. He lacks that stern sense of right 
 and honour quand meme, that unswerving 
 integrity, that inflexible rigidness of prin- 
 ciple, which forms the most distinguishing 
 feature of his elder brother's character. 
 
 ^'I doubt not but that precept and 
 example, and a father's tender teaching 
 and indulgent reproof, will in time suc- 
 ceed in curing my dearly beloved son 
 Louis of these foibles and failings, and in 
 making him in every way fit to take his 
 proper place, by the side of his brother, at 
 the head of the house of Ellesdee and Co. 
 But the life of man is uncertain, and I may 
 be snatched away from him ere that de- 
 sirable reformation is yet accomplished. 
 
 '' To place great wealth at the free dis- 
 posal of a J'oung man like my son Louis,
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 243 
 
 ere he is yet fully fit to be trusted, without 
 fear, with the free and unrestrained man- 
 agement of it, appears to me a perilous act, 
 fraught with imminent danger to the young 
 man's best and truest interests — an act 
 which no prudent loving father should or 
 would commit. 
 
 ^' An over-easy disposition, excessive 
 'goodnature^'' a leaning to indolence, love 
 of luxury, profuse liberality, and prodigal 
 generosity, are but indifferent companions 
 and dangerous pilots in any walk of life — 
 in the calling of a banker they are abso- 
 lutely fatal. 
 
 *^ A banker, no matter how great his 
 personal wealth may happen to be, has 
 almost invariably the control of still much 
 larger funds belonging to other people, 
 and entrusted by them to him in the 
 fullest confidence in his uprightness and 
 integrity. 
 
 '^ In fact, the greater and more firmly 
 established the reputation of his wealth 
 and honour, the greater is also the confi-
 
 244 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 dence reposed in him by the public, and 
 the larger are the capitals entrusted to his 
 hands. 
 
 '^Let it be well borne in mind that 
 these funds, entrusted to a banker's safe- 
 keeping by his customers, are a sacred 
 deposit, which must, on no account, and 
 for no consideration, ever be touched or 
 dealt with in any other save in the recog- 
 nized legitimate way of banking. 
 
 ^^No doubt a banker may plead his 
 right to engage in speculative ojDerations 
 beyond the sphere of his proper business, 
 so long as he confines such operations 
 within the limits of his oivn private funds ; 
 though the more j)rudent and more Jionest 
 course — ^the one which our house, thank 
 God ! has pursued unswervingly for more 
 than two centuries now — is to abstain from 
 them altogether. 
 
 ^^ But for a banker to engage in hazard- 
 ous speculations with the trust-monies of 
 the bank's customers is, under all and 
 any circumstances, tantamount to a fraud
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 245 
 
 upon those who have confided their funds 
 to his honour. 
 
 " Unfortunately, instances are by no 
 means wanting in which bankers have thus 
 betrayed the trust reposed in them. 
 
 '' Love of luxury, w^asteful expenditure, 
 and wanton extravagance, combined with 
 the careless indolence and inattention to 
 business naturally attendant upon them, 
 will, in the long run, be sure to end in in- 
 volving even bankers of great substantial 
 personal wealth in difficulties. The profits 
 arising from legitimate banking operations 
 proving insufficient in the end, in such 
 cases, to keep pace with the lavish expen- 
 diture of the head or heads of the firm, 
 hazardous speculations, which promise large 
 gains, are resorted to — in the first instance, 
 most likely, with the firm's own capital 
 and private means ; but as speculative 
 operations of the kind have naturally a 
 fatal tendency to turn out disastrous 
 failures, the next inevitable step in the 
 facile downward course — unless innate
 
 246 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 honour in the banker, and a deep .sense of 
 moral responsibility, forbid it — is to horroio 
 the customers' money from the bank-till, 
 and go on parting with it in the great 
 game of speculation, urged on irresistibly 
 by the insane hope that one successful 
 great coup will make matters all straight 
 and pleasant again. 
 
 ^' The lamentable final results and issue 
 are but too often recorded on the files of 
 the Bankruptcy Court — sometimes fatally^ 
 even, in the Newgate Calendar. 
 
 ^' I knew the unfortunate Henry Faunt- 
 leroy. He was unquestionably a clever 
 man of business and an indefatigable 
 worker, and gave his attention personally 
 and unremittingly to the conduct of the 
 afikirs of the firm with which he was con- 
 nected, so unhappily for all parties. He 
 was gifted also with many great and good 
 qualities, which endeared him to all who 
 knew him — yet, unsupported by a proper 
 sense of honour and strict integrity of
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 247 
 
 principle, availed they liim nought, but 
 served rather to hurry him on the faster to 
 his fatal doom ! A sad lesson and a solemn 
 warning to all placed in a similar position, 
 and exposed to the same temptations which 
 lured him to his fall and ruin." 
 
 ^^But too true," Mr Draper here in- 
 terrupted his reading. '^ I also knew poor 
 Henry intimately, and I liked him well. 
 Poor fellow ! he was always full of faith 
 in an imaginary star of his, and believed 
 to the last that some lucky turn would 
 set him all right in the end. He positively 
 declined availing himself of my proffered 
 services when the storm first burst over 
 him — so blind was he even at that time 
 to the fearful nature and extent of his 
 danger. When all was lost, he entreated 
 me to keep his sad fate from the know- 
 ledge of his poor mother. In this I have 
 succeeded, thank God ! I wonder whether 
 he might not have been saved, at least, from 
 being put to the worst use society can put a
 
 248 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 man to. However — no matter. I beg your 
 pardon, gentlemen, for this fit of musing 
 of mine. Let us proceed with the Will." 
 
 He then went on reading where he had 
 left off. 
 
 ^' Now, though Heaven forfend that I 
 should fear a son of mine, the inheritor of 
 an honest name that has been handed 
 down stainless from generation to genera- 
 tion for nearly three centuries and a half, 
 could ever be guilty of the least departm^e 
 from the strict path of honour, I yet think 
 it behoves me, as a loving father and a 
 prudent man, to shield, in so far as lieth 
 within the power and limits of human wis- 
 dom and foresight, my younger son Louis 
 from the dangers which might threaten 
 him, by reason of his youth and inexpe- 
 rience, or from his over-generous disposi- 
 tion and the other infirmities of his nature. 
 
 ^' My son Louis is now in his twentieth 
 year. In about twenty months from this 
 present time he will attain his legal ma- 
 jority. I am fully convinced in my mind
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 249 
 
 that it will require a much longer time 
 than this to effect that thorough reformation 
 and change in his character and disposition 
 which alone can fit him for the high and 
 responsible position of a partner in our 
 house. 
 
 ^^ I have, therefore, after mature re- 
 flection, decided, and decide and direct 
 hereby, that my aforesaid younger son, 
 Adrian RicJia7'd Louis Ellesdee^ shall, up to 
 the age of twenty-five years fully accom- 
 lolished^ remain a clerk in the bank of 
 EUesdee and Co., to be employed therein 
 in such capacity, and upon such business, 
 as my executors hereinafter-named and 
 appointed may think proper to direct — at 
 an annual salary not exceeding his pre- 
 sent allowance of five hundred 'pounds ster- 
 ling, which I deem amply sufficient for 
 the wants and requirements of a single 
 young man. 
 
 '''■ I entreat my dearly beloved sou 
 Louis, and enjoin upon him, as ho values 
 my paternal blessing, to confine his expenses
 
 250 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 during the period of his probation, strictly 
 within the said annual allowance of five 
 hundred pounds sterling, and to abstain 
 ahsolutehj from increasing the pecuniary 
 means thus placed at his command, by an- 
 ticipating upon his future resources by 
 loans, bills, or in any other way or manner 
 whatsoever. 
 
 ^^ I also direct hereby, that my afore- . 
 said younger son, Adrian Richard Louis 
 EllesdeCj shall not be at liberty to marry 
 without the consent and sanction of my 
 executors hereinafter-named and appointed, 
 before he has fully attained the age of 
 twenty-five years. 
 
 ^^ Should, as I sincerely trust and de- 
 voutly wish, my aforesaid younger son, 
 Adrian Richard Louis Ellesdee^ pass thro ugh 
 this probationary period, to the entire 
 satisfaction of my executors hereinafter- 
 named and appointed, 
 
 *' Then^ and in that case, I direct that, 
 upon his attaining the age of twenty-five 
 years fully accomplished^ he shall take his
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 251 
 
 proper place, by the side of his brother, as 
 a partner in the bank of Ellesdee and Co., 
 and that the assets of the said bank, and 
 the whole of my residuary estate, as speci- 
 fied in the preamble to this clause (H), shall 
 be equally divided, share and share alike, 
 between my aforesaid two sons, Richard 
 Ellesdee and Adrian Richard Louis Ellesdee, 
 
 '' But in the contrary event, which 
 Heaven forfend, should my aforesaid son, 
 Adrian Richard Louis Ellesdee^ set at nought 
 my solemn commands and injunctions, and 
 prove himself, in the opinion of my exe- 
 cutors hereinafter-named and aj)pointed, 
 unworthy or unfit to take his place by the 
 side of his brother as a partner in our 
 house ; or should he marry against the 
 wish, or without the sanction, of my exe- 
 cutors hereinafter-named and appointed, 
 then and in that case I direct 
 
 " That the sum of Two Hundred Thou- 
 sand Founds shall constitute his entire por- 
 tion and share in my estate. 
 
