



Produced by Gardner Buchanan





THE ATTACHE

or, SAM SLICK IN ENGLAND.

By Thomas Chandler Haliburton


(Greek Text)--GREEK PROVERB.

Tell you what, report my speeches if you like, but if you put my talk
in, I'll give you the mitten, as sure as you are born.--SLICKVILLE
TRANSLATION



London, July 3rd, 1843.

MY DEAR HOPKINSON,

I have spent so many agreeable hours at Edgeworth heretofore, that my
first visit on leaving London, will be to your hospitable mansion. In
the meantime, I beg leave to introduce to you my "Attache," who will
precede me several days. His politics are similar to your own; I wish I
could say as much in favour of his humour. His eccentricities will stand
in need of your indulgence; but if you can overlook these, I am not
without hopes that his originality, quaint sayings, and queer views of
things in England, will afford you some amusement. At all events, I feel
assured you will receive him kindly; if not for his own merits, at least
for the sake of

Yours always,

THE AUTHOR.

To EDMUND HOPKINSON ESQ. Edgeworth, Gloucestershire.



     CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

     CHAPTER I.    UNCORKING A BOTTLE
     CHAPTER II.   A JUICY DAY IN THE COUNTRY
     CHAPTER III.  TYING A NIGHT-CAP
     CHAPTER IV.   HOME AND THE SEA
     CHAPTER V.    T'OTHER EEND OF THE GUN
     CHAPTER VI.   SMALL POTATOES AND FEW IN A HILL
     CHAPTER VII.  A GENTLEMAN AT LARGE
     CHAPTER VIII. SEEING LIVERPOOL
     CHAPTER IX.   CHANGING A NAME
     CHAPTER X.    THE NELSON MONUMENT
     CHAPTER XI.   COTTAGES
     CHAPTER XII.  STEALING THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE
     CHAPTER XIII. NATUR'
     CHAPTER XIV.  THE SOCDOLAGER
     CHAPTER XV.   DINING OUT


     CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

     CHAPTER I.    THE NOSE OF A SPY
     CHAPTER II.   THE PATRON; OR, THE COW'S TAIL
     CHAPTER III.  ASCOT RACES
     CHAPTER IV.   THE GANDER PULLING
     CHAPTER V.    THE BLACK STOLE
     CHAPTER VI.   THE PRINCE DE JOINVILLE'S HORSE
     CHAPTER VII.  LIFE IN THE COUNTRY
     CHAPTER VIII. BUNKUM
     CHAPTER IX.   THROWING THE LAVENDER
     CHAPTER X.    AIMING HIGH
     CHAPTER XI.   A SWOI-REE
     CHAPTER XII.  TATTERSALL'S
     CHAPTER XIII. LOOKING BACK
     CHAPTER XIV.  CROSSING THE BORDER
     CHAPTER XV.   THE IRISH PREFACE




THE ATTACHE; OR SAM SLICK IN ENGLAND.




CHAPTER I. UNCORKING A BOTTLE.

We left New York in the afternoon of -- day of May, 184-, and embarked
on board of the good Packet ship "Tyler" for England. Our party
consisted of the Reverend Mr. Hopewell, Samuel Slick, Esq., myself, and
Jube Japan, a black servant of the Attache.

I love brevity--I am a man of few words, and, therefore,
constitutionally economical of them; but brevity is apt to degenerate
into obscurity. Writing a book, however, and book-making, are two very
different things: "spinning a yarn" is mechanical, and book-making
savours of trade, and is the employment of a manufacturer. The author
by profession, weaves his web by the piece, and as there is much
competition in this branch of trade, extends it over the greatest
possible surface, so as to make the most of his raw material. Hence
every work of fancy is made to reach to three volumes, otherwise it will
not pay, and a manufacture that does not requite the cost of production,
invariably and inevitably terminates in bankruptcy. A thought,
therefore, like a pound of cotton, must be well spun out to be valuable.
It is very contemptuous to say of a man, that he has but one idea, but
it is the highest meed of praise that can be bestowed on a book. A man,
who writes thus, can write for ever.

