CHAPTER III. THE BOTTOM CLUB.
Punctual to his appointment with Hobbleshank, Puffer
Hopkins, at a few minutes of seven o'clock the next evening,
directed his steps towards Barrell's oyster-house, where in
due time he arrived, and made discovery of one of the most
singular little oyster-houses that could be found throughout
the whole of oyster-eating Christendom. Mr. Jarve Barrell,
it would seem, had, in the golden age of his career, been the
proprietor of a large Public House, occupying an entire
building and surrounded by his regiments of waiters and
wine-bottles, whose services were clamorously and steadily
demanded, by a mob of customers, from six in the evening
until one, morning; in fact the poor man's head had been
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half-turned, by the pressure of a prosperous and growing
business. But, somehow or other, oysters, one unlucky season,
grew smaller, waiters more impudent for their pay, and
custom walked out of that street into the next on a visit to
a new landlord, who served his stews with silver spoons and
his oysters in scollop-shells; so that poor Jarve Barrell was
compelled, in spite of himself, to clip his wings and confine
himself to a humbler cage: in a word, he rented his second
floor to a boarding-house keeper, took in a barber at the
rear of the first floor, and continued business on his own
account in the front room of the same. A second decrease
in the size of shell-fish, the opening of a street that carried
travel in another direction, and Barrell was forced into that
last stronghold of the oyster-man, the cellar; and there it
was that Puffer Hopkins now found him, standing on one
leg of his own and one that came out of a fine piece of oak
woods at West Farms, a coarse white apron about his waist
and a salamander in his countenance, declaring stoutly to a
customer that although he had roughed it against the tide
all his life, he was determined to have his own way in dying.
Being questioned as to the way to which he alluded, he
proceeded to explain, that whenever he felt the approaches
of death he should hire a White-haller to pull him over to
Staten Island, cast anchor just above the richest bed in the
shore, and giving one good deep plunge, said Jarve Barrell,
I'll carry myself to the bottom, and stretching myself out on
a picked oyster-bed, make up my mind to die; so with the
tide rippling over my head, and a dozen or more pretty mermaids
standing about me, I'll give up the ghost, and hold myself
entitled to haunt the Bay and Island ever after, with a
spruce ruffle of sea-weeds in my bosom.
Puffer Hopkins was well pleased with the joyous spirit of
the decayed oyster-man, but had scarcely heard him through
when he detected a quick clatter upon the steps, and turning,
he discovered his singular companion of the previous
night hurrying down. In a moment he had Puffer by the
hand, and hailed his appearance with a sort of wondering
enthusiasm as if it gave him great joy to find him there and
to take him again in a friendly grasp. Hobbleshank interchanged
a few words with Mr. Jarve Barrell as to the influence
of certain recent enactments relating to oyster-beds
upon his own trade and custom, to which Mr. Jarve Barrell
gave very lucid and convincing replies, and they set out
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forthwith for the Bottom Club. This they were not long in
finding, for Hobbleshank guiding Puffer rapidly through
sundry dark alleys and bye-ways, for which he seemed to
have a peculiar inclination, they reached a building in front
of which a dusky lamp was glimmering, ascended two flights
of stairs, and knocked at a low dingy door.
The door was opened from within, and Puffer advancing,
with Hobbleshank in front, found himself in a long narrow
room, with a plain pine table stretched through the centre,
a forlorn-looking eagle, with a bunch of arrowy skewers in
its talons and a striped flag about its head for a turban, two
or three carpenters' benches along the walls, and the whole
lighted by four sombre tallow twopennies at the farthest extremity.
Upon the table was planted a large earthen pitcher, with
an emblematic toper with his leg cocked up, in a state of
happy exaltation, displayed on the side thereof in white
ware—and around the board were established a dozen individuals
or more, constituting the chief force of the immortal
Bottom Club.
The gentlemen of the Bottom Club, as they presented
themselves at that moment to Puffer Hopkins, certainly furnished
a remarkable spectacle; the most remarkable feature
of which was, that all the large members of the Club, by
some inscrutable fatality, were constrained and restricted
in small hats and irksome jackets, while all the small members,
by some equally potent dispensation, were allowed to
revel in an unlimited wilderness of box-coat, petersham and
tarpaulin. The delicate gentlemen wore great rough neck-stocks,
and commanded huge iron snuff-boxes on the table:
and the robust and muscular members assumed dainty black
ribbons and elegant turn-down collars, with more or less
ruffle crisping up under their broad heavy-bearded chins.