 Of the said Tvjo Hundred Thousand Founds ^
 
 252 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 ^^1. Fifty Thousand Pounds sterling 
 shall, in that case, be paid over to my 
 aforesaid younger son, Adrian Riehard 
 Louis Ellesdee, absolutely, so soon as he 
 has attained the age of twenty-five years. 
 
 ^'2. Fifty Thousand Pounds sterling 
 shall be invested in the British three per 
 cent. Consols, in the names of my executors 
 hereinafter-named and appointed, who will 
 act as trustees, and pay over the interest 
 of the said sum so invested to my said 
 younger son, Adrian Richard Louis El- 
 lesdee. 
 
 ^^3. One Hundred Thousand Pounds 
 sterling shall be invested in the same 
 manner in the British three per cent. 
 Consols, in the names of my executors here- 
 inafter-named and appointed, w^ho will act 
 as trustees, for the use and benefit of the 
 wife and children of the said Adrian 
 Eichard Louis Ellesdee — if any ; the in- 
 terest of such investment to be applied for 
 the use and benefit of such wife and chil- 
 dren of the said Adrian Richard Louis
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 253 
 
 Ellesdee, in such manner, and in such 
 sums, as my executors hereinafter-named 
 and appointed shall think proper to direct. 
 
 " After the death of the said Adrian 
 Richard Louis Ellesdee, Uventij thousand 
 pounds to go absolutely to his widow, the 
 remaining eighty thousand pounds to be di- 
 vided equally between his children, share 
 and share alike. 
 
 ^^I likewise order and direct that the 
 portion specified sub. 2, of fiftf/ thousand 
 pounds sterling^ shall, after the decease of 
 the said Adrian Richard Louis Ellesdee, 
 revert absolutely to my said elder son, 
 Richard Ellesdee, his heirs, executors, ad- 
 ministrators, and assigns. 
 
 ^' And, in the event of the said Adrian 
 Richard Louis Ellesdee remaining un- 
 married, the interest arising from the in- 
 vestment of the portion S2)ecified sub. 3, of 
 One Hundred Thousand Pounds sterling^ shall 
 be paid to my said elder son, Richard 
 Ellesdee, his heirs, executors, adminis- 
 trators, and assigns, to whom the capital
 
 254 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 of One Hundred Thousand Pounds^ so in- 
 vested, shall likewise absolutely revert, 
 after the death of the said Adrian Richard 
 Louis Ellesdee, in the event of his dpng 
 unmarried or a widower, and without 
 leaving lawful issue. 
 
 I. 
 
 ^' Should, which the Almighty in His 
 infinite mercy forbid, my elder son, Richard 
 Ellesdee, die intestate, and without leaving 
 lawful issue, I order and direct hereby 
 that my oldest and dearest friend, Mr 
 Robert Wilson, at present head cashier in 
 our bank, shall step into his place absolutehj 
 as head and manager of the bank of Elles- 
 dee and Co. ; likewise, in all and every one 
 of the provisions of the preceding clause 
 (H), wherever the name of my said elder 
 son, Richard Ellesdee, occurs, the name of 
 the said Robert Wilson shall, in the event 
 here foreseen in this clause (I), be substi- 
 tuted for the name of the said Richard 
 Ellesdee.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 255 
 
 J. 
 
 '^ I wish my son Richard to retain in 
 his employ and service all persons who 
 may, at the time of my decease, be in my 
 employ and service. 
 
 K. 
 
 ^^ I recommend my son, Eichard EUes- 
 dee, as sole head and manager of the bank 
 of Ellesdee and Co., after my decease, to 
 renew with his uncle. Sir William Dave- 
 nant, my brother-in-law, the deed of part- 
 nership first entered into in the year 1798 
 l)etween my revered father, the late Sir 
 Richard Ellesdee, and the said Sir William 
 Davenant, and subsequently renewed in 
 the year 1806 between the said Sir William 
 Davenant and me. 
 
 L. 
 
 '^ I have written this my last Will and 
 Testament entirely with my own hand 
 from beginning to end ; and I solemnly- 
 aver that I have made it absolutely joropno 
 motUj and without consulting my solicitor
 
 256 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 or any otlier person in the devising of its 
 clauses and provisions. 
 
 ^^ As I am in sound mind, and quite 
 free to dispose of my estate in any rational 
 way I deem fit, I hope and trust that this 
 my last Will and Testament will be duly 
 respected and submitted to by all parties 
 concerned or interested therein. 
 
 ^'In the improhable event of any objec- 
 tion or opposition to any of its clauses or 
 provisions, I order and direct that the per- 
 son or persons so objecting or opposing 
 shall be held to have forfeited all and every 
 benefit or interest otherwise accruing to 
 the said person or persons under any of its 
 clauses or provisions, and shall be abso- 
 lutely deprived thereof. 
 
 M. 
 
 '-'' I name and appoint my elder son, 
 Richard Ellesdee J and my oldest and dearest 
 friend, Mr Roher't Wilson, at present head 
 cashier in Ellesdee and Co.'s bank, the 
 executors of this my last Will and Testa-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 257 
 
 ment, and the guardians of my younger 
 son, Adrian Richai^d Louis Ellesdee ; once 
 more revoking hereby all former Wills. 
 
 '^ In witness whereof I have hereunto 
 set my hand and seal, this thirteenth day of 
 August^ One Thousand Eight Hundred and 
 Ttventi/'five. 
 
 (L. S.) ^^ EiCHARD Ellesdee. 
 
 '^ Signed by the testator, 
 Sir Richard Ellesdee, Bart., 
 as and for his last Will and 
 Testament, in the presence 
 of us, present at the same 
 time, who, in his presence, 
 at his request, and in the 
 presence of each other, have 
 hereunto set our names as 
 witnesses. 
 
 '^ John Charles Bracldey^ 
 
 13, Old Broad Street, 
 
 London. 
 '^ William Francis ElmsUfj^ 
 
 38, Cheapside, London." 
 
 VOL. I. 17
 
 258 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 A few minutes' general silence suc- 
 ceeded the reading of the Will, save that 
 Mr Draper muttered to himself, ^^ A curious 
 instrument, this. Egad, Sir Richard need 
 not have mentioned about not consulting 
 his solicitor in the making of it. Cela se 
 voit. Methinks it would not be so very 
 difficult to find flaws in it. But, no 
 matter. It is no business of mine, at all 
 events, to search for them.'' 
 
 Sir William Davenant was the first to 
 speak. During the reading he had repeat- 
 edly betrayed signs of irritation and 
 annoyance, more especially at the para- 
 graph of the Entail Clause, which preferred 
 Mr Robert Wilson over him and his family. 
 He could restrain himself now no lono^er 
 from venting his outraged feelings in pas- 
 sionate invective. 
 
 ^^This is a disgraceful, shameful, in- 
 famous Will," he exclaimed in angry tones. 
 '^ How could my brother possibly allow 
 himself to be induced to treat his own son
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 259 
 
 in this cruel and unj ustifiable manner ! And 
 to leave me nothing but a wretched Bible — " 
 
 Here the worthy Lancashire Baronet 
 stopped short, ashamed at haying thus let 
 the cat slip out of the bag of his feelings, 
 instead of prudently hiding, as he had in- 
 tended, his own bitter disappointment be- 
 hind an assumed warm interest in poor 
 Louis. 
 
 He had soon reason to feel still more 
 annoyed at having allowed himself to be 
 betrayed into this injudicious outburst, as it 
 brought down upon him a sharp rebuke 
 from a quarter from which he^ at least, in 
 the gross conceit of his overweening pride, 
 did not expect it. 
 
