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The Memoirs of Mr. Charles Yellowplush: Sometime Footman in Many Genteel Families
The satirical and entertaining memoirs of a Victorian footman by the author of Vanity Fair. Introduction by Sheila Michel.
128 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1837
About the author
William Makepeace Thackeray
4,619 books1,367 followersWilliam Makepeace Thackeray was an English novelist, satirist, and journalist, best known for his keen social commentary and his novel Vanity Fair (1847–1848). His works often explored themes of ambition, hypocrisy, and the moral failings of British society, making him one of the most significant literary figures of the Victorian era.
Born in Calcutta, British India, he was sent to England for his education after his father’s death. He attended Charterhouse School, where he developed a distaste for the rigid school system, and later enrolled at Trinity College, Cambridge. However, he left without earning a degree, instead traveling in Europe and pursuing artistic ambitions.
After losing much of his inheritance due to bad investments, Thackeray turned to writing for a living. He contributed satirical sketches, essays, and stories to periodicals such as Fraser’s Magazine and Punch, gradually building a reputation for his sharp wit and keen observational skills. His breakthrough came with Vanity Fair, a panoramic satire of English society that introduced the enduring character of Becky Sharp, a resourceful and amoral social climber.
Thackeray’s later novels, including Pendennis (1848–1850), The History of Henry Esmond (1852), and The Newcomes (1853–1855), continued to explore the lives of the English upper and middle classes, often focusing on the contrast between personal virtue and social ambition. His historical novel Henry Esmond was particularly praised for its detailed 18th-century setting and complex characterization.
In addition to his fiction, Thackeray was a noted public speaker and essayist, delivering lectures on the English humorists of the 18th century and on The Four Georges, a critical look at the British monarchy.
Despite his literary success, he lived with personal struggles, including the mental illness of his wife, Isabella, which deeply affected him. He remained devoted to his two daughters and was known for his kindness and generosity among his friends and colleagues.
His works remain widely read, appreciated for their incisive humor, rich characterizations, and unflinching critique of social pretensions.
Born in Calcutta, British India, he was sent to England for his education after his father’s death. He attended Charterhouse School, where he developed a distaste for the rigid school system, and later enrolled at Trinity College, Cambridge. However, he left without earning a degree, instead traveling in Europe and pursuing artistic ambitions.
After losing much of his inheritance due to bad investments, Thackeray turned to writing for a living. He contributed satirical sketches, essays, and stories to periodicals such as Fraser’s Magazine and Punch, gradually building a reputation for his sharp wit and keen observational skills. His breakthrough came with Vanity Fair, a panoramic satire of English society that introduced the enduring character of Becky Sharp, a resourceful and amoral social climber.
Thackeray’s later novels, including Pendennis (1848–1850), The History of Henry Esmond (1852), and The Newcomes (1853–1855), continued to explore the lives of the English upper and middle classes, often focusing on the contrast between personal virtue and social ambition. His historical novel Henry Esmond was particularly praised for its detailed 18th-century setting and complex characterization.
In addition to his fiction, Thackeray was a noted public speaker and essayist, delivering lectures on the English humorists of the 18th century and on The Four Georges, a critical look at the British monarchy.
Despite his literary success, he lived with personal struggles, including the mental illness of his wife, Isabella, which deeply affected him. He remained devoted to his two daughters and was known for his kindness and generosity among his friends and colleagues.
His works remain widely read, appreciated for their incisive humor, rich characterizations, and unflinching critique of social pretensions.
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
February 22, 2023
The Funny Spelling stuff is mostly a slog, though there are some inventive ones. (Even the boring ones helped me figure out how characters in other novels who are not written in full dialect are supposed to be speaking their weird lines.) The miscellany at the end (Yellowplush writing a couple of reviews for his editor) is too inside-baseball for me to understand at my current level of knowledge about 1830s England magazine controversies. But the Deuce-ace story is a great little novella.
April 3, 2023
I gave this book 4/5 because the final few chapters (in which Yellowplush endeavors to critique literature, but chiefly a play by Edward Bulwer-Lytton) are quite terrible.*
Miss Shum's Husband:
This is a great story. It is filled with absurdity, wordplay, and fun. Yellowplush, for instance, does not name seven or so of the Slamcoe daughters. The story is more-or-less a sort-of Cinderella tale, but, instead of riches, the Prince is a pretender. Although, their love is real! The mother character is given redemption via her curiosity at the husband's livelihood, for he really should be telling Mary about such things.
The Amours of Mr. Deuceace:
Yellowplush is taken into employ by Mr. Deuceace, one of the most villainous men of all England. He lives principally by thievery, is always in debt, and is always spending an enormous amount. A young man by name of Dawkins moves into his apartment complex--this young man is naïve and rich, a poet and quite a learned gentleman--and Deuceace battles it out with his fellow villain, Blewitt, over who shall have his money. Deuceace wins, proclaiming that he will give Blewitt half the earnings if he helps, but, by the end, does not--taking all but 400 pounds.