Now, it is not only not my intention to write for ever, or as Mr. Slick
would say "for everlastinly;" but to make my bow and retire very soon
from the press altogether. I might assign many reasons for this modest
course, all of them plausible, and some of them indeed quite dignified.
I like dignity: any man who has lived the greater part of his life in
a colony is so accustomed to it, that he becomes quite enamoured of it,
and wrapping himself up in it as a cloak, stalks abroad the "observed of
all observers." I could undervalue this species of writing if I
thought proper, affect a contempt for idiomatic humour, or hint at the
employment being inconsistent with the grave discharge of important
official duties, which are so distressingly onerous, as not to leave
me a moment for recreation; but these airs, though dignified, will
unfortunately not avail me. I shall put my dignity into my pocket,
therefore, and disclose the real cause of this diffidence.

In the year one thousand eight hundred and fourteen, I embarked at
Halifax on board the Buffalo store-ship for England. She was a noble
teak built ship of twelve or thirteen hundred tons burden, had excellent
accommodation, and carried over to merry old England, a very merry party
of passengers, _quorum parva pars fui_, a youngster just emerged from
college.

On the banks of Newfoundland we were becalmed, and the passengers amused
themselves by throwing overboard a bottle, and shooting at it with ball.
The guns used for this occasion, were the King's muskets, taken from the
arm-chest on the quarter-deck. The shooting was execrable. It was hard
to say which were worse marksmen, the officers of the ship, or the
passengers. Not a bottle was hit: many reasons were offered for this
failure, but the two principal ones were, that the muskets were bad, and
that it required great skill to overcome the difficulty occasioned by
both, the vessel and the bottle being in motion at the same time, and
that motion dissimilar.

I lost my patience. I had never practised shooting with ball; I had
frightened a few snipe, and wounded a few partridges, but that was
the extent of my experience. I knew, however, that I could not by any
possibility shoot worse than every body else had done, and might by
accident shoot better.

"Give me a gun, Captain," said I, "and I will shew you how to uncork
that bottle."

I took the musket, but its weight was beyond my strength of arm. I was
afraid that I could not hold it out steadily, even for a moment, it was
so very heavy--I threw it up with a desperate effort and fired. The neck
of the bottle flew up in the air a full yard, and then disappeared. I
was amazed myself at my success. Every body was surprised, but as every
body attributed it to long practice, they were not so much astonished as
I was, who knew it was wholly owing to chance. It was a lucky hit, and I
made the most of it; success made me arrogant, and boy-like, I became a
boaster.

"Ah," said I coolly, "you must be born with a rifle in your hand,
Captain, to shoot well. Every body shoots well in America. I do not call
myself a good shot. I have not had the requisite experience; but there
are those who can take out the eye of a squirrel at a hundred yards."

"Can you see the eye of a squirrel at that distance?" said the Captain,
with a knowing wink of his own little ferret eye.

That question, which raised a general laugh at my expense, was a
puzzler. The absurdity of the story, which I had heard a thousand times,
never struck me so forcibly. But I was not to be pat down so easily.

"See it!" said I, "why not? Try it and you will find your sight improve
with your shooting. Now, I can't boast of being a good marksman myself;
my studies" (and here I looked big, for I doubted if he could even read,
much less construe a chapter in the Greek Testament) "did not leave me
much time. A squirrel is too small an object for all but an experienced
man, but a "_large_" mark like a quart bottle can easily be hit at a
hundred yards--that is nothing."

"I will take you a bet," said he, "of a doubloon, you do not do it
again?"

"Thank you," I replied with great indifference: "I never bet, and
besides, that gun has so injured my shoulder, that I could not, if I
would."

By that accidental shot, I obtained a great name as a marksman, and by
prudence I retained it all the voyage. This is precisely my case now,
gentle reader. I made an accidental hit with the Clockmaker: when he
ceases to speak, I shall cease to write. The little reputation I then
acquired, I do not intend to jeopardize by trying too many experiments.
I know that it was chance--many people think it was skill. If they
choose to think so, they have a right to their opinion, and that opinion
is fame. I value this reputation too highly not to take care of it.

As I do not intend then to write often, I shall not wire-draw my
subjects, for the mere purpose of filling my pages. Still a book should
be perfect within itself, and intelligible without reference to other
books. Authors are vain people, and vanity as well as dignity is
indigenous to a colony. Like a pastry-cook's apprentice, I see so much
of both their sweet things around me daily, that I have no appetite for
either of them.

I might perhaps be pardoned, if I took it for granted, that the
dramatis personae of this work were sufficiently known, not to require
a particular introduction. Dickens assumed the fact that his book on
America would travel wherever the English language was spoken, and,
therefore, called it "Notes for General Circulation." Even Colonists
say, that this was too bad, and if they say so, it must be so. I shall,
therefore, briefly state, who and what the persons are that composed our
travelling party, as if they were wholly unknown to fame, and then leave
them to speak for themselves.

The Reverend Mr. Hopewell is a very aged clergyman of the Church of
England, and was educated at Cambridge College, in Massachusetts.
Previously to the revolution, he was appointed rector of a small parish
in Connecticut. When the colonies obtained their independence, he
remained with his little flock in his native land, and continued to
minister to their spiritual wants until within a few years, when his
parishioners becoming Unitarians, gave him his dismissal. Affable in
his manners and simple in his habits, with a mind well stored with human
lore, and a heart full of kindness for his fellow-creatures, he was at
once an agreeable and an instructive companion. Born and educated in the
United States, when they were British dependencies, and possessed of
a thorough knowledge of the causes which led to the rebellion, and the
means used to hasten the crisis, he was at home on all colonial
topics; while his great experience of both monarchical and democratical
governments, derived from a long residence in both, made him a most
valuable authority on politics generally.

Mr. Samuel Slick is a native of the same parish, and received his
education from Mr. Hopewell. I first became acquainted with him while
travelling in Nova Scotia. He was then a manufacturer and vendor of
wooden clocks. My first impression of him was by no means favourable. He
forced himself most unceremoniously into my company and conversation. I
was disposed to shake him off, but could not. Talk he would, and as his
talk was of that kind, which did not require much reply on my part, he
took my silence for acquiescence, and talked on. I soon found that he
was a character; and, as he knew every part of the lower colonies, and
every body in them, I employed him as my guide.

I have made at different times three several tours with him, the results
of which I have given in three several series of a work, entitled the
"Clockmaker, or the Sayings and Doings of Mr. Samuel Slick." Our last
tour terminated at New York, where, in consequence of the celebrity he
obtained from these "Sayings and Doings" he received the appointment of
Attache to the American Legation at the Court of St. James's. The
object of this work is to continue the record of his observations and
proceedings in England.

The third person of the party, gentle reader, is your humble servant,
Thomas Poker, Esquire, a native of Nova Scotia, and a retired member of
the Provincial bar. My name will seldom appear in these pages, as I am
uniformly addressed by both my companions as "Squire," nor shall I have
to perform the disagreeable task of "reporting my own speeches," for
naturally taciturn, I delight in listening rather than talking, and
modestly prefer the duties of an amanuensis, to the responsibilities of
original composition.

The last personage is Jube Japan, a black servant of the Attache.

Such are the persons who composed the little party that embarked at New
York, on board the Packet ship "Tyler," and sailed on the -- of May,
184-, for England.

The motto prefixed to this work

   (Greek Text)

sufficiently explains its character. Classes and not individuals have
been selected for observation. National traits are fair subjects for
satire or for praise, but personal peculiarities claim the privilege of
exemption in right of that hospitality, through whose medium they have
been alone exhibited. Public topics are public property; every body has
a right to use them without leave and without apology. It is only when
we quit the limits of this "common" and enter upon "private grounds,"
that we are guilty of "a trespass." This distinction is alike obvious to
good sense and right feeling. I have endeavoured to keep it constantly
in view; and if at any time I shall be supposed to have erred (I say
"supposed," for I am unconscious of having done so) I must claim the
indulgence always granted to involuntary offences.

Now the patience of my reader may fairly be considered a "private
right." I shall, therefore, respect its boundaries and proceed at
once with my narrative, having been already quite long enough about
"uncorking a bottle."




CHAPTER II. A JUICY DAY IN THE COUNTRY.

All our preparations for the voyage having been completed, we spent
the last day at our disposal, in visiting Brooklyn. The weather was
uncommonly fine, the sky being perfectly clear and unclouded; and though
the sun shone out brilliantly, the heat was tempered by a cool, bracing,
westwardly wind. Its influence was perceptible on the spirits of every
body on board the ferry-boat that transported us across the harbour.