 ''You strangely forget yourself. Sir 
 William," said Mr Robert Wilson sternly 
 and severely ; '^ surely such terms as 
 ' disgraceful J shameful^ and inf anions ^ should 
 not be applied to any of the late Sir 
 Richard's acts and deeds. And, permit 
 me to observe to you, that the Bible is a
 
 260 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 good book, Avhicli it would do some people 
 excellent service were they to read it a 
 little oftener, and try to act a little more 
 in the spirit of its teachings. Besides," he 
 added, with the least touch of irony, 
 ^^ consider that the cover of this particular 
 Bible is worth something P 
 
 '-^ Oh, of course you are satisfied with 
 the Will," Sir William Davenant replied, 
 sneeringly. ''Your and your family's in- 
 terests have certainly been consulted in it 
 in a way which shows but too clearly what 
 influence and whose instigation must have 
 been at work upon my poor brother's 
 mind, to induce him to sacrifice the in- 
 terests of his own family to those of a — 
 mere servant in his employ. And this 
 reminds me of it," he added, with a sudden 
 outburst of furious anger, '' You strangely 
 forget yourself, sir^ in daring to address 
 me in this fashion. Why, zounds ! sir, do 
 you forget that you are our servant ? " 
 
 '' Sir William," retorted the cashier 
 with dignity, yet with ill-repressed anger.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 261 
 
 which burst forth more impetuously as he 
 proceeded ; ^^ I repeat I camiot and will 
 not calmly stand by to hear any act or 
 deed of my dear departed friend branded 
 with terms of opprobrium. As to your 
 base insinuations, I treat them with si- 
 lent scorn. But as to my being a servant 
 of yours^ I utterly protest against the as- 
 sumption. I am cashier in the bank of 
 Ellesdee and Co., of which you indeed 
 claim to be a partner — but, let me remind 
 you, only a sleeping partner, with a share 
 in the profits, but without power or in- 
 fluence in the management. Were it 
 otherwise, and were you an active partner 
 in the firm, no consideration on earth 
 would prevent — " 
 
 ^' Stop there, for Heaven's sake, my 
 dear Mr Wilson," anxiously broke in Sir 
 Richard Ellesdee; ^^do not embitter still 
 more this most untoward and most unfor- 
 tunate misunderstanding, which is quite 
 bad enough, in all conscience, as it stands 
 now. And you, uncle," turning to Sir
 
 262 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 William Davenant, ^^ forbear, I most earn- 
 estly entreat you, at least from coupling 
 om^ revered parent's name with epithets 
 which it is certainly not fit that his sons 
 should listen to. I am sure my brother 
 feels as I do upon this subject, and would 
 not—" 
 
 ^^ You rightly interpret my feelings, 
 dear Richard," Louis interrupted ; ^^/find 
 no fault with my dear father's testament- 
 ary dispositions. He surely acted in all 
 he has done from the best, kindest, and 
 wisest motives ; and I gladly and willingly 
 submit me to every command and wish of 
 his. And I solemnly vow here that I will 
 endeavour, to the best of my frail power 
 and ability, to obey his injunctions to the 
 letter." 
 
 ^' Oh, of course, if yon are satisfied," 
 said Sir William Davenant, with an ugly 
 sneer, ^^ I suppose I also must rest content 
 with matters as they stand. And so, as 
 you, all of you, seem to be agreed that 
 everything is right and for the best in this
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 263 
 
 best of Wills, I will no longer disturb this 
 truly charming harmony of feeling by 
 any grumblings of mine. 1 wish you all 
 a very good afternoon." 
 
 With these words Sir William snatched 
 up his hat, and was leaving the room in 
 hot haste, when he was brought to a 
 temporary stop by Mr Jonathan Miller, 
 Notary Public, who cried to him in peal- 
 ing and appealing accents, 
 
 " Stay, Sir William, stay, I pray you. 
 I want your signature to the Act before 
 you go." 
 
 '^ Damn the Act ! " shouted the irate 
 Baronet, rushing from the room, ^'you 
 may — hem — do what you like with it, for 
 aught I care ! " 
 
 Mr Jonathan Miller, in the intensity of 
 his amazement at this coarse and ruthless 
 blow upon the tenderest chords of his 
 Notarial nature, dropped his pen, and sat 
 several seconds gazing in silence after Sir 
 William's retreating form, with his eyes 
 and his mouth opened to their Avidest
 
 264 THE OLD LEDGER, 
 
 extent. Then, shaking his head despond- 
 ingly, he said, slowly and in accents of 
 deep deliberation, ^^ Damn a Notarial Act I 
 an authentic instrument ! ! Why, what 
 on earth does the man mean ? what can he 
 mean ? " 
 
 However, suddenly struck, apparently, 
 with a fear lest others of the parties as- 
 sembled should also give him the slip, as 
 Sir William had done, he briskly bestirred 
 him to get the signatures of all persons still 
 remaining in the room to his Act, which 
 he then completed in due form. 
 
 It was near five o'clock by this time ; 
 the bank was closing, and Sir Richard 
 was preparing to leave Avith his brother, 
 when Mr Wilson took him aside, and, 
 handing a small, exquisitely- wrought key 
 to him, gave him his father's dying 
 message, with the necessary instructions 
 how to discover the keyhole of the door 
 to the recess. 
 
 Sir Richard staid accordingly where he 
 was, and retained his brother likewise,
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 265 
 
 whilst the cashier, the solicitor, and the 
 Notary took their leave and withdrew. 
 
 At the cashier's suggestion, the three 
 gentlemen went to the London Tavern to 
 dine together. 
 
 The Notary's soul, however, was far 
 away from the social meal ; he ate and 
 drank mechanically, and remained all 
 through the dinner plunged in thought. 
 It was clear that he could not get over the 
 deep injury Sir William Davenant's petu- 
 lant and most improper outburst had in- 
 flicted upon his tenderest and holiest 
 feelings. 
 
 When dinner was over at last, and he 
 was taking leave in the street from his two 
 friends, he expressed to them his opinion 
 upon the extraordinary incident, to the 
 following effect : 
 
 ^^ It is my opinion, gentlemen, that Sir 
 William Davenant must have been most 
 woefully disappointed by his brother-in- 
 law's Will, else would lie never have for- 
 gotten himself so far as to — swear at a
 
 266 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Notarial Act, an authentic instrument ! 
 Why, do you know, gentlemen, I'd much 
 rather he had damned me 1 Good night, 
 gentlemen ! good night ! " 
 
 When the Notary had left them, the 
 cashier said, ^^ What I cannot well under- 
 stand in the matter is this^ how a shrewd 
 man of business, as my late friend most 
 unquestionably was, could ever fall into 
 so lamentable a mistake, as to tie up his 
 collection, his plate, and his real property 
 in the extraordinary fashion he has done 
 by his Will. Why, what a rich stream of 
 gold might have been drawn, in case of 
 need, to the cellars of the bank from these 
 sources, now stopped up for ever ! True, 
 he leaves some three millions besides ; but 
 my creed is that a banker never can have 
 too much capital at his disposal. And if a 
 crisis should come — well, never mind! it 
 cannot be helped now. Only it puzzles 
 me to think what could possibly have in- 
 duced Sir Eichard to do it." 
 
 ^^ Pride, I suppose, and that insane
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 267 
 
 hankering after aristocratic trappings^ 
 which would seem to possess the leaders 
 of our wealthy middle class to the extent 
 to make them prefer the humble position 
 of last links at the tail of the Crotalm 
 horridus of our blessed peerage, to theii- 
 proud place at the head of our truly noble 
 gentry," replied the solicitor, who was a 
 gentleman of radical convictions, with a 
 rooted aversion to the titled aristocracy of 
 the land, and was much given to drawing 
 his similes from natural history, the study 
 of which was his own particular hobby. 
 
 By this time they had reached the 
 hackney-coach stand near the bank. 
 
 ^^ Here we are," said Mr Draper, jump- 
 ing into one of the vehicles. ^^ Eussell 
 Square, coachee ! and drive as fast as 
 you can. — Good night, Wilson ! " 
 
 ^^Grood night. Draper!" replied] that 
 gentleman, taking his seat in another 
 coach. ^^ Bryanstone Square, my man, 
 and take care how you drive ! "
 
 268 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 how our forefathers started in business 
 (occasionally). 
 
 When the two brothers were left alone 
 together, Eichard told Louis the last 
 message their departed father had sent 
 them from his death-bed. He then led 
 the way into the cabinet adjoining the 
 private bank parlom^ ; Louis followed. 
 
 Eager to obey their father's dying 
 commands, the brothers set at once about 
 clearing the large iron safe, fixed against 
 the wall of the cabinet, of the books and 
 papers which it contained. 
 
 They then removed the shelves and 
 the inner framework, thus laying the back 
 plate of the safe bare to the view.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 269 
 
 To look at it, and at the heavy screws 
 with which it seemed to be solidly fixed 
 against the wall, no one would have been 
 led to believe that it was anything but 
 what it appeared to be ; least of all would 
 anybody have suspected that it could serve 
 for a door masking a secret recess in the 
 wall behind. 
 
 It looked simply a solid substantial 
 back plate of iron ; the brass knobs, with 
 which it was studded all over, seemed to 
 be placed there, to all outward appearance, 
 merely by way of ornamentation. 
 
 Sir Richard himself had more than 
 once had occasion to look at it, when the 
 safe had been completely cleared out ; but 
 he never had entertained the least suspi- 
 cion of the existence of a recess behind. 
 
 Now, however, acting upon the in- 
 structions which Mr Wilson had given 
 him, he pressed the centre knob of the 
 third quincunx, counting from the middle 
 upwards to the right. 
 
 The instant he did so the centre knob
 
 270 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 of the quincunx in the middle of the plate 
 shot downward about half an inch, dis- 
 closing a small keyhole behind it. 
 
 Upon inserting into this the key which 
 Mr Wilson had given him, and turning it, 
 the entire plate, screws and all, slid slowly 
 and smoothly sideways to the left, disclos- 
 ing a deep recess behind, lined through- 
 out with iron. 
 