The satire in this story is manifest. Yellowplush is himself the subject of satire, for he has "honor" but a false honor, one that makes it clear that he is subordinate to his master--no matter how evil--and therefore did not speak out to any of his victims, for fear of telling tales of his master. We also see satire on the society in general--where money is so important, where safe-guards are not to be found, and where corruption in the higher ranks is quite enormous. To make a name in society is merely to be acquainted with the rich, the nobles, etc., etc., and to have fashionable clothing, commodities, and otherwise altogether the appearance of wealth.
Foring Parts:
Deuceace and Yellowplush sail to Bologne (Bolong). The satire is of the voyage--of the need to travel to become man, etc.--both directly and indirectly. Yellowplush both obviously (such as retching) and not-so-obviously (his sentiment of approval of traveling, paired with the reality of the boredom he feels; his desire to leave off childish things and be a "footman" (itself a joke), when he is immorally pursuing a course of robbery and sin with Deuceace). The dead cats along the ocean is a particularly good touch from Thackeray--it is quite ironic. As has been remarked countless times, putting oneself out in the world, so to speak, is always given as a metaphor for the sea. Of course, Yellowplush must do it.
Societal satire is again apparent. Of course, the English need to be superior is mentioned. That the English like abusing themselves--especially, when done by a rich man--is commented upon; however, Yellowplush shows he thinks that most of the European society is inferior to the British, through the medium of calling a cabbage a chou (pronounced: shoe)!! It is arrogance at the zenith--and it is lovely, doubly so because Yellowplush is none to good a man himself.
The puns were excellent. The joke of telescope being "tallow-scoop" is quite fun.
Deuceace at Paris:
This final story finishes the crescendo of the piece. Yellowplush, although morally dubious from the beginning, is now totally degraded. He would rob from his master, he would eavesdrop, he would make clear that he invaded the privacy of others' mail; he would not speak upon his masters' ills when employed by them; and for each he would give such-and-such a fun reason for why it was acceptable. Here, however, all he does is take a bribe, fully incorporate the perspective of a rich man's footman, and thereby is finally revealed as merely a leaf of society. His principles--where are they? What good does his sentiment do? They are nowhere and it does nothing, and that, one thinks, is entirely the point.
The heart, if cut out of Yellowplush, is not to be found in the world. Deuceace and his father attack one another--his father, out of revenge for not being paid 1000 lbs.--and his father wins. Mr. Crabs marries an heiress, the same to which Deuceace was aiming, achieves all her wealth, whilst his son marries the heiress' step-daughter, against said mother's consent, voiding her ability ever to be paid at all. Additionally, Deuceace is forced to pay all his ill-gained wealth, to lose his hand, and--in short--to be totally ruined economically. His wife, the humpbacked Matilda, too romantical to stay with Mr. Crabs (who offers her residence), instead stays with Deuceace, is beaten by him, quite possibly dying in poverty. Thackeray is not merely putting the worst people at the top (or bottom), but rather displaying to us a system: it is not just that the most evil among us gain in wealth, it is that some win and some fail, due to their levels of corruption. It is through machinations of the father that the son fails, and the son, because he is only selfishly devoted to himself, and unable to regain his stature, falls into horrible poverty, whilst retaining his meanness. One must think Thackeray is making a point about money--all this, in a sense, happens because of money.
One can see that Thackeray is doing a lot with this story. The Altamont narrative which opens the Yellowplush Correspondence is illustrative. Quite simply, it is a story of a man, who, desiring to be rich by honest means, hides his honesty to appeal to that same social monstrosity which Deuceace really does live within (being the son of an Earl). This man, when his lie is found out, falls back upon his loving wife, and they both move to Paris (where, by-the-bye, the Deuceace story mainly takes place), lives decently (and in love), and makes an honest name for himself therein. A happy end, indeed! Whereas, then, Altamont can live in happiness with his wife and poverty, Deuceace cannot--his love was for money, for self, and never aimed at his wife, nor the preservation of his concern with said wife.
This number is interestingalso for it contains a denouement--Deuceace did really make love to Mrs. Griffins, she really did use L'Orgle to attempt to kill him, and the whole monstrous plot was exactly as one would think--very well orchestrated.
I really liked this book (aside, of course, from the final few numbers) and will be reading more Thackeray. He, I think, was far more a man of the selfish persuasion than my review makes him out
*I could not tell whether Yellowplush was used satirically or not. Did Thackeray mean what was said? That the The Sea-Captain; or, the Birthright: a drama in five acts and in prose and verse . By the author of "The Lady of Lyons," "Richelieu," andc. Edward, Lord Lytton. has high-strung verse and a profusion of dramatic events seems nothing to me that egregious. Further, all of the so-called incomprehensible phrases cited as careless writing were (frankly) not at all incomprehensible.
