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The vagabond. Badeau, Adam (1831–1895).
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THE VAGABOND:

BY

ADAM BADEAU.

"I stand condemned, A wandering vagabond." Richard II.

NEW YORK: RUDD & CARLETON, 130 GRAND STREET,
(BROOKS BUILDING, COR. OF BROADWAY.)

MDCCCLIX.
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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by ADAM BADEAU, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. B. CRAIGHEAD, Printer, Stereotyper, and Electrotyper, Carton Building, 81, 83, and 85 Centre Street.

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTORY.

  • "The origin and commencement."

—Hamlet.

I AM a Vagabond: I care not who knows it, nor who is frightened from perusing my papers because of the announcement. You who dwell in dull propriety for ever, may be shocked; you who take names for things, may shut up the book; you may remember that Johnson defined a Vagabond as "a term of reproach," and that he stigmatized vagabundus as "low Latin," the lexicographer! but you must at least admit that I who have so exact an appreciation of my own character, am likely to be correct in my notions about other people.

Vagabond has a merry sound in my ears; the word is at any rate classical French, and vagare was good enough Latin for Virgil; while as regards English, Shakespeare used it; and though Richard III. does speak of "vagabonds, rascals, and runaways," all in one breath, surely the Crookback is poor authority in such matters; and though La Feu does say to Parolles, in "All's Well that Ends Well," "You are a vagabond, and no true page: viii-ix[View Page viii-ix] traveller," La Feu was himself a scamp unworthy of belief. I maintain that the vagabonds are an illustrious fraternity. Æneas, pius Æneas, madam, was one of the first, wondering around the Lybian shores; and Homer; (you have heard of the poet? Yes?) did he not write the Odyssey, which is nothing but a history of the adventures of a vagabond? Ulysses had a good time, too, with Calypso and Circe, and he escaped both Scylla and Charybdis, did he? Then the knights-errant of chivalry, what were they but vagabonds? Their very name indicates their vagrant habits. Tis true that Webster's dictionary is worse than Johnson's; it does say "by the laws of England and the United States, vagabonds are liable to be taken up and imprisoned;" but Webster couldn't spell, and one of his name was hanged; so how can he be right? Blackstone, a person who wrote commentaries on law, a century ago, approaches nearer to justice in his comments on my tribe: "Idle persons or vagabonds, whom our ancient statutes describe to be such as wake at night (correct), and sleep on the day (after a ball), and haunt customable taverns and alehouses, and routs about; (well, who don't go to routs that gets invited), and no man wot from whence they came, nor whither they went." And why should any man have wot? let any man restrain his curiosity. Two other old authors are all I shall quote to show how versed I am in antiquarian lore.

Holinshed says: "The vagabond that will abide nowhere, but runneth up and down from place to place," and Du Cange exclaims claims: "Vagabundus que non habet domicilium, sed hodie hic, et cras alibi." The women at least are silenced by my Latin sentence; that is to them unanswerable; if they try me any further, I vow I'll give them Greek; so ladies beware!

But do you want to know of some more vagabonds? There are Benedick and Jaques, both good fellows; and Gil Blas of Santillane, the companion of lackeys and their lords, the secretary of archbishops, the comrade of banditti, and the favored swain of half a score of black-eyed Castilian damsels; Cortez and Pizarro too, were nothing but vagabonds on a grander scale. The Spaniards with all their stately ceremony seem inclined this way, for think of the noble Don Cæsar de Bazan, that Wallack has played so superbly; ragged and courteous, full of feeling and frolic, ripe for any mischief, and ready for any generous deed; the very prince of vagabonds. Then there's Captain John Smith in our own history, whose name will remind every one that the sex is not averse to these good-for-nothing, fortunate scamps. Has not dear, dusky, little Pocahontas rendered herself for ever famous by flinging her copper-colored arms round a vagabond's head? And would not I be willing that fairer maids should follow the example to-day? And don't some frolicking rollicking, saucy blade, without a tittle of your worth, Mr. Spectator, or a pretension to your learning, Mr. Rambler, with none of the qualities that should bear the palm; but only a vagabond, don't he often distance all his rivals in modern drawing-rooms?

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I am a vagabond around town. I go prying into all sorts of places, and frequent every corner of Manhattan. I purpose one day to give you a sketch of some scene—say in a pawnbroker's shop, and at another time will discuss the marvellous beauty of an opera singer's legs. I am an habitué of the Academy of Music, but often kill time by dropping in at the shows of marvellous beasts and five-legged donkeys on Chatham street. I visit all places of worship, from black prayer-meetings to the yearly gatherings of the Friends, go to hear Antoinette Brown and Dr. Hawks; I will sometimes tell you what I have seen behind the curtain, and sometimes discuss the merits of a favorite actor on the stage. Pictures and parties, beaux and bores, all I study; art and life, in all their phases I like to contemplate. I have peered among the purlieus of Justice, and burrowed in Knickerbocker corners for relics of our Dutch and Huguenot ancestry. I am likely to find out whatever there is of queer, quaint, or passing strange in this metropolis. But, with all my eagerness to catch the bubble of the minute ere it burst, to crowd as much experience into an hour as any man, I have my sober times, and can find sermons in stones, sometimes more forcible than those I hear in churches; so my lucubrations may not always be in a merry vein. I know not that I am merrier than other men. I am young (else I would not be a vagabond), and life seems pleasant enough to me; if you look at it with my eyes, it will be like gazing through Claude Lorraine glasses—every thing will be in bright colors. Still, on a dull day, you may get a soberer paper, and on a sunny one, you shall have quips and cranks and wanton wiles.

I forgot to tell you that in all my wanderings, whithersoever I may penetrate, whether into mysteries like those of Bona Dea, from which the entire masculine gender was excluded, or within the sanctum sanctorum of temples, over whose doors might be inscribed, as of old, "Procul, O procul, este profani!" though I may tell you of things that some of you would otherwise dream not of, though I discuss fashionable belles and reverend priests, as well as Bowery actresses or apple-venders, I hope never to transgress the limits which good breeding imposes. I shall disclose no secrets that ought to be kept, and give no inquisitive gossip food for scandal So now you know me. I have introduced myself, taken my text, cleared my throat, and blown my nose; otherwise, Mr. —— of Niblo's, has called "Francois!" and running out from behind the scenes, the débutant bows his best bow, smiles his opening smirk, and is ready to begin.

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PREFACE.

THE following papers were written for a weekly periodical published in New York. This fact will account for allusions that might not otherwise seem always pertinent; if it should also account for the slight degree of interest the articles may happen to excite when the pertinency is passed; the explanation will be in some measure consolatory to

THE AUTHOR.

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