 From this recess the brothers drew 
 forth, not without some labour, an im- 
 mense, ponderous old book — some 30 
 inches long, by 18 inches in width, 
 and nearly a foot thick. It was solidly 
 bound in vellum, in the substantial fashion 
 of the period, with elaborately-chased 
 heavy solid gold corners and clasps. 
 
 The brothers carried it between them 
 into the private bank parlour, where 
 they laid it down on the large desk- 
 table which stood in the centre of the 
 room. 
 
 Richard unclasped and opened it at
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 271 
 
 the first" page, according to Mr Wilson's 
 instructions. 
 
 The first page was found by the 
 brothers to have written on it two separate 
 and distinct inscriptions, one beneath the 
 other: the upper in Latin, the lower in 
 English. The Latin writing was done in 
 red ink, the English in black ; — the colours 
 had barely faded in the slightest degree ; 
 they looked almost as fresh, vivid, and 
 intense, as if weeks only had passed, in- 
 stead of centuries, since the writing of the 
 inscriptions. The Latin writing had evi- 
 dently been done by a different hand from 
 the one which subsequently had traced 
 the English. 
 
 The Latin inscription, with its grace- 
 fully-formed fine and fat letters, encircled 
 by a profusion of gay curly flourishes, and 
 set rather wide and straggling, was, most 
 likely, the work of a skilful caligrapher 
 of the period. As the letters composing it 
 stood tastefully arranged in gorgeous array
 
 272 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 around the richly-emblazoned central line, 
 they might not inaptly be compared to 
 the dashing gay cavaliers of Prince Ru- 
 pert's body-guard, curvetting round their 
 brilliant leader. 
 
 The English part, on the other hand, 
 was clearly written by the first founder 
 of the banking-house with his own hand. 
 The letters were firmly and solidly formed ; 
 but they were shorn of all adventitious 
 embellishments, and looked stiff and some- 
 what ungainly; they were set close to- 
 gether, and marshalled in straight heavy 
 lines, with, stiffest and ungainliest, at the 
 head of them, the name of the writer, 
 following immediately under the English 
 form of adjuration. In their stern sim- 
 plicity, straightness, and compactness, they 
 might be compared to the serried ranks of 
 Cromwell's own Ironsides, spurring on 
 after their Iron Chief 
 
 The two brothers read the page before 
 them with a feeling akin to reverential 
 awe.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 273 
 
 The Latin inscription ran as follows : 
 
 ^^ ^OillNE ET SUB INVOCATIOA^^ 
 SA^CTISSIMiE TRIJ^^ITATIS • 
 
 -DEI PATKIS OMNIPOTEXTls 
 DOMINI OPTIMI, 
 
 AC- 
 DEI FILII OMNIAMANTIS, 
 
 JESU CHKISTI, 
 
 S-AI.VATORIS ET SPEI Mt;^'I>I » 
 
 AC 
 
 ^EJ SPIRITOS SANCTI OMNISCIE^I^^' 
 
 LUMINIS ET DIEECTOKIS ilU^iT^I- 
 
 After this followed the English : 
 
 " In the name of God the Father, GtOd 
 
 THE Son, and God the Holy Ghost! 
 
 Amen ! 
 
 '^ I, Richard Ellesdee, 
 
 '' Of the Worshipfull Guilde and Cor- 
 
 VOL. I. 18
 
 274 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 poration of Goldsmithes, umqwhile Ward- 
 enn thereof, a citizen of the Citie of 
 London, feeling Sorelie Troubled with that 
 the Crafte and Businesse of a Goldsmith e 
 hath become Irksomme unto Me, haue 
 lifted My humble Trustfull Prayer to Him 
 Who is the Source of all Light and Under- 
 standing, and by His Lispiration, I hum- 
 blie Trust and Belieue, am Ledd in My 
 Minde to Forsake henceforthe ye aforesayd 
 Crafte and Businesse. And I haue there- 
 uponne Parted with the Same, Consisting 
 of ye Shoppe in Chepeside, in the Warde 
 of Chepe, in the Citie of London, with All 
 the Stock, Materials, and Tooles apper- 
 taining thereto, and All my Go ode Wille 
 and Interest thereinne, for Good and 
 Valid Consideration received, Vnto Jona- 
 than Howell, Whilome my Foremanne, 
 uponne Whom and Whose Undertaking 
 May the Lord in Heauen Send His Best 
 Blessing. Amen ! 
 
 '^ And on this Daye, the third Daye of 
 the Monthe of Januarie, in the Yeere of
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 275 
 
 Grace One Thousand Six Hundred and 
 Eight, which falleth on a Mondaye, and in 
 the Sixth Yeere of King James his reigne, 
 King of Greate Bretaign, France, and Ire- 
 land, Defender of the True Faithe, as in 
 Jesus Christ and His Holie Church, Whom 
 God Almightie preserue, 
 
 ''' Haue I established Me in the New 
 Undertaking and Businesse of a Money 
 Scrivener and Pawnebroker, in Lombard 
 Street, in Whilom Master Carlo Bonissia 
 da Geneva his house, under the Style of 
 ^ Richard Ellesdee,' and under the Sign of 
 ^ the Golden Balance.' And in that I 
 haue chosen this Sign, haue I firmly re- 
 solued, and will most faithfully striue to 
 act in all my Dealings with all Men rightlie 
 and with Equitie, and Alway do unto them 
 as I would be done by. So help me 
 God Almightie, and dealo with me and 
 my Undertaking as I doe deale with them. 
 
 ^' And so doe I Solenmlie uowe and 
 recorde hereby, that I will Alway Avalk in 
 the Path of Righteousnesse, as, by His the
 
 276 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Lord God's Holie Commands, and will Euer 
 and Alway take Honestie and Integritie 
 for my Gruide in all my Acts and Deeds and 
 Dealings. And I Doe Solemnlie promise 
 and uowe that no Profitte or Aduantage 
 howeuer so greate, no Temptation howeuer 
 so lurino^, no Dano^er howeuer so threat- 
 ening, no Consideration of Selfe or Others 
 howeuer so powerfull and urgent, shall 
 euer make me swerue from that straite 
 Path of Honour and Integritie — nay, not 
 One Hair'sbreadth. So help me God and 
 His Holie Gospell. Amen \ 
 
 ^' And I Solemnly call on them as may 
 come after me, and doe enjoine it upon 
 them, as they value my Blessing and the 
 Fauour of Almightie God, to do so likewise, 
 and walke Alway upright before the Lord 
 in the Path of Honour and Fair Dealing 
 with all Men. So will my Blessing and 
 the Lord God's Fauor rest upon them and 
 upon all their Acts and doings and under- 
 takings. Amen ! 
 
 (( 
 
 Richard Ellesdee."
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 277 
 
 Immediately underneath this stood, in 
 a different handwriting, 
 
 ^' I solemnly do here record my vow 
 that I will ever obey this my late revered 
 father's injunction, and always walk in his 
 footsteps. So help me God ! 
 
 ^^ London, 15th August, 1642. 
 
 " Richard Ellesdee." 
 
 And so forth in succession, in different 
 handwritings. 
 
 ^^ So will I, with the Lord's Help and 
 Blessing ! 
 
 ^' London, 3rd November, 1698. 
 
 ^^ Richard Ellesdee." 
 
 '^ I vow that I will take my noble pre- 
 decessors' example for my sole guide in all 
 my doings and dealings. So help me 
 Almighty God ! 
 
 '' London, 7th July, 1761. 
 
 '' Richard Ellesdee." 
 
 And last of all, though to the brothers 
 certainly not least, came the following, 
 traced by their revered departed parent's 
 dear hand :
 
 278 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 '^ I humbly and devoutly pray to the 
 Lord to give me strength to do so likewise. 
 ^'London, 31st January, 1806. 
 
 '' ElCHARD ElLESDEE." 
 
 When the brothers had read down to 
 this, they both fell on their knees with one 
 common, mutual impulse, and Richard's 
 right hand, grasping his brother's left, and 
 the disengaged hand of each reverently 
 laid on the Old Ledger, they both mutely 
 made a solemn vow to prove themselves 
 worthy of their noble ancestry. 
 
 They then rose from their kneeling 
 posture to record this solemn vow on the 
 same page — after which they put back 
 the Old Ledger into the secret recess, and 
 having drawn the iron plate over the 
 opening, and replaced within the safe the 
 inner framework and shelves, and the 
 books and papers, they left the room and 
 the bank in thoughtful silence.
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 TANDEM IN MEDIAS EES. 
 
 IN "WHICH A 2^EW ELEMENT IS INTKODUCED INTO THE STORY- 
 AND AN ACCOUNT GIVEN OF THE FITZGEEALD FAMILY. 
 
 Woman, Lovely Woman ! 
 
 Quae petendi malum causa, semperque maloruni 
 Causa fait.
 
 281 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN WHICH SIR RICHARD ELLESDEE IS SEEN ON 
 HIS WAY TO WOODBINE COTTAGE. ON A CON- 
 GRATULATORY VISIT. 
 