A thin, thoughtful gentleman, at one corner of the table,
was enveloped in an overgrown vest, hideous with great red
vines creeping all over it, and large enough to serve the purpose
of a body coat: and confronting him, at an opposite
corner, sate a stout omnibus-driver, making himself as comfortable
as he could in a waistcoat, so many sizes too small,
that it gaped apart like a pair of rebellious book-covers, and
drew his arms into a posture that resembled not a little that
of the wings of a great Muscovy gander prepared for the
spit.
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“We welcome you,” said the pale thoughtful man, rising
and extending his right hand toward Puffer as he advanced,
while with his left he secured the sails of his great red vest,
“We welcome you, Mr. Hopkins, to this association of brethren.
In us you see exemplified the progress of Social Reform:
we are wearing each others' coats and breeches in a
simultaneous confusion, and, laboring under a passional excitement,
we may yet ameliorate our condition so far as to
undertake to pay each others' debts. We are subjecting
ourselves to a great experiment for the benefit of mankind,
the interests of the total race. You see what hardships we
are undergoing”—he did, for at the mere mention of the
thing, the whole Club wriggled in their ill-assorted garments
like so many clowns in the very crisis of a contortion—“to
test the principles of an ameliorated condition of things.
Yet, sir, we are happy, very happy to see you here to-night:
this spot on which you stand is consecrated to freedom of
opinion; to the festival of the soul. This is no Musical Forest,
no Hindoo Hunters' Hut, got up for effect at the amphi-theatre:
we haven't trees here alive with real birds! the
branches laden with living monkies! the fountains visited by
long-legged Flamingoes! the greensward covered with Gazelles,
grazing and sporting! Oh, no: we are a mere caucus
of plain citizens, in our every-day dresses, sitting in this
small room on rough benches to re-organize society, and give
the world a new axle: that's all.”
Hereupon the thoughtful gentleman sate down; the Club
looked at each other and shook their heads, as much as to
say, “This Chairman of ours, is, certainly, a born genius”;
and Puffer and Hobbleshank were earnestly invited to the
upper end of the board, where they could possess the immediate
society of the intellectual president, with the convenient
solace of the beer-pitcher. As soon as they were
seated, and furnished with a draught from the earthen jug
to make them feel at home, (a man always feeling most at
home when his wits are abroad), the legitimate business of
the Club proceeded with great spirit.
The first subject that was brought before them was, a general
consultation as to the part the Club—the friends of Social
Reform and a Re-organization of Society—should play
in the approaching election of a Mayor for the City and
County of New-York: something striking and decisive being
always expected from the redoubted Bottom Club. One
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member hinted and proposed that there should be a general
destruction of the enemy's handbills; which was amended
so as to embrace a thrashing of the enemy's bill-stickers,
wherever found; which was still further enlarged, so as to
cover the special case of freighting a hostile bill-sticker's
cart with building-stone and breaking a bill-sticker's donkey's
back. The cutting of flag-ropes and sawing down of liberty-poles
next came up, and passed promptly—a stout man in a
small roundabout asseverating vehemently that the price of
fire-wood should be brought down, if he staid up till midnight
three nights in the week to accomplish the benevolent
object. The Club then proceeded to preamble and resolve
that they considered the liberty of the citizens of this metropolis
in imminent danger, and that they would protect the
same at the hazard of their lives: by which the Bottom Club
meant, that they would hold themselves prepared to breed
a riot at five minutes' notice, if found necessary to prevent a
surplus of voters on the opposite side from enjoying the invaluable
franchise of depositing their ballots. Two sturdy
members belonging to the intellectual and highly refined fraternity
of omnibus-drivers, next pledged themselves in the
most earnest manner, to conduct their respective vehicles, at
such time as might be most apposite, through the centre of
any well-dressed crowd that might be in the neighborhood
of the Poll, and also to indulge in such incidental flourishes
of the whip on their way, as would inevitably persuade the
gentry to stand back. As beer and brandy flowed through
the Club—which they did with a marvellous depth and celerity
of current—the tide of heady resolution deepened; and
they at length, in their extreme heat and fervor, determined
to throw off their coats to a man, and enjoy a regular breakdown
dance about the table.
