Lavengro by George Borrow (read me a book txt) 📕

conversation. Many of them could converse much more glibly than their masters, and appeared to have much better taste. At any rate, they seldom approved of what their masters did. I remember being once with one in the gallery of the playhouse, when something of Shakespeare’s was being performed; someone in the first tier of boxes was applauding very loudly. ‘That’s my fool of a governor,’ said he; ‘he is weak enough to like Shakespeare⁠—I don’t⁠—he’s so confoundedly low, but he won’t last long⁠—going down. Shakespeare culminated’⁠—I think that was the word⁠—‘culminated some time ago.’

“And then the professor of elocution, of whom my governors used to take lessons, and of which lessons I had my share, by listening behind the door; but for that professor of elocution I should not be able to round my periods⁠—an expression of his⁠—in the manner I do.

“After I had been three years at this place my mistress died. Her death, however, made no great alteration in my way of living, the family spending their winters in London, and their summers at their old seat in S⁠⸺ as before. At last, the young ladies, who had not yet got husbands, which was strange enough, seeing, as I told you before, they were very amiable, proposed to our governor a travelling expedition abroad. The old baronet consented, though young master was much against it, saying, they would all be much better at home. As the girls persisted, however, he at last withdrew his opposition, and even promised to follow them, as soon as his parliamentary duties would permit, for he was just got into Parliament; and, like most other young members, thought that nothing could be done in the House without him. So the old gentleman and the two young ladies set off, taking me with them, and a couple of ladies’ maids to wait upon them. First of all, we went to Paris, where we continued three months, the old baronet and the ladies going to see the various sights of the city and the neighbourhood, and I attending them. They soon got tired of sightseeing, and of Paris too; and so did I. However, they still continued there, in order, I believe, that the young ladies might lay in a store of French finery. I should have passed my idle time at Paris, of which I had plenty after the sightseeing was over, very unpleasantly, but for Black Jack. Eh! did you never hear of Black Jack? Ah! if you had ever been an English servant in Paris, you would have known Black Jack; not an English gentleman’s servant who has been at Paris for this last ten years but knows Black Jack and his ordinary. A strange fellow he was⁠—of what country no one could exactly say⁠—for as for judging from speech, that was impossible, Jack speaking all languages equally ill. Some said he came direct from Satan’s kitchen, and that when he gives up keeping ordinary, he will return there again, though the generally received opinion at Paris was, that he was at one time butler to King Pharaoh, and that, after lying asleep for four thousand years in a place called the Kattycombs, he was awaked by the sound of Nelson’s canon, at the battle of the Nile; and going to the shore took on with the admiral, and became, in course of time, ship steward; and that after Nelson’s death, he was captured by the French, on board one of whose vessels he served in a somewhat similar capacity till the peace, when he came to Paris, and set up an ordinary for servants, sticking the name of Katcomb over the door, in allusion to the place where he had his long sleep. But, whatever his origin was, Jack kept his own counsel, and appeared to care nothing for what people said about him, or called him. Yes, I forgot, there was one name he would not be called, and that was Portuguese. I once saw Black Jack knock down a coachman, six foot high, who called him black-faced Portuguese. ‘Any name but dat, you shab,’ said Black Jack, who was a little round fellow, of about five feet two; ‘I would not stand to be called Portuguese by Nelson himself.’ Jack was rather fond of talking about Nelson, and hearing people talking about him, so that it is not improbable that he may have sailed with him; and with respect to his having been King Pharaoh’s butler, all I have to say is, I am not disposed to give the downright lie to the report. Jack was always ready to do a kind turn to a poor servant out of place, and has often been known to assist such as were in prison, which charitable disposition he perhaps acquired from having lost a good place himself, having seen the inside of a prison, and known the want of a meal’s victuals, all which trials King Pharaoh’s butler underwent, so he may have been that butler; at any rate, I have known positive conclusions come to, on no better premises, if indeed as good. As for the story of his coming direct from Satan’s kitchen, I place no confidence in it at all, as Black Jack had nothing of Satan about him, but blackness, on which account he was called Black Jack. Nor am I disposed to give credit to a report that his hatred of the Portuguese arose from some ill treatment which he had once experienced when on shore, at Lisbon, from certain gentlewomen of the place, but rather conclude that it arose from an opinion he entertained that the Portuguese never paid their debts, one of the ambassadors of that nation, whose house he had served, having left Paris several thousand francs in his debt. This is all that I have to say about Black Jack, without whose funny jokes, and good ordinary, I should have passed my time in Paris in a very disconsolate manner.

“After we