Miss Shum's Husband:
This is a great story. It is filled with absurdity, wordplay, and fun. Yellowplush, for instance, does not name seven or so of the Slamcoe daughters. The story is more-or-less a sort-of Cinderella tale, but, instead of riches, the Prince is a pretender. Although, their love is real! The mother character is given redemption via her curiosity at the husband's livelihood, for he really should be telling Mary about such things.
The Amours of Mr. Deuceace:
Yellowplush is taken into employ by Mr. Deuceace, one of the most villainous men of all England. He lives principally by thievery, is always in debt, and is always spending an enormous amount. A young man by name of Dawkins moves into his apartment complex--this young man is naïve and rich, a poet and quite a learned gentleman--and Deuceace battles it out with his fellow villain, Blewitt, over who shall have his money. Deuceace wins, proclaiming that he will give Blewitt half the earnings if he helps, but, by the end, does not--taking all but 400 pounds.
The satire in this story is manifest. Yellowplush is himself the subject of satire, for he has "honor" but a false honor, one that makes it clear that he is subordinate to his master--no matter how evil--and therefore did not speak out to any of his victims, for fear of telling tales of his master. We also see satire on the society in general--where money is so important, where safe-guards are not to be found, and where corruption in the higher ranks is quite enormous. To make a name in society is merely to be acquainted with the rich, the nobles, etc., etc., and to have fashionable clothing, commodities, and otherwise altogether the appearance of wealth.
Foring Parts:
Deuceace and Yellowplush sail to Bologne (Bolong). The satire is of the voyage--of the need to travel to become man, etc.--both directly and indirectly. Yellowplush both obviously (such as retching) and not-so-obviously (his sentiment of approval of traveling, paired with the reality of the boredom he feels; his desire to leave off childish things and be a "footman" (itself a joke), when he is immorally pursuing a course of robbery and sin with Deuceace). The dead cats along the ocean is a particularly good touch from Thackeray--it is quite ironic. As has been remarked countless times, putting oneself out in the world, so to speak, is always given as a metaphor for the sea. Of course, Yellowplush must do it.
Societal satire is again apparent. Of course, the English need to be superior is mentioned. That the English like abusing themselves--especially, when done by a rich man--is commented upon; however, Yellowplush shows he thinks that most of the European society is inferior to the British, through the medium of calling a cabbage a chou (pronounced: shoe)!! It is arrogance at the zenith--and it is lovely, doubly so because Yellowplush is none to good a man himself.
The puns were excellent. The joke of telescope being "tallow-scoop" is quite fun.
Deuceace at Paris:
This final story finishes the crescendo of the piece. Yellowplush, although morally dubious from the beginning, is now totally degraded. He would rob from his master, he would eavesdrop, he would make clear that he invaded the privacy of others' mail; he would not speak upon his masters' ills when employed by them; and for each he would give such-and-such a fun reason for why it was acceptable. Here, however, all he does is take a bribe, fully incorporate the perspective of a rich man's footman, and thereby is finally revealed as merely a leaf of society. His principles--where are they? What good does his sentiment do? They are nowhere and it does nothing, and that, one thinks, is entirely the point.
The heart, if cut out of Yellowplush, is not to be found in the world. Deuceace and his father attack one another--his father, out of revenge for not being paid 1000 lbs.--and his father wins. Mr. Crabs marries an heiress, the same to which Deuceace was aiming, achieves all her wealth, whilst his son marries the heiress' step-daughter, against said mother's consent, voiding her ability ever to be paid at all. Additionally, Deuceace is forced to pay all his ill-gained wealth, to lose his hand, and--in short--to be totally ruined economically. His wife, the humpbacked Matilda, too romantical to stay with Mr. Crabs (who offers her residence), instead stays with Deuceace, is beaten by him, quite possibly dying in poverty. Thackeray is not merely putting the worst people at the top (or bottom), but rather displaying to us a system: it is not just that the most evil among us gain in wealth, it is that some win and some fail, due to their levels of corruption. It is through machinations of the father that the son fails, and the son, because he is only selfishly devoted to himself, and unable to regain his stature, falls into horrible poverty, whilst retaining his meanness. One must think Thackeray is making a point about money--all this, in a sense, happens because of money.
One can see that Thackeray is doing a lot with this story. The Altamont narrative which opens the Yellowplush Correspondence is illustrative. Quite simply, it is a story of a man, who, desiring to be rich by honest means, hides his honesty to appeal to that same social monstrosity which Deuceace really does live within (being the son of an Earl). This man, when his lie is found out, falls back upon his loving wife, and they both move to Paris (where, by-the-bye, the Deuceace story mainly takes place), lives decently (and in love), and makes an honest name for himself therein. A happy end, indeed! Whereas, then, Altamont can live in happiness with his wife and poverty, Deuceace cannot--his love was for money, for self, and never aimed at his wife, nor the preservation of his concern with said wife.