 It was a lovely morning in the be- 
 ginning of the glorious month of July. 
 Nature shone in her most gorgeous, gem- 
 spangled summer garb ; the bright lu- 
 minary of day was successfully hiding 
 behind the intense refulgence of his ra- 
 diant beams, even to the deepest and 
 darkest spots on his serene face ; the birds, 
 the dear little birds ! were warbling their 
 sweetest melodies — and so forth ad libitum^ 
 in the usual, well-known style of pastorals 
 and love-tales, which I am sure the indul- 
 gent reader will gladly permit me to dis- 
 pense with here.
 
 282 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 In brief, then, on a lovely morning in 
 the beginning of July, some few months 
 after the events narrated in the second 
 book, there issued forth through the grand 
 portal of Ellesdee House, an exquisite 
 China vase, with an immense nosegay in 
 it, composed of the choicest English sum- 
 mer flowers, deliciously blended with the 
 rarest exotics, the whole tastefully ar- 
 ranged in every possible form of declara- 
 tion of love and passion in the floral lan- 
 guage, with a rose wrought of gold and 
 precious stones, in the centre. 
 
 Behind this vase, and holding on to it 
 with his left hand, daintily cased in a 
 white satin glove, with crimson and sky- 
 blue embroidery on the back, walked Sir 
 Richard Ellesdee, in full dress, with fault- 
 less frill and resplendent ruffles. 
 
 Great was the marvel, and many were 
 the conjectures among the servants at the 
 unwonted sight. Mrs Grainger, who, with 
 a woman's instinct, guessed the errand on 
 which her master was bound, slily pulled
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 283 
 
 off her right slipper, and threw it after his 
 retreating form. 
 
 Sir Eichard, still preceded, of course, 
 by the vase and nosegay, stepped into 
 his carriage, which was waiting for him at 
 the gate of his mansion, and ordered the 
 coachman to drive to Woodbine Cottage, 
 Pleasant Row, Kennington Lane — evi- 
 dently to the intense amazement of that 
 worthy servitor, who, doubting whether 
 he had heard aright, hesitated some time, 
 and was only prevailed upon to drive on, 
 without further question, by an exhorta- 
 tive ^^ Now then, Jonas, Pleasant Row, 
 Kennington Lane," from the rear, uttered 
 in the calm and even tones of Mr Martin 
 Clankey, the present Sir Richard's own 
 man, as he had been the late Sir Richard's. 
 The occupant of the carriage, having 
 carefully deposited the vase on the front 
 seat, and taken his own seat opposite, fell 
 into a deep fit of musing ; the tenor and 
 train of his thoughts running somewhat in 
 this wise : —
 
 284 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 He wondered would she be astonished ? 
 Of course she would. How could she help 
 it ? An offer by one of the wealthiest men 
 in the land, to her^ in her genteel poverty ! 
 Not that she was not full- worthy of it, — 
 far from that, indeed, — why, she was fit to 
 grace a throne ! Still, she could hardly be 
 prepared to expect this offer. For three 
 years that he had known her now — and 
 loved her — ever since her 15th year, he 
 had never, even by an unguarded glance, 
 betrayed the deep affection he bore her. 
 Now on this her 18th birthday, he had 
 resolved at last to offer her his heart, 
 hand, and fortune. Yes, in about six 
 months hence she would be Lady El- 
 lesdee, to reign absolute over the splen- 
 dours of the magnificent mansion in Park 
 Lane. Would she be pleased ? Well, he 
 flattered himself that she had always 
 shown a kmd of timid and bashful affec- 
 tion for him. There could be no doubt 
 she liked to see him. Then, in the strict 
 retirement in which she and lier mother
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 285 
 
 had lived now for the last three years, he 
 was the only visitor ever admitted into 
 the house, except his brother Louis ; but 
 he was a mere boy. And she never went 
 into society. There was one thing he 
 dreaded — her and her mother's pride, 
 which' he knew but too well, as it had 
 baffled all his generous efforts to aid^ at 
 least, in relieving the genteel penury in 
 which the family lived, upon a Captain's 
 widow's pension, eked out by the scanty 
 proceeds of a few music lessons given by 
 the mother, and by the assiduous exercise 
 of the daughter's talent for landscape 
 painting. 
 
 Why, they would not even permit him 
 to buy her paintings ! at least, not at 
 higher prices than she got for them at the 
 picture dealer's. But he was fully deter- 
 mined this time to carry his point with the 
 young lady ; he would not allow her pride 
 to stand in tlie way of his happiness and 
 hers, by rejecting the offer of his heart 
 and hand, under pretext of inequality of
 
 286 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 fortune and position. He would meet any 
 objection of the kind by throwing into the 
 other scale her vast superiority of ancestry, 
 her most ancient lineage — descended, as 
 she was, on the father's side from the Fitz- 
 Geralds of Offaly, on the mother's side 
 from the Hippisleys of Lea Court, who 
 trace their pedigree from Edward I. and 
 Isabel of Castile, and figure in the Royal 
 Book of England, among the families of 
 Royal descent ! And this one possible 
 objection overcome, what could then stand 
 in the way of his happiness ? He had to 
 consult no one about his acts. True, his 
 uncle would not like this match; that 
 worthy relative of his had set his mind 
 upon making up another money-bag alli- 
 ance between his nephew and his daughter 
 Angelina, who being physically, men- 
 tally, and morally, the very image of her 
 maternal parent, with not a few of the 
 darkest tints of her father's character and 
 disposition thrown in to give yet deeper
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 287 
 
 gloom to the picture, would be a bitter pill 
 indeed to swallow for any man, the some 
 £400,000 gilding about her notwithstand- 
 ing. But what need he care about his 
 uncle's wishes and likings and dislikings ? 
 
 This point settled in his mind, he set 
 about composing neat little addresses of 
 congratulation to the young lady on this 
 lier 18th birthday ; and constructing a 
 proposal of marriage in the most deli- 
 cately-turned and most elegantly-rounded 
 periods — all of which he delivered, by 
 way of rehearsal, with great success and 
 to his entire satisfaction, to the nosegay 
 opposite. 
 
 Leaving Sir Richard Ellesdee thus oc- 
 cupied, we will precede him to the place 
 where the she of his thoughts and aspira- 
 tions dwelt. 
 
 It was a mean little house enough, in 
 a paltry enough suburban street — one of 
 those '' Rows" 
 
 *' Called ' Pleasant,' as containing nought to please,"
 
 288 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 as Byron sings in the most marvellous of 
 his marvellous productions.* 
 
 There was a small suburban garden in 
 front, and a scarcely less small suburban 
 garden behind. 
 
 The garden in front was tastefully laid 
 out in an ambitious centre flower-bed of 
 circular form, surrounded by a ditto belt 
 of bright yellow sand, cornered off into a 
 square by small flower-beds of suitable 
 shape — the only effective way in which the 
 squaring of the circle has ever yet been 
 accomplished. 
 
 An iron railing, fresh painted of a dark 
 green, separated the garden from the 
 street; a smaller railing ditto was inter- 
 posed between it and the kitchen area. 
 
 A mantle of slightly dingy dust- 
 
 * Let it be fairly understood that I speak here of 
 the " Eow " as it existed in 1826 ; for aught I know 
 it may be "pleasant " enough now. I deem it expe- 
 dient to append this note here, as I know the danger 
 of exciting Surrian susceptibilities, and should not like, 
 above all things, to rouse them anent any rows, plea- 
 sant or otherwise, in that most distinguished county.
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 289 
 
 covered ivy was flung gracefully over the 
 front of the mansion, from top to bottom, 
 which, coupled with the entire absence of 
 the least little bit of honeysuckle, was pro- 
 bably the cause why the place rejoiced in 
 the name of '^ Woodbine Cottage.'' 
 
 The windows, to the number of six, 
 peeping out from behind the ivy mantle, 
 as if they were trying hard to believe 
 themselves in the country, evidently looked 
 sad over the patent failure of the attempt. 
 The dimensions of the mansion would 
 have afforded space for eight windows in 
 front, but that the place of one window on 
 the ground floor was necessarily occupied 
 by the door giving entrance to the house, 
 and the place of another, in the area, by 
 the door leading to the kitchen. 
 
 One thing might be said in justice to 
 the place : there was no attempt at veneer- 
 ing about it, w^th the single exception of 
 the, perhaps, very pardonable little rural 
 dodge just alluded to — no mean pretence to 
 look bigger or tiner than it really was. It 
 
 VOL. I. 19
 
 290 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 told the beholder, however so slightly ini- 
 tiated into the mysteries of London con- 
 structions, as plainly as a house can speak : 
 ^^ there are eight compartments in me, with 
 some small cupboards in every possible 
 and impossible place. If my proprietor 
 chooses to call them ^ rooms,' I have no 
 objection ; but I can tell you that there is 
 barely room enough in any of them to 
 swing a cat." 
 