With wonderful alacrity they carried this judicious resolution
into effect, by disrobing themselves of coats, shad-bellies
and jackets, and casting them into a heap on a sailor's
chest established under the eagle's wing. They then, hand
in hand, Hobbleshank and Puffer Hopkins joining in, commenced
capering in a circle, dashing down, first the right heel
and then the left, with astonishing energy, and as if they
were driving in the nails of the floor all over again; meantime
roaring out the tag-ends of a partizan song, which intimated
that, They were the boys so genteel and civil, That
cared not a straw for Nick nor the Devil: with other choice
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sentiments metrically stated. While they were immersed
in this elegant recreation, a single gentleman—a member
of the Club—who did not choose to partake thereof, sate
apart indulging in his own profound cogitations. He was
in many respects a peculiar personage, and seemed to enjoy
a copy-right way of his own; which copy-right might have
borne date as early as his birth and entrance into the world,—
for Nature had given him a pale, chalky countenance, a
sort of blank betwixt youth and age, a pair of knavish grey
eyes, always turned upward, and a nose of the same class,
which appeared most honestly to sympathize with them: he
was of a small, shrunken figure, with a slight indication of
a hump at the shoulders, long, thin fingers, and legs of a
somewhat mis-shapen and imperfect character.
This singular little gentleman, as we said, sate apart indulging
in his own thoughts; the purport of which appeared
presently to be, a determination to investigate and scrutinize
the pockets of the various coats, jackets and shad-bellies,
which had been laid aside by the dancers, for to this task
he now assiduously applied himself, and while his companions
were enjoying themselves in their way, he enjoyed himself
in his own way, by divesting them of such of their contents
as suited his purposes, whatever they might be. In
this general scrutiny it would have been an impeachment of
his talents as an inquisitor to have charged him with neglecting
the remotest corner or out-of-the-way borough of the
apparel either of Hobbleshank or Puffer Hopkins.
Having accomplished this undertaking to his own satisfaction,
he established himself at a side of the long table, planted
a fur cap of great antiquity, after a drunken fashion, over
his brows, dropped his head upon his folded arms, and devoted
himself with great apparent zeal and sincerity, to the
business of sleeping.
Meantime the gentlemen of the Bottom Club had wearied
of their sport, and oppressed by beer and hard work, they
dropped into their seats.
The pitcher went round, once, twice and thrice, and by
this time they had attained an elevation of conduct and expression
that was truly sublime to behold. The heavy-bearded
man swore and laughed, and dashed his fist upon
the table, with the uproar of half a dozen bakers at kneading
time. The two omnibus-drivers, for some unknown, and at
this remote period from the event, unconjecturable cause,
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entered solemnly into a set-to, in which much muscle and
science were displayed, and which ended in a most fraternal
embrace under the table.
A cadaverous thoughtful man—not the chairman—who
was no talker but a wonderful deep thinker and metaphysician,
grew mysterious and communicative, and hinted that
he had that in the pocket of his swallow-tail which would
raise a devil of a ferment if the public but knew of it.
A fifth associate of the Club, who still retained an insufficient
hat planted jauntily on his head, thought it would be a
capital idea—a very capital idea—a devilish first-rate idea
in the way of a social re-organization—to get together a
parcel of gilt steeple-balls, and hatch out a brood of young
churches by clapping a bishop upon them.
Another gentleman was inclined to think that the Bottom
Club had better mind its own business, by petitioning the
Common Council to have jugglers appointed Inspectors of
election, who could pass into the ballot-box two tickets for
one on their own side, and no tickets for ever so many on the
other.
A wide-mouthed member, the author of the ditty that had
been sung, and clerk and bell-ringer to a neighboring market,
became horribly sentimental, shed tears in his beer, and
kissed his hand to the eagle at the other end of the room.
As the entertainments were manifestly drawing to an end,
Hobbleshank glanced warily towards Puffer Hopkins, and
made for the door: but they were not let off so easily,—for
simultaneous with the rising of Puffer Hopkins was that
of the entire Bottom Club; and a general friendly assault
was begun upon the person of that worthy young gentleman.
First, the gentlemen of the Club insisted on shaking hands
all round toward the right, and then all round toward the
left; one or two were resolved to embrace him, and did so;
and at last, after the pantomime, there was an unanimous
call for a speech from that gentleman, which summons was,
however, without a discovery of the substitution on the part
of the astute members of the Bottom Club, responded to by
Hobbleshank after his own peculiar fashion, with a very
happy allusion to the striped flag and the refreshments.
The unshorn man hoped Puffer Hopkins would come
again, and vowed he was his friend to command, from
the state of Maine to Cape May; and the metaphysical
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deep thinker, struggling manfully with the beer he had
imbibed, promised next time to communicate something of
vital consequence to the welfare of this Union: with which
promises, protestations and God-speeds, Hobbleshank and
Hopkins departed.
Mathews, Cornelius, 1817-1889 [1842], The career of Puffer Hopkins (D. Appleton & Co., New York) [word count] [eaf264].