"Squire," said Mr. Slick, aint this as pretty a day as you'll see atween
this and Nova Scotia?--You can't beat American weather, when it chooses,
in no part of the world I've ever been in yet. This day is a tip-topper,
and it's the last we'll see of the kind till we get back agin, _I_ know.
Take a fool's advice, for once, and stick to it, as long as there is any
of it left, for you'll see the difference when you get to England. There
never was so rainy a place in the univarse, as that, I don't think,
unless it's Ireland, and the only difference atween them two is that it
rains every day amost in England, and in Ireland it rains every day and
every night too. It's awful, and you must keep out of a country-house in
such weather, or you'll go for it; it will kill you, that's sartain. I
shall never forget a juicy day I once spent in one of them dismal old
places. I'll tell you how I came to be there.

"The last time I was to England, I was a dinin' with our consul
to Liverpool, and a very gentleman-like old man he was too; he was
appointed by Washington, and had been there ever since our glorious
revolution. Folks gave him a great name, they said he was a credit to
us. Well, I met at his table one day an old country squire, that lived
somewhere down in Shropshire, close on to Wales, and says he to me,
arter cloth was off and cigars on, 'Mr. Slick,' says he, 'I'll be very
glad to see you to Norman Manor,' (that was the place where he staid,
when he was to home). 'If you will return with me I shall be glad
to shew you the country in my neighbourhood, which is said to be
considerable pretty.'

"'Well,' says I, 'as I have nothin' above particular to see to, I don't
care if I do go.'

"So off we started; and this I will say, he was as kind as he cleverly
knew how to be, and that is sayin' a great deal for a man that didn't
know nothin' out of sight of his own clearin' hardly.

"Now, when we got there, the house was chock full of company, and
considerin' it warn't an overly large one, and that Britishers won't
stay in a house, unless every feller gets a separate bed, it's a wonder
to me, how he stowed away as many as he did. Says he, 'Excuse your
quarters, Mr. Slick, but I find more company nor I expected here. In
a day or two, some on 'em will be off, and then you shall be better
provided.'

"With that I was showed up a great staircase, and out o' that by a
door-way into a narrer entry and from that into an old T like looking
building, that stuck out behind the house. It warn't the common company
sleepin' room, I expect, but kinder make shifts, tho' they was good
enough too for the matter o' that; at all events I don't want no better.

"Well, I had hardly got well housed a'most, afore it came on to rain, as
if it was in rael right down airnest. It warn't just a roarin', racin',
sneezin' rain like a thunder shower, but it kept a steady travellin'
gait, up hill and down dale, and no breathin' time nor batin' spell.
It didn't look as if it would stop till it was done, that's a fact. But
still as it was too late to go out agin that arternoon, I didn't think
much about it then. I hadn't no notion what was in store for me next
day, no more nor a child; if I had, I'd a double deal sooner hanged
myself, than gone brousing in such place as that, in sticky weather.

"A wet day is considerable tiresome, any where or any way you can fix
it; but it's wus at an English country house than any where else, cause
you are among strangers, formal, cold, gallus polite, and as thick in
the head-piece as a puncheon. You hante nothin' to do yourself and they
never have nothin' to do; they don't know nothin' about America, and
don't want to. Your talk don't interest them, and they can't talk to
interest nobody but themselves; all you've got to do, is to pull out
your watch and see how time goes; how much of the day is left, and then
go to the winder and see how the sky looks, and whether there is any
chance of holdin' up or no. Well, that time I went to bed a little
airlier than common, for I felt considerable sleepy, and considerable
strange too; so as soon as I cleverly could, I off and turned in.

"Well I am an airly riser myself. I always was from a boy, so I waked up
jist about the time when day ought to break, and was a thinkin' to get
up; but the shutters was too, and it was as dark as ink in the room, and
I heer'd it rainin' away for dear life. 'So,' sais I to myself, 'what
the dogs is the use of gittin' up so airly? I can't get out and get a
smoke, and I can't do nothin' here; so here goes for a second nap.' Well
I was soon off agin in a most a beautiful of a snore, when all at once
I heard thump-thump agin the shutter--and the most horrid noise I ever
heerd since I was raised; it was sunthin' quite onairthly.