 However, as it must be presumed the 
 inmates were not persons likely to wish to 
 indulge in that curious gymnastic exercise, 
 this, though certainly a slight inconveni- 
 ence considered from a merely spatial 
 point of view, could not well be held a 
 fatal objection to the habitableness of the 
 place. 
 
 Woodbine Cottage was occupied at the 
 time by a small family, consisting of a Mrs 
 Fitzgerald, a widow, and her two children, 
 a son and a daughter, with a female ser- 
 vant. 
 
 The late Major Fitzgerald was a brave
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 291 
 
 officer, who had left his left arm before 
 New Orleans, in the ill-advised and ill- 
 fated expedition against that city, where 
 ^^Old Hickory" proved something more 
 than a match for poor Pakenham. This 
 grievous loss had not prevented him, how- 
 ever, from being present on the field of 
 Waterloo, in the final struggle between 
 the first Bonaparte and the ^ Roughest" of 
 his opponents, in which, to speak with 
 ^schylus, fate broke the beam of the 
 balance, and made England's scale sink. 
 In the heavy butcher's bill of that glorious 
 day, there figured among the innumerable 
 items. Captain Fitzgerald's right leg. As it 
 so happened that the poor Captain was verif 
 poor indeed, as will occasionally be the 
 case with people of the most ancient lin- 
 eage, and could not command powerful 
 protection, having, by his improvident 
 marriage with a poor, though equally 
 liighly-descended girl, offended his pa- 
 ternal grandfather, the only wealthy rela- 
 tive of his who had ever taken an interest
 
 292 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 in him, a grateful country munificently 
 awarded him the honorary rank of Major, 
 with a pension of about £100 per annum. 
 And, to speak the sober truth, great coun- 
 tries like England cannot afford to indulge 
 in extensive acts of gratitude, even to their 
 most deservino^ children. The number 
 of loaves and fishes at the country's dis- 
 posal will always keep its place among 
 the units, whilst that of the claimants, 
 ay and of justly entitled claimants, too, 
 will always figure among the thousands — 
 and the age of miracles is past. Five 
 times the amount of the national debt 
 would barely have sufficed to reward suffi- 
 ciently the countless acts of bravery and 
 patriotic devotion which adorn the records 
 of England's history in the period of her 
 latest gigantic struggle with France. 
 
 It must be fairly admitted, on the 
 other hand, that tliis philosoj^hic reflec- 
 tion, however so easy to make in the quiet 
 solitude of the study, cannot be expected 
 to come home quite so naturally to a ^^oor
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 293 
 
 cripple who lias to stump through life on 
 one leg, and fight the great battle one- 
 handed. 
 
 So we will not be hard upon the Major 
 for an occasional indulgence in an English- 
 man's proverbial privilege of grumbling. 
 Upon the whole, he bore himself pretty 
 patiently and cheerfully. 
 
 He retired with his wife and two chil- 
 dren, a son aged 10, and a daughter in 
 her seventh year, to the quiet seclusion of 
 ^' Woodbine Cottage." A thorough-bred 
 scientific soldier and an excellent mathema- 
 tician, he found no difficulty in obtaining 
 remunerative employment as a teacher of 
 mathematics and fortification, in several 
 schools, which enabled him to defray the 
 rather heavy expenses of the education of 
 his two children. 
 
 In 1823, his son having attained the 
 age of 18, he endeavoured to obtain a 
 commission for him in the army. As this 
 was in the ^^ trading " days of the — well, 
 let us say ^^ great and good " — Duke of
 
 294 • THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 York, and his famous mistress, and the 
 poor Major had no other '^ consideration" 
 to show or offer except his stumps, he 
 failed, of course. He then tried the East 
 India Company. He obtained an intro- 
 duction to Sir Richard Ellesdee, one of 
 the Directors. Sir Richard, being much 
 occupied with his parliamentary duties at 
 the time, instructed his son to make some 
 inquiry into the matter. The result was 
 that young Fitzgerald obtained his com- 
 mission in the 1st Bombay Lancers. 
 
 Mr Richard Ellesdee, who, with all his 
 stiffaess and pride, was a kind-hearted man, 
 took the good news in person to Wood- 
 bine Cottage. He was, of course, intro- 
 duced by the grateful Major to his family. 
 
 Mrs Fitzgerald being a highly accom- 
 plished lady, and Miss Edith, the daugh- 
 ter, an exquisite miniature woman of 
 15, Mr Ellesdee felt so pleased and 
 attracted, that he requested permission 
 to repeat his visit — which was granted,
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 295 
 
 though not without some slight shade of 
 reluctance. 
 
 A fortnight after young Fitzgerald was 
 on his way to India, and one brief 
 month after his departure the poor Major 
 was suddenly summoned to start on his 
 way to Heaven. 
 
 His widow and orphan daughter were 
 left disconsolate. 
 
 Mr Ellesdee showed so much true and 
 heartfelt sympathy on the sad occasion, 
 that the grateful widow was led to lower 
 the barrier of prejudice raised by her jea- 
 lous pride, and to admit the rich man's 
 friendship. She firmly and resolutely re- 
 fused, however, to accept the least sub- 
 stantial proof or token of that friendship for 
 herself or daughter. She even declined 
 the warmly -proffered introduction to Sir 
 Richard and Miss Ellesdee. 
 
 And to this determination she rigidly 
 adhered. She would accept no aid or 
 assistance of any kind, in whatsoever deli-
 
 296 THE OLD LEDGER, 
 
 cate disguise it might be offered. Hers 
 was the pride of independence — the most 
 stubborn and unyielding of all. 
 
 Mr Ellesdee was fain to rest content, 
 then, with enjoying the rare privilege of 
 dropping in at Woodbine Cottage on a 
 friendly visit whenever he listed. 
 
 Louis Ellesdee, then a lad of 17, hap- 
 pening to be at home in vacation from 
 Eton, at the time of the Major's death, his 
 brother ventured to bring him with him to 
 Woodbine Cottage during the first pa- 
 roxysm of the widow's grief. The boy's 
 warm sympathy, and his artless ingenu- 
 ousness, soon gained him the bereaved 
 woman's heart. He remained the only 
 other visitor ever admitted to the intimacy 
 of the ladies of the Cottage. 
 
 Mrs Fitzgerald, though only in her 
 40th year, and still a very handsome 
 woman, was quite white-haired. She had 
 suffered much in her comparatively short 
 life. Twice her husband, the darling trea- 
 sure of her heart, had been at death's door,
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 297 
 
 and had only escaped by parting each 
 time with an important part of himself, by 
 way of redeeming fine, and, at last, he had 
 suddenly been taken from her altogether. 
 Then there were other, if possible, still 
 bitterer sorrows gnawing her heart, and 
 sapping slowly but surely to the ver}^ 
 source and principle of her life. 
 
 Edward Fitzgerald, her and the late 
 Major's son, had, a few months since, sud- 
 denly and quite unexpectedly quitted the 
 Company's service, and returned from 
 India — as the climate was killing him, it 
 was said — to escape the merited ignominy 
 of a public exposure of certain nefarious 
 acts committed by him, it was whispered in 
 a limited better-informed circle, and that 
 for his dead father's sake alone the matter 
 had been hushed up, and allowed to drop, 
 with his retirement from the service. 
 
 Edward Eitzgerald, now in his 22nd 
 year, was a rare specimen of perfect beauty 
 in man ; but his was the beauty of Belial, 
 than whom
 
 298 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 " A fairer angel lost not Heaven^ 
 
 There are certain diseases, physical, 
 mental, and moral, that bear in them a 
 fatal germ oihereditariness^ if I may be per- 
 mitted to make use of this perfectly le^ti- 
 mate substantive, as most correctly con- 
 veying the meaning of the existing adjec- 
 tive. The leading types of these are 
 gout, madness, and badness. In some 
 cases they are transmitted from the father 
 or mother to the children, in unbroken suc- 
 cession, from generation to generation, 
 until the final extinction of the line ; in 
 others the disease has a tendency to jump 
 a generation, leaving the child free to 
 affect the grandchild instead. 
 
 Edward Fitzgerald afforded a curious 
 case in point. 
 
 Gerald Fitzgerald, his late grand- 
 father on the father's side, had been, in 
 his time, a rare example of perfectness in 
 evil — of moral leprosy. 
 
 That departed worthy was a younger 
 son of a ruined branch of the great Fitz-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 299 
 
 gerald family ; he had lost his mother in 
 his earliest infancy, and had been thrown 
 upon the world at the age of 20, by 
 the death of his father, with his ancient 
 name, his personal beauty, and his Lieu- 
 tenant's pay for all fortune ; an extremely 
 ^^ fractional " education, and no accom- 
 plishments beyond great expertness in ath- 
 letic exercises, marvellous skill in handling 
 the small-sword, and an unerring eye and a 
 steady hand in the use of the pistol — with 
 all the tastes of a Sardanapal, and thorough- 
 ly free from all trammels and restraints 
 of principle and morality. 
 
