The International Monthly Magazine, Volume 5, No. 1, January, 1852Various
History
The International Monthly Magazine, Volume 5, No. 1, January, 1852
Various
Art, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- History -- Periodicals
The partners did not have recourse to the police. They did not propose a
consultation with either Mr. Forrester or Mr. Field; but they took
certain steps, under my recommendation; the result of which was that at
an early day, an aunt of the Honorable Miss Snape was driven, to save so
near a connection from transportation, to sell out some fourteen hundred
pounds of stock, and all the forgeries were taken up.
One would have thought that the lady who had thus so narrowly escaped,
had had enough; but forgery, like opium-eating, is one of those charming
vices which is never abandoned, when once adopted. The forger enjoys not
only the pleasure of obtaining money so easily, but the triumph of
befooling sharp men of the world. Dexterous penmanship is a source of
the same sort of pride as that which animates the skilful rifleman, the
practised duellist, or well-trained billiard-player. With a clean
Gillott he fetches down a capitalist, at three or six months, for a cool
hundred or a round thousand; just as a Scrope drops over a stag at ten,
or a Gordon Cumming a monstrous male elephant at a hundred paces.
As I before observed, my connection, especially lies among the
improvident--among those who will be ruined--who are being ruined--and
who have been ruined. To the last class belongs Francis Fisherton, once
a gentleman, now without a shilling or a principle; but rich in mother
wit--in fact a _farceur_, after Paul de Kock's own heart. Having in
bygone days been one of my willing victims, he occasionally finds
pleasure and profit in guiding others through the gate he frequented, as
long as able to pay the tolls. In truth, he is what is called a
"discount agent."
One day I received a note from him, to say that he would call on me at
three o'clock the next day, to introduce a lady of family, who wanted a
bill "done" for one hundred pounds. So ordinary a transaction merely
needed a memorandum in my diary, "Tuesday, 3 P.M.; F.F., 100_l._ Bill."
The hour came and passed; but no Frank, which was strange--because every
one must have observed, that, however dilatory people are in paying,
they are wonderfully punctual when they expect to receive money.
At five o'clock, in rushed my Jackall. His story, disentangled from
oaths and ejaculations, amounted to this:--In answer to one of the
advertisements he occasionally addresses "To the Embarrassed," in the
columns of the "Times," he received a note from a lady, who said she was
anxious to get a "bill done"--the acceptance of a well-known man of rank
and fashion. A correspondence was opened and an appointment made. At the
hour fixed, neatly shaved, brushed, gloved, booted,--the revival, in
short, of that high-bred Frank Fisherton, who was so famous
"In his hot youth, when Crockford's was the thing,"
glowing with only one glass of brandy "just to steady his nerves," he
met the lady at a West-end pastry-cook's.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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