"'Hallo!' says I to myself, 'what in natur is all this hubbub about?
Can this here confounded old house be harnted? Is them spirits that's
jabbering gibberish there, or is I wide awake or no?' So I sets right
up on my hind legs in bed, rubs my eyes, opens my ears and listens
agin, when whop went every shutter agin, with a dead heavy sound, like
somethin' or another thrown agin 'em, or fallin' agin 'em, and then
comes the unknown tongues in discord chorus like. Sais I, 'I know now,
it's them cussed navigators. They've besot the house, and are a givin'
lip to frighten folks. It's regular banditti.'

"So I jist hops out of bed, and feels for my trunk, and outs with
my talkin' irons, that was all ready loaded, pokes my way to the
winder--shoves the sash up and outs with the shutter, ready to let slip
among 'em. And what do you think it was?--Hundreds and hundreds of them
nasty, dirty, filthy, ugly, black devils of rooks, located in the trees
at the back eend of the house. Old Nick couldn't have slept near 'em;
caw caw, caw, all mixt up together in one jumble of a sound, like
"jawe."

"You black, evil-lookin', foul-mouthed villains,' sais I, 'I'd like
no better sport than jist to sit here, all this blessed day with these
pistols, and drop you one arter another, _I_ know.' But they was pets,
was them rooks, and of course like all pets, everlastin' nuisances to
every body else.

"Well, when a man's in a feeze, there's no more sleep that hitch; so I
dresses and sits up; but what was I to do? It was jist half past four,
and as it was a rainin' like every thing, I know'd breakfast wouldn't be
ready till eleven o'clock, for nobody wouldn't get up if they could help
it--they wouldn't be such fools; so there was jail for six hours and a
half.

"Well, I walked up and down the room, as easy as I could, not to waken
folks; but three steps and a round turn makes you kinder dizzy, so I
sits down again to chaw the cud of vexation.

"'Ain't this a handsum fix?' sais I, 'but it sarves you right, what
busniss had you here at all? you always was a fool, and always will be
to the eend of the chapter.--'What in natur are you a scoldin' for?'
sais I: 'that won't mend the matter; how's time? They must soon be a
stirrin' now, I guess.' Well, as I am a livin' sinner, it was only five
o'clock; 'oh dear,' sais I, 'time is like women and pigs the more you
want it to go, the more it won't. What on airth shall I do?--guess, I'll
strap my rasor.'

"Well, I strapped and strapped away, until it would cut a single hair
pulled strait up on eend out o' your head, without bendin' it--take it
off slick. 'Now,' sais I, 'I'll mend my trowsers I tore, a goin' to
see the ruin on the road yesterday; so I takes out Sister Sall's little
needle-case, and sows away till I got them to look considerable jam
agin; 'and then,' sais I, 'here's a gallus button off, I'll jist fix
that,' and when that was done, there was a hole to my yarn sock, so I
turned too and darned that.

"'Now,' sais I, 'how goes it? I'm considerable sharp set. It must be
gettin' tolerable late now.' It wanted a quarter to six. 'My! sakes,'
sais I, 'five hours and a quarter yet afore feedin' time; well if that
don't pass. What shall I do next?' 'I'll tell you what to do,' sais I,
'smoke, that will take the edge of your appetite off, and if they don't
like it, they may lump it; what business have they to keep them horrid
screetchin' infarnal, sleepless rooks to disturb people that way?' Well,
I takes a lucifer, and lights a cigar, and I puts my head up the chimbly
to let the smoke off, and it felt good, I promise _you_. I don't know as
I ever enjoyed one half so much afore. It had a rael first chop flavour
had that cigar.

"'When that was done,' sais I, 'What do you say to another?' 'Well, I
don't know,' sais I, 'I should like it, that's a fact; but holdin' of
my head crooked up chimbly that way, has a' most broke my neck; I've got
the cramp in it like.'

"So I sot, and shook my head first a one side and then the other, and
then turned it on its hinges as far as it would go, till it felt about
right, and then I lights another, and puts my head in the flue again.

"Well, smokin' makes, a feller feel kinder good-natured, and I began to
think it warn't quite so bad arter all, when whop went my cigar right
out of my mouth into my bosom, atween the shirt and the skin, and burnt
me like a gally nipper. Both my eyes was fill'd at the same time, and
I got a crack on the pate from some critter or another that clawed and
scratched my head like any thing, and then seemed to empty a bushel of
sut on me, and I looked like a chimbly sweep, and felt like old Scratch
himself. My smoke had brought down a chimbly swaller, or a martin, or
some such varmint, for it up and off agin' afore I could catch it, to
wring its infarnal neck off, that's a fact.

"Well, here was somethin' to do, and no mistake: here was to clean and
groom up agin' till all was in its right shape; and a pretty job it was,
I tell you. I thought I never should get the sut out of my hair, and
then never get it out of my brush again, and my eyes smarted so, they
did nothing but water, and wink, and make faces. But I did; I worked on
and worked on, till all was sot right once more.

"'Now,' sais I, 'how's time?' 'half past seven,' sais I, 'and three
hours and a half more yet to breakfast. Well,' sais I, 'I can't stand
this--and what's more I won't: I begin to get my Ebenezer up, and feel
wolfish. I'll ring up the handsum chamber-maid, and just fall to, and
chaw her right up--I'm savagerous.'* 'That's cowardly,' sais I, 'call
the footman, pick a quarrel with him and kick him down stairs, speak but
one word to him, and let that be strong enough to skin the <DW53> arter it
has killed him, the noise will wake up folks _I_ know, and then we shall
have sunthin' to eat.'

[* Footnote: The word "savagerous" is not of "Yankee" but of "Western
origin."--Its use in this place is best explained by the following
extract from the Third Series of the Clockmaker. "In order that the
sketch which I am now about to give may be fully understood, it may
be necessary to request the reader to recollect that Mr. Slick is a
_Yankee_, a designation the origin of which is now not very obvious,
but it has been assumed by, and conceded by common consent to, the
inhabitants of New England. It is a name, though sometimes satirically
used, of which they have great reason to be proud, as it is descriptive
of a most cultivated, intelligent, enterprising, frugal, and industrious
population, who may well challenge a comparison with the inhabitants of
any other country in the world; but it has only a local application.

"The United States cover an immense extent of territory, and the
inhabitants of different parts of the Union differ as widely in
character, feelings, and even in appearance, as the people of different
countries usually do. These sections differ also in dialect and in
humour, as much as in other things, and to as great, if not a greater
extent, than the natives of different parts of Great Britain vary from
each other. It is customary in Europe to call all Americans, Yankees;
but it is as much a misnomer as it would be to call all Europeans
Frenchmen. Throughout these works it will be observed, that Mr. Slick's
pronunciation is that of the Yankee, or an inhabitant of the _rural
districts_ of New England. His conversation is generally purely so; but
in some instances he uses, as his countrymen frequently do from choice,
phrases which, though Americanisms, are not of Eastern origin. Wholly
to exclude these would be to violate the usages of American life; to
introduce them oftener would be to confound two dissimilar dialects,
and to make an equal departure from the truth. Every section has its own
characteristic dialect, a very small portion of which it has imparted
to its neighbours. The dry, quaint humour of New England is occasionally
found in the west, and the rich gasconade and exaggerative language of
the west migrates not unfrequently to the east. This idiomatic
exchange is perceptibly on the increase. It arises from the travelling
propensities of the Americans, and the constant intercourse mutually
maintained by the inhabitants of the different States. A droll or
an original expression is thus imported and adopted, and, though not
indigenous, soon becomes engrafted on the general stock of the language
of the country."--3rd Series, p. 142.]

"I was ready to bile right over, when as luck would have it, the rain
stopt all of a sudden, the sun broke out o' prison, and I thought I
never seed any thing look so green and so beautiful as the country
did. 'Come,' sais I, 'now for a walk down the avenue, and a comfortable
smoke, and if the man at the gate is up and stirrin', I will just pop in
and breakfast with him and his wife. There is some natur there, but here
it's all cussed rooks and chimbly swallers, and heavy men and fat
women, and lazy helps, and Sunday every day in the week.' So I fills my
cigar-case and outs into the passage.

"But here was a fix! One of the doors opened into the great staircase,
and which was it? 'Ay,' sais I, 'which is it, do you know?' 'Upon my
soul, I don't know,' sais I; 'but try, it's