 Gerald Fitzgerald died before he 
 had attained his 38th year ; yet with- 
 in this brief span of life allotted him 
 on earth, he found time and opportu- 
 nities to commit a goodly number of 
 crimes and misdeeds of the blackest dye ; 
 but then they were all, more or less, of a 
 ^'genteel" cast. What though he had 
 killed eight people, and maimed 13 for 
 life ! — it was done in the honom^able way
 
 300 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 of the duello, which was, at the time, more 
 particularly in Ireland, quite a pastime 
 with the nobility and gentry, and looked 
 upon by all classes of society with a most 
 indulgent eye. There was only this little 
 objection occasionally urged, as tending to 
 detract from the merit of Gerald's slaying 
 and maiming performances in the Phoenix, 
 that the ^' fighting Captain" was violently 
 suspected to have placed his arm, more 
 than once, at the service of the Castle, 
 ^^for a consideration," to rid the party in 
 power of some dangerous or troublesome 
 opponent. 
 
 He had always known, also, how to 
 turn the beauty and graces of his person 
 to the most profitable account. In this 
 line of his achievements he had succeeded 
 in entrapping a high-born and wealthy 
 heiress, a Miss McDonnell, of Antrim, into 
 a runaway match with him. He had 
 spent her fortune, trampled upon her affec- 
 tion, killed her brother in a duel, and 
 finally broken her heart, leaving the care
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 301 
 
 of her infant son to lier father; after which 
 he went very nearly through the same 
 series of performances with a wealthy 
 widow : only that a cousin of the latter, 
 a Mr Desmond, who took up his unfor- 
 fortunate relative's cause, had the good 
 luck to send a bullet right through his 
 brain, in what Major Macnamara, Dan 
 O'Connell's second in the Emancipator's 
 duel with Desterre, afterwards used to 
 narrate, as one of the ^^natest" and most 
 charming little affairs that had ever come 
 off on the Fifteen Acres. 
 
 He left his son by his first wife totally 
 unprovided for, of course. In fact, he had 
 never taken the least care or trouble about 
 the child, who had been left with his pa- 
 ternal grandfather ever since the mother's 
 death. The boy was 15 when Mr Des- 
 mond's bullet rid society of the '^fighting 
 Captain." Except in personal appearance, 
 he was the very reverse of his father — 
 honourable, upright, tender-hearted. As 
 his grandfather, Mr McDonnell, was a very
 
 302 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 wealthy man, and seemingly doted upon 
 him, there was every prospect of a brilliant 
 career before the lad. Unfortunately, as 
 has already been alluded to, he committed 
 the grievous blunder to look upon marriage 
 as a fersonal affair, and having fallen head 
 over ears in love with a penniless girl, to 
 make her his wife without the consent, or 
 rather against the express prohibition, of 
 his grandfather, which induced the offended 
 old gentleman to cast him off for ever and 
 ever more. ' 
 
 This was our Major Fitzgerald, Ed- 
 ward's father. 
 
 Edward Fitzgerald was, to use a "^j^o- 
 pular simile, the very spit of his grand- 
 father Gerald. 
 
 His vicious propensities began to mani- 
 fest themselves at an early age. His fa- 
 ther tried to check them in time by the 
 display of a little parental sternness and 
 severity. The result simply was that the 
 boy, in addition to his other vices, began 
 to cultivate the exercise of the craftiest
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 303 
 
 hypocrisy, in which he speedily became 
 such an adept that his loving parents fond- 
 ly believed he was growing wiser and 
 better as he grew older, and that he would 
 soon have done sowing his wild oats, at 
 the very time when he was indulging in 
 the worst vices, and committing deeds of 
 the most accomplished rascality. 
 
 He had thus attained his 18tli year 
 when, despite his craft and cunning, he 
 was detected by his father in the act of 
 purloining his mother's jewelry. This 
 discovery, which of course led to that of 
 many other offences of a similar nature, 
 well nigh broke his parents' hearts. 
 
 He then played the part of the re- 
 pentant sinner ; and he played it with such 
 consummate skill, and looked such deep 
 desolation and despair, and cunningly 
 turned to account all the charms of his 
 Belial-beauty, and veiled his fine lustrous 
 eyes in such well-simulated sorrow, and 
 turned them away so judiciously to show 
 the starting tears — that neither mother nor
 
 304 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 father could resist the so welcome convic- 
 tion of the sincerity of his contrition and 
 repentance, and the dear hope that he 
 would offend no more. 
 
 It was then that his father, with a view 
 to remove him from the temptations of 
 London, had exerted himself to get him 
 into the Army — with what result we have 
 seen. 
 
 The Colonel of the 1st Bombay Lan- 
 cers, the regiment to which he was sent, 
 was an old friend of his father's. He re- 
 ceived the young cornet with great kind- 
 ness, and when the sad news of the Major's 
 death came, he vowed to be a second fa- 
 ther to his old friend's orphan boy. 
 
 For a time Master Edward's conduct 
 seemed all that could be wished. He suc- 
 ceeded so well in concealing his true cha- 
 racter, that he gained the good graces of 
 everybody around him. 
 
 He had been barely six months in the 
 regiment, when an opportunity offered to 
 achieve distinction in one of those innu-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 305 
 
 merable little campaigns somehow always 
 on hand in India. Brave as a tio:er — 
 and as bloodthirsty — Edward Fitzgerald 
 flashed and fleshed his maiden-sword 
 among the Honourable East India Com- 
 pany's victims to such good purpose, that he 
 got liis lieutenancy before the year was out. 
 
 The Colonel's letters and eulogistic 
 accounts of the beloved son and brother's 
 achievements, made the widow and her 
 daughter supremely happy. The two wo- 
 men worked double tides, and reduced 
 their expenses to the very lowest figure, 
 that they might send sufiicient money to 
 their darling to keep him from the tempta- 
 tion of running into debt. Poor creatures ! 
 how little they knew the youth ! 
 
 At the very time that his poor mother 
 and sister were thus slaving and starving 
 themselves to add to his comforts, and 
 whilst he bore himself in the eyes of the 
 Colonel and his fellow-officers as a credit 
 to the regiment, he was steeped to the 
 very lips in vice and debauchery. 
 
 VOL. I. 20
 
 306 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 Among other accomplishments neces- 
 sary or useful to a gentleman of his "Asocial 
 persuasion," he had cultivated, during the 
 latter period of his London career, the 
 science of gaming, and he had managed 
 to get initiated into the most recondite 
 mysteries of that corollary branch of it 
 which the French call '^ Vart de corriger la 
 fortune.''^ 
 
 So he made the green table and the 
 purses of some soft-headed rich civilians 
 supply him for a time with ample means 
 for the indulgence of his ^^ tastes." 
 
 The part which he was playing proved, 
 however, in the long run, a little too diffi- 
 cult for a young hand. Rumours reached 
 the Colonel of the disgraceful life which 
 his ^^ adopted son" was leading. He re- 
 monstrated with due severity. Mr Ed- 
 ward had recourse to lively demonstrations 
 of repentance and solemn promises of 
 amendment — and went on just as usual, 
 only with a little craftier concealment. 
 
 A short time after he had the misfor-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 307 
 
 tune of being detected in an '' imperfectly 
 performed" card-trick, in turning the king 
 at ecarte — at least, so asserted his adver- 
 sary in the game, a wealthy young mer- 
 chant. But he '^ disproved " the base 
 insinuation, and cleared his tarnished hon- 
 our by giving the accuser the lie and a 
 blow in the face, and sending a bullet 
 through his brain next morning. 
 
 The Colonel's renewed reproof led sim- 
 ply to a repetition of the same perform- 
 ance of repentance and solemn promises of 
 amendment as before, and, of course, with 
 the same result. 
 
 The fond mother and sister at home 
 were soon rudely awakened from their 
 happy dream. The ColonePs letters grew 
 more and more desponding. The poor 
 mother sat down and penned a most affect- 
 ing appeal to her ^' misguided" boy's 
 better feelings, to the recollections of his 
 innocent infancy, and ':o the revered 
 memory of his departed father. 
 
 This brought an equally aftbcting re-
 
 308 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 ply, full of the most sacred promises, and 
 artistically blotted and blurred in the most 
 moving parts with — a solution of salt in 
 water; and concluding with an m-gent 
 demand of £300 to save the wretched 
 writer from despair, and to enable him 
 to redeem his ^^ pledged honour," and to 
 turn over a new leaf. 
 
 The result was, of course, that the 
 jewelry, which had once before been ac- 
 cidentally saved from his despoiling clutch, 
 fell, after all, into it : it was sold, and the 
 proceeds, which came to a little more than 
 the sum demanded, were sent out to the 
 ^^ repentant prodigal," who received them 
 rejoicing — and set at once about spending 
 them more suo. 
 
 At last his career in India was brought 
 to a sudden close. A case of ^' cogging," 
 made out too clearly to be got rid of by a 
 challenge, compelled his '^ voluntary " re- 
 tirement from the service. 
 
 The Colonel's influence alone saved 
 him from a more disgraceful, undisguised
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 309 
 
 dismissalj and from the ignominy of pub- 
 licity. 
 
 He returned to England in April, 1826. 
 His much-tried mother received him — with 
 open arms and entire forgiveness. Ay, 
 she actually conquered her pride to the 
 extent of permitting Sir Eichard Ellesdee, 
 who eagerly offered his services, to find 
 some suitable employment for the young 
 man. 
 
 Sir Eichard speedily obtained for him 
 a clerkshi]3 in the office of the Comptroller 
 of the Exchequer, with a salary of £250 
 per annum, to begin with. 
 
 Mrs Fitzgerald had, of course, care- 
 fully concealed from Sir Eichard tlie true 
 cause of her son's return. Even her own 
 daughter knew nothing about it, and firm- 
 ly believed it was the dreadful climtite of 
 India which had driven poor Edward 
 home ; who evidently had recovered his 
 health, however, most marvellously on the 
 voyage back to England. 
 
 Mothers arc strangely and wonderfully
 
 310 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 constituted ; they would often seem to 
 love their children in proportion to the 
 trouble they give, and the pain and suffer- 
 ing they cause. And poor Mrs Fitzgerald 
 certainly was, like Balzac's Agathe Bri- 
 deau, '' une imbecile de mereP Strange 
 though it may sound, this reprobate scamp 
 of a son of hers was actually dearer to her 
 heart than the sweet girl who had never 
 caused one tear of sorrow to flow from her 
 eyes ! 
 
 Edith Fitzgerald remained at 18 what 
 I have described her at the age of 15 
 — ^^ an exquisite miniature woman." Her 
 tiny figure was of peerless symmetry, 
 with every limb and every contour admir- 
 ably moulded and rounded. She looked 
 a little fairy, without the least taint of 
 elfishness about her. The shape of her 
 head was of the highest intellectual cast— 
 her face a type of perfect beauty, with 
 delicate regular features, a smooth and 
 white gentle brow, and oval cheeks, in
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 311 
 
 which ^^ witching dimples dwelt," that 
 were ever ready to peep out from their 
 rose-and-lily mantle, at the call of the least 
 smile. Her nose was Phidian, with trans- 
 parent nostrils, that stood sentinel over a 
 small, sweet, graceful mouth, with rosy, 
 pouting lips, and two rows of ivory teeth, 
 without flaw or blemish in them. A 
 classic chin completed the contour of the 
 face ; two tiny shell-like ears, of roseate 
 hue and pearly transparency, that of the 
 head. Her lustrous though soft Madonna 
 eyes were of that marvellous tint which 
 leaves the beholder in doubt whether he is 
 gazing on the heavens or on the sea ; her 
 long silky lashes, and her full and even and 
 beautifully- arched brows were of a bright 
 hazel brown. Her luxuriant dark brown 
 hair fell in long glossy curls over her 
 gracefully-curved neck, and over statuesque 
 shoulders of resplendent whiteness that 
 " outshone the purest brightness of Parian 
 marble."
 
 312 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 There was about her that subtle, inde- 
 finable fragrance so happily called by 
 George Sand, '^ parfum de jeune fiMeP 
 
 This faultless casket held enshrined a 
 pure heart, a virgin mind, a seraph soul. 
 Edith Fitzgerald might truly be called a 
 glimpse and reflex of Heaven ! 
 
 There was one more ^^ member of the 
 family " of Woodbine Cottage, whom we 
 must not pass over without brief mention — 
 Mrs Bridget Sullivan, who had been the 
 late Major Fitzgerald's nurse, and had 
 also nursed his children. 
 
 Mrs Sullivan was a tall, slightly an- 
 gular, black-haired Irishwoman of the most 
 intensely Celtic type. She hailed from 
 Ballinasloe, in Connaught. She admitted 
 ^^ middle-age dness," and pleaded guilty to 
 45. If this was a true plea, she had 
 certainly afforded a most curious instance 
 of ^^ premature female development" in 
 Milesia, as she must have nursed her late 
 master at the tender age of two. Still, as 
 the good woman remained in full posses-
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 313 
 
 sion of a remarkably fine set of teeth, and 
 did not show a single grey hair yet, the 
 assertion might not look so very violent 
 to the uninitiated; moreover, few people 
 would have cared to doubt it openly, as Mrs 
 Bridget had very strong bony hands and 
 long nails, and was plaguy apt to ^^ write 
 her mark " with them whenever excited or 
 provoked. She was full of excellent quali- 
 ties^ thoroughly honest and truthful — 
 except in the matter of the very excusable 
 little feminine weakness respecting her age 
 — and passionately faithful to the house 
 of Fitzgerald. For the " Misthress " she 
 would have given her blood, for the 
 ^^childher" she would have lied and robbed. 
 Though she somehow entertained a 
 shrewd suspicion that it was not altogether 
 the climate of India which had compelled 
 the '-^ Captin" — for so she would persist in 
 calling the ex-lieutenant — to part with his 
 commission, it would have been dangerous 
 to hint, in her presence, at anything worse 
 than some youthful indiscretion, perhaps.
 
 314 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 which the " Captin's inimies" would make 
 no allowance for, ^Hhe bosthoons and mur- 
 therin' villians that they were ; and he wid 
 the wild blood of the Fitzgeralds in him, 
 poor lad!" But Mylord Anthrim was 
 sure to see him righted yet ; for was not 
 ^' blood thicker than wather," and would 
 not the head of the house of the 
 McDonnelPs see justice done to his young 
 kinsman ? 
 
 About the Earl of Antrim she had alto- 
 gether strange notions, in connection with 
 the widow and orphan children of her late 
 master. She held it to be that nobleman's 
 sacred duty to see them ^' put in their 
 proper places," as she expressed it ; and 
 she firmly believed he would, sooner or 
 later, bethink him of that duty, and that 
 some fine day or other his carriage would 
 drive up to the door of Woodbine Cottage ; 
 and she would live to see the Captin, bless 
 his handsome face ! a Gin'ral in the King's 
 service yet. 
 
 As to sweet Miss Diddy (her pet name
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 315 
 
 for Edith), why, she doated on her, so 
 much so, indeed, that she would bear from 
 her what she would have permitted no 
 other person, not even the "Misthress" or 
 the '^ Captin," to indulge in — an occa- 
 sional innocent joke about her age. Thus 
 the saucy young lady would gravely as- 
 sure her that she truly believed her to be 
 45, as she had heard her make the 
 same unvarying statement ever since she 
 could remember. On one occasion Mrs 
 Bridget gave her young mistress a glow- 
 ing account of the glories of Glenarm 
 Castle, the seat of the Earl of Antrim, 
 where she had once been on a visit with 
 the late Mr McDonnell, — ^^rest his sowl, 
 an' the Lord forgie him, the unforgivin' 
 owld sinner, savin' your prisince, and 
 biggin' your pardiug. Miss Diddy mavour- 
 neen," — as nurse to his infant grandson — 
 ^^ an' a swate child he was. Miss Diddy I 
 an' to think iv it, me only twinty thin, an' 
 now goin' on for an owld woman, ochone, 
 ochonc ! bein' forty-five — "
 
 316 THE OLD LEDGER. 
 
 ^' But how can that be, Biddy dear ? " 
 interrupted the young lady, with a merry 
 twinkle in her eyes, ^^ and my brother 
 Edward over 21 already ? " 
 
 ^^Arrah thin, acuishla, 'taint of the 
 Captin I'm spakin' at all at all ; 'tis of the 
 Meejor I'm spakin', mavourneen ; so what 
 has the CaptirHs eege to do wid it ?" was 
 the reply — which splendid piece of Irish 
 reasoning of course triumphantly and con- 
 clusively settled the point in favour of the 
 old nurse's assertion. 
 
 To complete this slight sketch of Mrs 
 Bridget Sullivan, it may be stated in ad- 
 dition that she was habitually addicted 
 to hard work, and, periodically, to hard 
 drinking. However, as she always went 
 to St Griles', among her kindred, on the 
 occasion of her periodical indulgences, and 
 invariably came back on the third or 
 fourth day after, sobered and saddened, 
 and without too many marks of faction 
 fights about her face, this little foible did
 
 THE OLD LEDGER. 317 
 
 not detract much from her general useful- 
 ness. 
 
 And generally useful indeed she was in 
 the household of Woodbine Cottage, com- 
 bining as she did in her own sole and 
 unaided person the multifarious functions 
 of housekeeper, gardener, cook, house- 
 maid, laundry maid, and lady's maid-in- 
 ordinary to Mrs Fitzgerald and to Miss 
 Edith. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 25, line 5 from tlie top ; 36, line 2 from the top, and in other 
 
 places, for Theresa read Theresia. 
 Page 34, line 10 from the top, for doors read dmr^ 
 Page 65, line 5 from the bottom, for '■^putting down his foot," 
 
 read ^^ putting his foot down" 
 Page 152, line 4 from the top, for Mensch ! TFie, read Menschy 
 
 icie 
 Page 217, line 2 from the top, for hindrances read hindrance 
 
 JOHN CHILDS AND SON, PKINTERS. 
 
 ik