This number is interestingalso for it contains a denouement--Deuceace did really make love to Mrs. Griffins, she really did use L'Orgle to attempt to kill him, and the whole monstrous plot was exactly as one would think--very well orchestrated.
I really liked this book (aside, of course, from the final few numbers) and will be reading more Thackeray. He, I think, was far more a man of the selfish persuasion than my review makes him out
*I could not tell whether Yellowplush was used satirically or not. Did Thackeray mean what was said? That the The Sea-Captain; or, the Birthright: a drama in five acts and in prose and verse . By the author of "The Lady of Lyons," "Richelieu," andc. Edward, Lord Lytton. has high-strung verse and a profusion of dramatic events seems nothing to me that egregious. Further, all of the so-called incomprehensible phrases cited as careless writing were (frankly) not at all incomprehensible.
December 8, 2025
Yellowplush is one of Thackeray’s greatest comic inventions—a footman turned memoirist whose atrocious spelling, wildly inflated confidence, and razor-sharp gossip create one of the funniest narrative voices in Victorian literature.
Through this “uneducated” servant’s distorted spelling and exaggerated tales, Thackeray smuggles in pointed satire about aristocratic hypocrisy, social pretensions, and the absurdities of the upper classes. Yellowplush serves them tea, polishes their boots, and then absolutely eviscerates them in print. It’s glorious.
The brilliance lies in the linguistic play: the misspellings aren’t random; they’re part of the joke. Yellowplush thinks he’s being eloquent, but his language betrays his class while simultaneously exposing the stupidity of those above him. It’s class satire wrapped in slapstick.
And yet, beneath the humour, there’s real insight. Thackeray reveals the performative nature of social hierarchy—how servants often understand the “great” far better than they understand themselves.
It’s cheeky, fast-paced, and wickedly funny—Victorian comedy with a surprisingly modern bite.
Through this “uneducated” servant’s distorted spelling and exaggerated tales, Thackeray smuggles in pointed satire about aristocratic hypocrisy, social pretensions, and the absurdities of the upper classes. Yellowplush serves them tea, polishes their boots, and then absolutely eviscerates them in print. It’s glorious.
The brilliance lies in the linguistic play: the misspellings aren’t random; they’re part of the joke. Yellowplush thinks he’s being eloquent, but his language betrays his class while simultaneously exposing the stupidity of those above him. It’s class satire wrapped in slapstick.
And yet, beneath the humour, there’s real insight. Thackeray reveals the performative nature of social hierarchy—how servants often understand the “great” far better than they understand themselves.
It’s cheeky, fast-paced, and wickedly funny—Victorian comedy with a surprisingly modern bite.
June 9, 2017
This is a book of two halves. The first part I thoroughly enjoyed - it is a fictional account of a footman in the service of his thoroughly disreputable masters. It is fascinating and often hilarious. Then, the second half is basically spoof literary criticism, written in the same "uneducated" style. This part, for me, does not work at all, which is a shame. So, two and a half stars really, for the first part of the book only.
February 24, 2016
I liked the parts concerning Dueceace but found the language a bit trying and sometimes over-the-top. The ending bit about the play review was a chore to get through. It's definitely not as good as Vanity Fair!
August 1, 2020
I thought I would start Thackeray at the beginning and see how it goes: so far, so good. As a collection of magazine pieces, it was a bit uneven, but the main sequence was very enjoyable. The last section lost my interest slightly, but was probably more topical when the paper was printed. Normally, non-standard spelling to achieve an effect irritates me but for some reason it worked here and added to the obvious humour.
December 31, 2021
Un récit assez amusant et caustique sur la société interlope des nobles ruinés mais sans doute moins drôle que ce que croit l’auteur.on sent beaucoup la volonté d’amuser mais on sourit finalement assez peu et assez superficiellement.
J’ai aussi eu un certain mal à m’identifier aux personnages, tous aussi puants et immoraux les uns que les autres
J’ai aussi eu un certain mal à m’identifier aux personnages, tous aussi puants et immoraux les uns que les autres
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August 15, 2022I consider this actually 2 books book one ( chapters 1-10) being highly enjoyable. Fantastic caricatures and a style of colloquial writing that was a real window into the period. The latter part of the book I feel was probably interesting at the time, but did not interest me personally.
April 1, 2025
Un petit roman plein d'un humour anglais délicieux, qui se déguste au XXIe siècle comme au XIXe et c'est un plaisir !
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March 20, 2018Hmm. I found a first edition of this for 20p at my local car boot sale, but the low review scores make me wonder if it's worth reading. Still, I'll try any Victorian novel.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews