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diff --git a/4499-h/4499-h.htm b/4499-h/4499-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f15479e --- /dev/null +++ b/4499-h/4499-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,23309 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Short Works of George Meredith + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Entire Short Works of George Meredith +by George Meredith + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Short Works of George Meredith + +Author: George Meredith + +Release Date: October 13, 2006 [EBook #4499] +Last Updated: August 25, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHORT WORKS OF MEREDITH *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + THE SHORT WORKS OF GEORGE MEREDITH + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>FARINA</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE WHITE ROSE CLUB </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE TAPESTRY WORD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE WAGER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE SILVER ARROW </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> THE LILIES OF THE VALLEY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE MISSIVES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> THE MONK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> THE RIDE AND THE RACE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE COMBAT ON DRACHENFELS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> THE GOSHAWK LEADS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> WERNER’S ECK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> THE WATER-LADY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE RESCUE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> THE PASSAGE OF THE RHINE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> THE BACK-BLOWS OF SATHANAS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> THE ENTRY INTO COLOGNE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_CONC"> CONCLUSION </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> <b>THE CASE OF GENERAL OPLE AND LADY CAMPER</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> <b>THE TALE OF CHLOE AN EPISODE IN THE HISTORY + OF BEAU BEAMISH</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> <b>THE HOUSE ON THE BEACH</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0052"> <b>THE GENTLEMAN OF FIFTY AND THE DAMSEL OF + NINETEEN</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0059"> <b>THE SENTIMENTALISTS</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0060"> <b>MISCELLANEOUS PROSE</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION TO W. M. THACKERAY’S “THE FOUR + GEORGES” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0063"> A PAUSE IN THE STRIFE—1886 </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0064"> CONCESSION TO THE CELT—1886 </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0065"> LESLIE STEPHEN—1904 </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0066"> CORRESPONDENCE FROM THE SEAT OF WAR IN ITALY + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0067"> HEADQUARTERS OF THE FIRST ARMY CORPS, </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0068"> ON THE IDEA OF COMEDY AND OF THE USES OF THE + COMIC SPIRIT {1} </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_FOOT"> <b>Footnotes</b> </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + FARINA + </h2> + <h4> + <b> By George Meredith </b> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </h4> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WHITE ROSE CLUB + </h2> + <p> + In those lusty ages when the Kaisers lifted high the golden goblet of + Aachen, and drank, elbow upward, the green-eyed wine of old romance, there + lived, a bow-shot from the bones of the Eleven Thousand Virgins and the + Three Holy Kings, a prosperous Rhinelander, by name Gottlieb Groschen, or, + as it was sometimes ennobled, Gottlieb von Groschen; than whom no + wealthier merchant bartered for the glory of his ancient mother-city, nor + more honoured burgess swallowed impartially red juice and white under the + shadow of his own fig-tree. + </p> + <p> + Vine-hills, among the hottest sun-bibbers of the Rheingau, glistened in + the roll of Gottlieb’s possessions; corn-acres below Cologne; + basalt-quarries about Linz; mineral-springs in Nassau, a legacy of the + Romans to the genius and enterprise of the first of German traders. He + could have bought up every hawking crag, owner and all, from Hatto’s Tower + to Rheineck. Lore-ley, combing her yellow locks against the night-cloud, + beheld old Gottlieb’s rafts endlessly stealing on the moonlight through + the iron pass she peoples above St. Goar. A wailful host were the wives of + his raftsmen widowed there by her watery music! + </p> + <p> + This worthy citizen of Cologne held vasty manuscript letters of the Kaiser + addressed to him: + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear Well-born son and Subject of mine, Gottlieb!’ and he was easy with + the proudest princes of the Holy German Realm. For Gottlieb was a + money-lender and an honest man in one body. He laid out for the plenteous + harvests of usury, not pressing the seasons with too much rigour. ‘I sow + my seed in winter,’ said he, ‘and hope to reap good profit in autumn; but + if the crop be scanty, better let it lie and fatten the soil.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Old earth’s the wisest creditor,’ he would add; ‘she never squeezes the + sun, but just takes what he can give her year by year, and so makes sure + of good annual interest.’ + </p> + <p> + Therefore when people asked Gottlieb how he had risen to such a pinnacle + of fortune, the old merchant screwed his eye into its wisest corner, and + answered slyly, ‘Because I ‘ve always been a student of the heavenly + bodies’; a communication which failed not to make the orbs and systems + objects of ardent popular worship in Cologne, where the science was long + since considered alchymic, and still may be. + </p> + <p> + Seldom could the Kaiser go to war on Welschland without first taking + earnest counsel of his Well-born son and Subject Gottlieb, and lightening + his chests. Indeed the imperial pastime must have ceased, and the Kaiser + had languished but for him. Cologne counted its illustrious citizen + something more than man. The burghers doffed when he passed; and scampish + leather-draggled urchins gazed after him with praeternatural respect on + their hanging chins, as if a gold-mine of great girth had walked through + the awe-struck game. + </p> + <p> + But, for the young men of Cologne he had a higher claim to reverence as + father of the fair Margarita, the White Rose of Germany; a noble maiden, + peerless, and a jewel for princes. + </p> + <p> + The devotion of these youths should give them a name in chivalry. In her + honour, daily and nightly, they earned among themselves black bruises and + paraded discoloured countenances, with the humble hope to find it pleasing + in her sight. The tender fanatics went in bands up and down Rhineland, + challenging wayfarers and the peasantry with staff and beaker to + acknowledge the supremacy of their mistress. Whoso of them journeyed into + foreign parts, wrote home boasting how many times his head had been broken + on behalf of the fair Margarita; and if this happened very often, a spirit + of envy was created, which compelled him, when he returned, to verify his + prowess on no less than a score of his rivals. Not to possess a + beauty-scar, as the wounds received in these endless combats were called, + became the sign of inferiority, so that much voluntary maiming was + conjectured to be going on; and to obviate this piece of treachery, + minutes of fights were taken and attested, setting forth that a certain + glorious cut or crack was honourably won in fair field; on what occasion; + and from whom; every member of the White Rose Club keeping his particular + scroll, and, on days of festival and holiday, wearing it haughtily in his + helm. Strangers entering Cologne were astonished at the hideous appearance + of the striplings, and thought they never had observed so ugly a race; but + they were forced to admit the fine influence of beauty on commerce, seeing + that the consumption of beer increased almost hourly. All Bavaria could + not equal Cologne for quantity made away with. + </p> + <p> + The chief members of the White Rose Club were Berthold Schmidt, the rich + goldsmith’s son; Dietrich Schill, son of the imperial saddler; Heinrich + Abt, Franz Endermann, and Ernst Geller, sons of chief burghers, each of + whom carried a yard-long scroll in his cap, and was too disfigured in + person for men to require an inspection of the document. They were + dangerous youths to meet, for the oaths, ceremonies, and recantations they + demanded from every wayfarer, under the rank of baron, were what few might + satisfactorily perform, if lovers of woman other than the fair Margarita, + or loyal husbands; and what none save trained heads and stomachs could + withstand, however naturally manful. The captain of the Club was he who + could drink most beer without intermediate sighing, and whose face + reckoned the proudest number of slices and mixture of colours. The + captaincy was most in dispute between Dietrich Schill and Berthold + Schmidt, who, in the heat and constancy of contention, were gradually + losing likeness to man. ‘Good coin,’ they gloried to reflect, ‘needs no + stamp.’ + </p> + <p> + One youth in Cologne held out against the standing tyranny, and chose to + do beauty homage in his own fashion, and at his leisure. It was Farina, + and oaths were registered against him over empty beer-barrels. An axiom of + the White Rose Club laid it down that everybody must be enamoured of + Margarita, and the conscience of the Club made them trebly suspicious of + those who were not members. They had the consolation of knowing that + Farina was poor, but then he was affirmed a student of Black Arts, and + from such a one the worst might reasonably be feared. He might bewitch + Margarita! + </p> + <p> + Dietrich Schill was deputed by the Club to sound the White Rose herself on + the subject of Farina, and one afternoon in the vintage season, when she + sat under the hot vine-poles among maiden friends, eating ripe grapes, up + sauntered Dietrich, smirking, cap in hand, with his scroll trailed behind + him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Wilt thou?’ said Margarita, offering him a bunch. + </p> + <p> + ‘Unhappy villain that I am!’ replied Dietrich, gesticulating fox-like + refusal; ‘if I but accept a favour, I break faith with the Club.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Break it to pleasure me,’ said Margarita, smiling wickedly. + </p> + <p> + Dietrich gasped. He stood on tiptoe to see if any of the Club were by, and + half-stretched out his hand. A mocking laugh caused him to draw it back as + if stung. The grapes fell. Farina was at Margarita’s feet offering them in + return. + </p> + <p> + ‘Wilt thou?’ said Margarita, with softer stress, and slight excess of + bloom in her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + Farina put the purple cluster to his breast, and clutched them hard on his + heart, still kneeling. + </p> + <p> + Margarita’s brow and bosom seemed to be reflections of the streaming + crimson there. She shook her face to the sky, and affected laughter at the + symbol. Her companions clapped hands. Farina’s eyes yearned to her once, + and then he rose and joined in the pleasantry. + </p> + <p> + Fury helped Dietrich to forget his awkwardness. He touched Farina on the + shoulder with two fingers, and muttered huskily: ‘The Club never allow + that.’ + </p> + <p> + Farina bowed, as to thank him deeply for the rules of the Club. ‘I am not + a member, you know,’ said he, and strolled to a seat close by Margarita. + </p> + <p> + Dietrich glared after him. As head of a Club he understood the use of + symbols. He had lost a splendid opportunity, and Farina had seized it. + Farina had robbed him. + </p> + <p> + ‘May I speak with Mistress Margarita?’ inquired the White Rose chief, in a + ragged voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘Surely, Dietrich! do speak,’ said Margarita. + </p> + <p> + ‘Alone?’ he continued. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is that allowed by the Club?’ said one of the young girls, with a saucy + glance. + </p> + <p> + Dietrich deigned no reply, but awaited Margarita’s decision. She hesitated + a second; then stood up her full height before him; faced him steadily, + and beckoned him some steps up the vine-path. Dietrich bowed, and passing + Farina, informed him that the Club would wring satisfaction out of him for + the insult. + </p> + <p> + Farina laughed, but answered, ‘Look, you of the Club! beer-swilling has + improved your manners as much as fighting has beautified your faces. Go + on; drink and fight! but remember that the Kaiser’s coming, and fellows + with him who will not be bullied.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What mean you?’ cried Dietrich, lurching round on his enemy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not so loud, friend,’ returned Farina. ‘Or do you wish to frighten the + maidens? I mean this, that the Club had better give as little offence as + possible, and keep their eyes as wide as they can, if they want to be of + service to Mistress Margarita.’ + </p> + <p> + Dietrich turned off with a grunt. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now!’ said Margarita. + </p> + <p> + She was tapping her foot. Dietrich grew unfaithful to the Club, and looked + at her longer than his mission warranted. She was bright as the sunset + gardens of the Golden Apples. The braids of her yellow hair were bound in + wreaths, and on one side of her head a saffron crocus was stuck with the + bell downward. Sweetness, song, and wit hung like dews of morning on her + grape-stained lips. She wore a scarlet corset with bands of black velvet + across her shoulders. The girlish gown was thin blue stuff, and fell short + over her firm-set feet, neatly cased in white leather with buckles. There + was witness in her limbs and the way she carried her neck of an amiable, + but capable, dragon, ready, when aroused, to bristle up and guard the + Golden Apples against all save the rightful claimant. Yet her nether lip + and little white chin-ball had a dreamy droop; her frank blue eyes went + straight into the speaker: the dragon slept. It was a dangerous charm. + ‘For,’ says the minnesinger, ‘what ornament more enchants us on a young + beauty than the soft slumber of a strength never yet called forth, and + that herself knows not of! It sings double things to the heart of + knighthood; lures, and warns us; woos, and threatens. ‘Tis as nature, + shining peace, yet the mother of storm.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There is no man,’ rapturously exclaims Heinrich von der Jungferweide, + ‘can resist the desire to win a sweet treasure before which lies a dragon + sleeping. The very danger prattles promise.’ + </p> + <p> + But the dragon must really sleep, as with Margarita. + </p> + <p> + ‘A sham dragon, shamming sleep, has destroyed more virgins than all the + heathen emperors,’ says old Hans Aepfelmann of Duesseldorf. + </p> + <p> + Margarita’s foot was tapping quicker. + </p> + <p> + ‘Speak, Dietrich!’ she said. + </p> + <p> + Dietrich declared to the Club that at this point he muttered, ‘We love + you.’ Margarita was glad to believe he had not spoken of himself. He then + informed her of the fears entertained by the Club, sworn to watch over and + protect her, regarding Farina’s arts. + </p> + <p> + ‘And what fear you?’ said Margarita. + </p> + <p> + ‘We fear, sweet mistress, he may be in league with Sathanas,’ replied + Dietrich. + </p> + <p> + ‘Truly, then,’ said Margarita, ‘of all the youths in Cologne he is the + least like his confederate.’ + </p> + <p> + Dietrich gulped and winked, like a patient recovering wry-faced from an + abhorred potion. + </p> + <p> + ‘We have warned you, Fraulein Groschen!’ he exclaimed. ‘It now becomes our + duty to see that you are not snared.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita reddened, and returned: ‘You are kind. But I am a Christian + maiden and not a Pagan soldan, and I do not require a body of tawny guards + at my heels.’ + </p> + <p> + Thereat she flung back to her companions, and began staining her pretty + mouth with grapes anew. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TAPESTRY WORD + </h2> + <p> + Fair maids will have their hero in history. Siegfried was Margarita’s + chosen. She sang of Siegfried all over the house. ‘O the old days of + Germany, when such a hero walked!’ she sang. + </p> + <p> + ‘And who wins Margarita,’ mused Farina, ‘happier than Siegfried, has in + his arms Brunhild and Chrimhild together!’ + </p> + <p> + Crowning the young girl’s breast was a cameo, and the skill of some + cunning artist out of Welschland had wrought on it the story of the + Drachenfels. Her bosom heaved the battle up and down. + </p> + <p> + This cameo was a north star to German manhood, but caused many chaste + expressions of abhorrence from Aunt Lisbeth, Gottlieb’s unmarried sister, + who seemed instinctively to take part with the Dragon. She was a + frail-fashioned little lady, with a face betokening the perpetual smack of + lemon, and who reigned in her brother’s household when the good wife was + gone. Margarita’s robustness was beginning to alarm and shock Aunt + Lisbeth’s sealed stock of virtue. + </p> + <p> + ‘She must be watched, such a madl as that,’ said Aunt Lisbeth. ‘Ursula! + what limbs she has!’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita was watched; but the spy being neither foe nor friend, nothing + was discovered against her. This did not satisfy Aunt Lisbeth, whose own + suspicion was her best witness. She allowed that Margarita dissembled + well. + </p> + <p> + ‘But,’ said she to her niece, ‘though it is good in a girl not to flaunt + these naughtinesses in effrontery, I care for you too much not to say—Be + what you seem, my little one!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And that am I!’ exclaimed Margarita, starting up and towering. + </p> + <p> + ‘Right good, my niece,’ Lisbeth squealed; ‘but now Frau Groschen lies in + God’s acre, you owe your duty to me, mind! Did you confess last week?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘From beginning to end,’ replied Margarita. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lisbeth fixed pious reproach on Margarita’s cameo. + </p> + <p> + ‘And still you wear that thing?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why not?’ said Margarita. + </p> + <p> + ‘Girl! who would bid you set it in such a place save Satan? Oh, thou poor + lost child! that the eyes of the idle youths may be drawn there! and thou + become his snare to others, Margarita! What was that Welsh wandering + juggler but the foul fiend himself, mayhap, thou maiden of sin! They say + he has been seen in Cologne lately. He was swarthy as Satan and limped of + one leg. Good Master in heaven, protect us! it was Satan himself I could + swear!’ + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lisbeth crossed brow and breast. + </p> + <p> + Margarita had commenced fingering the cameo, as if to tear it away; but + Aunt Lisbeth’s finish made her laugh outright. + </p> + <p> + ‘Where I see no harm, aunty, I shall think the good God is,’ she answered; + ‘and where I see there’s harm, I shall think Satan lurks.’ + </p> + <p> + A simper of sour despair passed over Aunt Lisbeth. She sighed, and was + silent, being one of those very weak reeds who are easily vanquished and + never overcome. + </p> + <p> + ‘Let us go on with the Tapestry, child,’ said she. + </p> + <p> + Now, Margarita was ambitious of completing a certain Tapestry for + presentation to Kaiser Heinrich on his entry into Cologne after his last + campaign on the turbaned Danube. The subject was again her beloved + Siegfried slaying the Dragon on Drachenfels. Whenever Aunt Lisbeth + indulged in any bitter virginity, and was overmatched by Margarita’s frank + maidenhood, she hung out this tapestry as a flag of truce. They were + working it in bits, not having contrivances to do it in a piece. Margarita + took Siegfried and Aunt Lisbeth the Dragon. They shared the crag between + them. A roguish gleam of the Rhine toward Nonnenwerth could be already + made out, Roland’s Corner hanging like a sentinel across the chanting + island, as one top-heavy with long watch. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lisbeth was a great proficient in the art, and had taught Margarita. + The little lady learnt it, with many other gruesome matters, in the + Palatine of Bohemia’s family. She usually talked of the spectres of + Hollenbogenblitz Castle in the passing of the threads. Those were dismal + spectres in Bohemia, smelling of murder and the charnel-breath of + midnight. They uttered noises that wintered the blood, and revealed sights + that stiffened hair three feet long; ay, and kept it stiff! + </p> + <p> + Margarita placed herself on a settle by the low-arched window, and Aunt + Lisbeth sat facing her. An evening sun blazoned the buttresses of the + Cathedral, and shadowed the workframes of the peaceful couple to a + temperate light. Margarita unrolled a sampler sheathed with twists of + divers coloured threads, and was soon busy silver-threading Siegfried’s + helm and horns. + </p> + <p> + ‘I told you of the steward, poor Kraut, did I not, child?’ inquired Aunt + Lisbeth, quietly clearing her throat. + </p> + <p> + ‘Many times!’ said Margarita, and went on humming over her knee + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Her love was a Baron, + A Baron so bold; + She loved him for love, + He loved her for gold.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘He must see for himself, and be satisfied,’ continued Aunt Lisbeth; ‘and + Holy Thomas to warn him for an example! Poor Kraut!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor Kraut!’ echoed Margarita. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘The King loved wine, and the Knight loved wine, + And they loved the summer weather: + They might have loved each other well, + But for one they loved together.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘You may say, poor Kraut, child!’ said Aunt Lisbeth. ‘Well! his face was + before that as red as this dragon’s jaw, and ever after he went about as + white as a pullet’s egg. That was something wonderful!’ ‘That was it!’ + chimed Margarita. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘O the King he loved his lawful wife, + The Knight a lawless lady: + And ten on one-made ringing strife, + Beneath the forest shady.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘Fifty to one, child!’ said Aunt Lisbeth: ‘You forget the story. They made + Kraut sit with them at the jabbering feast, the only mortal there. The + walls were full of eye-sockets without eyes, but phosphorus instead, + burning blue and damp.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not to-night, aunty dear! It frightens me so,’ pleaded Margarita, for she + saw the dolor coming. + </p> + <p> + ‘Night! when it’s broad mid-day, thou timid one! Good heaven take pity on + such as thou! The dish was seven feet in length by four broad. Kraut + measured it with his eye, and never forgot it. Not he! When the dish-cover + was lifted, there he saw himself lying, boiled! + </p> + <p> + “‘I did not feel uncomfortable then,” Kraut told us. “It seemed natural.” + </p> + <p> + ‘His face, as it lay there, he says, was quite calm, only a little + wrinkled, and piggish-looking-like. There was the mole on his chin, and + the pucker under his left eyelid. Well! the Baron carved. All the guests + were greedy for a piece of him. Some cried out for breast; some for toes. + It was shuddering cold to sit and hear that! The Baroness said, “Cheek!”’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ shrieked Margarita, ‘that can I not bear! I will not hear it, aunt; + I will not!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Cheek!’ Aunt Lisbeth reiterated, nodding to the floor. + </p> + <p> + Margarita put her fingers to her ears. + </p> + <p> + ‘Still, Kraut says, even then he felt nothing odd. Of course he was + horrified to be sitting with spectres as you and I should be; but the + first tremble of it was over. He had plunged into the bath of horrors, and + there he was. I ‘ve heard that you must pronounce the names of the Virgin + and Trinity, sprinkling water round you all the while for three minutes; + and if you do this without interruption, everything shall disappear. So + they say. “Oh! dear heaven of mercy!” says Kraut, “what I felt when the + Baron laid his long hunting-knife across my left cheek!”’ + </p> + <p> + Here Aunt Lisbeth lifted her eyes to dote upon Margarita’s fright. She was + very displeased to find her niece, with elbows on the window-sill and + hands round her head, quietly gazing into the street. + </p> + <p> + She said severely, ‘Where did you learn that song you were last singing, + Margarita? Speak, thou girl!’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita laughed. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘The thrush, and the lark, and the blackbird, + They taught me how to sing: + And O that the hawk would lend his eye, + And the eagle lend his wing.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘I will not hear these shameless songs,’ exclaimed Aunt Lisbeth. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘For I would view the lands they view, + And be where they have been: + It is not enough to be singing + For ever in dells unseen!’ +</pre> + <p> + A voice was heard applauding her. ‘Good! right good! Carol again, + Gretelchen! my birdie!’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita turned, and beheld her father in the doorway. She tripped toward + him, and heartily gave him their kiss of meeting. Gottlieb glanced at the + helm of Siegfried. + </p> + <p> + ‘Guessed the work was going well; you sing so lightsomely to-day, Grete! + Very pretty! And that’s Drachenfels? Bones of the Virgins! what a bold + fellow was Siegfried, and a lucky, to have the neatest lass in Deutschland + in love with him. Well, we must marry her to Siegfried after all, I + believe! Aha? or somebody as good as Siegfried. So chirrup on, my + darling!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Aunt Lisbeth does not approve of my songs,’ replied Margarita, untwisting + some silver threads. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do thy father’s command, girl!’ said Aunt Lisbeth. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘And doing his command, + Should I do a thing of ill, + I’d rather die to his lovely face, + Than wanton at his will.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘There—there,’ said Aunt Lisbeth, straining out her fingers; ‘you + see, Gottlieb, what over-indulgence brings her to. Not another girl in + blessed Rhineland, and Bohemia to boot, dared say such words!—than—I + can’t repeat them!—don’t ask me!—She’s becoming a Frankish + girl!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What ballad’s that?’ said Gottlieb, smiling. + </p> + <p> + ‘The Ballad of Holy Ottilia; and her lover was sold to darkness. And she + loved him—loved him——’ + </p> + <p> + ‘As you love Siegfried, you little one?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘More, my father; for she saw Winkried, and I never saw Siegfried. Ah! if + I had seen Siegfried! Never mind. She loved him; but she loved Virtue + more. And Virtue is the child of God, and the good God forgave her for + loving Winkried, the Devil’s son, because she loved Virtue more, and He + rescued her as she was being dragged down—down—down, and was + half fainting with the smell of brimstone—rescued her and had her + carried into His Glory, head and feet, on the wings of angels, before all + men, as a hope to little maidens. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘And when I thought that I was lost + I found that I was saved, + And I was borne through blessed clouds, + Where the banners of bliss were waved.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘And so you think you, too, may fall in, love with Devils’ sons, girl?’ + was Aunt Lisbeth’s comment. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do look at Lisbeth’s Dragon, little Heart! it’s so like!’ said Margarita + to her father. + </p> + <p> + Old Gottlieb twitted his hose, and chuckled. + </p> + <p> + ‘She’s my girl! that may be seen,’ said he, patting her, and wheezed up + from his chair to waddle across to the Dragon. But Aunt Lisbeth tartly + turned the Dragon to the wall. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is not yet finished, Gottlieb, and must not be looked at,’ she + interposed. ‘I will call for wood, and see to a fire: these evenings of + Spring wax cold’: and away whimpered Aunt Lisbeth. + </p> + <p> + Margarita sang: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘I with my playmates, + In riot and disorder, + Were gathering herb and blossom + Along the forest border.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘Thy mother’s song, child of my heart!’ said Gottlieb; ‘but vex not good + Lisbeth: she loves thee!’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘And do you think she loves me? + And will you say ‘tis true? + O, and will she have me, + When I come up to woo?’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘Thou leaping doe! thou chattering pie!’ said Gottlieb. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘She shall have ribbons and trinkets, + And shine like a morn of May, + When we are off to the little hill-church, + Our flowery bridal way.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘That she shall; and something more!’ cried Gottlieb. ‘But, hark thee, + Gretelchen; the Kaiser will be here in three days. Thou dear one! had I + not stored and hoarded all for thee, I should now have my feet on a + hearthstone where even he might warm his boot. So get thy best dresses and + jewels in order, and look thyself; proud as any in the land. A simple + burgher’s daughter now, Grete; but so shalt thou not end, my butterfly, or + there’s neither worth nor wit in Gottlieb Groschen!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Three days!’ Margarita exclaimed; ‘and the helm not finished, and the + tapestry-pieces not sewed and joined, and the water not shaded off.—Oh! + I must work night and day.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Child! I’ll have no working at night! Your rosy cheeks will soon be + sucked out by oil-light, and you look no better than poor tallow Court + beauties—to say nothing of the danger. This old house saw Charles + the Great embracing the chief magistrate of his liege city yonder. Some + swear he slept in it. He did not sneeze at smaller chambers than our + Kaisers abide. No gold ceilings with cornice carvings, but plain wooden + beams.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Know that the men of great renown, + Were men of simple needs: + Bare to the Lord they laid them down, + And slept on mighty deeds.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘God wot, there’s no emptying thy store of ballads, Grete: so much shall + be said of thee. Yes; times are changeing: We’re growing degenerate. Look + at the men of Linz now to what they were! Would they have let the lads of + Andernach float down cabbage-stalks to them without a shy back? And why? + All because they funk that brigand-beast Werner, who gets redemption from + Laach, hard by his hold, whenever he commits a crime worth paying for. As + for me, my timber and stuffs must come down stream, and are too good for + the nixen under Rhine, or think you I would acknowledge him with a toll, + the hell-dog? Thunder and lightning! if old scores could be rubbed out on + his hide!’ + </p> + <p> + Gottlieb whirled a thong-lashing arm in air, and groaned of law and + justice. What were they coming to! + </p> + <p> + Margarita softened the theme with a verse: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘And tho’ to sting his enemy, + Is sweetness to the angry bee, + The angry bee must busy be, + Ere sweet of sweetness hiveth he. +</pre> + <p> + The arch thrill of his daughter’s voice tickled Gottlieb. ‘That’s it, + birdie! You and the proverb are right. I don’t know which is best, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Better hive + And keep alive + Than vengeance wake + With that you take.’ +</pre> + <p> + A clatter in the cathedral square brought Gottlieb on his legs to the + window. It was a company of horsemen sparkling in harness. One trumpeter + rode at the side of the troop, and in front a standard-bearer, matted down + the chest with ochre beard, displayed aloft to the good citizens of + Cologne, three brown hawks, with birds in their beaks, on an azure + stardotted field. + </p> + <p> + ‘Holy Cross!’ exclaimed Gottlieb, low in his throat; ‘the arms of Werner! + Where got he money to mount his men? Why, this is daring all Cologne in + our very teeth! ‘Fend that he visit me now! Ruin smokes in that ruffian’s + track. I ‘ve felt hot and cold by turns all day.’ + </p> + <p> + The horsemen came jingling carelessly along the street in scattered twos + and threes, laughing together, and singling out the maidens at the + gable-shadowed windows with hawking eyes. The good citizens of Cologne did + not look on them favourably. Some showed their backs and gruffly banged + their doors: others scowled and pocketed their fists: not a few slunk into + the side alleys like well-licked curs, and scurried off with forebent + knees. They were in truth ferocious-looking fellows these trusty servants + of the robber Baron Werner, of Werner’s Eck, behind Andernach. Leather, + steel, and dust, clad them from head to foot; big and black as bears; + wolf-eyed, fox-nosed. They glistened bravely in the falling beams of the + sun, and Margarita thrust her fair braided yellow head a little forward + over her father’s shoulder to catch the whole length of the grim + cavalcade. One of the troop was not long in discerning the young beauty. + He pointed her boldly out to a comrade, who approved his appetite, and + referred her to a third. The rest followed lead, and Margarita was as one + spell-struck when she became aware that all those hungry eyes were preying + on hers. Old Gottlieb was too full of his own fears to think for her, and + when he drew in his head rather suddenly, it was with a dismal foreboding + that Werner’s destination in Cologne was direct to the house of Gottlieb + Groschen, for purposes only too well to be divined. + </p> + <p> + ‘Devil’s breeches!’ muttered Gottlieb; ‘look again, Grete, and see if that + hell-troop stop the way outside.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita’s cheeks were overflowing with the offended rose. + </p> + <p> + ‘I will not look at them again, father.’ + </p> + <p> + Gottlieb stared, and then patted her. + </p> + <p> + ‘I would I were a man, father!’ + </p> + <p> + Gottlieb smiled, and stroked his beard. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! how I burn!’ + </p> + <p> + And the girl shivered visibly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Grete! mind to be as much of a woman as you can, and soon such raff as + this you may sweep away, like cobwebs, and no harm done.’ + </p> + <p> + He was startled by a violent thumping at the streetdoor, and as brazen a + blast as if the dead were being summoned. Aunt Lisbeth entered, and + flitted duskily round the room, crying: + </p> + <p> + ‘We are lost: they are upon us! better death with a bodkin! Never shall it + be said of me; never! the monsters!’ + </p> + <p> + Then admonishing them to lock, bar, bolt, and block up every room in the + house, Aunt Lisbeth perched herself on the edge of a chair, and reversed + the habits of the screech-owl, by being silent when stationary. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s nothing to fear for you, Lisbeth,’ said Gottlieb, with + discourteous emphasis. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gottlieb! do you remember what happened at the siege of Mainz? and poor + Marthe Herbstblum, who had hoped to die as she was; and Dame Altknopfchen, + and Frau Kaltblut, and the old baker, Hans Topf’s sister, all of them as + holy as abbesses, and that did not save them! and nothing will from such + godless devourers.’ + </p> + <p> + Gottlieb was gone, having often before heard mention of the calamity + experienced by these fated women. + </p> + <p> + ‘Comfort thee, good heart, on my breast,’ said Margarita, taking Lisbeth + to that sweet nest of peace and fortitude. + </p> + <p> + ‘Margarita! ‘tis your doing! have I not said—lure them not, for they + swarm too early upon us! And here they are! and, perhaps, in five minutes + all will be over! + </p> + <p> + Herr Je!—What, you are laughing! Heavens of goodness, the girl is + delighted!’ + </p> + <p> + Here a mocking ha-ha! accompanied by a thundering snack at the door, shook + the whole house, and again the trumpet burst the ears with fury. + </p> + <p> + This summons, which seemed to Aunt Lisbeth final, wrought a strange + composure in her countenance. She was very pale, but spread her dress + decently, as if fear had departed, and clasped her hands on her knees. + </p> + <p> + ‘The will of the Lord above must be done,’ said she; ‘it is impious to + complain when we are given into the hand of the Philistines. Others have + been martyred, and were yet acceptable.’ + </p> + <p> + To this heroic speech she added, with cold energy: ‘Let them come!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Aunt,’ cried Margarita, ‘I hear my father’s voice with those men. Aunty! + I will not let him be alone. I must go down to him. You will be safe here. + I shall come to you if there’s cause for alarm.’ + </p> + <p> + And in spite of Aunt Lisbeth’s astonished shriek of remonstrance, she + hurried off to rejoin Gottlieb. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WAGER + </h2> + <p> + Ere Margarita had reached the landing of the stairs, she repented her + haste and shrank back. Wrapt in a thunder of oaths, she distinguished: + ‘‘Tis the little maiden we want; let’s salute her and begone! or cap your + skull with something thicker than you’ve on it now, if you want a whole + one, happy father!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Gottlieb von Groschen I am,’ answered her father, ‘and the Kaiser——’ + </p> + <p> + ‘‘S as fond of a pretty girl as we are! Down with her, and no more + drivelling! It’s only for a moment, old Measure and Scales!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I tell you, rascals, I know your master, and if you’re not punished for + this, may I die a beggar!’ exclaimed Gottlieb, jumping with rage. + </p> + <p> + ‘May you die as rich as an abbot! And so you will, if you don’t bring her + down, for I’ve sworn to see her; there ‘s the end of it, man!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll see, too, if the laws allow this villany!’ cried Gottlieb. + ‘Insulting a peaceful citizen! in his own house! a friend of your emperor! + Gottlieb von Groschen!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Groschen? We’re cousins, then! You wouldn’t shut out your nearest kin? + Devil’s lightning! Don’t you know me? Pfennig? Von Pfennig! This here’s + Heller: that’s Zwanziger: all of us Vons, every soul! You’re not decided? + This’ll sharpen you, my jolly King Paunch!’ + </p> + <p> + And Margarita heard the ruffian step as if to get swing for a blow. She + hurried into the passage, and slipping in front of her father, said to his + assailant: + </p> + <p> + ‘You have asked for me! I am here!’ + </p> + <p> + Her face was colourless, and her voice seemed to issue from between a + tightened cord. She stood with her left foot a little in advance, and her + whole body heaving and quivering: her arms folded and pressed hard below + her bosom: her eyes dilated to a strong blue: her mouth ashy white. A + strange lustre, as of suppressed internal fire, flickered over her. + </p> + <p> + ‘My name ‘s Schwartz Thier, and so ‘s my nature!’ said the fellow with a + grin; ‘but may I never smack lips with a pretty girl again, if I harm such + a young beauty as this! Friendly dealing’s my plan o’ life.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Clear out of my house, then, fellow, and here’s money for you,’ said + Gottlieb, displaying a wrathfully-trembling handful of coin. + </p> + <p> + ‘Pish! money! forty times that wouldn’t cover my bet! And if it did? + Shouldn’t I be disgraced? jeered at for a sheep-heart? No, I’m no ninny, + and not to be diddled. I’ll talk to the young lady! Silence, out there! + all’s going proper’: this to his comrades through the door. ‘So, my + beautiful maiden! thus it stands: We saw you at the window, looking like a + fresh rose with a gold crown on. Here are we poor fellows come to welcome + the Kaiser. I began to glorify you. “Schwartz Thier!” says Henker Rothhals + to me, “I’ll wager you odds you don’t have a kiss of that fine girl within + twenty minutes, counting from the hand-smack!” Done! was my word, and we + clapped our fists together. Now, you see, that’s straightforward! All I + want is, not to lose my money and be made a fool of—leaving alone + that sugary mouth which makes mine water’; and he drew the back of his + hand along his stubbled jaws: ‘So, come! don’t hesitate! no harm to you, + my beauty, but a compliment, and Schwartz Thier’s your friend and anything + else you like for ever after. Come, time’s up, pretty well.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita leaned to her father a moment as if mortal sickness had seized + her. Then cramping her hands and feet, she said in his ear, ‘Leave me to + my own care; go, get the men to protect thee’; and ordered Schwartz Thier + to open the door wide. + </p> + <p> + Seeing Gottlieb would not leave her, she joined her hands, and begged him. + ‘The good God will protect me! I will overmatch these men. Look, my + father! they dare not strike me in the street: you they would fell without + pity. Go! what they dare in a house, they dare not in the street.’ + </p> + <p> + Schwartz Thier had opened the door. At sight of Margarita, the troop gave + a shout. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now! on the doorstep, full in view, my beauteous one! that they may see + what a lucky devil I am—and have no doubts about the handing over.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita looked behind. Gottlieb was still there, every member of him + quaking like a bog under a heavy heel. She ran to him. ‘My father! I have + a device wilt thou spoil it, and give me to this beast? You can do + nothing, nothing! protect yourself and save me!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Cologne! broad day!’ muttered Gottlieb, as if the enormity had prostrated + his belief in facts; and moved slowly back. + </p> + <p> + Margarita strode to the door-step. Schwartz Thier was awaiting her, his + arm circled out, and his leering face ducked to a level with his victim’s. + This rough show of gallantry proved costly to him. As he was gently + closing his iron hold about her, enjoying before hand with grim + mouthridges the flatteries of triumph, Margarita shot past him through the + door, and was already twenty paces beyond the troop before either of them + thought of pursuing her. At the first sound of a hoof, Henker Rothhals + seized the rider’s bridle-rein, and roared: ‘Fair play for a fair bet! + leave all to the Thier!’ The Thier, when he had recovered from his + amazement, sought for old Gottlieb to give him a back-hit, as Margarita + foresaw that he would. Not finding him at hand, out lumbered the fellow as + swiftly as his harness would allow, and caught a glimpse of Margarita + rapidly fleeting up the cathedral square. + </p> + <p> + ‘Only five minutes, Schwartz Thier!’ some of the troop sung out. + </p> + <p> + ‘The devil can do his business in one,’ was the retort, and Schwartz Thier + swung himself on his broad-backed charger, and gored the fine beast till + she rattled out a blast of sparkles from the flint. + </p> + <p> + In a minute he drew up in front of Margarita. + </p> + <p> + ‘So! you prefer settling this business in the square. + </p> + <p> + Good! my choice sweetheart!’ and he sprang to her side. + </p> + <p> + The act of flight had touched the young girl’s heart with the spirit of + flight. She crouched like a winded hare under the nose of the hound, and + covered her face with her two hands. Margarita was no wisp in weight, but + Schwartz Thier had her aloft in his arm as easily as if he had tossed up a + kerchief. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look all, and witness!’ he shouted, lifting the other arm. + </p> + <p> + Henker Rothhals and the rest of the troop looked, as they came trotting to + the scene, with the coolness of umpires: but they witnessed something + other than what Schwartz Thier proposed. This was the sight of a + formidable staff, whirling an unfriendly halo over the head of the Thier, + and descending on it with such honest intent to confound and overthrow + him, that the Thier succumbed to its force without argument, and the + square echoed blow and fall simultaneously. At the same time the wielder + of this sound piece of logic seized Margarita, and raised a shout in the + square for all true men to stand by him in rescuing a maiden from the + clutch of brigands and ravishers. A crowd was collecting, but seemed to + consider the circle now formed by the horsemen as in a manner charmed, for + only one, a fair slender youth, came forward and ranged himself beside the + stranger. + </p> + <p> + ‘Take thou the maiden: I’ll keep to the staff,’ said this latter, + stumbling over his speech as if he was in a foreign land among old roots + and wolfpits which had already shaken out a few of his teeth, and made him + cautious about the remainder. + </p> + <p> + ‘Can it be Margarita!’ exclaimed the youth, bending to her, and calling to + her: ‘Margarita! Fraulein Groschen!’ + </p> + <p> + She opened her eyes, shuddered, and said: ‘I was not afraid! Am I safe?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Safe while I have life, and this good friend.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Where is my father?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have not seen him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And you—who are you? Do I owe this to you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! no! no! Me you owe nothing.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita gazed hurriedly round, and at her feet there lay the Thier with + his steel-cap shining in dints, and three rivulets of blood coursing down + his mottled forehead. She looked again at the youth, and a blush of + recognition gave life to her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + ‘I did not know you. Pardon me. Farina! what thanks can reward such + courage! Tell me! shall we go?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The youth eyed her an instant, but recovering himself, took a rapid + survey, and called to the stranger to follow and help give the young + maiden safe conduct home. + </p> + <p> + ‘Just then Henker Rothhals bellowed, ‘Time’s up!’ He was answered by a + chorus of agreement from the troop. They had hitherto patiently acted + their parts as spectators, immovable on their horses. The assault on the + Thier was all in the play, and a visible interference of fortune in favour + of Henker Rothhals. Now general commotion shuttled them, and the + stranger’s keen hazel eyes read their intentions rightly when he lifted + his redoubtable staff in preparation for another mighty swoop, this time + defensive. Rothhals, and half a dozen others, with a war-cry of curses, + spurred their steeds at once to ride him down. They had not reckoned the + length and good-will of their antagonist’s weapon. Scarce were they in + motion, when round it whizzed, grazing the nostrils of their horses with a + precision that argued practice in the feat, and unhorsing two, Rothhals + among the number. He dropped heavily on his head, and showed signs of + being as incapable of combat as the Thier. A cheer burst from the crowd, + but fell short. + </p> + <p> + The foremost of their number was struck flat to the earth by a fellow of + the troop. + </p> + <p> + Calling on St. George, his patron saint, the stranger began systematically + to make a clear ring in his path forward. Several of the horsemen essayed + a cut at his arm with their long double-handed swords, but the horses + could not be brought a second time to the edge of the magic circle; and + the blood of these warriors being thoroughly up, they now came at him on + foot. In their rage they would have made short work with the three, in + spite of the magistracy of Cologne, had they not been arrested by cries of + ‘Werner! Werner!’ + </p> + <p> + At the South-west end of the square, looking Rhinewards, rode the marauder + Baron, in full armour, helm and hauberk, with a single retainer in his + rear. He had apparently caught sight of the brawl, and, either because he + distinguished his own men, or was seeking his natural element, hastened up + for his share in it, which was usually that of the king of beasts. His + first call was for Schwartz Thier. The men made way, and he beheld his man + in no condition to make military responses. He shouted for Henker + Rothhals, and again the men opened their ranks mutely, exhibiting the two + stretched out in diverse directions, with their feet slanting to a common + point. The Baron glared; then caught off his mailed glove, and thrust it + between his teeth. A rasping gurgle of oaths was all they heard, and + presently surged up, + </p> + <p> + ‘Who was it?’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita’s eyes were shut. She opened them fascinated with horror. There + was an unearthly awful and comic mixture of sounds in Werner’s querulous + fury, that was like the noise of a complaining bear, rolling up from + hollow-chested menace to yawning lament. Never in her life had Margarita + such a shock of fear. The half gasp of a laugh broke on her trembling + lips. She stared at Werner, and was falling; but Farina’s arm clung + instantly round her waist. The stranger caught up her laugh, loud and + hearty. + </p> + <p> + ‘As for who did it, Sir Baron,’ he cried, is a cheery tone, ‘I am the man! + As you may like to know why—and that’s due to you and me both of us—all + I can say is, the Black Muzzle yonder lying got his settler for + merry-making with this peaceful maiden here, without her consent—an + offence in my green island they reckon a crack o’ the sconce light basting + for, I warrant all company present,’ and he nodded sharply about. ‘As for + the other there, who looks as if a rope had been round his neck once and + shirked its duty, he counts his wages for helping the devil in his + business, as will any other lad here who likes to come on and try.’ + </p> + <p> + Werner himself, probably, would have given him the work he wanted; but his + eye had sidled a moment over Margarita, and the hardly-suppressed applause + of the crowd at the stranger’s speech failed to bring his ire into action + this solitary time. + </p> + <p> + ‘Who is the maiden?’ he asked aloud. + </p> + <p> + ‘Fraulein von Groschen,’ replied Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘Von Groschen! Von Groschen! the daughter of Gottlieb Groschen?—Rascals!’ + roared the Baron, turning on his men, and out poured a mud-spring of + filthy oaths and threats, which caused Henker Rothhals, who had opened his + eyes, to close them again, as if he had already gone to the place of heat. + </p> + <p> + ‘Only lend me thy staff, friend,’ cried Werner. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not I! thwack ‘em with your own wood,’ replied the stranger, and fell + back a leg. + </p> + <p> + Werner knotted his stringy brows, and seemed torn to pieces with the + different pulling tides of his wrath. He grasped the mane of his horse and + flung abroad handfuls, till the splendid animal reared in agony. + </p> + <p> + ‘You shall none of you live over this night, villains! I ‘ll hang you, + every hag’s son! My last orders were,—Keep quiet in the city, ye + devil’s brood. Take that! and that!’ laying at them with his bare sword. + ‘Off with you, and carry these two pigs out of sight quickly, or I’ll have + their heads, and make sure o’ them.’ + </p> + <p> + The latter injunction sprang from policy, for at the head of the chief + street there was a glitter of the city guard, marching with shouldered + spears. + </p> + <p> + ‘Maiden,’ said Werner, with a bull’s bow, ‘let me conduct thee to thy + father.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita did not reply; but gave her hand to Farina, and took a step + closer to the stranger. + </p> + <p> + Werner’s brows grew black. + </p> + <p> + ‘Enough to have saved you, fair maid,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘Gratitude + never was a woman’s gift. Say to your father that I shall make excuses to + him for the conduct of my men.’ + </p> + <p> + Whereupon, casting a look of leisurely scorn toward the guard coming up in + the last beams of day, the Baron shrugged his huge shoulders to an + altitude expressing the various contemptuous shades of feudal coxcombry, + stuck one leather-ruffled arm in his side, and jolted off at an easy pace. + </p> + <p> + ‘Amen!’ ejaculated the stranger, leaning on his staff. ‘There are Barons + in my old land; but never a brute beast in harness.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita stood before him, and took his two hands. + </p> + <p> + ‘You will come with me to my father! He will thank you. I cannot. You will + come?’ + </p> + <p> + Tears and a sob of relief started from her. + </p> + <p> + The city guard, on seeing Werner’s redoubtable back turned, had adopted + double time, and now came panting up, while the stranger bent smiling + under a fresh overflow of innocent caresses. Margarita was caught to her + father’s breast. + </p> + <p> + ‘You shall have vengeance for this, sweet chuck,’ cried old Gottlieb in + the intervals of his hugs. + </p> + <p> + ‘Fear not, my father; they are punished’: and Margarita related the story + of the stranger’s prowess, elevating him into a second Siegfried. The + guard huzzaed him, but did not pursue the Baron. + </p> + <p> + Old Gottlieb, without hesitation, saluted the astonished champion with a + kiss on either cheek. + </p> + <p> + ‘My best friend! You have saved my daughter from indignity! Come with us + home, if you can believe that a home where the wolves come daring us, + dragging our dear ones from our very doorsteps. Come, that we may thank + you under a roof at least. My little daughter! Is she not a brave lass?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She’s nothing less than the white rose of Germany,’ said the stranger, + with a good bend of the shoulders to Margarita. + </p> + <p> + ‘So she’s called,’ exclaimed Gottlieb; ‘she ‘s worthy to be a man!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Men would be the losers, then, more than they could afford,’ replied the + stranger, with a ringing laugh. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come, good friend,’ said Gottlieb; ‘you must need refreshment. Prove you + are a true hero by your appetite. As Charles the Great said to Archbishop + Turpin, “I conquered the world because Nature gave me a gizzard; for + everywhere the badge of subjection is a poor stomach.” Come, all! A day + well ended, notwithstanding!’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SILVER ARROW + </h2> + <p> + At the threshold of Gottlieb’s house a number of the chief burgesses of + Cologne had corporated spontaneously to condole with him. As he came near, + they raised a hubbub of gratulation. Strong were the expressions of + abhorrence and disgust of Werner’s troop in which these excellent citizens + clothed their outraged feelings; for the insult to Gottlieb was the insult + of all. The Rhinestream taxes were provoking enough to endure; but that + the licence of these free-booting bands should extend to the homes of free + and peaceful men, loyal subjects of the Emperor, was a sign that the evil + had reached from pricks to pokes, as the saying went, and must now be met + as became burgesses of ancient Cologne, and by joint action destroyed. + </p> + <p> + ‘In! in, all of you!’ said Gottlieb, broadening his smile to suit the + many. ‘We ‘ll talk about that in-doors. Meantime, I’ve got a hero to + introduce to you: flesh and blood! no old woman’s coin and young girl’s + dream-o’day: the honest thing, and a rarity, my masters. All that over + some good Rhine-juice from above Bacharach. In, and welcome, friends!’ + </p> + <p> + Gottlieb drew the stranger along with him under the carved old oak-wood + portals, and the rest paired, and reverentially entered in his wake. + Margarita, to make up for this want of courtesy, formed herself the last + of the procession. She may have had another motive, for she took occasion + there to whisper something to Farina, bringing sun and cloud over his + countenance in rapid flushes. He seemed to remonstrate in dumb show; but + she, with an attitude of silence, signified her wish to seal the + conversation, and he drooped again. On the door step she paused a moment, + and hung her head pensively, as if moved by a reminiscence. The youth had + hurried away some strides. Margarita looked after him. His arms were + straightened to his flanks, his hands clenched, and straining out from the + wrist. He had the aspect of one tugging against the restraint of a chain + that suddenly let out link by link to his whole force. + </p> + <p> + ‘Farina!’ she called; and wound him back with a run. ‘Farina! You do not + think me ungrateful? I could not tell my father in the crowd what you did + for me. He shall know. He will thank you. He does not understand you now, + Farina. He will. Look not so sorrowful. So much I would say to you.’ + </p> + <p> + So much was rushing on her mind, that her maidenly heart became unruly, + and warned her to beware. + </p> + <p> + The youth stood as if listening to a nightingale of the old woods, after + the first sweet stress of her voice was in his ear. When she ceased, he + gazed into her eyes. They were no longer deep and calm like forest lakes; + the tender-glowing blue quivered, as with a spark of the young girl’s + soul, in the beams of the moon then rising. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Margarita!’ said the youth, in tones that sank to sighs: ‘what am I + to win your thanks, though it were my life for such a boon!’ + </p> + <p> + He took her hand, and she did not withdraw it. Twice his lips dwelt upon + those pure fingers. + </p> + <p> + ‘Margarita: you forgive me: I have been so long without hope. I have + kissed your hand, dearest of God’s angels!’ + </p> + <p> + She gently restrained the full white hand in his pressure. + </p> + <p> + ‘Margarita! I have thought never before death to have had this sacred + bliss. I am guerdoned in advance for every grief coming before death.’ + </p> + <p> + She dropped on him one look of a confiding softness that was to the youth + like the opened gate of the innocent garden of her heart. + </p> + <p> + ‘You pardon me, Margarita? I may call you my beloved? strive, wait, pray, + hope, for you, my star of life?’ + </p> + <p> + Her face was so sweet a charity! + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear love! one word!—or say nothing, but remain, and move not. So + beautiful you are! Oh, might I kneel to you here; dote on you; worship + this white hand for ever.’ + </p> + <p> + The colour had passed out of her cheeks like a blissful western red + leaving rich paleness in the sky; and with her clear brows levelled at + him, her bosom lifting more and more rapidly, she struggled against the + charm that was on her, and at last released her hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘I must go. I cannot stay. Pardon you? Who might not be proud of your + love!—Farewell!’ + </p> + <p> + She turned to move away, but lingered a step from him, hastily touching + her bosom and either hand, as if to feel for a brooch or a ring. Then she + blushed, drew the silver arrow from the gathered gold-shot braids above + her neck, held it out to him, and was gone. + </p> + <p> + Farina clutched the treasure, and reeled into the street. Half a dozen + neighbours were grouped by the door. + </p> + <p> + ‘What ‘s the matter in Master Groschen’s house now?’ one asked, as he + plunged into the midst of them. + </p> + <p> + ‘Matter?’ quoth the joy-drunken youth, catching at the word, and mused off + into raptures; ‘There never was such happiness! ‘Tis paradise within, + exile without. But what exile! A star ever in the heavens to lighten the + road and cheer the path of the banished one’; and he loosened his vest and + hugged the cold shaft on his breast. + </p> + <p> + ‘What are you talking and capering at, fellow?’ exclaimed another: ‘Can’t + you answer about those shrieks, like a Christian, you that have just come + out of the house? Why, there’s shrieking now! It ‘s a woman. Thousand + thunders! it sounds like the Frau Lisbeth’s voice. What can be happening + to her?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps she’s on fire,’ was coolly suggested between two or three. + </p> + <p> + ‘Pity to see the old house burnt,’ remarked one. + </p> + <p> + ‘House! The woman, man! the woman!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ replied the other, an ancient inhabitant of Cologne, shaking his + head, ‘the house is oldest!’ + </p> + <p> + Farina, now recovering his senses, heard shrieks that he recognized as + possible in the case of Aunt Lisbeth dreading the wickedness of an + opposing sex, and alarmed by the inrush of old Gottlieb’s numerous guests. + To confirm him, she soon appeared, and hung herself halfway out of one of + the upper windows, calling desperately to St. Ursula for aid. He thanked + the old lady in his heart for giving him a pretext to enter Paradise + again; but before even love could speed him, Frau Lisbeth was seized and + dragged remorselessly out of sight, and he and the rosy room darkened + together. + </p> + <p> + Farina twice strode off to the Rhine-stream; as many times he returned. It + was hard to be away from her. It was harder to be near and not close. His + heart flamed into jealousy of the stranger. Everything threatened to + overturn his slight but lofty structure of bliss so suddenly shot into the + heavens. He had but to remember that his hand was on the silver arrow, and + a radiance broke upon his countenance, and a calm fell upon his breast. + ‘It was a plight of her troth to me,’ mused the youth. ‘She loves me! She + would not trust her frank heart to speak. Oh, generous young girl! what am + I to dare hope for such a prize? for I never can be worthy. And she is one + who, giving her heart, gives it all. Do I not know her? How lovely she + looked thanking the stranger! The blue of her eyes, the warm-lighted blue, + seemed to grow full on the closing lids, like heaven’s gratitude. Her + beauty is wonderful. What wonder, then, if he loves her? I should think + him a squire in his degree. There are squires of high birth and low.’ + </p> + <p> + So mused Farina with his arms folded and his legs crossed in the shadow of + Margarita’s chamber. Gradually he fell into a kind of hazy doze. The + houses became branded with silver arrows. All up the Cathedral stone was a + glitter, and dance, and quiver of them. In the sky mazed confusion of + arrowy flights and falls. Farina beheld himself in the service of the + Emperor watching these signs, and expecting on the morrow to win glory and + a name for Margarita. Glory and the name now won, old Gottlieb was just on + the point of paternally blessing them, when a rude pat aroused him from + the delicious moon-dream. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hero by day! house-guard by night! That tells a tale,’ said a cheerful + voice. + </p> + <p> + The moon was shining down the Cathedral square and street, and Farina saw + the stranger standing solid and ruddy before him. He was at first prompted + to resent such familiar handling, but the stranger’s face was of that + bland honest nature which, like the sun, wins everywhere back a reflection + of its own kindliness. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are right,’ replied Farina; ‘so it is!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Pretty wines inside there, and a rare young maiden. She has a throat like + a nightingale, and more ballads at command than a piper’s wallet. Now, if + I hadn’t a wife at home.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re married?’ cried Farina, seizing the stranger’s hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘Surely; and my lass can say something for herself on the score of brave + looks, as well as the best of your German maids here, trust me.’ + </p> + <p> + Farina repressed an inclination to perform a few of those antics which + violent joy excites, and after rushing away and back, determined to give + his secret to the stranger. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look,’ said he in a whisper, that opens the private doors of a + confidence. + </p> + <p> + But the stranger repeated the same word still more earnestly, and brought + Farina’s eyes on a couple of dark figures moving under the Cathedral. + </p> + <p> + ‘Some lamb’s at stake when the wolves are prowling,’ he added: ‘‘Tis now + two hours to the midnight. I doubt if our day’s work be over till we hear + the chime, friend.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What interest do you take in the people of this house that you watch over + them thus?’ asked Farina. + </p> + <p> + The stranger muffled a laugh in his beard. + </p> + <p> + ‘An odd question, good sooth. Why, in the first place, we like well whatso + we have done good work for. That goes for something. In the second, I’ve + broken bread in this house. Put down that in the reckoning. In the third; + well! in the third, add up all together, and the sum total’s at your + service, young sir.’ + </p> + <p> + Farina marked him closely. There was not a spot on his face for guile to + lurk in, or suspicion to fasten on. He caught the stranger’s hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘You called me friend just now. Make me your friend. Look, I was going to + say: I love this maiden! I would die for her. I have loved her long. This + night she has given me a witness that my love is not vain. I am poor. She + is rich. I am poor, I said, and feel richer than the Kaiser with this she + has given me! Look, it is what our German girls slide in their back-hair, + this silver arrow!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A very pretty piece of heathenish wear!’ exclaimed the stranger. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then, I was going to say—tell me, friend, of a way to win honour + and wealth quickly; I care not at how rare a risk. Only to wealth, or high + baronry, will her father give her!’ + </p> + <p> + The stranger buzzed on his moustache in a pause of cool pity, such as + elders assume when young men talk of conquering the world for their + mistresses: and in truth it is a calm of mind well won! + </p> + <p> + ‘Things look so brisk at home here in the matter of the maiden, that I + should say, wait a while and watch your chance. But you’re a boy of pluck: + I serve in the Kaiser’s army, under my lord: the Kaiser will be here in + three days. If you ‘re of that mind then, I doubt little you may get + posted well: but, look again! there’s a ripe brew yonder. Marry, you may + win your spurs this night even; who knows?—‘S life! there’s a tall + fellow joining those two lurkers.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can you see into the murk shadow, Sir Squire?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay! thanks to your Styrian dungeons, where I passed a year’s + apprenticeship: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I learnt to watch the rats and mice + At play, with never a candle-end. + They play’d so well; they sang so nice; + They dubb’d me comrade; called me friend!” + </pre> + <p> + So says the ballad of our red-beard king’s captivity. All evil has a good: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “When our toes and chins are up, + Poison plants make sweetest cup” + </pre> + <p> + as the old wives mumble to us when we’re sick. Heigho! would I were in the + little island well home again, though that were just their song of welcome + to me, as I am a Christian.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Tell me your name, friend,’ said Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘Guy’s my name, young man: Goshawk’s my title. Guy the Goshawk! so they + called me in my merry land. The cap sticks when it no longer fits. Then I + drove the arrow, and was down on my enemy ere he could ruffle a feather. + Now, what would be my nickname? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “A change so sad, and a change so bad, + Might set both Christian and heathen a sighing: + Change is a curse, for it’s all for the worse: + Age creeps up, and youth is flying!” + </pre> + <p> + and so on, with the old song. But here am I, and yonder’s a game that + wants harrying; so we’ll just begin to nose about them a bit.’ + </p> + <p> + He crossed to the other side of the street, and Farina followed out of the + moonlight. The two figures and the taller one were evidently observing + them; for they also changed their position and passed behind an angle of + the Cathedral. + </p> + <p> + ‘Tell me how the streets cross all round the Cathedral you know the city,’ + said the stranger, holding out his hand. + </p> + <p> + Farina traced with his finger a rough map of the streets on the stranger’s + hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good! that’s how my lord always marks the battlefield, and makes me show + him the enemy’s posts. Forward, this way!’ + </p> + <p> + He turned from the Cathedral, and both slid along close under the eaves + and front hangings of the houses. Neither spoke. Farina felt that he was + in the hands of a skilful captain, and only regretted the want of a weapon + to make harvest of the intended surprise; for he judged clearly that those + were fellows of Werner’s band on the look-out. They wound down numberless + intersections of narrow streets with irregular-built houses standing or + leaning wry-faced in row, here a quaint-beamed cottage, there almost a + mansion with gilt arms, brackets, and devices. Oil-lamps unlit hung at + intervals by the corners, near a pale Christ on crucifix. Across the + passages they hung alight. The passages and alleys were too dusky and + close for the moon in her brightest ardour to penetrate; down the streets + a slender lane of white beams could steal: ‘In all conscience,’ as the + good citizens of Cologne declared, ‘enough for those heathen hounds and + sons of the sinful who are abroad when God’s own blessed lamp is out.’ So, + when there was a moon, the expense of oil was saved to the Cologne + treasury, thereby satisfying the virtuous. + </p> + <p> + After incessant doubling here and there, listening to footfalls, and + themselves eluding a chase which their suspicious movements aroused, they + came upon the Rhine. A full flood of moonlight burnished the knightly + river in glittering scales, and plates, and rings, as headlong it rolled + seaward on from under crag and banner of old chivalry and rapine. Both + greeted the scene with a burst of pleasure. The grey mist of flats on the + south side glimmered delightful to their sight, coming from that drowsy + crowd and press of habitations; but the solemn glory of the river, + delaying not, heedless, impassioned-pouring on in some sublime conference + between it and heaven to the great marriage of waters, deeply shook + Farina’s enamoured heart. The youth could not restrain his tears, as if a + magic wand had touched him. He trembled with love; and that delicate bliss + which maiden hope first showers upon us like a silver rain when she has + taken the shape of some young beauty and plighted us her fair fleeting + hand, tenderly embraced him. + </p> + <p> + As they were emerging into the spaces of the moon, a cheer from the + stranger arrested Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘Seest thou? on the wharf there! that is the very one, the tallest of the + three. Lakin! but we shall have him.’ + </p> + <p> + Wrapt in a long cloak, with low pointed cap and feather, stood the person + indicated. He appeared to be meditating on the flow of the water, unaware + of hostile presences, or quite regardless of them. There was a majesty in + his height and air, which made the advance of the two upon him more wary + and respectful than their first impulse had counselled. They could not + read his features, which were mantled behind voluminous folds: all save a + pair of very strange eyes, that, even as they gazed directly downward, + seemed charged with restless fiery liquid. + </p> + <p> + The two were close behind him: Guy the Goshawk prepared for one of those + fatal pounces on the foe that had won him his title. He consulted Farina + mutely, who Nodded readiness; but the instant after, a cry of anguish + escaped from the youth: + </p> + <p> + ‘Lost! gone! lost! Where is it? where! the arrow! The Silver Arrow! My + Margarita!’ + </p> + <p> + Ere the echoes of his voice had ceased lamenting into the distance, they + found themselves alone on the wharf. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LILIES OF THE VALLEY + </h2> + <h3> + ‘He opened like a bat!’ said the stranger. + </h3> + <p> + ‘His shadow was red!’ said Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘He was off like an arrow!’ said the stranger. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! pledge of my young love, how could I lose thee!’ exclaimed the youth, + and his eyes were misted with tears. + </p> + <p> + Guy the Goshawk shook his brown locks gravely. + </p> + <p> + ‘Bring me a man, and I ‘ll stand up against him, whoever he be, like a + man; but this fellow has an ill scent and foreign ways about him, that he + has! His eye boils all down my backbone and tingles at my finger-tips. + Jesu, save us!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Save us!’ repeated Farina, with the echo of a deadened soul. + </p> + <p> + They made the sign of the Cross, and purified the place with holy + ejaculations. + </p> + <p> + ‘I ‘ve seen him at last; grant it be for the last time! That’s my prayer, + in the name of the Virgin and Trinity,’ said Guy. ‘And now let’s retrace + our steps: perchance we shall hunt up that bauble of yours, but I’m not + fit for mortal work this night longer.’ + </p> + <p> + Burdened by their black encounter, the two passed again behind the + Cathedral. Farina’s hungry glances devoured each footmark of their track. + Where the moon held no lantern for him, he went on his knees, and groped + for his lost treasure with a miser’s eager patience of agony, drawing his + hand slowly over the stony kerb and between the interstices of the + thick-sown flints, like an acute-feeling worm. Despair grew heavy in his + breast. At every turning he invoked some good new saint to aid him, and + ran over all the propitiations his fancy could suggest and his religious + lore inspire. By-and-by they reached the head of the street where + Margarita dwelt. The moon was dipping down, and paler, as if touched with + a warning of dawn. Chill sighs from the open land passed through the + spaces of the city. On certain coloured gables and wood-crossed fronts, + the white light lingered; but mostly the houses were veiled in dusk, and + Gottlieb’s house was confused in the twilight with those of his + neighbours, notwithstanding its greater stateliness and the old grandeur + of its timbered bulk. They determined to take up their position there + again, and paced on, Farina with his head below his shoulders, and Guy + nostril in air, as if uneasy in his sense of smell. + </p> + <p> + On the window-ledge of a fair-fitted domicile stood a flower-pot, a rude + earthen construction in the form of a river-barge, wherein grew some + valley lilies that drooped their white bells over the sides. + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk eyed them wistfully. + </p> + <p> + ‘I must smell those blessed flowers if I wish to be saved!’ and he stamped + resolve with his staff. + </p> + <p> + Moved by this exclamation, Farina gazed up at them. + </p> + <p> + ‘How like a company of maidens they look floating in the vessel of life!’ + he said. + </p> + <p> + Guy curiously inspected Farina and the flower-pot, shrugged, and with his + comrade’s aid, mounted to a level with it, seized the prize and + redescended. + </p> + <p> + ‘There,’ he cried, between long luxurious sniffs, ‘that chases him out of + the nostril sooner than aught else, the breath of a fresh lass-like + flower! I was tormented till now by the reek of the damned rising from + under me. This is heaven’s own incense, I think!’ + </p> + <p> + And Guy inhaled the flowers and spake prettily to them. + </p> + <p> + ‘They have a melancholy sweetness, friend,’ said Farina. ‘I think of + whispering Fays, and Elf, and Erl, when their odour steals through me. Do + not you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nay, nor hope to till my wits are clean gone,’ was the Goshawk’s reply. + ‘To my mind, ‘tis an honest flower, and could I do good service by the + young maiden who there set it, I should be rendering back good service + done; for if that flower has not battled the devil in my nose this night, + and beaten him, my head’s a medlar!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I scarce know whether as a devout Christian I should listen to that, + friend,’ Farina mildly remonstrated. ‘Lilies are indeed emblems of the + saints; but then they are not poor flowers of earth, being transfigured, + lustrous unfadingly. Oh, Cross and Passion! with what silver serenity thy + glory enwraps me, gazing on these fair bells! I look on the white sea of + the saints. I am enamoured of fleshly anguish and martyrdom. All beauty is + that worn by wan-smiling faces wherein Hope sits as a crown on Sorrow, and + the pale ebb of mortal life is the twilight of joy everlasting. Colourless + peace! Oh, my beloved! So walkest thou for my soul on the white sea ever + at night, clad in the straight fall of thy spotless virgin linen; bearing + in thy hand the lily, and leaning thy cheek to it, where the human rose is + softened to a milky bloom of red, the espousals of heaven with earth; over + thee, moving with thee, a wreath of sapphire stars, and the solitude of + purity around!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ sighed the Goshawk, dandling his flower-pot; ‘the moon gives strokes + as well’s the sun. I’ faith, moon-struck and maid-struck in one! He’ll be + asking for his head soon. This dash of the monk and the minstrel is a sure + sign. That ‘s their way of loving in this land: they all go mad, straight + off. I never heard such talk.’ + </p> + <p> + Guy accompanied these remarks with a pitiful glance at his companion. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come, Sir Lover! lend me a help to give back what we’ve borrowed to its + rightful owner. ‘S blood! but I feel an appetite. This night-air takes me + in the wind like a battering ram. I thought I had laid in a stout + four-and-twenty hours’ stock of Westphalian Wurst at Master Groschen’s + supper-table. Good stuff, washed down with superior Rhine wine; say your + Liebfrauenmilch for my taste; though, when I first tried it, I grimaced + like a Merry-Andrew, and remembered roast beef and Glo’ster ale in my + prayers.’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk was in the act of replacing the pot of lilies, when a blow + from a short truncheon, skilfully flung, struck him on the neck and + brought him to the ground. With him fell the lilies. He glared to the + right and left, and grasped the broken flower-pot for a return missile; + but no enemy was in view to test his accuracy of aim. + </p> + <p> + The deep-arched doorways showed their empty recesses the windows slept. + </p> + <p> + ‘Has that youth played me false?’ thought the discomfited squire, as he + leaned quietly on his arm. Farina was nowhere near. + </p> + <p> + Guy was quickly reassured. + </p> + <p> + ‘By my fay, now! that’s a fine thing! and a fine fellow! and a fleet foot! + That lad ‘ll rise! He’ll be a squire some day. Look at him. Bowels of + a’Becket! ‘tis a sight! I’d rather see that, now, than old Groschen ‘s + supper-table groaning with Wurst again, and running a river of + Rudesheimer! Tussle on! I’ll lend a hand if there’s occasion; but you + shall have the honour, boy, an you can win it.’ + </p> + <p> + This crying on of the hound was called forth by a chase up the street, in + which the Goshawk beheld Farina pursue and capture a stalwart runaway, who + refused with all his might to be brought back, striving every two and + three of his tiptoe steps to turn against the impulse Farina had got on + his neck and nether garments. + </p> + <p> + ‘Who ‘d have thought the lad was so wiry and mettlesome, with his soft + face, blue eyes, and lank locks? but a green mead has more in it than many + a black mountain. Hail, and well done! if I could dub you knight, I would: + trust me!’ and he shook Farina by the hand. + </p> + <p> + Farina modestly stood aside, and allowed the Goshawk to confront his + prisoner. + </p> + <p> + ‘So, Sir Shy-i’the-dark! gallant Stick-i’the-back! Squire Truncheon, and + Knight of the noble order of Quicksilver Legs! just take your stand at the + distance you were off me when you discharged this instrument at my head. + By ‘r lady! I smart a scratch to pay you in coin, and it’s lucky for you + the coin is small, or you might reckon on it the same, trust me. Now, + back!’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk lunged out with the truncheon, but the prisoner displayed no + hesitation in complying, and fell back about a space of fifteen yards. + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose he guesses I’ve never done the stupid trick before,’ mused Guy, + ‘or he would not be so sharp.’ Observing that Farina had also fallen back + in a line as guard, Guy motioned him to edge off to the right more, + bawling, ‘Never mind why!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now,’ thought Guy, ‘if I were sure of notching him, I’d do the speech + part first; but as I’m not—throwing truncheons being no honourable + profession anywhere—I’ll reserve that. The rascal don’t quail. We’ll + see how long he stands firm.’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk cleared his wrist, fixed his eye, and swung the truncheon + meditatively to and fro by one end. He then launched off the shoulder a + mighty down-fling, calmly, watching it strike the prisoner to earth, like + an ox under the hammer. + </p> + <p> + ‘A hit!’ said he, and smoothed his wrist. + </p> + <p> + Farina knelt by the body, and lifted the head on his breast. ‘Berthold! + Berthold!’ he cried; ‘no further harm shall hap to you, man! Speak!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You ken the scapegrace?’ said Guy, sauntering up. + </p> + <p> + ‘‘Tis Berthold Schmidt, son of old Schmidt, the great goldsmith of + Cologne.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘St. Dunstan was not at his elbow this time!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A rival of mine,’ whispered Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oho!’ and the Goshawk wound a low hiss at his tongue’s tip. ‘Well! as I + should have spoken if his ears had been open: Justice struck the blow; and + a gentle one. This comes of taking a flying shot, and not standing up + fair. And that seems all that can be said. Where lives he?’ + </p> + <p> + Farina pointed to the house of the Lilies. + </p> + <p> + ‘Beshrew me! the dog has some right on his side. Whew! yonder he lives? He + took us for some night-prowlers. Why not come up fairly, and ask my + business? + </p> + <p> + Smelling a flower is not worth a broken neck, nor defending your premises + quite deserving a hole in the pate. Now, my lad, you see what comes of + dealing with cut and run blows; and let this be a warning to you.’ + </p> + <p> + They took the body by head and feet, and laid him at the door of his + father’s house. Here the colour came to his cheek, and they wiped off the + streaks of blood that stained him. Guy proved he could be tender with a + fallen foe, and Farina with an ill-fated rival. It was who could suggest + the soundest remedies, or easiest postures. One lent a kerchief and nursed + him; another ran to the city fountain and fetched him water. Meantime the + moon had dropped, and morning, grey and beamless, looked on the + house-peaks and along the streets with steadier eye. They now both + discerned a body of men, far down, fronting Gottlieb’s house, and drawn up + in some degree of order. All their charity forsook them at once. + </p> + <p> + ‘Possess thyself of the truncheon,’ said Guy: ‘You see it can damage. More + work before breakfast, and a fine account I must give of myself to my + hostess of the Three Holy Kings!’ + </p> + <p> + Farina recovered the destructive little instrument. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am ready,’ said he. ‘But hark! there’s little work for us there, I + fancy. Those be lads of Cologne, no grunters of the wild. ‘Tis the White + Rose Club. Always too late for service.’ + </p> + <p> + Voices singing a hunting glee, popular in that age, swelled up the clear + morning air; and gradually the words became distinct. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The Kaiser went a-hunting, + A-hunting, tra-ra: + With his bugle-horn at springing morn, + The Kaiser trampled bud and thorn: + Tra-ra! + + And the dew shakes green as the horsemen rear, + And a thousand feathers they flutter with fear; + And a pang drives quick to the heart of the deer; + For the Kaiser’s out a-hunting, + Tra-ra! + Ta, ta, ta, ta, + Tra-ra, tra-ra, + Ta-ta, tra-ra, tra-ra! +</pre> + <p> + the owner of the truncheon awoke to these reviving tones, and uttered a + faint responsive ‘Tra-ra!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hark again!’ said Farina, in reply to the commendation of the Goshawk, + whose face was dimpled over with the harmony. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The wild boar lay a-grunting, + A-grunting, tra-ra! + And, boom! comes the Kaiser to hunt up me? + Or, queak! the small birdie that hops on the tree? + Tra-ra! + O birdie, and boar, and deer, lie tame! + For a maiden in bloom, or a full-blown dame, + Are the daintiest prey, and the windingest game, + When Kaisers go a-hunting, + Tra-ra! + Ha, ha, ha, ha, + Tra-ra, tra-ra, + Ha-ha, tra-ra, tra-ra! +</pre> + <p> + The voices held long on the last note, and let it die in a forest cadence. + </p> + <p> + ‘‘Fore Gad! well done. Hurrah! Tra-ra, ha-ha, tra-ra! That’s a trick we’re + not half alive to at home,’ said Guy. ‘I feel friendly with these German + lads.’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk’s disposition toward German lads was that moment harshly + tested by a smart rap on the shoulder from an end of German oak, and a + proclamation that he was prisoner of the hand that gave the greeting, in + the name of the White Rose Club. Following that, his staff was wrested + from him by a dozen stout young fellows, who gave him no time to get his + famous distance for defence against numbers; and he and Farina were + marched forthwith to the chorusing body in front of Gottlieb Groschen’s + house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MISSIVES + </h2> + <p> + Of all the inmates, Gottlieb had slept most with the day on his eyelids, + for Werner hung like a nightmare over him. Margarita lay and dreamed in + rose-colour, and if she thrilled on her pillowed silken couch like a + tense-strung harp, and fretted drowsily in little leaps and starts, it was + that a bird lay in her bosom, panting and singing through the night, and + that he was not to be stilled, but would musically utter the sweetest + secret thoughts of a love-bewitched maiden. Farina’s devotion she knew his + tenderness she divined: his courage she had that day witnessed. The young + girl no sooner felt that she could love worthily, than she loved with her + whole strength. Muffed and remote came the hunting-song under her pillow, + and awoke dreamy delicate curves in her fair face, as it thinned but did + not banish her dream. Aunt Lisbeth also heard the song, and burst out of + her bed to see that the door and window were secured against the wanton + Kaiser. Despite her trials, she had taken her spell of sleep; but being + possessed of some mystic maiden belief that in cases of apprehended peril + from man, bed was a rock of refuge and fortified defence, she crept back + there, and allowed the sun to rise without her. Gottlieb’s voice could not + awaken her to the household duties she loved to perform with such a + doleful visage. She heard him open his window, and parley in angry tones + with the musicians below. + </p> + <p> + ‘Decoys!’ muttered Aunt Lisbeth; ‘be thou alive to them, Gottlieb!’ + </p> + <p> + He went downstairs and opened the street door, whereupon the scolding and + railing commenced anew. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thou hast given them vantage, Gottlieb, brother mine,’ she complained; + ‘and the good heavens only can say what may result from such + indiscreetness.’ + </p> + <p> + A silence, combustible with shuffling of feet in the passage and on the + stairs, dinned horrors into Aunt Lisbeth’s head. + </p> + <p> + ‘It was just that sound in the left wing of Hollenbogenblitz,’ she said: + ‘only then it was night and not morning. Ursula preserve me!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, Lisbeth! Lisbeth!’ cried Gottlieb from below. ‘Come down! ‘tis full + five o’ the morning. Here’s company; and what are we to do without the + woman?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, Gottlieb! that is like men! They do not consider how different it is + for us!’ which mysterious sentence being uttered to herself alone, enjoyed + a meaning it would elsewhere have been denied. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lisbeth dressed, and met Margarita descending. They exchanged the + good-morning of young maiden and old. + </p> + <p> + ‘Go thou first,’ said Aunt Lisbeth. + </p> + <p> + Margarita gaily tripped ahead. + </p> + <p> + ‘Girl!’ cried Aunt Lisbeth, ‘what’s that thing in thy back hair?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have borrowed Lieschen’s arrow, aunt. Mine has had an accident.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Lieschen’s arrow! An accident! Now I will see to that after breakfast, + Margarita.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Tra-ra, ta-ta, tra-ra, tra-ra,’ sang Margarita. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘The wild boar lay a-grunting, + A-grunting, tra-ra.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘A maiden’s true and proper ornament! Look at mine, child! I have worn it + fifty years. May I deserve to wear it till I am called! O Margarita! + trifle not with that symbol.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘“O birdie, and boar, and deer, lie tame!” + </pre> + <p> + I am so happy, aunty.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nice times to be happy in, Margarita.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Be happy in Spring, sweet maidens all, + For Autumn’s chill will early fall.” + </pre> + <p> + So sings the Minnesinger, aunty; and + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘“A maiden in the wintry leaf + Will spread her own disease of grief.” + </pre> + <p> + I love the Minnesingers! Dear, sweet-mannered men they are! Such lovers! + And men of deeds as well as song: sword on one side and harp on the other. + They fight till set of sun, and then slacken their armour to waft a ballad + to their beloved by moonlight, covered with stains of battle as they are, + and weary!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What a girl! Minnesingers! Yes; I know stories of those Minnesingers. + They came to the castle—Margarita, a bead of thy cross is broken. I + will attend to it. Wear the pearl one till I mend this. May’st thou never + fall in the way of Minnesingers. They are not like Werner’s troop. They do + not batter at doors: they slide into the house like snakes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Lisbeth! Lisbeth!’ they heard Gottlieb calling impatiently. + </p> + <p> + ‘We come, Gottlieb!’ and in a low murmur Margarita heard her say: ‘May + this day pass without trouble and shame to the pious and the chaste.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita knew the voice of the stranger before she had opened the door, + and on presenting herself, the hero gave her a guardian-like salute. + </p> + <p> + ‘One may see,’ he said, ‘that it requires better men than those of Werner + to drive away the rose from that cheek.’ + </p> + <p> + Gottlieb pressed the rosy cheek to his shoulder and patted her. + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you think, Grete? You have now forty of the best lads in Cologne + enrolled to protect you, and keep guard over the house night and day. + There! What more could a Pfalzgrafin ask, now? And voluntary service; all + to be paid with a smile, which I daresay my lady won’t refuse them. + Lisbeth, you know our friend. Fear him not, good Lisbeth, and give us + breakfast. Well, sweet chuck, you’re to have royal honours paid you. I + warrant they’ve begun good work already in locking up that idle moony + vagabond, Farina—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Him? What for, my father? How dared they! What has he done?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, start not, my fairy maid! A small matter of breakage, pet! He tried to + enter Cunigonde Schmidt’s chamber, and knocked down her pot of lilies: for + which Berthold Schmidt knocked him down, and our friend here, out of good + fellowship, knocked down Berthold. However, the chief offender is marched + off to prison by your trusty guard, and there let him cool himself. + Berthold shall tell you the tale himself: he’ll be here to breakfast, and + receive your orders, mistress commander-in-chief.’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk had his eye on Margarita. Her teeth were tight down on her + nether lip, and her whole figure had a strange look of awkwardness, she + was so divided with anger. + </p> + <p> + ‘As witness of the affair, I think I shall make a clearer statement, fair + maiden,’ he interposed. ‘In the first place, I am the offender. We passed + under the window of the Fraulein Schmidt, and ‘twas I mounted to greet the + lilies. One shoot of them is in my helm, and here let me present them to a + worthier holder.’ + </p> + <p> + He offered the flowers with a smile, and Margarita took them, radiant with + gratitude. + </p> + <p> + ‘Our friend Berthold,’ he continued, ‘thought proper to aim a blow at me + behind my back, and then ran for his comrades. He was caught, and by my + gallant young hero, Farina; concerning whose character I regret that your + respected father and I differ: for, on the faith of a soldier and true + man, he’s the finest among the fine fellows I’ve yet met in Germany, trust + me. So, to cut the story short, execution was done upon Berthold by my + hand, for an act of treachery. He appears to be a sort of captain of one + of the troops, and not affectionately disposed to Farina; for the version + of the affair you have heard from your father is a little invention of + Master Berthold’s own. To do him justice, he seemed equally willing to get + me under the cold stone; but a word from your good father changed the + current; and as I thought I could serve our friend better free than behind + bars, I accepted liberty. Pshaw! I should have accepted it any way, to + tell the truth, for your German dungeons are mortal shivering ratty + places. So rank me no hero, fair Mistress Margarita, though the temptation + to seem one in such sweet eyes was beginning to lead me astray. And now, + as to our business in the streets at this hour, believe the best of us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I will! I do!’ said Margarita. + </p> + <p> + ‘Lisbeth! Lisbeth!’ called Gottlieb. ‘Breakfast, little sister! our + champion is starving. He asks for wurst, milk-loaves, wine, and all thy + rarest conserves. Haste, then, for the honour of Cologne is at stake.’ + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lisbeth jingled her keys in and out, and soon that harmony drew a + number of domestics with platters of swine flesh, rolls of white wheaten + bread, the perpetual worst, milk, wine, barley-bread, and household stores + of dainties in profusion, all sparkling on silver, relieved by spotless + white cloth. Gottlieb beheld such a sunny twinkle across the Goshawk’s + face at this hospitable array, that he gave the word of onset without + waiting for Berthold, and his guest immediately fell to, and did not relax + in his exertions for a full half-hour by the Cathedral clock, eschewing + the beer with a wry look made up of scorn and ruefulness, and drinking a + well-brimmed health in Rhine wine all round. Margarita was pensive: Aunt + Lisbeth on her guard. Gottlieb remembered Charles the Great’s counsel to + Archbishop Turpin, and did his best to remain on earth one of its lords + dominant. + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor Berthold!’ said he. ‘‘Tis a good lad, and deserves his seat at my + table oftener. I suppose the flower-pot business has detained him. We’ll + drink to him: eh, Grete?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Drink to him, dear father!—but here he is to thank you in person.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita felt a twinge of pity as Berthold entered. The livid stains of + his bruise deepened about his eyes, and gave them a wicked light whenever + they were fixed intently; but they looked earnest; and spoke of a combat + in which he could say that he proved no coward and was used with some + cruelty. She turned on the Goshawk a mute reproach; yet smiled and loved + him well when she beheld him stretch a hand of welcome and proffer a + brotherly glass to Berthold. The rich goldsmith’s son was occupied in + studying the horoscope of his fortunes in Margarita’s eyes; but when + Margarita directed his attention to Guy, he turned to him with a glance of + astonishment that yielded to cordial greeting. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well done, Berthold, my brave boy! All are friends who sit at table,’ + said Gottlieb. ‘In any case, at my table: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Tis a worthy foe + Forgives the blow + Was dealt him full and fairly,” + </pre> + <p> + says the song; and the proverb takes it up with, “A generous enemy is a + friend on the wrong side”; and no one’s to blame for that, save old Dame + Fortune. So now a bumper to this jovial make-up between you. Lisbeth! you + must drink it.’ + </p> + <p> + The little woman bowed melancholy obedience. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why did you fling and run?’ whispered Guy to Berthold. + </p> + <p> + ‘Because you were two against one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Two against one, man! Why, have you no such thing as fair play in this + land of yours? Did you think I should have taken advantage of that?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How could I tell who you were, or what you would do?’ muttered Berthold, + somewhat sullenly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Truly no, friend! So you ran to make yourself twenty to two? But don’t be + down on the subject. I was going to say, that though I treated you in a + manner upright, ‘twas perhaps a trifle severe, considering your youth: but + an example’s everything; and I must let you know in confidence, that no + rascal truncheon had I flung in my life before; so, you see, I gave you + all the chances.’ + </p> + <p> + Berthold moved his lips in reply; but thinking of the figure of defeat he + was exhibiting before Margarita, caused him to estimate unfavourably what + chances had stood in his favour. + </p> + <p> + The health was drunk. Aunt Lisbeth touched the smoky yellow glass with a + mincing lip, and beckoned Margarita to withdraw. + </p> + <p> + ‘The tapestry, child!’ she said. ‘Dangerous things are uttered after the + third glass, I know, Margarita.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you call my champion handsome, aunt?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I was going to speak to you about him, Margarita. If I remember, he has + rough, good looks, as far as they go. Yes: but thou, maiden, art thou + thinking of him? I have thrice watched him wink; and that, as we know, is + a habit of them that have sold themselves. And what is frail womankind to + expect from such a brawny animal?’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘And oh! to lace his armour up, + And speed him to the field; + To pledge him in a kissing-cup, + The knight that will not yield! +</pre> + <p> + I am sure he is tender, aunt. Notice how gentle he looks now and then.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Thou girl! Yes, I believe she is madly in love with him. Tender, and + gentle! So is the bear when you’re outside his den; but enter it, maiden, + and try! Thou good Ursula, preserve me from such a fate.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fear not, dear aunt! Have not a fear of it! Besides, it is not always the + men that are bad. You must not forget Dalilah, and Lot’s wife, and + Pfalzgrafin Jutta, and the Baroness who asked for a piece of poor Kraut. + But, let us work, let us work!’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita sat down before Siegfried, and contemplated the hero. For the + first time, she marked a resemblance in his features to Farina: the same + long yellow hair scattered over his shoulders as that flowing from under + Siegfried’s helm; the blue eyes, square brows, and regular outlines. ‘This + is a marvel,’ thought Margarita. ‘And Farina! it was to watch over me that + he roamed the street last night, my best one! Is he not beautiful?’ and + she looked closer at Siegfried. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lisbeth had begun upon the dragon with her usual method, and was soon + wandering through skeleton halls of the old palatial castle in Bohemia. + The woolly tongue of the monster suggested fresh horrors to her, and if + Margarita had listened, she might have had fair excuses to forget her + lover’s condition; but her voice only did service like a piece of + clock-work, and her mind was in the prison with Farina. She was long + debating how to win his release; and meditated so deeply, and exclaimed in + so many bursts of impatience, that Aunt Lisbeth found her heart melting to + the maiden. ‘Now,’ said she, ‘that is a well-known story about the + Electress Dowager of Bavaria, when she came on a visit to the castle; and, + my dear child, be it a warning. Terrible, too!’ and the little woman + shivered pleasantly. ‘She had—I may tell you this, Margarita—yes, + she had been false to her wedded husband.—You understand, maiden; + or, no! you do not understand: I understand it only partly, mind. False, I + say——’ + </p> + <p> + ‘False—not true: go on, dear aunty,’ said Margarita, catching the + word. + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe she knows as much as I do!’ ejaculated Aunt Lisbeth; ‘such are + girls nowadays. When I was young-oh! for a maiden to know anything then—oh! + it was general reprobation. No one thought of confessing it. We blushed + and held down our eyes at the very idea. Well, the Electress! she was—you + must guess. So she called for her caudle at eleven o’clock at night. What + do you think that was? Well, there was spirit in it: not to say nutmeg, + and lemon, and peach kernels. She wanted me to sit with her, but I begged + my mistress to keep me from the naughty woman: and no friend of Hilda of + Bayern was Bertha of Bohmen, you may be sure. Oh! the things she talked + while she was drinking her caudle. + </p> + <p> + Isentrude sat with her, and said it was fearful!—beyond blasphemy! + and that she looked like a Bible witch, sitting up drinking and swearing + and glaring in her nightclothes and nightcap. She was on a journey into + Hungary, and claimed the hospitality of the castle on her way there. Both + were widows. Well, it was a quarter to twelve. The Electress dropped back + on her pillow, as she always did when she had finished the candle. + Isentrude covered her over, heaped up logs on the fire, wrapped her + dressing-gown about her, and prepared to sleep. It was Winter, and the + wind howled at the doors, and rattled the windows, and shook the arras—Lord + help us! Outside was all snow, and nothing but forest; as you saw when you + came to me there, Gretelchen. Twelve struck. Isentrude was dozing; but she + says that after the last stroke she woke with cold. A foggy chill hung in + the room. She looked at the Electress, who had not moved. The fire burned + feebly, and seemed weighed upon: Herr Je!—she thought she heard a + noise. No. Quite quiet! As heaven preserve her, says slip, the smell in + that room grew like an open grave, clammily putrid. Holy Virgin! This time + she was certain she heard a noise; but it seemed on both sides of her. + There was the great door leading to the first landing and state-room; and + opposite exactly there was the panel of the secret passage. The noises + seemed to advance as if step by step, and grew louder in each ear as she + stood horrified on the marble of the hearth. She looked at the Electress + again, and her eyes were wide open; but for all Isentrude’s calling, she + would not wake. Only think! Now the noise increased, and was a regular + tramp-grate, tramp-screw sound-coming nearer and nearer: Saints of mercy! + The apartment was choking with vapours. Isentrude made a dart, and robed + herself behind a curtain of the bed just as the two doors opened. She + could see through a slit in the woven work, and winked her eyes which she + had shut close on hearing the scream of the door-hinges—winked her + eyes to catch a sight for moment—we are such sinful, curious + creatures!—What she saw then, she says she shall never forget; nor + I! As she was a living woman, there she saw the two dead princes, the + Prince Palatine of Bohemia and the Elector of Bavaria, standing front to + front at the foot of the bed, all in white armour, with drawn swords, and + attendants holding pine-torches. Neither of them spoke. Their vizors were + down; but she knew them by their arms and bearing: both tall, stately + presences, good knights in their day, and had fought against the Infidel! + So one of them pointed to the bed, and then a torch was lowered, and the + fight commenced. Isentrude saw the sparks fly, and the steel struck till + it was shattered; but they fought on, not caring for wounds, and snorting + with fury as they grew hotter. They fought a whole hour. The poor girl was + so eaten up with looking on, that she let go the curtain and stood quite + exposed among them. So, to steady herself, she rested her hand on the + bed-side; and—think what she felt—a hand as cold as ice locked + hers, and get from it she could not! That instant one of the princes fell. + It was Bohmen. Bayern sheathed his sword, and waved his hand, and the + attendants took up the slaughtered ghost, feet and shoulders, and bore him + to the door of the secret passage, while Bayern strode after—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Shameful!’ exclaimed Margarita. ‘I will speak to Berthold as he descends. + I hear him coming. He shall do what I wish.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Call it dreadful, Grete! Dreadful it was. If Berthold would like to sit + and hear—Ah! she is gone. A good girl! and of a levity only on the + surface.’ + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lisbeth heard Margarita’s voice rapidly addressing Berthold. His + reply was low and brief. ‘Refuses to listen to anything of the sort,’ Aunt + Lisbeth interpreted it. Then he seemed to be pleading, and Margarita + uttering short answers. ‘I trust ‘tis nothing a maiden should not hear,’ + the little lady exclaimed with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + The door opened, and Lieschen stood at the entrance. + </p> + <p> + ‘For Fraulein Margarita,’ she said, holding a letter halfway out. + </p> + <p> + ‘Give it,’ Aunt Lisbeth commanded. + </p> + <p> + The woman hesitated—‘‘Tis for the Fraulein.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Give it, I tell thee!’ and Aunt Lisbeth eagerly seized the missive, and + subjected it to the ordeal of touch. It was heavy, and contained something + hard. Long pensive pressures revealed its shape on the paper. It was an + arrow. ‘Go!’ said she to the woman, and, once alone, began, bee-like, to + buzz all over it, and finally entered. It contained Margarita’s Silver + Arrow. ‘The art of that girl!’ And the writing said: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘SWEETEST MAIDEN! + + ‘By this arrow of our betrothal, I conjure thee to meet me in all + haste without the western gate, where, burning to reveal to thee + most urgent tidings that may not be confided to paper, now waits, + petitioning the saints, thy + + ‘FARINA.’ +</pre> + <p> + Aunt Lisbeth placed letter and arrow in a drawer; locked it; and ‘always + thought so.’ She ascended the stairs to consult with Gottlieb. Roars of + laughter greeted her just as she lifted the latch, and she retreated + abashed. + </p> + <p> + There was no time to lose. Farina must be caught in the act of waiting for + Margarita, and by Gottlieb, or herself. Gottlieb was revelling. ‘May this + be a warning to thee, Gottlieb,’ murmured Lisbeth, as she hooded her + little body in Margarita’s fur-cloak, and determined that she would be the + one to confound Farina. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later Margarita returned. Aunt Lisbeth was gone. The dragon + still lacked a tip to his forked tongue, and a stream of fiery threads + dangled from the jaws of the monster. Another letter was brought into the + room by Lieschen. + </p> + <p> + ‘For Aunt Lisbeth,’ said Margarita, reading the address. ‘Who can it be + from?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She does not stand pressing about your letters,’ said the woman; and + informed Margarita of the foregoing missive. + </p> + <p> + ‘You say she drew an arrow from it?’ said Margarita, with burning face. + ‘Who brought this? tell me!’ and just waiting to hear it was Farina’s + mother, she tore the letter open, and read: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘DEAREST LISBETH! + + ‘Thy old friend writes to thee; she that has scarce left eyes to see + the words she writes. Thou knowest we are a fallen house, through + the displeasure of the Emperor on my dead husband. My son, Farina, + is my only stay, and well returns to me the blessings I bestow upon + him. Some call him idle: some think him too wise. I swear to thee, + Lisbeth, he is only good. His hours are devoted to the extraction + of essences—to no black magic. Now he is in trouble-in prison. + The shadow that destroyed his dead father threatens him. Now, by + our old friendship, beloved Lisbeth! intercede with Gottlieb, that + he may plead for my son before the Emperor when he comes—’ +</pre> + <p> + Margarita read no more. She went to the window, and saw her guard + marshalled outside. She threw a kerchief over her head, and left the house + by the garden gate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MONK + </h2> + <p> + By this time the sun stood high over Cologne. The market-places were + crowded with buyers and sellers, mixed with a loitering swarm of soldiery, + for whose thirsty natures winestalls had been tumbled up. Barons and + knights of the empire, bravely mounted and thickly followed, poured hourly + into Cologne from South Germany and North. Here, staring Suabians, and + round-featured warriors of the East Kingdom, swaggered up and down, + patting what horses came across them, for lack of occupation for their + hands. Yonder, huge Pomeranians, with bosks of beard stiffened out square + from the chin, hurtled mountainous among the peaceable inhabitants. + Troopers dismounted went straddling, in tight hose and loose, prepared to + drink good-will to whomsoever would furnish the best quality liquor for + that solemn pledge, and equally ready to pick a quarrel with them that + would not. It was a scene of flaring feathers, wide-flapped bonnets, + flaunting hose, blue and battered steel plates, slashed woollen + haunch-bags, leather-leggings, ensigns, and imperious boots and shoulders. + Margarita was too hurried in her mind to be conscious of an imprudence; + but her limbs trembled, and she instinctively quickened her steps. When + she stood under the sign of the Three Holy Kings, where dwelt Farina’s + mother, she put up a fervent prayer of thanks, and breathed freely. + </p> + <p> + ‘I had expected a message from Lisbeth,’ said Frau Farina; ‘but thou, good + heart! thou wilt help us?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All that may be done by me I will do,’ replied Margarita; ‘but his mother + yearns to see him, and I have come to bear her company.’ + </p> + <p> + The old lady clasped her hands and wept. + </p> + <p> + ‘Has he found so good a friend, my poor boy! And trust me, dear maiden, he + is not unworthy, for better son never lived, and good son, good all! + Surely we will go to him, but not as thou art. I will dress thee. Such + throngs are in the streets: I heard them clattering in early this morning. + Rest, dear heart, till I return.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita had time to inspect the single sitting-room in which her lover + lived. It was planted with bottles, and vases, and pipes, and cylinders, + piling on floor, chair, and table. She could not suppress a slight + surprise of fear, for this display showed a dealing with hidden things, + and a summoning of scattered spirits. It was this that made his brow so + pale, and the round of his eye darker than youth should let it be! She + dismissed the feeling, and assumed her own bright face as Dame Farina + reappeared, bearing on her arm a convent garb, and other apparel. + Margarita suffered herself to be invested in the white and black robes of + the denial of life. + </p> + <p> + ‘There!’ said the Frau Farina, ‘and to seal assurance, I have engaged a + guard to accompany us. He was sorely bruised in a street combat yesterday, + and was billeted below, where I nursed and tended him, and he is grateful, + as man should be-though I did little, doing my utmost—and with him + near us we have nought to fear.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good,’ said Margarita, and they kissed and departed. The guard was + awaiting them outside. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come, my little lady, and with thee the holy sister! ‘Tis no step from + here, and I gage to bring ye safe, as sure as my name’s Schwartz Thier!—Hey? + The good sister’s dropping. Look, now! I’ll carry her.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita recovered her self-command before he could make good this offer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Only let us hasten there,’ she gasped. + </p> + <p> + The Thier strode on, and gave them safe-conduct to the prison where Farina + was confined, being near one of the outer forts of the city. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank and dismiss him,’ whispered Margarita. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nay! he will wait-wilt thou not, friend! We shall not be long, though it + is my son I visit here,’ said Frau Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘Till to-morrow morning, my little lady! The lion thanked him that plucked + the thorn from his foot, and the Thier may be black, but he’s not + ungrateful, nor a worse beast than the lion.’ + </p> + <p> + They entered the walls and left him. + </p> + <p> + For the first five minutes Schwartz Thier found employment for his + faculties by staring at the shaky, small-paned windows of the + neighbourhood. He persevered in this, after all novelty had been + exhausted, from an intuitive dread of weariness. There was nothing to see. + An old woman once bobbed out of an attic, and doused the flints with + water. Harassed by increasing dread of the foul nightmare of + nothing-to-do, the Thier endeavoured to establish amorous intelligence + with her. She responded with an indignant projection of the underjaw, + evanishing rapidly. There was no resource left him but to curse her with + extreme heartiness. The Thier stamped his right leg, and then his left, + and remembered the old woman as a grievance five minutes longer. When she + was clean forgotten, he yawned. Another spouse of the moment was wanted, + to be wooed, objurgated, and regretted. The prison-gate was in a secluded + street. Few passengers went by, and those who did edged away from the + ponderous, wanton-eyed figure of lazy mischief lounging there, as neatly + as they well could. The Thier hailed two or three. One took to his legs, + another bowed, smirked, gave him a kindly good-day, and affected to hear + no more, having urgent business in prospect. The Thier was a faithful dog, + but the temptation to betray his trust and pursue them was mighty. He + began to experience an equal disposition to cry and roar. He hummed a + ballad— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘I swore of her I’d have my will, + And with him I’d have my way: + I learn’d my cross-bow over the hill: + Now what does my lady say? +</pre> + <p> + Give me the good old cross-bow, after all, and none of these lumbering + puff-and-bangs that knock you down oftener than your man! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘A cross stands in the forest still, + And a cross in the churchyard grey: + My curse on him who had his will, + And on him who had his way! +</pre> + <p> + Good beginning, bad ending! ‘Tisn’t so always. “Many a cross has the + cross-bow built,” they say. I wish I had mine, now, to peg off that old + woman, or somebody. I’d swear she’s peeping at me over the gable, or + behind some cranny. They’re curious, the old women, curse ‘em! And the + young, for that matter. Devil a young one here. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘When I’m in for the sack of a town, + What, think ye, I poke after, up and down? + Silver and gold I pocket in plenty, + But the sweet tit-bit is my lass under twenty. +</pre> + <p> + I should like to be in for the sack of this Cologne. I’d nose out that + pretty girl I was cheated of yesterday. Take the gold and silver, and give + me the maiden! Her neck’s silver, and her hair gold. Ah! and her cheeks + roses, and her mouth-say no more! I’m half thinking Werner, the hungry + animal, has cast wolf’s eyes on her. They say he spoke of her last night. + Don’t let him thwart me. Thunderblast him! I owe him a grudge. He’s + beginning to forget my plan o’ life.’ + </p> + <p> + A flight of pigeons across the blue top of the street abstracted the Thier + from these reflections. He gaped after them in despair, and fell to + stretching and shaking himself, rattling his lungs with loud reports. As + he threw his eyes round again, they encountered those of a monk opposite + fastened on him in penetrating silence. The Thier hated monks as a wild + beast shuns fire; but now even a monk was welcome. + </p> + <p> + ‘Halloo!’ he sung out. + </p> + <p> + The monk crossed over to him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Friend!’ said he, ‘weariness is teaching thee wantonness. Wilt thou take + service for a night’s work, where the danger is little, the reward + lasting?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘As for that,’ replied the Thier, ‘danger comes to me like greenwood to + the deer, and good pay never yet was given in promises. But I’m bound for + the next hour to womankind within there. They’re my masters; as they’ve + been of tough fellows before me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I will seek them, and win their consent,’ said the monk, and so left him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Quick dealing!’ thought the Thier, and grew brisker. ‘The Baron won’t + want me to-night: and what if he does? Let him hang himself—though, + if he should, ‘twill be a pity I’m not by to help him.’ + </p> + <p> + He paced under the wall to its farthest course. Turning back, he perceived + the monk at the gateway. + </p> + <p> + ‘A sharp hand!’ thought the Thier. + </p> + <p> + ‘Intrude no question on me,’ the monk began; ‘but hold thy peace and + follow: the women release thee, and gladly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s not my plan o’ life, now! Money down, and then command me’: and + Schwartz Thier stood with one foot forward, and hand stretched out. + </p> + <p> + A curl of scorn darkened the cold features of the monk. + </p> + <p> + He slid one hand into a side of his frock above the girdle, and tossed a + bag of coin. + </p> + <p> + ‘Take it, if ‘tis in thee to forfeit the greater blessing,’ he cried + contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + The Thier peeped into the bag, and appeared satisfied. + </p> + <p> + ‘I follow,’ said he; ‘lead on, good father, and I’ll be in the track of + holiness for the first time since my mother was quit of me.’ + </p> + <p> + The monk hurried up the street and into the marketplace, oblivious of the + postures and reverences of the people, who stopped to stare at him and his + gaunt attendant. As they crossed the square, Schwartz Thier spied Henker + Rothhals starting from a wine-stall on horseback, and could not forbear + hailing him. Before the monk had time to utter a reproach, they were deep + together in a double-shot of query and reply. + </p> + <p> + ‘Whirr!’ cried the Thier, breaking on some communication. ‘Got her, have + they? and swung her across stream? I’m one with ye for my share, or call + me sheep!’ + </p> + <p> + He waved his hand to the monk, and taking hold of the horse’s rein, ran + off beside his mounted confederate, heavily shod as he was. + </p> + <p> + The monk frowned after him, and swelled with a hard sigh. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gone!’ he exclaimed, ‘and the accursed gold with him! Well did a voice + warn me that such service was never to be bought!’ + </p> + <p> + He did not pause to bewail or repent, but returned toward the prison with + rapid footsteps, muttering: ‘I with the prison-pass for two; why was I + beguiled by that bandit? Saw I not the very youth given into my hands + there, he that was with the damsel and the aged woman?’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE RIDE AND THE RACE + </h2> + <p> + Late in the noon a horseman, in the livery of the Kaiser’s body-guard, + rode dry and dusty into Cologne, with tidings that the Kaiser was at + Hammerstein Castle, and commanding all convocated knights, barons, counts, + and princes, to assemble and prepare for his coming, on a certain bare + space of ground within two leagues of Cologne, thence to swell the train + of his triumphal entry into the ancient city of his empire. + </p> + <p> + Guy the Goshawk, broad-set on a Flemish mare, and a pack-horse beside him, + shortly afterward left the hotel of the Three Holy Kings, and trotted up + to Gottlieb’s door. + </p> + <p> + ‘Tent-pitching is now my trade,’ said he, as Gottlieb came down to him. + ‘My lord is with the Kaiser. I must say farewell for the nonce. Is the + young lady visible?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nor young, nor old, good friend,’ replied Gottlieb, with a countenance + somewhat ruffled. ‘I dined alone for lack of your company. Secret missives + came, I hear, to each of them, and both are gadding. Now what think you of + this, after the scene of yesterday?—Lisbeth too!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Preaches from the old text, Master Groschen; “Never reckon on womankind + for a wise act.” But farewell! and tell Mistress Margarita that I take it + ill of her not giving me her maiden hand to salute before parting. My + gravest respects to Frau Lisbeth. I shall soon be sitting with you over + that prime vintage of yours, or fortune’s dead against me.’ + </p> + <p> + So, with a wring of the hand, Guy put the spur to his round-flanked beast, + and was quickly out of Cologne on the rough roadway. + </p> + <p> + He was neither the first nor the last of the men-at-arms hastening to obey + the Kaiser’s mandate. A string of horse and foot in serpentine knots + stretched along the flat land, flashing colours livelier than the + spring-meadows bordering their line of passage. Guy, with a nod for all, + and a greeting for the best-disposed, pushed on toward the van, till the + gathering block compelled him to adopt the snail’s pace of the advance + party, and gave him work enough to keep his two horses from being jammed + with the mass. Now and then he cast a weather-eye on the heavens, and was + soon confirmed in an opinion he had repeatedly ejaculated, that ‘the first + night’s camping would be a drencher.’ In the West a black bank of cloud + was blotting out the sun before his time. Northeast shone bare fields of + blue lightly touched with loosefloating strips and flakes of crimson + vapour. The furrows were growing purple-dark, and gradually a low moaning + obscurity enwrapped the whole line, and mufed the noise of hoof, oath, and + waggon-wheel in one sullen murmur. + </p> + <p> + Guy felt very much like a chopped worm, as he wriggled his way onward in + the dusk, impelled from the rear, and reduced to grope after the main + body. Frequent and deep counsel he took with a trusty flask suspended at + his belt. It was no pleasant reflection that the rain would be down before + he could build up anything like shelter for horse and man. Still sadder + the necessity of selecting his post on strange ground, and in darkness. He + kept an anxious look-out for the moon, and was presently rejoiced to + behold a broad fire that twinkled branchy beams through an east-hill + orchard. + </p> + <p> + ‘My lord calls her Goddess,’ said Guy, wistfully. ‘The title’s outlandish, + and more the style of these foreigners but she may have it to-night, an + she ‘ll just keep the storm from shrouding her bright eye a matter of two + hours.’ + </p> + <p> + She rose with a boding lustre. Drifts of thin pale upper-cloud leaned down + ladders, pure as virgin silver, for her to climb to her highest seat on + the unrebellious half-circle of heaven. + </p> + <p> + ‘My mind’s made up!’ quoth Guy to the listening part of himself. ‘Out of + this I’ll get.’ + </p> + <p> + By the clearer ray he had discerned a narrow track running a white + parallel with the general route. At the expense of dislocating a mile of + the cavalcade, he struck into it. A dyke had to be taken, some heavy + fallows crossed, and the way was straight before him. He began to sneer at + the slow jog-trot and absence of enterprise which made the fellows he had + left shine so poorly in comparison with the Goshawk, but a sight of two + cavaliers in advance checked his vanity, and now to overtake them he + tasked his fat Flemish mare with unwonted pricks of the heel, that made + her fling out and show more mettle than speed. + </p> + <p> + The objects of this fiery chase did not at first awake to a sense of being + pursued. Both rode with mantled visages, and appeared profoundly + inattentive to the world outside their meditations. But the Goshawk was + not to be denied, and by dint of alternately roaring at them and + upbraiding his two stumping beasts, he at last roused the younger of the + cavaliers, who called to his companion loudly: without effect it seemed, + for he had to repeat the warning. Guy was close up with them, when the + youth exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + ‘Father! holy father! ‘Tis Sathanas in person!’ + </p> + <p> + The other rose and pointed trembling to a dark point in the distance as he + vociferated: + </p> + <p> + ‘Not here! not here; but yonder!’ + </p> + <p> + Guy recognized the voice of the first speaker, and cried: + </p> + <p> + ‘Stay! halt a second! Have you forgotten the Goshawk?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Never!’ came the reply, ‘and forget not Farina!’ + </p> + <p> + Spur and fleeter steeds carried them out of hearing ere Guy could throw in + another syllable. Farina gazed back on him remorsefully, but the Monk now + rated his assistant with indignation. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thou weak one! nothing less than fool! to betray thy name on such an + adventure as this to soul save the saints!’ + </p> + <p> + Farina tossed back his locks, and held his forehead to the moon. All the + Monk’s ghostly wrath was foiled by the one little last sweet word of his + beloved, which made music in his ears whenever annoyance sounded. + </p> + <p> + ‘And herein,’ say the old writers, ‘are lovers, who love truly, truly + recompensed for their toils and pains; in that love, for which they + suffer, is ever present to ward away suffering not sprung of love: but the + disloyal, who serve not love faithfully, are a race given over to whatso + this base world can wreak upon them, without consolation or comfort of + their mistress, Love; whom sacrificing not all to, they know not to + delight in.’ + </p> + <p> + The soul of a lover lives through every member of him in the joy of a + moonlight ride. Sorrow and grief are slow distempers that crouch from the + breeze, and nourish their natures far from swift-moving things. A true + lover is not one of those melancholy flies that shoot and maze over muddy + stagnant pools. He must be up in the great air. He must strike all the + strings of life. Swiftness is his rapture. In his wide arms he embraces + the whole form of beauty. Eagle-like are his instincts; dove-like his + desires. Then the fair moon is the very presence of his betrothed in + heaven. So for hours rode Farina in a silver-fleeting glory; while the + Monk as a shadow, galloped stern and silent beside him. So, crowning them + in the sky, one half was all love and light; one, blackness and fell + purpose. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE COMBAT ON DRACHENFELS + </h2> + <p> + Not to earth was vouchsafed the honour of commencing the great battle of + that night. By an expiring blue-shot beam of moonlight, Farina beheld a + vast realm of gloom filling the hollow of the West, and the moon was soon + extinguished behind sluggish scraps of iron scud detached from the + swinging bulk of ruin, as heavily it ground on the atmosphere in the first + thunder-launch of motion. + </p> + <p> + The heart of the youth was strong, but he could not view without quicker + fawning throbs this manifestation of immeasurable power, which seemed as + if with a stroke it was capable of destroying creation and the works of + man. The bare aspect of the tempest lent terrors to the adventure he was + engaged in, and of which he knew not the aim, nor might forecast the + issue. Now there was nothing to illumine their path but such forked + flashes as lightning threw them at intervals, touching here a hill with + clustered cottages, striking into day there a May-blossom, a patch of + weed, a single tree by the wayside. Suddenly a more vivid and continuous + quiver of violet fire met its reflection on the landscape, and Farina saw + the Rhine-stream beneath him. + </p> + <p> + ‘On such a night,’ thought he, ‘Siegfried fought and slew the dragon!’ + </p> + <p> + A blast of light, as from the jaws of the defeated dragon in his throes, + made known to him the country he traversed. Crimsoned above the water + glimmered the monster-haunted rock itself, and mid-channel beyond, flat + and black to the stream, stretched the Nuns’ Isle in cloistral peace. + </p> + <p> + ‘Halt!’ cried the Monk, and signalled with a peculiar whistle, to which he + seemed breathlessly awaiting an answer. They were immediately surrounded + by longrobed veiled figures. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not too late?’ the Monk hoarsely asked of them. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yet an hour!’ was the reply, in soft clear tones of a woman’s voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘Great strength and valour more than human be mine,’ exclaimed the Monk, + dismounting. + </p> + <p> + He passed apart from them; and they drew in a circle, while he prayed, + kneeling. + </p> + <p> + Presently he returned, and led Farina to a bank, drawing from some + hiding-place a book and a bell, which he gave into the hands of the youth. + </p> + <p> + ‘For thy soul, no word!’ said the Monk, speaking down his throat as he + took in breath. ‘Nay! not in answer to me! Be faithful, and more than + earthly fortune is thine; for I say unto thee, I shall not fail, having + grace to sustain this combat.’ + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he commenced the ascent of Drachenfels. + </p> + <p> + Farina followed. He had no hint of the Monk’s mission, nor of the part + himself was to play in it. Such a load of silence gathered on his + questioning spirit, that the outcry of the rageing elements alone + prevented him from arresting the Monk and demanding the end of his service + there. That outcry was enough to freeze speech on the very lips of a + mortal. For scarce had they got footing on the winding path of the crags, + when the whole vengeance of the storm was hurled against the mountain. + Huge boulders were loosened and came bowling from above: trees torn by + their roots from the fissures whizzed on the eddies of the wind: torrents + of rain foamed down the iron flanks of rock, and flew off in hoar feathers + against the short pauses of darkness: the mountain heaved, and quaked, and + yawned a succession of hideous chasms. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s a devil in this,’ thought Farina. He looked back and marked the + river imaging lurid abysses of cloud above the mountain-summit—yea! + and on the summit a flaming shape was mirrored. + </p> + <p> + Two nervous hands stayed the cry on his mouth. + </p> + <p> + ‘Have I not warned thee?’ said the husky voice of the Monk. ‘I may well + watch, and think for thee as for a dog. Be thou as faithful!’ + </p> + <p> + He handed a flask to the youth, and bade him drink. Farina drank and felt + richly invigorated. The Monk then took bell and book. + </p> + <p> + ‘But half an hour,’ he muttered, ‘for this combat that is to ring through + centuries.’ + </p> + <p> + Crossing himself, he strode wildly upward. Farina saw him beckon back + once, and the next instant he was lost round an incline of the highest + peak. + </p> + <p> + The wind that had just screamed a thousand death-screams, was now awfully + dumb, albeit Farina could feel it lifting hood and hair. In the unnatural + stillness his ear received tones of a hymn chanted below; now sinking, now + swelling; as though the voices faltered between prayer and inspiration. + Farina caught on a projection of crag, and fixed his eyes on what was + passing on the height. + </p> + <p> + There was the Monk in his brown hood and wrapper, confronting—if he + might trust his balls of sight—the red-hot figure of the Prince of + Darkness. + </p> + <p> + As yet no mortal tussle had taken place between them. They were arguing: + angrily, it was true: yet with the first mutual deference of practised + logicians. Latin and German was alternately employed by both. It thrilled + Farina’s fervid love of fatherland to hear the German Satan spoke: but his + Latin was good, and his command over that tongue remarkable; for, getting + the worst of the argument, as usual, he revenged himself by parodying one + of the Church canticles with a point that discomposed his adversary, and + caused him to retreat a step, claiming support against such shrewd + assault. + </p> + <p> + ‘The use of an unexpected weapon in warfare is in itself half a victory. + Induce your antagonist to employ it as a match for you, and reckon on + completely routing him...’ says the old military chronicle. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come!’ said the Demon with easy raillery. ‘You know your game—I + mine! I really want the good people to be happy; dancing, kissing, + propagating, what you will. We quite agree. You can have no objection to + me, but a foolish old prejudice—not personal, but class; an + antipathy of the cowl, for which I pardon you! What I should find in you + to complain of—I have only to mention it, I am sure—is, that + perhaps you do speak a little too much through your nose.’ + </p> + <p> + The Monk did not fall into the jocular trap by retorting in the same + strain. + </p> + <p> + ‘Laugh with the Devil, and you won’t laugh longest,’ says the proverb. + </p> + <p> + Keeping to his own arms, the holy man frowned. + </p> + <p> + ‘Avaunt, Fiend!’ he cried. ‘To thy kingdom below! Thou halt raged over + earth a month, causing blights, hurricanes, and epidemics of the deadly + sins. Parley no more! Begone!’ + </p> + <p> + The Demon smiled: the corners of his mouth ran up to his ears, and his + eyes slid down almost into one. + </p> + <p> + ‘Still through the nose!’ said he reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + ‘I give thee Five Minutes!’ cried the Monk. + </p> + <p> + ‘I had hoped for a longer colloquy,’ sighed the Demon, jogging his left + leg and trifling with his tail. + </p> + <p> + ‘One Minute!’ exclaimed the Monk. + </p> + <p> + ‘Truly so!’ said the Demon. ‘I know old Time and his habits better than + you really can. We meet every Saturday night, and communicate our best + jokes. I keep a book of them Down There!’ + </p> + <p> + And as if he had reason to remember the pavement of his Halls, he stood + tiptoe and whipped up his legs. + </p> + <p> + ‘Two Minutes!’ + </p> + <p> + The Demon waved perfect acquiescence, and continued: + </p> + <p> + ‘We understand each other, he and I. All Old Ones do. As long as he lasts, + I shall. The thing that surprises me is, that you and I cannot agree, + similar as we are in temperament, and playing for the long odds, both of + us. My failure is, perhaps, too great a passion for sport, aha! Well, ‘tis + a pity you won’t try and live on the benevolent principle. I am indeed + kind to them who commiserate my condition. I give them all they want, aha! + Hem! Try and not believe in me now, aha! Ho!... Can’t you? What are eyes? + Persuade yourself you’re dreaming. You can do anything with a mind like + yours, Father Gregory! And consider the luxury of getting me out of the + way so easily, as many do. It is my finest suggestion, aha! Generally I + myself nudge their ribs with the capital idea—You’re above bribes? I + was going to observe—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Three!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Observe, that if you care for worldly honours, I can smother you with + that kind of thing. Several of your first-rate people made a bargain with + me when they were in the fog, and owe me a trifle. Patronage they call it. + I hook the high and the low. Too-little and too-much serve me better than + Beelzebub. A weak stomach is certainly more carnally virtuous than a full + one. Consequently my kingdom is becoming too respectable. They’ve all got + titles, and object to being asked to poke the fire without—Honourable-and-with-Exceeding-Brightness-Beaming + Baroness This! Admirably-Benignant-Down-looking Highness That! Interrupts + business, especially when you have to ask them to fry themselves, + according to the rules... Would you like Mainz and the Rheingau?... You + don’t care for Beauty—Puella, Puellae? I have plenty of them, too, + below. The Historical Beauties warmed up at a moment’s notice. Modern ones + made famous between morning and night—Fame is the sauce of Beauty. + Or, no—eh?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Four!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not quite so fast, if you please. You want me gone. Now, where’s your + charity? Do you ask me to be always raking up those poor devils + underneath? While I’m here, they’ve a respite. They cannot think you kind, + Father Gregory! As for the harm, you see, I’m not the more agreeable by + being face to face with you—though some fair dames do take to my + person monstrously. The secret is, the quantity of small talk I can + command: that makes them forget my smell, which is, I confess, abominable, + displeasing to myself, and my worst curse. Your sort, Father Gregory, are + somewhat unpleasant in that particular—if I may judge by their + Legate here. Well, try small talk. They would fall desperately in love + with polecats and skunks if endowed with small talk. Why, they have become + enamoured of monks before now! If skunks, why not monks? And again—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Five!’ + </p> + <p> + Having solemnly bellowed this tremendous number, the holy man lifted his + arms to begin the combat. + </p> + <p> + Farina felt his nerves prick with admiration of the ghostly warrior daring + the Second Power of Creation on that lonely mountain-top. He expected, and + shuddered at thought of the most awful fight ever yet chronicled of those + that have taken place between heroes and the hounds of evil: but his + astonishment was great to hear the Demon, while Bell was in air and Book + aloft, retreat, shouting, ‘Hold!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I surrender,’ said he sullenly. ‘What terms?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Instantaneous riddance of thee from face of earth.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good!—Now,’ said the Demon, ‘did you suppose I was to be trapped + into a fight? No doubt you wish to become a saint, and have everybody + talking of my last defeat.... Pictures, poems, processions, with the Devil + downmost! No. You’re more than a match for me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Silence, Darkness!’ thundered the Monk, ‘and think not to vanquish thy + victor by flatteries. Begone!’ + </p> + <p> + And again he towered in his wrath. + </p> + <p> + The Demon drew his tail between his legs, and threw the forked, fleshy, + quivering end over his shoulder. He then nodded cheerfully, pointed his + feet, and finicked a few steps away, saying: ‘I hope we shall meet again.’ + </p> + <p> + Upon that he shot out his wings, that were like the fins of the + wyver-fish, sharpened in venomous points. + </p> + <p> + ‘Commands for your people below?’ he inquired, leering with chin awry. + ‘Desperate ruffians some of those cowls. You are right not to acknowledge + them.’ + </p> + <p> + Farina beheld the holy man in no mood to let the Enemy tamper with him + longer. + </p> + <p> + The Demon was influenced by a like reflection; for, saying, ‘Cologne is + the city your Holiness inhabits, I think?’ he shot up rocket-like over + Rhineland, striking the entire length of the stream, and its rough-bearded + castle-crests, slate-ledges, bramble-clefts, vine-slopes, and haunted + valleys, with one brimstone flash. Frankfort and the far Main saw him and + reddened. Ancient Trier and Mosel; Heidelberg and Neckar; Limberg and + Lahn, ran guilty of him. And the swift artery of these shining veins, + Rhine, from his snow cradle to his salt decease, glimmered Stygian horrors + as the Infernal Comet, sprung over Bonn, sparkled a fiery minute along the + face of the stream, and vanished, leaving a seam of ragged flame trailed + on the midnight heavens. + </p> + <p> + Farina breathed hard through his teeth. + </p> + <p> + ‘The last of him was awful,’ said he, coming forward to where the Monk + knelt and grasped his breviary, ‘but he was vanquished easily.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Easily?’ exclaimed the holy man, gasping satisfaction: ‘thou weakling! is + it for thee to measure difficulties, or estimate powers? Easily? thou + worldling! and so are great deeds judged when the danger’s past! And what + am I but the humble instrument that brought about this wondrous conquest! + the poor tool of this astounding triumph! Shall the sword say, This is the + battle I won! Yonder the enemy I overthrow! Bow to me, ye lords of earth, + and worshippers of mighty acts? Not so! Nay, but the sword is honoured in + the hero’s grasp, and if it break not, it is accounted trusty. This, then, + this little I may claim, that I was trusty! Trusty in a heroic encounter! + Trusty in a battle with earth’s terror! Oh! but this must not be said. + This is to think too much! This is to be more than aught yet achieved by + man!’ + </p> + <p> + The holy warrior crossed his arms, and gently bowed his head. + </p> + <p> + ‘Take me to the Sisters,’ he said. ‘The spirit has gone out of me! I am + faint, and as a child!’ + </p> + <p> + Farina asked, and had, his blessing. + </p> + <p> + ‘And with it my thanks!’ said the Monk. ‘Thou hast witnessed how he can be + overcome! Thou hast looked upon a scene that will be the glory of + Christendom! Thou hast beheld the discomfiture of Darkness before the + voice of Light! Yet think not much of me: account me little in this + matter! I am but an instrument! but an instrument!—and again, but an + instrument!’ + </p> + <p> + Farina drew the arms of the holy combatant across his shoulders and + descended Drachenfels. + </p> + <p> + The tempest was as a forgotten anguish. Bright with maiden splendour shone + the moon; and the old rocks, cherished in her beams, put up their horns to + blue heaven once more. All the leafage of the land shook as to shake off a + wicked dream, and shuddered from time to time, whispering of old fears + quieted, and present peace. The heart of the river fondled with the image + of the moon in its depths. + </p> + <p> + ‘This is much to have won for earth,’ murmured the Monk. ‘And what is + life, or who would not risk all, to snatch such loveliness from the talons + of the Fiend, the Arch-foe? Yet, not I! not I! say not, ‘twas I did this!’ + </p> + <p> + Soft praises of melody ascended to them on the moist fragrance of air. It + was the hymn of the Sisters. + </p> + <p> + ‘How sweet!’ murmured the Monk. ‘Put it from me! away with it!’ + </p> + <p> + Rising on Farina’s back, and stirruping his feet on the thighs of the + youth, he cried aloud: ‘I charge ye, whoso ye be, sing not this deed + before the emperor! By the breath of your nostrils; pause! ere ye whisper + aught of the combat of Saint Gregory with Satan, and his victory, and the + marvel of it, while he liveth; for he would die the humble monk he is.’ + </p> + <p> + He resumed his seat, and Farina brought him into the circle of the + Sisters. Those pure women took him, and smoothed him, lamenting, and + filling the night with triumphing tones. + </p> + <p> + Farina stood apart. + </p> + <p> + ‘The breeze tells of dawn,’ said the Monk; ‘we must be in Cologne before + broad day.’ + </p> + <p> + They mounted horse, and the Sisters grouped and reverenced under the + blessings of the Monk. + </p> + <p> + ‘No word of it!’ said the Monk warningly. ‘We are silent, Father!’ they + answered. ‘Cologne-ward!’ was then his cry, and away he and Farina, flew. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE GOSHAWK LEADS + </h2> + <p> + Morning was among the grey eastern clouds as they rode upon the camp + hastily formed to meet the Kaiser. All there was in a wallow of confusion. + Fierce struggles for precedence still went on in the neighbourhood of the + imperial tent ground, where, under the standard of Germany, lounged some + veterans of the Kaiser’s guard, calmly watching the scramble. Up to the + edge of the cultivated land nothing was to be seen but brawling clumps of + warriors asserting the superior claims of their respective lords. + Variously and hotly disputed were these claims, as many red coxcombs + testified. Across that point where the green field flourished, not a foot + was set, for the Kaiser’s care of the farmer, and affection for good + harvests, made itself respected even in the heat of those jealous + rivalries. It was said of him, that he would have camped in a bog, or + taken quarters in a cathedral, rather than trample down a green blade of + wheat, or turn over one vine-pole in the empire. Hence the presence of + Kaiser Heinrich was never hailed as Egypt’s plague by the peasantry, but + welcome as the May month wherever he went. + </p> + <p> + Father Gregory and Farina found themselves in the centre of a group ere + they drew rein, and a cry rose, ‘The good father shall decide, and all’s + fair,’ followed by, ‘Agreed! Hail and tempest! he’s dropped down o’ + purpose.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Father,’ said one, ‘here it is! I say I saw the Devil himself fly off + Drachenfels, and flop into Cologne. Fritz here, and Frankenbauch, saw him + too. They’ll swear to him: so ‘ll I. Hell’s thunder! will we. Yonder + fellows will have it ‘twas a flash o’ lightning, as if I didn’t see him, + horns, tail, and claws, and a mighty sight ‘twas, as I’m a sinner.’ + </p> + <p> + A clash of voices, for the Devil and against him, burst on this accurate + description of the Evil spirit. The Monk sank his neck into his chest. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gladly would I hold silence on this, my sons,’ said he, in a supplicating + voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘Speak, Father,’ cried the first spokesman, gathering courage from the + looks of the Monk. + </p> + <p> + Father Gregory appeared to commune with himself deeply. At last, lifting + his head, and murmuring, ‘It must be,’ he said aloud: + </p> + <p> + ‘‘Twas verily Satan, O my sons! Him this night in mortal combat I + encountered and overcame on the summit of Drachenfels, before the eyes of + this youth; and from Satan I this night deliver ye! an instrument herein + as in all other.’ + </p> + <p> + Shouts, and a far-spreading buzz resounded in the camp. Hundreds had now + seen Satan flying off the Drachenstein. Father Gregory could no longer + hope to escape from the importunate crowds that beset him for particulars. + The much-contested point now was, as to the exact position of Satan’s tail + during his airy circuit, before descending into Cologne. It lashed like a + lion’s. ‘Twas cocked, for certain! He sneaked it between his legs like a + lurcher! He made it stumpy as a brown bear’s! He carried it upright as a + pike! + </p> + <p> + ‘O my sons! have I sown dissension? Have I not given ye peace?’ exclaimed + the Monk. + </p> + <p> + But they continued to discuss it with increasing frenzy. + </p> + <p> + Farina cast a glance over the tumult, and beheld his friend Guy beckoning + earnestly. He had no difficulty in getting away to him, as the fetters of + all eyes were on the Monk alone. + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk was stamping with excitement. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not a moment to be lost, my lad,’ said Guy, catching his arm. ‘Here, I’ve + had half-a-dozen fights already for this bit of ground. Do you know that + fellow squatting there?’ + </p> + <p> + Farina beheld the Thier at the entrance of a tumbledown tent. He was + ruefully rubbing a broken head. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now,’ continued Guy, ‘to mount him is the thing; and then after the + wolves of Werner as fast as horse-flesh can carry us. No questions! Bound, + are you? And what am I? But this is life and death, lad! Hark!’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk whispered something that sucked the blood out of Farina’s + cheek. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look you—what’s your lockjaw name? Keep good faith with me, and you + shall have your revenge, and the shiners I promise, besides my lord’s + interest for a better master: but, sharp! we won’t mount till we’re out of + sight o’ the hell-scum you horde with.’ + </p> + <p> + The Thier stood up and staggered after them through the camp. There was no + difficulty in mounting him horses were loose, and scampering about the + country, not yet delivered from their terrors of the last night’s tempest. + </p> + <p> + ‘Here be we, three good men!’ exclaimed Guy, when they were started, and + Farina had hurriedly given him the heads of his adventure with the Monk. + ‘Three good men! One has helped to kick the devil: one has served an + apprenticeship to his limb: and one is ready to meet him foot to foot any + day, which last should be myself. Not a man more do we want, though it + were to fish up that treasure you talk of being under the Rhine there, and + guarded by I don’t know how many tricksy little villains. Horses can be + ferried across at Linz, you say?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, thereabout,’ grunted the Thier. + </p> + <p> + ‘We ‘re on the right road, then!’ said Guy. ‘Thanks to you both, I’ve had + no sleep for two nights—not a wink, and must snatch it going—not + the first time.’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk bent his body, and spoke no more. Farina could not get a word + further from him. By the mastery he still had over his rein, the Goshawk + alone proved that he was of the world of the living. Schwartz Thier, + rendered either sullen or stunned by the latest cracked crown he had + received, held his jaws close as if they had been nailed. + </p> + <p> + At Linz the horses were well breathed. The Goshawk, who had been snoring + an instant before, examined them keenly, and shook his calculating head. + </p> + <p> + ‘Punch that beast of yours in the ribs,’ said he to Farina. ‘Ah! not a + yard of wind in him. And there’s the coming back, when we shall have more + to carry. Well: this is my lord’s money; but i’ faith, it’s going in a + good cause, and Master Groschen will make it all right, no doubt; not a + doubt of it.’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk had seen some excellent beasts in the stables of the Kaiser’s + Krone; but the landlord would make no exchange without an advance of + silver. This done, the arrangement was prompt. + </p> + <p> + ‘Schwartz Thier!—I’ve got your name now,’ said Guy, as they were + ferrying across, ‘you’re stiff certain they left Cologne with the maiden + yesternoon, now?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, did they! and she’s at the Eck safe enow by this time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And away from the Eck this night she shall come, trust me!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Or there will I die with her!’ cried Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘Fifteen men at most, he has, you said,’ continued Guy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Two not sound, five true as steel, and the rest shillyshally. ‘Slife, one + lock loose serves us; but two saves us: five we’re a match for, throwing + in bluff Baron; the remainder go with victory.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Can we trust this fellow?’ whispered Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘Trust him!’ roared Guy. ‘Why, I’ve thumped him, lad; pegged and pardoned + him. Trust him? trust me! If Werner catches a sight of that snout of his + within half-a-mile of his hold, he’ll roast him alive.’ + </p> + <p> + He lowered his voice: ‘Trust him? We can do nothing without him. I knocked + the devil out of him early this morning. No chance for his Highness + anywhere now. This Eck of Werner’s would stand a siege from the Kaiser in + person, I hear. We must into it like weasels; and out as we can.’ + </p> + <p> + Dismissing the ferry-barge with stern injunctions to be in waiting from + noon to noon, the three leapt on their fresh nags. + </p> + <p> + ‘Stop at the first village,’ said Guy; ‘we must lay in provision. As + Master Groschen says, “Nothing’s to be done, Turpin, without provender.”’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Goshawk!’ cried Farina; ‘you have time; tell me how this business was + done.’ + </p> + <p> + The only reply was a soft but decided snore, that spoke, like a voluptuous + trumpet, of dreamland and its visions. + </p> + <p> + At Sinzig, the Thier laid his hand on Guy’s bridle, with the words, ‘Feed + here,’ a brief, but effective, form of signal, which aroused the Goshawk + completely. The sign of the Trauben received them. Here, wurst reeking + with garlic, eggs, black bread, and sour wine, was all they could procure. + Farina refused to eat, and maintained his resolution, in spite of Guy’s + sarcastic chiding. + </p> + <p> + ‘Rub down the beasts, then, and water them,’ said the latter. ‘Made a vow, + I suppose,’ muttered Guy. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the way of those fellows. No upright manly + take-the-thing-as-it-comes; but fly-sky-high whenever there’s a dash on + their heaven. What has his belly done to offend him? It will be crying out + just when we want all quiet. I wouldn’t pay Werner such a compliment as go + without a breakfast for him. Not I! Would you, Schwartz Thier?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Henker! not I!’ growled the Thier. ‘He’ll lose one sooner.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘First snatch his prey, or he’ll be making, God save us! a meal for a + Kaiser, the brute.’ + </p> + <p> + Guy called in the landlady, clapped down the score, and abused the wine. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sir,’ said the landlady, ‘ours is but a poor inn, and we do our best.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So you do,’ replied the Goshawk, softened; ‘and I say that a civil tongue + and rosy smiles sweeten even sour wine.’ + </p> + <p> + The landlady, a summer widow, blushed, and as he was stepping from the + room, called him aside. + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought you were one of that dreadful Werner’s band, and I hate him.’ + </p> + <p> + Guy undeceived her. + </p> + <p> + ‘He took my sister,’ she went on, ‘and his cruelty killed her. He + persecuted me even in the lifetime of my good man. Last night he came here + in the middle of the storm with a young creature bright as an angel, and + sorrowful—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s gone, you’re sure?’ broke in Guy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gone! Oh, yes! Soon as the storm abated he dragged her on. Oh! the way + that young thing looked at me, and I able to do nothing for her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, the Lord bless you for a rosy Christian!’ cried Guy, and, in his + admiration, he flung his arm round her and sealed a ringing kiss on each + cheek. + </p> + <p> + ‘No good man defrauded by that! and let me see the fellow that thinks evil + of it. If I ever told a woman a secret, I ‘d tell you one now, trust me. + But I never do, so farewell! Not another?’ + </p> + <p> + Hasty times keep the feelings in a ferment, and the landlady was extremely + angry with Guy and heartily forgave him, all within a minute. + </p> + <p> + ‘No more,’ said she, laughing: ‘but wait; I have something for you.’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk lingered on a fretting heel. She was quickly under his elbow + again with two flasks leaning from her bosom to her arms. + </p> + <p> + ‘There! I seldom meet a man like you; and, when I do, I like to be + remembered. This is a true good wine, real Liebfrauenmilch, which I only + give to choice customers.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Welcome it is!’ sang Guy to her arch looks; ‘but I must pay for it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not a pfennig!’ said the landlady. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not one?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not one!’ she repeated, with a stamp of the foot. + </p> + <p> + ‘In other coin, then,’ quoth Guy; and folding her waist, which did not + this time back away, the favoured Goshawk registered rosy payment on a + very fresh red mouth, receiving in return such lively discount, that he + felt himself bound in conscience to make up the full sum a second time. + </p> + <p> + ‘What a man!’ sighed the landlady, as she watched the Goshawk lead off + along the banks; ‘courtly as a knight, open as a squire, and gentle as a + page!’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WERNER’S ECK + </h2> + <p> + A league behind Andernach, and more in the wintry circle of the sun than + Laach, its convenient monastic neighbour, stood the castle of Werner, the + Robber Baron. Far into the South, hazy with afternoon light, a yellow + succession of sandhills stretched away, spouting fire against the blue sky + of an elder world, but now dead and barren of herbage. Around is a dusty + plain, where the green blades of spring no sooner peep than they become + grimed with sand and take an aged look, in accordance with the ungenerous + harvests they promise. The aridity of the prospect is relieved on one side + by the lofty woods of Laach, through which the sun setting burns + golden-red, and on the other by the silver sparkle of a narrow winding + stream, bordered with poplars, and seen but a glistening mile of its + length by all the thirsty hills. The Eck, or Corner, itself, is thick-set + with wood, but of a stunted growth, and lying like a dark patch on the + landscape. It served, however, entirely to conceal the castle, and mask + every movement of the wary and terrible master. A trained eye advancing on + the copse would hardly mark the glimmer of the turrets over the topmost + leaves, but to every loophole of the walls lies bare the circuit of the + land. Werner could rule with a glance the Rhine’s course down from the + broad rock over Coblentz to the white tower of Andernach. He claimed that + march as his right; but the Mosel was no hard ride’s distance, and he + gratified his thirst for rapine chiefly on that river, delighting in it, + consequently, as much as his robber nature boiled over the bound of his + feudal privileges. + </p> + <p> + Often had the Baron held his own against sieges and restrictions, bans and + impositions of all kinds. He boasted that there was never a knight within + twenty miles of him that he had not beaten, nor monk of the same limit not + in his pay. This braggadocio received some warrant from his yearly + increase of licence; and his craft and his castle combined, made him a + notable pest of the region, a scandal to the abbey whose countenance he + had, and a frightful infliction on the poorer farmers and peasantry. + </p> + <p> + The sun was beginning to slope over Laach, and threw the shadows of the + abbey towers half-way across the blue lake-waters, as two men in the garb + of husbandmen emerged from the wood. Their feet plunged heavily and their + heads hung down, as they strode beside a wain mounted with straw, + whistling an air of stupid unconcern; but a close listener might have + heard that the lumbering vehicle carried a human voice giving them + directions as to the road they were to take, and what sort of behaviour to + observe under certain events. The land was solitary. A boor passing asked + whether toll or tribute they were conveying to Werner. Tribute, they were + advised to reply, which caused him to shrug and curse as he jogged on. + Hearing him, the voice in the wain chuckled grimly. Their next speech was + with a trooper, who overtook them, and wanted to know what they had in the + wain for Werner. Tribute, they replied, and won the title of ‘brave pigs’ + for their trouble. + </p> + <p> + ‘But what’s the dish made of?’ said the trooper, stirring the straw with + his sword-point. + </p> + <p> + ‘Tribute,’ came the answer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ha! You’ve not been to Werner’s school,’ and the trooper swung a + sword-stroke at the taller of the two, sending a tremendous shudder + throughout his frame; but he held his head to the ground, and only seemed + to betray animal consciousness in leaning his ear closer to the wain. + </p> + <p> + ‘Blood and storm! Will ye speak?’ cried the trooper. + </p> + <p> + ‘Never talk much; but an ye say nothing to the Baron,’—thrusting his + hand into the straw—‘here’s what’s better than speaking.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well said!—Eh? Liebfrauenmilch? Ho, ho! a rare bleed!’ + </p> + <p> + Striking the neck of the flask on a wheel, the trooper applied it to his + mouth, and ceased not deeply ingurgitating till his face was broad to the + sky and the bottle reversed. He then dashed it down, sighed, and shook + himself. + </p> + <p> + ‘Rare news! the Kaiser’s come: he’ll be in Cologne by night; but first he + must see the Baron, and I’m post with the order. That’s to show you how + high he stands in the Kaiser’s grace. Don’t be thinking of upsetting + Werner yet, any of you; mind, now!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s Blass-Gesell,’ said the voice in the wain, as the trooper trotted + on: adding, ‘‘gainst us.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Makes six,’ responded the driver. + </p> + <p> + Within sight of the Eck, they descried another trooper coming toward them. + This time the driver was first to speak. + </p> + <p> + ‘Tribute! Provender! Bread and wine for the high Baron Werner from his + vassals over Tonnistein.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And I’m out of it! fasting like a winter wolf,’ howled the fellow. + </p> + <p> + He was in the act of addressing himself to an inspection of the wain’s + contents, when a second flask lifted in air, gave a sop to his curiosity. + This flask suffered the fate of the former. + </p> + <p> + ‘A Swabian blockhead, aren’t you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, that country,’ said the driver. ‘May be, Henker Rothhals happens to + be with the Baron?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To hell with him! I wish he had my job, and I his, of watching the + yellow-bird in her new cage, till she’s taken out to-night, and then a + jolly bumper to the Baron all round.’ + </p> + <p> + The driver wished him a fortunate journey, strongly recommending him to + skirt the abbey westward, and go by the Ahr valley, as there was something + stirring that way, and mumbling, ‘Makes five again,’ as he put the wheels + in motion. + </p> + <p> + ‘Goshawk!’ said his visible companion; ‘what do you say now?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I say, bless that widow!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! bring me face to face with this accursed Werner quickly, my God!’ + gasped the youth. + </p> + <p> + ‘Tusk! ‘tis not Werner we want—there’s the Thier speaking. No, no, + Schwartz Thier! I trust you, no doubt; but the badger smells at a hole, + before he goes inside it. We’re strangers, and are allowed to miss our + way.’ + </p> + <p> + Leaving the wain in Farina’s charge, he pushed through a dense growth of + shrub and underwood, and came crouching on a precipitous edge of shrouded + crag, which commanded a view of the stronghold, extending round it, as if + scooped clean by some natural action, about a stone’sthrow distant, and + nearly level with the look-out tower. Sheer from a deep circular basin + clothed with wood, and bottomed with grass and bubbling water, rose a + naked moss-stained rock, on whose peak the castle firmly perched, like a + spying hawk. The only means of access was by a narrow natural bridge of + rock flung from this insulated pinnacle across to the mainland. One man, + well disposed, might have held it against forty. + </p> + <p> + ‘Our way’s the best,’ thought Guy, as he meditated every mode of gaining + admission. ‘A hundred men an hour might be lost cutting steps up that + steep slate; and once at the top we should only have to be shoved down + again.’ + </p> + <p> + While thus engaged, he heard a summons sounded from the castle, and + scrambled back to Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘The Thier leads now,’ said he, ‘and who leads is captain. It seems easier + to get out of that than in. There’s a square tower, and a round. I guess + the maiden to be in the round. Now, lad, no crying out—You don’t + come in with us; but back you go for the horses, and have them ready and + fresh in yon watered meadow under the castle. The path down winds easy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Man!’ cried Farina, ‘what do you take me for?—go you for the + horses.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not for a fool,’ Guy rejoined, tightening his lip; ‘but now is your time + to prove yourself one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘With you, or without you, I enter that castle!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! if you want to be served up hot for the Baron’s supper-mess, by all + means.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Thunder!’ growled Schwartz Thier, ‘aren’t ye moving?’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk beckoned Farina aside. + </p> + <p> + ‘Act as I tell you, or I’m for Cologne.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Traitor!’ muttered the youth. + </p> + <p> + ‘Swearing this, that if we fail, the Baron shall need a leech sooner than + a bride.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That stroke must be mine!’ + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk griped the muscle of Farina’s arm till the youth was compelled + to slacken it with pain. + </p> + <p> + ‘Could you drive a knife through a six-inch wood-wall? I doubt this wild + boar wants a harder hit than many a best man could give. ‘Sblood! obey, + sirrah. How shall we keep yon fellow true, if he sees we’re at points?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I yield,’ exclaimed Farina with a fall of the chest; ‘but hear I nothing + of you by midnight—Oh! then think not I shall leave another minute + to chance. Farewell! haste! Heaven prosper you! You will see her, and die + under her eyes. That may be denied to me. What have I done to be refused + that last boon?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Gone without breakfast and dinner,’ said Guy in abhorrent tones. + </p> + <p> + A whistle from the wain, following a noise of the castlegates being flung + open, called the Goshawk away, and he slouched his shoulders and strode to + do his part, without another word. Farina gazed after him, and dropped + into the covert. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WATER-LADY + </h2> + <p> + ‘Bird of lovers! Voice of the passion of love! Sweet, deep, + disaster-toning nightingale!’ sings the old minnesinger; ‘who that has not + loved, hearing thee is touched with the wand of love’s mysteries, and + yearneth to he knoweth not whom, humbled by overfulness of heart; but who, + listening, already loveth, heareth the language he would speak, yet + faileth in; feeleth the great tongueless sea of his infinite desires + stirred beyond his narrow bosom; is as one stript of wings whom the angels + beckon to their silver homes: and he leaneth forward to ascend to them, + and is mocked by his effort: then is he of the fallen, and of the fallen + would he remain, but that tears lighten him, and through the tears stream + jewelled shafts dropt down to him from the sky, precious ladders inlaid + with amethyst, sapphire, blended jasper, beryl, rose-ruby, ether of heaven + flushed with softened bloom of the insufferable Presences: and lo, the + ladders dance, and quiver, and waylay his eyelids, and a second time he is + mocked, aspiring: and after the third swoon standeth Hope before him with + folded arms, and eyes dry of the delusions of tears, saying, Thou hast + seen! thou hast felt! thy strength hath reached in thee so far! now shall + I never die in thee!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For surely,’ says the minstrel, ‘Hope is not born of earth, or it were + perishable. Rather know her the offspring of that embrace strong love + straineth the heavens with. This owe we to thy music, bridal nightingale! + And the difference of this celestial spirit from the smirking phantasy of + whom all stand soon or late forsaken, is the difference between painted + day with its poor ambitious snares, and night lifting its myriad tapers + round the throne of the eternal, the prophet stars of everlasting time! + And the one dieth, and the other liveth; and the one is unregretted, and + the other walketh in thought-spun raiment of divine melancholy; her ears + crowded with the pale surges that wrap this shifting shore; in her eyes a + shape of beauty floating dimly, that she will not attain this side the + water, but broodeth on evermore. + </p> + <p> + ‘Therefore, hold on thy cherished four long notes, which are as the very + edge where exultation and anguish melt, meet, and are sharpened to one + ecstasy, death-dividing bird! Fill the woods with passionate chuckle and + sob, sweet chaplain of the marriage service of a soul with heaven! Pour + out thy holy wine of song upon the soft-footed darkness, till, like a + priest of the inmost temple, ‘tis drunken with fair intelligences!’ + </p> + <p> + Thus the old minstrels and minnesingers. + </p> + <p> + Strong and full sang the nightingales that night Farina held watch by the + guilty castle that entombed his living beloved. The castle looked itself a + denser shade among the moonthrown shadows of rock and tree. The meadow + spread like a green courtyard at the castle’s foot. It was of lush deep + emerald grass, softly mixed with grey in the moon’s light, and showing + like jasper. Where the shadows fell thickest, there was yet a mist of + colour. All about ran a brook, and babbled to itself. The spring crocus + lifted its head in moist midgrasses of the meadow, rejoiced with + freshness. The rugged heights seemed to clasp this one innocent spot as + their only garden-treasure; and a bank of hazels hid it from the castle + with a lover’s arm. + </p> + <p> + ‘The moon will tell me,’ mused Farina; ‘the moon will signal me the hour! + When the moon hangs over the round tower, I shall know ‘tis time to + strike.’ + </p> + <p> + The song of the nightingales was a full unceasing throb. + </p> + <p> + It went like the outcry of one heart from branch to branch. The four long + notes, and the short fifth which leads off to that hurried gush of music, + gurgling rich with passion, came thick and constant from under the + tremulous leaves. + </p> + <p> + At first Farina had been deaf to them. His heart was in the dungeon with + Margarita, or with the Goshawk in his dangers, forming a thousand + desperate plans, among the red-hot ploughshares of desperate action. + Finally, without a sense of being wooed, it was won. The tenderness of his + love then mastered him. + </p> + <p> + ‘God will not suffer that fair head to come to harm!’ he thought, and with + the thought a load fell off his breast. + </p> + <p> + He paced the meadows, and patted the three pasturing steeds. Involuntarily + his sight grew on the moon. She went so slowly. She seemed not to move at + all. A little wing of vapour flew toward her; it whitened, passed, and the + moon was slower than before. Oh! were the heavens delaying their march to + look on this iniquity? Again and again he cried, ‘Patience, it is not + time!’ He flung himself on the grass. The next moment he climbed the + heights, and was peering at the mass of gloom that fronted the sky. It + reared such a mailed head of menace, that his heart was seized with a + quivering, as though it had been struck. Behind lay scattered some small + faint-winkling stars on sapphire fields, and a stain of yellow light was + in a breach of one wall. + </p> + <p> + He descended. What was the Goshawk doing? Was he betrayed? It was surely + now time? No; the moon had not yet smitten the face of the castle. He made + his way through the hazel-bank among flitting nightmoths, and glanced up + to measure the moon’s distance. As he did so, a first touch of silver fell + on the hoary flint. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, young bird of heaven in that Devil’s clutch!’ + </p> + <p> + Sounds like the baying of boar-hounds alarmed him. They whined into + silence. + </p> + <p> + He fell back. The meadow breathed peace, and more and more the + nightingales volumed their notes. As in a charmed circle of palpitating + song, he succumbed to languor. The brook rolled beside him fresh as an + infant, toying with the moonlight. He leaned over it, and thrice waywardly + dipped his hand in the clear translucence. + </p> + <p> + Was it his own face imaged there? + </p> + <p> + Farina bent close above an eddy of the water. It whirled with a strange + tumult, breaking into lines and lights a face not his own, nor the moon’s; + nor was it a reflection. The agitation increased. Now a wreath of bubbles + crowned the pool, and a pure water-lily, but larger, ascended wavering. + </p> + <p> + He started aside; and under him a bright head, garlanded with gemmed + roses, appeared. No fairer figure of woman had Farina seen. Her visage had + the lustrous white of moonlight, and all her shape undulated in a dress of + flashing silver-white, wonderful to see. The Lady of the Water smiled on + him, and ran over with ripples and dimples of limpid beauty. Then, as he + retreated on the meadow grass, she swam toward him, and taking his hand, + pressed it to her. After her touch the youth no longer feared. She curved + her finger, and beckoned him on. All that she did was done flowingly. The + youth was a shadow in her silver track as she passed like a harmless wave + over the closed crocuses; but the crocuses shivered and swelled their + throats of streaked purple and argent as at delicious rare sips of a wine. + Breath of violet, and ladysmock, and valley-lily, mingled and fluttered + about her. Farina was as a man working the day’s intent in a dream. He + could see the heart in her translucent, hanging like a cold dingy ruby. By + the purity of his nature he felt that such a presence must have come but + to help. It might be Margarita’s guardian fairy! + </p> + <p> + They passed the hazel-bank, and rounded the castlecrag, washed by the + brook and, beneath the advancing moon, standing in a ring of brawling + silver. The youth with his fervid eyes marked the old weather-stains and + scars of long defiance coming into colour. That mystery of wickedness + which the towers had worn in the dusk, was dissolved, and he endured no + more the almost abashed sensation of competing littleness that made him + think there was nought to do, save die, combating single-handed such + massive power. The moon shone calmly superior, like the prowess of maiden + knights; and now the harsh frown of the walls struck resolution to his + spirit, and nerved him with hate and the contempt true courage feels when + matched against fraud and villany. + </p> + <p> + On a fallen block of slate, cushioned with rich brown moss and rusted + weather-stains, the Water-Lady sat, and pointed to Farina the path of the + moon toward the round tower. She did not speak, and if his lips parted, + put her cold finger across them. Then she began to hum a soft sweet + monotony of song, vague and careless, very witching to hear. Farina caught + no words, nor whether the song was of days in dust or in flower, but his + mind bloomed with legends and sad splendours of story, while she sang on + the slate-block under sprinkled shadows by the water. + </p> + <p> + He had listened long in trance, when the Water-Lady hushed, and stretched + forth a slender forefinger to the moon. It stood like a dot over the round + tower. Farina rose in haste. She did not leave him to ask her aid, but + took his hand and led him up the steep ascent. Halfway to the castle, she + rested. There, concealed by bramble-tufts, she disclosed the low portal of + a secret passage, and pushed it open without effort. She paused at the + entrance, and he could see her trembling, seeming to wax taller, till she + was like a fountain glittering in the cold light. Then she dropped, as + drops a dying bet, and cowered into the passage. + </p> + <p> + Darkness, thick with earth-dews, oppressed his senses. He felt the clammy + walls scraping close on him. Not the dimmest lamp, or guiding sound, was + near; but the lady went on as one who knew her way. Passing a low-vaulted + dungeon-room, they wound up stairs hewn in the rock, and came to a door, + obedient to her touch, which displayed a chamber faintly misted by a + solitary bar of moonlight. Farina perceived they were above the foundation + of the castle. The walls gleamed pale with knightly harness, habergeons + gaping for heads, breastplates of blue steel, halbert, and hand-axe, + greaves, glaives, boar-spears, and polished spur-fixed heel-pieces. He + seized a falchion hanging apart, but the lady stayed his arm, and led to + another flight of stone ending in a kind of corridor. Noises of laughter + and high feasting beset him at this point. The Lady of the Water sidled + her head, as to note a familiar voice; and then drew him to a looped + aperture. + </p> + <p> + Farina beheld a scene that first dazzled, but, as it grew into shape, sank + him with dismay. Below, and level with the chamber he had left, a rude + banqueting-hall glowed, under the light of a dozen flambeaux, with smoking + boar’s flesh, deer’s flesh, stone-flagons, and horn-beakers. At the head + of this board sat Werner, scarlet with furious feasting, and on his right + hand, Margarita, bloodless as a beautiful martyr bound to the fire. + Retainers of Werner occupied the length of the hall, chorusing the Baron’s + speeches, and drinking their own healths when there was no call for + another. Farina saw his beloved alone. She was dressed as when he parted + with her last. The dear cameo lay on her bosom, but not heaving proudly as + of old. Her shoulders were drooped forward, and contracted her bosom in + its heaving. She would have had a humbled look, but for the marble + sternness of her eyes. They were fixed as eyes that see the way of death + through all earthly objects. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, dogs!’ cried the Baron, ‘the health of the night! and swell your + lungs, for I’ll have no cat’s cry when Werner’s bride is the toast. Monk + or no monk’s leave, she’s mine. Ay, my pretty one! it shall be made right + in the morning, if I lead all the Laach rats here by the nose. Thunder! no + disrespect to Werner’s bride from Pope or abbot. Now, sing out!—or + wait! these fellows shall drink it first.’ + </p> + <p> + He stretched and threw a beaker of wine right and left behind him, and + Farina’s despair stiffened his limbs as he recognized the Goshawk and + Schwartz Thier strapped to the floor. Their beards were already moist with + previous libations similarly bestowed, and they received this in sullen + stillness; but Farina thought he observed a rapid glance of encouragement + dart from beneath the Goshawk’s bent brows, as Margarita momentarily + turned her head half-way on him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Lick your chaps, ye beasts, and don’t say Werner stints vermin good cheer + his nuptial-night. Now,’ continued the Baron, growing huskier as he talked + louder: ‘Short and ringing, my devil’s pups:—Werner and his Bride! + and may she soon give you a young baron to keep you in better order than I + can, as, if she does her duty, she will.’ + </p> + <p> + The Baron stood up, and lifted his huge arm to lead the toast. + </p> + <p> + ‘Werner and his Bride!’ + </p> + <p> + Not a voice followed him. There was a sudden intimation of the call being + echoed; but it snapped, and ended in shuffling tones, as if the hall-door + had closed on the response. + </p> + <p> + ‘What ‘s this?’ roared the Baron, in that caged wild beast voice Margarita + remembered she had heard in the Cathedral Square. + </p> + <p> + No one replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘Speak! or I’ll rot you a fathom in the rock, curs!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Herr Baron!’ said Henker Rothhals impressively; ‘the matter is, that + there’s something unholy among us.’ + </p> + <p> + The Baron’s goblet flew at his head before the words were uttered. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll make an unholy thing of him that says it,’ and Werner lowered at + them one by one. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I say it, Herr Baron!’ pursued Henker Rothhals, wiping his + frontispiece: ‘The Devil has turned against you at last. Look up there—Ah, + it’s gone now; but where’s the man sitting this side saw it not?’ + </p> + <p> + The Baron made one spring, and stood on the board. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now! will any rascal here please to say so?’ + </p> + <p> + Something in the cruel hang of his threatening hatchet jaw silenced many + in the act of confirming the assertion. + </p> + <p> + ‘Stand out, Henker Rotthals!’ + </p> + <p> + Rotthals slid a hunting-knife up his wrist, and stepped back from the + board. + </p> + <p> + ‘Beast!’ roared the Baron, ‘I said I wouldn’t shed blood to-night. I + spared a traitor, and an enemy——’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Look again!’ said Rothhals; ‘will any fellow say he saw nothing there.’ + </p> + <p> + While all heads, including Werner’s, were directed to the aperture which + surveyed them, Rothhals tossed his knife to the Goshawk unperceived. + </p> + <p> + This time answers came to his challenge, but not in confirmation. The + Baron spoke with a gasping gentleness. + </p> + <p> + ‘So you trifle with me? I’m dangerous for that game. Mind you of + Blass-Gesell? I made a better beast of him by sending him three-quarters + of the road to hell for trial.’ Bellowing, ‘Take that!’ he discharged a + broad blade, hitherto concealed in his right hand, straight at Rothhals. + It fixed in his cheek and jaw, wringing an awful breath of pain from him + as he fell against the wall. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s a lesson for you not to cross me, children!’ said Werner, + striding his stumpy legs up and down the crashing board, and puffing his + monstrous girth of chest and midriff. ‘Let him stop there awhile, to show + what comes of thwarting Werner!—Fire-devils! before the baroness, + too!—Something unholy is there? Something unholy in his jaw, I + think!—Leave it sticking! He’s against meat last, is he? I’ll teach + you who he’s for!—Who speaks?’ + </p> + <p> + All hung silent. These men were animals dominated by a mightier brute. + </p> + <p> + He clasped his throat, and shook the board with a jump, as he squeaked, + rather than called, a second time ‘Who spoke?’ + </p> + <p> + He had not again to ask. In this pause, as the Baron glared for his + victim, a song, so softly sung that it sounded remote, but of which every + syllable was clearly rounded, swelled into his ears, and froze him in his + angry posture. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘The blood of the barons shall turn to ice, + And their castle fall to wreck, + When a true lover dips in the water thrice, + That runs round Werner’s Eck. + + ‘Round Werner’s Eck the water runs; + The hazels shiver and shake: + The walls that have blotted such happy suns, + Are seized with the ruin-quake. + + ‘And quake with the ruin, and quake with rue, + Thou last of Werner’s race! + The hearts of the barons were cold that knew + The Water-Dame’s embrace. + + ‘For a sin was done, and a shame was wrought, + That water went to hide: + And those who thought to make it nought, + They did but spread it wide. + + ‘Hold ready, hold ready to pay the price, + And keep thy bridal cheer: + A hand has dipped in the water thrice, + And the Water-Dame is here.’ +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE RESCUE + </h2> + <p> + The Goshawk was on his feet. ‘Now, lass,’ said he to Margarita, ‘now is + the time!’ He took her hand, and led her to the door. Schwartz Thier + closed up behind her. Not a man in the hall interposed. Werner’s head + moved round after them, like a dog on the watch; but he was dumb. The door + opened, and Farina entered. He bore a sheaf of weapons under his arm. The + familiar sight relieved Werner’s senses from the charm. He shouted to bar + the prisoners’ passage. His men were ranged like statues in the hall. + There was a start among them, as if that terrible noise communicated an + instinct of obedience, but no more. They glanced at each other, and + remained quiet. + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk had his eye on Werner. ‘Stand back, lass!’ he said to + Margarita. She took a sword from Farina, and answered, with white lips and + flashing eyes, ‘I can fight, Goshawk!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And shall, if need be; but leave it to me now, returned Guy. + </p> + <p> + His eye never left the Baron. Suddenly a shriek of steel rang. All fell + aside, and the combatants stood opposed on clear ground. Farina, took + Margarita’s left hand, and placed her against the wall between the Thier + and himself. Werner’s men were well content to let their master fight it + out. The words spoken by Henker Rothhals, that the Devil had forsaken him, + seemed in their minds confirmed by the weird song which every one present + could swear he heard with his ears. ‘Let him take his chance, and try his + own luck,’ they said, and shrugged. The battle was between Guy, as + Margarita’s champion, and Werner. + </p> + <p> + In Schwartz Thier’s judgement, the two were well matched, and he estimated + their diverse qualities from sharp experience. ‘For short work the Baron, + and my new mate for tough standing to ‘t!’ Farina’s summary in favour of + the Goshawk was, ‘A stouter heart, harder sinews, and a good cause. The + combat was generally regarded with a professional eye, and few prayers. + Margarita solely there asked aid from above, and knelt to the Virgin; but + her, too, the clash of arms and dire earnest of mortal fight aroused to + eager eyes. She had not dallied with heroes in her dreams. She was as + ready to second Siegfried on the crimson field as tend him in the silken + chamber. + </p> + <p> + It was well that a woman’s heart was there to mark the grace and glory of + manhood in upright foot-to-foot encounter. For the others, it was a mere + calculation of lucky hits. Even Farina, in his anxiety for her, saw but + the brightening and darkening of the prospect of escape in every attitude + and hard-ringing blow. Margarita was possessed with a painful exaltation. + In her eyes the bestial Baron now took a nobler form and countenance; but + the Goshawk assumed the sovereign aspect of old heroes, who, whether + persecuted or favoured of heaven, still maintained their stand, + remembering of what stuff they were, and who made them. + </p> + <p> + ‘Never,’ say the old writers, with a fervour honourable to their knowledge + of the elements that compose our being, ‘never may this bright privilege + of fair fight depart from us, nor advantage of it fail to be taken! Man + against man, or beast, singly keeping his ground, is as fine rapture to + the breast as Beauty in her softest hour affordeth. For if woman taketh + loveliness to her when she languisheth, so surely doth man in these fierce + moods, when steel and iron sparkle opposed, and their breath is fire, and + their lips white with the lock of resolution; all their faculties knotted + to a point, and their energies alive as the daylight to prove themselves + superior, according to the laws and under the blessing of chivalry.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For all,’ they go on to improve the comparison, ‘may admire and delight + in fair blossoming dales under the blue dome of peace; but ‘tis the rare + lofty heart alone comprehendeth, and is heightened by, terrific splendours + of tempest, when cloud meets cloud in skies black as the sepulchre, and + Glory sits like a flame on the helm of Ruin’ + </p> + <p> + For a while the combatants aired their dexterity, contenting themselves + with cunning cuts and flicks of the sword-edge, in which Werner first drew + blood by a keen sweep along the forehead of the Goshawk. Guy had allowed + him to keep his position on the board, and still fought at his face and + neck. He now jerked back his body from the hip, and swung a round stroke + at Werner’s knee, sending him in retreat with a snort of pain. Before the + Baron could make good his ground, Guy was level with him on the board. + </p> + <p> + Werner turned an upbraiding howl at his men. They were not disposed to + second him yet. They one and all approved his personal battle with Fate, + and never more admired him and felt his power; but the affair was + exciting, and they were not the pillars to prop a falling house. + </p> + <p> + Werner clenched his two hands to his ponderous glaive, and fell upon Guy + with heavier fury. He was becoming not unworth the little womanly + appreciation Margarita was brought to bestow on him. The voice of the + Water-Lady whispered at her heart that the Baron warred on his destiny, + and that ennobles all living souls. + </p> + <p> + Bare-headed the combatants engaged, and the headpiece was the chief point + of attack. No swerving from blows was possible for either: ward, or take; + a false step would have ensured defeat. This also induced caution. Many a + double stamp of the foot was heard, as each had to retire in turn. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not at his head so much, he’ll bear battering there all night long,’ said + Henker Rothhals in a breathing interval. Knocks had been pretty equally + exchanged, but the Baron’s head certainly looked the least vulnerable, + whereas Guy exhibited several dints that streamed freely. Yet he looked, + eye and bearing, as fresh as when they began, and the calm, regular heave + of his chest contrasted with Werner’s quick gasps. His smile, too, renewed + each time the Baron paused for breath, gave Margarita heart. It was not a + taunting smile, but one of entire confidence, and told all the more on his + adversary. As Werner led off again, and the choice was always left him, + every expression of the Goshawk’s face passed to full light in his broad + eyes. + </p> + <p> + The Baron’s play was a reckless fury. There was nothing to study in it. + Guy became the chief object of speculation. He was evidently trying to + wind his man. + </p> + <p> + He struck wildly, some thought. Others judged that he was a random hitter, + and had no mortal point in aim. Schwartz Thier’s opinion was frequently + vented. ‘Too round a stroke—down on him! Chop-not slice!’ + </p> + <p> + Guy persevered in his own fashion. According to Schwartz Thier, he brought + down by his wilfulness the blow that took him on the left shoulder, and + nigh broke him. It was a weighty blow, followed by a thump of sound. The + sword-edge swerved on his shoulder-blade, or he must have been disabled. + But Werner’s crow was short, and he had no time to push success. One of + the Goshawk’s swooping under-hits half severed his right wrist, and the + blood spirted across the board. He gasped and seemed to succumb, but held + to it still, though with slackened force. Guy now attacked. Holding to his + round strokes, he accustomed Werner to guard the body, and stood to it so + briskly right and left, that Werner grew bewildered, lost his caution, and + gave ground. Suddenly the Goshawk’s glaive flashed in air, and chopped + sheer down on Werner’s head. So shrewd a blow it was against a half-formed + defence, that the Baron dropped without a word right on the edge of the + board, and there hung, feebly grasping with his fingers. + </p> + <p> + ‘Who bars the way now?’ sang out Guy. + </p> + <p> + No one accepted the challenge. Success clothed him with terrors, and gave + him giant size. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then fare you well, my merry men all,’ said Guy. ‘Bear me no ill-will for + this. A little doctoring will right the bold Baron.’ + </p> + <p> + He strode jauntily to the verge of the board, and held his finger for + Margarita to follow. She stepped forward. The men put their beards + together, muttering. She could not advance. Farina doubled his elbow, and + presented sword-point. Three of the ruffians now disputed the way with + bare steel. Margarita looked at the Goshawk. He was smiling calmly curious + as he leaned over his sword, and gave her an encouraging nod. She made + another step in defiance. One fellow stretched his hand to arrest her. All + her maidenly pride stood up at once. ‘What a glorious girl!’ murmured the + Goshawk, as he saw her face suddenly flash, and she retreated a pace and + swung a sharp cut across the knuckles of her assailant, daring him, or one + of them, with hard, bright eyes, beautifully vindictive, to lay hand on a + pure maiden. + </p> + <p> + ‘You have it, Barenleib!’ cried the others, and then to Margarita: ‘Look, + young mistress! we are poor fellows, and ask a trifle of ransom, and then + part friends.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not an ace!’ the Goshawk pronounced from his post. + </p> + <p> + ‘Two to one, remember.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The odds are ours,’ replied the Goshawk confidently. + </p> + <p> + They ranged themselves in front of the hall-door. Instead of accepting + this challenge, Guy stepped to Werner, and laid his moaning foe + length-wise in an easier posture. He then lifted Margarita on the board, + and summoned them with cry of ‘Free passage!’ They answered by a sullen + shrug and taunt. + </p> + <p> + ‘Schwartz Thier! Rothhals! Farina! buckle up, and make ready then,’ sang + Guy. + </p> + <p> + He measured the length, of his sword, and raised it. The Goshawk had not + underrated his enemies. He was tempted to despise them when he marked + their gradually lengthening chaps and eyeballs. + </p> + <p> + Not one of them moved. All gazed at him as if their marrows were freezing + with horror. + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s this?’ cried Guy. + </p> + <p> + They knew as little as he, but a force was behind them irresistible + against their efforts. The groaning oak slipped open, pushing them + forward, and an apparition glided past, soft as the pallid silver of the + moon. She slid to the Baron, and put her arms about him, and sang to him. + Had the Water-Lady laid an iron hand on all those ruffians, she could not + have held them faster bound than did the fear of her presence. The Goshawk + drew his fair charge through them, followed by Farina, the Thier, and + Rothhals. A last glimpse of the hall showed them still as old cathedral + sculpture staring at white light on a fluted pillar of the wall. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PASSAGE OF THE RHINE + </h2> + <p> + Low among the swarthy sandhills behind the Abbey of Laach dropped the + round red moon. Soft lengths of misty yellow stole through the glens of + Rhineland. The nightingales still sang. Closer and closer the moon came + into the hushed valleys. + </p> + <p> + There is a dell behind Hammerstein Castle, a ring of basking sward, + girdled by a silver slate-brook, and guarded by four high-peaked hills + that slope down four long wooded corners to the grassy base. Here, it is + said, the elves and earthmen play, dancing in circles with laughing feet + that fatten the mushroom. They would have been fulfilling the tradition + now, but that the place was occupied by a sturdy group of mortals, armed + with staves. The intruders were sleepy, and lay about on the inclines. Now + and then two got up, and there rang hard echoes of oak. Again all were + calm as cud-chewing cattle, and the white water ran pleased with quiet. + </p> + <p> + It may be that the elves brewed mischief among them; for the oaken blows + were becoming more frequent. One complained of a kick: another demanded + satisfaction for a pinch. ‘Go to,’ drawled the accused drowsily in both + cases, ‘too much beer last night!’ Within three minutes, the company + counted a pair of broken heads. The East was winning on the West in + heaven, and the dusk was thinning. They began to mark, each, whom he had + cudgelled. A noise of something swiftly in motion made them alert. A + roebuck rushed down one of the hills, and scampered across the sward. The + fine beast went stretching so rapidly away as to be hardly distinct. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sathanas once more!’ they murmured, and drew together. + </p> + <p> + The name passed through them like a watchword. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not he this time,’ cried the two new-comers, emerging from the foliage. + ‘He’s safe under Cologne—the worse for all good men who live there! + But come! follow to the Rhine! there ‘s work for us on the yonder side, + and sharp work.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why,’ answered several, ‘we ‘ve our challenge with the lads of Leutesdorf + and Wied to-day.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘D’ ye see this?’ said the foremost of the others, pointing to a carved + ivory white rose in his cap. + </p> + <p> + ‘Brothers!’ he swelled his voice, ‘follow with a will, for the White Rose + is in danger!’ + </p> + <p> + Immediately they ranked, and followed zealously through the buds of young + bushes, and over heaps of damp dead leaves, a half-hour’s scramble, when + they defiled under Hammerstein, and stood before the Rhine. Their leader + led up the river, and after a hasty walk, stopped, loosened his hood, and + stripped. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now,’ said he, strapping the bundle to his back, ‘let me know the hound + that refuses to follow his leader when the White Rose is in danger.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Long live Dietrich!’ they shouted. He dropped from the bank, and waded + in. He was soon supported by the remainder of the striplings, and all + struck out boldly into mid-stream. + </p> + <p> + Never heard history of a nobler Passage of the Rhine than this made + between Andernach and Hammerstein by members of the White Rose Club, + bundle on back, to relieve the White Rose of Germany from thrall and + shame! + </p> + <p> + They were taken far down by the rapid current, and arrived panting to + land. The dressing done, they marched up the pass of Tonnistein, and took + a deep draught at the spring of pleasant waters there open to wayfarers. + Arrived at the skirts of Laach, they beheld two farmer peasants lashed + back to back against a hazel. They released them, but could gain no word + of information, as the fellows, after a yawn and a wink, started off, all + heels, to make sure of liberty. On the shores of the lake the brotherhood + descried a body of youths, whom they hailed, and were welcomed to + companionship. + </p> + <p> + ‘Where’s Berthold?’ asked Dietrich. + </p> + <p> + He was not present. + </p> + <p> + ‘The more glory for us, then,’ Dietrich said. + </p> + <p> + It was here seriously put to the captain, whether they should not halt at + the abbey, and reflect, seeing that great work was in prospect. + </p> + <p> + ‘Truly,’ quoth Dietrich, ‘dying on an empty stomach is heathenish, and + cold blood makes a green wound gape. Kaiser Conrad should be hospitable, + and the monks honour numbers. Here be we, thirty and nine; let us go!’ + </p> + <p> + The West was dark blue with fallen light. The lakewaters were growing grey + with twilight. The abbey stood muffled in shadows. Already the youths had + commenced battering at the convent doors, when they were summoned by the + voice of the Goshawk on horseback. To their confusion they beheld the + White Rose herself on his right hand. Chapfallen Dietrich bowed to his + sweet mistress. + </p> + <p> + ‘We were coming to the rescue,’ he stammered. + </p> + <p> + A laugh broke from the Goshawk. ‘You thought the lady was locked up in the + ghostly larder; eh!’ + </p> + <p> + Dietrich seized his sword, and tightened his belt. + </p> + <p> + ‘The Club allows no jesting with the White Rose, Sir Stranger.’ + </p> + <p> + Margarita made peace. ‘I thank you all, good friends. But quarrel not, I + pray you, with them that save me at the risk of their lives.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Our service is equal,’ said the Goshawk, flourishing, ‘Only we happen to + be beforehand with the Club, for which Farina and myself heartily beg + pardon of the entire brotherhood.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Farina!’ exclaimed Dietrich. ‘Then we make a prisoner instead of uncaging + a captive.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What ‘s this?’ said Guy. + </p> + <p> + ‘So much,’ responded Dietrich. ‘Yonder’s a runaway from two masters: the + law of Cologne, and the conqueror of Satan; and all good citizens are + empowered to bring him back, dead or alive.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Dietrich! Dietrich! dare you talk thus of the man who saved me?’ cried + Margarita. + </p> + <p> + Dietrich sullenly persisted. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then, look!’ said the White Rose, reddening under the pale dawn; ‘he + shall not, he shall not go with you.’ + </p> + <p> + One of the Club was here on the point of speaking to the White Rose,—a + breach of the captain’s privilege. Dietrich felled him unresisting to + earth, and resumed: + </p> + <p> + ‘It must be done, Beauty of Cologne! the monk, Father Gregory, is now + enduring shame and scorn for lack of this truant witness.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Enough! I go!’ said Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘You leave me?’ Margarita looked tender reproach. Weariness and fierce + excitement had given a liquid flame to her eyes and an endearing darkness + round their circles that matched strangely with her plump youth. Her + features had a soft white flush. She was less radiant, but never looked so + bewitching. An aspect of sweet human languor caught at the heart of love, + and raised tumults. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is a duty,’ said Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then go,’ she beckoned, and held her hand for him to kiss. He raised it + to his lips. This was seen of all the Club. + </p> + <p> + As they were departing with Farina, and Guy prepared to demand admittance + into the convent, Dietrich chanced to ask how fared Dame Lisbeth. Schwartz + Thier was by, and answered, with a laugh, that he had quite forgotten the + little lady. + </p> + <p> + ‘We took her in mistake for you, mistress! She was a one to scream! The + moment she was kissed—mum as a cloister. We kissed her, all of us, + for the fun of it. No harm—no harm! We should have dropped her when + we found we had the old bird ‘stead of the young one, but reckoned ransom, + ye see. She’s at the Eck, rattling, I’s wager, like last year’s nut in the + shell!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Lisbeth! Lisbeth! poor Lisbeth; we will return to her. Instantly,’ cried + Margarita. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not you,’ said Guy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes! I!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No!’ said Guy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gallant Goshawk! best of birds, let me go!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Without me or Farina, never! I see I shall have no chance with my lord + now. Come, then, come, fair Irresistible! come, lads. Farina can journey + back alone. You shall have the renown of rescuing Dame Lisbeth.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Farina! forget not to comfort my father,’ said Margarita. + </p> + <p> + Between Margarita’s society and Farina’s, there was little dispute in the + captain’s mind which choice to make. Farina was allowed to travel single + to Cologne; and Dietrich, petted by Margarita, and gently jeered by Guy, + headed the Club from Laach waters to the castle of the Robber Baron. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE BACK-BLOWS OF SATHANAS + </h2> + <p> + Monk Gregory was pacing the high road between the Imperial camp and + suffering Cologne. The sun had risen through interminable distances of + cloud that held him remote in a succession of receding mounds and thinner + veils, realm beyond realm, till he showed fireless, like a phantom king in + a phantom land. The lark was in the breast of morning. The field-mouse ran + along the furrows. Dews hung red and grey on the weedy banks and wayside + trees. At times the nostril of the good father was lifted, and he beat his + breast, relapsing into sorrowful contemplation. Passed-any citizen of + Cologne, the ghostly head sunk into its cowl. ‘There’s a black raven!’ + said many. Monk Gregory heard them, and murmured, ‘Thou hast me, Evil one! + thou hast me!’ + </p> + <p> + It was noon when Farina came clattering down from the camp. + </p> + <p> + ‘Father,’ said he, ‘I have sought thee.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My son!’ exclaimed Monk Gregory with silencing hand, ‘thou didst not well + to leave me contending against the tongues of doubt. Answer me not. The + maiden! and what weighed she in such a scale?—No more! I am + punished. Well speaks the ancient proverb: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Beware the back-blows of Sathanas!” + </pre> + <p> + I, that thought to have vanquished him! Vanity has wrecked me, in this + world and the next. I am the victim of self-incense. I hear the demons + shouting their chorus—“Here comes Monk Gregory, who called himself + Conqueror of Darkness!” In the camp I am discredited and a scoff; in the + city I am spat upon, abhorred. Satan, my son, fights not with his + fore-claws. ‘Tis with his tail he fights, O Farina!—Listen, my son! + he entered to his kingdom below through Cologne, even under the stones of + the Cathedral Square, and the stench of him abominably remaineth, + challenging the nostrils of holy and unholy alike. The Kaiser cannot + approach for him; the citizens are outraged. Oh! had I held my peace in + humbleness, I had truly conquered him. But he gave me easy victory, to + inflate me. I shall not last. Now this only is left, my son; that thou + bear living testimony to the truth of my statement, as I bear it to the + folly!’ + </p> + <p> + Farina promised, in the face of all, he would proclaim and witness to his + victory on Drachenfels. + </p> + <p> + ‘That I may not be ranked an impostor!’ continued the Monk. ‘And how great + must be the virtue of them that encounter that dark spirit! Valour + availeth nought. But if virtue be not in’ ye, soon will ye be puffed to + bursting with that devil’s poison, self-incense. Surely, my son, thou art + faithful; and for this service I can reward thee. Follow me yet again.’ + </p> + <p> + On the road they met Gottlieb Groschen, hastening to the camp. Dismay + rumpled the old merchant’s honest jowl. Farina drew rein before him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Your daughter is safe, worthy Master Groschen,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘Safe?’ cried Gottlieb; ‘where is she, my Grete?’ + </p> + <p> + Farina briefly explained. Gottlieb spread out his arms, and was going to + thank the youth. He saw Father Gregory, and his whole frame narrowed with + disgust. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you in company with that pestilent animal, that curse of Cologne!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The good Monk—,’ said Farina. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are leagued with him, then, sirrah! Expect no thanks from me. + Cologne, I say, is cursed! Meddling wretches! could ye not leave Satan + alone? He hurt us not. We were free of him. Cologne, I say, is cursed! The + enemy of mankind is brought by you to be the deadly foe of Cologne.’ + </p> + <p> + So saying, Gottlieb departed. + </p> + <p> + ‘Seest thou, my son,’ quoth the Monk, ‘they reason not!’ + </p> + <p> + Farina was dejected. Willingly would he, for his part, have left the soul + of Evil a loose rover for the sake of some brighter horizon to his hope. + </p> + <p> + No twinge of remorse accompanied Gottlieb. The Kaiser had allotted him an + encampment and a guard of honour for his household while the foulness + raged, and there Gottlieb welcomed back Margarita and Aunt Lisbeth on the + noon after his meeting with Farina. The White Rose had rested at Laach, + and was blooming again. She and the Goshawk came trotting in advance of + the Club through the woods of Laach, startling the deer with laughter, and + sending the hare with her ears laid back all across country. In vain + Dietrich menaced Guy with the terrors of the Club: Aunt Lisbeth begged of + Margarita not to leave her with the footmen in vain. The joyous couple + galloped over the country, and sprang the ditches, and leapt the dykes, up + and down the banks, glad as morning hawks, entering Andernach at a round + pace; where they rested at a hostel as capable of producing good Rhine and + Mosel wine then as now. Here they had mid-day’s meal laid out in the + garden for the angry Club, and somewhat appeased them on their arrival + with bumpers of the best Scharzhofberger. After a refreshing halt, three + boats were hired. On their passage to the river, they encountered a + procession of monks headed by the Archbishop of Andernach, bearing a small + figure of Christ carved in blackthorn and varnished: said to work + miracles, and a present to the good town from two Hungarian pilgrims. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are ye for Cologne?’ the monks inquired of them. + </p> + <p> + ‘Direct down stream!’ they answered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Send, then, hither to us Gregory, the conqueror of Darkness, that he may + know there is gratitude on earth and gratulation for great deeds,’ said + the monks. + </p> + <p> + So with genuflexions the travellers proceeded, and entered the boats by + the Archbishop’s White Tower. Hammerstein Castle and Rheineck they floated + under; Salzig and the Ahr confluence; Rolandseck and Nonnenwerth; + Drachenfels and Bonn; hills green with young vines; dells waving fresh + foliage. Margarita sang as they floated. Ancient ballads she sang that + made the Goshawk sigh for home, and affected the Club with delirious love + for the grand old water that was speeding them onward. Aunt Lisbeth was + not to be moved. She alone held down her head. She looked not Gottlieb in + the face as he embraced her. Nor to any questioning would she vouchsafe + reply. From that time forth, she was charity to woman; and the exuberant + cheerfulness and familiarity of the men toward her soon grew kindly and + respectful. The dragon in Aunt Lisbeth was destroyed. She objected no more + to Margarita’s cameo. + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk quickly made peace with his lord, and enjoyed the commendation + of the Kaiser. Dietrich Schill thought of challenging him; but the Club + had graver business: and this was to pass sentence on Berthold Schmidt for + the crime of betraying the White Rose into the hands of Werner. They had + found Berthold at the Eck, and there consented to let him remain until + ransom was paid for his traitorous body. Berthold in his mad passion was + tricked by Werner, and on his release, by payment of the ransom, submitted + to the judgement of the Club, which condemned him to fight them all in + turn, and then endure banishment from Rhineland; the Goshawk, for his + sister’s sake, interceding before a harsher tribunal. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE ENTRY INTO COLOGNE + </h2> + <p> + Seven days Kaiser Heinrich remained camped outside Cologne. Six times in + six successive days the Kaiser attempted to enter the city, and was + foiled. + </p> + <p> + ‘Beard of Barbarossa!’ said the Kaiser, ‘this is the first stronghold that + ever resisted me.’ + </p> + <p> + The warrior bishops, electors, pfalzgrafs, and knights of the Empire, all + swore it was no shame not to be a match for the Demon. + </p> + <p> + ‘If,’ said the reflective Kaiser, ‘we are to suffer below what poor + Cologne is doomed to undergo now, let us, by all that is savoury, reform + and do penance.’ + </p> + <p> + The wind just then setting on them dead from Cologne made the courtiers + serious. Many thought of their souls for the first time. + </p> + <p> + This is recorded to the honour of Monk Gregory. + </p> + <p> + On the seventh morning, the Kaiser announced his determination to make a + last trial. + </p> + <p> + It was dawn, and a youth stood before the Kaiser’s tent, praying an + audience. + </p> + <p> + Conducted into the presence of the Kaiser, the youth, they say, succeeded + in arousing him from his depression, for, brave as he was, Kaiser Heinrich + dreaded the issue. Forthwith order was given for the cavalcade to set out + according to the rescript, Kaiser Heinrich retaining the youth at his + right hand. But the youth had found occasion to visit Gottlieb and + Margarita, each of whom he furnished with a flash, [flask?] curiously + shaped, and charged with a distillation. + </p> + <p> + As the head of the procession reached the gates of Cologne, symptoms of + wavering were manifest. + </p> + <p> + Kaiser Heinrich commanded an advance, at all cost. + </p> + <p> + Pfalzgraf Nase, as the old chronicles call him in their humour, but + assuredly a great noble, led the van, and pushed across the draw-bridge. + </p> + <p> + Hesitation and signs of horror were manifest in the assemblage round the + Kaiser’s person. The Kaiser and the youth at his right hand were cheery. + Not a whit drooped they! Several of the heroic knights begged the Kaiser’s + permission to fall back. + </p> + <p> + ‘Follow Pfalzgraf Nase!’ the Kaiser is reported to have said. + </p> + <p> + Great was the wonderment of the people of Cologne to behold Kaiser + Heinrich riding in perfect stateliness up the main street toward the + Cathedral, while right and left of him bishops and electors were dropping + incapable. + </p> + <p> + The Kaiser advanced till by his side the youth rode sole. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thy name?’ said the Kaiser. + </p> + <p> + He answered: ‘A poor youth, unconquerable Kaiser! Farina I am called.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Thy recompense?’ said the Kaiser. + </p> + <p> + He answered: ‘The hand of a maiden of Cologne, most gracious Kaiser and + master!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She is thine!’ said the Kaiser. + </p> + <p> + Kaiser Heinrich looked behind him, and among a host grasping the pommels + of their saddles, and reeling vanquished, were but two erect, a maiden and + an old man. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is she, unconquerable Kaiser!’ Farina continued, bowing low. + </p> + <p> + ‘It shall be arranged on the spot,’ said the Kaiser. + </p> + <p> + A word from Kaiser Heinrich sealed Gottlieb’s compliance. + </p> + <p> + Said he: ‘Gracious Kaiser and master! though such a youth could of himself + never have aspired to the possession of a Groschen, yet when the Kaiser + pleads for him, objection is as the rock of Moses, and streams consent. + Truly he has done Cologne good service, and if Margarita, my daughter, can + be persuaded—’ + </p> + <p> + The Kaiser addressed her with his blazing brows. + </p> + <p> + Margarita blushed a ready autumn of rosy-ripe acquiescence. + </p> + <p> + ‘A marriage registered yonder!’ said the Kaiser, pointing upward. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am thine, murmured Margarita, as Farina drew near her. + </p> + <p> + ‘Seal it! seal it!’ quoth the Kaiser, in hearty good humour; ‘take no + consent from man or maid without a seal.’ + </p> + <p> + Farina tossed the contents of a flask in air, and saluted his beloved on + the lips. + </p> + <p> + This scene took place near the charred round of earth where the Foulest + descended to his kingdom below. + </p> + <p> + Men now pervaded Cologne with flasks, purifying the atmosphere. It became + possible to breathe freely. + </p> + <p> + ‘We Germans,’ said Kaiser Heinrich, when he was again surrounded by his + courtiers, ‘may go wrong if we always follow Pfalzgraf Nase; but this time + we have been well led.’ Whereat there was obsequious laughter. + </p> + <p> + The Pfalzgraf pleaded a susceptible nostril. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thou art, I fear, but a timid mortal,’ said the Kaiser. + </p> + <p> + ‘Never have I been found so on the German Field, Imperial Majesty!’ + returned the Pfalzgraf. ‘I take glory to myself that this Nether reek + overcomes me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Even that we must combat, you see!’ exclaimed Kaiser Heinrich; ‘but come + all to a marriage this night, and take brides as soon as you will, all of + you. Increase, and give us loyal subjects in plenty. I count prosperity by + the number of marriages in my empire!’ + </p> + <p> + The White Rose Club were invited by Gottlieb to the wedding, and took it + in vast wrath until they saw the Kaiser, and such excellent stout German + fare present, when immediately a battle raged as to who should do the + event most honour, and was in dispute till dawn: Dietrich Schill being the + man, he having consumed wurst the length of his arm, and wine sufficient + to have floated a St. Goar salmon; which was long proudly chronicled in + his family, and is now unearthed from among the ancient honourable records + of Cologne. + </p> + <p> + The Goshawk was Farina’s bridesman, and a very spiriting bridesman was he! + Aunt Lisbeth sat in a corner, faintly smiling. + </p> + <p> + ‘Child!’ said the little lady to Margarita when they kissed at parting, + ‘your courage amazes me. Do you think? Do you know? Poor, sweet bird, + delivered over hand and foot!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I love him! I love him, aunty! that’s all I know,’ said Margarita: ‘love, + love, love him!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Heaven help you!’ ejaculated Aunt Lisbeth. + </p> + <p> + ‘Pray with me,’ said Margarita. + </p> + <p> + The two knelt at the foot of the bride-bed, and prayed very different + prayers, but to the same end. That done, Aunt Lisbeth helped undress the + White Rose, and trembled, and told a sad nuptial anecdote of the Castle, + and put her little shrivelled hand on Margarita’s heart, and shrieked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Child! it gallops!’ she cried. + </p> + <p> + ‘‘Tis happiness,’ said Margarita, standing in her hair. + </p> + <p> + ‘May it last only!’ exclaimed Aunt Lisbeth. + </p> + <p> + ‘It will, aunty! I am humble: I am true’; and the fair girl gathered the + frill of her nightgown. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look not in the glass,’ said Lisbeth; ‘not to-night! Look, if you can, + to-morrow.’ + </p> + <p> + She smoothed the White Rose in her bed, tucked her up, and kissed her, + leaving her as a bud that waits for sunshine. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_CONC" id="link2H_CONC"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CONCLUSION + </h2> + <p> + The shadow of Monk Gregory was seen no more in Cologne. He entered the + Calendar, and ranks next St. Anthony. For three successive centuries the + towns of Rhineland boasted his visits in the flesh, and the conqueror of + Darkness caused dire Rhenish feuds. + </p> + <p> + The Tailed Infernal repeated his famous Back-blow on Farina. The youth + awoke one morning and beheld warehouses the exact pattern of his own, + displaying flasks shaped even as his own, and a Farina to right and left + of him. In a week, they were doubled. A month quadrupled them. They + increased. + </p> + <p> + ‘Fame and Fortune,’ mused Farina, ‘come from man and the world: Love is + from heaven. We may be worthy, and lose the first. We lose not love unless + unworthy. Would ye know the true Farina? Look for him who walks under the + seal of bliss; whose darling is for ever his young sweet bride, leading + him from snares, priming his soul with celestial freshness. There is no + hypocrisy can ape that aspect. Least of all, the creatures of the Damned! + By this I may be known.’ + </p> + <p> + Seven years after, when the Goshawk came into Cologne to see old friends, + and drink some of Gottlieb’s oldest Rudesheimer, he was waylaid by false + Farinas; and only discovered the true one at last, by chance, in the + music-gardens near the Rhine, where Farina sat, having on one hand + Margarita, and at his feet three boys and one girl, over whom both bent + lovingly, like the parent vine fondling its grape bunches in summer light. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + A generous enemy is a friend on the wrong side + All are friends who sit at table + Be what you seem, my little one + Bed was a rock of refuge and fortified defence + Civil tongue and rosy smiles sweeten even sour wine + Dangerous things are uttered after the third glass + Everywhere the badge of subjection is a poor stomach + Face betokening the perpetual smack of lemon + Gratitude never was a woman’s gift + It was harder to be near and not close + Loving in this land: they all go mad, straight off + Never reckon on womankind for a wise act + Self-incense + Sign that the evil had reached from pricks to pokes + So are great deeds judged when the danger’s past (as easy) + Soft slumber of a strength never yet called forth + Suspicion was her best witness + Sweet treasure before which lies a dragon sleeping + We like well whatso we have done good work for + Weak reeds who are easily vanquished and never overcome + Weak stomach is certainly more carnally virtuous than a full one + Wins everywhere back a reflection of its own kindliness +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CASE OF GENERAL OPLE AND LADY CAMPER + </h2> + <h3> + By George Meredith + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + An excursion beyond the immediate suburbs of London, projected long before + his pony-carriage was hired to conduct him, in fact ever since his + retirement from active service, led General Ople across a famous common, + with which he fell in love at once, to a lofty highway along the borders + of a park, for which he promptly exchanged his heart, and so gradually + within a stone’s-throw or so of the river-side, where he determined not + solely to bestow his affections but to settle for life. It may be seen + that he was of an adventurous temperament, though he had thought fit to + loosen his sword-belt. The pony-carriage, however, had been hired for the + very special purpose of helping him to pass in review the lines of what he + called country houses, cottages, or even sites for building, not too + remote from sweet London: and as when Coelebs goes forth intending to + pursue and obtain, there is no doubt of his bringing home a wife, the + circumstance that there stood a house to let, in an airy situation, at a + certain distance in hail of the metropolis he worshipped, was enough to + kindle the General’s enthusiasm. He would have taken the first he saw, had + it not been for his daughter, who accompanied him, and at the age of + eighteen was about to undertake the management of his house. Fortune, + under Elizabeth Ople’s guiding restraint, directed him to an epitome of + the comforts. The place he fell upon is only to be described in the tongue + of auctioneers, and for the first week after taking it he modestly + followed them by terming it bijou. In time, when his own imagination, + instigated by a state of something more than mere contentment, had been at + work on it, he chose the happy phrase, ‘a gentlemanly residence.’ For it + was, he declared, a small estate. There was a lodge to it, resembling two + sentry-boxes forced into union, where in one half an old couple sat bent, + in the other half lay compressed; there was a backdrive to discoverable + stables; there was a bit of grass that would have appeared a meadow if + magnified; and there was a wall round the kitchen-garden and a strip of + wood round the flower-garden. The prying of the outside world was + impossible. Comfort, fortification; and gentlemanliness made the place, as + the General said, an ideal English home. + </p> + <p> + The compass of the estate was half an acre, and perhaps a perch or two, + just the size for the hugging love General Ople was happiest in giving. He + wisely decided to retain the old couple at the lodge, whose members were + used to restriction, and also not to purchase a cow, that would have + wanted pasture. With the old man, while the old woman attended to the bell + at the handsome front entrance with its gilt-spiked gates, he undertook to + do the gardening; a business he delighted in, so long as he could perform + it in a gentlemanly manner, that is to say, so long as he was not + overlooked. He was perfectly concealed from the road. Only one house, and + curiously indeed, only one window of the house, and further to show the + protection extended to Douro Lodge, that window an attic, overlooked him. + And the house was empty. + </p> + <p> + The house (for who can hope, and who should desire a commodious house, + with conservatories, aviaries, pond and boat-shed, and other joys of + wealth, to remain unoccupied) was taken two seasons later by a lady, of + whom Fame, rolling like a dust-cloud from the place she had left, reported + that she was eccentric. The word is uninstructive: it does not frighten. + In a lady of a certain age, it is rather a characteristic of aristocracy + in retirement. And at least it implies wealth. + </p> + <p> + General Ople was very anxious to see her. He had the sentiment of humble + respectfulness toward aristocracy, and there was that in riches which + aroused his admiration. London, for instance, he was not afraid to say he + thought the wonder of the world. He remarked, in addition, that the + sacking of London would suffice to make every common soldier of the + foreign army of occupation an independent gentleman for the term of his + natural days. But this is a nightmare! said he, startling himself with an + abhorrent dream of envy of those enriched invading officers: for Booty is + the one lovely thing which the military mind can contemplate in the + abstract. His habit was to go off in an explosion of heavy sighs when he + had delivered himself so far, like a man at war with himself. + </p> + <p> + The lady arrived in time: she received the cards of the neighbourhood, and + signalized her eccentricity by paying no attention to them, excepting the + card of a Mrs. Baerens, who had audience of her at once. By express + arrangement, the card of General Wilson Ople, as her nearest neighbour, + followed the card of the rector, the social head of the district; and the + rector was granted an interview, but Lady Camper was not at home to + General Ople. She is of superior station to me, and may not wish to + associate with me, the General modestly said. Nevertheless he was wounded: + for in spite of himself, and without the slightest wish to obtrude his own + person, as he explained the meaning that he had in him, his rank in the + British army forced him to be the representative of it, in the absence of + any one of a superior rank. So that he was professionally hurt, and his + heart being in his profession, it may be honestly stated that he was + wounded in his feelings, though he said no, and insisted on the + distinction. Once a day his walk for constitutional exercise compelled him + to pass before Lady Camper’s windows, which were not bashfully withdrawn, + as he said humorously of Douro Lodge, in the seclusion of half-pay, but + bowed out imperiously, militarily, like a generalissimo on horseback, and + had full command of the road and levels up to the swelling park-foliage. + He went by at a smart stride, with a delicate depression of his upright + bearing, as though hastening to greet a friend in view, whose hand was + getting ready for the shake. This much would have been observed by a + housemaid; and considering his fine figure and the peculiar shining + silveriness of his hair, the acceleration of his gait was noticeable. When + he drove by, the pony’s right ear was flicked, to the extreme indignation + of a mettlesome little animal. It ensued in consequence that the General + was borne flying under the eyes of Lady Camper, and such pace displeasing + him, he reduced it invariably at a step or two beyond the corner of her + grounds. + </p> + <p> + But neither he nor his daughter Elizabeth attached importance to so + trivial a circumstance. The General punctiliously avoided glancing at the + windows during the passage past them, whether in his wild career or on + foot. Elizabeth took a side-shot, as one looks at a wayside tree. Their + speech concerning Lady Camper was an exchange of commonplaces over her + loneliness: and this condition of hers was the more perplexing to General + Ople on his hearing from his daughter that the lady was very fine-looking, + and not so very old, as he had fancied eccentric ladies must be. The + rector’s account of her, too, excited the mind. She had informed him + bluntly, that she now and then went to church to save appearances, but was + not a church-goer, finding it impossible to support the length of the + service; might, however, be reckoned in subscriptions for all the + charities, and left her pew open to poor people, and none but the poor. + She had travelled over Europe, and knew the East. Sketches in watercolours + of the scenes she had visited adorned her walls, and a pair of pistols, + that she had found useful, she affirmed, lay on the writing-desk in her + drawing-room. General Ople gathered from the rector that she had a great + contempt for men: yet it was curiously varied with lamentations over the + weakness of women. ‘Really she cannot possibly be an example of that,’ + said the General, thinking of the pistols. + </p> + <p> + Now, we learn from those who have studied women on the chess-board, and + know what ebony or ivory will do along particular lines, or hopping, that + men much talked about will take possession of their thoughts; and + certainly the fact may be accepted for one of their moves. But the whole + fabric of our knowledge of them, which we are taught to build on this + originally acute perception, is shattered when we hear, that it is exactly + the same, in the same degree, in proportion to the amount of work they + have to do, exactly the same with men and their thoughts in the case of + women much talked about. So it was with General Ople, and nothing is left + for me to say except, that there is broader ground than the chessboard. I + am earnest in protesting the similarity of the singular couples on common + earth, because otherwise the General is in peril of the accusation that he + is a feminine character; and not simply was he a gallant officer, and a + veteran in gunpowder strife, he was also (and it is an extraordinary thing + that a genuine humility did not prevent it, and did survive it) a lord and + conqueror of the sex. He had done his pretty bit of mischief, all in the + way of honour, of course, but hearts had knocked. And now, with his bright + white hair, his close-brushed white whiskers on a face burnt brown, his + clear-cut features, and a winning droop of his eyelids, there was powder + in him still, if not shot. + </p> + <p> + There was a lamentable susceptibility to ladies’ charms. On the other + hand, for the protection of the sex, a remainder of shyness kept him from + active enterprise and in the state of suffering, so long as indications of + encouragement were wanting. He had killed the soft ones, who came to him, + attracted by the softness in him, to be killed: but clever women alarmed + and paralyzed him. Their aptness to question and require immediate + sparkling answers; their demand for fresh wit, of a kind that is not + furnished by publications which strike it into heads with a hammer, and + supply it wholesale; their various reading; their power of ridicule too; + made them awful in his contemplation. + </p> + <p> + Supposing (for the inflammable officer was now thinking, and deeply + thinking, of a clever woman), supposing that Lady Camper’s pistols were + needed in her defence one night: at the first report proclaiming her + extremity, valour might gain an introduction to her upon easy terms, and + would not be expected to be witty. She would, perhaps, after the + excitement, admit his masculine superiority, in the beautiful old fashion, + by fainting in his arms. Such was the reverie he passingly indulged, and + only so could he venture to hope for an acquaintance with the formidable + lady who was his next neighbour. But the proud society of the burglarious + denied him opportunity. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, he learnt that Lady Camper had a nephew, and the young + gentleman was in a cavalry regiment. General Ople met him outside his + gates, received and returned a polite salute, liked his appearance and + manners and talked of him to Elizabeth, asking her if by chance she had + seen him. She replied that she believed she had, and praised his + horsemanship. The General discovered that he was an excellent sculler. His + daughter was rowing him up the river when the young gentleman shot by, + with a splendid stroke, in an outrigger, backed, and floating alongside + presumed to enter into conversation, during which he managed to express + regrets at his aunt’s turn for solitariness. As they belonged to sister + branches of the same Service, the General and Mr. Reginald Roller had a + theme in common, and a passion. Elizabeth told her father that nothing + afforded her so much pleasure as to hear him talk with Mr. Roller on + military matters. General Ople assured her that it pleased him likewise. + He began to spy about for Mr. Roller, and it sometimes occurred that they + conversed across the wall; it could hardly be avoided. A hint or two, an + undefinable flying allusion, gave the General to understand that Lady + Camper had not been happy in her marriage. He was pained to think of her + misfortune; but as she was not over forty, the disaster was, perhaps, not + irremediable; that is to say, if she could be taught to extend her + forgiveness to men, and abandon her solitude. ‘If,’ he said to his + daughter, ‘Lady Camper should by any chance be induced to contract a + second alliance, she would, one might expect, be humanized, and we should + have highly agreeable neighbours.’ Elizabeth artlessly hoped for such an + event to take place. + </p> + <p> + She rarely differed with her father, up to whom, taking example from the + world around him, she looked as the pattern of a man of wise conduct. + </p> + <p> + And he was one; and though modest, he was in good humour with himself, + approved himself, and could say, that without boasting of success, he was + a satisfied man, until he met his touchstone in Lady Camper. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + This is the pathetic matter of my story, and it requires pointing out, + because he never could explain what it was that seemed to him so cruel in + it, for he was no brilliant son of fortune, he was no great pretender, + none of those who are logically displaced from the heights they have been + raised to, manifestly created to show the moral in Providence. He was + modest, retiring, humbly contented; a gentlemanly residence appeased his + ambition. Popular, he could own that he was, but not meteorically; rather + by reason of his willingness to receive light than his desire to shed it. + Why, then, was the terrible test brought to bear upon him, of all men? He + was one of us; no worse, and not strikingly or perilously better; and he + could not but feel, in the bitterness of his reflections upon an + inexplicable destiny, that the punishment befalling him, unmerited as it + was, looked like absence of Design in the scheme of things, Above. It + looked as if the blow had been dealt him by reckless chance. And to + believe that, was for the mind of General Ople the having to return to his + alphabet and recommence the ascent of the laborious mountain of + understanding. + </p> + <p> + To proceed, the General’s introduction to Lady Camper was owing to a + message she sent him by her gardener, with a request that he would cut + down a branch of a wychelm, obscuring her view across his grounds toward + the river. The General consulted with his daughter, and came to the + conclusion, that as he could hardly despatch a written reply to a verbal + message, yet greatly wished to subscribe to the wishes of Lady Camper, the + best thing for him to do was to apply for an interview. He sent word that + he would wait on Lady Camper immediately, and betook himself forthwith to + his toilette. She was the niece of an earl. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth commended his appearance, ‘passed him,’ as he would have said; + and well she might, for his hat, surtout, trousers and boots, were worthy + of an introduction to Royalty. A touch of scarlet silk round the neck gave + him bloom, and better than that, the blooming consciousness of it. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are not to be nervous, papa,’ Elizabeth said. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not at all,’ replied the General. ‘I say, not at all, my dear,’ he + repeated, and so betrayed that he had fallen into the nervous mood. ‘I was + saying, I have known worse mornings than this.’ He turned to her and + smiled brightly, nodded, and set his face to meet the future. + </p> + <p> + He was absent an hour and a half. + </p> + <p> + He came back with his radiance a little subdued, by no means eclipsed; as, + when experience has afforded us matter for thought, we cease to shine + dazzlingly, yet are not clouded; the rays have merely grown serener. The + sum of his impressions was conveyed in the reflective utterance—‘It + only shows, my dear, how different the reality is from our anticipation of + it!’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper had been charming; full of condescension, neighbourly, + friendly, willing to be satisfied with the sacrifice of the smallest + branch of the wych-elm, and only requiring that much for complimentary + reasons. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth wished to hear what they were, and she thought the request + rather singular; but the General begged her to bear in mind, that they + were dealing with a very extraordinary woman; ‘highly accomplished, really + exceedingly handsome,’ he said to himself, aloud. + </p> + <p> + The reasons were, her liking for air and view, and desire to see into her + neighbour’s grounds without having to mount to the attic. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth gave a slight exclamation, and blushed. + </p> + <p> + ‘So, my dear, we are objects of interest to her ladyship,’ said the + General. + </p> + <p> + He assured her that Lady Camper’s manners were delightful. Strange to + tell, she knew a great deal of his antecedent history, things he had not + supposed were known; ‘little matters,’ he remarked, by which his daughter + faintly conceived a reference to the conquests of his dashing days. Lady + Camper had deigned to impart some of her own, incidentally; that she was + of Welsh blood, and born among the mountains. ‘She has a romantic look,’ + was the General’s comment; and that her husband had been an insatiable + traveller before he became an invalid, and had never cared for Art. ‘Quite + an extraordinary circumstance, with such a wife!’ the General said. + </p> + <p> + He fell upon the wych-elm with his own hands, under cover of the leafage, + and the next day he paid his respects to Lady Camper, to inquire if her + ladyship saw any further obstruction to the view. + </p> + <p> + ‘None,’ she replied. ‘And now we shall see what the two birds will do.’ + </p> + <p> + Apparently, then, she entertained an animosity to a pair of birds in the + tree. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, yes; I say they chirp early in the morning,’ said General Ople. + </p> + <p> + ‘At all hours.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The song of birds...?’ he pleaded softly for nature. + </p> + <p> + ‘If the nest is provided for them; but I don’t like vagabond chirping.’ + </p> + <p> + The General perfectly acquiesced. This, in an engagement with a clever + woman, is what you should do, or else you are likely to find yourself + planted unawares in a high wind, your hat blown off, and your coat-tails + anywhere; in other words, you will stand ridiculous in your bewilderment; + and General Ople ever footed with the utmost caution to avoid that + quagmire of the ridiculous. The extremer quags he had hitherto escaped; + the smaller, into which he fell in his agile evasions of the big, he had + hitherto been blest in finding none to notice. + </p> + <p> + He requested her ladyship’s permission to present his daughter. Lady + Camper sent in her card. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Ople beheld a tall, handsomely-mannered lady, with good features + and penetrating dark eyes, an easy carriage of her person and an agreeable + voice, but (the vision of her age flashed out under the compelling eyes of + youth) fifty if a day. The rich colouring confessed to it. But she was + very pleasing, and Elizabeth’s perception dwelt on it only because her + father’s manly chivalry had defended the lady against one year more than + forty. + </p> + <p> + The richness of the colouring, Elizabeth feared, was artificial, and it + caused her ingenuous young blood a shudder. For we are so devoted to + nature when the dame is flattering us with her gifts, that we loathe the + substitute omitting to think how much less it is an imposition than a form + of practical adoration of the genuine. + </p> + <p> + Our young detective, however, concealed her emotion of childish horror. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper remarked of her, ‘She seems honest, and that is the most we + can hope of girls.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She is a jewel for an honest man,’ the General sighed, ‘some day!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let us hope it will be a distant day.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yet,’ said the General, ‘girls expect to marry.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper fixed her black eyes on him, but did not speak. + </p> + <p> + He told Elizabeth that her ladyship’s eyes were exceedingly searching: + ‘Only,’ said he, ‘as I have nothing to hide, I am able to submit to + inspection’; and he laughed slightly up to an arresting cough, and made + the mantelpiece ornaments pass muster. + </p> + <p> + General Ople was the hero to champion a lady whose airs of haughtiness + caused her to be somewhat backbitten. He assured everybody, that Lady + Camper was much misunderstood; she was a most remarkable woman; she was a + most affable and highly intelligent lady. Building up her attributes on a + splendid climax, he declared she was pious, charitable, witty, and really + an extraordinary artist. He laid particular stress on her artistic + qualities, describing her power with the brush, her water-colour sketches, + and also some immensely clever caricatures. As he talked of no one else, + his friends heard enough of Lady Camper, who was anything but a favourite. + The Pollingtons, the Wilders, the Wardens, the Baerens, the Goslings, and + others of his acquaintance, talked of Lady Camper and General Ople rather + maliciously. They were all City people, and they admired the General, but + mourned that he should so abjectly have fallen at the feet of a lady as + red with rouge as a railway bill. His not seeing it showed the state he + was in. The sister of Mrs. Pollington, an amiable widow, relict of a large + City warehouse, named Barcop, was chilled by a falling off in his + attentions. His apology for not appearing at garden parties was, that he + was engaged to wait on Lady Camper. + </p> + <p> + And at one time, her not condescending to exchange visits with the + obsequious General was a topic fertile in irony. But she did condescend. + Lady Camper came to his gate unexpectedly, rang the bell, and was let in + like an ordinary visitor. It happened that the General was gardening—not + the pretty occupation of pruning—he was digging—and of + necessity his coat was off, and he was hot, dusty, unpresentable. From + adoring earth as the mother of roses, you may pass into a lady’s presence + without purification; you cannot (or so the General thought) when you are + caught in the act of adoring the mother of cabbages. And though he himself + loved the cabbage equally with the rose, in his heart respected the + vegetable yet more than he esteemed the flower, for he gloried in his + kitchen garden, this was not a secret for the world to know, and he almost + heeled over on his beam ends when word was brought of the extreme honour + Lady Camper had done him. He worked his arms hurriedly into his fatigue + jacket, trusting to get away to the house and spend a couple of minutes on + his adornment; and with any other visitor it might have been accomplished, + but Lady Camper disliked sitting alone in a room. She was on the square of + lawn as the General stole along the walk. Had she kept her back to him, he + might have rounded her like the shadow of a dial, undetected. She was + frightfully acute of hearing. She turned while he was in the agony of + hesitation, in a queer attitude, one leg on the march, projected by a + frenzied tip-toe of the hinder leg, the very fatallest moment she could + possibly have selected for unveiling him. + </p> + <p> + Of course there was no choice but to surrender on the spot. + </p> + <p> + He began to squander his dizzy wits in profuse apologies. Lady Camper + simply spoke of the nice little nest of a garden, smelt the flowers, + accepted a Niel rose and a Rohan, a Cline, a Falcot, and La France. + </p> + <p> + ‘A beautiful rose indeed,’ she said of the latter, ‘only it smells of + macassar oil.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Really, it never struck me, I say it never struck me before,’ rejoined + the General, smelling it as at a pinch of snuff. ‘I was saying, I always + ....’ And he tacitly, with the absurdest of smiles, begged permission to + leave unterminated a sentence not in itself particularly difficult + </p> + <p> + ‘I have a nose,’ observed Lady Camper. + </p> + <p> + Like the nobly-bred person she was, according to General Ople’s version of + the interview on his estate, when he stood before her in his gardening + costume, she put him at his ease, or she exerted herself to do so; and if + he underwent considerable anguish, it was the fault of his excessive + scrupulousness regarding dress, propriety, appearance. + </p> + <p> + He conducted her at her request to the kitchen garden and the handful of + paddock, the stables and coach-house, then back to the lawn. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is the home for a young couple,’ she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am no longer young,’ the General bowed, with the sigh peculiar to this + confession. ‘I say, I am no longer young, but I call the place a + gentlemanly residence. I was saying, I...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, yes!’ Lady Camper tossed her head, half closing her eyes, with a + contraction of the brows, as if in pain. + </p> + <p> + He perceived a similar expression whenever he spoke of his residence. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it recalled happier days to enter such a nest. Perhaps it had been + such a home for a young couple that she had entered on her marriage with + Sir Scrope Camper, before he inherited his title and estates. + </p> + <p> + The General was at a loss to conceive what it was. + </p> + <p> + It recurred at another mention of his idea of the nature of the residence. + It was almost a paroxysm. He determined not to vex her reminiscences + again; and as this resolution directed his mind to his residence, thinking + it pre-eminently gentlemanly, his tongue committed the error of repeating + it, with ‘gentleman-like’ for a variation. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth was out—he knew not where. The housemaid informed him, + that Miss Elizabeth was out rowing on the water. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is she alone?’ Lady Camper inquired of him. + </p> + <p> + ‘I fancy so,’ the General replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘The poor child has no mother.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It has been a sad loss to us both, Lady Camper.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No doubt. She is too pretty to go out alone.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can trust her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Girls!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She has the spirit of a man.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is well. She has a spirit; it will be tried.’ + </p> + <p> + The General modestly furnished an instance or two of her spiritedness. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper seemed to like this theme; she looked graciously interested. + </p> + <p> + ‘Still, you should not suffer her to go out alone,’ she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘I place implicit confidence in her,’ said the General; and Lady Camper + gave it up. + </p> + <p> + She proposed to walk down the lanes to the river-side, to meet Elizabeth + returning. + </p> + <p> + The General manifested alacrity checked by reluctance. Lady Camper had + told him she objected to sit in a strange room by herself; after that, he + could hardly leave her to dash upstairs to change his clothes; yet how, + attired as he was, in a fatigue jacket, that warned him not to imagine his + back view, and held him constantly a little to the rear of Lady Camper, + lest she should be troubled by it;—and he knew the habit of the + second rank to criticise the front—how consent to face the outer + world in such style side by side with the lady he admired? + </p> + <p> + ‘Come,’ said she; and he shot forward a step, looking as if he had missed + fire. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you not coming, General?’ + </p> + <p> + He advanced mechanically. + </p> + <p> + Not a soul met them down the lanes, except a little one, to whom Lady + Camper gave a small silver-piece, because she was a picture. + </p> + <p> + The act of charity sank into the General’s heart, as any pretty + performance will do upon a warm waxen bed. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper surprised him by answering his thoughts. ‘No; it’s for my own + pleasure.’ + </p> + <p> + Presently she said, ‘Here they are.’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople beheld his daughter by the river-side at the end of the lane, + under escort of Mr. Reginald Rolles. + </p> + <p> + It was another picture, and a pleasing one. The young lady and the young + gentleman wore boating hats, and were both dressed in white, and standing + by or just turning from the outrigger and light skiff they were about to + leave in charge of a waterman. Elizabeth stretched a finger at + arm’s-length, issuing directions, which Mr. Rolles took up and worded + further to the man, for the sake of emphasis; and he, rather than + Elizabeth, was guilty of the half-start at sight of the persons who were + approaching. + </p> + <p> + ‘My nephew, you should know, is intended for a working soldier,’ said Lady + Camper; ‘I like that sort of soldier best.’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople drooped his shoulders at the personal compliment. + </p> + <p> + She resumed. ‘His pay is a matter of importance to him. You are aware of + the smallness of a subaltern’s pay. + </p> + <p> + ‘I,’ said the General, ‘I say I feel my poor half-pay, having always been + a working soldier myself, very important, I was saying, very important to + me!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why did you retire?’ + </p> + <p> + Her interest in him seemed promising. He replied conscientiously, ‘Beyond + the duties of General of Brigade, I could not, I say I could not, dare to + aspire; I can accept and execute orders; I shrink from responsibility!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is a pity,’ said she, ‘that you were not, like my nephew Reginald, + entirely dependent on your profession.’ + </p> + <p> + She laid such stress on her remark, that the General, who had just + expressed a very modest estimate of his abilities, was unable to reject + the flattery of her assuming him to be a man of some fortune. He coughed, + and said, ‘Very little.’ The thought came to him that he might have to + make a statement to her in time, and he emphasized, ‘Very little indeed. + Sufficient,’ he assured her, ‘for a gentlemanly appearance.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have given you your warning,’ was her inscrutable rejoinder, uttered + within earshot of the young people, to whom, especially to Elizabeth, she + was gracious. The damsel’s boating uniform was praised, and her sunny + flush of exercise and exposure. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper regretted that she could not abandon her parasol: ‘I freckle + so easily.’ + </p> + <p> + The General, puzzling over her strange words about a warning, gazed at the + red rose of art on her cheek with an air of profound abstraction. + </p> + <p> + ‘I freckle so easily,’ she repeated, dropping her parasol to defend her + face from the calculating scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + ‘I burn brown,’ said Elizabeth. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper laid the bud of a Falcot rose against the young girl’s cheek, + but fetched streams of colour, that overwhelmed the momentary comparison + of the sunswarthed skin with the rich dusky yellow of the rose in its + deepening inward to soft brown. + </p> + <p> + Reginald stretched his hand for the privileged flower, and she let him + take it; then she looked at the General; but the General was looking, with + his usual air of satisfaction, nowhere. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + ‘Lady Camper is no common enigma,’ General Ople observed to his daughter. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth inclined to be pleased with her, for at her suggestion the + General had bought a couple of horses, that she might ride in the park, + accompanied by her father or the little groom. Still, the great lady was + hard to read. She tested the resources of his income by all sorts of + instigation to expenditure, which his gallantry could not withstand; she + encouraged him to talk of his deeds in arms; she was friendly, almost + affectionate, and most bountiful in the presents of fruit, peaches, + nectarines, grapes, and hot-house wonders, that she showered on his table; + but she was an enigma in her evident dissatisfaction with him for + something he seemed to have left unsaid. And what could that be? + </p> + <p> + At their last interview she had asked him, ‘Are you sure, General, you + have nothing more to tell me?’ + </p> + <p> + And as he remarked, when relating it to Elizabeth, ‘One might really be + tempted to misapprehend her ladyship’s... I say one might commit oneself + beyond recovery. Now, my dear, what do you think she intended?’ + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth was ‘burning brown,’ or darkly blushing, as her manner was. + </p> + <p> + She answered, ‘I am certain you know of nothing that would interest her; + nothing, unless...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well?’ the General urged her. + </p> + <p> + ‘How can I speak it, papa?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You really can’t mean...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Papa, what could I mean?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If I were fool enough!’ he murmured. ‘No, no, I am an old man. I was + saying, I am past the age of folly.’ + </p> + <p> + One day Elizabeth came home from her ride in a thoughtful mood. She had + not, further than has been mentioned, incited her father to think of the + age of folly; but voluntarily or not, Lady Camper had, by an excess of + graciousness amounting to downright invitation; as thus, ‘Will you persist + in withholding your confidence from me, General?’ She added, ‘I am not so + difficult a person.’ These prompting speeches occurred on the morning of + the day when Elizabeth sat at his table, after a long ride into the + country, profoundly meditative. + </p> + <p> + A note was handed to General Ople, with the request that he would step in + to speak with Lady Camper in the course of the evening, or next morning. + Elizabeth waited till his hat was on, then said, ‘Papa, on my ride to-day, + I met Mr. Rolles.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am glad you had an agreeable escort, my dear.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I could not refuse his company.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Certainly not. And where did you ride?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To a beautiful valley; and there we met.... ‘ + </p> + <p> + ‘Her ladyship?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She always admires you on horseback.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So you know it, papa, if she should speak of it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And I am bound to tell you, my child,’ said the General, ‘that this + morning Lady Camper’s manner to me was... if I were a fool... I say, this + morning I beat a retreat, but apparently she... I see no way out of it, + supposing she...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure she esteems you, dear papa,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You take to her, + my dear?’ the General inquired anxiously; ‘a little?—a little afraid + of her?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A little,’ Elizabeth replied, ‘only a little.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t be agitated about me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, papa; you are sure to do right.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But you are trembling.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! no. I wish you success.’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople was overjoyed to be reinforced by his daughter’s good wishes. + He kissed her to thank her. He turned back to her to kiss her again. She + had greatly lightened the difficulty at least of a delicate position. + </p> + <p> + It was just like the imperious nature of Lady Camper to summon him in the + evening to terminate the conversation of the morning, from the visible + pitfall of which he had beaten a rather precipitate retreat. But if his + daughter cordially wished him success, and Lady Camper offered him the + crown of it, why then he had only to pluck up spirit, like a good + commander who has to pass a fordable river in the enemy’s presence; a + dash, a splash, a rattling volley or two, and you are over, established on + the opposite bank. But you must be positive of victory, otherwise, with + the river behind you, your new position is likely to be ticklish. So the + General entered Lady Camper’s drawing-room warily, watching the fair + enemy. He knew he was captivating, his old conquests whispered in his + ears, and her reception of him all but pointed to a footstool at her feet. + He might have fallen there at once, had he not remembered a hint that Mr. + Reginald Rolles had dropped concerning Lady Camper’s amazing variability. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper began. + </p> + <p> + ‘General, you ran away from me this morning. Let me speak. And, by the + way, I must reproach you; you should not have left it to me. Things have + now gone so far that I cannot pretend to be blind. I know your feelings as + a father. Your daughter’s happiness...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My lady,’ the General interposed, ‘I have her distinct assurance that it + is, I say it is wrapt up in mine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let me speak. Young people will say anything. Well, they have a certain + excuse for selfishness; we have not. I am in some degree bound to my + nephew; he is my sister’s son.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Assuredly, my lady. I would not stand in his light, be quite assured. If + I am, I was saying if I am not mistaken, I... and he is, or has the making + of an excellent soldier in him, and is likely to be a distinguished + cavalry officer.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He has to carve his own way in the world, General.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All good soldiers have, my lady. And if my position is not, after a + considerable term of service, I say if...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To continue,’ said Lady Camper: ‘I never have liked early marriages. I + was married in my teens before I knew men. Now I do know them, and + now....’ + </p> + <p> + The General plunged forward: ‘The honour you do us now:—a mature + experience is worth:—my dear Lady Camper, I have admired you:—and + your objection to early marriages cannot apply to... indeed, madam, + vigour, they say... though youth, of course... yet young people, as you + observe... and I have, though perhaps my reputation is against it, I was + saying I have a natural timidity with your sex, and I am grey-headed, + white-headed, but happily without a single malady.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper’s brows showed a trifling bewilderment. ‘I am speaking of + these young people, General Ople.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I consent to everything beforehand, my dear lady. He should be, I say Mr. + Rolles should be provided for.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So should she, General, so should Elizabeth.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She shall be, she will, dear madam. What I have, with your permission, if—good + heaven! Lady Camper, I scarcely know where I am. She would .... I shall + not like to lose her: you would not wish it. In time she will.... she has + every quality of a good wife.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There, stay there, and be intelligible,’ said Lady Camper. ‘She has every + quality. Money should be one of them. Has she money?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! my lady,’ the General exclaimed, ‘we shall not come upon your purse + when her time comes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Has she ten thousand pounds?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Elizabeth? She will have, at her father’s death... but as for my income, + it is moderate, and only sufficient to maintain a gentlemanly appearance + in proper self-respect. I make no show. I say I make no show. A wealthy + marriage is the last thing on earth I should have aimed at. I prefer quiet + and retirement. Personally, I mean. That is my personal taste. But if the + lady... I say if it should happen that the lady ... and indeed I am not + one to press a suit: but if she who distinguishes and honours me should + chance to be wealthy, all I can do is to leave her wealth at her disposal, + and that I do: I do that unreservedly. I feel I am very confused, + alarmingly confused. Your ladyship merits a superior... I trust I have + not... I am entirely at your ladyship’s mercy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you prepared, if your daughter is asked in marriage, to settle ten + thousand pounds on her, General Ople?’ + </p> + <p> + The General collected himself. In his heart he thoroughly appreciated the + moral beauty of Lady Camper’s extreme solicitude on behalf of his + daughter’s provision; but he would have desired a postponement of that and + other material questions belonging to a distant future until his own fate + was decided. + </p> + <p> + So he said: ‘Your ladyship’s generosity is very marked. I say it is very + marked.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How, my good General Ople! how is it marked in any degree?’ cried Lady + Camper. ‘I am not generous. I don’t pretend to be; and certainly I don’t + want the young people to think me so. I want to be just. I have assumed + that you intend to be the same. Then will you do me the favour to reply to + me?’ + </p> + <p> + The General smiled winningly and intently, to show her that he prized her, + and would not let her escape his eulogies. + </p> + <p> + ‘Marked, in this way, dear madam, that you think of my daughter’s future + more than I. I say, more than her father himself does. I know I ought to + speak more warmly, I feel warmly. I was never an eloquent man, and if you + take me as a soldier, I am, as, I have ever been in the service, I was + saying I am Wilson Ople, of the grade of General, to be relied on for + executing orders; and, madam, you are Lady Camper, and you command me. I + cannot be more precise. In fact, it is the feeling of the necessity for + keeping close to the business that destroys what I would say. I am in fact + lamentably incompetent to conduct my own case.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper left her chair. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear me, this is very strange, unless I am singularly in error,’ she + said. + </p> + <p> + The General now faintly guessed that he might be in error, for his part. + </p> + <p> + But he had burned his ships, blown up his bridges; retreat could not be + thought of. + </p> + <p> + He stood, his head bent and appealing to her sideface, like one pleadingly + in pursuit, and very deferentially, with a courteous vehemence, he + entreated first her ladyship’s pardon for his presumption, and then the + gift of her ladyship’s hand. + </p> + <p> + As for his language, it was the tongue of General Ople. But his bearing + was fine. If his clipped white silken hair spoke of age, his figure + breathed manliness. He was a picture, and she loved pictures. + </p> + <p> + For his own sake, she begged him to cease. She dreaded to hear of + something ‘gentlemanly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This is a new idea to me, my dear General,’ she said. ‘You must give me + time. People at our age have to think of fitness. Of course, in a sense, + we are both free to do as we like. Perhaps I may be of some aid to you. My + preference is for absolute independence. And I wished to talk of a + different affair. Come to me tomorrow. Do not be hurt if I decide that we + had better remain as we are.’ + </p> + <p> + The General bowed. His efforts, and the wavering of the fair enemy’s flag, + had inspired him with a positive re-awakening of masculine passion to gain + this fortress. He said well: ‘I have, then, the happiness, madam, of being + allowed to hope until to-morrrow?’ + </p> + <p> + She replied, ‘I would not deprive you of a moment of happiness. Bring good + sense with you when you do come.’ + </p> + <p> + The General asked eagerly, ‘I have your ladyship’s permission to come + early?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Consult your happiness,’ she answered; and if to his mind she seemed + returning to the state of enigma, it was on the whole deliciously. She + restored him his youth. He told Elizabeth that night; he really must begin + to think of marrying her to some worthy young fellow. ‘Though,’ said he, + with an air of frank intoxication, ‘my opinion is, the young ones are not + so lively as the old in these days, or I should have been besieged before + now.’ + </p> + <p> + The exact substance of the interview he forbore to relate to his + inquisitive daughter, with a very honourable discretion. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Elizabeth came riding home to breakfast from a gallop round the park, and + passing Lady Camper’s gates, received the salutation of her parasol. Lady + Camper talked with her through the bars. There was not a sign to tell of a + change or twist in her neighbourly affability. She remarked simply enough, + that it was her nephew’s habit to take early gallops, and possibly + Elizabeth might have seen him, for his quarters were proximate; but she + did not demand an answer. She had passed a rather restless night, she + said. ‘How is the General?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Papa must have slept soundly, for he usually calls to me through his door + when he hears I am up,’ said Elizabeth. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper nodded kindly and walked on. + </p> + <p> + Early in the morning General Ople was ready for battle. His forces were, + the anticipation of victory, a carefully arranged toilet, and an + unaccustomed spirit of enterprise in the realms of speech; for he was no + longer in such awe of Lady Camper. + </p> + <p> + ‘You have slept well?’ she inquired. + </p> + <p> + ‘Excellently, my lady: + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, your daughter tells me she heard you, as she went by your door in + the morning for a ride to meet my nephew. You are, I shall assume, + prepared for business.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Elizabeth?... to meet...?’ General Ople’s impression of anything + extraneous to his emotion was feeble and passed instantly. ‘Prepared! Oh, + certainly’; and he struck in a compliment on her ladyship’s fresh morning + bloom. + </p> + <p> + ‘It can hardly be visible,’ she responded; ‘I have not painted yet.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Does your ladyship proceed to your painting in the very early morning?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Rouge. I rouge.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear me! I should not have supposed it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You have speculated on it very openly, General. I remember your trying to + see a freckle through the rouge; but the truth is, I am of a supernatural + paleness if I do not rouge, so I do. You understand, therefore, I have a + false complexion. Now to business.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If your ladyship insists on calling it business. I have little to offer—myself!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You have a gentlemanly residence.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is, my lady, it is. It is a bijou.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ Lady Camper sighed dejectedly. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is a perfect bijou!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oblige me, General, by not pronouncing the French word as if you were + swearing by something in English, like a trooper.’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople started, admitted that the word was French, and apologized + for his pronunciation. Her variability was now visible over a corner of + the battlefield like a thunder-cloud. + </p> + <p> + ‘The business we have to discuss concerns the young people, General.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ brightened by this, he assented: ‘Yes, dear Lady Camper; it is a + part of the business; it is a secondary part; it has to be discussed; I + say I subscribe beforehand. I may say, that honouring, esteeming you as I + do, and hoping ardently for your consent.... + </p> + <p> + ‘They must have a home and an income, General.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I presume, dearest lady, that Elizabeth will be welcome in your home. I + certainly shall never chase Reginald out of mine.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper threw back her head. ‘Then you are not yet awake, or you + practice the art of sleeping with open eyes! Now listen to me. I rouge, I + have told you. I like colour, and I do not like to see wrinkles or have + them seen. Therefore I rouge. I do not expect to deceive the world so + flagrantly as to my age, and you I would not deceive for a moment. I am + seventy.’ + </p> + <p> + The effect of this noble frankness on the General, was to raise him from + his chair in a sitting posture as if he had been blown up. + </p> + <p> + Her countenance was inexorably imperturbable under his alternate blinking + and gazing that drew her close and shot her distant, like a mysterious + toy. + </p> + <p> + ‘But,’ said she, ‘I am an artist; I dislike the look of extreme age, so I + conceal it as well as I can. You are very kind to fall in with the + deception: an innocent and, I think, a proper one, before the world, + though not to the gentleman who does me the honour to propose to me for my + hand. You desire to settle our business first. You esteem me; I suppose + you mean as much as young people mean when they say they love. Do you? Let + us come to an understanding.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can,’ the melancholy General gasped, ‘I say I can—I cannot—I + cannot credit your ladyship’s...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are at liberty to call me Angela.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ange...’ he tried it, and in shame relapsed. ‘Madam, yes. Thanks.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah,’ cried Lady Camper, ‘do not use these vulgar contractions of decent + speech in my presence. I abhor the word “thanks.” It is fit for fribbles.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear me, I have used it all my life,’ groaned the General. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then, for the remainder, be it understood that you renounce it. To + continue, my age is...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, impossible, impossible,’ the General almost wailed; there was really + a crack in his voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘Advancing to seventy. But, like you, I am happy to say I have not a + malady. I bring no invalid frame to a union that necessitates the leaving + of the front door open day and night to the doctor. My belief is, I could + follow my husband still on a campaign, if he were a warrior instead of a + pensioner.’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople winced. + </p> + <p> + He was about to say humbly, ‘As General of Brigade...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, yes, you want a commanding officer, and that I have seen, and that + has caused me to meditate on your proposal,’ she interrupted him; while + he, studying her countenance hard, with the painful aspect of a youth who + lashes a donkey memory in an examination by word of mouth, attempted to + marshal her signs of younger years against her awful confession of the + extremely ancient, the witheringly ancient. But for the manifest rouge, + manifest in spite of her declaration that she had not yet that morning + proceeded to her paintbrush, he would have thrown down his glove to + challenge her on the subject of her age. She had actually charms. Her + mouth had a charm; her eyes were lively; her figure, mature if you like, + was at least full and good; she stood upright, she had a queenly seat. His + mental ejaculation was, ‘What a wonderful constitution!’ + </p> + <p> + By a lapse of politeness, he repeated it to himself half aloud; he was + shockingly nervous. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I have finer health than many a younger woman,’ she said. ‘An + ordinary calculation would give me twenty good years to come. I am a + widow, as you know. And, by the way, you have a leaning for widows. Have + you not? I thought I had heard of a widow Barcop in this parish. Do not + protest. I assure you I am a stranger to jealousy. My income...’ + </p> + <p> + The General raised his hands. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, then,’ said the cool and self-contained lady, ‘before I go farther, + I may ask you, knowing what you have forced me to confess, are you still + of the same mind as to marriage? And one moment, General. I promise you + most sincerely that your withdrawing a step shall not, as far as it + touches me, affect my neighbourly and friendly sentiments; not in any + degree. Shall we be as we were?’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper extended her delicate hand to him. + </p> + <p> + He took it respectfully, inspected the aristocratic and unshrunken + fingers, and kissing them, said, ‘I never withdraw from a position, unless + I am beaten back. Lady Camper, I...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My name is Angela.’ + </p> + <p> + The General tried again: he could not utter the name. + </p> + <p> + To call a lady of seventy Angela is difficult in itself. It is, it seems, + thrice difficult in the way of courtship. + </p> + <p> + ‘Angela!’ said she. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes. I say, there is not a more beautiful female name, dear Lady Camper.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Spare me that word “female” as long as you live. Address me by that name, + if you please.’ + </p> + <p> + The General smiled. The smile was meant for propitiation and sweetness. It + became a brazen smile. + </p> + <p> + ‘Unless you wish to step back,’ said she. + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed, no. I am happy, Lady Camper. My life is yours. I say, my life is + devoted to you, dear madam.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Angela!’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople was blushingly delivered of the name. + </p> + <p> + ‘That will do,’ said she. ‘And as I think it possible one may be admired + too much as an artist, I must request you to keep my number of years a + secret.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To the death, madam,’ said the General. + </p> + <p> + ‘And now we will take a turn in the garden, Wilson Ople. And beware of one + thing, for a commencement, for you are full of weeds, and I mean to pluck + out a few: never call any place a gentlemanly residence in my hearing, nor + let it come to my ears that you have been using the phrase elsewhere. + Don’t express astonishment. At present it is enough that I dislike it. But + this only,’ Lady Camper added, ‘this only if it is not your intention to + withdraw from your position.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Madam, my lady, I was saying—hem!—Angela, I could not wish to + withdraw.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper leaned with some pressure on his arm, observing, ‘You have a + curious attachment to antiquities.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear lady, it is your mind; I say, it is your mind: I was saying, I am + in love with your mind,’ the General endeavoured to assure her, and + himself too. + </p> + <p> + ‘Or is it my powers as an artist?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Your mind, your extraordinary powers of mind.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said Lady Camper, ‘a veteran General of Brigade is as good a + crutch as a childless old grannam can have.’ + </p> + <p> + And as a crutch, General Ople, parading her grounds with the aged woman, + found himself used and treated. + </p> + <p> + The accuracy of his perceptions might be questioned. He was like a man + stunned by some great tropical fruit, which responds to the longing of his + eyes by falling on his head; but it appeared to him, that she increased in + bitterness at every step they took, as if determined to make him realize + her wrinkles. + </p> + <p> + He was even so inconsequent, or so little recognized his position, as to + object in his heart to hear himself called Wilson. + </p> + <p> + It is true that she uttered Wilsonople as if the names formed one word. + And on a second occasion (when he inclined to feel hurt) she remarked, ‘I + fear me, Wilsonople, if we are to speak plainly, thou art but a fool.’ He, + perhaps, naturally objected to that. He was, however, giddy, and barely + knew. + </p> + <p> + Yet once more the magical woman changed. All semblance of harshness, and + harridan-like spike-tonguedness vanished when she said adieu. + </p> + <p> + The astronomer, looking at the crusty jag and scoria of the magnified moon + through his telescope, and again with naked eyes at the soft-beaming moon, + when the crater-ridges are faint as eyebrow-pencillings, has a similar + sharp alternation of prospect to that which mystified General Ople. + </p> + <p> + But between watching an orb that is only variable at our caprice, and + contemplating a woman who shifts and quivers ever with her own, how vast + the difference! + </p> + <p> + And consider that this woman is about to be one’s wife! He could have + believed (if he had not known full surely that such things are not) he was + in the hands of a witch. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper’s ‘adieu’ was perfectly beautiful—a kind, cordial, + intimate, above all, to satisfy his present craving, it was a lady-like + adieu—the adieu of a delicate and elegant woman, who had hardly left + her anchorage by forty to sail into the fifties. + </p> + <p> + Alas! he had her word for it, that she was not less than seventy. And, + worse, she had betrayed most melancholy signs of sourness and agedness as + soon as he had sworn himself to her fast and fixed. + </p> + <p> + ‘The road is open to you to retreat,’ were her last words. + </p> + <p> + ‘My road,’ he answered gallantly, ‘is forward.’ + </p> + <p> + He was drawing backward as he said it, and something provoked her to + smile. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + It is a noble thing to say that your road is forward, and it befits a man + of battles. General Ople was too loyal a gentleman to think of any other + road. Still, albeit not gifted with imagination, he could not avoid the + feeling that he had set his face to Winter. He found himself suddenly + walking straight into the heart of Winter, and a nipping Winter. For her + ladyship had proved acutely nipping. His little customary phrases, to + which Lady Camper objected, he could see no harm in whatever. Conversing + with her in the privacy of domestic life would never be the flowing + business that it is for other men. It would demand perpetual vigilance, + hop, skip, jump, flounderings, and apologies. + </p> + <p> + This was not a pleasing prospect. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, she was the niece of an earl. She was wealthy. She + might be an excellent friend to Elizabeth; and she could be, when she + liked, both commandingly and bewitchingly ladylike. + </p> + <p> + Good! But he was a General Officer of not more than fifty-five, in his + full vigour, and she a woman of seventy! + </p> + <p> + The prospect was bleak. It resembled an outlook on the steppes. In point + of the discipline he was to expect, he might be compared to a raw recruit, + and in his own home! + </p> + <p> + However, she was a woman of mind. One would be proud of her. + </p> + <p> + But did he know the worst of her? A dreadful presentiment, that he did not + know the worst of her, rolled an ocean of gloom upon General Ople, + striking out one solitary thought in the obscurity, namely, that he was + about to receive punishment for retiring from active service to a life of + ease at a comparatively early age, when still in marching trim. And the + shadow of the thought was, that he deserved the punishment! + </p> + <p> + He was in his garden with the dawn. Hard exercise is the best of opiates + for dismal reflections. The General discomposed his daughter by offering + to accompany her on her morning ride before breakfast. She considered that + it would fatigue him. ‘I am not a man of eighty!’ he cried. He could have + wished he had been. + </p> + <p> + He led the way to the park, where they soon had sight of young Rolles, who + checked his horse and spied them like a vedette, but, perceiving that he + had been seen, came cantering, and hailing the General with hearty + wonderment. + </p> + <p> + ‘And what’s this the world says, General?’ said he. ‘But we all applaud + your taste. My aunt Angela was the handsomest woman of her time.’ + </p> + <p> + The General murmured in confusion, ‘Dear me!’ and looked at the young man, + thinking that he could not have known the time. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is all arranged, my dear General?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing is arranged, and I beg—I say I beg... I came out for fresh + air and pace.’.. + </p> + <p> + The General rode frantically. + </p> + <p> + In spite of the fresh air, he was unable to eat at breakfast. He was + bound, of course, to present himself to Lady Camper, in common civility, + immediately after it. + </p> + <p> + And first, what were the phrases he had to avoid uttering in her presence? + He could remember only the ‘gentlemanly residence.’ And it was a + gentlemanly residence, he thought as he took leave of it. It was one, + neatly named to fit the place. Lady Camper is indeed a most eccentric + person! he decided from his experience of her. + </p> + <p> + He was rather astonished that young Rolles should have spoken so coolly of + his aunt’s leaning to matrimony; but perhaps her exact age was unknown to + the younger members of her family. + </p> + <p> + This idea refreshed him by suggesting the extremely honourable nature of + Lady Camper’s uncomfortable confession. + </p> + <p> + He himself had an uncomfortable confession to make. He would have to speak + of his income. He was living up to the edges of it. + </p> + <p> + She is an upright woman, and I must be the same! he said, fortunately not + in her hearing. + </p> + <p> + The subject was disagreeable to a man sensitive on the topic of money, and + feeling that his prudence had recently been misled to keep up appearances. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper was in her garden, reclining under her parasol. A chair was + beside her, to which, acknowledging the salutation of her suitor, she + waved him. + </p> + <p> + ‘You have met my nephew Reginald this morning, General?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Curiously, in the park, this morning, before breakfast, I did, yes. Hem! + I, I say I did meet him. Has your ladyship seen him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No. The park is very pretty in the early morning.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sweetly pretty.’ + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper raised her head, and with the mildness of assured + dictatorship, pronounced: ‘Never say that before me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I submit, my lady,’ said the poor scourged man. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, naturally you do. Vulgar phrases have to be endured, except when our + intimates are guilty, and then we are not merely offended, we are + compromised by them. You are still of the mind in which you left me + yesterday? You are one day older. But I warn you, so am I.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, my lady, we cannot, I say we cannot check time. Decidedly of the + same mind. Quite so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oblige me by never saying “Quite so.” My lawyer says it. It reeks of the + City of London. And do not look so miserable.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I, madam? my dear lady!’ the General flashed out in a radiance that + dulled instantly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said she cheerfully, ‘and you’re for the old woman?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For Lady Camper.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are seductive in your flatteries, General. Well, then, we have to + speak of business.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My affairs——’ General Ople was beginning, with perturbed + forehead; but Lady Camper held up her finger. + </p> + <p> + ‘We will touch on your affairs incidentally. Now listen to me, and do not + exclaim until I have finished. You know that these two young ones have + been whispering over the wall for some months. They have been meeting on + the river and in the park habitually, apparently with your consent.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My lady!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I did not say with your connivance.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You mean my daughter Elizabeth?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And my nephew Reginald. We have named them, if that advances us. Now, the + end of such meetings is marriage, and the sooner the better, if they are + to continue. I would rather they should not; I do not hold it good for + young soldiers to marry. But if they do, it is very certain that their pay + will not support a family; and in a marriage of two healthy young people, + we have to assume the existence of the family. You have allowed matters to + go so far that the boy is hot in love; I suppose the girl is, too. She is + a nice girl. I do not object to her personally. But I insist that a + settlement be made on her before I give my nephew one penny. Hear me out, + for I am not fond of business, and shall be glad to have done with these + explanations. Reginald has nothing of his own. He is my sister’s son, and + I loved her, and rather like the boy. He has at present four hundred a + year from me. I will double it, on the condition that you at once make + over ten thousand—not less; and let it be yes or no!—to be + settled on your daughter and go to her children, independent of the + husband—cela va sans dire. Now you may speak, General.’ + </p> + <p> + The General spoke, with breath fetched from the deeps: + </p> + <p> + ‘Ten thousand pounds! Hem! Ten! Hem, frankly—ten, my lady! One’s + income—I am quite taken by surprise. I say Elizabeth’s conduct—though, + poor child! it is natural to her to seek a mate, I mean, to accept a mate + and an establishment, and Reginald is a very hopeful fellow—I was + saying, they jump on me out of an ambush, and I wish them every happiness. + And she is an ardent soldier, and a soldier she must marry. But ten + thousand!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is to secure the happiness of your daughter, General.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Pounds! my lady. It would rather cripple me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You would have my house, General; you would have the moiety, as the + lawyers say, of my purse; you would have horses, carriages, servants; I do + not divine what more you would wish to have.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, madam—a pensioner on the Government! I can look back on past + services, I say old services, and I accept my position. But, madam, a + pensioner on my wife, bringing next to nothing to the common estate! I + fear my self-respect would, I say would...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, and what would it do, General Ople?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I was saying, my self-respect as my wife’s pensioner, my lady. I could + not come to her empty-handed.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you expect that I should be the person to settle money on your + daughter, to save her from mischances? A rakish husband, for example; for + Reginald is young, and no one can guess what will be made of him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Undoubtedly your ladyship is correct. We might try absence for the poor + girl. I have no female relation, but I could send her to the sea-side to a + lady-friend.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘General Ople, I forbid you, as you value my esteem, ever—and I + repeat, I forbid you ever—to afflict my ears with that phrase, + “lady-friend!”’ + </p> + <p> + The General blinked in a state of insurgent humility. + </p> + <p> + These incessant whippings could not but sting the humblest of men; and + ‘lady-friend,’ he was sure, was a very common term, used, he was sure, in + the very best society. He had never heard Her Majesty speak at levees of a + lady-friend, but he was quite sure that she had one; and if so, what could + be the objection to her subjects mentioning it as a term to suit their own + circumstances? + </p> + <p> + He was harassed and perplexed by old Lady Camper’s treatment of him, and + he resolved not to call her Angela even upon supplication—not that + day, at least. + </p> + <p> + She said, ‘You will not need to bring property of any kind to the common + estate; I neither look for it nor desire it. The generous thing for you to + do would be to give your daughter all you have, and come to me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, Lady Camper, if I denude myself or curtail my income—a man at + his wife’s discretion, I was saying a man at his wife’s mercy...!’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople was really forced, by his manly dignity, to make this protest + on its behalf. He did not see how he could have escaped doing so; he was + more an agent than a principal. ‘My wife’s mercy,’ he said again, but + simply as a herald proclaiming superior orders. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper’s brows were wrathful. A deep blood-crimson overcame the + rouge, and gave her a terrible stormy look. + </p> + <p> + ‘The congress now ceases to sit, and the treaty is not concluded,’ was all + she said. + </p> + <p> + She rose, bowed to him, ‘Good morning, General,’ and turned her back. + </p> + <p> + He sighed. He was a free man. But this could not be denied—whatever + the lady’s age, she was a grand woman in her carriage, and when looking + angry, she had a queenlike aspect that raised her out of the reckoning of + time. + </p> + <p> + So now he knew there was a worse behind what he had previously known. He + was precipitate in calling it the worst. ‘Now,’ said he to himself, ‘I + know the worst!’ + </p> + <p> + No man should ever say it. Least of all, one who has entered into + relations with an eccentric lady. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + Politeness required that General Ople should not appear to rejoice in his + dismissal as a suitor, and should at least make some show of holding + himself at the beck of a reconsidering mind. He was guilty of running up + to London early next day, and remaining absent until nightfall; and he did + the same on the two following days. When he presented himself at Lady + Camper’s lodge-gates, the astonishing intelligence, that her ladyship had + departed for the Continent and Egypt gave him qualms of remorse, which + assumed a more definite shape in something like awe of her triumphant + constitution. He forbore to mention her age, for he was the most + honourable of men, but a habit of tea-table talkativeness impelled him to + say and repeat an idea that had visited him, to the effect, that Lady + Camper was one of those wonderful women who are comparable to brilliant + generals, and defend themselves from the siege of Time by various + aggressive movements. Fearful of not being understood, owing to the rarity + of the occasions when the squat plain squad of honest Saxon regulars at + his command were called upon to explain an idea, he re-cast the sentence. + But, as it happened that the regulars of his vocabulary were not numerous, + and not accustomed to work upon thoughts and images, his repetitions + rather succeeded in exposing the piece of knowledge he had recently + acquired than in making his meaning plainer. So we need not marvel that + his acquaintances should suppose him to be secretly aware of an extreme + degree in which Lady Camper was a veteran. + </p> + <p> + General Ople entered into the gaieties of the neighbourhood once more, and + passed through the Winter cheerfully. In justice to him, however, it + should be said that to the intent dwelling of his mind upon Lady Camper, + and not to the festive life he led, was due his entire ignorance of his + daughter’s unhappiness. She lived with him, and yet it was in other houses + he learnt that she was unhappy. After his last interview with Lady Camper, + he had informed Elizabeth of the ruinous and preposterous amount of money + demanded of him for a settlement upon her and Elizabeth, like the girl of + good sense that she was, had replied immediately, ‘It could not be thought + of, papa.’ + </p> + <p> + He had spoken to Reginald likewise. The young man fell into a dramatic + tearing-of-hair and long-stride fury, not ill becoming an enamoured + dragoon. But he maintained that his aunt, though an eccentric, was a + cordially kind woman. He seemed to feel, if he did not partly hint, that + the General might have accepted Lady Camper’s terms. The young officer + could no longer be welcome at Douro Lodge, so the General paid him a + morning call at his quarters, and was distressed to find him breakfasting + very late, tapping eggs that he forgot to open—one of the surest + signs of a young man downright and deep in love, as the General knew from + experience—and surrounded by uncut sporting journals of past weeks, + which dated from the day when his blow had struck him, as accurately as + the watch of the drowned man marks his minute. Lady Camper had gone to + Italy, and was in communication with her nephew: Reginald was not further + explicit. His legs were very prominent in his despair, and his fingers + frequently performed the part of blunt combs; consequently the General was + impressed by his passion for Elizabeth. The girl who, if she was often + meditative, always met his eyes with a smile, and quietly said ‘Yes, + papa,’ and ‘No, papa,’ gave him little concern as to the state of her + feelings. Yet everybody said now that she was unhappy. Mrs. Barcop, the + widow, raised her voice above the rest. So attentive was she to Elizabeth + that the General had it kindly suggested to him, that some one was + courting him through his daughter. He gazed at the widow. Now she was not + much past thirty; and it was really singular—he could have laughed—thinking + of Mrs. Barcop set him persistently thinking of Lady Camper. That is to + say, his mad fancy reverted from the lady of perhaps thirty-five to the + lady of seventy. + </p> + <p> + Such, thought he, is genius in a woman! Of his neighbours generally, Mrs. + Baerens, the wife of a German merchant, an exquisite player on the + pianoforte, was the most inclined to lead him to speak of Lady Camper. She + was a kind prattling woman, and was known to have been a governess before + her charms withdrew the gastronomic Gottfried Baerens from his devotion to + the well-served City club, where, as he exclaimed (ever turning fondly to + his wife as he vocalized the compliment), he had found every necessity, + every luxury, in life, ‘as you cannot have dem out of London—all + save de female!’ Mrs. Baerens, a lady of Teutonic extraction, was + distinguishable as of that sex; at least, she was not masculine. She spoke + with great respect of Lady Camper and her family, and seemed to agree in + the General’s eulogies of Lady Camper’s constitution. Still he thought she + eyed him strangely. + </p> + <p> + One April morning the General received a letter with the Italian postmark. + Opening it with his usual calm and happy curiosity, he perceived that it + was composed of pen-and-ink drawings. And suddenly his heart sank like a + scuttled ship. He saw himself the victim of a caricature. + </p> + <p> + The first sketch had merely seemed picturesque, and he supposed it a + clever play of fancy by some travelling friend, or perhaps an actual scene + slightly exaggerated. Even on reading, ‘A distant view of the city of + Wilsonople,’ he was only slightly enlightened. His heart beat still with + befitting regularity. But the second and the third sketches betrayed the + terrible hand. The distant view of the city of Wilsonople was fair with + glittering domes, which, in the succeeding near view, proved to have been + soap-bubbles, for a place of extreme flatness, begirt with crazy + old-fashioned fortifications, was shown; and in the third view, + representing the interior, stood for sole place of habitation, a + sentry-box. + </p> + <p> + Most minutely drawn, and, alas! with fearful accuracy, a military + gentleman in undress occupied the box. Not a doubt could exist as to the + person it was meant to be. + </p> + <p> + The General tried hard to remain incredulous. He remembered too well who + had called him Wilsonople. + </p> + <p> + But here was the extraordinary thing that sent him over the neighbourhood + canvassing for exclamations: on the fourth page was the outline of a + lovely feminine hand, holding a pen, as in the act of shading, and under + it these words: ‘What I say is, I say I think it exceedingly unladylike.’ + </p> + <p> + Now consider the General’s feelings when, turning to this fourth page, + having these very words in his mouth, as the accurate expression of his + thoughts, he discovered them written! + </p> + <p> + An enemy who anticipates the actions of our mind, has a quality of the + malignant divine that may well inspire terror. The senses of General Ople + were struck by the aspect of a lurid Goddess, who penetrated him, read him + through, and had both power and will to expose and make him ridiculous for + ever. + </p> + <p> + The loveliness of the hand, too, in a perplexing manner contested his + denunciation of her conduct. It was ladylike eminently, and it involved + him in a confused mixture of the moral and material, as great as young + people are known to feel when they make the attempt to separate them, in + one of their frenzies. + </p> + <p> + With a petty bitter laugh he folded the letter, put it in his + breast-pocket, and sallied forth for a walk, chiefly to talk to himself + about it. But as it absorbed him entirely, he showed it to the rector, + whom he met, and what the rector said is of no consequence, for General + Ople listened to no remarks, calling in succession on the Pollingtons, the + Goslings, the Baerens, and others, early though it was, and the lords of + those houses absent amassing hoards; and to the ladies everywhere he + displayed the sketches he had received, observing, that Wilsonople meant + himself; and there he was, he said, pointing at the capped fellow in the + sentry-box, done unmistakably. The likeness indeed was remarkable. ‘She is + a woman of genius,’ he ejaculated, with utter melancholy. Mrs. Baerens, by + the aid of a magnifying glass, assisted him to read a line under the + sentry-box, that he had taken for a mere trembling dash; it ran, A + gentlemanly residence. + </p> + <p> + ‘What eyes she has!’ the General exclaimed; ‘I say it is miraculous what + eyes she has at her time of... I was saying, I should never have known it + was writing.’ + </p> + <p> + He sighed heavily. His shuddering sensitiveness to caricature was + increased by a certain evident dread of the hand which struck; the knowing + that he was absolutely bare to this woman, defenceless, open to exposure + in his little whims, foibles, tricks, incompetencies, in what lay in his + heart, and the words that would come to his tongue. He felt like a man + haunted. + </p> + <p> + So deeply did he feel the blow, that people asked how it was that he could + be so foolish as to dance about assisting Lady Camper in her efforts to + make him ridiculous; he acted the parts of publisher and agent for the + fearful caricaturist. In truth, there was a strangely double reason for + his conduct; he danced about for sympathy, he had the intensest craving + for sympathy, but more than this, or quite as much, he desired to have the + powers of his enemy widely appreciated; in the first place, that he might + be excused to himself for wincing under them, and secondly, because an + awful admiration of her, that should be deepened by a corresponding + sentiment around him, helped him to enjoy luxurious recollections of an + hour when he was near making her his own—his own, in the holy + abstract contemplation of marriage, without realizing their probable + relative conditions after the ceremony. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say, that is the very image of her ladyship’s hand,’ he was especially + fond of remarking, ‘I say it is a beautiful hand.’ + </p> + <p> + He carried the letter in his pocket-book; and beginning to fancy that she + had done her worst, for he could not imagine an inventive malignity + capable of pursuing the theme, he spoke of her treatment of him with + compassionate regret, not badly assumed from being partly sincere. + </p> + <p> + Two letters dated in France, the one Dijon, the other Fontainebleau, + arrived together; and as the General knew Lady Camper to be returning to + England, he expected that she was anxious to excuse herself to him. His + fingers were not so confident, for he tore one of the letters to open it. + </p> + <p> + The City of Wilsonople was recognizable immediately. So likewise was the + sole inhabitant. + </p> + <p> + General Ople’s petty bitter laugh recurred, like a weak-chested patient’s + cough in the shifting of our winds eastward. + </p> + <p> + A faceless woman’s shadow kneels on the ground near the sentry-box, + weeping. A faceless shadow of a young man on horseback is beheld galloping + toward a gulf. The sole inhabitant contemplates his largely substantial + full fleshed face and figure in a glass. + </p> + <p> + Next, we see the standard of Great Britain furled; next, unfurled and + borne by a troop of shadows to the sentry-box. The officer within says, ‘I + say I should be very happy to carry it, but I cannot quit this gentlemanly + residence.’ + </p> + <p> + Next, the standard is shown assailed by popguns. Several of the shadows + are prostrate. ‘I was saying, I assure you that nothing but this + gentlemanly residence prevents me from heading you,’ says the gallant + officer. + </p> + <p> + General Ople trembled with protestant indignation when he saw himself + reclining in a magnified sentry-box, while detachments of shadows hurry to + him to show him the standard of his country trailing in the dust; and he + is maliciously made to say, ‘I dislike responsibility. I say I am a + fervent patriot, and very fond of my comforts, but I shun responsibility.’ + </p> + <p> + The second letter contained scenes between Wilsonople and the Moon. + </p> + <p> + He addresses her as his neighbour, and tells her of his triumphs over the + sex. + </p> + <p> + He requests her to inform him whether she is a ‘female,’ that she may be + triumphed over. + </p> + <p> + He hastens past her window on foot, with his head bent, just as the + General had been in the habit of walking. + </p> + <p> + He drives a mouse-pony furiously by. + </p> + <p> + He cuts down a tree, that she may peep through. + </p> + <p> + Then, from the Moon’s point of view, Wilsonople, a Silenus, is discerned + in an arm-chair winking at a couple too plainly pouting their lips for a + doubt of their intentions to be entertained. + </p> + <p> + A fourth letter arrived, bearing date of Paris. This one illustrated + Wilsonople’s courtship of the Moon, and ended with his ‘saying,’ in his + peculiar manner, ‘In spite of her paint I could not have conceived her age + to be so enormous.’ + </p> + <p> + How break off his engagement with the Lady Moon? Consent to none of her + terms! + </p> + <p> + Little used as he was to read behind a veil, acuteness of suffering + sharpened the General’s intelligence to a degree that sustained him in + animated dialogue with each succeeding sketch, or poisoned arrow whirring + at him from the moment his eyes rested on it; and here are a few samples: + </p> + <p> + ‘Wilsonople informs the Moon that she is “sweetly pretty.” + </p> + <p> + ‘He thanks her with “thanks” for a handsome piece of lunar green cheese. + </p> + <p> + ‘He points to her, apparently telling some one, “my lady-friend.” + </p> + <p> + ‘He sneezes “Bijou! bijou! bijou!”’ + </p> + <p> + They were trifles, but they attacked his habits of speech; and he began to + grow more and more alarmingly absurd in each fresh caricature of his + person. + </p> + <p> + He looked at himself as the malicious woman’s hand had shaped him. It was + unjust; it was no resemblance—and yet it was! There was a corner of + likeness left that leavened the lump; henceforth he must walk abroad with + this distressing image of himself before his eyes, instead of the + satisfactory reflex of the man who had, and was happy in thinking that he + had, done mischief in his time. Such an end for a conquering man was too + pathetic. + </p> + <p> + The General surprised himself talking to himself in something louder than + a hum at neighbours’ dinner-tables. He looked about and noticed that + people were silently watching him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + Lady Camper’s return was the subject of speculation in the neighbourhood, + for most people thought she would cease to persecute the General with her + preposterous and unwarrantable pen-and-ink sketches when living so closely + proximate; and how he would behave was the question. Those who made a hero + of him were sure he would treat her with disdain. Others were uncertain. + He had been so severely hit that it seemed possible he would not show much + spirit. + </p> + <p> + He, for his part, had come to entertain such dread of the post, that Lady + Camper’s return relieved him of his morning apprehensions; and he would + have forgiven her, though he feared to see her, if only she had promised + to leave him in peace for the future. He feared to see her, because of the + too probable furnishing of fresh matter for her ladyship’s hand. Of course + he could not avoid being seen by her, and that was a particular misery. A + gentlemanly humility, or demureness of aspect, when seen, would, he hoped, + disarm his enemy. It should, he thought. He had borne unheard-of things. + No one of his friends and acquaintances knew, they could not know, what he + had endured. It has caused him fits of stammering. It had destroyed the + composure of his gait. Elizabeth had informed him that he talked to + himself incessantly, and aloud. She, poor child, looked pale too. She was + evidently anxious about him. + </p> + <p> + Young Rolles, whom he had met now and then, persisted in praising his + aunt’s good heart. So, perhaps, having satiated her revenge, she might now + be inclined for peace, on the terms of distant civility. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes! poor Elizabeth!’ sighed the General, in pity of the poor girl’s + disappointment; ‘poor Elizabeth! she little guesses what her father has + gone through. Poor child! I say, she hasn’t an idea of my sufferings.’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople delivered his card at Lady Camper’s lodgegates and escaped to + his residence in a state of prickly heat that required the brushing of his + hair with hard brushes for several minutes to comfort and re-establish + him. + </p> + <p> + He had fallen to working in his garden, when Lady Camper’s card was + brought to him an hour after the delivery of his own; a pleasing + promptitude, showing signs of repentance, and suggesting to the General + instantly some sharp sarcasms upon women, which he had come upon in + quotations in the papers and the pulpit, his two main sources of + information. + </p> + <p> + Instead of handing back the card to the maid, he stuck it in his hat and + went on digging. + </p> + <p> + The first of a series of letters containing shameless realistic + caricatures was handed to him the afternoon following. They came fast and + thick. Not a day’s interval of grace was allowed. Niobe under the shafts + of Diana was hardly less violently and mortally assailed. The deadliness + of the attack lay in the ridicule of the daily habits of one of the most + sensitive of men, as to his personal appearance, and the opinion of the + world. He might have concealed the sketches, but he could not have + concealed the bruises, and people were perpetually asking the unhappy + General what he was saying, for he spoke to himself as if he were + repeating something to them for the tenth time. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say,’ said he, ‘I say that for a lady, really an educated lady, to sit, + as she must—I was saying, she must have sat in an attic to have the + right view of me. And there you see—this is what she has done. This + is the last, this is the afternoon’s delivery. Her ladyship has me + correctly as to costume, but I could not exhibit such a sketch to ladies.’ + </p> + <p> + A back view of the General was displayed in his act of digging. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say I could not allow ladies to see it,’ he informed the gentlemen, who + were suffered to inspect it freely. + </p> + <p> + ‘But you see, I have no means of escape; I am at her mercy from morning to + night,’ the General said, with a quivering tongue, ‘unless I stay at home + inside the house; and that is death to me, or unless I abandon the place, + and my lease; and I shall—I say, I shall find nowhere in England for + anything like the money or conveniences such a gent—a residence you + would call fit for a gentleman. I call it a bi... it is, in short, a gem. + But I shall have to go.’ + </p> + <p> + Young Rolles offered to expostulate with his aunt Angela. + </p> + <p> + The General said, ‘Tha... I thank you very much. I would not have her + ladyship suppose I am so susceptible. I hardly know,’ he confessed + pitiably, ‘what it is right to say, and what not—what not. I-I-I + never know when I am not looking a fool. I hurry from tree to tree to shun + the light. I am seriously affected in my appetite. I say, I shall have to + go.’ + </p> + <p> + Reginald gave him to understand that if he flew, the shafts would follow + him, for Lady Camper would never forgive his running away, and was quite + equal to publishing a book of the adventures of Wilsonople. + </p> + <p> + Sunday afternoon, walking in the park with his daughter on his arm, + General Ople met Mr. Rolles. He saw that the young man and Elizabeth were + mortally pale, and as the very idea of wretchedness directed his attention + to himself, he addressed them conjointly on the subject of his + persecution, giving neither of them a chance of speaking until they were + constrained to part. + </p> + <p> + A sketch was the consequence, in which a withered Cupid and a fading + Psyche were seen divided by Wilsonople, who keeps them forcibly asunder + with policeman’s fists, while courteously and elegantly entreating them to + hear him. ‘Meet,’ he tells them, ‘as often as you like, in my company, so + long as you listen to me’; and the pathos of his aspect makes hungry + demand for a sympathetic audience. + </p> + <p> + Now, this, and not the series representing the martyrdom of the old couple + at Douro Lodge Gates, whose rigid frames bore witness to the close packing + of a gentlemanly residence, this was the sketch General Ople, in his + madness from the pursuing bite of the gadfly, handed about at Mrs. + Pollington’s lawn-party. Some have said, that he should not have betrayed + his daughter; but it is reasonable to suppose he had no idea of his + daughter’s being the Psyche. Or if he had, it was indistinct, owing to the + violence of his personal emotion. Assuming this to have been the very + sketch; he handed it to two or three ladies in turn, and was heard to + deliver himself at intervals in the following snatches: ‘As you like, my + lady, as you like; strike, I say strike; I bear it; I say I bear it. ... + If her ladyship is unforgiving, I say I am enduring.... I may go, I was + saying I may go mad, but while I have my reason I walk upright, I walk + upright.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pollington and certain City gentlemen hearing the poor General’s + renewed soliloquies, were seized with disgust of Lady Camper’s conduct, + and stoutly advised an application to the Law Courts. + </p> + <p> + He gave ear to them abstractedly, but after pulling out the whole chapter + of the caricatures (which it seemed that he kept in a case of morocco + leather in his breast-pocket), showing them, with comments on them, and + observing, ‘There will be more, there must be more, I say I am sure there + are things I do that her ladyship will discover and expose,’ he declined + to seek redress or simple protection; and the miserable spectacle was + exhibited soon after of this courtly man listening to Mrs. Barcop on the + weather, and replying in acquiescence: ‘It is hot.—If your ladyship + will only abstain from colours. Very hot as you say, madam,—I do not + complain of pen and ink, but I would rather escape colours. And I dare say + you find it hot too?’ + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Barcop shut her eyes and sighed over the wreck of a handsome military + officer. + </p> + <p> + She asked him: ‘What is your objection to colours?’ + </p> + <p> + His hand was at his breast-pocket immediately, as he said: ‘Have you not + seen?’—though but a few minutes back he had shown her the contents + of the packet, including a hurried glance of the famous digging scene. + </p> + <p> + By this time the entire district was in fervid sympathy with General Ople. + The ladies did not, as their lords did, proclaim astonishment that a man + should suffer a woman to goad him to a state of semi-lunacy; but one or + two confessed to their husbands, that it required a great admiration of + General Ople not to despise him, both for his susceptibility and his + patience. As for the men, they knew him to have faced the balls in + bellowing battle-strife; they knew him to have endured privation, not only + cold but downright want of food and drink—an almost unimaginable + horror to these brave daily feasters; so they could not quite look on him + in contempt; but his want of sense was offensive, and still more so his + submission to a scourging by a woman. Not one of them would have deigned + to feel it. Would they have allowed her to see that she could sting them? + They would have laughed at her. Or they would have dragged her before a + magistrate. + </p> + <p> + It was a Sunday in early Summer when General Ople walked to morning + service, unaccompanied by Elizabeth, who was unwell. The church was of the + considerate old-fashioned order, with deaf square pews, permitting the + mind to abstract itself from the sermon, or wrestle at leisure with the + difficulties presented by the preacher, as General Ople often did, feeling + not a little in love with his sincere attentiveness for grappling with the + knotty point and partially allowing the struggle to be seen. + </p> + <p> + The Church was, besides, a sanctuary for him. Hither his enemy did not + come. He had this one place of refuge, and he almost looked a happy man + again. + </p> + <p> + He had passed into his hat and out of it, which he habitually did + standing, when who should walk up to within a couple of yards of him but + Lady Camper. Her pew was full of poor people, who made signs of retiring. + She signified to them that they were to sit, then quietly took her seat + among them, fronting the General across the aisle. + </p> + <p> + During the sermon a low voice, sharp in contradistinction to the monotone + of the preacher’s, was heard to repeat these words: ‘I say I am not sure I + shall survive it.’ Considerable muttering in the same quarter was heard + besides. + </p> + <p> + After the customary ceremonious game, when all were free to move, of + nobody liking to move first, Lady Camper and a charity boy were the + persons who took the lead. But Lady Camper could not quit her pew, owing + to the sticking of the door. She smiled as with her pretty hand she twice + or thrice essayed to shake it open. General Ople strode to her aid. He + pulled the door, gave the shadow of a respectful bow, and no doubt he + would have withdrawn, had not Lady Camper, while acknowledging the + civility, placed her prayer-book in his hands to carry at her heels. There + was no choice for him. He made a sort of slipping dance back for his hat, + and followed her ladyship. All present being eager to witness the + spectacle, the passage of Lady Camper dragging the victim General behind + her was observed without a stir of the well-dressed members of the + congregation, until a desire overcame them to see how Lady Camper would + behave to her fish when she had him outside the sacred edifice. + </p> + <p> + None could have imagined such a scene. Lady Camper was in her carriage; + General Ople was holding her prayer-book, hat in hand, at the carriage + step, and he looked as if he were toasting before the bars of a furnace; + for while he stood there, Lady Camper was rapidly pencilling outlines in a + small pocket sketchbook. There are dogs whose shyness is put to it to + endure human observation and a direct address to them, even on the part of + their masters; and these dear simple dogs wag tail and turn their heads + aside waveringly, as though to entreat you not to eye them and talk to + them so. General Ople, in the presence of the sketchbook, was much like + the nervous animal. He would fain have run away. He glanced at it, and + round about, and again at it, and at the heavens. Her ladyship’s cruelty, + and his inexplicable submission to it, were witnessed of the multitude. + </p> + <p> + The General’s friends walked very slowly. Lady Camper’s carriage whirled + by, and the General came up with them, accosting them and himself + alternately. They asked him where Elizabeth was, and he replied, ‘Poor + child, yes! I am told she is pale, but I cannot, believe I am so + perfectly, I say so perfectly ridiculous, when I join the responses.’ He + drew forth half a dozen sheets, and showed them sketches that Lady Camper + had taken in church, caricaturing him in the sitting down and the standing + up. She had torn them out of the book, and presented them to him when + driving off. ‘I was saying, worship in the ordinary sense will be + interdicted to me if her ladyship...,’ said the General, woefully + shuffling the sketch-paper sheets in which he figured. + </p> + <p> + He made the following odd confession to Mr. and Mrs. Gosling on the road:—that + he had gone to his chest, and taken out his sword-belt to measure his + girth, and found himself thinner than when he left the service, which had + not been the case before his attendance at the last levee of the foregoing + season. So the deduction was obvious, that Lady Camper had reduced him. + She had reduced him as effectually as a harassing siege. + </p> + <p> + ‘But why do you pay attention to her? Why...!’ exclaimed Mr. Gosling, a + gentleman of the City, whose roundness would have turned a rifle-shot. + </p> + <p> + ‘To allow her to wound you so seriously!’ exclaimed Mrs. Gosling. + </p> + <p> + ‘Madam, if she were my wife,’ the General explained, ‘I should feel it. I + say it is the fact of it; I feel it, if I appear so extremely ridiculous + to a human eye, to any one eye.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To Lady Camper’s eye.’ + </p> + <p> + He admitted it might be that. He had not thought of ascribing the + acuteness of his pain to the miserable image he presented in this + particular lady’s eye. No; it really was true, curiously true: another + lady’s eye might have transformed him to a pumpkin shape, exaggerated all + his foibles fifty-fold, and he, though not liking it, of course not, would + yet have preserved a certain manly equanimity. How was it Lady Camper had + such power over him?—a lady concealing seventy years with a + rouge-box or paint-pot! It was witchcraft in its worst character. He had + for six months at her bidding been actually living the life of a beast, + degraded in his own esteem; scorched by every laugh he heard; running, + pursued, overtaken, and as it were scored or branded, and then let go for + the process to be repeated. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + Our young barbarians have it all their own way with us when they fall into + love-liking; they lead us whither they please, and interest us in their + wishings, their weepings, and that fine performance, their kissings. But + when we see our veterans tottering to their fall, we scarcely consent to + their having a wish; as for a kiss, we halloo at them if we discover them + on a byway to the sacred grove where such things are supposed to be done + by the venerable. And this piece of rank injustice, not to say + impoliteness, is entirely because of an unsound opinion that Nature is not + in it, as though it were our esteem for Nature which caused us to + disrespect them. They, in truth, show her to us discreet, civilized, in a + decent moral aspect: vistas of real life, views of the mind’s eye, are + opened by their touching little emotions; whereas those bully youngsters + who come bellowing at us and catch us by the senses plainly prove either + that we are no better than they, or that we give our attention to Nature + only when she makes us afraid of her. If we cared for her, we should be up + and after her reverentially in her sedater steps, deeply studying her in + her slower paces. She teaches them nothing when they are whirling. Our + closest instructors, the true philosophers—the story-tellers, in + short-will learn in time that Nature is not of necessity always roaring, + and as soon as they do, the world may be said to be enlightened. Meantime, + in the contemplation of a pair of white whiskers fluttering round a pair + of manifestly painted cheeks, be assured that Nature is in it: not that + hectoring wanton—but let the young have their fun. Let the superior + interest of the passions of the aged be conceded, and not a word shall be + said against the young. + </p> + <p> + If, then, Nature is in it, how has she been made active? The reason of her + launch upon this last adventure is, that she has perceived the person who + can supply the virtue known to her by experience to be wanting. Thus, in + the broader instance, many who have journeyed far down the road, turn back + to the worship of youth, which they have lost. Some are for the graceful + worldliness of wit, of which they have just share enough to admire it. + Some are captivated by hands that can wield the rod, which in earlier days + they escaped to their cost. In the case of General Ople, it was partly her + whippings of him, partly her penetration; her ability, that sat so finely + on a wealthy woman, her indifference to conventional manners, that so well + beseemed a nobly-born one, and more than all, her correction of his little + weaknesses and incompetencies, in spite of his dislike of it, won him. He + began to feel a sort of nibbling pleasure in her grotesque sketches of his + person; a tendency to recur to the old ones while dreading the arrival of + new. You hear old gentlemen speak fondly of the swish; and they are not + attached to pain, but the instrument revives their feeling of youth; and + General Ople half enjoyed, while shrinking, Lady Camper’s foregone + outlines of him. For in the distance, the whip’s-end may look like a + clinging caress instead of a stinging flick. But this craven melting in + his heart was rebuked by a very worthy pride, that flew for support to the + injury she had done to his devotions, and the offence to the sacred + edifice. After thinking over it, he decided that he must quit his + residence; and as it appeared to him in the light of duty, he, with an + unspoken anguish, commissioned the house-agent of his town to sell his + lease or let the house furnished, without further parley. + </p> + <p> + From the house-agent’s shop he turned into the chemist’s, for a tonic—a + foolish proceeding, for he had received bracing enough in the blow he had + just dealt himself, but he had been cogitating on tonics recently, + imagining certain valiant effects of them, with visions of a former + careless happiness that they were likely to restore. So he requested to + have the tonic strong, and he took one glass of it over the counter. + </p> + <p> + Fifteen minutes after the draught, he came in sight of his house, and + beholding it, he could have called it a gentlemanly residence aloud under + Lady Camper’s windows, his insurgency was of such violence. He talked of + it incessantly, but forbore to tell Elizabeth, as she was looking pale, + the reason why its modest merits touched him so. He longed for the hour of + his next dose, and for a caricature to follow, that he might drink and + defy it. A caricature was really due to him, he thought; otherwise why had + he abandoned his bijou dwelling? Lady Camper, however, sent none. He had + to wait a fortnight before one came, and that was rather a likeness, and a + handsome likeness, except as regarded a certain disorderliness in his + dress, which he knew to be very unlike him. Still it despatched him to the + looking-glass, to bring that verifier of facts in evidence against the + sketch. While sitting there he heard the housemaid’s knock at the door, + and the strange intelligence that his daughter was with Lady Camper, and + had left word that she hoped he would not forget his engagement to go to + Mrs. Baerens’ lawn-party. + </p> + <p> + The General jumped away from the glass, shouting at the absent Elizabeth + in a fit of wrath so foreign to him, that he returned hurriedly to have + another look at himself, and exclaimed at the pitch of his voice, ‘I say I + attribute it to an indigestion of that tonic. Do you hear?’ The housemaid + faintly answered outside the door that she did, alarming him, for there + seemed to be confusion somewhere. His hope was that no one would mention + Lady Camper’s name, for the mere thought of her caused a rush to his head. + ‘I believe I am in for a touch of apoplexy,’ he said to the rector, who + greeted him, in advance of the ladies, on Mr. Baerens’ lawn. He said it + smilingly, but wanting some show of sympathy, instead of the whisper and + meaningless hand at his clerical band, with which the rector responded, he + cried, ‘Apoplexy,’ and his friend seemed then to understand, and + disappeared among the ladies. + </p> + <p> + Several of them surrounded the General, and one inquired whether the + series was being continued. He drew forth his pocket-book, handed her the + latest, and remarked on the gross injustice of it; for, as he requested + them to take note, her ladyship now sketched him as a person inattentive + to his dress, and he begged them to observe that she had drawn him with + his necktie hanging loose. ‘And that, I say that has never been known of + me since I first entered society.’ + </p> + <p> + The ladies exchanged looks of profound concern; for the fact was, the + General had come without any necktie and any collar, and he appeared to be + unaware of the circumstance. The rector had told them, that in answer to a + hint he had dropped on the subject of neckties, General Ople expressed a + slight apprehension of apoplexy; but his careless or merely partial + observance of the laws of buttonment could have nothing to do with such + fears. They signified rather a disorder of the intelligence. Elizabeth was + condemned for leaving him to go about alone. The situation was really most + painful, for a word to so sensitive a man would drive him away in shame + and for good; and still, to let him parade the ground in the state, + compared with his natural self, of scarecrow, and with the dreadful habit + of talking to himself quite rageing, was a horrible alternative. Mrs. + Baerens at last directed her husband upon the General, trembling as though + she watched for the operations of a fish torpedo; and other ladies shared + her excessive anxiousness, for Mr. Baerens had the manner and the look of + artillery, and on this occasion carried a surcharge of powder. + </p> + <p> + The General bent his ear to Mr. Baerens, whose German-English and repeated + remark, ‘I am to do it wid delicassy,’ did not assist his comprehension; + and when he might have been enlightened, he was petrified by seeing Lady + Camper walk on the lawn with Elizabeth. The great lady stood a moment + beside Mrs. Baerens; she came straight over to him, contemplating him in + silence. + </p> + <p> + Then she said, ‘Your arm, General Ople,’ and she made one circuit of the + lawn with him, barely speaking. + </p> + <p> + At her request, he conducted her to her carriage. He took a seat beside + her, obediently. He felt that he was being sketched, and comported himself + like a child’s flat man, that jumps at the pulling of a string. + </p> + <p> + ‘Where have you left your girl, General?’ + </p> + <p> + Before he could rally his wits to answer the question, he was asked: + </p> + <p> + ‘And what have you done with your necktie and collar?’ + </p> + <p> + He touched his throat. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am rather nervous to-day, I forgot Elizabeth,’ he said, sending his + fingers in a dotting run of wonderment round his neck. + </p> + <p> + Lady Camper smiled with a triumphing humour on her close-drawn lips. + </p> + <p> + The verified absence of necktie and collar seemed to be choking him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Never mind, you have been abroad without them,’ said Lady Camper, ‘and + that is a victory for me. And you thought of Elizabeth first when I drew + your attention to it, and that is a victory for you. It is a very great + victory. Pray, do not be dismayed, General. You have a handsome + campaigning air. And no apologies, if you please; I like you well enough + as you are. There is my hand.’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople understood her last remark. He pressed the lady’s hand in + silence, very nervously. + </p> + <p> + ‘But do not shrug your head into your shoulders as if there were any + possibility of concealing the thunderingly evident,’ said Lady Camper, + electrifying him, what with her cordial squeeze, her kind eyes, and her + singular language. ‘You have omitted the collar. Well? The collar is the + fatal finishing touch in men’s dress; it would make Apollo look + bourgeois.’ + </p> + <p> + Her hand was in his: and watching the play of her features, a spark + entered General Ople’s brain, causing him, in forgetfulness of collar and + caricatures, to ejaculate, ‘Seventy? Did your ladyship say seventy? + Utterly impossible! You trifle with me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We will talk when we are free of this accompaniment of carriage-wheels, + General,’ said Lady Camper. + </p> + <p> + ‘I will beg permission to go and fetch Elizabeth, madam.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Rightly thought of. Fetch her in my carriage. And, by the way, Mrs. + Baerens was my old music-mistress, and is, I think, one year older than I. + She can tell you on which side of seventy I am.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall not require to ask, my lady,’ he said, sighing. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then we will send the carriage for Elizabeth, and have it out together at + once. I am impatient; yes, General, impatient: for what?—forgiveness.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of me, my lady?’ The General breathed profoundly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Of whom else? Do you know what it is?-I don’t think you do. You English + have the smallest experience of humanity. I mean this: to strike so hard + that, in the end, you soften your heart to the victim. Well, that is my + weakness. And we of our blood put no restraint on the blows we strike when + we think them wanted, so we are always overdoing it.’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople assisted Lady Camper to alight from the carriage, which was + forthwith despatched for Elizabeth. + </p> + <p> + He prepared to listen to her with a disconnected smile of acute + attentiveness. + </p> + <p> + She had changed. She spoke of money. Ten thousand pounds must be settled + on his daughter. ‘And now,’ said she, ‘you will remember that you are + wanting a collar.’ + </p> + <p> + He acquiesced. He craved permission to retire for ten minutes. + </p> + <p> + ‘Simplest of men! what will cover you?’ she exclaimed, and peremptorily + bidding him sit down in the drawing-room, she took one of the famous pair + of pistols in her hand, and said, ‘If I put myself in a similar position, + and make myself decodletee too, will that satisfy you? You see these + murderous weapons. Well, I am a coward. I dread fire-arms. They are laid + there to impose on the world, and I believe they do. They have imposed on + you. Now, you would never think of pretending to a moral quality you do + not possess. But, silly, simple man that you are! You can give yourself + the airs of wealth, buy horses to conceal your nakedness, and when you are + taken upon the standard of your apparent income, you would rather seem to + be beating a miserly retreat than behave frankly and honestly. I have a + little overstated it, but I am near the mark.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Your ladyship wanting courage!’ cried the General. + </p> + <p> + ‘Refresh yourself by meditating on it,’ said she. ‘And to prove it to you, + I was glad to take this house when I knew I was to have a gallant + gentleman for a neighbour. No visitors will be admitted, General Ople, so + you are bare-throated only to me: sit quietly. One day you speculated on + the paint in my cheeks for the space of a minute and a half:—I had + said that I freckled easily. Your look signified that you really could not + detect a single freckle for the paint. I forgave you, or I did not. But + when I found you, on closer acquaintance, as indifferent to your + daughter’s happiness as you had been to her reputation...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My daughter! her reputation! her happiness!’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople raised his eyes under a wave, half uttering the outcries. + </p> + <p> + ‘So indifferent to her reputation, that you allowed a young man to talk + with her over the wall, and meet her by appointment: so reckless of the + girl’s happiness, that when I tried to bring you to a treaty, on her + behalf, you could not be dragged from thinking of yourself and your own + affair. When I found that, perhaps I was predisposed to give you some of + what my sisters used to call my spice. You would not honestly state the + proportions of your income, and you affected to be faithful to the woman + of seventy. Most preposterous! Could any caricature of mine exceed in + grotesqueness your sketch of yourself? You are a brave and a generous man + all the same: and I suspect it is more hoodwinking than egotism—or + extreme egotism—that blinds you. A certain amount you must have to + be a man. You did not like my paint, still less did you like my sincerity; + you were annoyed by my corrections of your habits of speech; you were + horrified by the age of seventy, and you were credulous—General + Ople, listen to me, and remember that you have no collar on—you were + credulous of my statement of my great age, or you chose to be so, or chose + to seem so, because I had brushed your cat’s coat against the fur. And + then, full of yourself, not thinking of Elizabeth, but to withdraw in the + chivalrous attitude of the man true to his word to the old woman, only + stickling to bring a certain independence to the common stock, because—I + quote you! and you have no collar on, mind—“you could not be at your + wife’s mercy,” you broke from your proposal on the money question. Where + was your consideration for Elizabeth then? + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, General, you were fond of thinking of yourself, and I thought I + would assist you. I gave you plenty of subject matter. I will not say I + meant to work a homoeopathic cure. But if I drive you to forget your + collar, is it or is it not a triumph? + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ added Lady Camper, ‘it is no triumph for me, but it is one for you, + if you like to make the most of it. Your fault has been to quit active + service, General, and love your ease too well. It is the fault of your + countrymen. You must get a militia regiment, or inspectorship of militia. + You are ten times the man in exercise. Why, do you mean to tell me that + you would have cared for those drawings of mine when marching?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think so, I say I think so,’ remarked the General seriously. + </p> + <p> + ‘I doubt it,’ said she. ‘But to the point; here comes Elizabeth. If you + have not much money to spare for her, according to your prudent + calculation, reflect how this money has enfeebled you and reduced you to + the level of the people round about us here—who are, what? + Inhabitants of gentlemanly residences, yes! But what kind of creature? + They have no mental standard, no moral aim, no native chivalry. You were + rapidly becoming one of them, only, fortunately for you, you were + sensitive to ridicule.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Elizabeth shall have half my money settled on her,’ said the General; + ‘though I fear it is not much. And if I can find occupation, my lady...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Something worthier than that,’ said Lady Camper, pencilling outlines + rapidly on the margin of a book, and he saw himself lashing a pony; ‘or + that,’ and he was plucking at a cabbage; ‘or that,’ and he was bowing to + three petticoated posts. + </p> + <p> + ‘The likeness is exact,’ General Ople groaned. + </p> + <p> + ‘So you may suppose I have studied you,’ said she. ‘But there is no real + likeness. Slight exaggerations do more harm to truth than reckless + violations of it. + </p> + <p> + You would not have cared one bit for a caricature, if you had not nursed + the absurd idea of being one of our conquerors. It is the very tragedy of + modesty for a man like you to have such notions, my poor dear good friend. + The modest are the most easily intoxicated when they sip at vanity. And + reflect whether you have not been intoxicated, for these young people have + been wretched, and you have not observed it, though one of them was living + with you, and is the child you love. There, I have done. Pray show a good + face to Elizabeth.’ + </p> + <p> + The General obeyed as well as he could. He felt very like a sheep that has + come from a shearing, and when released he wished to run away. But hardly + had he escaped before he had a desire for the renewal of the operation. + ‘She sees me through, she sees me through,’ he was heard saying to + himself, and in the end he taught himself, to say it with a secret + exultation, for as it was on her part an extraordinary piece of insight to + see him through, it struck him that in acknowledging the truth of it, he + made a discovery of new powers in human nature. + </p> + <p> + General Ople studied Lady Camper diligently for fresh proofs of her + penetration of the mysteries in his bosom; by which means, as it happened + that she was diligently observing the two betrothed young ones, he began + to watch them likewise, and took a pleasure in the sight. Their meetings, + their partings, their rides out and home furnished him themes of converse. + He soon had enough to talk of, and previously, as he remembered, he had + never sustained a conversation of any length with composure and the + beneficent sense of fulness. Five thousand pounds, to which sum Lady + Camper reduced her stipulation for Elizabeth’s dowry, he signed over to + his dear girl gladly, and came out with the confession to her ladyship + that a well-invested twelve thousand comprised his fortune. She shrugged + she had left off pulling him this way and that, so his chains were + enjoyable, and he said to himself: ‘If ever she should in the dead of + night want a man to defend her!’ He mentioned it to Reginald, who had been + the repository of Elizabeth’s lamentations about her father being left + alone, forsaken, and the young man conceived a scheme for causing his + aunt’s great bell to be rung at midnight, which would certainly have led + to a dramatic issue and the happy re-establishment of our masculine + ascendancy at the close of this history. But he forgot it in his + bridegroom’s delight, until he was making his miserable official speech at + the wedding-breakfast, and set Elizabeth winking over a tear. As she stood + in the hall ready to depart, a great van was observed in the road at the + gates of Douro Lodge; and this, the men in custody declared to contain the + goods and knick-knacks of the people who had taken the house furnished for + a year, and were coming in that very afternoon. + </p> + <p> + ‘I remember, I say now I remember, I had a notice,’ the General said + cheerily to his troubled daughter. + </p> + <p> + ‘But where are you to go, papa?’ the poor girl cried, close on sobbing. + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall get employment of some sort,’ said he. ‘I was saying I want it, I + need it, I require it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are saying three times what once would have sufficed for,’ said Lady + Camper, and she asked him a few questions, frowned with a smile, and + offered him a lodgement in his neighbour’s house. + </p> + <p> + ‘Really, dearest Aunt Angela?’ said Elizabeth. + </p> + <p> + ‘What else can I do, child? I have, it seems, driven him out of a + gentlemanly residence, and I must give him a ladylike one. True, I would + rather have had him at call, but as I have always wished for a policeman + in the house, I may as well be satisfied with a soldier.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But if you lose your character, my lady?’ said Reginald. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I must look to the General to restore it.’ + </p> + <p> + General Ople immediately bowed his head over Lady Camper’s fingers. + </p> + <p> + ‘An odd thing to happen to a woman of forty-one!’ she said to her great + people, and they submitted with the best grace in the world, while the + General’s ears tingled till he felt younger than Reginald. This, his + reflections ran, or it would be more correct to say waltzed, this is the + result of painting!—that you can believe a woman to be any age when + her cheeks are tinted! + </p> + <p> + As for Lady Camper, she had been floated accidentally over the ridicule of + the bruit of a marriage at a time of life as terrible to her as her + fiction of seventy had been to General Ople; she resigned herself to let + things go with the tide. She had not been blissful in her first marriage, + she had abandoned the chase of an ideal man, and she had found one who was + tunable so as not to offend her ears, likely ever to be a fund of + amusement for her humour, good, impressible, and above all, very + picturesque. There is the secret of her, and of how it came to pass that a + simple man and a complex woman fell to union after the strangest division. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + Can believe a woman to be any age when her cheeks are tinted + Modest are the most easily intoxicated when they sip at vanity + Nature is not of necessity always roaring + Only to be described in the tongue of auctioneers + Respected the vegetable yet more than he esteemed the flower + She seems honest, and that is the most we can hope of girls + Spare me that word “female” as long as you live + The mildness of assured dictatorship + When we see our veterans tottering to their fall +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TALE OF CHLOE AN EPISODE IN THE HISTORY OF BEAU BEAMISH + </h2> + <h3> + By George Meredith + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Fair Chloe, we toasted of old, + As the Queen of our festival meeting; + Now Chloe is lifeless and cold; + You must go to the grave for her greeting. + Her beauty and talents were framed + To enkindle the proudest to win her; + Then let not the mem’ry be blamed + Of the purest that e’er was a sinner!’ + + Captain Chanter’s Collection. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + A proper tenderness for the Peerage will continue to pass current the + illustrious gentleman who was inflamed by Cupid’s darts to espouse the + milkmaid, or dairymaid, under his ballad title of Duke of Dewlap: nor was + it the smallest of the services rendered him by Beau Beamish, that he + clapped the name upon her rustic Grace, the young duchess, the very first + day of her arrival at the Wells. This happy inspiration of a wit never + failing at a pinch has rescued one of our princeliest houses from the + assaults of the vulgar, who are ever too rejoiced to bespatter and + disfigure a brilliant coat-of-arms; insomuch that the ballad, to which we + are indebted for the narrative of the meeting and marriage of the ducal + pair, speaks of Dewlap in good faith— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + O the ninth Duke of Dewlap I am, Susie dear! +</pre> + <p> + without a hint of a domino title. So likewise the pictorial historian is + merry over ‘Dewlap alliances’ in his description of the society of that + period. He has read the ballad, but disregarded the memoirs of the beau. + Writers of pretension would seem to have an animus against individuals of + the character of Mr. Beamish. They will treat of the habits and manners of + highwaymen, and quote obscure broadsheets and songs of the people to + colour their story, yet decline to bestow more than a passing remark upon + our domestic kings: because they are not hereditary, we may suppose. The + ballad of ‘The Duke and the Dairymaid,’ ascribed with questionable + authority to the pen of Mr. Beamish himself in a freak of his gaiety, was + once popular enough to provoke the moralist to animadversions upon an + order of composition that ‘tempted every bouncing country lass to sidle an + eye in a blowsy cheek’ in expectation of a coronet for her pains—and + a wet ditch as the result! We may doubt it to have been such an occasion + of mischief. But that mischief may have been done by it to a + nobility-loving people, even to the love of our nobility among the people, + must be granted; and for the particular reason, that the hero of the + ballad behaved so handsomely. We perceive a susceptibility to adulteration + in their worship at the sight of one of their number, a young maid, + suddenly snatched up to the gaping heights of Luxury and Fashion through + sheer good looks. Remembering that they are accustomed to a totally + reverse effect from that possession, it is very perceptible how a breach + in their reverence may come of the change. + </p> + <p> + Otherwise the ballad is innocent; certainly it is innocent in design. A + fresher national song of a beautiful incident of our country life has + never been written. The sentiments are natural, the imagery is apt and + redolent of the soil, the music of the verse appeals to the dullest ear. + It has no smell of the lamp, nothing foreign and far-fetched about it, but + is just what it pretends to be, the carol of the native bird. A sample + will show, for the ballad is much too long to be given entire: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sweet Susie she tripped on a shiny May morn, + As blithe as the lark from the green-springing corn, + When, hard by a stile, ‘twas her luck to behold + A wonderful gentleman covered with gold! + + There was gold on his breeches and gold on his coat, + His shirt-frill was grand as a fifty-pound note; + The diamonds glittered all up him so bright, + She thought him the Milky Way clothing a Sprite! + + ‘Fear not, pretty maiden,’ he said with a smile; + ‘And, pray, let me help you in crossing the stile. + She bobbed him a curtsey so lovely and smart, + It shot like an arrow and fixed in his heart. + + As light as a robin she hopped to the stone, + But fast was her hand in the gentleman’s own; + And guess how she stared, nor her senses could trust, + When this creamy gentleman knelt in the dust! +</pre> + <p> + With a rhapsody upon her beauty, he informs her of his rank, for a + flourish to the proposal of honourable and immediate marriage. He cannot + wait. This is the fatal condition of his love: apparently a characteristic + of amorous dukes. We read them in the signs extended to us. The minds of + these august and solitary men have not yet been sounded; they are too + distant. Standing upon their lofty pinnacles, they are as legible to the + rabble below as a line of cuneiform writing in a page of old copybook + roundhand. By their deeds we know them, as heathendom knows of its gods; + and it is repeatedly on record that the moment they have taken fire they + must wed, though the lady’s finger be circled with nothing closer fitting + than a ring of the bed-curtain. Vainly, as becomes a candid country lass, + blue-eyed Susan tells him that she is but a poor dairymaid. He has been a + student of women at Courts, in which furnace the sex becomes a + transparency, so he recounts to her the catalogue of material advantages + he has to offer. Finally, after his assurances that she is to be married + by the parson, really by the parson, and a real parson— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sweet Susie is off for her parents’ consent, + And long must the old folk debate what it meant. + She left them the eve of that happy May morn, + To shine like the blossom that hangs from the thorn! +</pre> + <p> + Apart from its historical value, the ballad is an example to poets of our + day, who fly to mythological Greece, or a fanciful and morbid + mediaevalism, or—save the mark!—abstract ideas, for themes of + song, of what may be done to make our English life poetically interesting, + if they would but pluck the treasures presented them by the wayside; and + Nature being now as then the passport to popularity, they have themselves + to thank for their little hold on the heart of the people. A living native + duke is worth fifty Phoebus Apollos to Englishmen, and a buxom young lass + of the fields mounting from a pair of pails to the estate of duchess, a + more romantic object than troops of your visionary Yseults and Guineveres. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + A certain time after the marriage, his Grace alighted at the Wells, and + did himself the honour to call on Mr. Beamish. Addressing that gentleman, + to whom he was no stranger, he communicated the purport of his visit. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sir, and my very good friend,’ he said, ‘first let me beg you to abate + the severity of your countenance, for if I am here in breach of your + prohibition, I shall presently depart in compliance with it. I could + indeed deplore the loss of the passion for play of which you effectually + cured me. I was then armed against a crueller, that allows of no interval + for a man to make his vow to recover!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The disease which is all crisis, I apprehend,’ Mr. Beamish remarked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Which, sir, when it takes hold of dry wood, burns to the last splinter. + It is now’—the duke fetched a tender groan—‘three years ago + that I had a caprice to marry a grandchild!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of Adam’s,’ Mr. Beamish said cheerfully. ‘There was no legitimate bar to + the union.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Unhappily none. Yet you are not to suppose I regret it. A most admirable + creature, Mr. Beamish, a real divinity! And the better known, the more + adored. There is the misfortune. At my season of life, when the greater + and the minor organs are in a conspiracy to tell me I am mortal, the + passion of love must be welcomed as a calamity, though one would not be + free of it for the renewal of youth. You are to understand, that with a + little awakening taste for dissipation, she is the most innocent of + angels. Hitherto we have lived... To her it has been a new world. But she + is beginning to find it a narrow one. No, no, she is not tired of my + society. Very far from that. But in her present station an inclination for + such gatherings as you have here, for example, is like a desire to take + the air: and the healthy habits of my duchess have not accustomed her to + be immured. And in fine, devote ourselves as we will, a term approaches + when the enthusiasm for serving as your wife’s playfellow all day, running + round tables and flying along corridors before a knotted handkerchief, is + mightily relaxed. Yet the dread of a separation from her has kept me at + these pastimes for a considerable period beyond my relish of them. Not + that I acknowledge fatigue. I have, it seems, a taste for reflection; I am + now much disposed to read and meditate, which cannot be done without + repose. I settle myself, and I receive a worsted ball in my face, and I am + expected to return it. I comply; and then you would say a nursery in arms. + It would else be the deplorable spectacle of a beautiful young woman + yawning.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Earthquake and saltpetre threaten us less terribly,’ said Mr. Beamish. + </p> + <p> + ‘In fine, she has extracted a promise that ‘this summer she shall visit + the Wells for a month, and I fear I cannot break my pledge of my word; I + fear I cannot.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very certainly I would not,’ said Mr. Beamish. + </p> + <p> + The duke heaved a sigh. ‘There are reasons, family reasons, why my company + and protection must be denied to her here. I have no wish... indeed my + name, for the present, until such time as she shall have found her feet... + and there is ever a penalty to pay for that. Ah, Mr. Beamish, pictures are + ours, when we have bought them and hung them up; but who insures us + possession of a beautiful work of Nature? I have latterly betaken me to + reflect much and seriously. I am tempted to side with the Divines in the + sermons I have read; the flesh is the habitation of a rebellious devil.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To whom we object in proportion as we ourselves become quit of him,’ Mr. + Beamish acquiesced. + </p> + <p> + ‘But this mania of young people for pleasure, eternal pleasure, is one of + the wonders. It does not pall on them; they are insatiate.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There is the cataract, and there is the cliff. Potentate to potentate, + duke—so long as you are on my territory, be it understood. Upon my + way to a place of worship once, I passed a Puritan, who was complaining of + a butterfly that fluttered prettily abroad in desecration of the Day of + Rest. “Friend,” said I to him, “conclusively you prove to me that you are + not a butterfly.” Surly did no more than favour me with the anathema of + his countenance.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Cousin Beamish, my complaint of these young people is, that they miss + their pleasure in pursuing it. I have lectured my duchess—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ha!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Foolish, I own,’ said the duke. ‘But suppose, now, you had caught your + butterfly, and you could neither let it go nor consent to follow its + vagaries. That poses you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Young people,’ said Mr. Beamish, ‘come under my observation in this poor + realm of mine—young and old. I find them prodigiously alike in their + love of pleasure, differing mainly in their capacity to satisfy it. That + is no uncommon observation. The young, have an edge which they are + desirous of blunting; the old contrariwise. The cry of the young for + pleasure is actually—I have studied their language—a cry for + burdens. Curious! And the old ones cry for having too many on their + shoulders: which is not astonishing. Between them they make an agreeable + concert both to charm the ears and guide the steps of the philosopher, + whose wisdom it is to avoid their tracks.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good. But I have asked you for practical advice, and you give me an + essay.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For the reason, duke, that you propose a case that suggests hanging. You + mention two things impossible to be done. The alternative is, a garter and + the bedpost. When we have come upon crossways, and we can decide neither + to take the right hand nor the left, neither forward nor back, the index + of the board which would direct us points to itself, and emphatically + says, Gallows.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Beamish, I am distracted. If I refuse her the visit, I foresee + dissensions, tears, games at ball, romps, not one day of rest remaining to + me. I could be of a mind with your Puritan, positively. If I allow it, so + innocent a creature in the atmosphere of a place like this must suffer + some corruption. You should know that the station I took her from was ... + it was modest. She was absolutely a buttercup of the fields. She has had + various masters. She dances... she dances prettily, I could say + bewitchingly. And so she is now for airing her accomplishments: such are + women!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Have you heard of Chloe?’ said Mr. Beamish. ‘There you have an example of + a young lady uncorrupted by this place—of which I would only remark + that it is best unvisited, but better tasted than longed for.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Chloe? A lady who squandered her fortune to redeem some ill-requiting + rascal: I remember to have heard of her. She is here still? And ruined, of + course?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘In purse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That cannot be without the loss of reputation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Chloe’s champion will grant that she is exposed to the evils of + improvidence. The more brightly shine her native purity, her goodness of + heart, her trustfulness. She is a lady whose exaltation glows in her + abasement.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She has, I see, preserved her comeliness,’ observed the duke, with a + smile. + </p> + <p> + ‘Despite the flying of the roses, which had not her heart’s patience. ‘Tis + now the lily that reigns. So, then, Chloe shall be attached to the duchess + during her stay, and unless the devil himself should interfere, I + guarantee her Grace against any worse harm than experience; and that,’ Mr. + Beamish added, as the duke raised his arms at the fearful word, ‘that + shall be mild. Play she will; she is sure to play. Put it down at a + thousand. We map her out a course of permissible follies, and she plays to + lose the thousand by degrees, with as telling an effect upon a connubial + conscience as we can produce.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A thousand,’ said the duke, ‘will be cheap indeed. I think now I have had + a description of this fair Chloe, and from an enthusiast; a brune? + elegantly mannered and of a good landed family; though she has thought + proper to conceal her name. And that will be our difficulty, cousin + Beamish.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She was, under my dominion, Miss Martinsward,’ Mr. Beamish pursued. ‘She + came here very young, and at once her suitors were legion. In the way of + women, she chose the worst among them; and for the fellow Caseldy she + sacrificed the fortune she had inherited of a maternal uncle. To release + him from prison, she paid all his debts; a mountain of bills, with the + lawyers piled above—Pelion upon Ossa, to quote our poets. In fact, + obeying the dictates of a soul steeped in generosity, she committed the + indiscretion to strip herself, scandalizing propriety. This was + immediately on her coming of age; and it was the death-blow to her + relations with her family. Since then, honoured even by rakes, she has + lived impoverished at the Wells. I dubbed her Chloe, and man or woman + disrespectful to Chloe packs. From being the victim of her generous + disposition, I could not save her; I can protect her from the shafts of + malice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She has no passion for play?’ inquired the duke. + </p> + <p> + ‘She nourishes a passion for the man for whom she bled, to the exclusion + of the other passions. She lives, and I believe I may say that it is the + motive of her rising and dressing daily, in expectation of his advent.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He may be dead.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The dog is alive. And he has not ceased to be Handsome Caseldy, they say. + Between ourselves, duke, there is matter to break her heart. He has been + the Count Caseldy of Continental gaming tables, and he is recently Sir + Martin Caseldy, settled on the estate she made him free to take up intact + on his father’s decease.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Pah! a villain!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘With a blacker brand upon him every morning that he looks forth across + his property, and leaves her to languish! She still—I say it to the + redemption of our sex—has offers. Her incomparable attractions of + mind and person exercise the natural empire of beauty. But she will none + of them. I call her the Fair Suicide. She has died for love; and she is a + ghost, a good ghost, and a pleasing ghost, but an apparition, a taper. + </p> + <p> + The duke fidgeted, and expressed a hope to hear that she was not of + melancholy conversation; and again, that the subject of her discourse was + not confined to love and lovers, happy or unhappy. He wished his duchess, + he said, to be entertained upon gayer topics: love being a theme he + desired to reserve to himself. ‘This month!’ he said, prognostically + shaking and moaning. ‘I would this month were over, and that we were well + purged of it.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish reassured him. The wit and sprightliness of Chloe were so + famous as to be considered medical, he affirmed; she was besieged for her + company; she composed and sang impromptu verses, she played harp and + harpsichord divinely, and touched the guitar, and danced, danced like the + silvery moon on the waters of the mill pool. He concluded by saying that + she was both humane and wise, humble-minded and amusing, virtuous yet not + a Tartar; the best of companions for her Grace the young duchess. + Moreover, he boldly engaged to carry the duchess through the term of her + visit under a name that should be as good as a masquerade for concealing + his Grace’s, while giving her all the honours due to her rank. + </p> + <p> + ‘You strictly interpret my wishes,’ said the duke; ‘all honours, the + foremost place, and my wrath upon man or woman gainsaying them!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mine! if you please, duke,’ said Mr. Beamish. + </p> + <p> + ‘A thousand pardons! I leave it to you, cousin. I could not be in safer + hands. I am heartily bounders to you. Chloe, then. By the way, she has a + decent respect for age?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She is reverentially inclined.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not that. She is, I would ask, no wanton prattler of the charms and + advantages of youth?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She has a young adorer that I have dubbed Alonzo, whom she scarce + notices.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing could be better. Alonzo: h’m! A faithful swain?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Life is his tree, upon which unceasingly he carves his mistress’s + initials.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She should not be too cruel. I recollect myself formerly: I was... Young + men will, when long slighted, transfer their affections, and be warmer to + the second flame than to the first. I put you on your guard. He follows + her much? These lovers’ paintings and puffings in the neighbourhood of the + most innocent of women are contagious.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Her Grace will be running home all the sooner.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Or off!—may she forgive me! I am like a King John’s Jew, forced to + lend his treasure without security. What a world is ours! Nothing, + Beamish, nothing desirable will you have which is not coveted! Catch a + prize, and you will find you are at war with your species. You have to be + on the defensive from that moment. There is no such thing as peaceable + procession on earth. Let it be a beautiful young woman!—Ah!’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish replied bracingly, ‘The champion wrestler challenges all + comers while he wears the belt.’ + </p> + <p> + The duke dejectedly assented. ‘True; or he is challenged, say. Is there + any tale we could tell her of this Alonzo? You could deport him for the + month, my dear Beamish.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I commit no injustice unless with sufficient reason. It is an estimable + youth, as shown by his devotion to a peerless woman. To endow her with his + name and fortune is his only thought.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I perceive; an excellent young fellow! I have an incipient liking for + this young Alonzo. You must not permit my duchess to laugh at him. + Encourage her rather to advance his suit. The silliness of a young man + will be no bad spectacle. Chloe, then. You have set my mind at rest, + Beamish, and it is but another obligation added to the heap; so, if I do + not speak of payment, the reason is that I know you would not have me + bankrupt.’ + </p> + <p> + The remainder of the colloquy of the duke and Mr. Beamish referred to the + date of her Grace’s coming to the Wells, the lodgement she was to receive, + and other minor arrangements bearing upon her state and comfort; the duke + perpetually observing, ‘But I leave it all to you, Beamish,’ when he had + laid down precise instructions in these respects, even to the + specification of the shopkeepers, the confectioner and the apothecary, who + were to balance or cancel one another in the opposite nature of their + supplies, and the haberdasher and the jeweller, with whom she was to make + her purchases. For the duke had a recollection of giddy shops, and of + giddy shopmen too; and it was by serving as one for a day that a certain + great nobleman came to victory with a jealously guarded dame beautiful as + Venus. ‘I would have challenged the goddess!’ he cried, and subsided from + his enthusiasm plaintively, like a weak wind instrument. ‘So there you see + the prudence of a choice of shops. But I leave it to you, Beamish.’ + Similarly the great military commander, having done whatsoever a careful + prevision may suggest to insure him victory, casts himself upon + Providence, with the hope of propitiating the unanticipated and darkly + possible. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + The splendid equipage of a coach and six, with footmen in scarlet and + green, carried Beau Beamish five miles along the road on a sunny day to + meet the young duchess at the boundary of his territory, and conduct her + in state to the Wells. Chloe sat beside him, receiving counsel with regard + to her prospective duties. He was this day the consummate beau, suave, but + monarchical, and his manner of speech partook of his external grandeur. + ‘Spy me the horizon, and apprise me if somewhere you distinguish a + chariot,’ he said, as they drew up on the rise of a hill of long descent, + where the dusty roadway sank between its brown hedges, and crawled + mounting from dry rush-spotted hollows to corn fields on a companion + height directly facing them, at a remove of about three-quarters of a + mile. Chloe looked forth, while the beau passingly raised his hat for + coolness, and murmured, with a glance down the sultry track: ‘It sweats + the eye to see!’ + </p> + <p> + Presently Chloe said, ‘Now a dust blows. Something approaches. Now I + discern horses, now a vehicle; and it is a chariot!’ + </p> + <p> + Orders were issued to the outriders for horns to be sounded. + </p> + <p> + Both Chloe and Beau Beamish wrinkled their foreheads at the disorderly + notes of triple horns, whose pealing made an acid in the air instead of + sweetness. + </p> + <p> + ‘You would say, kennel dogs that bay the moon!’ said the wincing beau. + ‘Yet, as you know, these fellows have been exercised. I have had them out + in a meadow for hours, baked and drenched, to get them rid of their native + cacophony. But they love it, as they love bacon and beans. The musical + taste of our people is in the stage of the primitive appetite for noise, + and for that they are gluttons.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It will be pleasant to hear in the distance,’ Chloe replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, the extremer the distance, the pleasanter to hear. Are they + advancing?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They stop. There is a cavalier at the window. Now he doffs his hat.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sweepingly?’ + </p> + <p> + Chloe described a semicircle in the grand manner. + </p> + <p> + The beau’s eyebrows rose. ‘Powers divine!’ he muttered. ‘She is let loose + from hand to hand, and midway comes a cavalier. We did not count on the + hawks. So I have to deal with a cavalier! It signifies, my dear Chloe, + that I must incontinently affect the passion if I am to be his match: + nothing less.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He has flown,’ said Chloe. + </p> + <p> + ‘Whom she encounters after meeting me, I care not,’ quoth the beau, + snapping a finger. ‘But there has been an interval for damage with a lady + innocent as Eve. Is she advancing?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The chariot is trotting down the hill. He has ridden back. She has no + attendant horseman.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They were dismissed at my injunction ten miles off particularly to the + benefit of the cavaliering horde, it would appear. In the case of a woman, + Chloe, one blink of the eyelids is an omission of watchfulness.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is an axiom fit for the harem of the Grand Signior.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The Grand Signior might give us profitable lessons for dealing with the + sex.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Distrust us, and it is a declaration of war!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Trust you, and the stopper is out of the smelling-bottle.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr. Beamish, we are women, but we have souls.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The pip in the apple whose ruddy cheek allures little Tommy to rob the + orchard is as good a preservative.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You admit that men are our enemies?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I maintain that they carry the banner of virtue.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Mr. Beamish, I shall expire.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I forbid it in my lifetime, Chloe, for I wish to die believing in one + woman.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No flattery for me at the expense of my sisters!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then fly to a hermitage; for all flattery is at somebody’s expense, + child. ‘Tis an essence-extract of humanity! To live on it, in the fashion + of some people, is bad—it is downright cannibal. But we may sprinkle + our handkerchiefs with it, and we should, if we would caress our noses + with an air. Society, my Chloe, is a recommencement upon an upper level of + the savage system; we must have our sacrifices. As, for instance, what say + you of myself beside our booted bumpkin squires?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hundreds of them, Mr. Beamish!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is a holocaust of squires reduced to make an incense for me, though + you have not performed Druid rites and packed them in gigantic osier ribs. + Be philosophical, but accept your personal dues. Grant us ours too. I have + a serious intention to preserve this young duchess, and I expect my task + to be severe. I carry the banner aforesaid; verily and penitentially I do. + It is an error of the vulgar to suppose that all is dragon in the dragon’s + jaws.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Men are his fangs and claws.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, but the passion for his fiery breath is in woman. She will take her + leap and have her jump, will and will! And at the point where she will and + she won’t, the dragon gulps and down she goes! However, the business is to + keep our buttercup duchess from that same point. Is she near?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can see her,’ said Chloe. + </p> + <p> + Beau Beamish requested a sketch of her, and Chloe began: ‘She is + ravishing.’ + </p> + <p> + Upon which he commented, ‘Every woman is ravishing at forty paces, and + still more so in imagination.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Beautiful auburn hair, and a dazzling red and white complexion, set in a + blue coif.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Her eyes?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Melting blue.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘‘Tis an English witch!’ exclaimed the beau, and he compassionately + invoked her absent lord. + </p> + <p> + Chloe’s optics were no longer tasked to discern the fair lady’s + lineaments, for the chariot windows came flush with those of the beau on + the broad plateau of the hill. His coach door was opened. He sat upright, + levelling his privileged stare at Duchess Susan until she blushed. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, madam,’ quoth he, ‘I am not the first.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘La, sir!’ said she; ‘who are you?’ + </p> + <p> + The beau deliberately raised his hat and bowed. ‘He, madam, of whose + approach the gentleman who took his leave of you on yonder elevation + informed you.’ + </p> + <p> + She looked artlessly over her shoulder, and at the beau alighting from his + carriage. ‘A gentleman?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘On horseback.’ + </p> + <p> + The duchess popped her head through the window on an impulse to measure + the distance between the two hills. + </p> + <p> + ‘Never!’ she cried. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, madam, did he deliver no message to announce me?’ said the beau, + ruffling. + </p> + <p> + ‘Goodness gracious! You must be Mr. Beamish,’ she replied. + </p> + <p> + He laid his hat on his bosom, and invited her to quit her carriage for a + seat beside him. She stipulated, ‘If you are really Mr. Beamish?’ He + frowned, and raised his head to convince her; but she would not be + impressed, and he applied to Chloe to establish his identity. Hearing + Chloe’s name, the duchess called out, ‘Oh! there, now, that’s enough, for + Chloe’s my maid here, and I know she’s a lady born, and we’re going to be + friends. Hand me to Chloe. And you are Chloe?’ she said, after a frank + stride from step to step of the carriages. ‘And don’t mind being my maid? + You do look a nice, kind creature. And I see you’re a lady born; I know in + a minute. You’re dark, I’m fair; we shall suit. And tell me—hush!—what + dreadful long eyes he has! I shall ask you presently what you think of me. + I was never at the Wells before. Dear me! the coach has turned. How far + off shall we hear the bells to say I’m coming? I know I’m to have bells. + Mr. Beamish, Mr. Beamish! I must have a chatter with a woman, and I’m in + awe of you, sir, that I am, but men and men I see to talk to for a lift of + my finger, by the dozen, in my duke’s palace—though they’re old + ones, that’s true—but a woman who’s a lady, and kind enough to be my + maid, I haven’t met yet since I had the right to wear a coronet. There, + I’ll hold Chloe’s hand, and that’ll do. You would tell me at once, Chloe, + if I was not dressed to your taste; now, wouldn’t you? As for talkative, + that’s a sign with me of my liking people. I really don’t know what to say + to my duke sometimes. I sit and think it so funny to be having a duke + instead of a husband. You’re off!’ + </p> + <p> + The duchess laughed at Chloe’s laughter. Chloe excused herself, but was + informed by her mistress that it was what she liked. + </p> + <p> + ‘For the first two years,’ she resumed, ‘I could hardly speak a syllable. + I stammered, I reddened, I longed to be up in my room brushing and curling + my hair, and was ready to curtsey to everybody. Now I’m quite at home, for + I’ve plenty of courage—except about death, and I’m worse about death + than I was when I was a simple body with a gawk’s “lawks!” in her round + eyes and mouth for an egg. I wonder why that is? But isn’t death horrible? + And skeletons!’ The duchess shuddered. + </p> + <p> + ‘It depends upon the skeleton,’ said Beau Beamish, who had joined the + conversation. ‘Yours, madam, I would rather not meet, because she would + precipitate me into transports of regret for the loss of the flesh. I + have, however, met mine own and had reason for satisfaction with the + interview.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Your own skeleton, sir!’ said the duchess wonderingly and appalled. + </p> + <p> + ‘Unmistakably mine. I will call you to witness by an account of him.’ + </p> + <p> + Duchess Susan gaped, and, ‘Oh, don’t!’ she cried out; but added, ‘It ‘s + broad day, and I’ve got some one to sleep anigh me after dark’; with which + she smiled on Chloe, who promised her there was no matter for alarm. + </p> + <p> + ‘I encountered my gentleman as I was proceeding to my room at night,’ said + the beau, ‘along a narrow corridor, where it was imperative that one of us + should yield the ‘pas;’ and, I must confess it, we are all so amazingly + alike in our bones, that I stood prepared to demand place of him. For + indubitably the fellow was an obstruction, and at the first glance + repulsive. I took him for anybody’s skeleton, Death’s ensign, with his + cachinnatory skull, and the numbered ribs, and the extraordinary splay + feet—in fact, the whole ungainly and shaky hobbledehoy which man is + built on, and by whose image in his weaker moments he is haunted. I had, + to be frank, been dancing on a supper with certain of our choicest Wits + and Beauties. It is a recipe for conjuring apparitions. Now, then, thinks + I, my fine fellow, I will bounce you; and without a salutation I pressed + forward. Madam, I give you my word, he behaved to the full pitch as I + myself should have done under similar circumstances. Retiring upon an + inclination of his structure, he draws up and fetches me a bow of the + exact middle nick between dignity and service. I advance, he withdraws, + and again the bow, devoid of obsequiousness, majestically condescending. + These, thinks I, be royal manners. I could have taken him for the Sable + King in person, stripped of his mantle. On my soul, he put me to the + blush.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And is that all?’ asked the duchess, relieving herself with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, madam,’ quoth the beau, ‘do you not see that he could have been none + other than mine own, who could comport himself with that grand air and + gracefulness when wounded by his closest relative? Upon his opening my + door for me, and accepting the ‘pas,’ which I now right heartily accorded + him, I recognized at once both him and the reproof he had designedly dealt + me—or the wine supper I had danced on, perhaps I should say’ and I + protest that by such a display of supreme good breeding he managed to + convey the highest compliment ever received by man, namely the assurance, + that after the withering away of this mortal garb, I shall still be noted + for urbanity and elegancy. Nay, and more, immortally, without the slip I + was guilty of when I carried the bag of wine.’ + </p> + <p> + Duchess Susan fanned herself to assist her digestion of the anecdote. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, it’s not so frightful a story, and I know you are the great Mr. + Beamish;’ she said. + </p> + <p> + He questioned her whether the gentleman had signalled him to her on the + hill. + </p> + <p> + ‘What can he mean about a gentleman?’ she turned to Chloe. ‘My duke told + me you would meet me, sir. And you are to protect me. And if anything + happens, it is to be your fault.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Entirely,’ said the beau. ‘I shall therefore maintain a vigilant guard.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Except leaving me free. Oof! I’ve been boxed up so long. I declare, + Chloe, I feel like a best dress out for a holiday, and a bit afraid of + spoiling. I’m a real child, more than I was when my duke married me. I + seemed to go in and grow up again, after I was raised to fortune. And + nobody to tell of it! Fancy that! For you can’t talk to old gentlemen + about what’s going on in your heart.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How of young gentlemen?’ she was asked by the beau. + </p> + <p> + And she replied, ‘They find it out.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not if you do not assist them,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + Duchess Susan let her eyelids and her underlie half drop, as she looked at + him with the simple shyness of one of nature’s thoughts in her head at + peep on the pastures of the world. The melting blue eyes and the cherry + lip made an exceedingly quickening picture. ‘Now, I wonder if that is + true?’ she transferred her slyness to speech. + </p> + <p> + ‘Beware the middle-aged!’ he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + She appealed to Chloe. ‘And I’m sure they’re the nicest.’ + </p> + <p> + Chloe agreed that they were. + </p> + <p> + The duchess measured Chloe and the beau together, with a mind swift in + apprehending all that it hungered for. + </p> + <p> + She would have pursued the pleasing theme had she not been directed to + gaze below upon the towers and roofs of the Wells, shining sleepily in a + siesta of afternoon Summer sunlight. + </p> + <p> + With a spread of her silken robe, she touched the edifice of her hair, + murmuring to Chloe, ‘I can’t abide that powder. You shall see me walk in a + hoop. I can. I’ve done it to slow music till my duke clapped hands. I’m + nothing sitting to what I am on my feet. That’s because I haven’t got fine + language yet. I shall. It seems to come last. So, there ‘s the place. And + whereabouts do all the great people meet and prommy—?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They promenade where you see the trees, madam,’ said Chloe. + </p> + <p> + ‘And where is it where the ladies sit and eat jam tarts with whipped cream + on ‘em, while the gentlemen stand and pay compliments?’ + </p> + <p> + Chloe said it was at a shop near the pump room. + </p> + <p> + Duchess Susan looked out over the house-tops, beyond the dusty hedges. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, and that powder!’ she cried. ‘I hate to be out of the fashion and a + spectacle. But I do love my own hair, and I have such a lot, and I like + the colour, and so does my duke. Only, don’t let me be fingered at. If + once I begin to blush before people, my courage is gone; my singing inside + me is choked; and I’ve a real lark going on in me all day long, rain or + sunshine—hush, all about love and amusement.’ + </p> + <p> + Chloe smiled, and Duchess Susan said, ‘Just like a bird, for I don’t know + what it is.’ + </p> + <p> + She looked for Chloe to say that she did. + </p> + <p> + At the moment a pair of mounted squires rode up, and the coach stopped, + while Beau Beamish gave orders for the church bells to be set ringing, and + the band to meet and precede his equipage at the head of the bath avenue: + ‘in honour of the arrival of her Grace the Duchess of Dewlap.’ + </p> + <p> + He delivered these words loudly to his men, and turned an effulgent gaze + upon the duchess, so that for a minute she was fascinated and did not + consult her hearing; but presently she fell into an uneasiness; the signs + increased, she bit her lip, and after breathing short once or twice, ‘Was + it meaning me, Mr. Beamish?’ she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘You, madam, are the person whom we ‘delight to honour,’ he replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘Duchess of what?’ she screwed uneasy features to hear. + </p> + <p> + ‘Duchess of Dewlap,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s not my title, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is your title on my territory, madam.’ + </p> + <p> + She made her pretty nose and upper lip ugly with a sneer of ‘Dew—! + And enter that town before all those people as Duchess of... Oh, no, I + won’t; I just won’t! Call back those men now, please; now, if you please. + Pray, Mr. Beamish! You’ll offend me, sir. I’m not going to be a mock. + You’ll offend my duke, sir. He’d die rather than have my feelings hurt. + Here’s all my pleasure spoilt. I won’t and I sha’n’t enter the town as + duchess of that stupid name, so call ‘em back, call ‘em back this instant. + I know who I am and what I am, and I know what’s due to me, I do.’ + </p> + <p> + Beau Beamish rejoined, ‘I too. Chloe will tell you I am lord here.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I’ll go home, I will. I won’t be laughed at for a great lady ninny. + I’m a real lady of high rank, and such I’ll appear. What ‘s a Duchess of + Dewlap? One might as well be Duchess of Cowstail, Duchess of Mopsend. And + those people! But I won’t be that. I won’t be played with. I see them + staring! No, I can make up my mind, and I beg you to call back your men, + or I’ll go back home.’ She muttered, ‘Be made fun of—made a fool + of!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Your Grace’s chariot is behind,’ said the beau. + </p> + <p> + His despotic coolness provoked her to an outcry and weeping: she repeated, + ‘Dewlap! Dewlap!’ in sobs; she shook her shoulders and hid her face. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are proud of your title, are you, madam?’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am.’ She came out of her hands to answer him proudly. ‘That I am!’ she + meant for a stronger affirmation. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then mark me,’ he said impressively; ‘I am your duke’s friend, and you + are under my charge here. I am your guardian and you are my ward, and you + can enter the town only on the condition of obedience to me. Now, mark me, + madam; no one can rob you of your real name and title saving yourself. But + you are entering a place where you will encounter a thousand temptations + to tarnish, and haply forfeit it. Be warned do nothing that will.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I’m to have my own title?’ said she, clearing up. + </p> + <p> + ‘For the month of your visit you are Duchess of Dewlap.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I say I sha’n’t!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You shall.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Never, sir!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I command it.’ + </p> + <p> + She flung herself forward, with a wail, upon Chloe’s bosom. ‘Can’t you do + something for me?’ she whimpered. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is impossible to move Mr. Beamish,’ Chloe said. + </p> + <p> + Out of a pause, composed of sobs and sighs, the duchess let loose in a + broken voice: ‘Then I ‘m sure I think—I think I’d rather have met—have + met his skeleton!’ + </p> + <p> + Her sincerity was equal to wit. + </p> + <p> + Beau Beamish shouted. He cordially applauded her, and in the genuine + kindness of an admiration that surprised him, he permitted himself the + liberty of taking and saluting her fingers. She fancied there was another + chance for her, but he frowned at the mention of it. + </p> + <p> + Upon these proceedings the exhilarating sound of the band was heard; + simultaneously a festival peal of bells burst forth; and an admonishment + of the necessity for concealing her chagrin and exhibiting both station + and a countenance to the people, combined with the excitement of the new + scenes and the marching music to banish the acuter sense of disappointment + from Duchess Susan’s mind; so she very soon held herself erect, and wore a + face open to every wonder, impressionable as the blue lake-surface, + crisped here and there by fitful breezes against a level sun. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + It was an axiom with Mr. Beamish, our first, if not our only philosophical + beau and a gentleman of some thoughtfulness, that the social English + require tyrannical government as much as the political are able to + dispense with it: and this he explained by an exposition of the character + of a race possessed of the eminent virtue of individual self-assertion, + which causes them to insist on good elbowroom wherever they gather + together. Society, however, not being tolerable where the smoothness of + intercourse is disturbed by a perpetual punching of sides, the merits of + the free citizen in them become their demerits when a fraternal circle is + established, and they who have shown an example of civilization too + notable in one sphere to call for eulogy, are often to be seen elbowing on + the ragged edge of barbarism in the other. They must therefore be reduced + to accept laws not of their own making, and of an extreme rigidity. + </p> + <p> + Here too is a further peril; for the gallant spirits distinguishing them + in the state of independence may (he foresaw the melancholy experience of + a later age) abandon them utterly in subjection, and the glorious + boisterousness befitting the village green forsake them even in their + haunts of liberal association, should they once be thoroughly tamed by + authority. Our ‘merrie England’ will then be long-faced England, an + England of fallen chaps, like a boar’s head, bearing for speech a lemon in + the mouth: good to feast on, mayhap; not with! + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish would actually seem to have foreseen the danger of a + transition that he could watch over only in his time; and, as he said, ‘I + go, as I came, on a flash’; he had neither ancestry nor descendants: he + was a genius, he knew himself a solitary, therefore, in spite of his + efforts to create his like. Within his district he did effect something, + enough to give him fame as one of the princely fathers of our domestic + civilization, though we now appear to have lost by it more than formerly + we gained. The chasing of the natural is ever fraught with dubious + hazards. If it gallops back, according to the proverb, it will do so at + the charge: commonly it gallops off, quite off; and then for any kind of + animation our precarious dependence is upon brains: we have to live on our + wits, which are ordinarily less productive than land, and cannot be + remitted in entail. + </p> + <p> + Rightly or wrongly (there are differences of opinion about it) Mr. Beamish + repressed the chthonic natural with a rod of iron beneath his rule. The + hoyden and the bumpkin had no peace until they had given public imitations + of the lady and the gentleman; nor were the lady and the gentleman + privileged to be what he called ‘free flags.’ He could be charitable to + the passion, but he bellowed the very word itself (hauled up smoking from + the brimstone lake) against them that pretended to be shamelessly guilty + of the peccadilloes of gallantry. His famous accost of a lady threatening + to sink, and already performing like a vessel in that situation: ‘So, + madam, I hear you are preparing to enrol yourself in the very ancient + order?’... (he named it) was a piece of insolence that involved him in + some discord with the lady’s husband and ‘the rascal steward,’ as he chose + to term the third party in these affairs: yet it is reputed to have saved + the lady. + </p> + <p> + Furthermore, he attacked the vulgarity of persons of quality, and he has + told a fashionable dame who was indulging herself in a marked sneer of + disdain, not improving to her features, ‘that he would be pleased to have + her assurance it was her face she presented to mankind’: a thing—thanks + perhaps to him chiefly—no longer possible of utterance. One of the + sex asking him why he addressed his persecutions particularly to women: + ‘Because I fight your battles,’ says he, ‘and I find you in the ranks of + the enemy.’ He treated them as traitors. + </p> + <p> + He was nevertheless well supported by a sex that compensates for dislike + of its friend before a certain age by a cordial recognition of him when it + has touched the period. A phalanx of great dames gave him the terrors of + Olympus for all except the natively audacious, the truculent and the + insufferably obtuse; and from the midst of them he launched decree and + bolt to good effect: not, of course, without receiving return missiles, + and not without subsequent question whether the work of that man was + beneficial to the country, who indeed tamed the bumpkin squire and his + brood, but at the cost of their animal spirits and their gift of speech; + viz. by making petrifactions of them. In the surgical operation of + tracheotomy, a successful treatment of the patient hangs, we believe, on + the promptness and skill of the introduction of the artificial windpipe; + and it may be that our unhappy countrymen when cut off from the source of + their breath were not neatly handled; or else that there is a physical + opposition in them to anything artificial, and it must be nature or + nothing. The dispute shall be left where it stands. + </p> + <p> + Now, to venture upon parading a beautiful young Duchess of Dewlap, with an + odour of the shepherdess about her notwithstanding her acquired art of + stepping conformably in a hoop, and to demand full homage of respect for a + lady bearing such a title, who had the intoxicating attractions of the + ruddy orchard apple on the tree next the roadside wall, when the owner is + absent, was bold in Mr. Beamish, passing temerity; nor would even he have + attempted it had he not been assured of the support of his phalanx of + great ladies. They indeed, after being taken into the secret, had + stipulated that first they must have an inspection of the transformed + dairymaid; and the review was not unfavourable. Duchess Susan came out of + it more scatheless than her duke. She was tongue-tied, and her tutored + walking and really admirable stature helped her to appease, the critics of + her sex; by whom her too readily blushful innocence was praised, with a + reserve, expressed in the remark, that she was a monstrous fine toy for a + duke’s second childhood, and should never have been let fly from his + nursery. Her milliner was approved. The duke was a notorious connoisseur + of female charms, and would see, of course, to the decorous adornment of + her person by the best of modistes. Her smiling was pretty, her eyes were + soft; she might turn out good, if well guarded for a time; but these + merits of the woman are not those of the great lady, and her title was too + strong a beam on her character to give it a fair chance with her critics. + They one and all recommended powder for her hair and cheeks. That odour of + the shepherdess could be exorcised by no other means, they declared. Her + blushing was indecent. + </p> + <p> + Truly the critics of the foeman sex behaved in a way to cause the blushes + to swarm rosy as the troops of young Loves round Cytherea in her + sea-birth, when, some soaring, and sinking some, they flutter like her + loosened zone, and breast the air thick as flower petals on the summer’s + breath, weaving her net for the world. Duchess Susan might protest her + inability to keep her blushes down; that the wrong was done by the + insolent eyes, and not by her artless cheeks. Ay, but nature, if we are to + tame these men, must be swathed and concealed, partly stifled, absolutely + stifled upon occasion. The natural woman does not move a foot without + striking earth to conjure up the horrid apparition of the natural man, who + is not as she, but a cannibal savage. To be the light which leads, it is + her business to don the misty vesture of an idea, that she may dwell as an + idea in men’s minds, very dim, very powerful, but abstruse, unseizable. + Much wisdom was imparted to her on the subject, and she understood a + little, and echoed hollow to the remainder, willing to show entire + docility as far as her intelligence consented to be awake. She was in that + stage of the dainty, faintly tinged innocence of the amorousness of + themselves when beautiful young women who have not been caught for + schooling in infancy deem it a defilement to be made to appear other than + the blessed nature has made them, which has made them beautiful, and + surely therefore deserves to be worshipped. The lectures of the great + ladies and Chloe’s counsels failed to persuade her to use the powder + puff-ball. Perhaps too, as timidity quitted her, she enjoyed her + distinctiveness in their midst. + </p> + <p> + But the distinctiveness of a Duchess of Dewlap with the hair and cheeks of + our native fields, was fraught with troubles outrunning Mr. Beamish’s + calculations. He had perceived that she would be attractive; he had not + reckoned on the homogeneousness of her particular English charms. A beauty + in red, white, and blue is our goddess Venus with the apple of Paris in + her hand; and after two visits to the Pump Room, and one promenade in the + walks about the Assembly House, she had as completely divided the ordinary + guests of the Wells into male and female in opinion as her mother Nature + had done in it sex. And the men would not be silenced; they had gazed on + their divinest, and it was for the women to succumb to that unwholesome + state, so full of thunder. Knights and squires, military and rural, threw + up their allegiance right and left to devote themselves to this robust new + vision, and in their peculiar manner, with a general View-halloo, and + Yoicks, Tally-ho, and away we go, pelt ahead! Unexampled as it is in + England for Beauty to kindle the ardours of the scent of the fox, Duchess + Susan did more—she turned all her followers into hounds; they were + madmen: within a very few days of her entrance bets raged about her, and + there were brawls, jolly flings at her character in the form of lusty + encomium, givings of the lie, and upon one occasion a knock-down blow in + public, as though the place had never known the polishing touch of Mr. + Beamish. + </p> + <p> + He was thrown into great perplexity by that blow. Discountenancing the + duel as much as he could, an affair of the sword was nevertheless more + tolerable than the brutal fist: and of all men to be guilty of it, who + would have anticipated the young Alonzo, Chloe’s quiet, modest lover! He + it was. The case came before Mr. Beamish for his decision; he had to + pronounce an impartial judgement, and for some time, during the + examination of evidence, he suffered, as he assures us in his Memoirs, a + royal agony. To have to strike with the glaive of Justice them whom they + most esteem, is the greatest affliction known to kings. He would have done + it: he deserved to reign. Happily the evidence against the gentleman who + was tumbled, Mr. Ralph Shepster, excused Mr. Augustus Camwell, otherwise + Alonzo, for dealing with him promptly to shut his mouth. + </p> + <p> + This Shepster, a raw young squire, ‘reeking,’ Beau Beamish writes of him, + ‘one half of the soil, and t’ other half of the town,’ had involved Chloe + in his familiar remarks upon the Duchess of Dewlap; and the personal + respect entertained by Mr. Beamish for Chloe so strongly approved Alonzo’s + championship of her, that in giving judgement he laid stress on young + Alonzo’s passion for Chloe, to prove at once the disinterestedness of the + assailant, and the judicial nature of the sentence: which was, that Mr. + Ralph Shepster should undergo banishment, and had the right to demand + reparation. The latter part of this decree assisted in effecting the + execution of the former. Shepster declined cold steel, calling it murder, + and was effusive of nature’s logic on the subject. + </p> + <p> + ‘Because a man comes and knocks me down, I’m to go up to him and ask him + to run me through!’ + </p> + <p> + His shake of the head signified that he was not such a noodle. Voluble and + prolific of illustration, as is no one so much as a son of nature inspired + to speak her words of wisdom, he defied the mandate, and refused himself + satisfaction, until in the strangest manner possible flights of white + feathers beset him, and he became a mark for persecution too trying for + the friendship of his friends. He fled, repeating his tale, that he had + seen ‘Beamish’s Duchess,’ and Chloe attending her, at an assignation in + the South Grove, where a gentleman, unknown to the Wells, presented + himself to the adventurous ladies, and they walked together—a tale + ending with nods. + </p> + <p> + Shepster’s banishment was one of those victories of justice upon which + mankind might be congratulated if they left no commotion behind. But, as + when a boy has been horsed before his comrades, dread may visit them, yet + is there likewise devilry in the school; and everywhere over earth a + summary punishment that does not sweep the place clear is likely to infect + whom it leaves remaining. The great law-givers, Lycurgus, Draco, Solon, + Beamish, sorrowfully acknowledge that they have had recourse to infernal + agents, after they have thus purified their circle of an offender. Doctors + confess to the same of their physic. The expelling agency has next to be + expelled, and it is a subtle poison, affecting our spirits. Duchess Susan + had now the incense of a victim to heighten her charms; like the + treasure-laden Spanish galleon for whom, on her voyage home from South + American waters, our enterprising light-craft privateers lay in wait, she + had the double attraction of being desirable and an enemy. To watch above + her conscientiously was a harassing business. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish sent for Chloe, and she came to him at once. Her look was + curious; he studied it while they conversed. So looks one who is watching + the sure flight of an arrow, or the happy combinations of an intrigue. + Saying, ‘I am no inquisitor, child,’ he ventured upon two or three modest + inquisitions with regard to her mistress. The title he had disguised + Duchess Susan in, he confessed to rueing as the principal cause of the + agitation of his principality. ‘She is courted,’ he said, ‘less like a + citadel waving a flag than a hostelry where the demand is for sitting room + and a tankard! These be our manners. Yet, I must own, a Duchess of Dewlap + is a provocation, and my exclusive desire to protect the name of my lord + stands corrected by the perils environing his lady. She is other than I + supposed her; she is, we will hope, an excellent good creature, but too + attractive for most and drawbridge and the customary defences to be + neglected. + </p> + <p> + Chloe met his interrogatory with a ready report of the young duchess’s + innocence and good nature that pacified Mr. Beamish. + </p> + <p> + ‘And you?’ said he. + </p> + <p> + She smiled for answer. + </p> + <p> + That smile was not the common smile; it was one of an eager exultingness, + producing as he gazed the twitch of an inquisitive reflection of it on his + lips. Such a smile bids us guess and quickens us to guess, warns us we + burn and speeds our burning, and so, like an angel wafting us to some + heaven-feasting promontory, lifts us out of ourselves to see in the + universe of colour what the mouth has but pallid speech to tell. That is + the very heart’s language; the years are in a look, as mount and vale of + the dark land spring up in lightning. + </p> + <p> + He checked himself: he scarce dared to say it. + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + ‘You have seen the man, Chloe?’ + </p> + <p> + Her smiling broke up in the hard lines of an ecstasy neighbouring pain. + ‘He has come; he is here; he is faithful; he has not forgotten me. I was + right. I knew! I knew!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Caseldy has come?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He has come. Do not ask. To have him! to see him! Mr. Beamish, he is + here.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘At last!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Cruel!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, Caseldy has come, then! But now, friend Chloe, you should be made + aware that the man—’ + </p> + <p> + She stopped her ears. As she did so, Mr. Beamish observed a thick silken + skein dangling from one hand. Part of it was plaited, and at the upper end + there was a knot. It resembled the commencement of her manufactory of a + whip: she swayed it to and fro, allowing him to catch and lift the threads + on his fingers for the purpose of examining her work. There was no special + compliment to pay, so he dropped it without remark. + </p> + <p> + Their faces had expressed her wish to hear nothing from him of Caseldy and + his submission to say nothing. Her happiness was too big; she appeared to + beg to lie down with it on her bosom, in the manner of an outworn, young + mother who has now first received her infant in her arms from the nurse. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + Humouring Chloe with his usual considerateness, Mr. Beamish forbore to + cast a shadow on her new-born joy, and even within himself to doubt the + security of its foundation. Caseldy’s return to the Wells was at least + some assurance of his constancy, seeing that here they appointed to meet + when he and Chloe last parted. All might be well, though it was + unexplained why he had not presented himself earlier. To the lightest + inquiry Chloe’s reply was a shiver of happiness. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, Mr. Beamish calculated that Caseldy would be a serviceable ally + in commanding a proper respect for her Grace the Duchess of Dewlap. So he + betook himself cheerfully to Caseldy’s lodgings to deliver a message of + welcome, meeting, on his way thither, Mr. Augustus Camwell, with whom he + had a short conversation, greatly to his admiration of the enamoured young + gentleman’s goodness and self-compression in speaking of Caseldy and + Chloe’s better fortune. Mr. Camwell seemed hurried. + </p> + <p> + Caseldy was not at home, and Mr. Beamish proceeded to the lodgings of the + duchess. Chloe had found her absent. The two consulted. Mr. Beamish put on + a serious air, until Chloe mentioned the pastrycook’s shop, for Duchess + Susan had a sweet tooth; she loved a visit to the pastrycook’s, whose jam + tarts were dearer to her than his more famous hot mutton pies. The pastry + cook informed Mr. Beamish that her Grace had been in his shop, earlier + than usual, as it happened, and accompanied by a foreign-looking gentleman + wearing moustachois. Her Grace, the pastrycook said, had partaken of + several tarts, in common with the gentleman, who complimented him upon his + excelling the Continental confectioner. Mr. Beamish glanced at Chloe. He + pursued his researches down at the Pump Room, while she looked round the + ladies’ coffee house. Encountering again, they walked back to the + duchess’s lodgings, where a band stood playing in the road, by order of + her Grace; but the duchess was away, and had not been seen since her + morning’s departure. + </p> + <p> + ‘What sort of character would you give mistress Susan of Dewlap, from your + personal acquaintance with it?’ said Mr. Beamish to Chloe, as they stepped + from the door. + </p> + <p> + Chloe mused and said, ‘I would add “good” to the unkindest comparison you + could find for her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But accepting the comparison!’ Mr. Beamish nodded, and revolved upon the + circumstance of their being very much in nature’s hands with Duchess + Susan, of whom it might be said that her character was good, yet all the + more alive to the temptations besetting the Spring season. He allied + Chloe’s adjective to a number of epithets equally applicable to nature and + to women, according to current ideas, concluding: ‘Count, they call your + Caseldy at his lodgings. “The Count he is out for an airing.” He is + counted out. Ah! you will make him drop that “Count” when he takes you + from here.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do not speak of the time beyond the month,’ said Chloe, so urgently on a + rapid breath as to cause Mr. Beamish to cast an inquiring look at her. + </p> + <p> + She answered it, ‘Is not one month of brightness as much as we can ask + for?’ + </p> + <p> + The beau clapped his elbows complacently to his sides in philosophical + concord with her sentiment. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon, on the parade, they were joined by Mr. Camwell, among + groups of fashionable ladies and their escorts, pacing serenely, by + medical prescription, for an appetite. As he did not comment on the + absence of the duchess, Mr. Beamish alluded to it; whereupon he was + informed that she was about the meadows, and had been there for some + hours. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not unguarded,’ he replied to Mr. Beamish. + </p> + <p> + ‘Aha!’ quoth the latter; ‘we have an Argus!’ and as the duchess was not on + the heights, and the sun’s rays were mild in cloud, he agreed to his young + friend’s proposal that they should advance to meet her. Chloe walked with + them, but her face was disdainful; at the stiles she gave her hand to Mr. + Beamish; she did not address a word to Mr. Camwell, and he knew the + reason. Nevertheless he maintained his air of soldierly resignation to the + performance of duty, and held his head like a gentleman unable to conceive + the ignominy of having played spy. Chloe shrank from him. + </p> + <p> + Duchess Susan was distinguished coming across a broad uncut meadow, + tirra-lirraing beneath a lark, Caseldy in attendance on her. She stopped + short and spoke to him; then came forward, crying ingenuously. ‘Oh, Mr. + Beamish, isn’t this just what you wanted me to do?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, madam,’ said he, ‘you had my injunctions to the contrary.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘La!’ she exclaimed, ‘I thought I was to run about in the fields now and + then to preserve my simplicity. I know I was told so, and who told me!’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish bowed effusively to the introduction of Caseldy, whose fingers + he touched in sign of the renewal of acquaintance, and with a laugh + addressed the duchess: + </p> + <p> + ‘Madam, you remind me of a tale of my infancy. I had a juvenile comrade of + the tenderest age, by name Tommy Plumston, and he enjoyed the privilege of + intimacy with a component urchin yclept Jimmy Clungeon, with which + adventurous roamer, in defiance of his mother’s interdict against his + leaving the house for a minute during her absence from home, he departed + on a tour of the district, resulting, perhaps as a consequence of its + completeness, in this, that at a distance computed at four miles from the + maternal mansion, he perceived his beloved mama with sufficient clearness + to feel sure that she likewise had seen him. Tommy consulted with Jimmy, + and then he sprang forward on a run to his frowning mama, and delivered + himself in these artless words, which I repeat as they were uttered, to + give you the flavour of the innocent babe: he said, “I frink I frought I + hear you call me, ma! and Jimmy Clungeon, he frought he frink so too!” So, + you see, the pair of them were under the impression that they were doing + right. There is a delicate distinction in the tenses of each frinking + where the other frought, enough in itself to stamp sincerity upon the + statement.’ + </p> + <p> + Caseldy said, ‘The veracity of a boy possessing a friend named Clungeon is + beyond contest.’ + </p> + <p> + Duchess Susan opened her eyes. ‘Four miles from home! And what did his + mother do to him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Tommy’s mama,’ said Mr. Beamish, and with the resplendent licence of the + period which continued still upon tolerable terms with nature under the + compromise of decorous ‘Oh-fie!’ flatly declared the thing she did. + </p> + <p> + ‘I fancy, sir, that I caught sight of your figure on the hill yonder about + an hour or so earlier,’ said Caseldy to Mr. Camwell. + </p> + <p> + ‘If it was at the time when you were issuing from that wood, sir, your + surmise is correct,’ said the young gentleman. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are long-sighted, sir!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And so am I.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And I,’ said Chloe. + </p> + <p> + ‘Our Chloe will distinguish you accurately at a mile, and has done it,’ + observed Mr. Beamish. + </p> + <p> + ‘One guesses tiptoe on a suspicion, and if one is wrong it passes, and if + one is right it is a miracle,’ she said, and raised her voice on a song to + quit the subject. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, ay, Chloe; so then you had a suspicion, you rogue, the day we had the + pleasure of meeting the duchess, had you?’ Mr. Beamish persisted. + </p> + <p> + Duchess Susan interposed. ‘Such a pretty song! and you to stop her, sir!’ + </p> + <p> + Caseldy took up the air. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, you two together!’ she cried. ‘I do love hearing music in the fields; + it is heavenly. Bands in the town and voices in the green fields, I say! + Couldn’t you join Chloe, Mr.... Count, sir, before we come among the + people, here where it ‘s all so nice and still. Music! and my heart does + begin so to pit-a-pat. Do you sing, Mr. Alonzo?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poorly,’ the young gentleman replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘But the Count can sing, and Chloe’s a real angel when she sings; and + won’t you, dear?’ she implored Chloe, to whom Caseldy addressed a prelude + with a bow and a flourish of the hand. + </p> + <p> + Chloe’s voice flew forth. Caseldy’s rich masculine matched it. The song + was gay; he snapped his finger at intervals in foreign style, singing + big-chested, with full notes and a fine abandonment, and the quickest + susceptibility to his fair companion’s cunning modulations, and an eye for + Duchess Susan’s rapture. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish and Mr. Camwell applauded them. + </p> + <p> + ‘I never can tell what to say when I’m brimming’; the duchess let fall a + sigh. ‘And he can play the flute, Mr. Beamish. He promised me he would go + into the orchestra and play a bit at one of your nice evening delicious + concerts, and that will be nice—Oh!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He promised you, madam, did he so?’ said the beau. ‘Was it on your way to + the Wells that he promised you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘On my way to the Wells!’ she exclaimed softly. ‘Why, how could anybody + promise me a thing before ever he saw me? I call that a strange thing to + ask a person. No, to-day, while we were promenading; and I should hear him + sing, he said. He does admire his Chloe so. Why, no wonder, is it, now? + She can do everything; knit, sew, sing, dance—and talk! She’s never + uneasy for a word. She makes whole scenes of things go round you, like a + picture peep-show, I tell her. And always cheerful. She hasn’t a minute of + grumps; and I’m sometimes a dish of stale milk fit only for pigs. + </p> + <p> + With your late hours here, I’m sure I want tickling in the morning, and + Chloe carols me one of her songs, and I say, “There’s my bird!”’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish added, ‘And you will remember she has a heart.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should think so!’ said the duchess. + </p> + <p> + ‘A heart, madam!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, what else?’ + </p> + <p> + Nothing other, the beau, by his aspect, was constrained to admit. + </p> + <p> + He appeared puzzled by this daughter of nature in a coronet; and more on + her remarking, ‘You know about her heart, Mr. Beamish.’ + </p> + <p> + He acquiesced, for of course he knew of her life-long devotion to Caseldy; + but there was archness in her tone. However, he did not expect a woman of + her education to have the tone perfectly concordant with the + circumstances. Speaking tentatively of Caseldy’s handsome face and figure, + he was pleased to hear the duchess say, ‘So I tell Chloe.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said he, ‘we must consider them united; they are one.’ + </p> + <p> + Duchess Susan replied, ‘That’s what I tell him; she will do anything you + wish.’ + </p> + <p> + He repeated these words with an interjection, and decided in his mind that + they were merely silly. She was a real shepherdess by birth and nature, + requiring a strong guard over her attractions on account of her + simplicity; such was his reading of the problem; he had conceived it at + the first sight of her, and always recurred to it under the influence of + her artless eyes, though his theories upon men and women were astute, and + that cavalier perceived by long-sighted Chloe at Duchess Susan’s coach + window perturbed him at whiles. Habitually to be anticipating the + simpleton in a particular person is the sure way of being sometimes the + dupe, as he would not have been the last to warn a neophyte; but abstract + wisdom is in need of an unappeased suspicion of much keenness of edge, if + we would have it alive to cope with artless eyes and our prepossessed + fancy of their artlessness. + </p> + <p> + ‘You talk of Chloe to him?’ he said. + </p> + <p> + She answered. ‘Yes, that I do. And he does love her! I like to hear him. + He is one of the gentlemen who don’t make me feel timid with them.’ + </p> + <p> + She received a short lecture on the virtues of timidity in preserving the + sex from danger; after which, considering that the lady who does not feel + timid with a particular cavalier has had no sentiment awakened, he + relinquished his place to Mr. Camwell, and proceeded to administer the + probe to Caseldy. + </p> + <p> + That gentleman was communicatively candid. Chloe had left him, and he + related how, summoned home to England and compelled to settle a dispute + threatening a lawsuit, he had regretfully to abstain from visiting the + Wells for a season, not because of any fear of the attractions of play—he + had subdued the frailty of the desire to play—but because he deemed + it due to his Chloe to bring her an untroubled face, and he wished first + to be the better of the serious annoyances besetting him. For some similar + reason he had not written; he wished to feast on her surprise. ‘And I had + my reward,’ he said, as if he had been the person principally to suffer + through that abstinence. ‘I found—I may say it to you, Mr. Beamish + love in her eyes. Divine by nature, she is one of the immortals, both in + appearance and in steadfastness.’ + </p> + <p> + They referred to Duchess Susan. Caseldy reluctantly owned that it would be + an unkindness to remove Chloe from attendance on her during the short + remaining term of her stay at the Wells; and so he had not proposed it, he + said, for the duchess was a child, an innocent, not stupid by any means; + but, of course, her transplanting from an inferior to an exalted position + put her under disadvantages. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish spoke of the difficulties of his post as guardian, and also of + the strange cavalier seen at her carriage window by Chloe. + </p> + <p> + Caseldy smiled and said, ‘If there was one—and Chloe is rather long—sighted—we + can hardly expect her to confess it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why not, sir, if she be this piece of innocence?’ Mr. Beamish was led to + inquire. + </p> + <p> + ‘She fears you, sir,’ Caseldy answered. ‘You have inspired her with an + extraordinary fear of you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have?’ said the beau: it had been his endeavour to inspire it, and he + swelled somewhat, rather with relief at the thought of his possessing a + power to control his delicate charge, than with our vanity; yet would it + be audacious to say that there was not a dose of the latter. He was a very + human man; and he had, as we have seen, his ideas of the effect of the + impression of fear upon the hearts of women. Something, in any case, + caused him to forget the cavalier. + </p> + <p> + They were drawn to the three preceding them, by a lively dissension + between Chloe and Mr. Camwell. + </p> + <p> + Duchess Susan explained it in her blunt style: ‘She wants him to go away + home, and he says he will, if she’ll give him that double skein of silk + she swings about, and she says she won’t, let him ask as long as he + pleases; so he says he sha’n’t go, and I’m sure I don’t see why he should; + and she says he may stay, but he sha’n’t have her necklace, she calls it. + So Mr. Camwell snatches, and Chloe fires up. Gracious, can’t she frown!—at + him. She never frowns at anybody but him.’ + </p> + <p> + Caseldy attempted persuasion on Mr. Camwell’s behalf. With his mouth at + Chloe’s ear, he said, ‘Give it; let the poor fellow have his memento; + despatch him with it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can hear! and that is really kind,’ exclaimed Duchess Susan. + </p> + <p> + ‘Rather a missy-missy schoolgirl sort of necklace,’ Mr. Beamish observed; + ‘but he might have it, without the dismissal, for I cannot consent to lose + Alonzo. No, madam,’ he nodded at the duchess. + </p> + <p> + Caseldy continued his whisper: ‘You can’t think of wearing a thing like + that about your neck?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed,’ said Chloe, ‘I think of it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, what fashion have you over here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is not yet a fashion,’ she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘A silken circlet will not well become any precious pendant that I know + of.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A bag of dust is not a very precious pendant,’ she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, a memento mori!’ cried he. + </p> + <p> + And she answered, ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + He rallied her for her superstition, pursuing, ‘Surely, my love, ‘tis a + cheap riddance of a pestilent, intrusive jaloux. Whip it into his hands + for a mittimus.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Does his presence distress you?’ she asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘I will own that to be always having the fellow dogging us, with his + dejected leer, is not agreeable. He watches us now, because my lips are + close by your cheek. He should be absent; he is one too many. Speed him on + his voyage with the souvenir he asks for.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I keep it for a journey of my own, which I may have to take,’ said Chloe. + </p> + <p> + ‘With me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You will follow; you cannot help following me, Caseldy.’ + </p> + <p> + He speculated on her front. She was tenderly smiling. ‘You are happy, + Chloe?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have never known such happiness,’ she said. The brilliancy of her eyes + confirmed it. + </p> + <p> + He glanced over at Duchess Susan, who was like a sunflower in the sun. His + glance lingered a moment. Her abundant and glowing young charms were the + richest fascination an eye like his could dwell on. ‘That is right,’ said + he. ‘We will be perfectly happy till the month ends. And after it? But get + us rid of Monsieur le Jeune; toss him that trifle; I spare him that. + ‘Twill be bliss to him, at the cost of a bit of silk thread to us. + Besides, if we keep him to cure him of his passion here, might it not be—these + boys veer suddenly, like the winds of Albion, from one fair object to t’ + other—at the cost of the precious and simple lady you are guarding? + I merely hint. These two affect one another, as though it could be. She + speaks of him. It shall be as you please, but a trifle like that, my + Chloe, to be rid of a green eye!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You much wish him gone?’ she said. + </p> + <p> + He shrugged. ‘The fellow is in our way.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You think him a little perilous for my innocent lady?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Candidly, I do.’ + </p> + <p> + She stretched the half-plaited silken rope in her two hands to try the + strength of it, made a second knot, and consigned it to her pocket. + </p> + <p> + At once she wore her liveliest playfellow air, in which character no one + was so enchanting as Chloe could be, for she became the comrade of men + without forfeit of her station among sage sweet ladies, and was like a + well-mannered sparkling boy, to whom his admiring seniors have given the + lead in sallies, whims, and fights; but pleasanter than a boy, the soft + hues of her sex toned her frolic spirit; she seemed her sex’s deputy, to + tell the coarser where they could meet, as on a bridge above the torrent + separating them, gaily for interchange of the best of either, unfired and + untempted by fire, yet with all the elements which make fire burn to + animate their hearts. + </p> + <p> + ‘Lucky the man who wins for himself that life-long cordial!’ Mr. Beamish + said to Duchess Susan. + </p> + <p> + She had small comprehension of metaphorical phrases, but she was quick at + reading faces; and comparing the enthusiasm on the face of the beau with + Caseldy’s look of troubled wonderment and regret, she pitied the lover + conscious of not having the larger share of his mistress’s affections. + When presently he looked at her, the tender-hearted woman could have cried + for very compassion, so sensible did he show himself of Chloe’s preference + of the other. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + That evening Duchess Susan played at the Pharaoh table and lost eight + hundred pounds, through desperation at the loss of twenty. After + encouraging her to proceed to this extremity, Caseldy checked her. He was + conducting her out of the Play room when a couple of young squires of the + Shepster order, and primed with wine, intercepted her to present their + condolences, which they performed with exaggerated gestures, intended for + broad mimicry of the courtliness imported from the Continent, and a very + dulcet harping on the popular variations of her Christian name, not + forgetting her singular title, ‘my lovely, lovely Dewlap!’ + </p> + <p> + She was excited and stunned by her immediate experience in the transfer of + money, and she said, ‘I ‘m sure I don’t know what you want.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes!’ cried they, striking their bosoms as guitars, and attempting the + posture of the thrummer on the instrument; ‘she knows. She does know. + Handsome Susie knows what we want.’ And one ejaculated, mellifluously, + ‘Oh!’ and the other ‘Ah!’ in flagrant derision of the foreign ways they + produced in boorish burlesque—a self-consolatory and a common trick + of the boor. + </p> + <p> + Caseldy was behind. He pushed forward and bowed to them. ‘Sirs, will you + mention to me what you want?’ + </p> + <p> + He said it with a look that meant steel. It cooled them sufficiently to + let him place the duchess under the protectorship of Mr. Beamish, then + entering from another room with Chloe; whereupon the pair of rustic bucks + retired to reinvigorate their valiant blood. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish had seen that there was cause for gratitude to Caseldy, to + whom he said, ‘She has lost?’ and he seemed satisfied on hearing the + amount of the loss, and commissioned Caseldy to escort the ladies to their + lodgings at once, observing, ‘Adieu, Count!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You will find my foreign title of use to you here, after a bout or two,’ + was the reply. + </p> + <p> + ‘No bouts, if possibly to be avoided; though I perceive how the flavour of + your countship may spread a wholesome alarm among our rurals, who will + readily have at you with fists, but relish not the tricky cold weapon.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish haughtily bowed the duchess away. + </p> + <p> + Caseldy seized the opportunity while handing her into her sedan to say, + ‘We will try the fortune-teller for a lucky day to have our revenge.’ + </p> + <p> + She answered: ‘Oh, don’t talk to me about playing again ever; I’m nigh on + a clean pocket, and never knew such a sinful place as this. I feel I’ve + tumbled into a ditch. And there’s Mr. Beamish, all top when he bows to me. + You’re keeping Chloe waiting, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Where was she while we were at the table?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sure she was with Mr. Beamish.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ he groaned. + </p> + <p> + ‘The poor soul is in despair over her losses to-night,’ he turned from the + boxed-up duchess to remark to Chloe. ‘Give her a comfortable cry and a few + moral maxims.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I will,’ she said. ‘You love me, Caseldy?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Love you? I? Your own? What assurance would you have?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘None, dear friend.’ + </p> + <p> + Here was a woman easily deceived. + </p> + <p> + In the hearts of certain men, owing to an intellectual contempt of easy + dupes, compunction in deceiving is diminished by the lightness of their + task; and that soft confidence which will often, if but passingly, bid + betrayers reconsider the charms of the fair soul they are abandoning, + commends these armoured knights to pursue with redoubled earnest the + fruitful ways of treachery. Their feelings are warm for their prey, + moreover; and choosing to judge their victim by the present warmth of + their feelings, they can at will be hurt, even to being scandalized, by a + coldness that does not waken one suspicion of them. Jealousy would have a + chance of arresting, for it is not impossible to tease them back to avowed + allegiance; but sheer indifference also has a stronger hold on them than + a, dull, blind trustfulness. They hate the burden it imposes; the blind + aspect is only touching enough to remind them of the burden, and they hate + if for that, and for the enormous presumption of the belief that they are + everlastingly bound to such an imbecile. She walks about with her eyes + shut, expecting not to stumble, and when she does, am I to blame? The + injured man asks it in the course of his reasoning. + </p> + <p> + He recurs to his victim’s merits, but only compassionately, and the + compassion is chilled by the thought that she may in the end start across + his path to thwart him. Thereat he is drawn to think of the prize she may + rob him of; and when one woman is an obstacle, the other shines desirable + as life beyond death; he must have her; he sees her in the hue of his + desire for her, and the obstacle in that of his repulsion. Cruelty is no + more than the man’s effort to win the wished object. + </p> + <p> + She should not leave it to his imagination to conceive that in the end the + blind may awaken to thwart him. Better for her to cast him hence, or let + him know that she will do battle to keep him. But the pride of a love that + has hardened in the faithfulness of love cannot always be wise on trial. + </p> + <p> + Caseldy walked considerably in the rear of the couple of chairs. He saw on + his way what was coming. His two young squires were posted at Duchess + Susan’s door when she arrived, and he received a blow from one of them in + clearing a way for her. She plucked at his hand. ‘Have they hurt you?’ she + asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Think of me to-night thanking them and heaven for this, my darling,’ he + replied, with a pressure that lit the flying moment to kindle the after + hours. + </p> + <p> + Chloe had taken help of one of her bearers to jump out. She stretched a + finger at the unruly intruders, crying sternly, ‘There is blood on you—come + not nigh me!’ The loftiest harangue would not have been so cunning to + touch their wits. They stared at one another in the clear moonlight. Which + of them had blood on him? As they had not been for blood, but for rough + fun, and something to boast of next day, they gesticulated according to + the first instructions of the dancing master, by way of gallantry, and + were out of Caseldy’s path when he placed himself at his liege lady’s + service. ‘Take no notice of them, dear,’ she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no,’ said he; and ‘What is it?’ and his hoarse accent and shaking + clasp of her arm sickened her to the sensation of approaching death. + </p> + <p> + Upstairs Duchess Susan made a show of embracing her. Both were trembling. + The duchess ascribed her condition to those dreadful men. ‘What makes them + be at me so?’ she said. + </p> + <p> + And Chloe said, ‘Because you are beautiful.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Am I?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very beautiful; young and beautiful; beautiful in the bud. You will learn + to excuse them, madam.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, Chloe—’ The duchess shut her mouth. Out of a languid reverie, + she sighed: ‘I suppose I must be! My duke—oh, don’t talk of him. + Dear man! he’s in bed and fast asleep long before this. I wonder how he + came to let me come here. + </p> + <p> + I did bother him, I know. Am I very, very beautiful, Chloe, so that men + can’t help themselves?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very, madam.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There, good-night. I want to be in bed, and I can’t kiss you because you + keep calling me madam, and freeze me to icicles; but I do love you, + Chloe.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure you do.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m quite certain I do. I know I never mean harm. But how are we women + expected to behave, then? Oh, I’m unhappy, I am.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You must abstain from playing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s that! I’ve lost my money—I forgot. And I shall have to confess + it to my duke, though he warned me. Old men hold their fingers up—so! + One finger: and you never forget the sight of it, never. It’s a round + finger, like the handle of a jug, and won’t point at you when they’re + lecturing, and the skin’s like an old coat on gaffer’s shoulders—or, + Chloe! just like, when you look at the nail, a rumpled counterpane up to + the face of a corpse. I declare, it’s just like! I feel as if I didn’t a + bit mind talking of corpses tonight. And my money’s gone, and I don’t much + mind. I’m a wild girl again, handsomer than when that——he is a + dear, kind, good old nobleman, with his funny old finger: “Susan! Susan!” + I’m no worse than others. Everybody plays here; everybody superior. Why, + you have played, Chloe.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Never!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve heard you say you played once, and a bigger stake it was, you said, + than anybody ever did play.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not money.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What then?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My life.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Goodness—yes! I understand. I understand everything to-night-men + too. So you did!—They’re not so shamefully wicked, Chloe. Because I + can’t see the wrong of human nature—if we’re discreet, I mean. Now + and then a country dance and a game, and home to bed and dreams. There’s + no harm in that, I vow. And that’s why you stayed at this place. You like + it, Chloe?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am used to it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But when you’re married to Count Caseldy you’ll go?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, then.’ + </p> + <p> + She uttered it so joylessly that Duchess Susan added, with intense + affectionateness, ‘You’re not obliged to marry him, dear Chloe.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nor he me, madam.’ + </p> + <p> + The duchess caught at her impulsively to kiss her, and said she would + undress herself, as she wished to be alone. + </p> + <p> + From that night she was a creature inflamed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + The total disappearance of the pair of heroes who had been the latest in + the conspiracy to vex his delicate charge, gave Mr. Beamish a high opinion + of Caseldy as an assistant in such an office as he held. They had gone, + and nothing more was heard of them. Caseldy confined his observations on + the subject to the remark that he had employed the best means to be rid of + that kind of worthies; and whether their souls had fled, or only their + bodies, was unknown. But the duchess had quiet promenades with Caseldy to + guard her, while Mr. Beamish counted the remaining days of her visit with + the impatience of a man having cause to cast eye on a clock. For Duchess + Susan was not very manageable now; she had fits of insurgency, and plainly + said that her time was short, and she meant to do as she liked, go where + she liked, play when she liked, and be an independent woman—if she + was so soon to be taken away and boxed in a castle that was only a bigger + sedan. + </p> + <p> + Caseldy protested he was as helpless as the beau. He described the + annoyance of his incessant running about at her heels in all directions + amusingly, and suggested that she must be beating the district to recover + her ‘strange cavalier,’ of whom, or of one that had ridden beside her + carriage half a day on her journey to the Wells, he said she had dropped a + sort of hint. He complained of the impossibility of his getting an hour in + privacy with his Chloe. + </p> + <p> + ‘And I, accustomed to consult with her, see too little of her,’ said Mr. + Beamish. ‘I shall presently be seeing nothing, and already I am sensible + of my loss.’ + </p> + <p> + He represented his case to Duchess Susan:—that she was for ever + driving out long distances and taking Chloe from him, when his occupation + precluded his accompanying them; and as Chloe soon was to be lost to him + for good, he deeply felt her absence. + </p> + <p> + The duchess flung him enigmatical rejoinders: ‘You can change all that, + Mr. Beamish, if you like, and you know you can. Oh, yes, you can. But you + like being a butterfly, and when you’ve made ladies pale you’re happy: and + there they’re to stick and wither for you. Never!—I’ve that pride. I + may be worried, but I’ll never sink to green and melancholy for a man.’ + </p> + <p> + She bridled at herself in a mirror, wherein not a sign of paleness was + reflected. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish meditated, and he thought it prudent to speak to Caseldy + manfully of her childish suspicions, lest she should perchance in like + manner perturb the lover’s mind. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, make your mind easy, my dear sir, as far as I am concerned,’ said + Caseldy. ‘But, to tell you the truth, I think I can interpret her creamy + ladyship’s innuendos a little differently and quite as clearly. For my + part, I prefer the pale to the blowsy, and I stake my right hand on + Chloe’s fidelity. Whatever harm I may have the senseless cruelty—misfortune, + I may rather call it—to do that heavenly-minded woman in our days to + come, none shall say of me that I was ever for an instant guilty of the + baseness of doubting her purity and constancy. And, sir, I will add that I + could perfectly rely also on your honour.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish bowed. ‘You do but do me justice. But, say, what + interpretation?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She began by fearing you,’ said Caseldy, creating a stare that was + followed by a frown. ‘She fancies you neglect her. Perhaps she has a + woman’s suspicion that you do it to try her.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish frenetically cited his many occupations. ‘How can I be ever + dancing attendance on her?’ Then he said, ‘Pooh,’ and tenderly fingered + the ruffles of his wrist. ‘Tush, tush,’ said he, ‘no, no: though if it + came to a struggle between us, I might in the interests of my old friend, + her lord, whom I have reasons for esteeming, interpose an influence that + would make the exercise of my authority agreeable. Hitherto I have seen no + actual need of it, and I watch keenly. Her eye has been on Colonel + Poltermore once or twice his on her. The woman is a rose in June, sir, and + I forgive the whole world for looking—and for longing too. But I + have observed nothing serious.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He is of our party to the beacon-head to-morrow,’ said Caseldy. ‘She + insisted that she would have him; and at least it will grant me furlough + for an hour.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do me the service to report to me,’ said Mr. Beamish. + </p> + <p> + In this fashion he engaged Caseldy to supply him with inventions, and + prepared himself to swallow them. It was Poltermore and Poltermore, the + Colonel here, the Colonel there until the chase grew so hot that Mr. + Beamish could no longer listen to young Mr. Camwell’s fatiguing drone upon + his one theme of the double-dealing of Chloe’s betrothed. He became of her + way of thinking, and treated the young gentleman almost as coldly as she. + In time he was ready to guess of his own acuteness that the ‘strange + cavalier’ could have been no other than Colonel Poltermore. When Caseldy + hinted it, Mr. Beamish said, ‘I have marked him.’ He added, in highly + self-satisfied style, ‘With all your foreign training, my friend, you will + learn that we English are not so far behind you in the art of unravelling + an intrigue in the dark.’ To which Caseldy replied, that the Continental + world had little to teach Mr. Beamish. + </p> + <p> + Poor Colonel Poltermore, as he came to be called, was clearly a victim of + the sudden affability of Duchess Susan. The transformation of a stiff + military officer into a nimble Puck, a runner of errands and a sprightly + attendant, could not pass without notice. The first effect of her + discriminating condescension on this unfortunate gentleman was to make him + the champion of her claims to breeding. She had it by nature, she was + Nature’s great lady, he would protest to the noble dames of the circle he + moved in; and they admitted that she was different in every way from a + bourgeoise elevated by marriage to lofty rank: she was not vulgar. But + they remained doubtful of the perfect simplicity of a young woman who + worked such changes in men as to render one of the famous conquerors of + the day her agitated humble servant. By rapid degrees the Colonel had + fallen to that. When not by her side, he was ever marching with sharp + strides, hurrying through rooms and down alleys and groves until he had + discovered and attached himself to her skirts. And, curiously, the object + of his jealousy was the devoted Alonzo! Mr. Beamish laughed when he heard + of it. The lady’s excitement and giddy mien, however, accused Poltermore + of a stage of success requiring to be combated immediately. There was + mention of Duchess Susan’s mighty wish to pay a visit to the popular + fortune-teller of the hut on the heath, and Mr. Beamish put his veto on + the expedition. She had obeyed him by abstaining from play of late, so he + fully expected, that his interdict would be obeyed; and besides the + fortune-teller was a rogue of a sham astrologer known to have foretold to + certain tender ladies things they were only too desirous to imagine + predestined by an extraordinary indication of the course of planets + through the zodiac, thus causing them to sin by the example of celestial + conjunctions—a piece of wanton impiety. The beau took high ground in + his objections to the adventure. Nevertheless, Duchess Susan did go. She + drove to the heath at an early hour of the morning, attended by Chloe, + Colonel Poltermore, and Caseldy. They subsequently breakfasted at an inn + where gipsy repasts were occasionally served to the fashion, and they were + back at the wells as soon as the world was abroad. Their surprise then was + prodigious when Mr. Beamish, accosting them full in assembly, inquired + whether they were satisfied with the report of their fortunes, and yet + more when he positively proved himself acquainted with the fortunes which + had been recounted to each of them in privacy. + </p> + <p> + ‘You, Colonel Poltermore, are to be in luck’s way up to the tenth + milestone,—where your chariot will overset and you will be lamed for + life.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not quite so bad,’ said the Colonel cheerfully, he having been informed + of much better. + </p> + <p> + ‘And you, Count Caseldy, are to have it all your own way with good luck, + after committing a deed of slaughter, with the solitary penalty of + undergoing a visit every night from the corpse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ghost,’ Caseldy smilingly corrected him. + </p> + <p> + ‘And Chloe would not have her fortune told, because she knew it!’ Mr. + Beamish cast a paternal glance at her. ‘And you, madam,’ he bent his brows + on the duchess, ‘received the communication that “All for Love” will sink + you as it raised you, put you down as it took you up, furnish the feast to + the raven gentleman which belongs of right to the golden eagle?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing of the sort! And I don’t believe in any of their stories,’ cried + the duchess, with a burning face. + </p> + <p> + ‘You deny it, madam?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I do. There was never a word of a raven or an eagle, that I’ll swear, + now.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You deny that there was ever a word of “All for Love”? Speak, madam.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Their conjuror’s rigmarole!’ she murmured, huffing. ‘As if I listened to + their nonsense!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Does the Duchess of Dewlap dare to give me the lie?’ said Mr. Beamish. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s not my title, and you know it,’ she retorted. + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s this?’ the angry beau sang out. ‘What stuff is this you wear?’ He + towered and laid hand on a border of lace of her morning dress, tore it + furiously and swung a length of it round him: and while the duchess panted + and trembled at an outrage that won for her the sympathy of every lady + present as well as the championship of the gentlemen, he tossed the lace + to the floor and trampled on it, making his big voice intelligible over + the uproar: ‘Hear what she does! ‘Tis a felony! She wears the stuff with + Betty Worcester’s yellow starch on it for mock antique! And let who else + wears it strip it off before the town shall say we are disgraced—when + I tell you that Betty Worcester was hanged at Tyburn yesterday morning for + murder!’ + </p> + <p> + There were shrieks. + </p> + <p> + Hardly had he finished speaking before the assembly began to melt; he + stood in the centre like a pole unwinding streamers, amid a confusion of + hurrying dresses, the sound and whirl and drift whereof was as that of the + autumnal strewn leaves on a wind rising in November. The troops of ladies + were off to bereave themselves of their fashionable imitation old lace + adornment, which denounced them in some sort abettors and associates of + the sanguinary loathed wretch, Mrs. Elizabeth Worcester, their + benefactress of the previous day, now hanged and dangling on the + gallows-tree. + </p> + <p> + Those ladies who wore not imitation lace or any lace in the morning, were + scarcely displeased with the beau for his exposure of them that did. The + gentlemen were confounded by his exhibition of audacious power. The two + gentlemen nighest upon violently resenting his brutality to Duchess Susan, + led her from the room in company with Chloe. + </p> + <p> + ‘The woman shall fear me to good purpose,’ Mr. Beamish said to himself. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Camwell was in the ante-room as Chloe passed out behind the two + incensed supporters of Duchess Susan. + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall be by the fir-trees on the Mount at eight this evening,’ she + said. + </p> + <p> + ‘I will be there,’ he replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘Drive Mr. Beamish into the country, that these gentlemen may have time to + cool.’ + </p> + <p> + He promised her it should be done. + </p> + <p> + Close on the hour of her appointment, he stood under the fir-trees, + admiring the sunset along the western line of hills, and when Chloe joined + him he spoke of the beauty of the scene. + </p> + <p> + ‘Though nothing seems more eloquently to say farewell,’ he added, with a + sinking voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘We could say it now, and be friends,’ she answered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Later than now, you think it unlikely that you could forgive me, Chloe.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘In truth, sir, you are making it hard for me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have stayed here to keep watch; for no pleasure of my own,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr. Beamish is an excellent protector of the duchess.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Excellent; and he is cleverly taught to suppose she fears him greatly; + and when she offends him, he makes a display of his Jupiter’s awfulness, + with the effect on woman of natural spirit which you have seen, and others + had foreseen, that she is exasperated and grows reckless. Tie another knot + in your string, Chloe.’ + </p> + <p> + She looked away, saying, ‘Were you not the cause? You were in collusion + with that charlatan of the heath, who told them their fortunes this + morning. I see far, both in the dark and in the light.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But not through a curtain. I was present.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hateful, hateful business of the spy! You have worked a great mischief + Mr. Camwell. And how can you reconcile it to, your conscience that you + should play so base a part?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have but performed my duty, dear madam.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You pretend that it is your devotion to me! I might be flattered if I saw + not so abject a figure in my service. Now have I but four days of my month + of happiness remaining, and my request to you is, leave me to enjoy them. + I beseech you to go. Very humbly, most earnestly, I beg your departure. + Grant it to me, and do not stay to poison my last days here. Leave us + to-morrow. I will admit your good intentions. I give you my hand in + gratitude. Adieu, Mr. Camwell.’ + </p> + <p> + He took her hand. ‘Adieu. I foresee an early separation, and this dear + hand is mine while I have it in mine. Adieu. It is a word to be repeated + at a parting like ours. We do not blow out our light with one breath: we + let it fade gradually, like yonder sunset.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Speak so,’ said she. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, Chloe, to give one’s life! And it is your happiness I have sought + more than your favor.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe it; but I have not liked the means. You leave us to-morrow?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It seems to me that to-morrow is the term.’ + </p> + <p> + Her face clouded. ‘That tells me a very uncertain promise.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You looked forth to a month of happiness—meaning a month of + delusion. The delusion expires to-night. You will awaken to see your end + of it in the morning. You have never looked beyond the month since the day + of his arrival.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let him not be named, I supplicate you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then you consent that another shall be sacrificed for you to enjoy your + state of deception an hour longer?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am not deceived, sir. I wish for peace, and crave it, and that is all I + would have.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And you make her your peace-offering, whom you have engaged to serve! Too + surely your eyes have been open as well as mine. Knot by knot—I have + watched you—where is it?—you have marked the points in that + silken string where the confirmation of a just suspicion was too strong + for you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I did it, and still I continued merry?’ She subsided from her + scornfulness on an involuntary ‘Ah!’ that was a shudder. + </p> + <p> + ‘You acted Light Heart, madam, and too well to hoodwink me. Meanwhile you + allowed that mischief to proceed, rather than have your crazy lullaby + disturbed.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed, Mr. Camwell, you presume.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The time, and my knowledge of what it is fraught with, demand it and + excuse it. You and I, my dear and one only love on earth, stand outside of + ordinary rules. We are between life and death.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We are so always.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Listen further to the preacher: We have them close on us, with the + question, Which it shall be to-morrow. You are for sleeping on, but I say + no; nor shall that iniquity of double treachery be committed because of + your desire to be rocked in a cradle. Hear me out. The drug you have + swallowed to cheat yourself will not bear the shock awaiting you tomorrow + with the first light. Hear these birds! When next they sing, you will be + broad awake, and of me, and the worship and service I would have dedicated + to you, I do not... it is a spectral sunset of a day that was never to be!—awake, + and looking on what? Back from a monstrous villainy to the forlorn wretch + who winked at it with knots in a string. Count them then, and where will + be your answer to heaven? I begged it of you, to save you from those blows + of remorse; yes, terrible!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, no!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Terrible, I say!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are mistaken, Mr. Camwell. It is my soother. I tell my beads on it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘See how a persistent residence in this place has made a Pagan of the + purest soul among us! Had you... but that day was not to lighten me! More + adorable in your errors that you are than others by their virtues, you + have sinned through excess of the qualities men prize. Oh, you have a + boundless generosity, unhappily enwound with a pride as great. There is + your fault, that is the cause of your misery. Too generous! too proud! You + have trusted, and you will not cease to trust; you have vowed yourself to + love, never to remonstrate, never to seem to doubt; it is too much your + religion, rare verily. But bethink you of that inexperienced and most + silly good creature who is on the rapids to her destruction. Is she not—you + will cry it aloud to-morrow—your victim? You hear it within you + now.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Friend, my dear, true friend,’ Chloe said in her deeper voice of melody, + ‘set your mind at ease about to-morrow and her. Her safety is assured. I + stake my life on it. She shall not be a victim. At the worst she will but + have learnt a lesson. So, then, adieu! The West hangs like a garland of + unwatered flowers, neglected by the mistress they adorned. Remember the + scene, and that here we parted, and that Chloe wished you the happiness it + was out of her power to bestow, because she was of another world, with her + history written out to the last red streak before ever you knew her. + Adieu; this time adieu for good! + </p> + <p> + Mr. Camwell stood in her path. ‘Blind eyes, if you like,’ he said, ‘but + you shall not hear blind language. I forfeit the poor consideration for me + that I have treasured; hate me; better hated by you than shun my duty! + Your duchess is away at the first dawn this next morning; it has come to + that. I speak with full knowledge. Question her.’ + </p> + <p> + Chloe threw a faltering scorn of him into her voice, as much as her + heart’s sharp throbs would allow. ‘I question you, sir, how you came to + this full knowledge you boast of?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have it; let that suffice. Nay, I will be particular; his coach is + ordered for the time I name to you; her maid is already at a station on + the road of the flight.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You have their servants in your pay?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For the mine—the countermine. We must grub dirt to match deceivers. + You, madam, have chosen to be delicate to excess, and have thrown it upon + me to be gross, and if you please, abominable, in my means of defending + you. It is not too late for you to save the lady, nor too late to bring + him to the sense of honour.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I cannot think Colonel Poltermore so dishonourable.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor Colonel Poltermore! The office he is made to fill is an old one. Are + you not ashamed, Chloe?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have listened too long,’ she replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then, if it is your pleasure, depart.’ + </p> + <p> + He made way for her. She passed him. Taking two hurried steps in the gloom + of the twilight, she stopped, held at her heart, and painfully turning to + him, threw her arms out, and let herself be seized and kissed. + </p> + <p> + On his asking pardon of her, which his long habit of respect forced him to + do in the thick of rapture and repetitions, she said, ‘You rob no one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh,’ he cried, ‘there is a reward, then, for faithful love. But am I the + man I was a minute back? I have you; I embrace you; and I doubt that I am + I. Or is it Chloe’s ghost?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She has died and visits you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And will again?’ + </p> + <p> + Chloe could not speak for languor. + </p> + <p> + The intensity of the happiness she gave by resting mutely where she was, + charmed her senses. But so long had the frost been on them that their + awakening to warmth was haunted by speculations on the sweet taste of this + reward of faithfulness to him, and the strange taste of her own + unfaithfulness to her. And reflecting on the cold act of speculation while + strong arm and glowing mouth were pressing her, she thought her senses + might really be dead, and she a ghost visiting the good youth for his + comfort. So feel ghosts, she thought, and what we call happiness in love + is a match between ecstasy and compliance. Another thought flew through + her like a mortal shot: ‘Not so with those two! with them it will be + ecstasy meeting ecstasy; they will take and give happiness in equal + portions.’ A pang of jealousy traversed her frame. She made the shrewdness + of it help to nerve her fervour in a last strain of him to her bosom, and + gently releasing herself, she said, ‘No one is robbed. And now, dear + friend, promise me that you will not disturb Mr. Beamish.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Chloe,’ said he, ‘have you bribed me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I do not wish him to be troubled.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The duchess, I have told you—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I know. But you have Chloe’s word that she will watch over the duchess + and die to save her. It is an oath. You have heard of some arrangements. I + say they shall lead to nothing: it shall not take place. Indeed, my + friend, I am awake; I see as much as you see. And those... after being + where I have been, can you suppose I have a regret? But she is my dear and + peculiar charge, and if she runs a risk, trust to me that there shall be + no catastrophe; I swear it; so, now, adieu. We sup in company to-night. + They will be expecting some of Chloe’s verses, and she must sing to + herself for a few minutes to stir the bed her songs take wing from; + therefore, we will part, and for her sake avoid her; do not be present at + our table, or in the room, or anywhere there. Yes, you rob no one,’ she + said, in a voice that curled through him deliciously by wavering; but I + think I may blush at recollections, and I would rather have you absent. + Adieu! I will not ask for obedience from you beyond to-night. Your word?’ + </p> + <p> + He gave it in a stupor of felicity, and she fled. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + Chloe drew the silken string from her bosom, as she descended the dim + pathway through the furies, and set her fingers travelling along it for + the number of the knots. ‘I have no right to be living,’ she said. Seven + was the number; seven years she had awaited her lover’s return; she + counted her age and completed it in sevens. Fatalism had sustained her + during her lover’s absence; it had fast hold of her now. Thereby had she + been enabled to say, ‘He will come’; and saying, ‘He has come,’ her touch + rested on the first knot in the string. She had no power to displace her + fingers, and the cause of the tying of the knot stood across her brain + marked in dull red characters, legible neither to her eye nor to her + understanding, but a reviving of the hour that brought it on her spirit + with human distinctness, except of the light of day: she had a sense of + having forfeited light, and seeing perhaps more clearly. Everything + assured her that she saw more clearly than others; she saw too when it was + good to cease to live. + </p> + <p> + Hers was the unhappy lot of one gifted with poet-imagination to throb with + the woman supplanting her and share the fascination of the man who + deceived. At their first meeting, in her presence, she had seen that they + were not strangers; she pitied them for speaking falsely, and when she + vowed to thwart this course of evil it to save a younger creature of her + sex, not in rivalry. She treated them both with a proud generosity + surpassing gentleness. All that there was of selfishness in her bosom + resolved to the enjoyment of her one month of strongly willed delusion. + </p> + <p> + The kiss she had sunk to robbed no one, not even her body’s purity, for + when this knot was tied she consigned herself to her end, and had become a + bag of dust. The other knots in the string pointed to verifications; this + first one was a suspicion, and it was the more precious, she felt it to be + more a certainty; it had come from the dark world beyond us, where all is + known. Her belief that it had come thence was nourished by testimony, the + space of blackness wherein she had lived since, exhausting her last + vitality in a simulation of infantile happiness, which was nothing other + than the carrying on of her emotion of the moment of sharp sour sweet—such + as it may be, the doomed below attain for their knowledge of joy—when, + at the first meeting with her lover, the perception of his treachery to + the soul confiding in him, told her she had lived, and opened out the + cherishable kingdom of insensibility to her for her heritage. + </p> + <p> + She made her tragic humility speak thankfully to the wound that slew her. + ‘Had it not been so, I should not have seen him,’ she said:—Her + lover would not have come to her but for his pursuit of another woman. + </p> + <p> + She pardoned him for being attracted by that beautiful transplant of the + fields: pardoned her likewise. ‘He when I saw him first was as beautiful + to me. For him I might have done as much.’ + </p> + <p> + Far away in a lighted hall of the West, her family raised hands of + reproach. They were minute objects, keenly discerned as diminished figures + cut in steel. Feeling could not be very warm for them, they were so small, + and a sea that had drowned her ran between; and looking that way she had + scarce any warmth of feeling save for a white rhaiadr leaping out of + broken cloud through branched rocks, where she had climbed and dreamed + when a child. The dream was then of the coloured days to come; now she was + more infant in her mind, and she watched the scattered water broaden, and + tasted the spray, sat there drinking the scene, untroubled by hopes as a + lamb, different only from an infant in knowing that she had thrown off + life to travel back to her home and be refreshed. She heard her people + talk; they were unending babblers in the waterfall. Truth was with them, + and wisdom. How, then, could she pretend to any right to live? Already she + had no name; she was less living than a tombstone. For who was Chloe? Her + family might pass the grave of Chloe without weeping, without moralizing. + They had foreseen her ruin, they had foretold it, they noised it in the + waters, and on they sped to the plains, telling the world of their + prophecy, and making what was untold as yet a lighter thing to do. + </p> + <p> + The lamps in an irregularly dotted line underneath the hill beckoned her + to her task of appearing as the gayest of them that draw their breath for + the day and have pulses for the morrow. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + At midnight the great supper party to celebrate the reconciliation of Mr. + Beamish and Duchess Susan broke up, and beneath a soft fair sky the + ladies, with their silvery chatter of gratitude for amusement, caught + Chloe in their arms to kiss her, rendering it natural for their cavaliers + to exclaim that Chloe was blest above mortals. The duchess preferred to + walk. Her spirits were excited, and her language smelt of her origin, but + the superb fleshly beauty of the woman was aglow, and crying, ‘I declare I + should burst in one of those boxes—just as if you’d stalled me!’ she + fanned a wind on her face, and sumptuously spread her spherical skirts, + attended by the vanquished and captive Colonel Poltermore, a gentleman + manifestly bent on insinuating sly slips of speech to serve for here a + pinch of powder, there a match. ‘Am I?’ she was heard to say. She blew + prodigious deep-chested sighs of a coquette that has taken to roaring. + </p> + <p> + Presently her voice tossed out: ‘As if I would!’ These vivid illuminations + of the Colonel’s proceedings were a pasture to the rearward groups, + composed of two very grand ladies, Caseldy, Mr. Beamish, a lord, and + Chloe. + </p> + <p> + ‘You man! Oh!’ sprang from the duchess. ‘What do I hear? I won’t listen; I + can’t, I mustn’t, I oughtn’t.’ + </p> + <p> + So she said, but her head careened, she gave him her coy reluctant ear, + with total abandonment to the seductions of his whispers, and the lord let + fly a peal of laughter. It had been a supper of copious wine, and the + songs which rise from wine. Nature was excused by our midnight + naturalists. + </p> + <p> + The two great dames, admonished by the violence of the nobleman’s + laughter, laid claim on Mr. Beamish to accompany them at their parting + with Chloe and Duchess Susan. + </p> + <p> + In the momentary shuffling of couples incident to adieux among a company, + the duchess murmured to Caseldy: + </p> + <p> + ‘Have I done it well.’ + </p> + <p> + He praised her for perfection in her acting. ‘I am at your door at three, + remember.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My heart’s in my mouth,’ said she. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Poltermore still had the privilege of conducting her the few + farther steps to her lodgings. + </p> + <p> + Caseldy walked beside Chloe, and silently, until he said, ‘If I have not + yet mentioned the subject—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If it is an allusion to money let me not hear it to-night,’ she replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘I can only say that my lawyers have instructions. But my lawyers cannot + pay you in gratitude. Do not think me in your hardest review of my + misconduct ungrateful. I have ever esteemed you above all women; I do, and + I shall; you are too much above me. I am afraid I am a composition of bad + stuff; I did not win a very particularly good name on the Continent; I + begin to know myself, and in comparison with you, dear Catherine——’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You speak to Chloe,’ she said. ‘Catherine is a buried person. She died + without pain. She is by this time dust.’ + </p> + <p> + The man heaved his breast. ‘Women have not an idea of our temptations.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are excused by me for all your errors, Caseldy. Always remember + that.’ + </p> + <p> + He sighed profoundly. ‘Ay, you have a Christian’s heart.’ + </p> + <p> + She answered, ‘I have come to the conclusion that it is a Pagan’s.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘As for me,’ he rejoined, ‘I am a fatalist. Through life I have seen my + destiny. What is to be, will be; we can do nothing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have heard of one who expired of a surfeit that he anticipated, nay + proclaimed, when indulging in the last desired morsel,’ said Chloe. + </p> + <p> + ‘He was driven to it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘From within.’ + </p> + <p> + Caseldy acquiesced; his wits were clouded, and an illustration even + coarser and more grotesque would have won a serious nod and a sigh from + him. ‘Yes, we are moved by other hands!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is pleasant to think so: and think it of me tomorrow. Will you!’ said + Chloe. + </p> + <p> + He promised it heartily, to induce her to think the same of him. + </p> + <p> + Their separation was in no way remarkable. The pretty formalities were + executed at the door, and the pair of gentlemen departed. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s quite dark still,’ Duchess Susan said, looking up at the sky, and + she ran upstairs, and sank, complaining of the weakness of her legs, in a + chair of the ante-chamber of her bedroom, where Chloe slept. Then she + asked the time of the night. She could not suppress her hushed ‘Oh!’ of + heavy throbbing from minute to minute. Suddenly she started off at a quick + stride to her own room, saying that it must be sleepiness which affected + her so. + </p> + <p> + Her bedroom had a door to the sitting-room, and thence, as also from + Chloe’s room, the landing on the stairs was reached, for the room ran + parallel with both bed-chambers. She walked in it and threw the window + open, but closed it immediately; opened and shut the door, and returned + and called for Chloe. She wanted to be read to. Chloe named certain + composing books. The duchess chose a book of sermons. ‘But we’re all such + dreadful sinners, it’s better not to bother ourselves late at night.’ She + dismissed that suggestion. Chloe proposed books of poetry. ‘Only I don’t + understand them except about larks, and buttercups, and hayfields, and + that’s no comfort to a woman burning,’ was the answer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you feverish, madam?’ said Chloe. And the duchess was sharp on her: + ‘Yes, madam, I am.’ + </p> + <p> + She reproved herself in a change of tone: ‘No, Chloe, not feverish, only + this air of yours here is such an exciting air, as the doctor says; and + they made me drink wine, and I played before supper—Oh! my money; I + used to say I could get more, but now!’ she sighed—‘but there’s + better in the world than money. You know that, don’t you, you dear? Tell + me. And I want you to be happy; that you’ll find. I do wish we could all + be!’ She wept, and spoke of requiring a little music to compose her. + </p> + <p> + Chloe stretched a hand for her guitar. Duchess Susan listened to some + notes, and cried that it went to her heart and hurt her. ‘Everything we + like a lot has a fence and a board against trespassers, because of such a + lot of people in the world,’ she moaned. ‘Don’t play, put down that thing, + please, dear. You’re the cleverest creature anybody has ever met; they all + say so. I wish I——Lovely women catch men, and clever women + keep them: I’ve heard that said in this wretched place, and it ‘s a nice + prospect for me, next door to a fool! I know I am.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The duke adores you, madam.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor duke! Do let him be—sleeping so woebegone with his mouth so, + and that chin of a baby, like as if he dreamed of a penny whistle. He + shouldn’t have let me come here. Talk of Mr. Beamish. How he will miss + you, Chloe!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He will,’ Chloe said sadly. + </p> + <p> + ‘If you go, dear.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am going.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why should you leave him, Chloe?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I must.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And there, the thought of it makes you miserable!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It does.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You needn’t, I’m sure.’ + </p> + <p> + Chloe looked at her. + </p> + <p> + The duchess turned her head. ‘Why can’t you be gay, as you were at the + supper-table, Chloe? You’re out to him like a flower when the sun jumps + over the hill; you’re up like a lark in the dews; as I used to be when I + thought of nothing. Oh, the early morning; and I’m sleepy. What a beast I + feel, with my grandeur, and the time in an hour or two for the birds to + sing, and me ready to drop. I must go and undress.’ + </p> + <p> + She rushed on Chloe, kissed her hastily, declaring that she was quite dead + of fatigue, and dismissed her. ‘I don’t want help, I can undress myself. + As if Susan Barley couldn’t do that for herself! and you may shut your + door, I sha’n’t have any frights to-night, I’m so tired out.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Another kiss,’ Chloe said tenderly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, take it’—the duchess leaned her cheek—‘but I’m so tired + I don’t know what I’m doing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It will not be on your conscience,’ Chloe answered, kissing her warmly. + </p> + <p> + Will those words she withdrew, and the duchess closed the door. She ran a + bolt in it immediately. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m too tired to know anything I’m doing,’ she said to herself, and stood + with shut eyes to hug certain thoughts which set her bosom heaving. + </p> + <p> + There was the bed, there was the clock. She had the option of lying down + and floating quietly into the day, all peril past. It seemed sweet for a + minute. But it soon seemed an old, a worn, an end-of-autumn life, chill, + without aim, like a something that was hungry and toothless. The bed + proposing innocent sleep repelled her and drove her to the clock. The + clock was awful: the hand at the hour, the finger following the minute, + commanded her to stir actively, and drove her to gentle meditations on the + bed. She lay down dressed, after setting her light beside the clock, that + she might see it at will, and considering it necessary for the bed to + appear to have been lain on. Considering also that she ought to be heard + moving about in the process of undressing, she rose from the bed to make + sure of her reading of the guilty clock. An hour and twenty minutes! she + had no more time than that: and it was not enough for her various + preparations, though it was true that her maid had packed and taken a box + of the things chiefly needful; but the duchess had to change her shoes and + her dress, and run at bo-peep with the changes of her mind, a sedative + preface to any fatal step among women of her complexion, for so they + invite indecision to exhaust their scruples, and they let the blood have + its way. Having so short a space of time, she thought the matter decided, + and with some relief she flung despairing on the bed, and lay down for + good with her duke. In a little while her head was at work reviewing him + sternly, estimating him not less accurately than the male moralist + charitable to her sex would do. She quitted the bed, with a spring to + escape her imagined lord; and as if she had felt him to be there, she lay + down no more. A quiet life like that was flatter to her idea than a + handsomely bound big book without any print on the pages, and without a + picture. Her contemplation of it, contrasted with the life waved to her + view by the timepiece, set her whole system rageing; she burned to fly. + Providently, nevertheless, she thumped a pillow, and threw the bedclothes + into proper disorder, to inform the world that her limbs had warmed them, + and that all had been impulse with her. She then proceeded to disrobe, + murmuring to herself that she could stop now, and could stop now, at each + stage of the advance to a fresh dressing of her person, and moralizing on + her singular fate, in the mouth of an observer. ‘She was shot up suddenly + over everybody’s head, and suddenly down she went.’ Susan whispered to + herself: ‘But it was for love!’ Possessed by the rosiness of love, she + finished her business, with an attention to everything needed that was + equal to perfect serenity of mind. After which there was nothing to do, + save to sit humped in a chair, cover her face and count the + clock-tickings, that said, Yes—no; do—don’t; fly—stay; + fly—fly! It seemed to her she heard a moving. Well she might with + that dreadful heart of hers! + </p> + <p> + Chloe was asleep, at peace by this time, she thought; and how she envied + Chloe! She might be as happy, if she pleased. Why not? But what kind of + happiness was it? She likened it to that of the corpse underground, and + shrank distastefully. + </p> + <p> + Susan stood at her glass to have a look at the creature about whom there + was all this disturbance, and she threw up her arms high for a languid, + not unlovely yawn, that closed in blissful shuddering with the sensation + of her lover’s arms having wormed round her waist and taken her while she + was defenceless. For surely they would. She took a jewelled ring, his + gift, from her purse, and kissed it, and drew it on and off her finger, + leaving it on. Now she might wear it without fear of inquiries and + virtuous eyebrows. O heavenly now—if only it were an hour hence; and + going behind galloping horses! + </p> + <p> + The clock was at the terrible moment. She hesitated internally and + hastened; once her feet stuck fast, and firmly she said, ‘No’; but the + clock was her lord. The clock was her lover and her lord; and obeying it, + she managed to get into the sitting-room, on the pretext that she merely + wished to see through the front window whether daylight was coming. + </p> + <p> + How well she knew that half-light of the ebb of the wave of darkness. + </p> + <p> + Strange enough it was to see it showing houses regaining their solidity of + the foregone day, instead of still fields, black hedges, familiar shapes + of trees. The houses had no wakefulness, they were but seen to stand, and + the light was a revelation of emptiness. Susan’s heart was cunning to + reproach her duke for the difference of the scene she beheld from that of + the innocent open-breasted land. Yes, it was dawn in a wicked place that + she never should have been allowed to visit. But where was he whom she + looked for? There! The cloaked figure of a man was at the corner of the + street. It was he. Her heart froze; but her limbs were strung to throw off + the house, and reach air, breathe, and (as her thoughts ran) swoon, + well-protected. To her senses the house was a house on fire, and crying to + her to escape. + </p> + <p> + Yet she stepped deliberately, to be sure-footed in a dusky room; she + touched along the wall and came to the door, where a foot-stool nearly + tripped her. Here her touch was at fault, for though she knew she must be + close by the door, she was met by an obstruction unlike wood, and the door + seemed neither shut nor open. She could not find the handle; something + hung over it. Thinking coolly, she fancied the thing must be a gown or + dressing-gown; it hung heavily. Her fingers were sensible of the touch of + silk; she distinguished a depending bulk, and she felt at it very + carefully and mechanically, saying within herself, in her anxiety to pass + it without noise, ‘If I should awake poor Chloe, of all people!’ Her alarm + was that the door might creak. Before any other alarm had struck her + brain, the hand she felt with was in a palsy, her mouth gaped, her throat + thickened, the dust-ball rose in her throat, and the effort to swallow it + down and get breath kept her from acute speculation while she felt again, + pinched, plucked at the thing, ready to laugh, ready to shriek. Above her + head, all on one side, the thing had a round white top. Could it be a hand + that her touch had slid across? An arm too! this was an arm! She clutched + it, imagining that it clung to her. She pulled it to release herself from + it, desperately she pulled, and a lump descended, and a flash of all the + torn nerves of her body told her that a dead human body was upon her. + </p> + <p> + At a quarter to four o’clock of a midsummer morning, as Mr. Beamish + relates of his last share in the Tale of Chloe, a woman’s voice, in + piercing notes of anguish, rang out three shrieks consecutively, which + were heard by him at the instant of his quitting his front doorstep, in + obedience to the summons of young Mr. Camwell, delivered ten minutes + previously, with great urgency, by that gentleman’s lacquey. On his + reaching the street of the house inhabited by Duchess Susan, he perceived + many night-capped heads at windows, and one window of the house in + question lifted but vacant. His first impression accused the pair of + gentlemen, whom he saw bearing drawn swords in no friendly attitude of an + ugly brawl that had probably affrighted her Grace, or her personal + attendant, a woman capable of screaming, for he was well assured that it + could not have been Chloe, the least likely of her sex to abandon herself + to the use of their weapons either in terror or in jeopardy. The + antagonists were Mr. Camwell and Count Caseldy. On his approaching them, + Mr. Camwell sheathed his sword, saying that his work was done. Caseldy was + convulsed with wrath, to such a degree as to make the part of an + intermediary perilous. There had been passes between them, and Caseldy + cried aloud that he would have his enemy’s blood. The night-watch was + nowhere. Soon, however, certain shopmen and their apprentices assisted Mr. + Beamish to preserve the peace, despite the fury of Caseldy and the + provocations—‘not easy to withstand,’ says the chronicler—offered + by him to young Camwell. The latter said to Mr. Beamish: ‘I knew I should + be no match, so I sent for you,’ causing his friend astonishment, inasmuch + as he was assured of the youth’s natural valour. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish was about to deliver an allocution of reproof to them in equal + shares, being entirely unsuspicious of any other reason for the alarum + than this palpable outbreak of a rivalry that he would have inclined to + attribute to the charms of Chloe, when the house-door swung wide for them + to enter, and the landlady of the house, holding clasped hands at full + stretch, implored them to run up to the poor lady: ‘Oh, she’s dead; she’s + dead, dead!’ + </p> + <p> + Caseldy rushed past her. + </p> + <p> + ‘How, dead! good woman?’ Mr. Beamish questioned her most incredulously, + half-smiling. + </p> + <p> + She answered among her moans: ‘Dead by the neck; off the door—Oh!’ + </p> + <p> + Young Camwell pressed his forehead, with a call on his Maker’s name. As + they reached the landing upstairs, Caseldy came out of the sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + ‘Which?’ said Camwell to the speaking of his face. + </p> + <p> + ‘She!’ said the other. + </p> + <p> + ‘The duchess?’ Mr. Beamish exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + But Camwell walked into the room. He had nothing to ask after that reply. + </p> + <p> + The figure stretched along the floor was covered with a sheet. The young + man fell at his length beside it, and his face was downward. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish relates: ‘To this day, when I write at an interval of fifteen + years, I have the tragic ague of that hour in my blood, and I behold the + shrouded form of the most admirable of women, whose heart was broken by a + faithless man ere she devoted her wreck of life to arrest one weaker than + herself on the descent to perdition. Therein it was beneficently granted + her to be of the service she prayed to be through her death. She died to + save. In a last letter, found upon her pincushion, addressed to me under + seal of secrecy toward the parties principally concerned, she anticipates + the whole confession of the unhappy duchess. Nay, she prophesies: “The + duchess will tell you truly she has had enough of love!” Those actual + words were reiterated to me by the poor lady daily until her lord arrived + to head the funeral procession, and assist in nursing back the shattered + health of his wife to a state that should fit her for travelling. To me, + at least, she was constant in repeating, “No more of love!” By her + behaviour to her duke, I can judge her to have been sincere. She spoke of + feeling Chloe’s eyes go through her with every word of hers that she + recollected. Nor was the end of Chloe less effective upon the traitor. He + was in the procession to her grave. He spoke to none. There is a line of + the verse bearing the superscription, “My Reasons for Dying,” that shows + her to have been apprehensive to secure the safety of Mr. Camwell: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I die because my heart is dead + To warn a soul from sin I die: + I die that blood may not be shed, etc. +</pre> + <p> + She feared he would be somewhere on the road to mar the fugitives, and she + knew him, as indeed he knew himself, no match for one trained in the + foreign tricks of steel, ready though he was to dispute the traitor’s way. + She remembers Mr. Camwell’s petition for the knotted silken string in her + request that it shall be cut from her throat and given to him.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beamish indulges in verses above the grave of Chloe. They are of a + character to cool emotion. But when we find a man, who is commonly of the + quickest susceptibility to ridicule as well as to what is befitting, + careless of exposure, we may reflect on the truthfulness of feeling by + which he is drawn to pass his own guard and come forth in his nakedness; + something of the poet’s tongue may breathe to us through his mortal + stammering, even if we have to acknowledge that a quotation would scatter + pathos. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + All flattery is at somebody’s expense + Be philosophical, but accept your personal dues + But I leave it to you + Distrust us, and it is a declaration of war + Happiness in love is a match between ecstasy and compliance + If I do not speak of payment + Intellectual contempt of easy dupes + Invite indecision to exhaust their scruples + Is not one month of brightness as much as we can ask for? + No flattery for me at the expense of my sisters + Nothing desirable will you have which is not coveted + Primitive appetite for noise + She might turn out good, if well guarded for a time + The alternative is, a garter and the bedpost + They miss their pleasure in pursuing it + This mania of young people for pleasure, eternal pleasure + Wits, which are ordinarily less productive than land +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE HOUSE ON THE BEACH + </h2> + <h3> + By George Meredith A REALISTIC TALE + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + The experience of great officials who have laid down their dignities + before death, or have had the philosophic mind to review themselves while + still wielding the deputy sceptre, teaches them that in the exercise of + authority over men an eccentric behaviour in trifles has most exposed them + to hostile criticism and gone farthest to jeopardize their popularity. It + is their Achilles’ heel; the place where their mother Nature holds them as + she dips them in our waters. The eccentricity of common persons is the + entertainment of the multitude, and the maternal hand is perceived for a + cherishing and endearing sign upon them; but rarely can this be found + suitable for the august in station; only, indeed, when their sceptre is no + more fearful than a grandmother’s birch; and these must learn from it + sooner or later that they are uncomfortably mortal. + </p> + <p> + When herrings are at auction on a beach, for example, the man of chief + distinction in the town should not step in among a poor fraternity to take + advantage of an occasion of cheapness, though it be done, as he may + protest, to relieve the fishermen of a burden; nor should such a dignitary + as the bailiff of a Cinque Port carry home the spoil of victorious + bargaining on his arm in a basket. It is not that his conduct is in itself + objectionable, so much as that it causes him to be popularly weighed; and + during life, until the best of all advocates can plead before our fellow + Englishmen that we are out of their way, it is prudent to avoid the + process. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tinman, however, this high-stepping person in question, happened to + have come of a marketing mother. She had started him from a small shop to + a big one. He, by the practice of her virtues, had been enabled to start + himself as a gentleman. He was a man of this ambition, and prouder behind + it. But having started himself precipitately, he took rank among + independent incomes, as they are called, only to take fright at the perils + of starvation besetting one who has been tempted to abandon the source of + fifty per cent. So, if noble imagery were allowable in our time in prose, + might alarms and partial regrets be assumed to animate the splendid + pumpkin cut loose from the suckers. Deprived of that prodigious + nourishment of the shop in the fashionable seaport of Helmstone, he + retired upon his native town, the Cinque Port of Crikswich, where he + rented the cheapest residence he could discover for his habitation, the + House on the Beach, and lived imposingly, though not in total disaccord + with his old mother’s principles. His income, as he observed to his + widowed sister and solitary companion almost daily in their privacy, was + respectable. The descent from an altitude of fifty to five per cent. + cannot but be felt. Nevertheless it was a comforting midnight bolster + reflection for a man, turning over to the other side between a dream and a + wink, that he was making no bad debts, and one must pay to be addressed as + esquire. Once an esquire, you are off the ground in England and on the + ladder. An esquire can offer his hand in marriage to a lady in her own + right; plain esquires have married duchesses; they marry baronets’ + daughters every day of the week. + </p> + <p> + Thoughts of this kind were as the rise and fall of waves in the bosom of + the new esquire. How often in his Helmstone shop had he not heard titled + ladies disdaining to talk a whit more prettily than ordinary women; and he + had been a match for the subtlety of their pride—he understood it. + He knew well that at the hint of a proposal from him they would have + spoken out in a manner very different to that of ordinary women. The + lightning, only to be warded by an esquire, was in them. He quitted + business at the age of forty, that he might pretend to espousals with a + born lady; or at least it was one of the ideas in his mind. + </p> + <p> + And here, I think, is the moment for the epitaph of anticipation over him, + and the exclamation, alas! I would not be premature, but it is necessary + to create some interest in him, and no one but a foreigner could feel it + at present for the Englishman who is bursting merely to do like the rest + of his countrymen, and rise above them to shake them class by class as the + dust from his heels. Alas! then an—undertaker’s pathos is better + than none at all—he was not a single-minded aspirant to our social + honours. The old marketing mother; to whom he owed his fortunes, was in + his blood to confound his ambition; and so contradictory was the man’s + nature, that in revenge for disappointments, there were times when he + turned against the saving spirit of parsimony. Readers deep in Greek + dramatic writings will see the fatal Sisters behind the chair of a man who + gives frequent and bigger dinners, that he may become important in his + neighbourhood, while decreasing the price he pays for his wine, that he + may miserably indemnify himself for the outlay. A sip of his wine fetched + the breath, as when men are in the presence of the tremendous elements of + nature. It sounded the constitution more darkly-awful, and with a + profounder testimony to stubborn health, than the physician’s instruments. + Most of the guests at Mr. Tinman’s table were so constructed that they + admired him for its powerful quality the more at his announcement of the + price of it; the combined strength and cheapness probably flattering them, + as by another mystic instance of the national energy. It must have been + so, since his townsmen rejoiced to hail him as head of their town. Here + and there a solitary esquire, fished out of the bathing season to dine at + the house on the beach, was guilty of raising one of those clamours + concerning subsequent headaches, which spread an evil reputation as a + pall. A resident esquire or two, in whom a reminiscence of Tinman’s table + may be likened to the hook which some old trout has borne away from the + angler as the most vivid of warnings to him to beware for the future, + caught up the black report and propagated it. + </p> + <p> + The Lieutenant of the Coastguard, hearing the latest conscious victim, or + hearing of him, would nod his head and say he had never dined at Tinman’s + table without a headache ensuing and a visit to the chemist’s shop; which, + he was assured, was good for trade, and he acquiesced, as it was right to + do in a man devoted to his country. He dined with Tinman again. We try our + best to be social. For eight months in our year he had little choice but + to dine with Tinman or be a hermit attached to a telescope. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Lieutenant?” His frank reply to the question was, “I + am going to be killed;” and it grew notorious that this meant Tinman’s + table. We get on together as well as we can. Perhaps if we were an acutely + calculating people we should find it preferable both for trade and our + physical prosperity to turn and kill Tinman, in contempt of consequences. + But we are not, and so he does the business gradually for us. A generous + people we must be, for Tinman was not detested. The recollection of “next + morning” caused him to be dimly feared. + </p> + <p> + Tinman, meanwhile, was awake only to the Circumstance that he made no + progress as an esquire, except on the envelopes of letters, and in his own + esteem. That broad region he began to occupy to the exclusion of other + inhabitants; and the result of such a state of princely isolation was a + plunge of his whole being into deep thoughts. From the hour of his + investiture as the town’s chief man, thoughts which were long shots took + possession of him. He had his wits about him; he was alive to ridicule; he + knew he was not popular below, or on easy terms with people above him, and + he meditated a surpassing stroke as one of the Band of Esq., that had + nothing original about it to perplex and annoy the native mind, yet was + dazzling. Few members of the privileged Band dare even imagine the thing. + </p> + <p> + It will hardly be believed, but it is historical fact, that in the act of + carrying fresh herrings home on his arm, he entertained the idea of a + visit to the First Person and Head of the realm, and was indulging in + pleasing visions of the charms of a personal acquaintance. Nay, he had + already consulted with brother jurats. For you must know that one of the + princesses had recently suffered betrothal in the newspapers, and + supposing her to deign to ratify the engagement, what so reasonable on the + part of a Cinque Port chieftain as to congratulate his liege mistress, her + illustrious mother? These are thoughts and these are deeds >which give + emotional warmth and colour to the ejecter members of a population + wretchedly befogged. They are our sunlight, and our brighter theme of + conversation. They are necessary to the climate and the Saxon mind; and it + would be foolish to put them away, as it is foolish not to do our utmost + to be intimate with terrestrial splendours while we have them—as it + may be said of wardens, mayors, and bailiffs-at command. Tinman was quite + of this opinion. They are there to relieve our dulness. We have them in + the place of heavenly; and he would have argued that we have a right to + bother them too. He had a notion, up in the clouds, of a Sailors’ + Convalescent Hospital at Crikswich to seduce a prince with, hand him the + trowel, make him “lay the stone,” and then poor prince! refresh him at + table. But that was a matter for by and by. + </p> + <p> + His purchase of herrings completed, Mr. Tinman walked across the mound of + shingle to the house on the beach. He was rather a fresh-faced man, of the + Saxon colouring, and at a distance looking good-humoured. That he should + have been able to make such an appearance while doing daily battle with + his wine, was a proof of great physical vigour. His pace was leisurely, as + it must needs be over pebbles, where half a step is subtracted from each + whole one in passing; and, besides, he was aware of a general breath at + his departure that betokened a censorious assembly. Why should he not + market for himself? He threw dignity into his retreating figure in + response to the internal interrogation. The moment >was one when conscious + rectitude =pliers man should have a tail for its just display. + Philosophers have drawn attention to the power of the human face to + express pure virtue, but no sooner has it passed on than the spirit erect + within would seem helpless. The breadth of our shoulders is apparently + presented for our critics to write on. Poor duty is done by the simple + sense of moral worth, to supplant that absence of feature in the plain + flat back. We are below the animals in this. How charged with language + behind him is a dog! Everybody has noticed it. Let a dog turn away from a + hostile circle, and his crisp and wary tail not merely defends him, it + menaces; it is a weapon. Man has no choice but to surge and boil, or + stiffen preposterously. Knowing the popular sentiment about his marketing—for + men can see behind their backs, though they may have nothing to speak with—Tinman + resembled those persons of principle who decline to pay for a “Bless your + honour!” from a voluble beggar-woman, and obtain the reverse of it after + they have gone by. He was sufficiently sensitive to feel that his back was + chalked as on a slate. The only remark following him was, “There he goes!” + </p> + <p> + He went to the seaward gate of the house on the beach, made practicable in + a low flint wall, where he was met by his sister Martha, to whom he handed + the basket. Apparently he named the cost of his purchase per dozen. She + touched the fish and pressed the bellies of the topmost, it might be to + question them tenderly concerning their roes. Then the couple passed out + of sight. Herrings were soon after this despatching their odours through + the chimneys of all Crikswich, and there was that much of concord and + festive union among the inhabitants. + </p> + <p> + The house on the beach had been posted where it stood, one supposes, for + the sake of the sea-view, from which it turned right about to face the + town across a patch of grass and salt scurf, looking like a square and + scornful corporal engaged in the perpetual review of an awkward squad of + recruits. Sea delighted it not, nor land either. Marine Parade fronting it + to the left, shaded sickly eyes, under a worn green verandah, from a sun + that rarely appeared, as the traducers of spinsters pretend those virgins + are ever keenly on their guard against him that cometh not. Belle Vue + Terrace stared out of lank glass panes without reserve, unashamed of its + yellow complexion. A gaping public-house, calling itself newly Hotel, fell + backward a step. Villas with the titles of royalty and bloody battles + claimed five feet of garden, and swelled in bowwindows beside other villas + which drew up firmly, commending to the attention a decent straightness + and unintrusive decorum in preference. On an elevated meadow to the right + was the Crouch. The Hall of Elba nestled among weather-beaten dwarf woods + further toward the cliff. Shavenness, featurelessness, emptiness, + clamminess scurfiness, formed the outward expression of a town to which + people were reasonably glad to come from London in summer-time, for there + was nothing in Crikswich to distract the naked pursuit of health. The sea + tossed its renovating brine to the determinedly sniffing animal, who went + to his meals with an appetite that rendered him cordially eulogistic of + the place, in spite of certain frank whiffs of sewerage coming off an open + deposit on the common to mingle with the brine. Tradition told of a French + lady and gentleman entering the town to take lodgings for a month, and + that on the morrow they took a boat from the shore, saying in their faint + English to a sailor veteran of the coastguard, whom they had consulted + about the weather, “It is better zis zan zat,” as they shrugged between + rough sea and corpselike land. And they were not seen again. Their meaning + none knew. Having paid their bill at the lodging-house, their conduct was + ascribed to systematic madness. English people came to Crikswich for the + pure salt sea air, and they did not expect it to be cooked and dressed and + decorated for them. If these things are done to nature, it is nature no + longer that you have, but something Frenchified. Those French are for + trimming Neptune’s beard! Only wait, and you are sure to find variety in + nature, more than you may like. You will find it in Neptune. What say you + to a breach of the sea-wall, and an inundation of the aromatic grass-flat + extending from the house on the beach to the tottering terraces, villas, + cottages: and public-house transformed by its ensign to Hotel, along the + frontage of the town? Such an event had occurred of old, and had given the + house on the beach the serious shaking great Neptune in his wrath alone + can give. But many years had intervened. Groynes had been run down to + intercept him and divert him. He generally did his winter mischief on a + mill and salt marshes lower westward. Mr. Tinman had always been extremely + zealous in promoting the expenditure of what moneys the town had to spare + upon the protection of the shore, as it were for the propitiation or + defiance of the sea-god. There was a kindly joke against him an that + subject among brother jurats. He retorted with the joke, that the first + thing for Englishmen to look to were England’s defences. + </p> + <p> + But it will not do to be dwelling too fondly on our eras of peace, for + which we make such splendid sacrifices. Peace, saving for the advent of a + German band, which troubled the repose of the town at intervals, had + imparted to the inhabitants of Crikswich, within and without, the likeness + to its most perfect image, together, it must be confessed, with a degree + of nervousness that invested common events with some of the terrors of the + Last Trump, when one night, just upon the passing of the vernal equinox, + something happened. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + A carriage Stopped short in the ray of candlelight that was fitfully and + feebly capering on the windy blackness outside the open workshop of + Crickledon, the carpenter, fronting the sea-beach. Mr. Tinnnan’s house was + inquired for. Crickledon left off planing; at half-sprawl over the board, + he bawled out, “Turn to the right; right ahead; can’t mistake it.” He + nodded to one of the cronies intent on watching his labours: “Not unless + they mean to be bait for whiting-pout. Who’s that for Tinman, I wonder?” + The speculations of Crickledon’s friends were lost in the scream of the + plane. + </p> + <p> + One cast an eye through the door and observed that the carriage was there + still. “Gentleman’s got out and walked,” said Crickledon. He was informed + that somebody was visible inside. “Gentleman’s wife, mayhap,” he said. His + friends indulged in their privilege of thinking what they liked, and there + was the usual silence of tongues in the shop. He furnished them sound and + motion for their amusement, and now and then a scrap of conversation; and + the sedater spirits dwelling in his immediate neighbourhood were + accustomed to step in and see him work up to supper-time, instead of + resorting to the more turbid and costly excitement of the public-house. + </p> + <p> + Crickledon looked up from the measurement of a thumb-line. In the doorway + stood a bearded gentleman, who announced himself with the startling + exclamation, “Here’s a pretty pickle!” and bustled to make way for a man + well known to them as Ned Crummins, the upholsterer’s man, on whose back + hung an article of furniture, the condition of which, with a condensed + brevity of humour worthy of literary admiration, he displayed by mutely + turning himself about as he entered. + </p> + <p> + “Smashed!” was the general outcry. + </p> + <p> + “I ran slap into him,” said the gentleman. “Who the deuce!—no bones + broken, that’s one thing. The fellow—there, look at him: he’s like a + glass tortoise.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a chiwal glass,” Crickledon remarked, and laid finger on the star in + the centre. + </p> + <p> + “Gentleman ran slap into me,” said Crummins, depositing the frame on the + floor of the shop. + </p> + <p> + “Never had such a shock in my life,” continued the gentleman. “Upon my + soul, I took him for a door: I did indeed. A kind of light flashed from + one of your houses here, and in the pitch dark I thought I was at the door + of old Mart Tinman’s house, and dash me if I did n’t go in—crash! + But what the deuce do you do, carrying that great big looking-glass at + night, man? And, look here tell me; how was it you happened to be going + glass foremost when you’d got the glass on your back?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, ‘t ain’t my fault, I knows that,” rejoined Crummins. “I came along + as careful as a man could. I was just going to bawl out to Master Tinman, + ‘I knows the way, never fear me’; for I thinks I hears him call from his + house, ‘Do ye see the way?’ and into me this gentleman runs all his might, + and smash goes the glass. I was just ten steps from Master Tinman’s gate, + and that careful, I reckoned every foot I put down, that I was; I knows I + did, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it was me calling, ‘I’m sure I can’t see the way.’ + </p> + <p> + “You heard me, you donkey!” retorted the bearded gentleman. “What was the + good of your turning that glass against me in the very nick when I dashed + on you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, ‘t ain’t my fault, I swear,” said Crummins. “The wind catches + voices so on a pitch dark night, you never can tell whether they be on one + shoulder or the other. And if I’m to go and lose my place through no fault + of mine——” + </p> + <p> + “Have n’t I told you, sir, I’m going to pay the damage? Here,” said the + gentleman, fumbling at his waistcoat, “here, take this card. Read it.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time during the scene in the carpenter’s shop, a certain + pomposity swelled the gentleman’s tone. His delivery of the card appeared + to act on him like the flourish of a trumpet before great men. + </p> + <p> + “Van Diemen Smith,” he proclaimed himself for the assistance of Ned + Crummins in his task; the latter’s look of sad concern on receiving the + card seeming to declare an unscholarly conscience. + </p> + <p> + An anxious feminine voice was heard close beside Mr. Van Diemen Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, papa, has there been an accident? Are you hurt?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit, Netty; not a bit. Walked into a big looking-glass in the dark, + that’s all. A matter of eight or ten pound, and that won’t stump us. But + these are what I call queer doings in Old England, when you can’t take a + step in the dark, on the seashore without plunging bang into a glass. And + it looks like bad luck to my visit to old Mart Tinman.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you,” he addressed the company, “tell me of a clean, wholesome + lodging-house? I was thinking of flinging myself, body and baggage, on + your mayor, or whatever he is—my old schoolmate; but I don’t so much + like this beginning. A couple of bed-rooms and sitting-room; clean sheets, + well aired; good food, well cooked; payment per week in advance.” + </p> + <p> + The pebble dropped into deep water speaks of its depth by the tardy + arrival of bubbles on the surface, and, in like manner, the very simple + question put by Mr. Van Diemen Smith pursued its course of penetration in + the assembled mind in the carpenter’s shop for a considerable period, with + no sign to show that it had reached the bottom. + </p> + <p> + “Surely, papa, we can go to an inn? There must be some hotel,” said his + daughter. + </p> + <p> + “There’s good accommodation at the Cliff Hotel hard by,” said Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said one of his friends, “if you don’t want to go so far, sir, + there’s Master Crickledon’s own house next door, and his wife lets + lodgings, and there’s not a better cook along this coast.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why did n’t the man mention it? Is he afraid of having me?” asked + Mr. Smith, a little thunderingly. “I may n’t be known much yet in England; + but I’ll tell you, you inquire the route to Mr. Van Diemen Smith over + there in Australia.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, papa,” interrupted his daughter, “only you must consider that it may + not be convenient to take us in at this hour—so late.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not that, miss, begging your pardon,” said Crickledon. “I make a + point of never recommending my own house. That’s where it is. Otherwise + you’re welcome to try us.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of falling bounce on my old schoolmate, and putting Old + English hospitality to the proof,” Mr. Smith meditated. “But it’s late. + Yes, and that confounded glass! No, we’ll bide with you, Mr. Carpenter. + I’ll send my card across to Mart Tinman to-morrow, and set him agog at his + breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Van Diemen Smith waved his hand for Crickledon to lead the way. + </p> + <p> + Hereupon Ned Crummins looked up from the card he had been turning over and + over, more and more like one arriving at a condemnatory judgment of a + fish. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t go and give my master a card instead of his glass,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that reminds me; and I should like to know what you meant by + bringing that glass away from Mr. Tinman’s house at night,” said Mr. + Smith. “If I’m to pay for it, I’ve a right to know. What’s the meaning of + moving it at night? Eh, let’s hear. Night’s not the time for moving big + glasses like that. I’m not so sure I haven’t got a case.” + </p> + <p> + “If you’ll step round to my master along o’ me, sir,” said Crummins, + “perhaps he’ll explain.” + </p> + <p> + Crummins was requested to state who his master was, and he replied, + “Phippun and Company;” but Mr. Smith positively refused to go with him. + </p> + <p> + “But here,” said he, “is a crown for you, for you’re a civil fellow. + You’ll know where to find me in the morning; and mind, I shall expect + Phippun and Company to give me a very good account of their reason for + moving a big looking-glass on a night like this. There, be off.” + </p> + <p> + The crown-piece in his hand effected a genial change in Crummins’ + disposition to communicate. Crickledon spoke to him about the glass; two + or three of the others present jogged him. “What did Mr. Tinman want by + having the glass moved so late in the day, Ned? Your master wasn’t nervous + about his property, was he?” + </p> + <p> + “Not he,” said Crummins, and began to suck down his upper lip and agitate + his eyelids and stand uneasily, glimmering signs of the setting in of the + tide of narration. + </p> + <p> + He caught the eye of Mr. Smith, then looked abashed at Miss. + </p> + <p> + Crickledon saw his dilemma. “Say what’s uppermost, Ned; never mind how you + says it. English is English. Mr. Tinman sent for you to take the glass + away, now, did n’t he?” + </p> + <p> + “He did,” said Crummins. + </p> + <p> + “And you went to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, that I did.” + </p> + <p> + “And he fastened the chiwal glass upon your back” + </p> + <p> + “He did that.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all plain sailing. Had he bought the glass?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he had n’t bought it. He’d hired it.” + </p> + <p> + As when upon an enforced visit to the dentist, people have had one tooth + out, the remaining offenders are more willingly submitted to the + operation, insomuch that a poetical licence might hazard the statement + that they shed them like leaves of the tree, so Crummins, who had shrunk + from speech, now volunteered whole sentences in succession, and how + important they were deemed by his fellow-townsman, Mr. Smith, and + especially Miss Annette Smith, could perceive in their ejaculations, + before they themselves were drawn into the strong current of interest. + </p> + <p> + And this was the matter: Tinman had hired the glass for three days. + Latish, on the very first day of the hiring, close upon dark, he had + despatched imperative orders to Phippun and Company to take the glass out + of his house on the spot. And why? Because, as he maintained, there was a + fault in the glass causing an incongruous and absurd reflection; and he + was at that moment awaiting the arrival of another chiwal-glass. + </p> + <p> + “Cut along, Ned,” said Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + “What the deuce does he want with a chiwal-glass at all?” cried Mr. Smith, + endangering the flow of the story by suggesting to the narrator that he + must “hark back,” which to him was equivalent to the jumping of a chasm + hindward. Happily his brain had seized a picture: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tinman, he’s a-standin’ in his best Court suit.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tinmau’s old schoolmate gave a jump; and no wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Standing?” he cried; and as the act of standing was really not + extraordinary, he fixed upon the suit: “Court?” + </p> + <p> + “So Mrs. Cavely told me, it was what he was standin’ in, and as I found ‘m + I left ‘m,” said Crummins. + </p> + <p> + “He’s standing in it now?” said Mr. Van Diemen Smith, with a great gape. + </p> + <p> + Crummins doggedly repeated the statement. Many would have ornamented it in + the repetition, but he was for bare flat truth. + </p> + <p> + “He must be precious proud of having a Court suit,” said Mr. Smith, and + gazed at his daughter so glassily that she smiled, though she was + impatient to proceed to Mrs. Crickledon’s lodgings. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! there’s where it is?” interjected the carpenter, with a funny frown + at a low word from Ned Crummins. “Practicing, is he? Mr. Tinman’s + practicing before the glass preparatory to his going to the palace in + London.” + </p> + <p> + “He gave me a shillin’,” said Crummins. + </p> + <p> + Crickledon comprehended him immediately. “We sha’n’t speak about it, Ned.” + </p> + <p> + What did you see? was thus cautiously suggested. + </p> + <p> + The shilling was on Crummins’ tongue to check his betrayal of the secret + scene. But remembering that he had only witnessed it by accident, and that + Mr. Tinman had not completely taken him into his confidence, he thrust his + hand down his pocket to finger the crown-piece lying in fellowship with + the coin it multiplied five times, and was inspired to think himself at + liberty to say: “All I saw was when the door opened. Not the house-door. + It was the parlour-door. I saw him walk up to the glass, and walk back + from the glass. And when he’d got up to the glass he bowed, he did, and he + went back’ards just so.” + </p> + <p> + Doubtless the presence of a lady was the active agent that prevented + Crummins from doubling his body entirely, and giving more than a rapid + indication of the posture of Mr. Tinman in his retreat before the glass. + But it was a glimpse of broad burlesque, and though it was received with + becoming sobriety by the men in the carpenter’s shop, Annette plucked at + her father’s arm. + </p> + <p> + She could not get him to depart. That picture of his old schoolmate Martin + Tinman practicing before a chiwal glass to present himself at the palace + in his Court suit, seemed to stupefy his Australian intelligence. + </p> + <p> + “What right has he got to go to Court?” Mr. Van Diemen Smith inquired, + like the foreigner he had become through exile. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tinman’s bailiff of the town,” said Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + “And what was his objection to that glass I smashed?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s rather an irritable gentleman,” Crickledon murmured, and turned to + Crummins. + </p> + <p> + Crummins growled: “He said it was misty, and gave him a twist.” + </p> + <p> + “What a big fool he must be! eh?” Mr. Smith glanced at Crickledon and the + other faces for the verdict of Tinman’s townsmen upon his character. + </p> + <p> + They had grounds for thinking differently of Tinman. + </p> + <p> + “He’s no fool,” said Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + Another shook his head. “Sharp at a bargain.” + </p> + <p> + “That he be,” said the chorus. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smith was informed that Mr. Tinman would probably end by buying up + half the town. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Mr. Smith, “he can afford to pay half the money for that + glass, and pay he shall.” + </p> + <p> + A serious view of the recent catastrophe was presented by his declaration. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of a colloquy regarding the cost of the glass, during which + it began to be seen by Mr. Tinman’s townsmen that there was laughing-stuff + for a year or so in the scene witnessed by Crummins, if they postponed a + bit their right to the laugh and took it in doses, Annette induced her + father to signal to Crickledon his readiness to go and see the lodgings. + No sooner had he done it than he said, “What on earth made us wait all + this time here? I’m hungry, my dear; I want supper.” + </p> + <p> + “That is because you have had a disappointment. I know you, papa,” said + Annette. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it’s rather a damper about old Mart Tinman,” her father assented. + “Or else I have n’t recovered the shock of smashing that glass, and visit + it on him. But, upon my honour, he’s my only friend in England, I have n’t + a single relative that I know of, and to come and find your only friend + making a donkey of himself, is enough to make a man think of eating and + drinking.” + </p> + <p> + Annette murmured reproachfully: “We can hardly say he is our only friend + in England, papa, can we?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that young fellow? You’ll take my appetite away if you talk + of him. He’s a stranger. I don’t believe he’s worth a penny. He owns he’s + what he calls a journalist.” + </p> + <p> + These latter remarks were hurriedly exchanged at the threshold of + Crickledon’s house. + </p> + <p> + “It don’t look promising,” said Mr. Smith. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t recommend it,” said Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + “Why the deuce do you let your lodgings, then?” + </p> + <p> + “People who have come once come again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I am in England,” Annette sighed joyfully, feeling at home in some + trait she had detected in Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + The story of the shattered chiwal-glass and the visit of Tinman’s old + schoolmate fresh from Australia, was at many a breakfast-table before. + Tinman heard a word of it, and when he did he had no time to spare for + such incidents, for he was reading to his widowed sister Martha, in an + impressive tone, at a tolerably high pitch of the voice, and with a + suppressed excitement that shook away all things external from his mind as + violently as it agitated his body. Not the waves without but the engine + within it is which gives the shock and tremor to the crazy steamer, + forcing it to cut through the waves and scatter them to spray; and so did + Martin Tinman make light of the external attack of the card of VAN DIEMEN + SMITH, and its pencilled line: “An old chum of yours, eh, matey?” Even the + communication of Phippun & Co. concerning the chiwal-glass, failed to + divert him from his particular task. It was indeed a public duty; and the + chiwal-glass, though pertaining to it, was a private business. He that has + broken the glass, let that man pay for it, he pronounced—no doubt in + simpler fashion, being at his ease in his home, but with the serenity of + one uplifted. As to the name VAN DIEMEN SMITH, he knew it not, and so he + said to himself while accurately recollecting the identity of the old chum + who alone of men would have thought of writing eh, matey? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Van Diemen Smith did not present the card in person. “At + Crickledon’s,” he wrote, apparently expecting the bailiff of the town to + rush over to him before knowing who he was. + </p> + <p> + Tinman was far too busy. Anybody can read plain penmanship or print, but + ask anybody not a Cabinet Minister or a Lord-in-Waiting to read out loud + and clear in a Palace, before a Throne. Oh! the nature of reading is + distorted in a trice, and as Tinman said to his worthy sister: “I can do + it, but I must lose no time in preparing myself.” Again, at a reperusal, + he informed her: “I must habituate myself.” For this purpose he had put on + the suit overnight. + </p> + <p> + The articulation of faultless English was his object. His sister Martha + sat vice-regally to receive his loyal congratulations on the illustrious + marriage, and she was pensive, less nervous than her brother from not + having to speak continuously, yet somewhat perturbed. She also had her + task, and it was to avoid thinking herself the Person addressed by her + suppliant brother, while at the same time she took possession of the + scholarly training and perfect knowledge of diction and rules of + pronunciation which would infallibly be brought to bear on him in the + terrible hour of the delivery of the Address. It was no small task + moreover to be compelled to listen right through to the end of the + Address, before the very gentlest word of criticism was allowed. She did + not exactly complain of the renewal of the rehearsal: a fatigue can be + endured when it is a joy. What vexed her was her failing memory for the + points of objection, as in her imagined High Seat she conceived them; for, + in painful truth, the instant her brother had finished she entirely lost + her acuteness of ear, and with that her recollection: so there was nothing + to do but to say: “Excellent! Quite unobjectionable, dear Martin, quite:” + so she said, and emphatically; but the addition of the word “only” was + printed on her contracted brow, and every faculty of Tinman’s mind and + nature being at strain just then, he asked her testily: “What now? what’s + the fault now?” She assured him with languor that there was not a fault. + “It’s not your way of talking,” said he, and what he said was true. His + discernment was extraordinary; generally he noticed nothing. + </p> + <p> + Not only were his perceptions quickened by the preparations for the day of + great splendour: day of a great furnace to be passed through likewise!—he, + was learning English at an astonishing rate into the bargain. A + pronouncing Dictionary lay open on his table. To this he flew at a hint of + a contrary method, and disputes, verifications and triumphs on one side + and the other ensued between brother and sister. In his heart the agitated + man believed his sister to be a misleading guide. He dared not say it, he + thought it, and previous to his African travel through the Dictionary he + had thought his sister infallible on these points. He dared not say it, + because he knew no one else before whom he could practice, and as it was + confidence that he chiefly wanted—above all things, confidence and + confidence comes of practice, he preferred the going on with his practice + to an absolute certainty as to correctness. + </p> + <p> + At midday came another card from Mr. Van Diemen Smith bearing the + superscription: alias Phil R. + </p> + <p> + “Can it be possible,” Tinman asked his sister, “that Philip Ribstone has + had the audacity to return to this country? I think,” he added, “I am + right in treating whoever sends me this card as a counterfeit.” + </p> + <p> + Martha’s advice was, that he should take no notice of the card. + </p> + <p> + “I am seriously engaged,” said Tinman. With a “Now then, dear,” he resumed + his labours. + </p> + <p> + Messages had passed between Tinman and Phippun; and in the afternoon + Phippun appeared to broach the question of payment for the chiwal-glass. + He had seen Mr. Van Diemen Smith, had found him very strange, rather + impracticable. He was obliged to tell Tinman that he must hold him + responsible for the glass; nor could he send a second until payment was + made for the first. It really seemed as if Tinman would be compelled, by + the force of circumstances, to go and shake his old friend by the hand. + Otherwise one could clearly see the man might be off: he might be off at + any minute, leaving a legal contention behind him. On the other hand, + supposing he had come to Crikswich for assistance in money? Friendship is + a good thing, and so is hospitality, which is an essentially English + thing, and consequently one that it behoves an Englishman to think it his + duty to perform, but we do not extend it to paupers. But should a pauper + get so close to us as to lay hold of us, vowing he was once our friend, + how shake him loose? Tinman foresaw that it might be a matter of five + pounds thrown to the dogs, perhaps ten, counting the glass. He put on his + hat, full of melancholy presentiments; and it was exactly half-past five + o’clock of the spring afternoon when he knocked at Crickledon’s door. + </p> + <p> + Had he looked into Crickledon’s shop as he went by, he would have + perceived Van Diemen Smith astride a piece of timber, smoking a pipe. Van + Diemen saw Tinman. His eyes cocked and watered. It is a disgraceful fact + to record of him without periphrasis. In truth, the bearded fellow was + almost a woman at heart, and had come from the Antipodes throbbing to slap + Martin Tinman on the back, squeeze his hand, run over England with him, + treat him, and talk of old times in the presence of a trotting regiment of + champagne. That affair of the chiwal-glass had temporarily damped his + enthusiasm. The absence of a reply to his double transmission of cards had + wounded him; and something in the look of Tinman disgusted his rough + taste. But the well-known features recalled the days of youth. Tinman was + his one living link to the country he admired as the conqueror of the + world, and imaginatively delighted in as the seat of pleasures, and he + could not discard the feeling of some love for Tinman without losing his + grasp of the reason why, he had longed so fervently and travelled so + breathlessly to return hither. In the days of their youth, Van Diemen had + been Tinman’s cordial spirit, at whom he sipped for cheerful visions of + life, and a good honest glow of emotion now and then. Whether it was odd + or not that the sipper should be oblivious, and the cordial spirit + heartily reminiscent of those times, we will not stay to inquire. + </p> + <p> + Their meeting took place in Crickledon’s shop. Tinman was led in by Mrs. + Crickledon. His voice made a sound of metal in his throat, and his air was + that of a man buttoned up to the palate, as he read from the card, + glancing over his eyelids, “Mr. Van Diemen Smith, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Phil Ribstone, if you like,” said the other, without rising. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ah, indeed!” Tinman temperately coughed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear me. So it is. It strikes you as odd?” + </p> + <p> + “The change of name,” said Tinman. + </p> + <p> + “Not nature, though!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Have you been long in England?” + </p> + <p> + “Time to run to Helmstone, and on here. You’ve been lucky in business, I + hear.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you; as things go. Do you think of remaining in England?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve got to settle about a glass I broke last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I have heard of it. Yes, I fear there will have to be a settlement.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall pay half of the damage. You’ll have to stump up your part.” + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen smiled roguishly. + </p> + <p> + “We must discuss that,” said Tinman, smiling too, as a patient in bed may + smile at a doctor’s joke; for he was, as Crickledon had said of him, no + fool on practical points, and Van Diemen’s mention of the half-payment + reassured him as to his old friend’s position in the world, and softly + thawed him. “Will you dine with me to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mind if I do. I’ve a girl. You remember little Netty? She’s + walking out on the beach with a young fellow named Fellingham, whose + acquaintance we made on the voyage, and has n’t left us long to ourselves. + Will you have her as well? And I suppose you must ask him. He’s a + newspaper man; been round the world; seen a lot.” + </p> + <p> + Tinman hesitated. An electrical idea of putting sherry at fifteen + shillings per dozen on his table instead of the ceremonial wine at + twenty-five shillings, assisted him to say hospitably, “Oh! ah! yes; any + friend of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “And now perhaps you’ll shake my fist,” said Van Diemen. + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure,” said Tinman. “It was your change of name, you know, + Philip.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Martin. Van Diemen Smith was a convict, and my benefactor. Why + the deuce he was so fond of that name, I can’t tell you; but his dying + wish was for me to take it and carry it on. He left me his fortune, for + Van Diemen Smith to enjoy life, as he never did, poor fellow, when he was + alive. The money was got honestly, by hard labour at a store. He did evil + once, and repented after. But, by Heaven!”—Van Diemen jumped up and + thundered out of a broad chest—“the man was one of the finest hearts + that ever beat. He was! and I’m proud of him. When he died, I turned my + thoughts home to Old England and you, Martin.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Tinman; and reminded by Van Diemen’s way of speaking, that + cordiality was expected of him, he shook his limbs to some briskness, and + continued, “Well, yes, we must all die in our native land if we can. I + hope you’re comfortable in your lodgings?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll give you one of Mrs. Crickledon’s dinners to try. You’re as good as + mayor of this town, I hear?” + </p> + <p> + “I am the bailiff of the town,” said Mr. Tinman. + </p> + <p> + “You’re going to Court, I’m told.” + </p> + <p> + “The appointment,” replied Mr. Tinman, “will soon be made. I have not yet + an appointed day.” + </p> + <p> + On the great highroad of life there is Expectation, and there is + Attainment, and also there is Envy. Mr. Tinman’s posture stood for + Attainment shadowing Expectation, and sunning itself in the glass of Envy, + as he spoke of the appointed day. It was involuntary, and naturally + evanescent, a momentary view of the spirit. + </p> + <p> + He unbent, and begged to be excused for the present, that he might go and + apprise his sister of guests coming. + </p> + <p> + “All right. I daresay we shall see, enough of one another,” said Van + Diemen. And almost before the creak of Tinman’s heels was deadened on the + road outside the shop, he put the funny question to Crickledon, “Do you + box?” + </p> + <p> + “I make ‘em,” Crickledon replied. + </p> + <p> + “Because I should like to have a go in at something, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen stretched and yawned. + </p> + <p> + Crickledon recommended the taking of a walk. + </p> + <p> + “I think I will,” said the other, and turned back abruptly. “How long do + you work in the day?” + </p> + <p> + “Generally, all the hours of light,” Crickledon replied; “and always up to + supper-time.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re healthy and happy?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing to complain of.” + </p> + <p> + “Good appetite?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty regular.” + </p> + <p> + “You never take a holiday?” + </p> + <p> + “Except Sundays.” + </p> + <p> + “You’d like to be working then?” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t say that.” + </p> + <p> + “But you’re glad to be up Monday morning?” + </p> + <p> + “It feels cheerfuller in the shop.” + </p> + <p> + “And carpentering’s your joy?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I may say so.” + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen slapped his thigh. “There’s life in Old England yet!” + </p> + <p> + Crickledon eyed him as he walked away to the beach to look for his + daughter, and conceived that there was a touch of the soldier in him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Annette Smith’s delight in her native England made her see beauty and + kindness everywhere around her; it put a halo about the house on the + beach, and thrilled her at Tinman’s table when she heard the thunder of + the waves hard by. She fancied it had been a most agreeable dinner to her + father and Mr. Herbert Fellingham—especially to the latter, who had + laughed very much; and she was astonished to hear them at breakfast both + complaining of their evening. In answer to which, she exclaimed, “Oh, I + think the situation of the house is so romantic!” + </p> + <p> + “The situation of the host is exceedingly so,” said Mr. Fellingham; “but I + think his wine the most unromantic liquid I have ever tasted.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be that!” cried Van Diemen, puzzled by novel pains in the head. + “Old Martin woke up a little like his old self after dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “He drank sparingly,” said Mr. Fellingham. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you were satirical last night,” Annette said reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, I told him I thought he was in a romantic situation.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have had a French mademoiselle for my governess and an Oxford + gentleman for my tutor; and I know you accepted French and English from + Mr. Tinman and his sister that I should not have approved.” + </p> + <p> + “Netty,” said Van Diemen, “has had the best instruction money could + procure; and if she says you were satirical, you may depend on it you + were.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in that case, of course!” Mr. Fellingham rejoined. “Who could help + it?” + </p> + <p> + He thought himself warranted in giving the rein to his wicked satirical + spirit, and talked lightly of the accidental character of the letter H in + Tinman’s pronunciation; of how, like somebody else’s hat in a high wind, + it descended on somebody else’s head, and of how his words walked about + asking one another who they were and what they were doing, danced together + madly, snapping their fingers at signification; and so forth. He was + flippant. + </p> + <p> + Annette glanced at her father, and dropped her eyelids. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fellingham perceived that he was enjoined to be on his guard. + </p> + <p> + He went one step farther in his fun; upon which Van Diemen said, with a + frown, “If you please!” + </p> + <p> + Nothing could withstand that. + </p> + <p> + “Hang old Mart Tinman’s wine!” Van Diemen burst out in the dead pause. “My + head’s a bullet. I’m in a shocking bad temper. I can hardly see. I’m + bilious.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fellingham counselled his lying down for an hour, and he went + grumbling, complaining of Mart Tinman’s incredulity about the towering + beauty of a place in Australia called Gippsland. + </p> + <p> + Annette confided to Mr. Fellingham, as soon as they were alone, the + chivalrous nature of her father in his friendships, and his indisposition + to hear a satirical remark upon his old schoolmate, the moment he + understood it to be satire. + </p> + <p> + Fellingham pleaded: “The man’s a perfect burlesque. He’s as distinctly + made to be laughed at as a mask in a pantomime.” + </p> + <p> + “Papa will not think so,” said Annette; “and papa has been told that he is + not to be laughed at as a man of business.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you prize him for that?” + </p> + <p> + “I am no judge. I am too happy to be in England to be a judge of + anything.” + </p> + <p> + “You did not touch his wine!” + </p> + <p> + “You men attach so much importance to wine!” + </p> + <p> + “They do say that powders is a good thing after Mr. Tinman’s wine,” + observed Mrs. Crickledon, who had come into the sitting-room to take away + the breakfast things. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fellingham gave a peal of laughter; but Mrs Crickledon bade him be + hushed, for Mr. Van Diemen Smith had gone to lay down his poor aching head + on his pillow. Annette ran upstairs to speak to her father about a doctor. + </p> + <p> + During her absence, Mr. Fellingham received the popular portrait of Mr. + Tinman from the lips of Mrs. Crickledon. He subsequently strolled to the + carpenter’s shop, and endeavoured to get a confirmation of it. + </p> + <p> + “My wife talks too much,” said Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + When questioned by a gentleman, however, he was naturally bound to answer + to the extent of his knowledge. + </p> + <p> + “What a funny old country it is!” Mr. Fellingham said to Annette, on their + walk to the beach. + </p> + <p> + She implored him not to laugh at anything English. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t, I assure you,” said he. “I love the country, too. But when one + comes back from abroad, and plunges into their daily life, it’s difficult + to retain the real figure of the old country seen from outside, and one + has to remember half a dozen great names to right oneself. And Englishmen + are so funny! Your father comes here to see his old friend, and begins + boasting of the Gippsland he has left behind. Tinman immediately brags of + Helvellyn, and they fling mountains at one another till, on their first + evening together, there’s earthquake and rupture—they were nearly at + fisticuffs at one time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! surely no,” said Annette. “I did not hear them. They were good + friends when you came to the drawingroom. Perhaps the wine did affect poor + papa, if it was bad wine. I wish men would never drink any. How much + happier they would be.” + </p> + <p> + “But then there would cease to be social meetings in England. What should + we do?” + </p> + <p> + “I know that is a sneer; and you were nearly as enthusiastic as I was on + board the vessel,” Annette said, sadly. + </p> + <p> + “Quite true. I was. But see what quaint creatures we have about us! Tinman + practicing in his Court suit before the chiwal-glass! And that good + fellow, the carpenter, Crickledon, who has lived with the sea fronting him + all his life, and has never been in a boat, and he confesses he has only + once gone inland, and has never seen an acorn!” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could see one—of a real English oak,” said Annette. + </p> + <p> + “And after being in England a few months you will be sighing for the + Continent.” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” + </p> + <p> + “You think you will be quite contented here?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I shall be. May papa and I never be exiles again! I did not + feel it when I was three years old, going out to Australia; but it would + be like death to me now. Oh!” Annette shivered, as with the exile’s chill. + </p> + <p> + “On my honour,” said Mr. Fellingham, as softly as he could with the wind + in his teeth, “I love the old country ten times more from your love of + it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not how I want England to be loved,” returned Annette. + </p> + <p> + “The love is in your hands.” + </p> + <p> + She seemed indifferent on hearing it. + </p> + <p> + He should have seen that the way to woo her was to humour her + prepossession by another passion. He could feel that it ennobled her in + the abstract, but a latent spite at Tinman on account of his wine, to + which he continued angrily to attribute as unwonted dizziness of the head + and slight irascibility, made him urgent in his desire that she should + separate herself from Tinman and his sister by the sharp division of + derision. + </p> + <p> + Annette declined to laugh at the most risible caricatures of Tinman. In + her antagonism she forced her simplicity so far as to say that she did not + think him absurd. And supposing Mr. Tinman to have proposed to the titled + widow, Lady Ray, as she had heard, and to other ladies young and + middle-aged in the neighbourhood, why should he not, if he wished to + marry? If he was economical, surely he had a right to manage his own + affairs. Her dread was lest Mr. Tinman and her father should quarrel over + the payment for the broken chiwal-glass: that she honestly admitted, and + Fellingham was so indiscreet as to roar aloud, not so very cordially. + </p> + <p> + Annette thought him unkindly satirical; and his thoughts of her reduced + her to the condition of a commonplace girl with expressive eyes. + </p> + <p> + She had to return to her father. Mr. Fellingham took a walk on the springy + turf along the cliffs; and “certainly she is a commonplace girl,” he began + by reflecting; with a side eye at the fact that his meditations were + excited by Tinman’s poisoning of his bile. “A girl who can’t see the + absurdity of Tinman must be destitute of common intelligence.” After a + while he sniffed the fine sharp air of mingled earth and sea delightedly, + and he strode back to the town late in the afternoon, laughing at himself + in scorn of his wretched susceptibility to bilious impressions, and really + all but hating Tinman as the cause of his weakness—in the manner of + the criminal hating the detective, perhaps. He cast it altogether on + Tinman that Annette’s complexion of character had become discoloured to + his mind; for, in spite of the physical freshness with which he returned + to her society, he was incapable of throwing off the idea of her being + commonplace; and it was with regret that he acknowledged he had gained + from his walk only a higher opinion of himself. + </p> + <p> + Her father was the victim of a sick headache, [Migraine—D.W.]and + lay, a groaning man, on his bed, ministered to by Mrs. Crickledon chiefly. + Annette had to conduct the business with Mr. Phippun and Mr. Tinman as to + payment for the chiwal-glass. She was commissioned to offer half the price + for the glass on her father’s part; more he would not pay. Tinman and + Phippun sat with her in Crickledon’s cottage, and Mrs. Crickledon brought + down two messages from her invalid, each positive, to the effect that he + would fight with all the arms of English law rather than yield his point. + </p> + <p> + Tinman declared it to be quite out of the question that he should pay a + penny. Phippun vowed that from one or the other of them he would have the + money. + </p> + <p> + Annette naturally was in deep distress, and Fellingham postponed the + discussion to the morrow. + </p> + <p> + Even after such a taste of Tinman as that, Annette could not be induced to + join in deriding him privately. She looked pained by Mr. Fellingham’s + cruel jests. It was monstrous, Fellingham considered, that he should draw + on himself a second reprimand from Van Diemen Smith, while they were + consulting in entire agreement upon the case of the chiwal-glass. + </p> + <p> + “I must tell you this, mister sir,” said Van Diemen, “I like you, but I’ll + be straightforward and truthful, or I’m not worthy the name of Englishman; + and I do like you, or I should n’t have given you leave to come down here + after us two. You must respect my friend if you care for my respect. + That’s it. There it is. Now you know my conditions.” + </p> + <p> + “I ‘m afraid I can’t sign the treaty,” said Fellingham. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s more,” said Van Diemen. “I’m a chilly man myself if I hear a laugh + and think I know the aim of it. I’ll meet what you like except scorn. I + can’t stand contempt. So I feel for another. And now you know.” + </p> + <p> + “It puts a stopper on the play of fancy, and checks the throwing off of + steam,” Fellingham remonstrated. “I promise to do my best, but of all the + men I’ve ever met in my life—Tinman!—the ridiculous! Pray + pardon me; but the donkey and his looking-glass! The glass was misty! He—as + particular about his reflection in the glass as a poet with his verses! + Advance, retire, bow; and such murder of the Queen’s English in the very + presence! If I thought he was going to take his wine with him, I’d have + him arrested for high treason.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve chosen, and you know what you best like,” said Van Diemen, + pointing his accents—by which is produced the awkward pause, the + pitfall of conversation, and sometimes of amity. + </p> + <p> + Thus it happened that Mr. Herbert Fellingham journeyed back to London a + day earlier than he had intended, and without saying what he meant to say. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + A month later, after a night of sharp frost on the verge of the warmer + days of spring, Mr. Fellingham entered Crikswich under a sky of perfect + blue that was in brilliant harmony with the green downs, the white cliffs + and sparkling sea, and no doubt it was the beauty before his eyes which + persuaded him of his delusion in having taken Annette for a commonplace + girl. He had come in a merely curious mood to discover whether she was one + or not. Who but a commonplace girl would care to reside in Crikswich, he + had asked himself; and now he was full sure that no commonplace girl would + ever have had the idea. Exquisitely simple, she certainly was; but that + may well be a distinction in a young lady whose eyes are expressive. + </p> + <p> + The sound of sawing attracted him to Crickledon’s shop, and the + industrious carpenter soon put him on the tide of affairs. + </p> + <p> + Crickledon pointed to the house on the beach as the place where Mr. Van + Diemen Smith and his daughter were staying. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! and how does he look?” said Fellingham. + </p> + <p> + “Our town seems to agree with him, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I must not say any more, I suppose.” Fellingham checked his tongue. + “How have they settled that dispute about the chiwal-glass?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tinman had to give way.” + </p> + <p> + “Really.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Crickledon stopped work, “Mr. Tinman sold him a meadow.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith has been buying a goodish bit of ground here. They tell me he’s + about purchasing Elba. He has bought the Crouch. He and Mr. Tinman are + always out together. They’re over at Helmstone now. They’ve been to + London.” + </p> + <p> + “Are they likely to be back to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Certain, I should think. Mr. Tinman has to be in London to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Crickledon looked. He was not the man to look artful, but there was a + lighted corner in his look that revived Fellingham’s recollections, and + the latter burst out: + </p> + <p> + “The Address? I ‘d half forgotten it. That’s not over yet? Has he been + practicing much?” + </p> + <p> + “No more glasses ha’ been broken.” + </p> + <p> + “And how is your wife, Crickledon?” + </p> + <p> + “She’s at home, sir, ready for a talk, if you’ve a mind to try her.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Crickledon proved to be very ready. “That Tinman,” was her theme. He + had taken away her lodgers, and she knew his objects. Mr. Smith repented + of leaving her, she knew, though he dared not say it in plain words. She + knew Miss Smith was tired to death of constant companionship with Mrs. + Cavely, Tinman’s sister. She generally came once in the day just to escape + from Mrs. Cavely, who would not, bless you! step into a cottager’s house + where she was not allowed to patronize. Fortunately Miss Smith had induced + her father to get his own wine from the merchants. + </p> + <p> + “A happy resolution,” said Fellingham; “and a saving one.” + </p> + <p> + He heard further that Mr. Smith would take possession of the Crouch next + month, and that Mrs. Cavely hung over Miss Smith like a kite. + </p> + <p> + “And that old Tinman, old enough to be her father!” said Mrs. Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + She dealt in the flashes which connect ideas. Fellingham, though a man, + and an Englishman, was nervously wakeful enough to see the connection. + </p> + <p> + “They’ll have to consult the young lady first, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “If it’s her father’s nod she’ll bow to it; now mark me,” Mrs. Crickledon + said, with emphasis. “She’s a young lady who thinks for herself, but she + takes her start from her father where it’s feeling. And he’s gone + stone-blind over that Tinman.” + </p> + <p> + While they were speaking, Annette appeared. + </p> + <p> + “I saw you,” she said to Fellingham; gladly and openly, in the most + commonplace manner. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to give me a walk along the beach?” said he. + </p> + <p> + She proposed the country behind the town, and that was quite as much to + his taste. But it was not a happy walk. He had decided that he admired + her, and the notion of having Tinman for a rival annoyed him. He + overflowed with ridicule of Tinman, and this was distressing to Annette, + because not only did she see that he would not control himself before her + father, but he kindled her own satirical spirit in opposition to her + father’s friendly sentiments toward his old schoolmate. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tinman has been extremely hospitable to us,” she said, a little + coldly. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask you, has he consented to receive instruction in deportment and + pronunciation?” + </p> + <p> + Annette did not answer. + </p> + <p> + “If practice makes perfect, he must be near the mark by this time.” + </p> + <p> + She continued silent. + </p> + <p> + “I dare say, in domestic life, he’s as amiable as he is hospitable, and it + must be a daily gratification to see him in his Court suit.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not seen him in his Court suit.” + </p> + <p> + “That is his coyness.” + </p> + <p> + “People talk of those things.” + </p> + <p> + “The common people scandalize the great, about whom they know nothing, you + mean! I am sure that is true, and living in Courts one must be keenly + aware of it. But what a splendid sky and-sea!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it not?” + </p> + <p> + Annette echoed his false rapture with a candour that melted him. + </p> + <p> + He was preparing to make up for lost time, when the wild waving of a + parasol down a road to the right, coming from the town, caused Annette to + stop and say, “I think that must be Mrs. Cavely. We ought to meet her.” + </p> + <p> + Fellingham asked why. + </p> + <p> + “She is so fond of walks,” Anisette replied, with a tooth on her lip + </p> + <p> + Fellingham thought she seemed fond of runs. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Cavely joined them, breathless. “My dear! the pace you go at!” she + shouted. “I saw you starting. I followed, I ran, I tore along. I feared I + never should catch you. And to lose such a morning of English scenery! + </p> + <p> + “Is it not heavenly?” + </p> + <p> + “One can’t say more,” Fellingham observed, bowing. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I am very glad to see you again, sir. You enjoy Crikswich?” + </p> + <p> + “Once visited, always desired, like Venice, ma’am. May I venture to + inquire whether Mr. Tinman has presented his Address?” + </p> + <p> + “The day after to-morrow. The appointment is made with him,” said Mrs. + Cavely, more officially in manner, “for the day after to-morrow. He is + excited, as you may well believe. But Mr. Smith is an immense relief to + him—the very distraction he wanted. We have become one family, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, ma’am, I did not know it,” said Fellingham. + </p> + <p> + The communication imparted such satiric venom to his further remarks, that + Annette resolved to break her walk and dismiss him for the day. + </p> + <p> + He called at the house on the beach after the dinner-hour, to see Mr. Van + Diemen Smith, when there was literally a duel between him and Tinman; for + Van Diemen’s contribution to the table was champagne, and that had been + drunk, but Tinman’s sherry remained. Tinman would insist on Fellingham’s + taking a glass. Fellingham parried him with a sedate gravity of irony that + was painfully perceptible to Anisette. Van Diemen at last backed Tinman’s + hospitable intent, and, to Fellingham’s astonishment, he found that he had + been supposed by these two men to be bashfully retreating from a seductive + offer all the time that his tricks of fence and transpiercings of one of + them had been marvels of skill. + </p> + <p> + Tinman pushed the glass into his hand. + </p> + <p> + “You have spilt some,” said Fellingham. + </p> + <p> + “It won’t hurt the carpet,” said Tinman. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t it?” Fellingham gazed at the carpet, as if expecting a flame to + arise. + </p> + <p> + He then related the tale of the magnanimous Alexander drinking off the + potion, in scorn of the slanderer, to show faith in his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Alexander—Who was that?” said Tinman, foiled in his historical + recollections by the absence of the surname. + </p> + <p> + “General Alexander,” said Fellingham. “Alexander Philipson, or he declared + it was Joveson; and very fond of wine. But his sherry did for him at + last.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! he drank too much, then,” said Tinman. + </p> + <p> + “Of his own!” + </p> + <p> + Anisette admonished the vindictive young gentleman by saying, “How long do + you stay in Crikswich, Mr. Fellingham?” + </p> + <p> + He had grossly misconducted himself. But an adversary at once offensive + and helpless provokes brutality. Anisette prudently avoided letting her + father understand that satire was in the air; and neither he nor Tinman + was conscious of it exactly: yet both shrank within themselves under the + sensation of a devilish blast blowing. Fellingham accompanied them and + certain jurats to London next day. + </p> + <p> + Yes, if you like: when a mayor visits Majesty, it is an important + circumstance, and you are at liberty to argue at length that it means more + than a desire on his part to show his writing power and his reading power: + it is full of comfort the people, as an exhibition of their majesty + likewise; and it is an encouragement to men to strive to become mayors, + bailiffs, or prime men of any sort; but a stress in the reporting of it—the + making it appear too important a circumstance—will surely breathe + the intimation to a politically-minded people that satire is in the air, + and however dearly they cherish the privilege of knocking at the first + door of the kingdom, and walking ceremoniously in to read their writings, + they will, if they are not in one of their moods for prostration, laugh. + They will laugh at the report. + </p> + <p> + All the greater reason is it that we should not indulge them at such + periods; and I say woe’s me for any brother of the pen, and one in some + esteem, who dressed the report of that presentation of the Address of + congratulation by Mr. Bailiff Tinman, of Crikswich! Herbert Fellingham + wreaked his personal spite on Tinman. He should have bethought him that it + involved another than Tinman that is to say, an office—which the + fitful beast rejoices to paw and play with contemptuously now and then, + one may think, as a solace to his pride, and an indemnification for those + caprices of abject worship so strongly recalling the days we see through + Mr. Darwin’s glasses. + </p> + <p> + He should not have written the report. It sent a titter over England. He + was so unwise as to despatch a copy of the newspaper containing it to Van + Diemen Smith. Van Diemen perused it with satisfaction. So did Tinman. Both + of these praised the able young writer. But they handed the paper to the + Coastguard Lieutenant, who asked Tinman how he liked it; and visitors were + beginning to drop in to Crikswich, who made a point of asking for a sight + of the chief man; and then came a comic publication, all in the Republican + tone of the time, with Man’s Dignity for the standpoint, and the wheezy + laughter residing in old puns to back it, in eulogy of the satiric report + of the famous Address of congratulation of the Bailiff of Crikswich. + </p> + <p> + “Annette,” Van Diemen said to his daughter, “you’ll not encourage that + newspaper fellow to come down here any more. He had his warning.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + One of the most difficult lessons for spirited young men to learn is, that + good jokes are not always good policy. They have to be paid for, like good + dinners, though dinner and joke shall seem to have been at somebody else’s + expense. Young Fellingham was treated rudely by Van Diemen Smith, and with + some cold reserve by Annette: in consequence of which he thought her more + than ever commonplace. He wrote her a letter of playful remonstrance, + followed by one that appealed to her sentiments. + </p> + <p> + But she replied to neither of them. So his visits to Crikswich came to an + end. + </p> + <p> + Shall a girl who has no appreciation of fun affect us? Her expressive + eyes, and her quaint simplicity, and her enthusiasm for England, haunted + Mr. Fellingham; being conjured up by contrast with what he met about him. + But shall a girl who would impose upon us the task of holding in our + laughter at Tinman be much regretted? There could be no companionship + between us, Fellingham thought. + </p> + <p> + On an excursion to the English Lakes he saw the name of Van Diemen Smith + in a visitors’ book, and changed his ideas on the subject of + companionship. Among mountains, or on the sea, or reading history, Annette + was one in a thousand. He happened to be at a public ball at Helmstone in + the Winter season, and who but Annette herself came whirling before him on + the arm of an officer! Fellingham did not miss his chance of talking to + her. She greeted him gaily, and speaking with the excitement of the dance + upon her, appeared a stranger to the serious emotions he was willing to + cherish. She had been to the Lakes and to Scotland. Next summer she was + going to Wales. All her experiences were delicious. She was insatiable, + but satisfied. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had been with you,” said Fellingham. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you had,” said she. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Cavely was her chaperon at the ball, and he was not permitted to + enjoy a lengthened conversation sitting with Annette. What was he to think + of a girl who could be submissive to Mrs. Cavely, and danced with any + number of officers, and had no idea save of running incessantly over + England in the pursuit of pleasure? Her tone of saying, “I wish you had,” + was that of the most ordinary of wishes, distinctly, if not designedly + different from his own melodious depth. + </p> + <p> + She granted him one waltz, and he talked of her father and his whimsical + vagrancies and feeling he had a positive liking for Van Diemen, and he + sagaciously said so. + </p> + <p> + Annette’s eyes brightened. “Then why do you never go to see him? He has + bought Elba. We move into the Hall after Christmas. We are at the Crouch + at present. Papa will be sure to make you welcome. Do you not know that he + never forgets a friend or breaks a friendship?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, and I love him for it,” said Fellingham. + </p> + <p> + If he was not greatly mistaken a gentle pressure on the fingers of his + left hand rewarded him. + </p> + <p> + This determined him. It should here be observed that he was by birth the + superior of Annette’s parentage, and such is the sentiment of a better + blood that the flattery of her warm touch was needed for him to overlook + the distinction. + </p> + <p> + Two of his visits to Crikswich resulted simply in interviews and + conversations with Mrs. Crickledon. Van Diemen and his daughter were in + London with Tinman and Mrs. Cavely, purchasing furniture for Elba Hall. + Mrs. Crickledon had no scruple in saying, that Mrs. Cavely meant her + brother to inhabit the Hall, though Mr. Smith had outbid him in the + purchase. According to her, Tinman and Mr. Smith had their differences; + for Mr. Smith was a very outspoken gentleman, and had been known to call + Tinman names that no man of spirit would bear if he was not scheming. + </p> + <p> + Fellingham returned to London, where he roamed the streets famous for + furniture warehouses, in the vain hope of encountering the new owner of + Elba. + </p> + <p> + Failing in this endeavour, he wrote a love-letter to Annette. + </p> + <p> + It was her first. She had liked him. Her manner of thinking she might love + him was through the reflection that no one stood in the way. The letter + opened a world to her, broader than Great Britain. + </p> + <p> + Fellingham begged her, if she thought favourably of him, to prepare her + father for the purport of his visit. If otherwise, she was to interdict + the visit with as little delay as possible and cut him adrift. + </p> + <p> + A decided line of conduct was imperative. Yet you have seen that she was + not in love. She was only not unwilling to be in love. And Fellingham was + just a trifle warmed. Now mark what events will do to light the fires. + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen and Tinman, old chums re-united, and both successful in life, + had nevertheless, as Mrs. Crickledon said, their differences. They + commenced with an opposition to Tinman’s views regarding the expenditure + of town moneys. Tinman was ever for devoting them to the patriotic defence + of “our shores;” whereas Van Diemen, pointing in detestation of the town + sewerage reeking across the common under the beach, loudly called on him + to preserve our lives, by way of commencement. Then Van Diemen + precipitately purchased Elba at a high valuation, and Tinman had expected + by waiting to buy it at his own valuation, and sell it out of friendly + consideration to his friend afterwards, for a friendly consideration. Van + Diemen had joined the hunt. Tinman could not mount a horse. They had not + quarrelled, but they had snapped about these and other affairs. Van Diemen + fancied Tinman was jealous of his wealth. Tinman shrewdly suspected Van + Diemen to be contemptuous of his dignity. He suffered a loss in a loan of + money; and instead of pitying him, Van Diemen had laughed him to scorn for + expecting security for investments at ten per cent. The bitterness of the + pinch to Tinman made him frightfully sensitive to strictures on his + discretion. In his anguish he told his sister he was ruined, and she + advised him to marry before the crash. She was aware that he exaggerated, + but she repeated her advice. She went so far as to name the person. This + is known, because she was overheard by her housemaid, a gossip of Mrs. + Crickledon’s, the subsequently famous “Little Jane.” + </p> + <p> + Now, Annette had shyly intimated to her father the nature of Herbert + Fellingham’s letter, at the same time professing a perfect readiness to + submit to his directions; and her father’s perplexity was very great, for + Annette had rather fervently dramatized the young man’s words at the ball + at Helmstone, which had pleasantly tickled him, and, besides, he liked the + young man. On the other hand, he did not at all like the prospect of + losing his daughter; and he would have desired her to be a lady of title. + He hinted at her right to claim a high position. Annette shrank from the + prospect, saying, “Never let me marry one who might be ashamed of my + father!” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t stomach that,” said Van Diemen, more disposed in favour of + the present suitor. + </p> + <p> + Annette was now in a tremor. She had a lover; he was coming. And if he did + not come, did it matter? Not so very much, except to her pride. And if he + did, what was she to say to him? She felt like an actress who may in a few + minutes be called on the stage, without knowing her part. This was + painfully unlike love, and the poor girl feared it would be her + conscientious duty to dismiss him—most gently, of course; and + perhaps, should he be impetuous and picturesque, relent enough to let him + hope, and so bring about a happy postponement of the question. Her father + had been to a neighbouring town on business with Mr. Tinman. He knocked at + her door at midnight; and she, in dread of she knew not what—chiefly + that the Hour of the Scene had somehow struck—stepped out to him + trembling. He was alone. She thought herself the most childish of mortals + in supposing that she could have been summoned at midnight to declare her + sentiments, and hardly noticed his gloomy depression. He asked her to give + him five minutes; then asked her for a kiss, and told her to go to bed and + sleep. But Annette had seen that a great present affliction was on him, + and she would not be sent to sleep. She promised to listen patiently, to + bear anything, to be brave. “Is it bad news from home?” she said, speaking + of the old home where she had not left her heart, and where his money was + invested. + </p> + <p> + “It’s this, my dear Netty,” said Van Diemen, suffering her to lead him + into her sitting-room; “we shall have to leave the shores of England.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we are ruined.” + </p> + <p> + “We’re not; the rascal can’t do that. We might be off to the Continent, or + we might go to America; we’ve money. But we can’t stay here. I’ll not live + at any man’s mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “The Continent! America!” exclaimed the enthusiast for England. “Oh, papa, + you love living in England so!” + </p> + <p> + “Not so much as all that, my dear. You do, that I know. But I don’t see + how it’s to be managed. Mart Tinman and I have been at tooth and claw + to-day and half the night; and he has thrown off the mask, or he’s dashed + something from my sight, I don’t know which. I knocked him down.” + </p> + <p> + “Papa!” + </p> + <p> + “I picked him up.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” cried Annette, “has Mr. Tinman been hurt?” + </p> + <p> + “He called me a Deserter!” + </p> + <p> + Anisette shuddered. + </p> + <p> + She did not know what this thing was, but the name of it opened a cabinet + of horrors, and she touched her father timidly, to assure him of her + constant love, and a little to reassure herself of his substantial + identity. + </p> + <p> + “And I am one,” Van Diemen made the confession at the pitch of his voice. + “I am a Deserter; I’m liable to be branded on the back. And it’s in Mart + Tinman’s power to have me marched away to-morrow morning in the sight of + Crikswich, and all I can say for myself, as a man and a Briton, is, I did + not desert before the enemy. That I swear I never would have done. Death, + if death’s in front; but your poor mother was a handsome woman, my child, + and there—I could not go on living in barracks and leaving her + unprotected. I can’t tell a young woman the tale. A hundred pounds came on + me for a legacy, as plump in my hands out of open heaven, and your poor + mother and I saw our chance; we consulted, and we determined to risk it, + and I got on board with her and you, and over the seas we went, first to + shipwreck, ultimately to fortune.” + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen laughed miserably. “They noticed in the hunting-field here I + had a soldier-like seat. A soldier-like seat it’ll be, with a brand on it. + I sha’n’t be asked to take a soldier-like seat at any of their tables + again. I may at Mart Tinman’s, out of pity, after I’ve undergone my + punishment. There’s a year still to run out of the twenty of my term of + service due. He knows it; he’s been reckoning; he has me. But the worst + cat-o’-nine-tails for me is the disgrace. To have myself pointed at, + ‘There goes the Deserter’ He was a private in the Carbineers, and he + deserted.’ No one’ll say, ‘Ay, but he clung to the idea of his old + schoolmate when abroad, and came back loving him, and trusted him, and was + deceived.” + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen produced a spasmodic cough with a blow on his chest. Anisette + was weeping. + </p> + <p> + “There, now go to bed,” said he. “I wish you might have known no more than + you did of our flight when I got you on board the ship with your poor + mother; but you’re a young woman now, and you must help me to think of + another cut and run, and what baggage we can scrape together in a jiffy, + for I won’t live here at Mart Tinman’s mercy.” + </p> + <p> + Drying her eyes to weep again, Annette said, when she could speak: “Will + nothing quiet him? I was going to bother you with all sorts of silly + questions, poor dear papa; but I see I can understand if I try. Will + nothing—Is he so very angry? Can we not do something to pacify him? + He is fond of money. He—oh, the thought of leaving England! Papa, it + will kill you; you set your whole heart on England. We could—I could—could + I not, do you not think?—step between you as a peacemaker. Mr. + Tinman is always very courteous to me.” + </p> + <p> + At these words of Annette’s, Van Diemen burst into a short snap of savage + laughter. “But that’s far away in the background, Mr. Mart Tinman!” he + said. “You stick to your game, I know that; but you’ll find me flown, + though I leave a name to stink like your common behind me. And,” he added, + as a chill reminder, “that name the name of my benefactor. Poor old Van + Diemen! He thought it a safe bequest to make.” + </p> + <p> + “It was; it is! We will stay; we will not be exiled,” said Annette. “I + will do anything. What was the quarrel about, papa?” + </p> + <p> + “The fact is, my dear, I just wanted to show him—and take down his + pride—I’m by my Australian education a shrewder hand than his old + country. I bought the house on the beach while he was chaffering, and then + I sold it him at a rise when the town was looking up—only to make + him see. Then he burst up about something I said of Australia. I will have + the common clean. Let him live at the Crouch as my tenant if he finds the + house on the beach in danger.” + </p> + <p> + “Papa, I am sure,” Annette repeated—“sure I have influence with Mr. + Tinman.” + </p> + <p> + “There are those lips of yours shutting tight,” said her father. “Just + listen, and they make a big O. The donkey! He owns you’ve got influence, + and he offers he’ll be silent if you’ll pledge your word to marry him. I’m + not sure he didn’t say, within the year. I told him to look sharp not to + be knocked down again. Mart Tinman for my son-in-law! That’s an upside + down of my expectations, as good as being at the antipodes without a + second voyage back! I let him know you were engaged.” + </p> + <p> + Annette gazed at her father open-mouthed, as he had predicted; now with a + little chilly dimple at one corner of the mouth, now at another—as a + breeze curves the leaden winter lake here and there. She could not get his + meaning into her sight, and she sought, by looking hard, to understand it + better; much as when some solitary maiden lady, passing into her + bedchamber in the hours of darkness, beholds—tradition telling us + she has absolutely beheld foot of burglar under bed; and lo! she stares, + and, cunningly to moderate her horror, doubts, yet cannot but believe that + there is a leg, and a trunk, and a head, and two terrible arms, bearing + pistols, to follow. Sick, she palpitates; she compresses her trepidation; + she coughs, perchance she sings a bar or two of an aria. Glancing down + again, thrice horrible to her is it to discover that there is no foot! For + had it remained, it might have been imagined a harmless, empty boot. But + the withdrawal has a deadly significance of animal life.... + </p> + <p> + In like manner our stricken Annette perceived the object; so did she + gradually apprehend the fact of her being asked for Tinman’s bride, and + she could not think it credible. She half scented, she devised her plan of + escape from another single mention of it. But on her father’s remarking, + with a shuffle, frightened by her countenance, “Don’t listen to what I + said, Netty. I won’t paint him blacker than he is”—then Annette was + sure she had been proposed for by Mr. Tinman, and she fancied her father + might have revolved it in his mind that there was this means of keeping + Tinman silent, silent for ever, in his own interests. + </p> + <p> + “It was not true, when you told Mr. Tinman I was engaged, papa,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “No, I know that. Mart Tinman only half-kind of hinted. Come, I say! + Where’s the unmarried man wouldn’t like to have a girl like you, Netty! + They say he’s been rejected all round a circuit of fifteen miles; and he’s + not bad-looking, neither—he looks fresh and fair. But I thought it + as well to let him know he might get me at a disadvantage, but he couldn’t + you. Now, don’t think about it, my love.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if it is not necessary, papa,” said Annette; and employed her + familiar sweetness in persuading him to go to bed, as though he were the + afflicted one requiring to be petted. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + Round under the cliffs by the sea, facing South, are warm seats in winter. + The sun that shines there on a day of frost wraps you as in a mantle. Here + it was that Mr. Herbert Fellingham found Annette, a chalk-block for her + chair, and a mound of chalk-rubble defending her from the keen-tipped + breath of the east, now and then shadowing the smooth blue water, faintly, + like reflections of a flight of gulls. + </p> + <p> + Infants are said to have their ideas, and why not young ladies? Those who + write of their perplexities in descriptions comical in their length are + unkind to them, by making them appear the simplest of the creatures of + fiction; and most of us, I am sure, would incline to believe in them if + they were only some bit more lightly touched. Those troubled sentiments of + our young lady of the comfortable classes are quite worthy of mention. Her + poor little eye poring as little fishlike as possible upon the intricate, + which she takes for the infinite, has its place in our history, nor should + we any of us miss the pathos of it were it not that so large a space is + claimed for the exposure. As it is, one has almost to fight a battle to + persuade the world that she has downright thoughts and feelings, and + really a superhuman delicacy is required in presenting her that she may be + credible. Even then—so much being accomplished the thousands + accustomed to chapters of her when she is in the situation of Annette will + be disappointed by short sentences, just as of old the Continental eater + of oysters would have been offended at the offer of an exchange of two + live for two dozen dead ones. Annette was in the grand crucial position of + English imaginative prose. I recognize it, and that to this the streamlets + flow, thence pours the flood. But what was the plain truth? She had + brought herself to think she ought to sacrifice herself to Tinman, and her + evasions with Herbert, manifested in tricks of coldness alternating with + tones of regret, ended, as they had commenced, in a mysterious + half-sullenness. She had hardly a word to say. Let me step in again to + observe that she had at the moment no pointed intention of marrying + Tinman. To her mind the circumstances compelled her to embark on the idea + of doing so, and she saw the extremity in an extreme distance, as those + who are taking voyages may see death by drowning. Still she had embarked. + </p> + <p> + “At all events, I have your word for it that you don’t dislike me?” said + Herbert. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! no,” she sighed. She liked him as emigrants the land they are + leaving. + </p> + <p> + “And you have not promised your hand?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, but sighed in thinking that if she could be induced to + promise it, there would not be a word of leaving England. + </p> + <p> + “Then, as you are not engaged, and don’t hate me, I have a chance?” he + said, in the semi-wailful interrogative of an organ making a mere windy + conclusion. + </p> + <p> + Ocean sent up a tiny wave at their feet. + </p> + <p> + “A day like this in winter is rarer than a summer day,” Herbert resumed + encouragingly. + </p> + <p> + Annette was replying, “People abuse our climate—” + </p> + <p> + But the thought of having to go out away from this climate in the darkness + of exile, with her father to suffer under it worse than herself, + overwhelmed her, and fetched the reality of her sorrow in the form of + Tinman swimming before her soul with the velocity of a telegraph-pole to + the window of the flying train. It was past as soon as seen, but it gave + her a desperate sensation of speed. + </p> + <p> + She began to feel that this was life in earnest. + </p> + <p> + And Herbert should have been more resolute, fierier. She needed a strong + will. + </p> + <p> + But he was not on the rapids of the masterful passion. For though going at + a certain pace, it was by his own impulsion; and I am afraid I must, with + many apologies, compare him to the skater—to the skater on easy, + slippery ice, be it understood; but he could perform gyrations as he went, + and he rather sailed along than dashed; he was careful of his figuring. + Some lovers, right honest lovers, never get beyond this quaint + skating-stage; and some ladies, a right goodly number in a foggy climate, + deceived by their occasional runs ahead, take them for vessels on the very + torrent of love. Let them take them, and let the race continue. Only we + perceive that they are skating; they are careering over a smooth icy + floor, and they can stop at a signal, with just half-a-yard of grating on + the heel at the outside. Ice, and not fire nor falling water, has been + their medium of progression. + </p> + <p> + Whether a man should unveil his own sex is quite another question. If we + are detected, not solely are we done for, but our love-tales too. However, + there is not much ground for anxiety on that head. Each member of the + other party is blind on her own account. + </p> + <p> + To Annette the figuring of Herbert was graceful, but it did not catch her + up and carry her; it hardly touched her: He spoke well enough to make her + sorry for him, and not warmly enough to make her forget her sorrow for + herself. + </p> + <p> + Herbert could obtain no explanation of the singularity of her conduct from + Annette, and he went straight to her father, who was nearly as + inexplicable for a time. At last he said: + </p> + <p> + “If you are ready to quit the country with us, you may have my consent.” + </p> + <p> + “Why quit the country?” Herbert asked, in natural amazement. + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen declined to tell him. + </p> + <p> + But seeing the young man look stupefied and wretched he took a turn about + the room, and said: “I have n’t robbed,” and after more turns, “I have n’t + murdered.” He growled in his menagerie trot within the four walls. “But + I’m, in a man’s power. Will that satisfy you? You’ll tell me, because I’m + rich, to snap my fingers. I can’t. I’ve got feelings. I’m in his power to + hurt me and disgrace me. It’s the disgrace—to my disgrace I say it—I + dread most. You’d be up to my reason if you had ever served in a regiment. + I mean, discipline—if ever you’d known discipline—in the + police if you like—anything—anywhere where there’s what we + used to call spiny de cor. I mean, at school. And I’m,” said Van Diemen, + “a rank idiot double D. dolt, and flat as a pancake, and transparent as a + pane of glass. You see through me. Anybody could. I can’t talk of my + botheration without betraying myself. What good am I among you sharp + fellows in England?” + </p> + <p> + Language of this kind, by virtue of its unintelligibility, set Mr. Herbert + Fellingham’s acute speculations at work. He was obliged to lean on Van + Diemen’s assertion, that he had not robbed and had not murdered, to be + comforted by the belief that he was not once a notorious bushranger, or a + defaulting manager of mines, or any other thing that is naughtily + Australian and kangarooly. + </p> + <p> + He sat at the dinner-table at Elba, eating like the rest of mankind, and + looking like a starved beggarman all the while. + </p> + <p> + Annette, in pity of his bewilderment, would have had her father take him + into their confidence. She suggested it covertly, and next she spoke of it + to him as a prudent measure, seeing that Mr. Fellingham might find out his + exact degree of liability. Van Diemen shouted; he betrayed himself in his + weakness as she could not have imagined him. He was ready to go, he said—go + on the spot, give up Elba, fly from Old England: what he could not do was + to let his countrymen know what he was, and live among them afterwards. He + declared that the fact had eternally been present to his mind, devouring + him; and Annette remembered his kindness to the artillerymen posted along + the shore westward of Crikswich, though she could recall no sign of + remorse. Van Diemen said: “We have to do with Martin Tinman; that’s one + who has a hold on me, and one’s enough. Leak out my secret to a second + fellow, you double my risks.” He would not be taught to see how the second + might counteract the first. The singularity of the action of his character + on her position was, that though she knew not a soul to whom she could + unburden her wretchedness, and stood far more isolated than in her + Australian home, fever and chill struck her blood in contemplation of the + necessity of quitting England. + </p> + <p> + Deep, then, was her gratitude to dear good Mrs. Cavely for stepping in to + mediate between her father and Mr. Tinman. And well might she be amazed to + hear the origin of their recent dispute. + </p> + <p> + “It was,” Mrs. Cavely said, “that Gippsland.” + </p> + <p> + Annette cried: “What?” + </p> + <p> + “That Gippsland of yours, my dear. Your father will praise Gippsland + whenever my Martin asks him to admire the beauties of our neighbourhood. + Many a time has Martin come home to me complaining of it. We have no doubt + on earth that Gippsland is a very fine place; but my brother has his + idea’s of dignity, you must know, and I only wish he had been more used to + contradiction, you may believe me. He is a lamb by nature. And, as he + says, ‘Why underrate one’s own country?’ He cannot bear to hear boasting. + Well! I put it to you, dear Annette, is he so unimportant a person? He + asks to be respected, and especially by his dearest friend. From that to + blows! It’s the way with men. They begin about trifles, they drink, they + quarrel, and one does what he is sorry for, and one says more than he + means. All my Martin desires is to shake your dear father’s hand, forgive + and forget. To win your esteem, darling Annette, he would humble himself + in the dust. Will you not help me to bring these two dear old friends + together once more? It is unreasonable of your dear papa to go on boasting + of Gippsland if he is so fond of England, now is it not? My brother is the + offended party in the eye of the law. That is quite certain. Do you + suppose he dreams of taking advantage of it? He is waiting at home to be + told he may call on your father. Rank, dignity, wounded feelings, is + nothing to him in comparison with friendship.” + </p> + <p> + Annette thought of the blow which had felled him, and spoke the truth of + her heart in saying, “He is very generous.” + </p> + <p> + “You understand him.” Mrs. Cavely pressed her hand. “We will both go to + your dear father. He may,” she added, not without a gleam of feminine + archness, “praise Gippsland above the Himalayas to me. What my Martin so + much objected to was, the speaking of Gippsland at all when there was + mention of our Lake scenery. As for me, I know how men love to boast of + things nobody else has seen.” + </p> + <p> + The two ladies went in company to Van Diemen, who allowed himself to be + melted. He was reserved nevertheless. His reception of Mr. Tinman + displeased his daughter. Annette attached the blackest importance to a + blow of the fist. In her mind it blazed fiendlike, and the man who forgave + it rose a step or two on the sublime. Especially did he do so considering + that he had it in his power to dismiss her father and herself from bright + beaming England before she had looked on all the cathedrals and churches, + the sea-shores and spots named in printed poetry, to say nothing of the + nobility. + </p> + <p> + “Papa, you were not so kind to Mr. Tinman as I could have hoped,” said + Annette. + </p> + <p> + “Mart Tinman has me at his mercy, and he’ll make me know it,” her father + returned gloomily. “He may let me off with the Commander-in-chief. He’ll + blast my reputation some day, though. I shall be hanging my head in + society, through him.” + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen imitated the disconsolate appearance of a gallows body, in one + of those rapid flashes of spontaneous veri-similitude which spring of an + inborn horror painting itself on the outside. + </p> + <p> + “A Deserter!” he moaned. + </p> + <p> + He succeeded in impressing the terrible nature of the stigma upon + Annette’s imagination. + </p> + <p> + The guest at Elba was busy in adding up the sum of his own impressions, + and dividing it by this and that new circumstance; for he was totally in + the dark. He was attracted by the mysterious interview of Mrs. Cavely and + Annette. Tinman’s calling and departing set him upon new calculations. + Annette grew cold and visibly distressed by her consciousness of it. + </p> + <p> + She endeavoured to account for this variation of mood. “We have been + invited to dine at the house on the beach to-morrow. I would not have + accepted, but papa... we seemed to think it a duty. Of course the + invitation extends to you. We fancy you do not greatly enjoy dining there. + The table will be laid for you here, if you prefer.” + </p> + <p> + Herbert preferred to try the skill of Mrs. Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + Now, for positive penetration the head prepossessed by a suspicion is + unmatched; for where there is no daylight; this one at least goes about + with a lantern. Herbert begged Mrs. Crickledon to cook a dinner for him, + and then to give the right colour to his absence from the table of Mr. + Tinman, he started for a winter day’s walk over the downs as sharpening a + business as any young fellow, blunt or keen, may undertake; excellent for + men of the pen, whether they be creative, and produce, or slaughtering, + and review; good, then, for the silly sheep of letters and the butchers. + He sat down to Mrs. Crickledon’s table at half-past six. She was, as she + had previously informed him, a forty-pound-a-year cook at the period of + her courting by Crickledon. That zealous and devoted husband had made his + first excursion inland to drop over the downs to the great house, and + fetch her away as his bride, on the death of her master, Sir Alfred + Pooney, who never would have parted with her in life; and every day of + that man’s life he dirtied thirteen plates at dinner, nor more, nor less, + but exactly that number, as if he believed there was luck in it. And as + Crickledon said, it was odd. But it was always a pleasure to cook for him. + Mrs. Crickledon could not abide cooking for a mean eater. And when + Crickledon said he had never seen an acorn, he might have seen one had he + looked about him in the great park, under the oaks, on the day when he + came to be married. + </p> + <p> + “Then it’s a standing compliment to you, Mrs. Crickledon, that he did + not,” said Herbert. + </p> + <p> + He remarked with the sententiousness of enforced philosophy, that no wine + was better than bad wine. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Crickledon spoke of a bottle left by her summer lodgers, who had + indeed left two, calling the wine invalid’s wine; and she and her husband + had opened one on the anniversary of their marriage day in October. It had + the taste of doctor’s shop, they both agreed; and as no friend of theirs + could be tempted beyond a sip, they were advised, because it was called a + tonic, to mix it with the pig-wash, so that it should not be entirely + lost, but benefit the constitution of the pig. Herbert sipped at the + remaining bottle, and finding himself in the superior society of an old + Manzanilla, refilled his glass. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing I knows of proves the difference between gentlefolks and poor + persons as tastes in wine,” said Mrs. Crickledon, admiring him as she + brought in a dish of cutlets,—with Sir Alfred Pooney’s favourite + sauce Soubise, wherein rightly onion should be delicate as the idea of + love in maidens’ thoughts, albeit constituting the element of flavour. + Something of such a dictum Sir Alfred Pooney had imparted to his cook, and + she repeated it with the fresh elegance of, such sweet sayings when + transfused through the native mind: + </p> + <p> + “He said, I like as it was what you would call a young gal’s blush at a + kiss round a corner.” + </p> + <p> + The epicurean baronet had the habit of talking in that way. + </p> + <p> + Herbert drank to his memory. He was well-filled; he had no work to do, and + he was exuberant in spirits, as Mrs. Crickledon knew her countrymen should + and would be under those conditions. And suddenly he drew his hand across + a forehead so wrinkled and dark, that Mrs. Crickledon exclaimed, “Heart or + stomach?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said he. “I’m sound enough in both, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “That old Tinman’s up to one of his games,” she observed. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s circumventing Miss Annette Smith.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! Crickledon. A man of his age can’t be seriously thinking of + proposing for a young lady.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s a well-kept man. He’s never racketed. He had n’t the rackets in him. + And she may n’t care for him. But we hear things drop.” + </p> + <p> + “What things have you heard drop, Crickledon? In a profound silence you + may hear pins; in a hubbub you may hear cannon-balls. But I never believe + in eavesdropping gossip.” + </p> + <p> + “He was heard to say to Mr. Smith,” Crickledon pursued, and she lowered + her voice, “he was heard to say, it was when they were quarreling over + that chiwal, and they went at one another pretty hard before Mr. Smith + beat him and he sold Mr. Smith that meadow; he was heard to say, there was + worse than transportation for Mr. Smith if he but lifted his finger. They + Tinmans have awful tempers. His old mother died malignant, though she was + a saving woman, and never owed a penny to a Christian a hour longer than + it took to pay the money. And old Tinman’s just such another.” + </p> + <p> + “Transportation!” Herbert ejaculated, “that’s sheer nonsense, Crickledon. + I’m sure your husband would tell you so.” + </p> + <p> + “It was my husband brought me the words,” Mrs. Crickledon rejoined with + some triumph. “He did tell me, I own, to keep it shut: but my speaking to + you, a friend of Mr. Smith’s, won’t do no harm. He heard them under the + battery, over that chiwal glass: ‘And you shall pay,’ says Mr. Smith, and + ‘I sha’n’t,’ says old Tinman. Mr. Smith said he would have it if he had to + squeeze a deathbed confession from a sinner. Then old Tinman fires out, + ‘You!’ he says, ‘you’ and he stammered. ‘Mr. Smith,’ my husband said and + you never saw a man so shocked as my husband at being obliged to hear them + at one another Mr. Smith used the word damn. ‘You may laugh, sir.’” + </p> + <p> + “You say it so capitally, Crickledon.” + </p> + <p> + “And then old Tinman said, ‘And a D. to you; and if I lift my finger, it’s + Big D. on your back.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did Mr. Smith say, then?” + </p> + <p> + “He said, like a man shot, my husband says he said, ‘My God!’” + </p> + <p> + Herbert Fellingham jumped away from the table. + </p> + <p> + “You tell me, Crickledon, your husband actually heard that—just + those words?—the tones?” + </p> + <p> + “My husband says he heard him say, ‘My God!’ just like a poor man shot or + stabbed. You may speak to Crickledon, if you speaks to him alone, sir. I + say you ought to know. For I’ve noticed Mr. Smith since that day has never + looked to me the same easy-minded happy gentleman he was when we first + knew him. He would have had me go to cook for him at Elba, but Crickledon + thought I’d better be independent, and Mr. Smith said to me, ‘Perhaps + you’re right, Crickledon, for who knows how long I may be among you?’” + </p> + <p> + Herbert took the solace of tobacco in Crickledon’s shop. Thence, with the + story confirmed to him, he sauntered toward the house on the beach. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + The moon was over sea. Coasting vessels that had run into the bay for + shelter from the North wind lay with their shadows thrown shoreward on the + cold smooth water, almost to the verge of the beach, where there was + neither breath nor sound of wind, only the lisp at the pebbles. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Crickledon’s dinner and the state of his heart made young Fellingham + indifferent to a wintry atmosphere. It sufficed him that the night was + fair. He stretched himself on the shingle, thinking of the Manzanilla, and + Annette, and the fine flavour given to tobacco by a dry still air in + moonlight—thinking of his work, too, in the background, as far as + mental lassitude would allow of it. The idea of taking Annette to see his + first play at the theatre when it should be performed—was very + soothing. The beach rather looked like a stage, and the sea like a ghostly + audience, with, if you will, the broadside bulks of black sailing craft at + anchor for representatives of the newspaper piers. Annette was a nice + girl; if a little commonplace and low-born, yet sweet. What a subject he + could make of her father! “The Deserter” offered a new complication. + Fellingham rapidly sketched it in fancy—Van Diemen, as a Member of + the Parliament of Great Britain, led away from the House of Commons to be + branded on the bank! What a magnificent fall! We have so few intensely + dramatic positions in English real life that the meditative author grew + enamoured of this one, and laughed out a royal “Ha!” like a monarch + reviewing his well-appointed soldiery. + </p> + <p> + “There you are,” said Van Diemen’s voice; “I smelt your pipe. You’re a rum + fellow, to belying out on the beach on a cold night. Lord! I don’t like + you the worse for it. Twas for the romance of the moon in my young days.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Annette?” said Fellingham, jumping to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter? She ‘s taking leave of her intended.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” Fellingham gasped. “Good heavens, Mr. Smith, what do you + mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Pick up your pipe, my lad. Girls choose as they please, I suppose” + </p> + <p> + “Her intended, did you say, sir? What can that mean?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear good young fellow, don’t make a fuss. We’re all going to stay + here, and very glad to see you from time to time. The fact is, I oughtn’t + to have quarrelled with Mart Tinman as I’ve done; I’m too peppery by + nature. The fact is, I struck him, and he forgave it. I could n’t have + done that myself. And I believe I’m in for a headache to-morrow; upon my + soul, I do. Mart Tinman would champagne us; but, poor old boy, I struck + him, and I couldn’t make amends—didn’t see my way; and we joined + hands over the glass—to the deuce with the glass!—and the end + of it is, Netty—she did n’t propose it, but as I’m in his—I + say, as I had struck him, she—it was rather solemn, if you had seen + us—she burst into tears, and there was Mrs. Cavely, and old Mart, + and me as big a fool—if I’m not a villain!” + </p> + <p> + Fellingham perceived a more than common effect of Tin man’s wine. He + touched Van Diemen on the shoulder. “May I beg to hear exactly what has + happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Upon my soul, we’re all going to live comfortably in Old England, and no + more quarreling and decamping,” was the stupid rejoinder. “Except that I + did n’t exactly—I think you said I exactly’?—I did n’t bargain + for old Mart as my—but he’s a sound man; Mart’s my junior; he’s + rich. He’s eco ... he’s eco... you know—my Lord! where’s my brains?—but + he’s upright—‘nomical!” + </p> + <p> + “An economical man,” said Fellingham, with sedate impatience. + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, I’m heartily obliged to you for your assistance,” returned + Van Diemen. “Here she is.” + </p> + <p> + Annette had come out of the gate in the flint wall. She started slightly + on seeing Herbert, whom she had taken for a coastguard, she said. He + bowed. He kept his head bent, peering at her intrusively. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the air on champagne,” Van Diemen said, calling on his lungs to + clear themselves and right him. “I was n’t a bit queer in the house.” + </p> + <p> + “The air on Tinman’s champagne!” said Fellingham. + </p> + <p> + “It must be like the contact of two hostile chemical elements.” + </p> + <p> + Annette walked faster. + </p> + <p> + They descended from the shingle to the scant-bladed grass-sweep running + round the salted town-refuse on toward Elba. Van Diemen sniffed, + ejaculating, “I’ll be best man with Mart Tinman about this business! + You’ll stop with us, Mr.——what’s your Christian name? Stop + with us as long as you like. Old friends for me! The joke of it is that + Nelson was my man, and yet I went and enlisted in the cavalry. If you talk + of chemical substances, old Mart Tinman was a sneak who never cared a dump + for his country; and I’m not to speak a single sybbarel about that..... + over there... Australia... Gippsland! So down he went, clean over. Very + sorry for what we have done. Contrite. Penitent.” + </p> + <p> + “Now we feel the wind a little,” said Annette. + </p> + <p> + Fellingham murmured, “Allow me; your shawl is flying loose.” + </p> + <p> + He laid his hands on her arms, and, pressing her in a tremble, said, “One + sign! It’s not true? A word! Do you hate me?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you very much, but I am not cold,” she replied and linked herself + to her father. + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen immediately shouted, “For we are jolly boys! for we are jolly + boys! It’s the air on the champagne. And hang me,” said he, as they + entered the grounds of Elba, “if I don’t walk over my property.” + </p> + <p> + Annette interposed; she stood like a reed in his way. + </p> + <p> + “No! my Lord! I’ll see what I sold you for!” he cried. “I’m an owner of + the soil of Old England, and care no more for the title of squire than + Napoleon Bonaparty. But I’ll tell you what, Mr. Hubbard: your mother was + never so astonished at her dog as old Van Diemen would be to hear himself + called squire in Old England. And a convict he was, for he did wrong once, + but he worked his redemption. And the smell of my own property makes me + feel my legs again. And I’ll tell you what, Mr. Hubbard, as Netty calls + you when she speaks of you in private: Mart Tinman’s ideas of wine are + pretty much like his ideas of healthy smells, and when I’m bailiff of + Crikswich, mind, he’ll find two to one against him in our town council. I + love my country, but hang me if I don’t purify it—” + </p> + <p> + Saying this, with the excitement of a high resolve a upon him, Van Diemen + bored through a shrubbery-brake, and Fellingham said to Annette: + </p> + <p> + “Have I lost you?” + </p> + <p> + “I belong to my father,” said she, contracting and disengaging her + feminine garments to step after him in the cold silver-spotted dusk of the + winter woods. + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen came out on a fish-pond. + </p> + <p> + “Here you are, young ones!” he said to the pair. “This way, Fellowman. I’m + clearer now, and it’s my belief I’ve been talking nonsense. I’m puffed up + with money, and have n’t the heart I once had. I say, Fellowman, + Fellowbird, Hubbard—what’s your right name?—fancy an old carp + fished out of that pond and flung into the sea. That’s exile! And if the + girl don’t mind, what does it matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Herbert Fellingham, I think, would like to go to bed, papa,” said + Annette. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Smith must be getting cold,” Fellingham hinted. + </p> + <p> + “Bounce away indoors,” replied Van Diemen, and he led them like a bull. + </p> + <p> + Annette was disinclined to leave them together in the smoking-room, and + under the pretext of wishing to see her father to bed she remained with + them, though there was a novel directness and heat of tone in Herbert that + alarmed her, and with reason. He divined in hideous outlines what had + happened. He was no longer figuring on easy ice, but desperate at the + prospect of a loss to himself, and a fate for Annette, that tossed him + from repulsion to incredulity, and so back. + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen begged him to light his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “I’m off to London to-morrow,” said Fellingham. “I don’t want to go, for + very particular reasons; I may be of more use there. I have a cousin who’s + a General officer in the army, and if I have your permission—you + see, anything’s better, as it seems to me, than that you should depend for + peace and comfort on one man’s tongue not wagging, especially when he is + not the best of tempers if I have your permission—without mentioning + names, of course—I’ll consult him.” + </p> + <p> + There was a dead silence. + </p> + <p> + “You know you may trust me, sir. I love your daughter with all my heart. + Your honour and your interests are mine.” + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen struggled for composure. + </p> + <p> + “Netty, what have you been at?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It is untrue, papa!” she answered the unworded accusation. + </p> + <p> + “Annette has told me nothing, sir. I have heard it. You must brace your + mind to the fact that it is known. What is known to Mr. Tinman is pretty + sure to be known generally at the next disagreement.” + </p> + <p> + “That scoundrel Mart!” Van Diemen muttered. + </p> + <p> + “I am positive Mr. Tinman did not speak of you, papa,” said Annette, and + turned her eyes from the half-paralyzed figure of her father on Herbert to + put him to proof. + </p> + <p> + “No, but he made himself heard when it was being discussed. At any rate, + it’s known; and the thing to do is to meet it.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m off. I’ll not stop a day. I’d rather live on the Continent,” said Van + Diemen, shaking himself, as to prepare for the step into that desert. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tinman has been most generous!” Annette protested tearfully. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t say no: I think you are deceived and lend him your own + generosity,” said Herbert. “Can you suppose it generous, that even in the + extremest case, he should speak of the matter to your father, and talk of + denouncing him? He did it.” + </p> + <p> + “He was provoked.” + </p> + <p> + “A gentleman is distinguished by his not allowing himself to be provoked.” + </p> + <p> + “I am engaged to him, and I cannot hear it said that he is not a + gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + The first part of her sentence Annette uttered bravely; at the conclusion + she broke down. She wished Herbert to be aware of the truth, that he might + stay his attacks on Mr. Tinman; and she believed he had only been guessing + the circumstances in which her father was placed; but the comparison + between her two suitors forced itself on her now, when the younger one + spoke in a manner so self-contained, brief, and full of feeling. + </p> + <p> + She had to leave the room weeping. + </p> + <p> + “Has your daughter engaged herself, sir?” said Herbert. + </p> + <p> + “Talk to me to-morrow; don’t give us up if she has we were trapped, it’s + my opinion,” said Van Diemen. “There’s the devil in that wine of—Mart + Tinman’s. I feel it still, and in the morning it’ll be worse. What can she + see in him? I must quit the country; carry her off. How he did it, I don’t + know. It was that woman, the widow, the fellow’s sister. She talked till + she piped her eye—talked about our lasting union. On my soul, I + believe I egged Netty on! I was in a mollified way with that wine; all of + a sudden the woman joins their hands! And I—a man of spirit will + despise me!—what I thought of was, ‘now my secret’s safe!’ You’ve + sobered me, young sir. I see myself, if that’s being sober. I don’t ask + your opinion of me; I am a deserter, false to my colours, a breaker of his + oath. Only mark this: I was married, and a common trooper, married to a + handsome young woman, true as steel; but she was handsome, and we were + starvation poor, and she had to endure persecution from an officer day by + day. Bear that situation in your mind.... Providence dropped me a hundred + pounds out of the sky. Properly speaking, it popped up out of the earth, + for I reaped it, you may say, from a relative’s grave. Rich and poor ‘s + all right, if I’m rich and you’re poor; and you may be happy though you’re + poor; but where there are many poor young women, lots of rich men are a + terrible temptation to them. That’s my dear good wife speaking, and had + she been spared to me I never should have come back to Old England, and + heart’s delight and heartache I should not have known. She was my + backbone, she was my breast-comforter too. Why did she stick to me? + Because I had faith in her when appearances were against her. But she + never forgave this country the hurt to her woman’s pride. You’ll have + noticed a squarish jaw in Netty. That’s her mother. And I shall have to + encounter it, supposing I find Mart Tinman has been playing me false. I’m + blown on somehow. I’ll think of what course I’ll take ‘twixt now and + morning. Good night, young gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “Good night; sir,” said Herbert, adding, “I will get information from the + Horse Guards; as for the people knowing it about here, you’re not living + much in society—” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not other people’s feelings, it’s my own,” Van Diemen silenced him. + “I feel it, if it’s in the wind; ever since Mart Tinman spoke the thing + out, I’ve felt on my skin cold and hot.” + </p> + <p> + He flourished his lighted candle and went to bed, manifestly solaced by + the idea that he was the victim of his own feelings. + </p> + <p> + Herbert could not sleep. Annette’s monstrous choice of Tinman in + preference to himself constantly assailed and shook his understanding. + There was the “squarish jaw” mentioned by her father to think of. It + filled him with a vague apprehension, but he was unable to imagine that a + young girl, and an English girl, and an enthusiastic young English girl, + could be devoid of sentiment; and presuming her to have it, as one must, + there was no fear, that she would persist in her loathsome choice when she + knew her father was against it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + Annette did not shun him next morning. She did not shun the subject, + either. But she had been exact in arranging that she should not be more + than a few minutes downstairs before her father. Herbert found, that + compared with her, girls of sentiment are commonplace indeed. She had + conceived an insane idea of nobility in Tinman that blinded her to his + face, figure, and character—his manners, likewise. He had forgiven a + blow! + </p> + <p> + Silly as the delusion might be, it clothed her in whimsical + attractiveness. + </p> + <p> + It was a beauty in her to dwell so firmly upon moral quality. Overthrown + and stunned as he was, and reduced to helplessness by her brief and + positive replies, Herbert was obliged to admire the singular young lady, + who spoke, without much shyness, of her incongruous, destined mate though + his admiration had an edge cutting like irony. While in the turn for + candour, she ought to have told him, that previous to her decision she had + weighed the case of the diverse claims of himself and Tinman, and resolved + them according to her predilection for the peaceful residence of her + father and herself in England. This she had done a little regretfully, + because of the natural sympathy of the young girl for the younger man. But + the younger man had seemed to her seriously-straightforward mind too light + and airy in his wooing, like one of her waltzing officers—very well + so long as she stepped the measure with him, and not forcible enough to + take her off her feet. He had changed, and now that he had become + persuasive, she feared he would disturb the serenity with which she + desired and strove to contemplate her decision. Tinman’s magnanimity was + present in her imagination to sustain her, though she was aware that Mrs. + Cavely had surprised her will, and caused it to surrender unconsulted by + her wiser intelligence. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot listen to you,” she said to Herbert, after listening longer than + was prudent. “If what you say of papa is true, I do not think he will + remain in Crikswich, or even in England. But I am sure the old friend we + used, to speak of so much in Australia has not wilfully betrayed him.” + </p> + <p> + Herbert would have had to say, “Look on us two!” to proceed in his baffled + wooing; and the very ludicrousness of the contrast led him to see the + folly and shame of proposing it. + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen came down to breakfast looking haggard and restless. “I have + ‘nt had my morning’s walk—I can’t go out to be hooted,” he said, + calling to his daughter for tea, and strong tea; and explaining to Herbert + that he knew it to be bad for the nerves, but it was an antidote to bad + champagne. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Herbert Fellingham had previously received an invitation on behalf of + a sister of his to Crikswich. A dull sense of genuine sagacity inspired + him to remind Annette of it. She wrote prettily to Miss Mary Fellingham, + and Herbert had some faint joy in carrying away the letter of her + handwriting. + </p> + <p> + “Fetch her soon, for we sha’n’t be here long,” Van Diemen said to him at + parting. He expressed a certain dread of his next meeting with Mart + Tinman. + </p> + <p> + Herbert speedily brought Mary Fellingham to Elba, and left her there. The + situation was apparently unaltered. Van Diemen looked worn, like a man who + has been feeding mainly on his reflections, which was manifest in his few + melancholy bits of speech. He said to Herbert: “How you feel a thing when + you are found out!” and, “It doesn’t do for a man with a heart to do + wrong!” He designated the two principal roads by which poor sinners come + to a conscience. His own would have slumbered but for discovery; and, as + he remarked, if it had not been for his heart leading him to Tinman, he + would not have fallen into that man’s power. + </p> + <p> + The arrival of a young lady of fashionable appearance at Elba was matter + of cogitation to Mrs. Cavely. She was disposed to suspect that it meant + something, and Van Diemen’s behaviour to her brother would of itself have + fortified any suspicion. He did not call at the house on the beach, he did + not invite Martin to dinner, he was rarely seen, and when he appeared at + the Town Council he once or twice violently opposed his friend Martin, who + came home ruffled, deeply offended in his interests and his dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Have you noticed any difference in Annette’s treatment of you, dear?” + Mrs. Cavely inquired. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Tinman; “none. She shakes hands. She asks after my health. She + offers me my cup of tea.” + </p> + <p> + “I have seen all that. But does she avoid privacy with you?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, no! Why should she? I hope, Martha, I am a man who may be + confided in by any young lady in England.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you may, dear Martin.” + </p> + <p> + “She has an objection to name the... the day,” said Martin. “I have + informed her that I have an objection to long engagements. I don’t like + her new companion: She says she has been presented at Court. I greatly + doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s to give herself a style, you may depend. I don’t believe her!” + exclaimed Mrs. Cavely, with sharp personal asperity. + </p> + <p> + Brother and sister examined together the Court Guide they had purchased on + the occasion at once of their largest outlay and most thrilling + gratification; in it they certainly found the name of General Fellingham. + “But he can’t be related to a newspaper-writer,” said Mrs. Cavely. + </p> + <p> + To which her brother rejoined, “Unless the young man turned scamp. I hate + unproductive professions.” + </p> + <p> + “I hate him, Martin.” Mrs. Cavely laughed in scorn, “I should say, I pity + him. It’s as clear to me as the sun at noonday, he wanted Annette. That’s + why I was in a hurry. How I dreaded he would come that evening to our + dinner! When I saw him absent, I could have cried out it was Providence! + And so be careful—we have had everything done for us from on High as + yet—but be careful of your temper, dear Martin. I will hasten on the + union; for it’s a shame of a girl to drag a man behind her till he ‘s old + at the altar. Temper, dear, if you will only think of it, is the weak + point.” + </p> + <p> + “Now he has begun boasting to me of his Australian wines!” Tinman + ejaculated. + </p> + <p> + “Bear it. Bear it as you do Gippsland. My dear, you have the retort in + your heart:—Yes! but have you a Court in Australia?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! and his Australian wines cost twice the amount I pay for mine!” + </p> + <p> + “Quite true. We are not obliged to buy them, I should hope. I would, + though—a dozen—if I thought it necessary, to keep him quiet.” + </p> + <p> + Tinman continued muttering angrily over the Australian wines, with a word + of irritation at Gippsland, while promising to be watchful of his temper. + </p> + <p> + “What good is Australia to us,” he asked, “if it does n’t bring us money?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s going to, my dear,” said Mrs. Cavely. “Think of that when he begins + boasting his Australia. And though it’s convict’s money, as he confesses—” + </p> + <p> + “With his convict’s money!” Tinman interjected tremblingly. “How long am I + expected to wait?” + </p> + <p> + “Rely on me to hurry on the day,” said Mrs. Cavely. “There is no other + annoyance?” + </p> + <p> + “Wherever I am going to buy, that man outbids me and then says it’s the + old country’s want of pluck and dash, and doing things large-handed! A man + who’d go on his knees to stop in England!” Tinman vociferated in a breath; + and fairly reddened by the effort: “He may have to do it yet. I can’t + stand insult.” + </p> + <p> + “You are less able to stand insult after Honours,” his sister said, in + obedience to what she had observed of him since his famous visit to + London. “It must be so, in nature. But temper is everything just now. + Remember, it was by command of temper, and letting her father put himself + in the wrong, you got hold of Annette. And I would abstain even from wine. + For sometimes after it, you have owned it disagreed. And I have noticed + these eruptions between you and Mr. Smith—as he calls himself—generally + after wine.” + </p> + <p> + “Always the poor! the poor! money for the poor!” Tinman harped on further + grievances against Van Diemen. “I say doctors have said the drain on the + common is healthy; it’s a healthy smell, nourishing. We’ve always had it + and been a healthy town. But the sea encroaches, and I say my house and my + property is in danger. He buys my house over my head, and offers me the + Crouch to live in at an advanced rent. And then he sells me my house at an + advanced price, and I buy, and then he votes against a penny for the + protection of the shore! And we’re in Winter again! As if he was not in my + power!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Martin, to Elba we go, and soon, if you will govern your temper,” + said Mrs. Cavely. “You’re an angel to let me speak of it so, and it’s only + that man that irritates you. I call him sinfully ostentatious.” + </p> + <p> + “I could blow him from a gun if I spoke out, and he knows it! He’s wanting + in common gratitude, let alone respect,” Tinman snorted. + </p> + <p> + “But he has a daughter, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + Tinman slowly and crackingly subsided. + </p> + <p> + His main grievance against Van Diemen was the non-recognition of his + importance by that uncultured Australian, who did not seem to be conscious + of the dignities and distinctions we come to in our country. The moneyed + daughter, the prospective marriage, for an economical man rejected by + every lady surrounding him, advised him to lock up his temper in + submission to Martha. + </p> + <p> + “Bring Annette to dine with us,” he said, on Martha’s proposing a visit to + the dear young creature. + </p> + <p> + Martha drank a glass of her brother’s wine at lunch, and departed on the + mission. + </p> + <p> + Annette declined to be brought. Her excuse was her guest, Miss Fellingham. + </p> + <p> + “Bring her too, by all means—if you’ll condescend, I am sure,” Mrs. + Cavely said to Mary. + </p> + <p> + “I am much obliged to you; I do not dine out at present,” said the London + lady. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! are you ill?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing in the family, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “My family?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure, I beg pardon,” said Mrs. Cavely, bridling with a spite + pardonable by the severest moralist. + </p> + <p> + “Can I speak to you alone?” she addressed Annette. + </p> + <p> + Miss Fellingham rose. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Cavely confronted her. “I can’t allow it; I can’t think of it. I’m + only taking a little liberty with one I may call my future sister-in-law.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I come out with you?” said Annette, in sheer lassitude assisting + Mary Fellingham in her scheme to show the distastefulness of this lady and + her brother. + </p> + <p> + “Not if you don’t wish to.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no objection.” + </p> + <p> + “Another time will do.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you write?” + </p> + <p> + “By post indeed!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Cavely delivered a laugh supposed to, be peculiar to the English + stage. + </p> + <p> + “It would be a penny thrown away,” said Annette. “I thought you could send + a messenger.” + </p> + <p> + Intercommunication with Miss Fellingham had done mischief to her high + moral conception of the pair inhabiting the house on the beach. Mrs. + Cavely saw it, and could not conceal that she smarted. + </p> + <p> + Her counsel to her brother, after recounting the offensive scene to him in + animated dialogue, was, to give Van Diemen a fright. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had not drunk that glass of sherry before starting,” she + exclaimed, both savagely and sagely. “It’s best after business. And these + gentlemen’s habits of yours of taking to dining late upset me. I’m afraid + I showed temper; but you, Martin, would not have borne one-tenth of what I + did.” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you say so!” her brother rebuked her indignantly; and the house + on the beach enclosed with difficulty a storm between brother and sister, + happily not heard outside, because of loud winds raging. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless Tinman pondered on Martha’s idea of the wisdom of giving Van + Diemen a fright. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + The English have been called a bad-tempered people, but this is to judge + of them by their manifestations; whereas an examination into causes might + prove them to be no worse tempered than that man is a bad sleeper who lies + in a biting bed. If a sagacious instinct directs them to discountenance + realistic tales, the realistic tale should justify its appearance by the + discovery of an apology for the tormented souls. Once they sang madrigals, + once they danced on the green, they revelled in their lusty humours, + without having recourse to the pun for fun, an exhibition of hundreds of + bare legs for jollity, a sentimental wailing all in the throat for music. + Evidence is procurable that they have been an artificially-reared people, + feeding on the genius of inventors, transposers, adulterators, instead of + the products of nature, for the last half century; and it is unfair to + affirm of them that they are positively this or that. They are + experiments. They are the sons and victims of a desperate Energy, alluring + by cheapness, satiating with quantity, that it may mount in the social + scale, at the expense of their tissues. The land is in a state of + fermentation to mount, and the shop, which has shot half their stars to + their social zenith, is what verily they would scald themselves to wash + themselves free of. Nor is it in any degree a reprehensible sign that they + should fly as from hue and cry the title of tradesman. It is on the + contrary the spot of sanity, which bids us right cordially hope. Energy, + transferred to the moral sense, may clear them yet. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile this beer, this wine, both are of a character to have killed + more than the tempers of a less gifted people. Martin Tinman invited Van + Diemen Smith to try the flavour of a wine that, as he said, he thought of + “laying down.” + </p> + <p> + It has been hinted before of a strange effect upon the minds of men who + knew what they were going to, when they received an invitation to dine + with Tinman. For the sake of a little social meeting at any cost, they + accepted it; accepted it with a sigh, midway as by engineering measurement + between prospective and retrospective; as nearly mechanical as things + human may be, like the Mussulman’s accustomed cry of Kismet. Has it not + been related of the little Jew babe sucking at its mother’s breast in + Jerusalem, that this innocent, long after the Captivity, would start + convulsively, relinquishing its feast, and indulging in the purest. Hebrew + lamentation of the most tenacious of races, at the passing sound of a + Babylonian or a Ninevite voice? In some such manner did men, unable to + refuse, deep in what remained to them of nature, listen to Tinman; and so + did Van Diemen, sighing heavily under the operation of simple animal + instinct. + </p> + <p> + “You seem miserable,” said Tinman, not oblivious of his design to give his + friend a fright. + </p> + <p> + “Do I? No, I’m all right,” Van Diemen replied. “I’m thinking of + alterations at the Hall before Summer, to accommodate guests—if I + stay here.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you would not like to be separated from Annette.” + </p> + <p> + “Separated? No, I should think I shouldn’t. Who’d do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I should not like to leave my good sister Martha all to herself + in a house so near the sea—” + </p> + <p> + “Why not go to the Crouch, man?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “No thanks needed if you don’t take advantage of the offer.” + </p> + <p> + They were at the entrance to Elba, whither Mr. Tinman was betaking himself + to see his intended. He asked if Annette was at home, and to his great + stupefaction heard that she had gone to London for a week. + </p> + <p> + Dissembling the spite aroused within him, he postponed his very strongly + fortified design, and said, “You must be lonely.” + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen informed him that it would be for a night only, as young + Fellingham was coming down to keep him company. + </p> + <p> + “At six o’clock this evening, then,” said Tinman. “We’re not fashionable + in Winter.” + </p> + <p> + “Hang me, if I know when ever we were!” Van Diemen rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “Come, though, you’d like to be. You’ve got your ambition, Philip, like + other men.” + </p> + <p> + “Respectable and respected—that ‘s my ambition, Mr. Mart.” + </p> + <p> + Tinman simpered: “With your wealth!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, I ‘m rich—for a contented mind.” + </p> + <p> + “I ‘m pretty sure you ‘ll approve my new vintage,” said Tinman. “It’s + direct from Oporto, my wine-merchant tells me, on his word.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the price?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no. Try it first. It’s rather a stiff price.” + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen was partially reassured by the announcement. “What do you call + a stiff price?” + </p> + <p> + “Well!—over thirty.” + </p> + <p> + “Double that, and you may have a chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Now,” cried Tinman, exasperated, “how can a man from Australia know + anything about prices for port? You can’t divest your ideas of diggers’ + prices. You’re like an intoxicating drink yourself on the tradesmen of our + town. You think it fine—ha! ha! I daresay, Philip, I should be doing + the same if I were up to your mark at my banker’s. We can’t all of us be + lords, nor baronets.” + </p> + <p> + Catching up his temper thus cleverly, he curbed that habitual runaway, and + retired from his old friend’s presence to explode in the society of the + solitary Martha. + </p> + <p> + Annette’s behaviour was as bitterly criticized by the sister as by the + brother. + </p> + <p> + “She has gone to those Fellingham people; and she may be thinking of + jilting us,” Mrs. Cavely said. + </p> + <p> + “In that case, I have no mercy,” cried her brother. “I have borne”—he + bowed with a professional spiritual humility—“as I should, but it + may get past endurance. I say I have borne enough; and if the worst comes + to the worst, and I hand him over to the authorities—I say I mean + him no harm, but he has struck me. He beat me as a boy and he has struck + me as a man, and I say I have no thought of revenge, but I cannot have him + here; and I say if I drive him out of the country back to his Gippsland!” + </p> + <p> + Martin Tinman quivered for speech, probably for that which feedeth speech, + as is the way with angry men. + </p> + <p> + “And what?—what then?” said Martha, with the tender mellifluousness + of sisterly reproach. “What good can you expect of letting temper get the + better of you, dear?” + </p> + <p> + Tinman did not enjoy her recent turn for usurping the lead in their + consultations, and he said, tartly, “This good, Martha. We shall get the + Hall at my price, and be Head People here. Which,” he raised his note, + “which he, a Deserter, has no right to pretend to give himself out to be. + What your feelings may be as an old inhabitant, I don’t know, but I have + always looked up to the people at Elba Hall, and I say I don’t like to + have a Deserter squandering convict’s money there—with his + forty-pound-a-year cook, and his champagne at seventy a dozen. It’s the + luxury of Sodom and Gomorrah.” + </p> + <p> + “That does not prevent its being very nice to dine there,” said Mrs. + Cavely; “and it shall be our table for good if I have any management.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean me, ma’am,” bellowed Tinman. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” she breathed, in dulcet contrast. “You are good-looking, + Martin, but you have not half such pretty eyes as the person I mean. I + never ventured to dream of managing you, Martin. I am thinking of the + people at Elba.” + </p> + <p> + “But why this extraordinary treatment of me, Martha?” + </p> + <p> + “She’s a child, having her head turned by those Fellinghams. But she’s + honourable; she has sworn to me she would be honourable.” + </p> + <p> + “You do think I may as well give him a fright?” Tinman inquired hungrily. + </p> + <p> + “A sort of hint; but very gentle, Martin. Do be gentle—casual like—as + if you did n’t want to say it. Get him on his Gippsland. Then if he brings + you to words, you can always laugh back, and say you will go to Kew and + see the Fernery, and fancy all that, so high, on Helvellyn or the Downs. + Why”—Mrs. Cavely, at the end of her astute advices and cautionings, + as usual, gave loose to her natural character—“Why that man came + back to England at all, with his boastings of Gippsland, I can’t for the + life of me find out. It ‘s a perfect mystery.” + </p> + <p> + “It is,” Tinman sounded his voice at a great depth, reflectively. Glad of + taking the part she was perpetually assuming of late, he put out his hand + and said: “But it may have been ordained for our good, Martha.” + </p> + <p> + “True, dear,” said she, with an earnest sentiment of thankfulness to the + Power which had led him round to her way of thinking and feeling. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + Annette had gone to the big metropolis, which burns in colonial + imaginations as the sun of cities, and was about to see something of + London, under the excellent auspices of her new friend, Mary Fellingham, + and a dense fog. She was alarmed by the darkness, a little in fear, too, + of Herbert; and these feelings caused her to chide herself for leaving her + father. + </p> + <p> + Hearing her speak of her father sadly, Herbert kindly proposed to go down + to Crikswich on the very day of her coming. She thanked him, and gave him + a taste of bitterness by smiling favourably on his offer; but as he wished + her to discern and take to heart the difference between one man and + another, in the light of a suitor, he let her perceive that it cost him + heavy pangs to depart immediately, and left her to brood on his example. + Mary Fellingham liked Annette. She thought her a sensible girl of + uncultivated sensibilities, the reverse of thousands; not commonplace, + therefore; and that the sensibilities were expanding was to be seen in her + gradual unreadiness to talk of her engagement to Mr. Tinman, though her + intimacy with Mary warmed daily. She considered she was bound to marry the + man at some distant date, and did not feel unhappiness yet. She had only + felt uneasy when she had to greet and converse with her intended; + especially when the London young lady had been present. Herbert’s + departure relieved her of the pressing sense of contrast. She praised him + to Mary for his extreme kindness to her father, and down in her unsounded + heart desired that her father might appreciate it even more than she did. + </p> + <p> + Herbert drove into Crikswich at night, and stopped at Crickledon’s, where + he heard that Van Diemen was dining with Tinman. + </p> + <p> + Crickledon the carpenter permitted certain dry curves to play round his + lips like miniature shavings at the name of Tinman; but Herbert asked, + “What is it now?” in vain, and he went to Crickledon the cook. + </p> + <p> + This union of the two Crickledons, male and female; was an ideal one, such + as poor women dream of; and men would do the same, if they knew how poor + they are. Each had a profession, each was independent of the other, each + supported the fabric. Consequently there was mutual respect, as between + two pillars of a house. Each saw the other’s faults with a sly wink to the + world, and an occasional interchange of sarcasm that was tonic, very + strengthening to the wits without endangering the habit of affection. + Crickledon the cook stood for her own opinions, and directed the public + conduct of Crickledon the carpenter; and if he went astray from the line + she marked out, she put it down to human nature, to which she was + tolerant. He, when she had not followed his advice, ascribed it to the + nature of women. She never said she was the equal of her husband; but the + carpenter proudly acknowledged that she was as good as a man, and he bore + with foibles derogatory to such high stature, by teaching himself to + observe a neatness of domestic and general management that told him he + certainly was not as good as a woman. Herbert delighted in them. The cook + regaled the carpenter with skilful, tasty, and economic dishes; and the + carpenter, obedient to her supplications, had promised, in the event of + his outliving her, that no hands but his should have the making of her + coffin. “It is so nice,” she said, “to think one’s own husband will put + together the box you are to lie in, of his own make!” Had they been even a + doubtfully united pair, the cook’s anticipation of a comfortable coffin, + the work of the best carpenter in England, would have kept them together; + and that which fine cookery does for the cementing of couples needs not to + be recounted to those who have read a chapter or two of the natural + history of the male sex. + </p> + <p> + “Crickledon, my dear soul, your husband is labouring with a bit of fun,” + Herbert said to her. + </p> + <p> + “He would n’t laugh loud at Punch, for fear of an action,” she replied. + “He never laughs out till he gets to bed, and has locked the door; and + when he does he says ‘Hush!’ to me. Tinman is n’t bailiff again just yet, + and where he has his bailiff’s best Court suit from, you may ask. He + exercises in it off and on all the week, at night, and sometimes in the + middle of the day.” + </p> + <p> + Herbert rallied her for her gossip’s credulity. + </p> + <p> + “It’s truth,” she declared. “I have it from the maid of the house, little + Jane, whom he pays four pound a year for all the work of the house: a + clever little thing with her hands and her head she is; and can read and + write beautiful; and she’s a mind to leave ‘em if they don’t advance her. + She knocked and went in while he was full blaze, and bowing his poll to + his glass. And now he turns the key, and a child might know he was at it.” + </p> + <p> + “He can’t be such a donkey!” + </p> + <p> + “And he’s been seen at the window on the seaside. ‘Who’s your Admiral + staying at the house on the beach?’ men have inquired as they come ashore. + My husband has heard it. Tinman’s got it on his brain. He might be cured + by marriage to a sound-headed woman, but he ‘ll soon be wanting to walk + about in silk legs if he stops a bachelor. They tell me his old mother + here had a dress value twenty pound; and pomp’s inherited. Save as he may, + there’s his leak.” + </p> + <p> + Herbert’s contempt for Tinman was intense; it was that of the young and + ignorant who live in their imaginations like spendthrifts, unaware of the + importance of them as the food of life, and of how necessary it is to + seize upon the solider one among them for perpetual sustenance when the + unsubstantial are vanishing. The great event of his bailiff’s term of + office had become the sun of Tinman’s system. He basked in its rays. He + meant to be again the proud official, royally distinguished; meantime, + though he knew not that his days were dull, he groaned under the dulness; + and, as cart or cab horses, uncomplaining as a rule, show their view of + the nature of harness when they have release to frisk in a field, it is + possible that existence was made tolerable to the jogging man by some + minutes of excitement in his bailiff’s Court suit. Really to pasture on + our recollections we ought to dramatize them. There is, however, only the + testimony of a maid and a mariner to show that Tinman did it, and those + are witnesses coming of particularly long-bow classes, given to magnify + small items of fact. + </p> + <p> + On reaching the hall Herbert found the fire alight in the smoking-room, + and soon after settling himself there he heard Van Diemen’s voice at the + hall-door saying good night to Tinman. + </p> + <p> + “Thank the Lord! there you are,” said Van Diemen, entering the room. “I + couldn’t have hoped so much. That rascal!” he turned round to the door. + “He has been threatening me, and then smoothing me. Hang his oil! It’s + combustible. And hang the port he’s for laying down, as he calls it. + ‘Leave it to posterity,’ says I. ‘Why?’ says he. ‘Because the young ones + ‘ll be better able to take care of themselves,’ says I, and he insists on + an explanation. I gave it to him. Out he bursts like a wasp’s nest. He may + have said what he did say in temper. He seemed sorry afterwards—poor + old Mart! The scoundrel talked of Horse Guards and telegraph wires.” + </p> + <p> + “Scoundrel, but more ninny,” said Herbert, full of his contempt. “Dare him + to do his worst. The General tells me they ‘d be glad to overlook it at + the Guards, even if they had all the facts. Branding ‘s out of the + question.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear it was done in my time,” cried Van Diemen, all on fire. + </p> + <p> + “It’s out of the question. You might be advised to leave England for a few + months. As for the society here—” + </p> + <p> + “If I leave, I leave for good. My heart’s broken. I’m disappointed. I’m + deceived in my friend. He and I in the old days! What’s come to him? What + on earth is it changes men who stop in England so? It can’t be the + climate. And did you mention my name to General Fellingham?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” said Herbert. “But listen to me, sir, a moment. Why not + get together half-a-dozen friends of the neighbourhood, and make a clean + breast of it. Englishmen like that kind of manliness, and they are sure to + ring sound to it.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t!” Van Diemen sighed. “It’s not a natural feeling I have about + it—I ‘ve brooded on the word. If I have a nightmare, I see Deserter + written in sulphur on the black wall.” + </p> + <p> + “You can’t remain at his mercy, and be bullied as you are. He makes you + ill, sir. He won’t do anything, but he’ll go on worrying you. I’d stop him + at once. I’d take the train to-morrow and get an introduction to the + Commander-in-Chief. He’s the very man to be kind to you in a situation + like this. The General would get you the introduction.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s more to my taste; but no, I couldn’t,” Van Diemen moaned in his + weakness. “Money has unmanned me. I was n’t this kind of man formerly; nor + more was Mart Tinman, the traitor! All the world seems changeing for the + worse, and England is n’t what she used to be.” + </p> + <p> + “You let that man spoil it for you, sir.” Herbert related Mrs. + Crickledon’s tale of Mr. Tinman, adding, “He’s an utter donkey. I should + defy him. What I should do would be to let him know to-morrow morning that + you don’t intend to see him again. Blow for, blow, is the thing he + requires. He’ll be cringing to you in a week.” + </p> + <p> + “And you’d like to marry Annette,” said Van Diemen, relishing, + nevertheless, the advice, whose origin and object he perceived so plainly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I should,” said Herbert, franker still in his colour than his + speech. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see him my girl’s husband.” Van Diemen eyed the red hollow in the + falling coals. “When I came first, and found him a healthy man, + good-looking enough for a trifle over forty, I ‘d have given her gladly, + she nodding Yes. Now all my fear is she’s in earnest. Upon my soul, I had + the notion old Mart was a sort of a boy still; playing man, you know. But + how can you understand? I fancied his airs and stiffness were put on; + thought I saw him burning true behind it. Who can tell? He seems to be + jealous of my buying property in his native town. Something frets him. I + ought never to have struck him! There’s my error, and I repent it. Strike + a friend! I wonder he didn’t go off to the Horse Guards at once. I might + have done it in his place, if I found I couldn’t lick him. I should have + tried kicking first.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, shinning before peaching,” said Herbert, astonished almost as much + as he was disgusted by the inveterate sentimental attachment of Van Diemen + to his old friend. + </p> + <p> + Martin Tinman anticipated good things of the fright he had given the man + after dinner. He had, undoubtedly, yielded to temper, forgetting pure + policy, which it is so exceeding difficult to practice. But he had soothed + the startled beast; they had shaken hands at parting, and Tinman hoped + that the week of Annette’s absence would enable him to mould her father. + Young Fellingham’s appointment to come to Elba had slipped Mr. Tinman’s + memory. It was annoying to see this intruder. “At all events, he’s not + with Annette,” said Mrs. Cavely. “How long has her father to run on?” + </p> + <p> + “Five months,” Tinman replied. “He would have completed his term of + service in five months.” + </p> + <p> + “And to think of his being a rich man because he deserted,” Mrs. Cavely + interjected. “Oh! I do call it immoral. He ought to be apprehended and + punished, to be an example for the good of society. If you lose time, my + dear Martin, your chance is gone. He’s wriggling now. And if I could + believe he talked us over to that young impudent, who has n’t a penny that + he does n’t get from his pen, I’d say, denounce him to-morrow. I long for + Elba. I hate this house. It will be swallowed up some day; I know it; I + have dreamt it. Elba at any cost. Depend upon it, Martin, you have been + foiled in your suits on account of the mean house you inhabit. Enter Elba + as that girl’s husband, or go there to own it, and girls will crawl to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a ridiculous woman, Martha,” said Tinman, not dissenting. + </p> + <p> + The mixture of an idea of public duty with a feeling of personal rancour + is a strong incentive to the pursuit of a stern line of conduct; and the + glimmer of self-interest superadded does not check the steps of the + moralist. Nevertheless, Tinman held himself in. He loved peace. He + preached it, he disseminated it. At a meeting in the town he strove to win + Van Diemen’s voice in favour of a vote for further moneys to protect “our + shores.” Van Diemen laughed at him, telling him he wanted a battery. “No,” + said Tinman, “I’ve had enough to do with soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + “How’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “They might be more cautious. I say, they might learn to know their + friends from their enemies.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s it, that’s it,” said Van Diemen. “If you say much more, my hearty, + you’ll find me bidding against you next week for Marine Parade and Belle + Vue Terrace. I’ve a cute eye for property, and this town’s looking up.” + </p> + <p> + “You look about you before you speculate in land and house property here,” + retorted Tinman. + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen bore so much from him that he asked himself whether he could be + an Englishman. The title of Deserter was his raw wound. He attempted to + form the habit of stigmatizing himself with it in the privacy of his + chamber, and he succeeded in establishing the habit of talking to himself, + so that he was heard by the household, and Annette, on her return, was + obliged to warn him of his indiscretion. This development of a new + weakness exasperated him. Rather to prove his courage by defiance than to + baffle Tinman’s ambition to become the principal owner of houses in + Crikswich, by outbidding him at the auction for the sale of Marine Parade + and Belle Vue Terrace, Van Diemen ran the houses up at the auction, and + ultimately had Belle Vue knocked down to him. So fierce was the quarrel + that Annette, in conjunction with Mrs. Cavely; was called on to interpose + with her sweetest grace. “My native place,” Tinman said to her; “it is my + native place. I have a pride in it; I desire to own property in it, and + your father opposes me. He opposes me. Then says I may have it back at + auction price, after he has gone far to double the price! I have borne—I + repeat I have borne too much.” + </p> + <p> + “Are n’t your properties to be equal to one?” said Mrs. Cavely, smiling + mother—like from Tinman to Annette. + </p> + <p> + He sought to produce a fondling eye in a wry face, and said, “Yes, I will + remember that.” + </p> + <p> + “Annette will bless you with her dear hand in a month or two at the + outside,” Mrs. Cavely murmured, cherishingly. + </p> + <p> + “She will?” Tinman cracked his body to bend to her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I cannot say; do not distress me. Be friendly with papa,” the girl + resumed, moving to escape. + </p> + <p> + “That is the essential,” said Mrs. Cavely; and continued, when Annette had + gone, “The essential is to get over the next few months, miss, and then to + snap your fingers at us. Martin, I would force that man to sell you Belle + Vue under the price he paid for it, just to try your power.” + </p> + <p> + Tinman was not quite so forcible. He obtained Belle Vue at auction price, + and his passion for revenge was tipped with fire by having it accorded as + a friend’s favour. + </p> + <p> + The poisoned state of his mind was increased by a December high wind that + rattled his casements, and warned him of his accession of property exposed + to the elements. Both he and his sister attributed their nervousness to + the sinister behaviour of Van Diemen. For the house on the beach had only, + in most distant times, been threatened by the sea, and no house on earth + was better protected from man,—Neptune, in the shape of a + coastguard, being paid by Government to patrol about it during the hours + of darkness. They had never had any fears before Van Diemen arrived, and + caused them to give thrice their ordinary number of dinners to guests per + annum. In fact, before Van Diemen came, the house on the beach looked on + Crikswich without a rival to challenge its anticipated lordship over the + place, and for some inexplicable reason it seemed to its inhabitants to + have been a safer as well as a happier residence. + </p> + <p> + They were consoled by Tinman’s performance of a clever stroke in privately + purchasing the cottages west of the town, and including Crickledon’s shop, + abutting on Marine Parade. Then from the house on the beach they looked at + an entire frontage of their property. + </p> + <p> + They entered the month of February. No further time was to be lost, “or we + shall wake up to find that man has fooled us,” Mrs. Cavely said. Tinman + appeared at Elba to demand a private interview with Annette. His hat was + blown into the hall as the door opened to him, and he himself was glad to + be sheltered by the door, so violent was the gale. Annette and her father + were sitting together. They kept the betrothed gentleman waiting a very + long time. At last Van Diemen went to him, and said, “Netty ‘ll see you, + if you must. I suppose you have no business with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Not to-day,” Tinman replied. + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen strode round the drawing-room with his hands in his pockets. + “There’s a disparity of ages,” he said, abruptly, as if desirous to pour + out his lesson while he remembered it. “A man upwards of forty marries a + girl under twenty, he’s over sixty before she’s forty; he’s decaying when + she’s only mellow. I ought never to have struck you, I know. And you’re + such an infernal bad temper at times, and age does n’t improve that, they + say; and she’s been educated tip-top. She’s sharp on grammar, and a man + may n’t like that much when he’s a husband. See her, if you must. But she + does n’t take to the idea; there’s the truth. Disparity of ages and + unsuitableness of dispositions—what was it Fellingham said?—like + two barrel-organs grinding different tunes all day in a house.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to hear Mr. Fellingham’s comparisons,” Tinman snapped. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! he’s nothing to the girl,” said Van Diemen. “She doesn’t stomach + leaving me.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Philip! why should she leave you? When we have interests in + common as one household—” + </p> + <p> + “She says you’re such a damned bad temper.” + </p> + <p> + Tinman was pursuing amicably, “When we are united—” But the + frightful charge brought against his temper drew him up. “Fiery I may be. + Annette has seen I am forgiving. I am a Christian. You have provoked me; + you have struck me.” + </p> + <p> + “I ‘ll give you a couple of thousand pounds in hard money to be off the + bargain, and not bother the girl,” said Van Diemen. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” rejoined Tinman, “I am offended. I like money, like most men who + have made it. You do, Philip. But I don’t come courting like a pauper. Not + for ten thousand; not for twenty. Money cannot be a compensation to me for + the loss of Annette. I say I love Annette.” + </p> + <p> + “Because,” Van Diemen continued his speech, “you trapped us into that + engagement, Mart. You dosed me with the stuff you buy for wine, while your + sister sat sugaring and mollifying my girl; and she did the trick in a + minute, taking Netty by surprise when I was all heart and no head; and + since that you may have seen the girl turn her head from marriage like my + woods from the wind.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Van Diemen Smith!” Tinman panted; he mastered himself. “You shall not + provoke me. My introductions of you in this neighbourhood, my patronage, + prove my friendship.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll be a good old fellow, Mart, when you get over your hopes of being + knighted.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Fellingham may set you against my wine, Philip. Let me tell you—I + know you—you would not object to have your daughter called Lady.” + </p> + <p> + “With a spindle-shanked husband capering in a Court suit before he goes to + bed every night, that he may n’t forget what a fine fellow he was one day + bygone! You’re growing lean on it, Mart, like a recollection fifty years + old.” + </p> + <p> + “You have never forgiven me that day, Philip!” + </p> + <p> + “Jealous, am I? Take the money, give up the girl, and see what friends + we’ll be. I’ll back your buyings, I’ll advertise your sellings. I’ll pay a + painter to paint you in your Court suit, and hang up a copy of you in my + diningroom.” + </p> + <p> + “Annette is here,” said Tinman, who had been showing Etna’s tokens of + insurgency. + </p> + <p> + He admired Annette. Not till latterly had Herbert Fellingham been so true + an admirer of Annette as Tinman was. She looked sincere and she dressed + inexpensively. For these reasons she was the best example of womankind + that he knew, and her enthusiasm for England had the sympathetic effect on + him of obscuring the rest of the world, and thrilling him with the + reassuring belief that he was blest in his blood and his birthplace—points + which her father, with his boastings of Gippsland, and other people + talking of scenes on the Continent, sometimes disturbed in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Annette,” said he, “I come requesting to converse with you in private.” + </p> + <p> + “If you wish it—I would rather not,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + Tinman raised his head, as often at Helmstone when some offending + shopwoman was to hear her doom. + </p> + <p> + He bent to her. “I see. Before your father, then!” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t an agreeable bit of business, to me,” Van Diemen grumbled, + frowning and shrugging. + </p> + <p> + “I have come, Annette, to ask you, to beg you, entreat—before a + third person—laughing, Philip?” + </p> + <p> + “The wrong side of my mouth, my friend. And I’ll tell you what: we’re in + for heavy seas, and I ‘m not sorry you’ve taken the house on the beach off + my hands.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray, Mr. Tinman, speak at once, if you please, and I will do my best. + Papa vexes you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” replied Tinman. + </p> + <p> + He renewed his commencement. Van Diemen interrupted him again. + </p> + <p> + “Hang your power over me, as you call it. Eh, old Mart? I’m a Deserter. + I’ll pay a thousand pounds to the British army, whether they punish me or + not. March me off tomorrow!” + </p> + <p> + “Papa, you are unjust, unkind.” Annette turned to him in tears. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said Tinman, “I do not feel it. Your father has misunderstood + me, Annette.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure he has,” she said fervently. “And, Mr. Tinman, I will + faithfully promise that so long as you are good to my dear father, I will + not be untrue to my engagement, only do not wish me to name any day. We + shall be such very good dear friends if you consent to this. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + Pausing for a space, the enamoured man unrolled his voice in lamentation: + “Oh! Annette, how long will you keep me?” + </p> + <p> + “There; you’ll set her crying!” said Van Diemen. “Now you can run + upstairs, Netty. By jingo! Mart Tinman, you’ve got a bass voice for love + affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Annette,” Tinman called to her, and made her turn round as she was + retiring. “I must know the day before the end of winter. Please. In kind + consideration. My arrangements demand it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do let the girl go,” said Van Diemen. “Dine with me tonight and I’ll give + you a wine to brisk your spirits, old boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. When I have ordered dinner at home, I——and my wine + agrees with ME,” Tinman replied. + </p> + <p> + “I doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall not provoke me, Philip.” + </p> + <p> + They parted stiffly. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Cavely had unpleasant domestic news to communicate to her brother, in + return for his tale of affliction and wrath. It concerned the ungrateful + conduct of their little housemaid Jane, who, as Mrs. Cavely said, “egged + on by that woman Crickledon,” had been hinting at an advance of wages. + </p> + <p> + “She didn’t dare speak, but I saw what was in her when she broke a plate, + and wouldn’t say she was sorry. I know she goes to Crickledon and talks us + over. She’s a willing worker, but she has no heart.” + </p> + <p> + Tinman had been accustomed in his shop at Helmstone—where heaven had + blessed him with the patronage of the rich, as visibly as rays of supernal + light are seen selecting from above the heads of prophets in the + illustrations to cheap holy books—to deal with willing workers that + have no hearts. Before the application for an advance of wages—and + he knew the signs of it coming—his method was to calculate how much + he might be asked for, and divide the estimated sum by the figure 4; + which, as it seemed to come from a generous impulse, and had been + unsolicited, was often humbly accepted, and the willing worker pursued her + lean and hungry course in his service. The treatment did not always agree + with his males. Women it suited; because they do not like to lift up their + voices unless they are in a passion; and if you take from them the grounds + of temper, you take their words away—you make chickens of them. And + as Tinman said, “Gratitude I never expect!” Why not? For the reason that + he knew human nature. He could record shocking instances of the + ingratitude of human nature, as revealed to him in the term of his tenure + of the shop at Helmstone. Blest from above, human nature’s wickedness had + from below too frequently besulphured and suffumigated him for his memory + to be dim; and though he was ever ready to own himself an example that + heaven prevaileth, he could cite instances of scandal-mongering shop-women + dismissed and working him mischief in the town, which pointed to him in + person for a proof that the Powers of Good and Evil were still engaged in + unhappy contention. Witness Strikes! witness Revolutions! + </p> + <p> + “Tell her, when she lays the cloth, that I advance her, on account of + general good conduct, five shillings per annum. Add,” said Tinman, “that I + wish no thanks. It is for her merits—to reward her; you understand + me, Martha?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite; if you think it prudent, Martin.” + </p> + <p> + “I do. She is not to breathe a syllable to cook.” + </p> + <p> + “She will.” + </p> + <p> + “Then keep your eye on cook.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Cavely promised she would do so. She felt sure she was paying five + shillings for ingratitude; and, therefore, it was with humility that she + owned her error when, while her brother sipped his sugared acrid liquor + after dinner (in devotion to the doctor’s decree, that he should take a + couple of glasses, rigorously as body-lashing friar), she imparted to him + the singular effect of the advance of wages upon little Jane—“Oh, + ma’am! and me never asked you for it!” She informed her brother how little + Jane had confided to her that they were called “close,” and how little + Jane had vowed she would—the willing little thing!—go about + letting everybody know their kindness. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Ah!” Tinman inhaled the praise. “No, no; I don’t want to be puffed,” + he said. “Remember cook. I have,” he continued, meditatively, “rarely + found my plan fail. But mind, I give the Crickledons notice to quit + to-morrow. They are a pest. Besides, I shall probably think of erecting + villas.” + </p> + <p> + “How dreadful the wind is!” Mrs. Cavely exclaimed. “I would give that girl + Annette one chance more. Try her by letter.” + </p> + <p> + Tinman despatched a business letter to Annette, which brought back a + vague, unbusiness-like reply. Two days afterward Mrs. Cavely reported to + her brother the presence of Mr. Fellingham and Miss Mary Fellingham in + Crikswich. At her dictation he wrote a second letter. This time the reply + came from Van Diemen: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “My DEAR MARTIN,—Please do not go on bothering my girl. She does + not like the idea of leaving me, and my experience tells me I could + not live in the house with you. So there it is. Take it friendly. + I have always wanted to be, and am, + + “Your friend, + + “PHIL.” + </pre> + <p> + Tinman proceeded straight to Elba; that is, as nearly straight as the wind + would allow his legs to walk. Van Diemen was announced to be out; Miss + Annette begged to be excused, under the pretext that she was unwell; and + Tinman heard of a dinner-party at Elba that night. + </p> + <p> + He met Mr. Fellingham on the carriage drive. The young Londoner presumed + to touch upon Tinman’s private affairs by pleading on behalf of the + Crikledons, who were, he said, much dejected by the notice they had + received to quit house and shop. + </p> + <p> + “Another time,” bawled Tinman. “I can’t hear you in this wind.” + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” said Fellingham. + </p> + <p> + “The master of the house is absent,” was the smart retort roared at him; + and Tinman staggered away, enjoying it as he did his wine. + </p> + <p> + His house rocked. He was backed by his sister in the assurance that he had + been duped. + </p> + <p> + The process he supposed to be thinking, which was the castigation of his + brains with every sting wherewith a native touchiness could ply immediate + recollection, led him to conclude that he must bring Van Diemen to his + senses, and Annette running to him for mercy. + </p> + <p> + He sat down that night amid the howling of the storm, wind whistling, + water crashing, casements rattling, beach desperately dragging, as by the + wide-stretched star-fish fingers of the half-engulphed. + </p> + <p> + He hardly knew what he wrote. The man was in a state of personal terror, + burning with indignation at Van Diemen as the main cause of his jeopardy. + For, in order to prosecute his pursuit of Annette, he had abstained from + going to Helmstone to pay moneys into his bank there, and what was + precious to life as well as life itself, was imperilled by those two—Annette + and her father—who, had they been true, had they been honest, to say + nothing of honourable, would by this time have opened Elba to him as a + fast and safe abode. + </p> + <p> + His letter was addressed, on a large envelope, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “To the Adjutant-General, + + “HORSE GUARDS.” + </pre> + <p> + But if ever consigned to the Post, that post-office must be in London; and + Tinman left the letter on his desk till the morning should bring counsel + to him as to the London friend to whom he might despatch it under cover + for posting, if he pushed it so far. + </p> + <p> + Sleep was impossible. Black night favoured the tearing fiends of + shipwreck, and looking through a back window over sea, Tinman saw with + dismay huge towering ghostwhite wreaths, that travelled up swiftly on his + level, and lit the dark as they flung themselves in ruin, with a gasp, + across the mound of shingle at his feet. + </p> + <p> + He undressed: His sister called to him to know if they were in danger. + Clothed in his dressing-gown, he slipped along to her door, to vociferate + to her hoarsely that she must not frighten the servants; and one fine + quality in the training of the couple, which had helped them to prosper, a + form of self-command, kept her quiet in her shivering fears. + </p> + <p> + For a distraction Tinman pulled open the drawers of his wardrobe. His + glittering suit lay in one. And he thought, “What wonderful changes there + are in the world!” meaning, between a man exposed to the wrath of the + elements, and the same individual reading from vellum, in that suit, in a + palace, to the Head of all of us! + </p> + <p> + The presumption is; that he must have often done it before. The fact is + established, that he did it that night. The conclusion drawn from it is, + that it must have given him a sense of stability and safety. + </p> + <p> + At any rate that he put on the suit is quite certain. + </p> + <p> + Probably it was a work of ingratiation and degrees; a feeling of the silk, + a trying on to one leg, then a matching of the fellow with it. O you + Revolutionists! who would have no state, no ceremonial, and but one order + of galligaskins! This man must have been wooed away in spirit to + forgetfulness of the tempest scourging his mighty neighbour to a bigger + and a farther leap; he must have obtained from the contemplation of + himself in his suit that which would be the saving of all men, in especial + of his countrymen—imagination, namely. + </p> + <p> + Certain it is, as I have said, that he attired himself in the suit. He + covered it with his dressing-gown, and he lay down on his bed so garbed, + to await the morrow’s light, being probably surprised by sleep acting upon + fatigue and nerves appeased and soothed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + Elba lay more sheltered from South-east winds under the slopes of down + than any other house in Crikswich. The South-caster struck off the cliff + to a martello tower and the house on the beach, leaving Elba to repose, so + that the worst wind for that coast was one of the most comfortable for the + owner of the hall, and he looked from his upper window on a sea of + crumbling grey chalk, lashed unremittingly by the featureless piping gale, + without fear that his elevated grounds and walls would be open at high + tide to the ravage of water. Van Diemen had no idea of calamity being at + work on land when he sat down to breakfast. He told Herbert that he had + prayed for poor fellows at sea last night. Mary Fellingham and Annette + were anxious to finish breakfast and mount the down to gaze on the sea, + and receiving a caution from Van Diemen not to go too near the cliff, they + were inclined to think he was needlessly timorous on their account. + </p> + <p> + Before they were half way through the meal, word was brought in of great + breaches in the shingle, and water covering the common. Van Diemen sent + for his head gardener, whose report of the state of things outside took + the comprehensive form of prophecy; he predicted the fall of the town. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense; what do you mean, John Scott?” said Van Diemen, eyeing his + orderly breakfast table and the man in turns. “It does n’t seem like that, + yet, does it?” + </p> + <p> + “The house on the beach won’t stand an hour longer, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Who says so?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s cut off from land now, and waves mast-high all about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Mart Tinman?” cried Van Diemen. + </p> + <p> + All started; all jumped up; and there was a scampering for hats and + cloaks. Maids and men of the house ran in and out confirming the news of + inundation. Some in terror for the fate of relatives, others pleasantly + excited, glad of catastrophe if it but killed monotony, for at any rate it + was a change of demons. + </p> + <p> + The view from the outer bank of Elba was of water covering the space of + the common up to the stones of Marine Parade and Belle Vue. But at a + distance it had not the appearance of angry water; the ladies thought it + picturesque, and the house on the beach was seen standing firm. A second + look showed the house completely isolated; and as the party led by Van + Diemen circled hurriedly toward the town, they discerned heavy cataracts + of foam pouring down the wrecked mound of shingle on either side of the + house. + </p> + <p> + “Why, the outer wall’s washed away,” said Van Diemen. “Are they in real + danger?” asked Annette, her teeth chattering, and the cold and other + matters at her heart precluding for the moment such warmth of sympathy as + she hoped soon to feel for them. She was glad to hear her father say: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! they’re high and dry by this time. We shall find them in the town And + we’ll take them in and comfort them. Ten to one they have n’t breakfasted. + They sha’n’t go to an inn while I’m handy.” + </p> + <p> + He dashed ahead, followed closely by Herbert. The ladies beheld them + talking to townsfolk as they passed along the upper streets, and did not + augur well of their increase of speed. At the head of the town water was + visible, part of the way up the main street, and crossing it, the ladies + went swiftly under the old church, on the tower of which were spectators, + through the churchyard to a high meadow that dropped to a stone wall fixed + between the meadow and a grass bank above the level of the road, where now + salt water beat and cast some spray. Not less than a hundred people were + in this field, among them Crickledon and his wife. All were in silent + watch of the house on the beach, which was to east of the field, at a + distance of perhaps three stonethrows. The scene was wild. Continuously + the torrents poured through the shingleclefts, and momently a thunder + sounded, and high leapt a billow that topped the house and folded it + weltering. + </p> + <p> + “They tell me Mart Tinman’s in the house,” Van Diemen roared to Herbert. + He listened to further information, and bellowed: “There’s no boat!” + </p> + <p> + Herbert answered: “It must be a mistake, I think; here’s Crickledon says + he had a warning before dawn and managed to move most of his things, and + the people over there must have been awakened by the row in time to get + off.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t hear a word you say;” Van Diemen tried to pitch his voice higher + than the wind. “Did you say a boat? But where?” + </p> + <p> + Crickledon the carpenter made signal to Herbert. They stepped rapidly up + the field. + </p> + <p> + “Women feels their weakness in times like these, my dear,” Mrs. Crickledon + said to Annette. “What with our clothes and our cowardice it do seem we’re + not the equals of men when winds is high.” + </p> + <p> + Annette expressed the hope to her that she had not lost much property. + Mrs. Crickledon said she was glad to let her know she was insured in an + Accident Company. “But,” said she, “I do grieve for that poor man Tinman, + if alive he be, and comes ashore to find his property wrecked by water. + Bless ye! he wouldn’t insure against anything less common than fire; and + my house and Crickledon’s shop are floating timbers by this time; and + Marine Parade and Belle Vue are safe to go. And it’ll be a pretty welcome + for him, poor man, from his investments.” + </p> + <p> + A cry at a tremendous blow of a wave on the doomed house rose from the + field. Back and front door were broken down, and the force of water drove + a round volume through the channel, shaking the walls. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t stand this,” Van Diemen cried. + </p> + <p> + Annette was too late to hold him back. He ran up the field. She was + preparing to run after when Mrs. Crickledon touched her arm and implored + her: “Interfere not with men, but let them follow their judgements when + it’s seasons of mighty peril, my dear. If any one’s guilty it’s me, for + minding my husband of a boat that was launched for a life-boat here, and + wouldn’t answer, and is at the shed by the Crouch—left lying there, + I’ve often said, as if it was a-sulking. My goodness!” + </p> + <p> + A linen sheet bad been flung out from one of the windows of the house on + the beach, and flew loose and flapping in sign of distress. + </p> + <p> + “It looks as if they had gone mad in that house, to have waited so long + for to declare theirselves, poor souls,” Mrs. Crickledon said, sighing. + </p> + <p> + She was assured right and left that signals had been seen before, and some + one stated that the cook of Mr. Tinman, and also Mrs. Cavely, were on + shore. + </p> + <p> + “It’s his furniture, poor man, he sticks to: and nothing gets round the + heart so!” resumed Mrs. Crickledon. “There goes his bed-linen!” + </p> + <p> + The sheet was whirled and snapped away by the wind; distended doubled, + like a flock of winter geese changeing alphabetical letters on the clouds, + darted this way and that, and finally outspread on the waters breaking + against Marine Parade. + </p> + <p> + “They cannot have thought there was positive danger in remaining,” said + Annette. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tinman was waiting for the cheapest Insurance office,” a man remarked + to Mrs. Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + “The least to pay is to the undertaker,” she replied, standing on tiptoe. + “And it’s to be hoped he ‘ll pay more to-day. If only those walls don’t + fall and stop the chance of the boat to save him for more outlay, poor + man! What boats was on the beach last night, high up and over the ridge as + they was, are planks by this time and only good for carpenters.” + </p> + <p> + “Half our town’s done for,” one old man said; and another followed him in + a pious tone: “From water we came and to water we go.” + </p> + <p> + They talked of ancient inroads of the sea, none so serious as this + threatened to be for them. The gallant solidity, of the house on the beach + had withstood heavy gales: it was a brave house. Heaven be thanked, no + fishing boats were out. Chiefly well-to-do people would be the sufferers—an + exceptional case. For it is the mysterious and unexplained dispensation + that: “Mostly heaven chastises we.” + </p> + <p> + A knot of excited gazers drew the rest of the field to them. Mrs. + Crickledon, on the edge of the crowd, reported what was doing to Annette + and Miss Fellingham. A boat had been launched from the town. “Praise the + Lord, there’s none but coastguard in it!” she exclaimed, and excused + herself for having her heart on her husband. + </p> + <p> + Annette was as deeply thankful that her father was not in the boat. + </p> + <p> + They looked round and saw Herbert beside them. Van Diemen was in the rear, + panting, and straining his neck to catch sight of the boat now pulling + fast across a tumbled sea to where Tinman himself was perceived, beckoning + them wildly, half out of one of the windows. + </p> + <p> + “A pound apiece to those fellows, and two if they land Mart Tinman dry; + I’ve promised it, and they’ll earn it. Look at that! Quick, you rascals!” + </p> + <p> + To the east a portion of the house had fallen, melted away. Where it + stood, just below the line of shingle, it was now like a structure wasting + on a tormented submerged reef. The whole line was given over to the waves. + </p> + <p> + “Where is his sister?” Annette shrieked to her father. + </p> + <p> + “Safe ashore; and one of the women with her. But Mart Tinman would stop, + the fool! to-poor old boy! save his papers and things; and has n’t a head + to do it, Martha Cavely tells me. They’re at him now! They’ve got him in! + There’s another? Oh! it’s a girl, who would n’t go and leave him. They’ll + pull to the field here. Brave lads!—By jingo, why ain’t Englishmen + always in danger!—eh? if you want to see them shine!” + </p> + <p> + “It’s little Jane,” said Mrs. Crickledon, who had been joined by her + husband, and now that she knew him to be no longer in peril, kept her hand + on him to restrain him, just for comfort’s sake. + </p> + <p> + The boat held under the lee of the house-wreck a minute; then, as if + shooting a small rapid, came down on a wave crowned with foam, to hurrahs + from the townsmen. + </p> + <p> + “They’re all right,” said Van Diemen, puffing as at a mist before his + eyes. “They’ll pull westward, with the wind, and land him among us. I + remember when old Mart and I were bathing once, he was younger than me, + and could n’t swim much, and I saw him going down. It’d have been hard to + see him washed off before one’s eyes thirty years afterwards. Here they + come. He’s all right. He’s in his dressing-gown!” + </p> + <p> + The crowd made way for Mr. Van Diemen Smith to welcome his friend. Two of + the coastguard jumped out, and handed him to the dry bank, while Herbert, + Van Diemen, and Crickledon took him by hand and arm, and hoisted him on to + the flint wall, preparatory to his descent into the field. In this exposed + situation the wind, whose pranks are endless when it is once up, seized + and blew Martin Tinman’s dressing-gown wide as two violently flapping + wings on each side of him, and finally over his head. + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen turned a pair of stupefied flat eyes on Herbert, who cast a sly + look at the ladies. Tinman had sprung down. But not before the world, in + one tempestuous glimpse, had caught sight of the Court suit. + </p> + <p> + Perfect gravity greeted him from the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “Safe, old Mart! and glad to be able to say it,” said Van Diemen. + </p> + <p> + “We are so happy,” said Annette. + </p> + <p> + “House, furniture, property, everything I possess!” ejaculated Tinman, + shivering. + </p> + <p> + “Fiddle, man; you want some hot breakfast in you. Your sister has gone on—to + Elba. Come you too, old Man; and where’s that plucky little girl who stood + by—” + </p> + <p> + “Was there a girl?” said Tinman. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and there was a boy wanted to help.” Van Diemen pointed at Herbert. + </p> + <p> + Tinman looked, and piteously asked, “Have you examined Marine Parade and + Belle Vue? It depends on the tide!” + </p> + <p> + “Here is little Jane, sir,” said Mrs. Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + “Fall in,” Van Diemen said to little Jane. + </p> + <p> + The girl was bobbing curtseys to Annette, on her introduction by Mrs. + Crickledon. + </p> + <p> + “Martin, you stay at my house; you stay at Elba till you get things + comfortable about you, and then you shall have the Crouch for a year, rent + free. Eh, Netty?” + </p> + <p> + Annette chimed in: “Anything we can do, anything. Nothing can be too + much.” + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen was praising little Jane for her devotion to her master. + </p> + <p> + “Master have been so kind to me,” said little Jane. + </p> + <p> + “Now, march; it is cold,” Van Diemen gave the word, and Herbert stood by + Mary rather dejectedly, foreseeing that his prospects at Elba were + darkened. + </p> + <p> + “Now then, Mart, left leg forward,” Van Diemen linked his arm in his + friend’s. + </p> + <p> + “I must have a look,” Tinman broke from him, and cast a forlorn look of + farewell on the last of the house on the beach. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve got me left to you, old Mart; don’t forget that,” said Van Diemen. + </p> + <p> + Tinman’s chest fell. “Yes, yes,” he responded. He was touched. + </p> + <p> + “And I told those fellows if they landed you dry they should have—I’d + give them double pay; and I do believe they’ve earned their money.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think I’m very wet, I’m cold,” said Tinman. + </p> + <p> + “You can’t help being cold, so come along.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Philip!” Tinman lifted his voice; “I’ve lost everything. I tried to + save a little. I worked hard, I exposed my life, and all in vain.” + </p> + <p> + The voice of little Jane was heard. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter with the child?” said Van Diemen. + </p> + <p> + Annette went up to her quietly. + </p> + <p> + But little Jane was addressing her master. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if you please, I did manage to save something the last thing when the + boat was at the window, and if you please, sir, all the bundles is lost, + but I saved you a papercutter, and a letter Horse Guards, and here they + are, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The grateful little creature drew the square letter and paper-cutter from + her bosom, and held them out to Mr. Tinman. + </p> + <p> + It was a letter of the imposing size, with THE HORSE GUARDS very + distinctly inscribed on it in Tinman’s best round hand, to strike his + vindictive spirit as positively intended for transmission, and give him + sight of his power to wound if it pleased him; as it might. + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried he, not clearly comprehending how much her devotion had + accomplished for him. + </p> + <p> + “A letter to the Horse Guards!” cried Van Diemen. + </p> + <p> + “Here, give it me,” said little Jane’s master, and grasped it nervously. + </p> + <p> + “What’s in that letter?” Van Diemen asked. “Let me look at that letter. + Don’t tell me it’s private correspondence.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Philip, dear friend, kind thanks; it’s not a letter,” said + Tinman. + </p> + <p> + “Not a letter! why, I read the address, ‘Horse Guards.’ I read it as it + passed into your hands. Now, my man, one look at that letter, or take the + consequences.” + </p> + <p> + “Kind thanks for your assistance, dear Philip, indeed! Oh! this? Oh! it’s + nothing.” He tore it in halves. + </p> + <p> + His face was of the winter sea-colour, with the chalk wash on it. + </p> + <p> + “Tear again, and I shall know what to think of the contents,” Van Diemen + frowned. “Let me see what you’ve said. You’ve sworn you would do it, and + there it is at last, by miracle; but let me see it and I’ll overlook it, + and you shall be my house-mate still. If not!——” + </p> + <p> + Tinman tore away. + </p> + <p> + “You mistake, you mistake, you’re entirely wrong,” he said, as he pursued + with desperation his task of rendering every word unreadable. + </p> + <p> + Van Diemen stood fronting him; the accumulation of stores of petty + injuries and meannesses which he had endured from this man, swelled under + the whip of the conclusive exhibition of treachery. He looked so black + that Annette called, “Papa!” + </p> + <p> + “Philip,” said Tinman. “Philip! my best friend!” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, you’re a poor creature. Come along and breakfast at Elba, and you + can sleep at the Crouch, and goodnight to you. Crickledon,” he called to + the houseless couple, “you stop at Elba till I build you a shop.” + </p> + <p> + With these words, Van Diemen led the way, walking alone. Herbert was + compelled to walk with Tinman. + </p> + <p> + Mary and Annette came behind, and Mary pinched Annette’s arm so sharply + that she must have cried out aloud had it been possible for her to feel + pain at that moment, instead of a personal exultation, flying wildly over + the clash of astonishment and horror, like a sea-bird over the foam. + </p> + <p> + In the first silent place they came to, Mary murmured the words: “Little + Jane.” + </p> + <p> + Annette looked round at Mrs. Crickledon, who wound up the procession, + taking little Jane by the hand. Little Jane was walking demurely, with a + placid face. Annette glanced at Tinman. Her excited feelings nearly rose + to a scream of laughter. For hours after, Mary had only to say to her: + “Little Jane,” to produce the same convulsion. It rolled her heart and + senses in a headlong surge, shook her to burning tears, and seemed to her + ideas the most wonderful running together of opposite things ever known on + this earth. The young lady was ashamed of her laughter; but she was deeply + indebted to it, for never was mind made so clear by that beneficent + exercise. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + Adversary at once offensive and helpless provokes brutality + Causes him to be popularly weighed + Distinguished by his not allowing himself to be provoked + Eccentric behaviour in trifles + Excited, glad of catastrophe if it but killed monotony + Generally he noticed nothing + Good jokes are not always good policy + I make a point of never recommending my own house + Indulged in their privilege of thinking what they liked + Infants are said to have their ideas, and why not young ladies? + Lend him your own generosity + Men love to boast of things nobody else has seen + Naughtily Australian and kangarooly + Not in love—She was only not unwilling to be in love + Rich and poor ‘s all right, if I’m rich and you’re poor + She began to feel that this was life in earnest + She dealt in the flashes which connect ideas + She sought, by looking hard, to understand it better + Sunning itself in the glass of Envy + That which fine cookery does for the cementing of couples + The intricate, which she takes for the infinite + Tossed him from repulsion to incredulity, and so back + Two principal roads by which poor sinners come to a conscience +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0052" id="link2H_4_0052"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE GENTLEMAN OF FIFTY AND THE DAMSEL OF NINETEEN + </h2> + <h3> + (An early uncompleted and hitherto unpublished fragment.) + </h3> + <p> + By GEORGE MEREDITH + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + HE + </h3> + <p> + Passing over Ickleworth Bridge and rounding up the heavily-shadowed river + of our narrow valley, I perceived a commotion as of bathers in a certain + bright space immediately underneath the vicar’s terrace-garden steps. My + astonishment was considerable when it became evident to me that the vicar + himself was disporting in the water, which, reaching no higher than his + waist, disclosed him in the ordinary habiliments of his cloth. I knew my + friend to be one of the most absent-minded of men, and my first effort to + explain the phenomenon of his appearance there, suggested that he might + have walked in, the victim of a fit of abstraction, and that he had not + yet fully comprehended his plight; but this idea was dispersed when I + beheld the very portly lady, his partner in joy and adversity, standing + immersed, and perfectly attired, some short distance nearer to the bank. + As I advanced along the bank opposed to them, I was further amazed to hear + them discoursing quite equably together, so that it was impossible to say + on the face of it whether a catastrophe had occurred, or the great heat of + a cloudless summer day had tempted an eccentric couple to seek for + coolness in the directest fashion, without absolute disregard to + propriety. I made a point of listening for the accentuation of the ‘my + dear’ which was being interchanged, but the key-note to the harmony + existing between husband and wife was neither excessively unctuous, nor + shrewd, and the connubial shuttlecock was so well kept up on both sides + that I chose to await the issue rather than speculate on the origin of + this strange exhibition. I therefore, as I could not be accused of an + outrage to modesty, permitted myself to maintain what might be invidiously + termed a satyr-like watch from behind a forward flinging willow, whose + business in life was to look at its image in a brown depth, branches, + trunk, and roots. The sole indication of discomfort displayed by the pair + was that the lady’s hand worked somewhat fretfully to keep her dress from + ballooning and puffing out of all proportion round about her person, while + the vicar, who stood without his hat, employed a spongy handkerchief from + time to time in tempering the ardours of a vertical sun. If you will + consent to imagine a bald blackbird, his neck being shrunk in + apprehensively, as you may see him in the first rolling of the thunder, + you will gather an image of my friend’s appearance. + </p> + <p> + He performed his capital ablutions with many loud ‘poofs,’ and a casting + up of dazzled eyes, an action that gave point to his recital of the + invocation of Chryses to Smintheus which brought upon the Greeks disaster + and much woe. Between the lines he replied to his wife, whose remarks + increased in quantity, and also, as I thought, in emphasis, under the + river of verse which he poured forth unbaffled, broadening his chest to + the sonorous Greek music in a singular rapture of obliviousness. + </p> + <p> + A wise man will not squander his laughter if he can help it, but will keep + the agitation of it down as long as he may. The simmering of humour sends + a lively spirit into the mind, whereas the boiling over is but a prodigal + expenditure and the disturbance of a clear current: for the comic element + is visible to you in all things, if you do but keep your mind charged with + the perception of it, as I have heard a great expounder deliver himself on + another subject; and he spoke very truly. So, I continued to look on with + the gravity of Nature herself, and I could not but fancy, and with less + than our usual wilfulness when we fancy things about Nature’s moods, that + the Mother of men beheld this scene with half a smile, differently from + the simple observation of those cows whisking the flies from their flanks + at the edge of the shorn meadow and its aspens, seen beneath the curved + roof of a broad oak-branch. Save for this happy upward curve of the + branch, we are encompassed by breathless foliage; even the gloom was hot; + the little insects that are food for fish tried a flight and fell on the + water’s surface, as if panting. Here and there, a sullen fish consented to + take them, and a circle spread, telling of past excitement. + </p> + <p> + I had listened to the vicar’s Homeric lowing for the space of a minute or + so—what some one has called, the great beast-like, bellow-like, roar + and roll of the Iliad hexameter: it stopped like a cut cord. One of the + numerous daughters of his house appeared in the arch of white + cluster-roses on the lower garden-terrace, and with an exclamation, stood + petrified at the extraordinary spectacle, and then she laughed outright. I + had hitherto resisted, but the young lady’s frank and boisterous laughter + carried me along, and I too let loose a peal, and discovered myself. The + vicar, seeing me, acknowledged a consciousness of his absurd position with + a laugh as loud. As for the scapegrace girl, she went off into a run of + high-pitched shriekings like twenty woodpeckers, crying: I Mama, mama, you + look as if you were in Jordan!’ + </p> + <p> + The vicar cleared his throat admonishingly, for it was apparent that Miss + Alice was giving offence to her mother, and I presume he thought it was + enough for one of the family to have done so. + </p> + <p> + ‘Wilt thou come out of Jordan?’ I cried. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sufficiently baptized with the water,’ said the helpless man... + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed, Mr. Amble,’ observed his spouse, ‘you can lecture a woman for not + making the best of circumstances; I hope you’ll bear in mind that it’s you + who are irreverent. I can endure this no longer. You deserve Mr. + Pollingray’s ridicule.’ + </p> + <p> + Upon this, I interposed: ‘Pray, ma’am, don’t imagine that you have + anything but sympathy from me.’—but as I was protesting, having my + mouth open, the terrible Miss Alice dragged the laughter remorselessly out + of me. + </p> + <p> + They have been trying Frank’s new boat, Mr. Pollingray, and they’ve upset + it. Oh! oh’ and again there was the woodpeckers’ chorus. + </p> + <p> + ‘Alice, I desire you instantly to go and fetch John the gardener,’ said + the angry mother. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mama, I can’t move; wait a minute, only a minute. John’s gone about the + geraniums. Oh! don’t look so resigned, papa; you’ll kill me! Mama, come + and take my hand. Oh! oh!’ + </p> + <p> + The young lady put her hands in against her waist and rolled her body like + a possessed one. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why don’t you come in through the boat-house?’ she asked when she had + mastered her fit. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ said the vicar. I beheld him struck by this new thought. + </p> + <p> + ‘How utterly absurd you are, Mr. Amble!’ exclaimed his wife, ‘when you + know that the boat-house is locked, and that the boat was lying under the + camshot when you persuaded me to step into it.’ + </p> + <p> + Hearing this explanation of the accident, Alice gave way to an + ungovernable emotion. + </p> + <p> + ‘You see, my dear,’ the vicar addressed his wife, she can do nothing; it’s + useless. If ever patience is counselled to us, it is when accidents befall + us, for then, as we are not responsible, we know we are in other hands, + and it is our duty to be comparatively passive. Perhaps I may say that in + every difficulty, patience is a life-belt. I beg of you to be patient + still.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr. Amble, I shall think you foolish,’ said the spouse, with a nod of + more than emphasis. + </p> + <p> + My dear, you have only to decide,’ was the meek reply. + </p> + <p> + By this time, Miss Alice had so far conquered the fiend of laughter that + she could venture to summon her mother close up to the bank and extend a + rescuing hand. Mrs. Amble waded to within reach, her husband following. + Arrangements were made for Alice to pull, and the vicar to push; both in + accordance with Mrs. Amble’s stipulations, for even in her extremity of + helplessness she affected rule and sovereignty. Unhappily, at the decisive + moment, I chanced (and I admit it was more than an inadvertence on my + part, it was a most ill-considered thing to do) I chanced, I say, to call + out—and that I refrained from quoting Voltaire is something in my + favour: + </p> + <p> + ‘How on earth did you manage to tumble in?’ + </p> + <p> + There can be no contest of opinion that I might have kept my curiosity + waiting, and possibly it may be said with some justification that I was + the direct cause of my friend’s unparalleled behaviour; but could a mortal + man guess that in the very act of assisting his wife’s return to dry land, + and while she was—if I may put it so—modestly in his hands, he + would turn about with a quotation that compared him to old Palinurus, all + the while allowing his worthy and admirable burden to sink lower and + dispread in excess upon the surface of the water, until the vantage of her + daughter’s help was lost to her; I beheld the consequences of my + indiscretion, dismayed. I would have checked the preposterous Virgilian, + but in contempt of my uplifted hand and averted head, and regardless of + the fact that his wife was then literally dependent upon him, the vicar + declaimed (and the drenching effect produced by Latin upon a lady at such + a season, may be thought on): + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Vix primos inopina quies laxaverat artus, + Et super incumbens, cum puppis parte revulsa + Cumque gubernaclo liquidas projecit in undas.’ +</pre> + <p> + It is not easy when you are unacquainted with the language, to retort upon + Latin, even when the attempt to do so is made in English. Very few even of + the uneducated ears can tolerate such anti-climax vituperative as English + after sounding Latin. Mrs. Amble kept down those sentiments which her + vernacular might have expressed. I heard but one groan that came from her + as she lay huddled indistinguishably in the arms of her husband. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not—praecipitem! I am happy to say,’ my senseless friend remarked + further, and laughed cheerfully as he fortified his statement with a run + of negatives. ‘No, no’; in a way peculiar to him. ‘No, no. If I plant my + grey hairs anywhere, it will be on dry land: no. But, now, my dear; he + returned to his duty; why, you’re down again. Come: one, two, and up.’ + </p> + <p> + He was raising a dead weight. The passion for sarcastic speech was + manifestly at war with common prudence in the bosom of Mrs. Amble; + prudence, however, overcame it. She cast on him a look of a kind that + makes matrimony terrific in the dreams of bachelors, and then wedding her + energy to the assistance given she made one of those senseless springs of + the upper half of the body, which strike the philosophic eye with the + futility of an effort that does not arise from a solid basis. Owing to the + want of concert between them, the vicar’s impulsive strength was expended + when his wife’s came into play. Alice clutched her mother bravely. The + vicar had force enough to stay his wife’s descent; but Alice (she boasts + of her muscle) had not the force in the other direction—and no + wonder. There are few young ladies who could pull fourteen stone sheer up + a camshot. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Amble remained in suspense between the two. + </p> + <p> + Oh, Mr. Pollingray, if you were only on this side to help us,’ Miss Alice + exclaimed very piteously, though I could see that she was half mad with + the internal struggle of laughter at the parents and concern for them. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, pull, Alice,’ shouted the vicar. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, not yet,’ screamed Mrs. Amble; I’m sinking.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Pull, Alice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, Mama.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Push, Papa.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m down.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Up, Ma’am; Jane; woman, up.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Gently, Papa: Abraham, I will not.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, but you must.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And that man opposite.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What, Pollingray? He’s fifty.’ + </p> + <p> + I found myself walking indignantly down the path. Even now I protest my + friend was guilty of bad manners, though I make every allowance for him; I + excuse, I pass the order; but why—what justifies one man’s bawling + out another man’s age? What purpose does it serve? I suppose the vicar + wished to reassure his wife, on the principle (I have heard him enunciate + it) that the sexes are merged at fifty—by which he means, I must + presume, that something which may be good or bad, and is generally silly—of + course, I admire and respect modesty and pudeur as much as any man—something + has gone: a recognition of the bounds of division. There is, if that is a + lamentable matter, a loss of certain of our young tricks at fifty. We have + ceased to blush readily: and let me ask you to define a blush. Is it an + involuntary truth or an ingenuous lie? I know that this will sound like + the language of a man not a little jealous of his youthful compeers. I can + but leave it to rightly judging persons to consider whether a healthy man + in his prime, who has enough, and is not cursed by ambition, need be + jealous of any living soul. + </p> + <p> + A shriek from Miss Alice checked my retreating steps. The vicar was + staggering to support the breathing half of his partner while she regained + her footing in the bed of the river. Their effort to scale the camshot had + failed. Happily at this moment I caught sight of Master Frank’s boat, + which had floated, bottom upwards, against a projecting mud-bank of + forget-me-nots. I contrived to reach it and right it, and having secured + one of the sculls, I pulled up to the rescue; though not before I had + plucked a flower, actuated by a motive that I cannot account for. The + vicar held the boat firmly against the camshot, while I, at the imminent + risk of joining them (I shall not forget the combined expression of Miss + Alice’s retreating eyes and the malicious corners of her mouth) hoisted + the lady in, and the river with her. From the seat of the boat she stood + sufficiently high to project the step towards land without peril. When she + had set her foot there, we all assumed an attitude of respectful + attention, and the vicar, who could soar over calamity like a fairweather + swallow, acknowledged the return of his wife to the element with a series + of apologetic yesses and short coughings. + </p> + <p> + ‘That would furnish a good concert for the poets,’ he remarked. ‘A + parting, a separation of lovers; “even as a body from the watertorn,” or + “from the water plucked”; eh? do you think—“so I weep round her, + tearful in her track,” an excellent—’ + </p> + <p> + But the outraged woman, dripping in grievous discomfort above him, made a + peremptory gesture. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr. Amble, will you come on shore instantly, I have borne with your + stupidity long enough. I insist upon your remembering, sir, that you have + a family dependent upon you. Other men may commit these follies.’ + </p> + <p> + This was a blow at myself, a bachelor whom the lady had never persuaded to + dream of relinquishing his freedom. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear, I am coming,’ said the vicar. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then, come at once, or I shall think you idiotic,’ the wife retorted. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have been endeavouring,’ the vicar now addressed me, ‘to prove by a + practical demonstration that women are capable of as much philosophy as + men, under any sudden and afflicting revolution of circumstances.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And if you get a sunstroke, you will be rightly punished, and I shall not + be sorry, Mr. Amble.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am coming, my dear Jane. Pray run into the house and change your + things.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not till I see you out of the water, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are losing your temper, my love.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You would make a saint lose his temper, Mr. Amble.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There were female saints, my dear,’ the vicar mildly responded; and + addressed me further: ‘Up to this point, I assure you, Pollingray, no + conduct could have been more exemplary than Mrs. Amble’s. I had got her + into the boat—a good boat, a capital boat—but getting in + myself, we overturned. The first impulse of an ordinary woman would have + been to reproach and scold; but Mrs. Amble succumbed only to the first + impulse. Discovering that all effort unaided to climb the bank was + fruitless, she agreed to wait patiently and make the best of + circumstances; and she did; and she learnt to enjoy it. There is marrow in + every bone. My dear. Jane, I have never admired you so much. I tried her, + Pollingray, in metaphysics. I talked to her of the opera we last heard, I + think fifty years ago. And as it is less endurable for a woman to be + patient in tribulation—the honour is greater, when she overcomes the + fleshy trial. Insomuch,’ the vicar put on a bland air of abnegation of + honour, ‘that I am disposed to consider any male philosopher our superior; + when you’ve found one, ha, ha—when you’ve found one. O sol pulcher! + I am ready to sing that the day has been glorious, so far. Pulcher ille + dies.’ + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Amble appealed to me. ‘Would anybody not swear that he is mad to see + him standing waist-deep in the water and the sun on his bald head, I am + reduced to entreat you not to—though you have no family of your own—not + to encourage him. It is amusing to you. Pray, reflect that such folly is + too often fatal. Compel him to come on shore.’ + </p> + <p> + The logic of the appeal was no doubt distinctly visible in the lady’s + mind, though it was not accurately worded. I saw that I stood marked to be + the scape goat of the day, and humbly continued to deserve well, + notwithstanding. By dint of simple signs and nods of affirmative, and a + constant propulsion of my friend’s arm, I drew him into the boat, and + thence projected him up to the level with his wife, who had perhaps + deigned to understand that it was best to avoid the arresting of his + divergent mind by any remark during the passage, and remained silent. No + sooner was he established on his feet, than she plucked him away. + </p> + <p> + ‘Your papa’s hat,’ she called, flashing to her daughter, and streamed up + the lawn into the rose-trellised pathways leading on aloft to the vicarage + house. Behind roses the weeping couple disappeared. The last I saw of my + friend was a smiting of his hand upon his head in a vain effort to catch + at one of the fleeting ideas sowed in him by the quick passage of objects + before his vision, and shaken out of him by abnormal hurry. The Rev. + Abraham Amble had been lord of his wife in the water, but his innings was + over. He had evidently enjoyed it vastly, and I now understood why he had + chosen to prolong it as much as possible. Your eccentric characters are + not uncommonly amateurs of petty artifice. There are hours of vengeance + even for henpecked men. + </p> + <p> + I found myself sighing over the enslaved condition of every Benedict of my + acquaintance, when the thought came like a surprise that I was alone with + Alice. The fair and pleasant damsel made a clever descent into the boat, + and having seated herself, she began to twirl the scull in the rowlock, + and said: ‘Do you feel disposed to join me in looking after the other + scull and papa’s hat, Mr. Pollingray?’ I suggested ‘Will you not get your + feet wet? I couldn’t manage to empty all the water in the boat.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh’ cried she, with a toss of her head; I wet feet never hurt young + people.’ + </p> + <p> + There was matter for an admonitory lecture in this. Let me confess I was + about to give it, when she added: But Mr. Pollingray, I am really afraid + that your feet are wet! You had to step into the water when you righted + the boat: + </p> + <p> + My reply was to jump down by her side with as much agility as I could + combine with a proper discretion. The amateur craft rocked threateningly, + and I found myself grasped by and grasping the pretty damsel, until by + great good luck we were steadied and preserved from the same misfortune + which had befallen her parents. She laughed and blushed, and we tottered + asunder. + </p> + <p> + ‘Would you have talked metaphysics to me in the water, Mr. Pollingray?’ + </p> + <p> + Alice was here guilty of one of those naughty sort of innocent speeches + smacking of Eve most strongly; though, of course, of Eve in her best days. + </p> + <p> + I took the rudder lines to steer against the sculling of her single scull, + and was Adam enough to respond to temptation: ‘I should perhaps have been + grateful to your charitable construction of it as being metaphysics.’ + </p> + <p> + She laughed colloquially, to fill a pause. It had not been coquetry: + merely the woman unconsciously at play. A man is bound to remember the + seniority of his years when this occurs, for a veteran of ninety and a + worn out young debauchee will equally be subject to it if they do not shun + the society of the sex. My long robust health and perfect self-reliance + apparently tend to give me unguarded moments, or lay me open to fitful + impressions. Indeed there are times when I fear I have the heart of a boy, + and certainly nothing more calamitous can be conceived, supposing that it + should ever for one instant get complete mastery of my head. This is the + peril of a man who has lived soberly. Do we never know when we are safe? I + am, in reflecting thereupon, positively prepared to say that if there is + no fool like what they call an old fool (and a man in his prime, who can + be laughed at, is the world’s old fool) there is wisdom in the wild oats + theory, and I shall come round to my nephew’s way of thinking: that is, as + far as Master Charles by his acting represents his thinking. I shall at + all events be more lenient in my judgement of him, and less stern in my + allocutions, for I shall have no text to preach from. + </p> + <p> + We picked up the hat and the scull in one of the little muddy bays of our + brown river, forming an amphitheatre for water-rats and draped with great + dockleaves, nettle-flowers, ragged robins, and other weeds for which the + learned young lady gave the botanical names. It was pleasant to hear her + speak with the full authority of absolute knowledge of her subject. She + has intelligence. She is decidedly too good for Charles, unless he changes + his method of living. + </p> + <p> + ‘Shall we row on?’ she asked, settling her arms to work the pair of + sculls. + </p> + <p> + ‘You have me in your power,’ said I, and she struck out. Her shape is + exceedingly graceful; I was charmed by the occasional tightening in of her + lips as she exerted her muscle, while at intervals telling me of her race + with one of her boastful younger brothers, whom she had beaten. I believe + it is only when they are using physical exertion that the eyes of young + girls have entire simplicity—the simplicity of nature as opposed to + that other artificial simplicity which they learn from their governesses, + their mothers, and the admiration of witlings. Attractive purity, or the + nice glaze of no comprehension of anything which is considered to be + improper in a wicked world, and is no doubt very useful, is not to my + taste. French girls, as a rule, cannot compete with our English in the + purer graces. They are only incomparable when as women they have resort to + art. + </p> + <p> + Alice could look at me as she rowed, without thinking it necessary to + force a smile, or to speak, or to snigger and be foolish. I felt towards + the girl like a comrade. + </p> + <p> + We went no further than Hatchard’s mile, where the water plumps the poor + sleepy river from a sidestream, and, as it turned the boat’s head quite + round, I let the boat go. These studies of young women are very well as a + pastime; but they soon cease to be a recreation. She forms an agreeable + picture when she is rowing, and possesses a musical laugh. Now and then + she gives way to the bad trick of laughing without caring or daring to + explain the cause for it. She is moderately well-bred. I hope that she has + principle. Certain things a man of my time of life learns by associating + with very young people which are serviceable to him. What a different + matter this earth must be to that girl from what it is to me! I knew it + before. And—mark the difference—I feel it now. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + SHE + </h3> + <p> + Papa never will cease to meet with accidents and adventures. If he only + walks out to sit for half an hour with one of his old dames, as he calls + them, something is sure to happen to him, and it is almost as sure that + Mr. Pollingray will be passing at the time and mixed up in it. + </p> + <p> + Since Mr. Pollingray’s return from his last residence on the Continent, I + have learnt to know him and like him. Charles is unjust to his uncle. He + is not at all the grave kind of man I expected from Charles’s description. + He is extremely entertaining, and then he understands the world, and I + like to hear him talk, he is so unpretentious and uses just the right + words. No one would imagine his age, from his appearance, and he has more + fun than any young man I have listened to. + </p> + <p> + But, I am convinced I have discovered his weakness. It is my fatal. + peculiarity that I cannot be with people ten minutes without seeing some + point about them where they are tenderest. Mr. Pollingray wants to be + thought quite youthful. He can bear any amount of fatigue; he is always + fresh and a delightful companion; but you cannot get him to show even a + shadow of exhaustion or to admit that he ever knew what it was to lie down + beaten. This is really to pretend that he is superhuman. I like him so + much that I could wish him superior to such—it is nothing other than—vanity. + Which is worse? A young man giving himself the air of a sage, or—but + no one can call Mr. Pollingray an old man. He is a confirmed bachelor. + That puts the case. Charles, when he says of him that he is a ‘gentleman + in a good state of preservation,’ means to be ironical. I doubt whether + Charles at fifty would object to have the same said of Mr. Charles + Everett. Mr. Pollingray has always looked to his health. He has not been + disappointed. I am sure he was always very good. But, whatever he was, he + is now very pleasant, and he does not talk to women as if he thought them + singular, and feel timid, I mean, confused, as some men show that they + feel—the good ones. Perhaps he felt so once, and that is why he is + still free. Charles’s dread that his uncle will marry is most unworthy. He + never will, but why should he not? Mama declares that he is waiting for a + woman of intellect, I can hear her: ‘Depend upon it, a woman of intellect + will marry Dayton Manor.’ Should that mighty event not come to pass, poor + Charles will have to sink the name of Everett in that of Pollingray. Mr. + Pollingray’s name is the worst thing about him. When I think of his name I + see him ten times older than he is. My feelings are in harmony with his + pedigree concerning the age of the name. One would have to be a woman of + profound intellect to see the advantage of sharing it. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mrs. Pollingray!’ She must be a lady with a wig. + </p> + <p> + It was when we were rowing up by Hatchard’s mill that I first perceived + his weakness, he was looking at me so kindly, and speaking of his + friendship for papa, and how glad he was to be fixed at last, near to us + at Dayton. I wished to use some term of endearment in reply, and said, I + remember, ‘Yes, and we are also glad, Godpapa.’ I was astonished that he + should look so disconcerted, and went on: ‘Have you forgotten that you are + my godpapa?’ + </p> + <p> + He answered: ‘Am I? Oh! yes—the name of Alice.’ + </p> + <p> + Still he looked uncertain, uncomfortable, and I said, ‘Do you want to + cancel the past, and cast me off?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, certainly not’; he, I suppose, thought he was assuring me. + </p> + <p> + I saw his lips move at the words I cancel the past,’ though he did not + speak them out. He positively blushed. I know the sort of young man he + must have been. Exactly the sort of young man mama would like for a + son-in-law, and her daughters would accept in pure obedience when reduced + to be capable of the virtue by rigorous diet, or consumption. + </p> + <p> + He let the boat go round instantly. This was enough for me. It struck me + then that when papa had said to mama (as he did in that absurd situation) + ‘He is fifty,’ Mr. Pollingray must have heard it across the river, for he + walked away hurriedly. He came back, it is true, with the boat, but I have + my own ideas. He is always ready to do a service, but on this occasion I + think it was an afterthought. I shall not venture to call him ‘Godpapa’ + again. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, if I have a desire, it is that I may be blind to people’s + weakness. My insight is inveterate. Papa says he has heard Mr. Pollingray + boast of his age. If so, there has come a change over him. I cannot be + deceived. I see it constantly. After my unfortunate speech, Mr. Pollingray + shunned our house for two whole weeks, and scarcely bowed to us when + coming out of church. Miss Pollingray idolises him—spoils him. She + says that he is worth twenty of Charles. Nous savons ce que nous savons, + nous autres. Charles is wild, but Charles would be above these + littlenesses. How could Miss Pollingray comprehend the romance of + Charles’s nature? + </p> + <p> + My sister Evelina is now Mr. Pollingray’s favourite. She could not say + Godpapa to him, if she would. Persons who are very much petted at home, + are always establishing favourites abroad. For my part, let them praise me + or not, I know that I can do any thing I set my mind upon. At present I + choose to be frivolous. I know I am frivolous. What then? If there is fun + in the world am I not to laugh at it? I shall astonish them by and by. + But, I will laugh while I can. I am sure, there is so much misery in the + world, it is a mercy to be able to laugh. Mr. Pollingray may think what he + likes of me. When Charles tells me that I must do my utmost to propitiate + his uncle, he cannot mean that I am to refrain from laughing, because that + is being a hypocrite, which I may become when I have gone through all the + potential moods and not before. + </p> + <p> + It is preposterous to suppose that I am to be tied down to the views of + life of elderly people. + </p> + <p> + I dare say I did laugh a little too much the other night, but could I help + it? We had a dinner party. Present were Mr. Pollingray, Mrs. Kershaw, the + Wilbury people (three), Charles, my brother Duncan, Evelina, mama, papa, + myself, and Mr. and Mrs. (put them last for emphasis) Romer Pattlecombe, + Mrs. Pattlecombe (the same number of syllables as Pollingray, and a ‘P’ to + begin with) is thirty-one years her husband’s junior, and she is + twenty-six; full of fun, and always making fun of him, the mildest, + kindest, goody old thing, who has never distressed himself for anything + and never will. Mrs. Romer not only makes fun, but is fun. When you have + done laughing with her, you can laugh at her. She is the salt of society + in these parts. Some one, as we were sitting on the lawn after dinner, + alluded to the mishap to papa and mama, and mama, who has never forgiven + Mr. Pollingray for having seen her in her ridiculous plight, said that men + were in her opinion greater gossips than women. ‘That is indisputable, + ma’am,’ said Mr. Pollingray, he loves to bewilder her; ‘only, we never + mention it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There is an excuse for us,’ said Mrs. Romer; ‘our trials are so great, we + require a diversion, and so we talk of others.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now really,’ said Charles, ‘I don’t think your trials are equal to ours.’ + </p> + <p> + For which remark papa bantered him, and his uncle was sharp on him; and + Charles, I know, spoke half seriously, though he was seeking to draw Mrs. + Romer out: he has troubles. + </p> + <p> + From this, we fell upon a comparison of sufferings, and Mrs. Romer took up + the word. She is a fair, smallish, nervous woman, with delicate hands and + outlines, exceedingly sympathetic; so much so that while you are telling + her anything, she makes half a face in anticipation, and is ready to + shriek with laughter or shake her head with uttermost grief; and + sometimes, if you let her go too far in one direction, she does both. All + her narrations are with ups and downs of her hands, her eyes, her chin, + and her voice. Taking poor, good old Mr. Romer by the roll of his coat, + she made as if posing him, and said: ‘There! Now, it’s all very well for + you to say that there is anything equal to a woman’s sufferings in this + world. I do declare you know nothing of what we unhappy women have to + endure. It’s dreadful! No male creature can possibly know what tortures I + have to undergo.’ + </p> + <p> + Mama neatly contrived, after interrupting her, to divert the subject. I + think that all the ladies imagined they were in jeopardy, but I knew Mrs. + Romer was perfectly to be trusted. She has wit which pleases, jusqu’aux + ongles, and her sense of humour never overrides her discretion with more + than a glance—never with preparation. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now,’ she pursued, ‘let me tell you what excruciating trials I have to go + through. This man,’ she rocked the patient old gentleman to and fro, ‘this + man will be the death of me. He is utterly devoid of a sense of propriety. + Again and again I say to him—cannot the tailor cut down these + trowsers of yours? Yes, Mr. Amble, you preach patience to women, but this + is too much for any woman’s endurance. Now, do attempt to picture to + yourself what an agony it must be to me:—he will shave, and he will + wear those enormously high trowsers that, when they are braced, reach up + behind to the nape of his neck! Only yesterday morning, as I was lying in + bed, I could see him in his dressing-room. I tell you: he will shave, and + he will choose the time for shaving early after he has braced these + immensely high trowsers that make such a placard of him. Oh, my goodness! + My dear Romer, I have said to him fifty times if I have said it once, my + goodness me! why can you not get decent trowsers such as other men wear? + He has but one answer—he has been accustomed to wear those trowsers, + and he would not feel at home in another pair. And what does he say if I + continue to complain? and I cannot but continue to complain, for it is not + only moral, it is physical torment to see the sight he makes of himself; + he says: “My dear, you should not have married an old man.” What! I say to + him, must an old man wear antiquated trowsers? No! nothing will turn him; + those are his habits. But, you have not heard the worst. The sight of + those hideous trowsers totally destroying all shape in the man, is + horrible enough; but it is absolutely more than a woman can bear to see + him—for he will shave—first cover his face with white soap + with that ridiculous centre-piece to his trowsers reaching quite up to his + poll, and then, you can fancy a woman’s rage and anguish! the figure lifts + its nose by the extremist tip. Oh! it’s degradation! What respect can a + woman have for her husband after that sight? Imagine it! And I have + implored him to spare me. It’s useless. You sneer at our hbops and say + that you are inconvenienced by them but you gentlemen are not degraded,—Oh! + unutterably!—as I am every morning of my life by that cruel + spectacle of a husband.’ + </p> + <p> + I have but faintly sketched Mrs. Romer’s style. Evelina, who is prudish + and thinks her vulgar, refused to laugh, but it came upon me, as the + picture of ‘your own old husband,’ with so irresistibly comic an effect + that I was overcome by convulsions of laughter. I do not defend myself. It + was as much a fit as any other attack. I did all I could to arrest it. At + last, I ran indoors and upstairs to my bedroom and tried hard to become + dispossessed. I am sure I was an example of the sufferings of my sex. It + could hardly have been worse for Mrs. Romer than it was for me. I was + drowned in internal laughter long after I had got a grave face. Early in + the evening Mr. Pollingray left us. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + HE + </h3> + <p> + I am carried by the fascination of a musical laugh. Apparently I am doomed + to hear it at my own expense. We are secure from nothing in this life. + </p> + <p> + I have determined to stand for the county. An unoccupied man is a prey to + every hook of folly. Be dilettante all your days, and you might as fairly + hope to reap a moral harvest as if you had chased butterflies. The + activities created by a profession or determined pursuit are necessary to + the growth of the mind. + </p> + <p> + Heavens! I find myself writing like an illegitimate son of La + Rochefoucauld, or of Vauvenargues. But, it is true that I am fifty years + old, and I am not mature. I am undeveloped somewhere. + </p> + <p> + The question for me to consider is, whether this development is to be + accomplished by my being guilty of an act of egregious folly. + </p> + <p> + Dans la cinquantaine! The reflection should produce a gravity in men. Such + a number of years will not ring like bridal bells in a man’s ears. I have + my books about me, my horses, my dogs, a contented household. I move in + the centre of a perfect machine, and I am dissatisfied. I rise early. I do + not digest badly. What is wrong? + </p> + <p> + The calamity of my case is that I am in danger of betraying what is wrong + with me to others, without knowing it myself. Some woman will be + suspecting and tattling, because she has nothing else to do. Girls have + wonderfully shrewd eyes for a weakness in the sex which they are + instructed to look upon as superior. But I am on my guard. + </p> + <p> + The fact is manifest: I feel I have been living more or less uselessly. It + is a fat time. There are a certain set of men in every prosperous country + who, having wherewithal, and not being compelled to toil, become subjected + to the moral ideal. Most of them in the end sit down with our sixth Henry + or second Richard and philosophise on shepherds. To be no better than a + simple hind! Am I better? Prime bacon and an occasional draft of shrewd + beer content him, and they do not me. Yet I am sound, and can sit through + the night and be ready, and on the morrow I shall stand for the county. + </p> + <p> + I made the announcement that I had thoughts of entering Parliament, before + I had half formed the determination, at my sister’s lawn party yesterday. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gilbert!’ she cried, and raised her hands. A woman is hurt if you do not + confide to her your plans as soon as you can conceive them. She must be + present to assist at the birth, or your plans are unblessed plans. + </p> + <p> + I had been speaking aside in a casual manner to my friend Amble, whose + idea is that the Church is not represented with sufficient strength in the + Commons, and who at once, as I perceived, grasped the notion of getting me + to promote sundry measures connected with schools and clerical stipends, + for his eyes dilated; he said: ‘Well, if you do, I can put you up to + several things,’ and imparting the usual chorus of yesses to his own mind, + he continued absently: ‘Pollingray might be made strong on church rates. + There is much to do. He has lived abroad and requires schooling in these + things. We want a man. Yes, yes, yes. It’s a good idea; a notion.’ + </p> + <p> + My sister, however, was of another opinion. She did me the honour to take + me aside. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gilbert, were you serious just now?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Quite serious. Is it not my characteristic?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not on these occasions. I saw the idea come suddenly upon you. You were + looking at Charles.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Continue: and at what was he looking?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He was looking at Alice Amble.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And the young lady?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She looked at you.’ + </p> + <p> + I was here attacked by a singularly pertinacious fly, and came out of the + contest with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + ‘Did she have that condescension towards me? And from the glance, my + resolution to enter Parliament was born? It is the French vaudevilliste’s + doctrine of great events from little causes. The slipper of a soubrette + trips the heart of a king and changes the destiny of a nation-the history + of mankind. It may be true. If I were but shot into the House from a + little girl’s eye!’ + </p> + <p> + With this I took her arm gaily, walked with her, and had nearly + overreached myself with excess of cunning. I suppose we are reduced to see + more plainly that which we systematically endeavour to veil from others. + It is best to flutter a handkerchief, instead of nailing up a curtain. The + principal advantage is that you may thereby go on deceiving yourself, for + this reason: few sentiments are wholly matter of fact; but when they are + half so, you make them concrete by deliberately seeking either to crush or + conceal them, and you are doubly betrayed—betrayed to the besieging + eye and to yourself. When a sentiment has grown to be a passion + (mercifully may I be spared!) different tactics are required. By that + time, you will have already betrayed yourself too deeply to dare to be + flippant: the investigating eye is aware that it has been purposely + diverted: knowing some things, it makes sure of the rest from which you + turn it away. If you want to hide a very grave case, you must speak + gravely about it.—At which season, be but sure of your voice, and + simulate a certain depth of sentimental philosophy, and you may once more, + and for a long period, bewilder the investigator of the secrets of your + bosom. To sum up: in the preliminary stages of a weakness, be careful that + you do not show your own alarm, or all will be suspected. Should the + weakness turn to fever, let a little of it be seen, like a careless man, + and nothing will really be thought. + </p> + <p> + I can say this, I can do this; and is it still possible that a pin’s point + has got through the joints of the armour of a man like me? + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth quitted my side with the conviction that I am as considerate an + uncle as I am an affectionate brother. + </p> + <p> + I said to her, apropos, ‘I have been observing those two. It seems to me + they are deciding things for themselves.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have been going to speak to you about them Gilbert,’ said she. + </p> + <p> + And I: ‘The girl must be studied. The family is good. While Charles is in + Wales, you must have her at Dayton. She laughs rather vacantly, don’t you + think? but the sound of it has the proper wholesome ring. I will give her + what attention I can while she is here, but in the meantime I must have a + bride of my own and commence courting.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Parliament, you mean,’ said Elizabeth with a frank and tender smile. The + hostess was summoned to welcome a new guest, and she left me, pleased with + her successful effort to reach my meaning, and absorbed by it. + </p> + <p> + I would not have challenged Machiavelli; but I should not have encountered + the Florentine ruefully. I feel the same keen delight in intellectual + dexterity. On some points my sister is not a bad match for me. She can + beat me seven games out of twelve at chess; but the five I win sequently, + for then I am awake. There is natural art and artificial art, and the last + beats the first. Fortunately for us, women are strangers to the last. They + have had to throw off a mask before they have, got the schooling; so, when + they are thus armed we know what we meet, and what are the weapons to be + used. + </p> + <p> + Alice, if she is a fine fencer at all, will expect to meet the ordinary + English squire in me. I have seen her at the baptismal font! It is + inconceivable. She will fancy that at least she is ten times more subtle + than I. When I get the mastery—it is unlikely to make me the master. + What may happen is, that the nature of the girl will declare itself, under + the hard light of intimacy, vulgar. Charles I cause to be absent for six + weeks; so there will be time enough for the probation. I do not see him + till he returns. If by chance I had come earlier to see him and he to + allude to her, he would have had my conscience on his side, and that is + what a scrupulous man takes care to prevent. + </p> + <p> + I wonder whether my friends imagine me to be the same man whom they knew + as Gilbert Pollingray a month back? I see the change, I feel the change; + but I have no retrospection, no remorse, no looking forward, no feeling: + none for others, very little, for myself. I am told that I am losing + fluency as a dinner-table talker. There is now more savour to me in a + silvery laugh than in a spiced wit. And this is the man who knows women, + and is far too modest to give a decided opinion upon any of their merits. + Search myself through as I may, I cannot tell when the change began, or + what the change consists of, or what is the matter with me, or what charm + there is in the person who does the mischief. She is the counterpart of + dozens of girls; lively, brown-eyed, brown-haired, underbred—it is + not too harsh to say so—underbred slightly; half-educated, whether + quickwitted I dare not opine. She is undoubtedly the last whom I or + another person would have fixed upon as one to work me this unmitigated + evil. I do not know her, and I believe I do not care to know her, and I am + thirsting for the hour to come when I shall study her. Is not this to have + the poison of a bite in one’s blood? The wrath of Venus is not a fable. I + was a hard reader and I despised the sex in my youth, before the family + estates fell to me; since when I have playfully admired the sex; I have + dallied with a passion, and not read at all, save for diversion: her anger + is not a fable. You may interpret many a mythic tale by the facts which + lie in your own blood. My emotions have lain altogether dormant in + sentimental attachment. I have, I suppose, boasted of, Python slain, and + Cupid has touched me up with an arrow. I trust to my own skill rather than + to his mercy for avoiding a second from his quiver. I will understand this + girl if I have to submit to a close intimacy with her for six months. + There is no doubt of the elegance of her movements. Charles might as well + take his tour, and let us see him again next year. Yes, her movements are + (or will be) gracious. In a year’s time she will have acquired the fuller + tones and poetry of womanliness. Perhaps then, too, her smile will linger + instead of flashing. I have known infinitely lovelier women than she. One + I have known! but let her be. Louise and I have long since said adieu. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + SHE + </h3> + <p> + Behold me installed in Dayton Manor House, and brought here for the + express purpose (so Charles has written me word) of my being studied, that + it may be seen whether I am worthy to be, on some august future occasion—possibly—a + member (Oh, so much to mumble!) of this great family. Had I known it when + I was leaving home, I should have countermanded the cording of my boxes. + If you please, I do the packing, and not the cording. I must practise + being polite, or I shall be horrifying these good people. + </p> + <p> + I am mortally offended. I am very very angry. I shall show temper. Indeed, + I have shown it. Mr. Pollingray must and does think me a goose. Dear sir, + and I think you are justified. If any one pretends to guess how, I have + names to suit that person. I am a ninny, an ape, and mind I call myself + these bad things because I deserve worse. I am flighty, I believe I am + heartless. Charles is away, and I suffer no pangs. The truth is, I fancied + myself so exceedingly penetrating, and it was my vanity looking in a + glass. I saw something that answered to my nods and howd’ye-do’s and—but + I am ashamed, and so penitent I might begin making a collection of + beetles. I cannot lift up my head. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pollingray is such a different man from the one I had imagined! What + that one was, I have now quite forgotten. I remember too clearly what the + wretched guesser was. I have been three weeks at Dayton, and if my sisters + know me when I return to the vicarage, they are not foolish virgins. For + my part, I know that I shall always hate Mrs. Romer Pattlecombe, and that + I am unjust to the good woman, but I do hate her, and I think the stories + shocking, and wonder intensely what it was that I could have found in them + to laugh at. I shall never laugh again for many years. Perhaps, when I am + an old woman, I may. I wish the time had come. All young people seem to me + so helplessly silly. I am one of them for the present, and have no hope + that I can appear to be anything else. The young are a crowd—a shoal + of small fry. Their elders are the select of the world. + </p> + <p> + On the morning of the day when I was to leave home for Dayton, a distance + of eight miles, I looked out of my window while dressing—as early as + halfpast seven—and I saw Mr. Pollingray’s groom on horseback, + leading up and down the walk a darling little, round, plump, black cob + that made my heart leap with an immense bound of longing to be on it and + away across the downs. And then the maid came to my door with a letter: + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr. Pollingray, in return for her considerate good behaviour and saving + of trouble to him officially, begs his goddaughter to accept the + accompanying little animal: height 14 h., age 31 years; hunts, is + sure-footed, and likely to be the best jumper in the county.’ + </p> + <p> + I flew downstairs. I rushed out of the house and up to my treasure, and + kissed his nose and stroked his mane. I could not get my fingers away from + him. Horses are so like the very best and beautifullest of women when you + caress them. They show their pleasure so at being petted. They curve their + necks, and paw, and look proud. They take your flattery like sunshine and + are lovely in it. I kissed my beauty, peering at his black-mottled skin, + which is like Allingborough Heath in the twilight. The smell of his new + saddle and bridle-leather was sweeter than a garden to me. The man handed + me a large riding-whip mounted with silver. I longed to jump up and ride + till midnight. + </p> + <p> + Then mama and papa came out and read the note and looked, at my darling + little cob, and my sisters saw him and kissed me, for they are not envious + girls. The most distressing thing was that we had not a riding-habit in + the family. I was ready to wear any sort. I would have ridden as a guy + rather than not ride at all. But mama gave me a promise that in two days a + riding-habit should be sent on to Dayton, and I had to let my pet be led + back from where he came. I had no life till I was following him. I could + have believed him to be a fairy prince who had charmed me. I called him + Prince Leboo, because he was black and good. I forgive anybody who talks + about first love after what my experience has been with Prince Leboo. + </p> + <p> + What papa thought of the present I do not know, but I know very well what + mama thought: and for my part I thought everything, not distinctly + including that, for I could not suppose such selfishness in one so + generous as Mr. Pollingray. But I came to Dayton in a state of arrogant + pride, that gave assurance if not ease to my manners. I thanked Mr. + Pollingray warmly, but in a way to let him see it was the matter of a + horse between us. ‘You give, I register thanks, and there’s an end.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He thinks me a fool! a fool! + </p> + <p> + ‘My habit,’ I said, ‘comes after me. I hope we shall have some rides + together.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Many,’ replied Mr. Pollingray, and his bow inflated me with ideas of my + condescension. + </p> + <p> + And because Miss Pollingray (Queen Elizabeth he calls her) looked half + sad, I read it—! I do not write what I read it to be. + </p> + <p> + Behold the uttermost fool of all female creation led over the house by Mr. + Pollingray. He showed me the family pictures. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am no judge of pictures, Mr. Pollingray.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You will learn to see the merits of these.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m afraid not, though I were to study them for years.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You may have that opportunity.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! that is more than I can expect.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You will develop intelligence on such subjects by and by.’ + </p> + <p> + A dull sort of distant blow struck me in this remark; but I paid no heed + to it. + </p> + <p> + He led me over the gardens and the grounds. The Great John Methlyn + Pollingray planted those trees, and designed the house, and the + flower-garden still speaks of his task; but he is not my master, and + consequently I could not share his three great-grandsons’ veneration for + him. There are high fir-woods and beech woods, and a long ascending narrow + meadow between them, through which a brook falls in continual cascades. It + is the sort of scene I love, for it has a woodland grandeur and seclusion + that leads, me to think, and makes a better girl of me. But what I said + was: ‘Yes, it is the place of all others to come and settle in for the + evening of one’s days.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You could not take to it now?’ said Mr. Pollingray. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now?’ my expression of face must have been a picture. + </p> + <p> + ‘You feel called upon to decline such a residence in the morning of your + days?’ + </p> + <p> + He persisted in looking at me as he spoke, and I felt like something + withering scarlet. + </p> + <p> + I am convinced he saw through me, while his face was polished brass. My + self-possession returned, for my pride was not to be dispersed + immediately. + </p> + <p> + ‘Please, take me to the stables,’ I entreated; and there I was at home. + There I saw my Prince Leboo, and gave him a thousand caresses.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He knows me already,’ I said. + </p> + <p> + Then he is some degrees in advance of me,’ said Mr. Pollingray. + </p> + <p> + Is not cold dissection of one’s character a cruel proceeding? And I think, + too, that a form of hospitality like this by which I am invited to be + analysed at leisure, is both mean and base. I have been kindly treated and + I am grateful, but I do still say (even though I may have improved under + it) it is unfair. + </p> + <p> + To proceed: the dinner hour arrived. The atmosphere of his own house seems + to favour Mr. Pollingray as certain soils and sites favour others. He + walked into the dining-room between us with his hands behind him, talking + to us both so easily and smoothly cheerfully—naturally and + pleasantly—inimitable by any young man! You hardly feel the change + of room. We were but three at table, but there was no lack of + entertainment. Mr. Pollingray is an admirable host; he talks just enough + himself and helps you to talk. What does comfort me is that it gives him + real pleasure to see a hearty appetite. Young men, I know it for a + certainty, never quite like us to be so human. Ah! which is right? I would + not miss the faith in our nobler essence which Charles has. But, if it + nobler? One who has lived longer in the world ought to know better, and + Mr. Pollingray approves of naturalness in everything. I have now seen + through Charles’s eyes for several months; so implicitly that I am timid + when I dream of trusting to another’s judgement. It is, however, a fact + that I am not quite natural with Charles. + </p> + <p> + Every day Mr. Pollingray puts on evening dress out of deference to his + sister. If young men had these good habits they would gain our respect, + and lose their own self-esteem less early. + </p> + <p> + After dinner I sang. Then Mr. Pollingray read an amusing essay to us, and + retired to his library. Miss Pollingray sat and talked to me of her + brother, and of her nephew—for whom it is that Mr. Pollingray is + beginning to receive company, and is going into society. Charles’s + subsequently received letter explained the ‘receive company.’ I could not + comprehend it at the time. + </p> + <p> + ‘The house has been shut up for years, or rarely inhabited by us for more + than a month in the year. Mr. Pollingray prefers France. All his + associations, I may say his sympathies, are in France. Latterly he seems + to have changed a little; but from Normandy to Touraine and Dauphiny—we + had a triangular home over there. Indeed, we have it still. I am never + certain of my brother.’ + </p> + <p> + While Miss Pollingray was speaking, my eyes were fixed on a Vidal crayon + drawing, faintly coloured with chalks, of a foreign lady—I could + have sworn to her being French—young, quite girlish, I doubt if her + age was more than mine. + </p> + <p> + She is pretty, is she not?’ said Miss Pollingray. + </p> + <p> + She is almost beautiful,’ I exclaimed, and Miss Pollingray, seeing my + curiosity, was kind enough not to keep me in suspense. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is the Marquise de Mazardouin—nee Louise de Riverolles. You + will see other portraits of her in the house. This is the most youthful of + them, if I except one representing a baby, and bearing her initials.’ + </p> + <p> + I remembered having noticed a similarity of feature in some of the + portraits in the different rooms. My longing to look at them again was + like a sudden jet of flame within me. There was no chance of seeing them + till morning; so, promising myself to dream of the face before me, I dozed + through a conversation with my hostess, until I had got the French lady’s + eyes and hair and general outline stamped accurately, as I hoped, on my + mind. I was no sooner on my way to bed than all had faded. The torment of + trying to conjure up that face was inconceivable. I lay, and tossed, and + turned to right and to left, and scattered my sleep; but by and by my + thoughts reverted to Mr. Pollingray, and then like sympathetic ink held to + the heat, I beheld her again; but vividly, as she must have been when she + was sitting to the artist. The hair was naturally crisped, waving thrice + over the forehead and brushed clean from the temples, showing the small + ears, and tied in a knot loosely behind. Her eyebrows were thick and dark, + but soft; flowing eyebrows; far lovelier, to my thinking, than any + pencilled arch. Dark eyes, and full, not prominent. I find little + expression of inward sentiment in very prominent eyes. On the contrary + they seem to have a fish-like dependency of gaze on what is without, and + show fishy depths, if any. For instance, my eyes are rather prominent, and + I am just the little fool—but the French lady is my theme. Madame la + Marquise, your eyes are sweeter to me than celestial. I never saw such + candour and unaffected innocence in eyes before. Accept the compliment of + the pauvre Anglaise. Did you do mischief with them? Did Vidal’s delicate + sketch do justice to you? Your lips and chin and your throat all repose in + such girlish grace, that if ever it is my good fortune to see you, you + will not be aged to me! + </p> + <p> + I slept and dreamed of her. + </p> + <p> + In the morning, I felt certain that she had often said: ‘Mon cher + Gilbert,’ to Mr. Pollingray. Had he ever said: ‘Ma chere Louise?’ He might + have said: ‘Ma bien aimee!’ for it was a face to be loved. + </p> + <p> + My change of feeling towards him dates from that morning. He had + previously seemed to me a man so much older. I perceived in him now a + youthfulness beyond mere vigour of frame. I could not detach him from my + dreams of the night. He insists upon addressing me by the terms of our + ‘official’ relationship, as if he made it a principle of our intercourse. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, and is your godpapa to congratulate you on your having had a quiet + rest?’ was his greeting. + </p> + <p> + I answered stupidly: ‘Oh, yes, thank you,’ and would have given worlds for + the courage to reply in French, but I distrusted my accent. At breakfast, + the opportunity or rather the excuse for an attempt, was offered. His + French valet, Francois, waits on him at breakfast. Mr. Pollingray and his + sister asked for things in the French tongue, and, as if fearing some + breach of civility, Mr. Pollingray asked me if I knew French. + </p> + <p> + Yes, I know it; that is, I understand it,’ I stuttered. Allons, nous + parlerons francais,’ said he. But I shook my head, and remained like a + silly mute. + </p> + <p> + I was induced towards the close of the meal to come out with a few French + words. I was utterly shamefaced. Mr. Pollingray has got the French manner + of protesting that one is all but perfect in one’s speaking. I know how + absurd it must have sounded. But I felt his kindness, and in my heart I + thanked him humbly. I believe now that a residence in France does not + deteriorate an Englishman. Mr. Pollingray, when in his own house, has the + best qualities of the two countries. He is gay, and, yes, while he makes a + study of me, I am making a study of him. Which of us two will know the + other first? He was papa’s college friend—papa’s junior, of course, + and infinitely more papa’s junior now. I observe that weakness in him, I + mean, his clinging to youthfulness, less and less; but I do see it, I + cannot be quite in error. The truth is, I begin to feel that I cannot + venture to mistrust my infallible judgement, or I shall have no confidence + in myself at all. + </p> + <p> + After breakfast, I was handed over to Miss Pollingray, with the intimation + that I should not see him till dinner. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gilbert is anxious to cultivate the society of his English neighbours, + now that he has, as he supposes, really settled among them,’ she remarked + to me. ‘At his time of life, the desire to be useful is almost a malady. + But, he cherishes the poor, and that is more than an occupation, it is a + virtue.’ + </p> + <p> + Her speech has become occasionally French in the construction of the + sentences. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mais oui,’ I said shyly, and being alone with her, I was not rebuffed by + her smile, especially as she encouraged me on. + </p> + <p> + I am, she told me, to see a monde of French people here in September. So, + the story of me is to be completer, or continued in September. I could not + get Miss Pollingray to tell me distinctly whether Madame la Marquise will + be one of the guests. But I know that she is not a widow. In that case, + she has a husband. In that case, what is the story of her relations + towards Mr. Pollingray? There must be some story. He would not surely have + so many portraits of her about the house (and they travel with him + wherever he goes) if she were but a lovely face to him. I cannot + understand it. They were frequent, constant visitors to one another’s + estates in France; always together. Perhaps a man of Mr. Pollingray’s age, + or perhaps M. le Marquis—and here I lose myself. French habits are + so different from ours. One thing I am certain of: no charge can be + brought against my Englishman. I read perfect rectitude in his face. I + would cast anchor by him. He must have had a dreadful unhappiness. + </p> + <p> + Mama kept her promise by sending my riding habit and hat punctually, but I + had run far ahead of all the wishes I had formed when I left home, and I + half feared my ride out with Mr. Pollingray. That was before I had + received Charles’s letter, letting me know the object of my invitation + here. I require at times a morbid pride to keep me up to the work. I + suppose I rode befittingly, for Mr. Pollingray praised my seat on + horseback. I know I can ride, or feel the ‘blast of a horse like my own’—as + he calls it. Yet he never could have had a duller companion. My + conversation was all yes and no, as if it went on a pair of crutches like + a miserable cripple. I was humiliated and vexed. All the while I was + trying to lead up to the French lady, and I could not commence with a + single question. He appears to, have really cancelled the past in every + respect save his calling me his goddaughter. His talk was of the English + poor, and vegetation, and papa’s goodness to his old dames in Ickleworth + parish, and defects in my education acknowledged by me, but not likely to + restore me in my depressed state. The ride was beautiful. We went the + length of a twelve-mile ridge between Ickleworth and Hillford, over high + commons, with immense views on both sides, and through beech-woods, + oakwoods, and furzy dells and downs spotted with juniper and yewtrees—old + picnic haunts of mine, but Mr. Pollingray’s fresh delight in the landscape + made them seem new and strange. Home through the valley. + </p> + <p> + The next day Miss Pollingray joined us, wearing a feutre gris and green + plume, which looked exceedingly odd until you became accustomed to it. Her + hair has decided gray streaks, and that, and the Queen Elizabeth nose, and + the feutre gris!—but she is so kind, I could not even smile in my + heart. It is singular that Mr. Pollingray, who’s but three years her + junior, should look at least twenty years younger—at the very least. + His moustache and beard are of the colour of a corn sheaf, and his blue + eyes shining over them remind me of summer. That describes him. He is + summer, and has not fallen into his autumn yet. Miss Pollingray helped me + to talk a little. She tried to check her brother’s enthusiasm for our + scenery, and extolled the French paysage. He laughed at her, for when they + were in France it was she who used to say, ‘There is nothing here like + England!’ Miss Fool rode between them attentive to the jingling of the + bells in her cap: ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ at anybody’s command, in and out of + season. + </p> + <p> + Thank you, Charles, for your letter! I was beginning to think my + invitation to Dayton inexplicable, when that letter arrived. I cannot but + deem it an unworthy baseness to entrap a girl to study her without a + warning to her. I went up to my room after I had read it, and wrote in + reply till the breakfast-bell rang. I resumed my occupation an hour later, + and wrote till one o’clock. In all, fifteen pages of writing, which I + carefully folded and addressed to Charles; sealed the envelope, stamped + it, and destroyed it. I went to bed. ‘No, I won’t ride out to-day, I have + a headache!’ I repeated this about half-a-dozen times to nobody’s knocking + on the door, and when at last somebody knocked I tried to repeat it once, + but having the message that Mr. Pollingray particularly wished to have my + company in a ride, I rose submissively and cried. This humiliation made my + temper ferocious. Mr. Pollingray observed my face, and put it down in his + notebook. ‘A savage disposition,’ or, no, ‘An untamed little rebel’; for + he has hopes of me. He had the cruelty to say so. + </p> + <p> + ‘What I am, I shall remain,’ said I. + </p> + <p> + He informed me that it was perfectly natural for me to think it; and on my + replying that persons ought to know themselves best: ‘At my age, perhaps,’ + he said, and added, ‘I cannot speak very confidently of my knowledge of + myself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then you make us out to be nothing better than puppets, Mr. Pollingray.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If we have missed an early apprenticeship to the habit of self-command, + ma filleule.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Merci, mon parrain.’ + </p> + <p> + He laughed. My French, I suppose. + </p> + <p> + I determined that, if he wanted to study me, I would help him. + </p> + <p> + ‘I can command myself when I choose, but it is only when I choose.’ + </p> + <p> + This seemed to me quite a reasonable speech, until I found him looking for + something to follow, in explanation, and on coming to sift my meaning, I + saw that it was temper, and getting more angry, continued: + </p> + <p> + ‘The sort of young people who have such wonderful command of themselves + are not the pleasantest.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ he said; ‘they disappoint us. We expect folly from the young.’ + </p> + <p> + I shut my lips. Prince Leboo knew that he must go, and a good gallop + reconciled me to circumstances. Then I was put to jumping little furzes + and ditches, which one cannot pretend to do without a fair appearance of + gaiety; for, while you are running the risk of a tumble, you are compelled + to look cheerful and gay, at least, I am. To fall frowning will never do. + I had no fall. My gallant Leboo made my heart leap with love of him, + though mill-stones were tied to it. I may be vexed when I begin, but I + soon ride out a bad temper. And he is mine! I am certainly inconstant to + Charles, for I think of Leboo fifty times more. Besides, there is no + engagement as yet between Charles and me. I have first to be approved + worthy by Mr. and Miss Pollingray: two pairs of eyes and ears, over which + I see a solemnly downy owl sitting, conning their reports of me. It is a + very unkind ordeal to subject any inexperienced young woman to. It was + harshly conceived and it is being remorselessly executed. I would complain + more loudly—in shrieks—if I could say I was unhappy; but every + night I look out of my window before going to bed and see the long falls + of the infant river through the meadow, and the dark woods seeming to + enclose the house from harm: I dream of the old inhabitant, his ancestors, + and the numbers and numbers of springs when the wildflowers have + flourished in those woods and the nightingales have sung there. And I feel + there will never be a home to me like Dayton. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + HE + </h3> + <p> + For twenty years of my life I have embraced the phantom of the fairest + woman that ever drew breath. I have submitted to her whims, I have + worshipped her feet, I have, I believe, strengthened her principle. I have + done all in my devotion but adopt her religious faith. And I have, as I + trusted some time since, awakened to perceive that those twenty years were + a period of mere sentimental pastime, perfectly useless, fruitless, + unless, as is possible, it has saved me from other follies. But it was a + folly in itself. Can one’s nature be too stedfast? The question whether a + spice of frivolousness may not be a safeguard has often risen before me. + The truth, I must learn to think, is, that my mental power is not the + match for my ideal or sentimental apprehension and native tenacity of + attachment. I have fallen into one of the pits of a well-meaning but idle + man. The world discredits the existence of pure platonism in love. I + myself can barely look back on those twenty years of amatory servility + with a full comprehension of the part I have been playing in them. And yet + I would not willingly forfeit the exalted admiration of Louise for my + constancy: as little willingly as I would have imperilled her purity. I + cling to the past as to something in which I have deserved well, though I + am scarcely satisfied with it. According to our English notions I know my + name. English notions, however, are not to be accepted in all matters, any + more than the flat declaration of a fact will develop it in alt its + bearings. When our English society shall have advanced to a high + civilization, it will be less expansive in denouncing the higher + stupidities. Among us, much of the social judgement of Bodge upon the + relations of men to women is the stereotyped opinion of the land. There is + the dictum here for a man who adores a woman who is possessed by a + husband. If he has long adored her, and known himself to be preferred by + her in innocency of heart; if he has solved the problem of being her + bosom’s lord, without basely seeking to degrade her to being his mistress; + the epithets to characterise him in our vernacular will probably be all + the less flattering. Politically we are the most self-conscious people + upon earth, and socially the frankest animals. The terrorism of our social + laws is eminently serviceable, for without it such frank animals as we are + might run into bad excesses. I judge rather by the abstract evidence than + by the examples our fair matrons give to astounded foreigners when abroad. + </p> + <p> + Louise writes that her husband is paralysed. The Marquis de Mazardouin is + at last tasting of his mortality. I bear in mind the day when he married + her. She says that he has taken to priestly counsel, and, like a woman, + she praises him for that. It is the one thing which I have not done to + please her. She anticipates his decease. Should she be free—what + then? My heart does not beat the faster for the thought. There are twenty + years upon it, and they make a great load. But I have a desire that she + should come over to us. The old folly might rescue me from the new one. + Not that I am any further persecuted by the dread that I am in imminent + danger here. I have established a proper mastery over my young lady. ‘Nous + avons change de role’. Alice is subdued; she laughs feebly, is becoming + conscious—a fact to be regretted, if I desired to check the + creature’s growth. There is vast capacity in the girl. She has plainly not + centred her affections upon Charles, so that a man’s conscience might be + at ease if—if he chose to disregard what is due to decency. But, + why, when I contest it, do I bow to the world’s opinion concerning + disparity of years between husband and wife? I know innumerable cases of + an old husband making a young wife happy. My friend, Dr. Galliot, married + his ward, and he had the best wife of any man of my acquaintance. She has + been publishing his learned manuscripts ever since his death. That is an + extreme case, for he was forty-five years her senior, and stood bald at + the altar. Old General Althorpe married Julia Dahoop, and, but for his + preposterous jealousy of her, might be cited in proof that the ordinary + reckonings are not to be a yoke on the neck of one who earnestly seeks to + spouse a fitting mate, though late in life. But, what are fifty years? + They mark the prime of a healthy man’s existence. He has by that time seen + the world, can decide, and settle, and is virtually more eligible—to + use the cant phrase of gossips—than a young man, even for a young + girl. And may not some fair and fresh reward be justly claimed as the + crown of a virtuous career? + </p> + <p> + I say all this, yet my real feeling is as if I were bald as Dr. Galliot + and jealous as General Althorpe. For, with my thorough knowledge of + myself, I, were I like either one of them, should not have offered myself + to the mercy of a young woman, or of the world. Nor, as I am and know + myself to be, would I offer myself to the mercy of Alice Amble. When my + filleule first drove into Dayton she had some singularly audacious ideas + of her own. Those vivid young feminine perceptions and untamed + imaginations are desperate things to encounter. There is nothing beyond + their reach. Our safety from them lies in the fact that they are always + seeing too much, and imagining too wildly; so that, with a little help + from us, they may be taught to distrust themselves; and when they have + once distrusted themselves, we need not afterwards fear them: their + supernatural vitality has vanished. I fancy my pretty Alice to be in this + state now. She leaves us to-morrow. In the autumn we shall have her with + us again, and Louise will scan her compassionately. I desire that they + should meet. It will be hardly fair to the English girl, but, if I stand + in the gap between them, I shall summon up no small quantity of dormant + compatriotic feeling. The contemplation of the contrast, too, may save me + from both: like the logic ass with the two trusses of hay on either side + of him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + SHE + </h3> + <p> + I am at home. There was never anybody who felt so strange in her home. It + is not a month since I left my sisters, and I hardly remember that I know + them. They all, and even papa, appear to be thinking about such petty + things. They complain that I tell them nothing. What have I to tell? My + Prince! my own Leboo, if I might lie in the stall with you, then I should + feel thoroughly happy! That is, if I could fall asleep. Evelina declares + we are not eight miles from Dayton. It seems to me I am eight millions of + miles distant, and shall be all my life travelling along a weary road to + get there again just for one long sunny day. And it might rain when I got + there after all! My trouble nobody knows. Nobody knows a thing! + </p> + <p> + The night before my departure, Miss Pollingray did me the honour to + accompany me up to my bedroom. She spoke to me searchingly about Charles; + but she did not demand compromising answers. She is not in favour of early + marriages, so she merely wishes to know the footing upon which we stand: + that of friends. I assured her we were simply friends. ‘It is the firmest + basis of an attachment,’ she said; and I did not look hurried. + </p> + <p> + But I gained my end. I led her to talk of the beautiful Marquise. This is + the tale. Mr. Pollingray, when a very young man, and comparatively poor, + went over to France with good introductions, and there saw and fell in + love with Louise de Riverolles. She reciprocated his passion. If he would + have consented to abjure his religion and worship with her, Madame de + Riverolles, her mother, would have listened to her entreaties. But Gilbert + was firm. Mr. Pollingray, I mean, refused to abandon his faith. Her + mother, consequently, did not interfere, and Monsieur de Riverolles, her + father, gave her to the Marquis de Marzardouin, a roue young nobleman, + immensely rich, and shockingly dissipated. And she married him. No, I + cannot understand French girls. Do as I will, it is quite incomprehensible + to me how Louise, loving another, could suffer herself to be decked out in + bridal finery and go to the altar and take the marriage oaths. Not if + perdition had threatened would I have submitted. I have a feeling that Mr. + Pollingray should have shown at least one year’s resentment at such + conduct; and yet I admire him for his immediate generous forgiveness of + her. It was fatherly. She was married at sixteen. His forgiveness was the + fruit of his few years’ seniority, said Miss Pollingray, whose opinion of + the Marquise I cannot arrive at. At any rate, they have been true and warm + friends ever since, constantly together interchangeing visits. That is why + Mr. Pollingray has been more French than English for those long years. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pollingray concluded by asking me what I thought of the story. I + said: ‘It is very strange French habits are so different from ours. I dare + say... I hope..., perhaps... indeed, Mr. Pollingray seems happy now.’ Her + idea of my wits must be that they are of the schoolgirl order—a + perfect receptacle for indefinite impressions. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ said she. ‘Gilbert has burnt his heart to ashes by this time.’ + </p> + <p> + I slept with that sentence in my brain. In the morning, I rose and + dressed, dreaming. As I was turning the handle of my door to go down to + breakfast, suddenly I swung round in a fit of tears. It was so piteous to + think that he should have waited by her twenty years in a slow anguish, + his heart burning out, without a reproach or a complaint. I saw him, I + still see him, like a martyr. + </p> + <p> + ‘Some people,’ Miss Pollingray said, I permitted themselves to think evil + of my brother’s assiduous devotion to a married woman. There is not a spot + on his character, or on that of the person whom Gilbert loved.’ + </p> + <p> + I would believe it in the teeth of calumny. I would cling to my belief in + him if I were drowning. + </p> + <p> + I consider that those twenty years are just nothing, if he chooses to have + them so. He has lived embalmed in a saintly affection. No wonder he + considers himself still youthful. He is entitled to feel that his future + is before him. + </p> + <p> + No amount of sponging would get the stains away from my horrid red + eyelids. I slunk into my seat at the breakfast-table, not knowing that one + of the maids had dropped a letter from Charles into my hand, and that I + had opened it and was holding it open. The letter, as I found afterwards, + told me that Charles has received an order from his uncle to go over to + Mr. Pollingray’s estate in Dauphiny on business. I am not sorry that they + should have supposed I was silly enough to cry at the thought of Charles’s + crossing the Channel. They did imagine it, I know; for by and by Miss + Pollingray whispered: ‘Les absents n’auront pas tort, cette fois, + n’est-ce-pas? ‘And Mr. Pollingray was cruelly gentle: an air of ‘I would + not intrude on such emotions’; and I heightened their delusions as much as + I could: there was no other way of accounting for my pantomime face. Why + should he fancy I suffered so terribly? He talked with an excited + cheerfulness meant to relieve me, of course, but there was no + justification for his deeming me a love-sick kind of woe-begone ballad + girl. It caused him likewise to adopt a manner—what to call it, I + cannot think: tender respect, frigid regard, anything that accompanies and + belongs to the pressure of your hand with the finger-tips. He said goodbye + so tenderly that I would have kissed his sleeve. The effort to restrain + myself made me like an icicle. Oh! adieu, mon parrain! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + A wise man will not squander his laughter if he can help it + A woman is hurt if you do not confide to her your plans + Gentleman in a good state of preservation + Imparting the usual chorus of yesses to his own mind + In every difficulty, patience is a life-belt + Knew my friend to be one of the most absent-minded of men + Rapture of obliviousness + Telling her anything, she makes half a face in anticipation + When you have done laughing with her, you can laugh at her +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0059" id="link2H_4_0059"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SENTIMENTALISTS + </h2> + <h3> + AN UNFINISHED COMEDY + </h3> + <h3> + By George Meredith + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DRAMATIS PERSONAE + HOMEWARE. + PROFESSOR SPIRAL. + + ARDEN,............. In love with Astraea. + + SWITHIN,........... Sympathetics. OSIER, + + DAME DRESDEN,...... Sister to Homeware. + + ASTRAEA,........... Niece to Dame Dresden and Homeware. + + LYRA,.............. A Wife. + LADY OLDLACE. + VIRGINIA. + WINIFRED. + + THE SENTIMENTALISTS + + AN UNFINISHED COMEDY +</pre> + <div class="play"> + <p> + The scene is a Surrey garden in early summer. The paths are shaded by + tall box-wood hedges. The—time is some sixty years ago. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE I + + PROFESSOR SPIRAL, DAME DRESDEN, LADY OLDLACE, + VIRGINIA, WINIFRED, SWITHIN, and OSIER +</pre> + <p> + (As they slowly promenade the garden, the professor is delivering one of + his exquisite orations on Woman.) + </p> + <p> + SPIRAL: One husband! The woman consenting to marriage takes but one. For + her there is no widowhood. That punctuation of the sentence called death + is not the end of the chapter for her. It is the brilliant proof of her + having a soul. So she exalts her sex. Above the wrangle and clamour of + the passions she is a fixed star. After once recording her obedience to + the laws of our common nature—that is to say, by descending once + to wedlock—she passes on in sovereign disengagement—a + dedicated widow. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (By this time they have disappeared from view. HOMEWARE appears; + he craftily avoids joining their party, like one who is unworthy of + such noble oratory. He desires privacy and a book, but is disturbed + by the arrival of ARDEN, who is painfully anxious to be polite to + ‘her uncle Homeware.’) + + SCENE II + + HOMEWARE, ARDEN +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: A glorious morning, sir. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: The sun is out, sir. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: I am happy in meeting you, Mr. Homeware. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: I can direct you to the ladies, Mr. Arden. You will find them + up yonder avenue. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: They are listening, I believe, to an oration from the mouth of + Professor Spiral. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: On an Alpine flower which has descended to flourish on English + soil. Professor Spiral calls it Nature’s ‘dedicated widow.’ + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: ‘Dedicated widow’? + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: The reference you will observe is to my niece Astraea. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: She is dedicated to whom? + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: To her dead husband! You see the reverse of Astraea, says the + professor, in those world-infamous widows who marry again. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Bah! + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Astraea, it is decided, must remain solitary, virgin cold, + like the little Alpine flower. Professor Spiral has his theme. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: He will make much of it. May I venture to say that I prefer my + present company? + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: It is a singular choice. I can supply you with no weapons for + the sort of stride in which young men are usually engaged. You belong to + the camp you are avoiding. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Achilles was not the worse warrior, sir, for his probation in + petticoats. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: His deeds proclaim it. But Alexander was the better chieftain + until he drank with Lais. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: No, I do not plead guilty to Bacchus. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: You are confessing to the madder form of drunkenness. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: How, sir, I beg? + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: How, when a young man sees the index to himself in everything + spoken! + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: That might have the look. I did rightly in coming to you, sir. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: ‘Her uncle Homeware’? + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: You read through us all, sir. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: It may interest you to learn that you are the third of the + gentlemen commissioned to consult the lady’s uncle Homeware. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: The third. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Yes, she is pursued. It could hardly be otherwise. Her + attractions are acknowledged, and the house is not a convent. Yet, Mr. + Arden, I must remind you that all of you are upon an enterprise held to + be profane by the laws of this region. Can you again forget that Astraea + is a widow? + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: She was a wife two months; she has been a widow two years. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: The widow of the great and venerable Professor Towers is not + to measure her widowhood by years. His, from the altar to the tomb. As + it might be read, a one day’s walk! + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Is she, in the pride of her youth, to be sacrificed to a + whimsical feminine delicacy? + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: You have argued it with her? + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: I have presumed. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: And still she refused her hand! + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: She commended me to you, sir. She has a sound judgement of + persons. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: I should put it that she passes the Commissioners of Lunacy, + on the ground of her being a humorous damsel. Your predecessors had also + argued it with her; and they, too, discovered their enemy in a whimsical + feminine delicacy. Where is the difference between you? Evidently she + cannot perceive it, and I have to seek: You will have had many + conversations with Astraea? + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: I can say, that I am thrice the man I was before I had them. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: You have gained in manhood from conversations with a widow in + her twenty-second year; and you want more of her. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: As much as I want more wisdom. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: You would call her your Muse? + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: So prosaic a creature as I would not dare to call her that. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: You have the timely mantle of modesty, Mr. Arden. She has + prepared you for some of the tests with her uncle Homeware. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: She warned me to be myself, without a spice of affectation. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: No harder task could be set a young man in modern days. Oh, + the humorous damsel. You sketch me the dimple at her mouth. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Frankly, sir, I wish you to know me better; and I think I can + bear inspection. Astraea sent me to hear the reasons why she refuses me + a hearing. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Her reason, I repeat, is this; to her idea, a second wedlock + is unholy. Further, it passes me to explain. The young lady lands us + where we were at the beginning; such must have been her humorous + intention. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: What can I do? + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Love and war have been compared. Both require strategy and + tactics, according to my recollection of the campaign. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: I will take to heart what you say, sir. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Take it to head. There must be occasional descent of lovers’ + heads from the clouds. And Professor Spiral,—But here we have a + belated breeze of skirts. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (The reference is to the arrival of LYRA, breathless.) + + SCENE III + + HOMEWARE, ARDEN, LYRA +</pre> + <p> + LYRA: My own dear uncle Homeware! + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: But where is Pluriel? + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Where is a woman’s husband when she is away from him? + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: In Purgatory, by the proper reckoning. But hurry up the + avenue, or you will be late for Professor Spiral’s address. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: I know it all without hearing. Their Spiral! Ah, Mr. Arden! You + have not chosen badly. The greater my experience, the more do I value my + uncle Homeware’s company. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (She is affectionate to excess but has a roguish eye withal, as of + one who knows that uncle Homeware suspects all young men and most + young women.) +</pre> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Agree with the lady promptly, my friend. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: I would gladly boast of so lengthened an experience, Lady + Pluriel. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: I must have a talk with Astraea, my dear uncle. Her letters breed + suspicions. She writes feverishly. The last one hints at service on the + West Coast of Africa. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: For the draining of a pestiferous land, or an enlightenment of + the benighted black, we could not despatch a missionary more effective + than the handsomest widow in Great Britain. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Have you not seen signs of disturbance? + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: A great oration may be a sedative. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: I have my suspicions. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Mr. Arden, I could counsel you to throw yourself at Lady + Pluriel’s feet, and institute her as your confessional priest. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Madam, I am at your feet. I am devoted to the lady. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Devoted. There cannot be an objection. It signifies that a man + asks for nothing in return! + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Have a thought upon your words with this lady, Mr. Arden! + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Devoted, I said. I am. I would give my life for her. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Expecting it to be taken to-morrow or next day? Accept my + encomiums. A male devotee is within an inch of a miracle. Women had been + looking for this model for ages, uncle. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: You are the model, Mr Arden! + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Can you have intended to say that it is in view of marriage you + are devoted to the widow of Professor Towers? + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: My one view. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: It is a star you are beseeching to descend. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: It is. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: You disappoint me hugely. You are of the ordinary tribe after all; + and your devotion craves an enormous exchange, infinitely surpassing the + amount you bestow. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: It does. She is rich in gifts; I am poor. But I give all I have. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: These lovers, uncle Homeware! + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: A honey-bag is hung up and we have them about us. They would + persuade us that the chief business of the world is a march to the + altar. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: With the right partner, if the business of the world is to be + better done. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Which right partner has been chosen on her part, by a veiled + woman, who marches back from the altar to discover that she has chained + herself to the skeleton of an idea, or is in charge of that devouring + tyrant, an uxorious husband. Is Mr. Arden in favour with the Dame, + uncle? + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: My sister is an unsuspicious potentate, as you know. + Pretenders to the hand of an inviolate widow bite like waves at a rock. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Professor Spiral advances rapidly. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Not, it would appear, when he has his audience of ladies and + their satellites. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: I am sure I hear a spring-tide of enthusiasm coming. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: I will see. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (He goes up the path.) +</pre> + <p> + LYRA: Now! my own dear uncle, save me from Pluriel. I have given him the + slip in sheer desperation; but the man is at his shrewdest when he is + left to guess at my heels. Tell him I am anywhere but here. Tell him I + ran away to get a sense of freshness in seeing him again. Let me have + one day of liberty, or, upon my word, I shall do deeds; I shall console + young Arden: I shall fly to Paris and set my cap at presidents and + foreign princes. Anything rather than be eaten up every minute, as I am. + May no woman of my acquaintance marry a man of twenty years her senior! + She marries a gigantic limpet. At that period of his life a man becomes + too voraciously constant. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Cupid clipped of wing is a destructive parasite. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: I am in dead earnest, uncle, and I will have a respite, or else + let decorum beware! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (Arden returns.) +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: The ladies are on their way. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: I must get Astraea to myself. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: My library is a virgin fortress, Mr. Arden. Its gates are open + to you on other topics than the coupling of inebriates. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (He enters the house—LYRA disappears in the garden—Spiral’s + audience reappear without him.) + + SCENE IV + + DAME DRESDEN, LADY OLDLACE, VIRGINIA, WINIFRED, + ARDEN, SWITHIN, OSIER +</pre> + <p> + LADY OLDLACE: Such perfect rhythm! + </p> + <p> + WINIFRED: Such oratory! + </p> + <p> + LADY OLDLACE: A master hand. I was in a trance from the first sentence + to the impressive close. + </p> + <p> + OSIER: Such oratory is a whole orchestral symphony. + </p> + <p> + VIRGINIA: Such command of intonation and subject! + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: That resonant voice! + </p> + <p> + LADY OLDLACE: Swithin, his flow of eloquence! He launched forth! + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: Like an eagle from a cliff. + </p> + <p> + OSIER: The measure of the words was like a beat of wings. + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: He makes poets of us. + </p> + <p> + DAME DRESDEN: Spiral achieved his pinnacle to-day! + </p> + <p> + VIRGINIA: How treacherous is our memory when we have most the longing to + recall great sayings! + </p> + <p> + OSIER: True, I conceive that my notes will be precious. + </p> + <p> + WINIFRED: You could take notes! + </p> + <p> + LADY OLDLACE: It seems a device for missing the quintessential. + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: Scraps of the body to the loss of the soul of it. We can allow + that our friend performed good menial service. + </p> + <p> + WINIFRED: I could not have done the thing. + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: In truth; it does remind one of the mess of pottage. + </p> + <p> + LADY OLDLACE: One hardly felt one breathed. + </p> + <p> + VIRGINIA: I confess it moved me to tears. + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: There is a pathos for us in the display of perfection. Such + subtle contrast with our individual poverty affects us. + </p> + <p> + WINIFRED: Surely there were passages of a distinct and most exquisite + pathos. + </p> + <p> + LADY OLDLACE: As in all great oratory! The key of it is the pathos. + </p> + <p> + VIRGINIA: In great oratory, great poetry, great fiction; you try it by + the pathos. All our critics agree in stipulating for the pathos. My + tears were no feminine weakness, I could not be a discordant instrument. + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: I must make confession. He played on me too. + </p> + <p> + OSIER: We shall be sensible for long of that vibration from the touch of + a master hand. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: An accomplished player can make a toy-shop fiddle sound you a + Stradivarius. + </p> + <p> + DAME DRESDEN: Have you a right to a remark, Mr. Arden? What could have + detained you? + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Ah, Dame. It may have been a warning that I am a discordant + instrument. I do not readily vibrate. + </p> + <p> + DAME DRESDEN: A discordant instrument is out of place in any civil + society. You have lost what cannot be recovered. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: There are the notes. + </p> + <p> + OSIER: Yes, the notes. + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: You can be satisfied with the dog’s feast at the table, Mr. + Arden! + </p> + <p> + OSIER: Ha! + </p> + <p> + VIRGINIA: Never have I seen Astraea look sublimer in her beauty than + with her eyes uplifted to the impassioned speaker, reflecting every + variation of his tones. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Astraea! + </p> + <p> + LADY OLDLACE: She was entranced when he spoke of woman descending from + her ideal to the gross reality of man. + </p> + <p> + OSIER: Yes, yes. I have the words [reads]: ‘Woman is to the front of + man, holding the vestal flower of a purer civilization. I see,’ he says, + ‘the little taper in her hands transparent round the light, against + rough winds.’ + </p> + <p> + DAME DRESDEN: And of Astraea herself, what were the words? ‘Nature’s + dedicated widow.’ + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: Vestal widow, was it not? + </p> + <p> + VIRGINIA: Maiden widow, I think. + </p> + <p> + DAME DRESDEN: We decide for ‘dedicated.’ + </p> + <p> + WINIFRED: Spiral paid his most happy tribute to the memory of her late + husband, the renowned Professor Towers. + </p> + <p> + VIRGINIA: But his look was at dear Astraea. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: At Astraea? Why? + </p> + <p> + VIRGINIA: For her sanction doubtless. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Ha! + </p> + <p> + WINIFRED: He said his pride would ever be in his being received as the + successor of Professor Towers. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Successor! + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: Guardian was it not? + </p> + <p> + OSIER: Tutor. I think he said. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (The three gentlemen consult Osier’s notes uneasily.) +</pre> + <p> + DAME DRESDEN: Our professor must by this time have received in full + Astraea’s congratulations, and Lyra is hearing from her what it is to be + too late. You will join us at the luncheon table, if you do not feel + yourself a discordant instrument there, Mr. Arden? + </p> + <p> + ARDEN (going to her): The allusion to knife and fork tunes my strings + instantly, Dame. + </p> + <p> + DAME DRESDEN: You must help me to-day, for the professor will be tired, + though we dare not hint at it in his presence. No reference, ladies, to + the great speech we have been privileged to hear; we have expressed our + appreciation and he could hardly bear it. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Nothing is more distasteful to the orator! + </p> + <p> + VIRGINIA: As with every true genius, he is driven to feel humbly human + by the exultation of him. + </p> + <p> + SWITHIN: He breathes in a rarified air. + </p> + <p> + OSIER: I was thrilled, I caught at passing beauties. I see that here and + there I have jotted down incoherencies, lines have seduced me, so that I + missed the sequence—the precious part. Ladies, permit me to rank + him with Plato as to the equality of women and men. + </p> + <p> + WINIFRED: It is nobly said. + </p> + <p> + OSIER: And with the Stoics, in regard to celibacy. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (By this time all the ladies have gone into the house.) +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: Successor! Was the word successor? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (ARDEN, SWITHIN, and OSIER are excitedly searching the notes + when SPIRAL passes and strolls into the house. His air of + self-satisfaction increases their uneasiness they follow him. + ASTRAEA and LYRA come down the path.) + + SCENE V + + ASTRAEA, LYRA +</pre> + <p> + LYRA: Oh! Pluriel, ask me of him! I wish I were less sure he would not + be at the next corner I turn. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: You speak of your husband strangely, Lyra. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: My head is out of a sack. I managed my escape from him this + morning by renouncing bath and breakfast; and what a relief, to be in + the railway carriage alone! that is, when the engine snorted. And if I + set eyes on him within a week, he will hear some truths. His idea of + marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody. My hat is on, and on + goes Pluriel’s. My foot on the stairs; I hear his boot behind me. In my + boudoir I am alone one minute, and then the door opens to the + inevitable. I pay a visit, he is passing the house as I leave it. He + will not even affect surprise. I belong to him, I am cat’s mouse. And he + will look doating on me in public. And when I speak to anybody, he is + that fearful picture of all smirks. Fling off a kid glove after a round + of calls; feel your hand—there you have me now that I am out of + him for my half a day, if for as long. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: This is one of the world’s happy marriages! + </p> + <p> + LYRA: This is one of the world’s choice dishes! And I have it planted + under my nostrils eternally. Spare me the mention of Pluriel until he + appears; that’s too certain this very day. Oh! good husband! good kind + of man! whatever you please; only some peace, I do pray, for the + husband-haunted wife. I like him, I like him, of course, but I want to + breathe. Why, an English boy perpetually bowled by a Christmas pudding + would come to loathe the mess. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: His is surely the excess of a merit. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Excess is a poison. Excess of a merit is a capital offence in + morality. It disgusts, us with virtue. And you are the cunningest of + fencers, tongue, or foils. You lead me to talk of myself, and I hate the + subject. By the way, you have practised with Mr. Arden. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: A tiresome instructor, who lets you pass his guard to + compliment you on a hit. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: He rather wins me. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: He does at first. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Begins Plurielizing, without the law to back him, does he? + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: The fencing lessons are at an end. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: The duetts with Mr. Swithin’s violoncello continue? + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: He broke through the melody. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: There were readings in poetry with Mr. Osier, I recollect. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: His own compositions became obtrusive. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: No fencing, no music, no poetry! no West Coast of Africa either, I + suppose. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Very well! I am on my defence. You at least shall not + misunderstand me, Lyra. One intense regret I have; that I did not live + in the time of the Amazons. They were free from this question of + marriage; this babble of love. Why am I so persecuted? He will not take + a refusal. There are sacred reasons. I am supported by every woman + having the sense of her dignity. I am perverted, burlesqued by the fury + of wrath I feel at their incessant pursuit. And I despise Mr. Osier and + Mr. Swithin because they have an air of pious agreement with the Dame, + and are conspirators behind their mask. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: False, false men! + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: They come to me. I am complimented on being the vulnerable + spot. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: The object desired is usually addressed by suitors, my poor + Astraea! + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: With the assumption, that as I am feminine I must necessarily + be in the folds of the horrible constrictor they call Love, and that I + leap to the thoughts of their debasing marriage. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: One of them goes to Mr. Homeware. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: All are sent to him in turn. He can dispose of them. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Now that is really masterly fun, my dear; most creditable to you! + Love, marriage, a troop of suitors, and uncle Homeware. No, it would not + have occurred to me, and—I am considered to have some humour. Of + course, he disposes of them. He seemed to have a fairly favourable + opinion of Mr. Arden. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: I do not share it. He is the least respectful of the sentiments + entertained by me. Pray, spare me the mention of him, as you say of your + husband. He has that pitiful conceit in men, which sets them thinking + that a woman must needs be susceptible to the declaration of the mere + existence of their passion. He is past argument. Impossible for him to + conceive a woman’s having a mind above the conditions of her sex. A + woman, according to him, can have no ideal of life, except as a ball to + toss in the air and catch in a cup. Put him aside.... We creatures are + doomed to marriage, and if we shun it, we are a kind of cripple. He is + grossly earthy in his view of us. We are unable to move a step in + thought or act unless we submit to have a husband. That is his + reasoning. Nature! Nature! I have to hear of Nature! We must be above + Nature, I tell him, or, we shall be very much below. He is ranked among + our clever young men; and he can be amusing. So far he passes muster; + and he has a pleasant voice. I dare say he is an uncle Homeware’s good + sort of boy. Girls like him. Why does he not fix his attention upon one + of them; Why upon me? We waste our time in talking of him.... The secret + of it is, that he has no reverence. The marriage he vaunts is a mere + convenient arrangement for two to live together under command of nature. + Reverence for the state of marriage is unknown to him. How explain my + feeling? I am driven into silence. Cease to speak of him.... He is the + dupe of his eloquence—his passion, he calls it. I have only to + trust myself to him, and—I shall be one of the world’s married + women! Words are useless. How am I to make him see that it is I who + respect the state of marriage by refusing; not he by perpetually + soliciting. Once married, married for ever. Widow is but a term. When + women hold their own against him, as I have done, they will be more + esteemed. I have resisted and conquered. I am sorry I do not share in + the opinion of your favourite. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Mine? + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: You spoke warmly of him. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Warmly, was it? + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: You are not blamed, my dear: he has a winning manner. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: I take him to be a manly young fellow, smart enough; handsome too. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Oh, he has good looks. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: And a head, by repute. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: For the world’s work, yes. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Not romantic. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Romantic ideas are for dreamy simperers. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Amazons repudiate them. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Laugh at me. Half my time I am laughing at myself. I should + regain my pride if I could be resolved on a step. I am strong to resist; + I have not strength to move. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: I see the sphinx of Egypt! + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: And all the while I am a manufactory of gunpowder in this quiet + old-world Sabbath circle of dear good souls, with their stereotyped + interjections, and orchestra of enthusiasms; their tapering delicacies: + the rejoicing they have in their common agreement on all created things. + To them it is restful. It spurs me to fly from rooms and chairs and beds + and houses. I sleep hardly a couple of hours. Then into the early + morning air, out with the birds; I know no other pleasure. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Hospital work for a variation: civil or military. The former + involves the house-surgeon: the latter the grateful lieutenant. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Not if a woman can resist... I go to it proof-armoured. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: What does the Dame say? + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Sighs over me! Just a little maddening to hear. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: When we feel we have the strength of giants, and are bidden to sit + and smile! You should rap out some of our old sweet-innocent garden + oaths with her—‘Carnation! Dame!’ That used to make her dance on + her seat.—‘But, dearest Dame, it is as natural an impulse for + women to have that relief as for men; and natural will out, begonia! it + will!’ We ran through the book of Botany for devilish objurgations. I do + believe our misconduct caused us to be handed to the good man at the + altar as the right corrective. And you were the worst offender. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Was I? I could be now, though I am so changed a creature. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: You enjoy the studies with your Spiral, come! + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Professor Spiral is the one honest gentleman here. He does + homage to my principles. I have never been troubled by him: no silly + hints or side-looks—you know, the dog at the forbidden bone. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: A grand orator. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: He is. You fix on the smallest of his gifts. He is + intellectually and morally superior. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: Praise of that kind makes me rather incline to prefer his + inferiors. He fed gobble-gobble on your puffs of incense. I coughed and + scraped the gravel; quite in vain; he tapped for more and more. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Professor Spiral is a thinker; he is a sage. He gives women + their due. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: And he is a bachelor too—or consequently. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: If you like you may be as playful with me as the Lyra of our + maiden days used to be. My dear, my dear, how glad I am to have you + here! You remind me that I once had a heart. It will beat again with you + beside me, and I shall look to you for protection. A novel request from + me. From annoyance, I mean. It has entirely altered my character. + Sometimes I am afraid to think of what I was, lest I should suddenly + romp, and perform pirouettes and cry ‘Carnation!’ There is the bell. We + must not be late when the professor condescends to sit for meals. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: That rings healthily in the professor. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Arm in arm, my Lyra. + </p> + <p> + LYRA: No Pluriel yet! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (They enter the house, and the time changes to evening of the same + day. The scene is still the garden.) + + SCENE VI + + ASTRAEA, ARDEN +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Pardon me if I do not hear you well. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: I will not even think you barbarous. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: I am. I am the object of the chase. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: The huntsman draws the wood, then, and not you. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: At any instant I am forced to run, + Or turn in my defence: how can I be + Other than barbarous? You are the cause. +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: No: heaven that made you beautiful’s the cause. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: Say, earth, that gave you instincts. Bring me down + To instincts! When by chance I speak awhile + With our professor, you appear in haste, + Full cry to sight again the missing hare. + Away ideas! All that’s divinest flies! + I have to bear in mind how young you are. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: You have only to look up to me four years, + Instead of forty! +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Sir? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN There’s my misfortune! + And worse that, young, I love as a young man. + Could I but quench the fire, I might conceal + The youthfulness offending you so much. +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: I wish you would. I wish it earnestly. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Impossible. I burn. + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: You should not burn. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN ‘Tis more than I. ‘Tis fire. It masters will. + You would not say I should not’ if you knew fire. + It seizes. It devours. +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Dry wood. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: Cold wit! + How cold you can be! But be cold, for sweet + You must be. And your eyes are mine: with them + I see myself: unworthy to usurp + The place I hold a moment. While I look + I have my happiness. +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: You should look higher. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: Through you to the highest. Only through you! + Through you + The mark I may attain is visible, + And I have strength to dream of winning it. + You are the bow that speeds the arrow: you + The glass that brings the distance nigh. My world + Is luminous through you, pure heavenly, + But hangs upon the rose’s outer leaf, + Not next her heart. Astraea! my own beloved! +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: We may be excellent friends. And I have faults. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Name them: I am hungering for more to love. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: I waver very constantly: I have + No fixity of feeling or of sight. + I have no courage: I can often dream + Of daring: when I wake I am in dread. + I am inconstant as a butterfly, + And shallow as a brook with little fish! + Strange little fish, that tempt the small boy’s net, + But at a touch straight dive! I am any one’s, + And no one’s! I am vain. + Praise of my beauty lodges in my ears. + The lark reels up with it; the nightingale + Sobs bleeding; the flowers nod; I could believe + A poet, though he praised me to my face. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: Never had poet so divine a fount + To drink of! +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Have I given you more to love + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: More! You have given me your inner mind, + Where conscience in the robes of Justice shoots + Light so serenely keen that in such light + Fair infants, I newly criminal of earth,’ + As your friend Osier says, might show some blot. + Seraphs might! More to love? Oh! these dear faults + Lead you to me like troops of laughing girls + With garlands. All the fear is, that you trifle, + Feigning them. +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: For what purpose? + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Can I guess? ASTRAEA: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I think ‘tis you who have the trifler’s note. + My hearing is acute, and when you speak, + Two voices ring, though you speak fervidly. + Your Osier quotation jars. Beware! + Why were you absent from our meeting-place + This morning? +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: I was on the way, and met + Your uncle Homeware +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Ah! + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: He loves you. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: He loves me: he has never understood. + He loves me as a creature of the flock; + A little whiter than some others. + Yes; He loves me, as men love; not to uplift; + Not to have faith in; not to spiritualize. + For him I am a woman and a widow + One of the flock, unmarked save by a brand. + He said it!—You confess it! You have learnt + To share his error, erring fatally. +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: By whose advice went I to him? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: By whose? + Pursuit that seemed incessant: persecution. + Besides, I have changed since then: I change; I change; + It is too true I change. I could esteem + You better did you change. And had you heard + The noble words this morning from the mouth + Of our professor, changed were you, or raised + Above love-thoughts, love-talk, and flame and flutter, + High as eternal snows. What said he else, + My uncle Homeware? +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: That you were not free: + And that he counselled us to use our wits. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: But I am free I free to be ever free! + My freedom keeps me free! He counselled us? + I am not one in a conspiracy. + I scheme no discord with my present life. + Who does, I cannot look on as my friend. + Not free? You know me little. Were I chained, + For liberty I would sell liberty + To him who helped me to an hour’s release. + But having perfect freedom... +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: No. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: Good sir, + You check me? +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: Perfect freedom? + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Perfect! + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: No! + </p> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Am I awake? What blinds me? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: Filaments + The slenderest ever woven about a brain + From the brain’s mists, by the little sprite called + Fancy. + A breath would scatter them; but that one breath + Must come of animation. When the heart + Is as, a frozen sea the brain spins webs. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: ‘Tis very singular! + I understand. + You translate cleverly. I hear in verse + My uncle Homeware’s prose. He has these notions. + Old men presume to read us. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: Young men may. + You gaze on an ideal reflecting you + Need I say beautiful? Yet it reflects + Less beauty than the lady whom I love + Breathes, radiates. Look on yourself in me. + What harm in gazing? You are this flower + You are that spirit. But the spirit fed + With substance of the flower takes all its bloom! + And where in spirits is the bloom of the flower? +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: ‘Tis very singular. You have a tone + Quite changed. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: You wished a change. To show you, how + I read you... +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: Oh! no, no. It means dissection. + I never heard of reading character + That did not mean dissection. Spare me that. + I am wilful, violent, capricious, weak, + Wound in a web of my own spinning-wheel, + A star-gazer, a riband in the wind... +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: A banner in the wind! and me you lead, + And shall! At least, I follow till I win. +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Forbear, I do beseech you. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: I have had + Your hand in mine. +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Once. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: Once! + Once! ‘twas; once, was the heart alive, + Leaping to break the ice. Oh! once, was aye + That laughed at frosty May like spring’s return. + Say you are terrorized: you dare not melt. + You like me; you might love me; but to dare, + Tasks more than courage. Veneration, friends, + Self-worship, which is often self-distrust, + Bar the good way to you, and make a dream + A fortress and a prison. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: Changed! you have changed + Indeed. When you so boldly seized my hand + It seemed a boyish freak, done boyishly. + I wondered at Professor Spiral’s choice + Of you for an example, and our hope. + Now you grow dangerous. You must have thought, + And some things true you speak-save ‘terrorized.’ + It may be flattering to sweet self-love + To deem me terrorized.—‘Tis my own soul, + My heart, my mind, all that I hold most sacred, + Not fear of others, bids me walk aloof. + Who terrorizes me? Who could? Friends? Never! + The world? as little. Terrorized! +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: Forgive me. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: I might reply, Respect me. If I loved, + If I could be so faithless as to love, + Think you I would not rather noise abroad + My shame for penitence than let friends dwell + Deluded by an image of one vowed + To superhuman, who the common mock + Of things too human has at heart become. +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: You would declare your love? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: I said, my shame. + The woman that’s the widow is ensnared, + Caught in the toils! away with widows!—Oh! + I hear men shouting it. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: But shame there’s none + For me in loving: therefore I may take + Your friends to witness? tell them that my pride + Is in the love of you? +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: ‘Twill soon bring + The silence that should be between us two, + And sooner give me peace. +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: And you consent? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: For the sake of peace and silence I consent, + You should be warned that you will cruelly + Disturb them. But ‘tis best. You should be warned + Your pleading will be hopeless. But ‘tis best. + You have my full consent. Weigh well your acts, + You cannot rest where you have cast this bolt + Lay that to heart, and you are cherished, prized, + Among them: they are estimable ladies, + Warmest of friends; though you may think they soar + Too loftily for your measure of strict sense + (And as my uncle Homeware’s pupil, sir, + In worldliness, you do), just minds they have: + Once know them, and your banishment will fret. + I would not run such risks. You will offend, + Go near to outrage them; and perturbate + As they have not deserved of you. But I, + Considering I am nothing in the scales + You balance, quite and of necessity + Consent. When you have weighed it, let me hear. + My uncle Homeware steps this way in haste. + We have been talking long, and in full view! + + SCENE VII + + ASTRAEA, ARDEN, HOMEWARE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE: Astraea, child! You, Arden, stand aside. + Ay, if she were a maid you might speak first, + But being a widow she must find her tongue. + Astraea, they await you. State the fact + As soon as you are questioned, fearlessly. + Open the battle with artillery. +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: What is the matter, uncle Homeware? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE (playing fox): What? + Why, we have watched your nice preliminaries + From the windows half the evening. Now run in. + Their patience has run out, and, as I said, + Unlimber and deliver fire at once. + Your aunts Virginia and Winifred, + With Lady Oldlace, are the senators, + The Dame for Dogs. They wear terrific brows, + But be not you affrighted, my sweet chick, + And tell them uncle Homeware backs your choice, + By lawyer and by priests! by altar, fount, + And testament! +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: My choice! what have I chosen? + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: She asks? You hear her, Arden?—what and whom! + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Surely, sir!... heavens! have you... + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE: Surely the old fox, + In all I have read, is wiser than the young: + And if there is a game for fox to play, + Old fox plays cunningest. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: Why fox? Oh! uncle, + You make my heart beat with your mystery; + I never did love riddles. Why sit they + Awaiting me, and looking terrible? +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE: It is reported of an ancient folk + Which worshipped idols, that upon a day + Their idol pitched before them on the floor +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Was ever so ridiculous a tale! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE To call the attendant fires to account + Their elders forthwith sat... +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: Is there no prayer + Will move you, uncle Homeware? +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE: God-daughter, + This gentleman for you I have proposed + As husband. +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Arden! we are lost. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: Astraea! + Support him! Though I knew not his design, + It plants me in mid-heaven. Would it were + Not you, but I to bear the shock. My love! + We lost, you cry; you join me with you lost! + The truth leaps from your heart: and let it shine + To light us on our brilliant battle day + And victory +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Who betrayed me! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE: Who betrayed? + Your voice, your eyes, your veil, your knife and fork; + Your tenfold worship of your widowhood; + As he who sees he must yield up the flag, + Hugs it oath-swearingly! straw-drowningly. + To be reasonable: you sent this gentleman + Referring him to me.... +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ASTRAEA: And that is false. + All’s false. You have conspired. I am disgraced. + But you will learn you have judged erroneously. + I am not the frail creature you conceive. + Between your vision of life’s aim, and theirs + Who presently will question me, I cling + To theirs as light: and yours I deem a den + Where souls can have no growth. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE: But when we touched + The point of hand-pressings, ‘twas rightly time + To think of wedding ties? +</pre> + <p> + ASTRAEA: Arden, adieu! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (She rushes into house.) + + SCENE VIII + + ARDEN, HOMEWARE +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: Adieu! she said. With her that word is final. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE: Strange! how young people blowing words like clouds + On winds, now fair, now foul, and as they please + Should still attach the Fates to them. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: She’s wounded + Wounded to the quick! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE: The quicker our success: for short + Of that, these dames, who feel for everything, + Feel nothing. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: Your intention has been kind, + Dear sir, but you have ruined me. +</pre> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Good-night. (Going.) + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: Yet she said, we are lost, in her surprise. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Good morning. (Returning.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: I suppose that I am bound + (If I could see for what I should be glad!) + To thank you, sir. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE: Look hard but give no thanks. + I found my girl descending on the road + Of breakneck coquetry, and barred her way. + Either she leaps the bar, or she must back. + That means she marries you, or says good-bye. + (Going again.) +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: Now she’s among them. (Looking at window.) + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: Now she sees her mind. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: It is my destiny she now decides! + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: There’s now suspense on earth and round the spheres. + </p> + <p> + ARDEN: She’s mine now: mine! or I am doomed to go. + </p> + <p> + HOMEWARE: The marriage ring, or the portmanteau now! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +ARDEN: Laugh as you like, air! I am not ashamed + To love and own it. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HOMEWARE: So the symptoms show. + Rightly, young man, and proving a good breed. + To further it’s a duty to mankind + And I have lent my push, But recollect: + Old Ilion was not conquered in a day. + (He enters house.) +</pre> + <p> + ARDEN: Ten years! If I may win her at the end! + </p> + <br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + CURTAIN + + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + A great oration may be a sedative + A male devotee is within an inch of a miracle + Above Nature, I tell him, or, we shall be very much below + As in all great oratory! The key of it is the pathos + Back from the altar to discover that she has chained herself + Cupid clipped of wing is a destructive parasite + Excess of a merit is a capital offence in morality + His idea of marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody + I am a discordant instrument I do not readily vibrate + I like him, I like him, of course, but I want to breathe + I who respect the state of marriage by refusing + Love and war have been compared—Both require strategy + Peace, I do pray, for the husband-haunted wife + Period of his life a man becomes too voraciously constant + Pitiful conceit in men + Rejoicing they have in their common agreement + Self-worship, which is often self-distrust + Suspects all young men and most young women + Their idol pitched before them on the floor + Were I chained, For liberty I would sell liberty + Woman descending from her ideal to the gross reality of man + Your devotion craves an enormous exchange +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0060" id="link2H_4_0060"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MISCELLANEOUS PROSE + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_CONT" id="link2H_CONT"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CONTENTS: + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + INTRODUCTION TO W. M. THACKERAY’S “THE FOUR GEORGES” + A PAUSE IN THE STRIFE. + CONCESSION TO THE CELT. + LESLIE STEPHEN. + CORRESPONDENCE FROM THE SEAT OF WAR IN ITALY LETTERS WRITTEN TO THE + ‘MORNING POST’ FROM THE SEAT OF WAR IN ITALY. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION TO W. M. THACKERAY’S “THE FOUR GEORGES” + </h2> + <p> + WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY was born at Calcutta, July 18, 1811, the only + child of Richmond and Anne Thackeray. He received the main part of his + education at the Charterhouse, as we know to our profit. Thence he passed + to Cambridge, remaining there from February 1829 to sometime in 1830. To + judge by quotations and allusions, his favourite of the classics was + Horace, the chosen of the eighteenth century, and generally the voice of + its philosophy in a prosperous country. His voyage from India gave him + sight of Napoleon on the rocky island. In his young manhood he made his + bow reverentially to Goethe of Weimar; which did not check his hand from + setting its mark on the sickliness of Werther. + </p> + <p> + He was built of an extremely impressionable nature and a commanding good + sense. He was in addition a calm observer, having ‘the harvest of a quiet + eye.’ Of this combination with the flood of subjects brought up to + judgement in his mind, came the prevalent humour, the enforced disposition + to satire, the singular critical drollery, notable in his works. His + parodies, even those pushed to burlesque, are an expression of criticism + and are more effective than the serious method, while they rarely overstep + the line of justness. The Novels by Eminent Hands do not pervert the + originals they exaggerate. ‘Sieyes an abbe, now a ferocious + lifeguardsman,’ stretches the face of the rollicking Irish novelist + without disfeaturing him; and the mysterious visitor to the palatial + mansion in Holywell Street indicates possibilities in the Oriental + imagination of the eminent statesman who stooped to conquer fact through + fiction. Thackeray’s attitude in his great novels is that of the + composedly urbane lecturer, on a level with a select audience, assured of + interesting, above requirements to excite. The slow movement of the + narrative has a grace of style to charm like the dance of the Minuet de la + Cour: it is the limpidity of Addison flavoured with salt of a racy + vernacular; and such is the veri-similitude and the dialogue that they + might seem to be heard from the mouths of living speakers. When in this + way the characters of Vanity Fair had come to growth, their author was + rightly appreciated as one of the creators in our literature, he took at + once the place he will retain. With this great book and with Esmond and + The Newcomes, he gave a name eminent, singular, and beloved to English + fiction. + </p> + <p> + Charges of cynicism are common against all satirists, Thackeray had to + bear with them. The social world he looked at did not show him heroes, + only here and there a plain good soul to whom he was affectionate in the + unhysterical way of an English father patting a son on the head. He + described his world as an accurate observer saw it, he could not be + dishonest. Not a page of his books reveals malevolence or a sneer at + humanity. He was driven to the satirical task by the scenes about him. + There must be the moralist in the satirist if satire is to strike. The + stroke is weakened and art violated when he comes to the front. But he + will always be pressing forward, and Thackeray restrained him as much as + could be done, in the manner of a good-humoured constable. Thackeray may + have appeared cynical to the devout by keeping him from a station in the + pulpit among congregations of the many convicted sinners. That the + moralist would have occupied it and thundered had he presented us with the + Fourth of the Georges we see when we read of his rejecting the + solicitations of so seductive a personage for the satiric rod. + </p> + <p> + Himself one of the manliest, the kindliest of human creatures, it was the + love of his art that exposed him to misinterpretation. He did stout + service in his day. If the bad manners he scourged are now lessened to + some degree we pay a debt in remembering that we owe much to him, and if + what appears incurable remains with us, a continued reading of his works + will at least help to combat it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0063" id="link2H_4_0063"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A PAUSE IN THE STRIFE—1886 + </h2> + <p> + Our ‘Eriniad,’ or ballad epic of the enfranchisement of the sister island + is closing its first fytte for the singer, and with such result as those + Englishmen who have some knowledge of their fellows foresaw. There are + sufficient reasons why the Tories should always be able to keep together, + but let them have the credit of cohesiveness and subordination to control. + Though working for their own ends, they won the esteem of their allies, + which will count for them in the struggles to follow. Their leaders appear + to have seen what has not been distinctly perceptible to the opposite + party—that the break up of the Liberals means the defection of the + old Whigs in permanence, heralding the establishment of a powerful force + against Radicalism, with a capital cry to the country. They have tactical + astuteness. If they seem rather too proud of their victory, it is merely + because, as becomes them, they do not look ahead. To rejoice in the + gaining of a day, without having clear views of the morrow, is puerile + enough. Any Tory victory, it may be said, is little more than a pause in + the strife, unless when the Radical game is played ‘to dish the Whigs,’ + and the Tories are now fast bound down by their incorporation of the + latter to abstain from the violent springs and right-about-facings of the + Derby-Disraeli period. They are so heavily weighted by the new combination + that their Jack-in-the-box, Lord Randolph, will have to stand like an + ordinary sentinel on duty, and take the measurement of his natural size. + They must, on the supposition of their entry into office, even to satisfy + their own constituents, produce a scheme. Their majority in the House will + command it. + </p> + <p> + To this extent, then, Mr. Gladstone has not been defeated. The question + set on fire by him will never be extinguished until the combustible matter + has gone to ashes. But personally he meets a sharp rebuff. The Tories may + well raise hurrahs over that. Radicals have to admit it, and point to the + grounds of it. Between a man’s enemies and his friends there comes out a + rough painting of his character, not without a resemblance to the final + summary, albeit wanting in the justly delicate historical touch to + particular features. On the one side he is abused as ‘the one-man power’; + lauded on the other for his marvellous intuition of the popular will. One + can believe that he scarcely wishes to march dictatorially, and full + surely his Egyptian policy was from step to step a misreading of the will + of the English people. He went forth on this campaign, with the finger of + Egypt not ineffectively levelled against him a second time. Nevertheless + he does read his English; he has, too, the fatal tendency to the bringing + forth of Bills in the manner of Jove big with Minerva. He perceived the + necessity, and the issue of the necessity; clearly defined what must come, + and, with a higher motive than the vanity with which his enemies charge + him, though not with such high counsel as Wisdom at his ear, fell to work + on it alone, produced the whole Bill alone, and then handed it to his + Cabinet to digest, too much in love with the thing he had laid and + incubated to permit of any serious dismemberment of its frame. Hence the + disruption. He worked for the future, produced a Bill for the future, and + is wrecked in the present. Probably he can work in no other way than from + the impulse of his enthusiasm, solitarily. It is a way of making men + overweeningly in love with their creations. The consequence is likely to + be that Ireland will get her full measure of justice to appease her + cravings earlier than she would have had as much from the United Liberal + Cabinet, but at a cost both to her and to England. Meanwhile we are to + have a House of Commons incapable of conducting public business; the + tradesmen to whom the Times addressed pathetic condolences on the loss of + their season will lose more than one; and we shall be made sensible that + we have an enemy in our midst, until a people, slow to think, have taken + counsel of their native generosity to put trust in the most generous race + on earth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0064" id="link2H_4_0064"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CONCESSION TO THE CELT—1886 + </h2> + <p> + Things are quiet outside an ant-hill until the stick has been thrust into + it. Mr. Gladstone’s Bill for helping to the wiser government of Ireland + has brought forth our busy citizens on the top-rubble in traversing + counterswarms, and whatever may be said against a Bill that deals roughly + with many sensitive interests, one asks whether anything less violently + impressive would have roused industrious England to take this question at + last into the mind, as a matter for settlement. The Liberal leader has + driven it home; and wantonly, in the way of a pedestrian demagogue, some + think; certainly to the discomposure of the comfortable and the myopely + busy, who prefer to live on with a disease in the frame rather than at all + be stirred. They can, we see, pronounce a positive electoral negative; yet + even they, after the eighty and odd years of our domestic perplexity, in + the presence of the eighty and odd members pledged for Home Rule, have + been moved to excited inquiries regarding measures—short of the + obnoxious Bill. How much we suffer from sniffing the vain incense of that + word practical, is contempt of prevision! Many of the measures now being + proposed responsively to the fretful cry for them, as a better alternative + to correction by force of arms, are sound and just. Ten years back, or at + a more recent period before Mr. Parnell’s triumph in the number of his + followers, they would have formed a basis for the appeasement of the + troubled land. The institution of county boards, the abolition of the + detested Castle, something like the establishment of a Royal residence in + Dublin, would have begun the work well. Materially and sentimentally, they + were the right steps to take. They are now proposed too late. They are + regarded as petty concessions, insufficient and vexatious. The lower and + the higher elements in the population are fused by the enthusiasm of men + who find themselves marching in full body on a road, under a flag, at the + heels of a trusted leader; and they will no longer be fed with sops. Petty + concessions are signs of weakness to the unsatisfied; they prick an + appetite, they do not close breaches. If our object is, as we hear it + said, to appease the Irish, we shall have to give them the Parliament + their leader demands. It might once have been much less; it may be worried + into a raving, perhaps a desperate wrestling, for still more. Nations pay + Sibylline prices for want of forethought. Mr. Parnell’s terms are embodied + in Mr. Gladstone’s Bill, to which he and his band have subscribed. The one + point for him is the statutory Parliament, so that Ireland may civilly + govern herself; and standing before the world as representative of his + country, he addresses an applausive audience when he cites the total + failure of England to do that business of government, as at least a + logical reason for the claim. England has confessedly failed; the world + says it, the country admits it. We have failed, and not because the + so-called Saxon is incapable of understanding the Celt, but owing to our + system, suitable enough to us, of rule by Party, which puts perpetually a + shifting hand upon the reins, and invites the clamour it has to allay. The + Irish—the English too in some degree—have been taught that + roaring; in its various forms, is the trick to open the ears of Ministers. + We have encouraged by irritating them to practise it, until it has become + a habit, an hereditary profession with them. Ministers in turn have + defensively adopted the arts of beguilement, varied by an exercise of the + police. We grew accustomed to periods of Irish fever. The exhaustion + ensuing we named tranquillity, and hoped that it would bear fruit. But we + did not plant. The Party in office directed its attention to what was + uppermost and urgent—to that which kicked them. Although we were + living, by common consent; with a disease in the frame, eruptive at + intervals, a national disfigurement always a danger, the Ministerial idea + of arresting it for the purpose of healing was confined, before the + passing of Mr. Gladstone’s well-meant Land Bill, to the occasional + despatch of commissions; and, in fine, we behold through History the Irish + malady treated as a form of British constitutional gout. Parliament + touched on the Irish only when the Irish were active as a virus. Our later + alternations of cajolery and repression bear painful resemblance to the + nervous fit of rickety riders compounding with their destinations that + they may keep their seats. The cajolery was foolish, if an end was in + view; the repression inefficient. To repress efficiently we have to stifle + a conscience accusing us of old injustice, and forget that we are sworn to + freedom. The cries that we have been hearing for Cromwell or for Bismarck + prove the existence of an impatient faction in our midst fitter to wear + the collars of those masters whom they invoke than to drop a vote into the + ballot-box. As for the prominent politicians who have displaced their + rivals partly on the strength of an implied approbation of those cries, we + shall see how they illumine the councils of a governing people. They are + wiser than the barking dogs. Cromwell and Bismarck are great names; but + the harrying of Ireland did not settle it, and to Germanize a Posen and + call it peace will find echo only in the German tongue. Posen is the error + of a master-mind too much given to hammer at obstacles. He has, however, + the hammer. Can it be imagined in English hands? The braver exemplar for + grappling with monstrous political tasks is Cavour, and he would not have + hinted at the iron method or the bayonet for a pacification. Cavour + challenged debate; he had faith in the active intellect, and that is the + thing to be prayed for by statesmen who would register permanent + successes. The Irish, it is true, do not conduct an argument coolly. Mr. + Parnell and his eighty-five have not met the Conservative leader and his + following in the Commons with the gravity of platonic disputants. But they + have a logical position, equivalent to the best of arguments. They are + representatives, they would say, of a country admittedly ill-governed by + us; and they have accepted the Bill of the defeated Minister as final. Its + provisions are their terms of peace. They offer in return for that boon to + take the burden we have groaned under off our hands. If we answer that we + think them insincere, we accuse these thrice accredited representatives of + the Irish people of being hypocrites and crafty conspirators; and numbers + in England, affected by the weapons they have used to get to their present + strength, do think it; forgetful that our obtuseness to their constant + appeals forced them into the extremer shifts of agitation. Yet it will + hardly be denied that these men love Ireland; and they have not shown + themselves by their acts to be insane. To suppose them conspiring for + separation indicates a suspicion that they have neither hearts nor heads. + For Ireland, separation is immediate ruin. It would prove a very short + sail for these conspirators before the ship went down. The vital necessity + of the Union for both, countries, obviously for the weaker of the two, is + known to them; and unless we resume our exasperation of the wild fellow + the Celt can be made by such a process, we have not rational grounds for + treating him, or treating with him, as a Bedlamite. He has besides his + passions shrewd sense; and his passions may be rightly directed by + benevolent attraction. This is language derided by the victorious enemy; + it speaks nevertheless what the world, and even troubled America, thinks + of the Irish Celt. More of it now on our side of the Channel would be + serviceable. The notion that he hates the English comes of his fevered + chafing against the harness of England, and when subject to his fevers, he + is unrestrained in his cries and deeds. That pertains to the nature of + him. Of course, if we have no belief in the virtues of friendliness and + confidence—none in regard to the Irishman—we show him his + footing, and we challenge the issue. For the sole alternative is distinct + antagonism, a form of war. Mr. Gladstone’s Bill has brought us to that + definite line. Ireland having given her adhesion to it, swearing that she + does so in good faith, and will not accept a smaller quantity, peace is + only to be had by our placing trust in the Irish; we trust them or we + crush them. Intermediate ways are but the prosecution of our ugly + flounderings in Bogland; and dubious as we see the choice on either side, + a decisive step to right or left will not show us to the world so bemired, + to ourselves so miserably inefficient, as we appear in this session of a + new Parliament. With his eighty-five, apart from external operations + lawful or not, Mr. Parnell can act as a sort of lumbricus in the House. + Let journalists watch and chronicle events: if Mr. Gladstone has humour, + they will yet note a peculiar smile on his closed mouth from time to time + when the alien body within the House, from which, for the sake of its + dignity and ability to conduct its affairs, he would have relieved it till + the day of a warmer intelligence between Irish and English, paralyzes our + machinery business. An ably-handled coherent body in the midst of the + liquid groups will make it felt that Ireland is a nation, naturally + dependent though she must be. We have to do with forces in politics, and + the great majority of the Irish Nationalists in Ireland has made them a + force. + </p> + <p> + No doubt Mr. Matthew Arnold is correct in his apprehensions of the dangers + we may fear from a Dublin House of Commons. The declarations and novel or + ultra theories might almost be written down beforehand. I should, for my + part, anticipate a greater danger in the familiar attitude of the English + metropolitan Press and public toward an experiment they dislike and + incline to dread:—the cynical comments, the quotations between + inverted commas, the commiserating shrug, cold irony, raw banter, growl of + menace, sharp snap, rounds of laughter. Frenchmen of the Young Republic, + not presently appreciated as offensive, have had some of these careless + trifles translated for them, and have been stung. We favoured Germany with + them now and then, before Germany became the first power in Europe. Before + America had displayed herself as greatest among the giants that do not go + to pieces, she had, as Americans forgivingly remember, without mentioning, + a series of flicks of the whip. It is well to learn manners without having + them imposed on us. There are various ways for tripping the experiment. + Nevertheless, when the experiment is tried, considering that our welfare + is involved in its not failing, as we have failed, we should prepare to + start it cordially, cordially assist it. Thoughtful political minds regard + the measure as a backward step; yet conceiving but a prospect that a + measure accepted by Home Rulers will possibly enable the Irish and English + to step together, it seems better worth the venture than to pursue a + course of prospectless discord! Whatever we do or abstain from doing has + now its evident dangers, and this being imminent may appear the larger of + them; but if a weighing of the conditions dictates it, and conscience + approves, the wiser proceeding is to make trial of the untried. Our + outlook was preternaturally black, with enormous increase of dangers when + the originator of our species venturesomely arose from the posture of the + ‘quatre pattes’. We consider that we have not lost by his temerity. In + states of dubitation under impelling elements, the instinct pointing to + courageous action is, besides the manlier, conjecturably the right one. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0065" id="link2H_4_0065"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LESLIE STEPHEN—1904 + </h2> + <p> + When that noble body of scholarly and cheerful pedestrians, the Sunday + Tramps, were on the march, with Leslie Stephen to lead them, there was + conversation which would have made the presence of a shorthand writer a + benefaction to the country. A pause to it came at the examination of the + leader’s watch and Ordnance map under the western sun, and void was given + for the strike across country to catch the tail of a train offering dinner + in London, at the cost of a run through hedges, over ditches and fellows, + past proclamation against trespassers, under suspicion of being taken for + more serious depredators in flight. The chief of the Tramps had a + wonderful calculating eye in the observation of distances and the nature + of the land, as he proved by his discovery of untried passes in the higher + Alps, and he had no mercy for pursy followers. I have often said of this + life-long student and philosophical head that he had in him the making of + a great military captain. He would not have been opposed to the profession + of arms if he had been captured early for the service, notwithstanding his + abomination of bloodshed. He had a high, calm courage, was unperturbed in + a dubious position, and would confidently take the way out of it which he + conceived to be the better. We have not to deplore that he was diverted + from the ways of a soldier, though England, as the country has been + learning of late, cannot boast of many in uniform who have capacity for + leadership. His work in literature will be reviewed by his lieutenant of + Tramps, one of the ablest of writers!—[Frederic W. Maitland.]—The + memory of it remains with us, as being the profoundest and the most sober + criticism we have had in our time. The only sting in it was an inoffensive + humorous irony that now and then stole out for a roll over, like a furry + cub, or the occasional ripple on a lake in grey weather. We have nothing + left that is like it. + </p> + <p> + One might easily fall into the pit of panegyric by an enumeration of his + qualities, personal and literary. It would not be out of harmony with the + temper and characteristics of a mind so equable. He, the equable, whether + in condemnation or eulogy. Our loss of such a man is great, for work was + in his brain, and the hand was active till close upon the time when his + breathing ceased. The loss to his friends can be replaced only by an + imagination that conjures him up beside them. That will be no task to + those who have known him well enough to see his view of things as they + are, and revive his expression of it. With them he will live despite the + word farewell. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0066" id="link2H_4_0066"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CORRESPONDENCE FROM THE SEAT OF WAR IN ITALY + </h2> + <p> + LETTERS WRITTEN TO THE MORNING POST FROM THE SEAT OF WAR IN ITALY FROM OUR + OWN CORRESPONDENT + </p> + <p> + FERRARA, June 22, 1866. + </p> + <p> + Before this letter reaches London the guns will have awakened both the + echo of the old river Po and the classical Mincio. The whole of the + troops, about 110,000 men, with which Cialdini intends to force the + passage of the first-named river are already massed along the right bank + of the Po, anxiously waiting that the last hour of to-morrow should + strike, and that the order for action should be given. The telegraph will + have already informed your readers that, according to the intimation sent + by General Lamarmora on Tuesday evening to the Austrian headquarters, the + three days fixed by the general’s message before beginning hostilities + will expire at twelve p.m. of the 23rd of June. + </p> + <p> + Cialdini’s headquarters have been established in this city since Wednesday + morning, and the famous general, in whom the fourth corps he commands, and + the whole of the nation, has so much confidence, has concentrated the + whole of his forces within a comparatively narrow compass, and is ready + for action. I believe therefore that by to-morrow the right bank of the Po + will be connected with the mainland of the Polesine by several pontoon + bridges, which will enable Cialdini’s corps d’armee to cross the river, + and, as everybody here hopes, to cross it in spite of any defence the + Austrians may make. + </p> + <p> + On my way to this ancient city last evening I met General Cadogan and two + superior Prussian officers, who by this time must have joined Victor + Emmanuel’s headquarters at Cremona; if not, they have been by this time + transferred elsewhere, more on the front, towards the line of the Mincio, + on which, according to appearance, the first, second, and third Italian + corps d’armee seem destined to operate. The English general and the two + Prussian officers above mentioned are to follow the king’s staff, the + first as English commissioner, the superior in rank of the two others in + the same capacity. + </p> + <p> + I have been told here that, before leaving Bologna, Cialdini held a + general council of the commanders of the seven divisions of which his + powerful corps d’armee is formed, and that he told them that, in spite of + the forces the enemy has massed on the left bank of the Po, between the + point which faces Stellata and Rovigo, the river must be crossed by his + troops, whatever might be the sacrifice this important operation requires. + Cialdini is a man who knows how to keep his word, and, for this reason, I + have no doubt he will do what he has already made up his mind to + accomplish. I am therefore confident that before two or three days have + elapsed, these 110,000 Italian troops, or a great part of them, will have + trod, for the Italians, the sacred land of Venetia. + </p> + <p> + Once the river Po crossed by Cialdini’s corps d’armee, he will boldly + enter the Polesine and make himself master of the road which leads by + Rovigo towards Este and Padua. A glance at the map will show your readers + how, at about twenty or thirty miles from the first-mentioned town, a + chain of hills, called the Colli Euganei, stretches itself from the last + spur of the Julian Alps, in the vicinity of Vicenza, gently sloping down + towards the sea. As this line affords good positions for contesting the + advance of an army crossing the Po at Lago Scuro, or at any other point + not far from it, it is to be supposed that the Austrians will make a stand + there, and I should not be surprised at all that Cialdini’s first battle, + if accepted by the enemy, should take place within that comparatively + narrow ground which is within Montagnana, Este, Terradura, Abano, and + Padua. It is impossible to suppose that Cialdini’s corps d’armee, being so + large, is destined to cross the Po only at one point of the river below + its course: it is extremely likely that part of it should cross it at some + point above, between Revere and Stellata, where the river is in two or + three instances only 450 metres wide. Were the Italian general to be + successful—protected as he will be by the tremendous fire of the + powerful artillery he disposes of—in these twofold operations, the + Austrians defending the line of the Colli Euganei could be easily + outflanked by the Italian troops, who would have crossed the river below + Lago Scuro. Of course these are mere suppositions, for nobody, as you may + imagine, except the king, Cialdini himself, Lamarmora, Pettiti, and + Menabrea, is acquainted with the plan of the forthcoming campaign. There + was a rumour at Cialdini’s headquarters to-day that the Austrians had + gathered in great numbers in the Polesine, and especially at Rovigo, a + small town which they have strongly fortified of late, with an apparent + design to oppose the crossing of the Po, were Cialdini to attempt it at or + near Lago Scuro. There are about Rovigo large tracts of marshes and fields + cut by ditches and brooks, which, though owing to the dryness of the + season [they] cannot be, as it was generally believed two weeks ago, + easily inundated, yet might well aid the operations the Austrians may + undertake in order to check the advance of the Italian fourth corps + d’armee. The resistance to the undertaking of Cialdini may be, on the part + of the Austrians, very stout, but I am almost certain that it will be + overcome by the ardour of Italian troops, and by the skill of their + illustrious leader. + </p> + <p> + As I told you above, the declaration of war was handed over to an Austrian + major for transmission to Count Stancowick, the Austrian governor of + Mantua, on the evening of the 19th, by Colonel Bariola, sous-chef of the + general staff, who was accompanied by the Duke Luigi of Sant’ Arpino, the + husband of the amiable widow of Lord Burghersh. The duke is the eldest son + of Prince San Teodoro, one of the wealthiest noblemen of Naples. In spite + of his high position and of his family ties, the Duke of Sant’ Arpino, who + is well known in London fashionable society, entered as a volunteer in the + Italian army, and was appointed orderly officer to General Lamarmora. The + choice of such a gentleman for the mission I am speaking of was apparently + made with intention, in order to show the Austrians, that the Neapolitan + nobility is as much interested in the national movement as the middle and + lower classes of the Kingdom, once so fearfully misruled by the Bourbons. + The Duke of Sant’ Arpino is not the only Neapolitan nobleman who has + enlisted in the Italian army since the war with Austria broke out. In + order to show you the importance which must be given to this + pronunciamiento of the Neapolitan noblemen, allow me to give you here a + short list of the names of those of them who have enlisted as private + soldiers in the cavalry regiments of the regular army: The Duke of + Policastro; the Count of Savignano Guevara, the eldest son of the Duke of + Bovino; the Duke d’Ozia d’Angri, who had emigrated in 1860, and returned + to Naples six months ago; Marquis Rivadebro Serra; Marquis Pisicelli, + whose family had left Naples in 1860 out of devotion to Francis II.; two + Carraciolos, of the historical family from which sprung the unfortunate + Neapolitan admiral of this name, whose head Lord Nelson would have done + better not to have sacrificed to the cruelty of Queen Caroline; Prince + Carini, the representative of an illustrious family of Sicily, a nephew of + the Marquis del Vasto; and Pescara, a descendant of that great general of + Charles V., to whom the proud Francis I. of France was obliged to + surrender and give up his sword at the battle of Pavia. Besides these + Neapolitan noblemen who have enlisted of late as privates, the Italian + army now encamped on the banks of the Po and of the Mincio may boast of + two Colonnas, a prince of Somma, two Barons Renzi, an Acquaviva, of the + Duke of Atri, two Capece, two Princes Buttera, etc. To return to the + mission of Colonel Bariola and the Duke of Sant’ Arpino, I will add some + details which were told me this morning by a gentleman who left Cremona + yesterday evening, and who had them from a reliable source. The messenger + of General Lamarmora had been directed to proceed from Cremona to the + small village of Le Grazie, which, on the line of the Mincio, marks the + Austrian and Italian frontier. + </p> + <p> + On the right bank of the Lake of Mantua, in the year 1340, stood a small + chapel containing a miraculous painting of the Madonna, called by the + people of the locality ‘Santa Maria delle Grazie.’ The boatmen and + fishermen of the Mincio, who had been, as they said, often saved from + certain death by the Madonna—as famous in those days as the modern + Lady of Rimini, celebrated for the startling feat of winking her eyes—determined + to erect for her a more worthy abode. + </p> + <p> + Hence arose the Santuario delle Grazie. Here, as at Loretto and other holy + localities of Italy, a fair is held, in which, amongst a great number of + worldly things, rosaries, holy images, and other miraculous objects are + sold, and astounding boons are said to be secured at the most trifling + expense. The Santuario della Madonna delle Grazie enjoying a far-spread + reputation, the dumb, deaf, blind, and halt-in short, people afflicted + with all sorts of infirmities—flock thither during the fair, and are + not wanting even on the other days of the year. The church of Le Grazie is + one of the most curious of Italy. Not that there is anything remarkable in + its architecture, for it is an Italian Gothic structure of the simplest + style. But the ornamental part of the interior is most peculiar. The walls + of the building are covered with a double row of wax statues, of life + size, representing a host of warriors, cardinals, bishops, kings, and + popes, who—as the story runs—pretended to have received some + wonderful grace during their earthly existence. Amongst the grand array of + illustrious personages, there are not a few humbler individuals whose + history is faithfully told (if you choose to credit it) by the painted + inscriptions below. There is even a convict, who, at the moment of being + hanged, implored succour of the all-powerful Madonna, whereupon the beam + of the gibbet instantly broke, and the worthy individual was restored to + society—a very doubtful benefit after all. On Colonel Bariola and + the Duke of Sant’ Arpino arriving at this place, which is only five miles + distant from Mantua, their carriage was naturally stopped by the + commissaire of the Austrian police, whose duty was to watch the frontier. + Having told him that they had a despatch to deliver either to the military + governor of Mantua or to some officer sent by him to receive it, the + commissaire at once despatched a mounted gendarme to Mantua. Two hours had + scarcely elapsed when a carriage drove into the village of Le Grazie, from + which an Austrian major of infantry alighted and hastened to a wooden hut + where the two Italian officers were waiting. Colonel Bariola, who was + trained in the Austrian military school of Viller Nashstad, and regularly + left the Austrian service in 1848, acquainted the newly-arrived major with + his mission, which was that of delivering the sealed despatch to the + general in command of Mantua and receiving for it a regular receipt. The + despatch was addressed to the Archduke Albert, commander-in-chief of the + Austrian army of the South, care of the governor of Mantua. After the + major had delivered the receipt, the three messengers entered into a + courteous conversation, during which Colonel Bariola seized an opportunity + of presenting the duke, purposely laying stress on the fact of his + belonging to one of the most illustrious families of Naples. It happened + that the Austrian major had also been trained in the same school where + Colonel Bariola was brought up—a circumstance of which he was + reminded by the Austrian officer himself. Three hours had scarcely elapsed + from the arrival of the two Italian messengers of war at Le Grazie, on the + Austrian frontier, when they were already on their way back to the + headquarters of Cremona, where during the night the rumour was current + that a telegram had been received by Lamarmora from Verona, in which + Archduke Albert accepted the challenge. Victor Emmanuel, whom I saw at + Bologna yesterday, arrived at Cremona in the morning at two o’clock, but + by this time his Majesty’s headquarters must have removed more towards the + front, in the direction of the Oglio. I should not be at all surprised + were the Italian headquarters to be established by to-morrow either at + Piubega or Gazzoldo, if not actually at Goito, a village, as you know, + which marks the Italian-Austrian frontier on the Mincio. The whole of the + first, second, and third Italian corps d’armee are by this time + concentrated within that comparatively narrow space which lies between the + position of Castiglione, Delle Stiviere, Lorrato, and Desenzano, on the + Lake of Garda, and Solferino on one side; Piubega, Gazzoldo, Sacca, Goito, + and Castellucchio on the other. Are these three corps d’armee to attack + when they hear the roar of Cialdini’s artillery on the right bank of the + Po? Are they destined to force the passage of the Mincio either at Goito + or at Borghetto? or are they destined to invest Verona, storm Peschiera, + and lay siege to Mantua? This is more than I can tell you, for, I repeat + it, the intentions of the Italian leaders are enveloped in a veil which + nobody—the Austrians included—has as yet been able to + penetrate. One thing, however, is certain, and it is this, that as the + clock of Victor Emmanuel marks the last minute of the seventy-second hour + fixed by the declaration delivered at Le Grazie on Wednesday by Colonel + Bariola to the Austrian major, the fair land where Virgil was born and + Tasso was imprisoned will be enveloped by a thick cloud of the smoke of + hundreds and hundreds of cannon. Let us hope that God will be in favour of + right and justice, which, in this imminent and fierce struggle, is + undoubtedly on the Italian side. + </p> + <p> + CREMONA, June 30, 1866. + </p> + <p> + The telegraph will have already informed you of the concentration of the + Italian army, whose headquarters have since Tuesday been removed from + Redondesco to Piadena, the king having chosen the adjacent villa of + Cigognolo for his residence. The concentrating movements of the royal army + began on the morning of the 27th, i.e., three days after the bloody fait + d’armes of the 24th, which, narrated and commented on in different manners + according to the interests and passions of the narrators, still remains + for many people a mystery. At the end of this letter you will see that I + quote a short phrase with which an Austrian major, now prisoner of war, + portrayed the results of the fierce struggle fought beyond the Mincio. + This officer is one of the few survivors of a regiment of Austrian + volunteers, uhlans, two squadrons of which he himself commanded. The + declaration made by this officer was thoroughly explicit, and conveys the + exact idea of the valour displayed by the Italians in that terrible fight. + Those who incline to overrate the advantages obtained by the Austrians on + Sunday last must not forget that if Lamarmora had thought proper to + persist in holding the positions of Valeggio, Volta, and Goito, the + Austrians could not have prevented him. It seems the Austrian + general-in-chief shared this opinion, for, after his army had carried with + terrible sacrifices the positions of Monte Vento and Custozza, it did not + appear, nor indeed did the Austrians then give any signs, that they + intended to adopt a more active system of warfare. It is the business of a + commander to see that after a victory the fruit of it should not be lost, + and for this reason the enemy is pursued and molested, and time is not + left him for reorganization. Nothing of this happened after the 24th—nothing + has been done by the Austrians to secure such results. The frontier which + separates the two dominions is now the same as it was on the eve of the + declaration of war. At Goito, at Monzambano, and in the other villages of + the extreme frontier, the Italian authorities are still discharging their + duties. Nothing is changed in those places, were we to except that now and + then an Austrian cavalry party suddenly makes its appearance, with the + only object of watching the movements of the Italian army. One of these + parties, formed by four squadrons of the Wurtemberg hussar regiment, + having advanced at six o’clock this morning on the right bank of the + Mincio, met the fourth squadron of the Italian lancers of Foggia and were + beaten back, and compelled to retire in disorder towards Goito and + Rivolta. In this unequal encounter the Italian lancers distinguished + themselves very much, made some Austrian hussars prisoners, and killed a + few more, amongst whom was an officer. The same state of thing, prevails + at Rivottella, a small village on the shores of the Lake of Garda, about + four miles distant from the most advanced fortifications of Peschiera. + There, as elsewhere, some Austrian parties advanced with the object of + watching the movements of the Garibaldians, who occupy the hilly ground, + which from Castiglione, Eseuta, and Cartel Venzago stretches to Lonato, + Salo, and Desenzano, and to the mountain passes of Caffaro. In the + last-named place the Garibaldians came to blows with the Austrians on the + morning of the 28th, and the former got the best of the fray. Had the fait + d’armes of the 24th, or the battle of Custozza, as Archduke Albrecht calls + it, been a great victory for the Austrians, why should the imperial army + remain in such inaction? The only conclusion we must come to is simply + this, that the Austrian losses have been such as to induce the + commander-in-chief of the army to act prudently on the defensive. We are + now informed that the charges of cavalry which the Austrian lancers and + the Hungarian hussars had to sustain near Villafranca on the 24th with the + Italian horsemen of the Aorta and Alessandria regiments have been so fatal + to the former that a whole division of the Kaiser cavalry must be + reorganised before it can be brought into the field main. + </p> + <p> + The regiment of Haller hussars and two of volunteer uhlans were almost + destroyed in that terrible charge. To give you an idea of this cavalry + encounter, it is sufficient to say that Colonel Vandoni, at the head of + the Aorta regiment he commands, charged fourteen times during the short + period of four hours. The volunteer uhlans of the Kaiser regiment had + already given up the idea of breaking through the square formed by the + battalion, in the centre of which stood Prince Humbert of Savoy, when they + were suddenly charged and literally cut to pieces by the Alessandria light + cavalry, in spite of the long lances they carried. This weapon and the + loose uniform they wear makes them resemble the Cossacks of the Don. There + is one circumstance, which, if I am not mistaken, has not as yet been + published by the newspapers, and it is this. There was a fight on the 25th + on a place at the north of Roverbella, between the Italian regiment of + Novara cavalry and a regiment of Hungarian hussars, whose name is not + known. This regiment was so thoroughly routed by the Italians that it was + pursued as far as Villafranca, and had two squadrons put hors de combat, + whilst the Novara regiment only lost twenty-four mounted men. I think it + right to mention this, for it proves that, the day after the bloody affair + of the 24th, the Italian army had still a regiment of cavalry operating at + Villafranca, a village which lay at a distance of fifteen kilometres from + the Italian frontier. A report, which is much accredited here, explains + how the Italian army did not derive the advantages it might have derived + from the action of the 24th. It appears that the orders issued from the + Italian headquarters during the previous night, and especially the verbal + instructions given by Lamarmora and Pettiti to the staff officers of the + different army corps, were either forgotten or misunderstood by those + officers. Those sent to Durando, the commander of the first corps, seem to + have been as follows: That he should have marched in the direction of + Castelnuovo, without, however, taking part in the action. Durando, it is + generally stated, had strictly adhered to the orders sent from the + headquarters, but it seems that General Cerale understood them too + literally. Having been ordered to march on Castelnuovo, and finding the + village strongly held by the Austrians, who received his division with a + tremendous fire, he at once engaged in the action instead of falling back + on the reserve of the first corps and waiting new instructions. If such + was really the case, it is evident that Cerale thought that the order to + march which he had received implied that he was to attack and get + possession of Castelnuovo, had this village, as it really was, already + been occupied by the enemy. In mentioning this fact I feel bound to + observe that I write it under the most complete reserve, for I should be + sorry indeed to charge General Cerale with having misunderstood such an + important order. + </p> + <p> + I see that one of your leading contemporaries believes that it would be + impossible for the king or Lamarmora to say what result they expected from + their ill-conceived and worse-executed attempt. The result they expected + is, I think, clear enough; they wanted to break through the quadrilateral + and make their junction with Cialdini, who was ready to cross the Po + during the night of the 24th. That the attempt was ill-conceived and + worse-executed, neither your contemporary nor the public at large has, for + the present, the right to conclude, for no one knows as yet but + imperfectly the details of the terrible fight. What is certain, however, + is that General Durando, perceiving that the Cerale division was lost, did + all that he could to help it. Failing in this he turned to his two + aides-de-camp and coolly said to them: + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, gentlemen, it is time for you to retire, for I have a duty to + perform which is a strictly personal one—the duty of dying.’ On + saying these words he galloped to the front and placed himself at about + twenty paces from a battalion of Austrian sharp-shooters which were + ascending the hill. In less than five minutes his horse was killed under + him, and he was wounded in the right hand. I scarcely need add that his + aides-de-camp did not flinch from sharing Durando’s fate. They bravely + followed their general, and one, the Marquis Corbetta, was wounded in the + leg; the other, Count Esengrini, had his horse shot under him. I called on + Durando, who is now at Milan, the day before yesterday. Though a stranger + to him, he received me at once, and, speaking of the action of the 24th, + he only said: ‘I have the satisfaction of having done my duty. I wait + tranquilly the judgement of history.’ + </p> + <p> + Assuming, for argument’s sake, that General Cerale misunderstood the + orders he had received, and that, by precipitating his movement, he + dragged into the same mistake the whole of Durando’s corps—assuming, + I say, this to be the right version, you can easily explain the fact that + neither of the two contending parties are as yet in a position clearly to + describe the action of the 24th. Why did neither the one nor the other + display and bring into action the whole forces they could have had at + their disposal? Why so many partial engagements at a great distance one + from the other? In a word, why that want of unity, which, in my opinion, + constituted the paramount characteristic of that bloody struggle? I may be + greatly mistaken, but I am of opinion that neither the Italian + general-in-chief nor the Austrian Archduke entertained on the night of the + 23rd the idea of delivering a battle on the 24th. There, and only there, + lies the whole mystery of the affair. The total want of unity of action on + the part of the Italians assured to the Austrians, not the victory, but + the chance of rendering impossible Lamarmora’s attempt to break through + the quadrilateral. This no one can deny; but, on the other hand, if the + Italian army failed in attaining its object, the failure-owing to the + bravery displayed both by the soldiers and by the generals-was far from + being a disastrous or irreparable one. The Italians fought from three + o’clock in the morning until nine in the evening like lions, showing to + their enemies and to Europe that they know how to defend their country, + and that they are worthy of the noble enterprise they have undertaken. + </p> + <p> + But let me now register one of the striking episodes of that memorable + day. It was five o’clock p.m. when General Bixio, whose division held an + elevated position not far from Villafranca, was attacked by three strong + Austrian brigades, which had debouched at the same time from three + different roads, supported with numerous artillery. An officer of the + Austrian staff, waving a white handkerchief, was seen galloping towards + the front of Bixio’s position, and, once in the presence of this general, + bade him surrender. Those who are not personally acquainted with Bixio + cannot form an idea of the impression this bold demand must have made on + him. I have been told that, on hearing the word ‘surrender,’ his face + turned suddenly pale, then flushed like purple, and darting at the + Austrian messenger, said, ‘Major, if you dare to pronounce once more the + word surrender in my presence, I tell you—and Bixio always keeps his + word—that I will have you shot at once.’ The Austrian officer had + scarcely reached the general who had sent him, than Bixio, rapidly moving + his division, fell with such impetuosity on the Austrian column, which + were ascending the hill, that they were thrown pellmell in the valley, + causing the greatest confusion amongst their reserve. Bixio himself led + his men, and with his aides-de-camp, Cavaliere Filippo Fermi, Count + Martini, and Colonel Malenchini, all Tuscans, actually charged the enemy. + I have been told that, on hearing this episode, Garibaldi said, ‘I am not + at all surprised, for Bixio is the best general I have made.’ Once the + enemy was repulsed, Bixio was ordered to manoeuvre so as to cover the + backward movement of the army, which was orderly and slowly retiring on + the Mincio. Assisted by the co-operation of the heavy cavalry, commanded + by General Count de Sonnaz, Bixio covered the retreat, and during the + night occupied Goito, a position which he held till the evening of the + 27th. + </p> + <p> + In consequence of the concentrating movement of the Italian army which I + have mentioned at the beginning of this letter, the fourth army corps + (Cialdini’s) still holds the line of the Po. If I am rightly informed, the + decree for the formation of the fourth army corps was signed by the king + yesterday. This corps is that of Garibaldi, and is about 40,000 strong. An + officer who has just returned from Milan told me this morning that he had + had an opportunity of speaking with the Austrian prisoners sent from Milan + to the fortress of Finestrelle in Piedmont. Amongst them was an officer of + a uhlan regiment, who had all the appearance of belonging to some + aristocratic family of Austrian Poland. Having been asked if he thought + Austria had really gained the battle on the 24th, he answered: ‘I do not + know if the illusions of the Austrian army go so far as to induce it to + believe it has obtained a victory—I do not believe it. He who loves + Austria cannot, however, wish she should obtain such victories, for they + are the victories of Pyrrhus! + </p> + <p> + There is at Verona some element in the Austrian councils of war which we + don’t understand, but which gives to their operations in this present + phase of the campaign just as uncertain and as vacillating a character as + it possessed during the campaign of 1859. On Friday they are still beyond + the Mincio, and on Saturday their small fleet on the Lake of Garda steams + up to Desenzano, and opens fire against this defenceless city and her + railway station, whilst two battalions of Tyrolese sharp-shooters occupy + the building. On Sunday they retire, but early yesterday they cross the + Mincio, at Goito and Monzambano, and begin to throw two bridges over the + same river, between the last-named place and the mills of Volta. At the + same time they erect batteries at Goito, Torrione, and Valeggio, pushing + their reconnoitring parties of hussars as far as Medole, Castiglione delle + Stiviere, and Montechiara, this last-named place being only at a distance + of twenty miles from Brescia. Before this news reached me here this + morning I was rather inclined to believe that they were playing at + hide-and-seek, in the hope that the leaders of the Italian army should be + tempted by the game and repeat, for the second time, the too hasty attack + on the quadrilateral. This news, which I have from a reliable source, has, + however, changed my former opinion, and I begin to believe that the + Austrian Archduke has really made up his mind to come out from the + strongholds of the quadrilateral, and intends actually to begin war on the + very battlefields where his imperial cousin was beaten on the 24th June + 1859. It may be that the partial disasters sustained by Benedek in Germany + have determined the Austrian Government to order a more active system of + war against Italy, or, as is generally believed here, that the + organisation of the commissariat was not perfect enough with the army + Archduke Albert commands to afford a more active and offensive action. Be + that as it may, the fact is that the news received here from several parts + of Upper Lombardy seems to indicate, on the part of the Austrians, the + intention of attacking their adversaries. + </p> + <p> + Yesterday whilst the peaceable village of Gazzoldo—five Italian + miles from Goito—was still buried in the silence of night it was + occupied by 400 hussars, to the great consternation of the people who were + roused from their sleep by the galloping of their unexpected visitors. The + sindaco, or mayor of the village, who is the chemist of the place, was, I + hear, forcibly taken from his house and compelled to escort the Austrians + on the road leading to Piubega and Redondesco. This worthy magistrate, who + was not apparently endowed with sufficient courage to make at least half a + hero, was so much frightened that he was taken ill, and still is in a very + precarious condition. These inroads are not always accomplished with + impunity, for last night, not far from Guidizzuolo, two squadrons of + Italian light cavalry—Cavalleggieri di Lucca, if I am rightly + informed—at a sudden turn of the road leading from the last-named + village to Cerlongo, found themselves almost face to face with four + squadrons of uhlans. The Italians, without numbering their foes, set spurs + to their horses and fell like thunder on the Austrians, who, after a fight + which lasted more than half an hour, were put to flight, leaving on the + ground fifteen men hors de combat, besides twelve prisoners. + </p> + <p> + Whilst skirmishing of this kind is going on in the flat ground of Lombardy + which lies between the Mincio and the Chiese, a more decisive action has + been adopted by the Austrian corps which is quartered in the Italian Tyrol + and Valtellina. A few days ago it was generally believed that the mission + of this corps was only to oppose Garibaldi should he try to force those + Alpine passes. But now we suddenly hear that the Austrians are already + masters of Caffaro, Bagolino, Riccomassino, and Turano, which points they + are fortifying. This fact explains the last movements made by Garibaldi + towards that direction. But whilst the Austrians are massing their troops + on the Tyrolese Alps the revolution is spreading fast in the more southern + mountains of the Friuli and Cadorre, thus threatening the flank and rear + of their army in Venetia. This revolutionary movement may not have as yet + assumed great proportions, but as it is the effect of a plan proposed + beforehand it might become really imposing, more so as the ranks of those + Italian patriots are daily swollen by numerous deserters and refractory + men of the Venetian regiments of the Austrian army. + </p> + <p> + Although the main body of the Austrians seems to be still concentrated + between Peschiera and Verona, I should not wonder if they crossed the + Mincio either to-day or to-morrow, with the object of occupying the + heights of Volta, Cavriana, and Solferino, which, both by their position + and by the nature of the ground, are in themselves so many fortresses. + Supposing that the Italian army should decide for action—and there + is every reason to believe that such will be the case—it is not + unlikely that, as we had already a second battle at Custozza, we may have + a second one at Solferino. + </p> + <p> + That at the Italian headquarters something has been decided upon which may + hasten the forward movement of the army, I infer from the fact that the + foreign military commissioners at the Italian headquarters, who, after the + 24th June had gone to pass the leisure of their camp life at Cremona, have + suddenly made their appearance at Torre Malamberti, a villa belonging to + the Marquis Araldi, where Lamarmora’s staff is quartered. A still more + important event is the presence of Baron Ricasoli, whom I met yesterday + evening on coming here. The President of the Council was coming from + Florence, and, after stopping a few hours at the villa of Cicognolo, where + Victor Emmanuel and the royal household are staying, he drove to Torre + Malamberti to confer with General Lamarmora and Count Pettiti. The + presence of the baron at headquarters is too important an incident to be + overlooked by people whose business is that of watching the course of + events in this country. And it should be borne in mind that on his way to + headquarters Baron Ricasoli stopped a few hours at Bologna, where he had a + long interview with Cialdini. Nor is this all; for the most important fact + I have to report to-day is, that whilst I am writing (five o’clock a.m.) + three corps of the Italian army are crossing the Oglio at different points—all + three acting together and ready for any occurrence. This reconnaissance en + force may, as you see, be turned into a regular battle should the + Austrians have crossed the Mincio with the main body of their army during + the course of last night. You see that the air around me smells enough of + powder to justify the expectation of events which are likely to exercise a + great influence over the cause of right and justice—the cause of + Italy. + </p> + <p> + MARCARIA, July 3, Evening. + </p> + <p> + Murray’s guide will save me the trouble of telling you what this little + and dirty hole of Marcaria is like. The river Oglio runs due south, not + far from the village, and cuts the road which from Bozzolo leads to + Mantua. It is about seven miles from Castellucchio, a town which, since + the peace of Villafranca, marked the Italian frontier in Lower Lombardy. + Towards this last-named place marched this morning the eleventh division + of the Italians under the command of General Angioletti, only a month ago + Minister of the Marine in Lamarmora’s Cabinet. Angioletti’s division of + the second corps was, in the case of an attack, to be supported by the + fourth and eighth, which had crossed the Oglio at Gazzuolo four hours + before the eleventh had started from the place from which I am now + writing. Two other divisions also moved in an oblique line from the upper + course of the above-mentioned river, crossed it on a pontoon bridge, and + were directed to maintain their communications with Angioletti’s on the + left, whilst the eighth and fourth would have formed its right. These five + divisions were the avant garde of the main body of the Italian army. I am + not in a position to tell you the exact line the army thus advancing from + the Oglio has followed, but I have been told that, in order to avoid the + possibility of repeating the errors which occurred in the action of the + 24th, the three corps d’armee have been directed to march in such a manner + as to enable them to present a compact mass should they meet the enemy. + Contrary to all expectations, Angioletti’s division was allowed to enter + and occupy Castellucchio without firing a shot. As its vanguard reached + the hamlet of Ospedaletto it was informed that the Austrians had left + Castellucchio during the night, leaving a few hussars, who, in their turn, + retired on Mantua as soon as they saw the cavalry Angioletti had sent to + reconnoitre both the country and the borough of Castellucchio. + </p> + <p> + News has just arrived here that General Angioletti has been able to push + his outposts as far as Rivolta on his left, and still farther forward on + his front towards Curtalone. Although the distance from Rivolta to Goito + is only five miles, Angioletti, I have been told, could not ascertain + whether the Austrians had crossed the Mincio in force. + </p> + <p> + What part both Cialdini and Garibaldi will play in the great struggle + nobody can tell. It is certain, however, that these two popular leaders + will not be idle, and that a battle, if fought, will assume the + proportions of an almost unheard of slaughter. + </p> + <p> + GENERAL HEADQUARTERS OF THE ITALIAN ARMY, TORRE MALIMBERTI, July 7, 1866. + </p> + <p> + Whilst the Austrian emperor throws himself at the feet of the ruler of + France—I was almost going to write the arbiter of Europe—Italy + and its brave army seem to reject disdainfully the idea of getting Venetia + as a gift of a neutral power. There cannot be any doubt as to the feeling + in existence since the announcement of the Austrian proposal by the + Moniteur being one of astonishment, and even indignation so far as Italy + herself is concerned. One hears nothing but expressions of this kind in + whatever Italian town he may be, and the Italian army is naturally anxious + that she should not be said to relinquish her task when Austrians speak of + having beaten her, without proving that she can beat them too. There are + high considerations of honour which no soldier or general would ever think + of putting aside for humanitarian or political reasons, and with these + considerations the Italian army is fully in accord since the 24th June. + The way, too, in which the Kaiser chose to give up the long-contested + point, by ignoring Italy and recognising France as a party to the Venetian + question, created great indignation amongst the Italians, whose papers + declare, one and all, that a fresh insult has been offered to the country. + This is the state of public opinion here, and unless the greatest + advantages are obtained by a premature armistice and a hurried treaty of + peace, it is likely to continue the same, not to the entire security of + public order in Italy. As a matter of course, all eyes are turned towards + Villa Pallavicini, two miles from here, where the king is to decide upon + either accepting or rejecting the French emperor’s advice, both of which + decisions are fraught with considerable difficulties and no little danger. + The king will have sought the advice of his ministers, besides which that + of Prussia will have been asked and probably given. The matter may be + decided one way or the other in a very short time, or may linger on for + days to give time for public anxiety and fears to be allayed and to calm + down. In the meantime, it looks as if the king and his generals had made + up their mind not to accept the gift. An attack on the Borgoforte + tete-de-pont on the right side of the Po, began on 5th at half-past three + in the morning, under the immediate direction of General Cialdini. The + attacking corps was the Duke of Mignano’s. All the day yesterday the gun + was heard at Torre Malamberti, as it was also this morning between ten and + eleven o’clock. Borgoforte is a fortress on the left side of the Po, + throwing a bridge across this river, the right end of which is headed by a + strong tete-de-pont, the object of the present attack. This work may be + said to belong to the quadrilateral, as it is only an advanced part of the + fortress of Mantua, which, resting upon its rear, is connected to + Borgoforte by a military road supported on the Mantua side by the Pietolo + fortress. The distance between Mantua and Borgoforte is only eleven + kilometres. The fete-de-poet is thrown upon the Po; its structure is of + recent date, and it consists of a central part and of two wings, called + Rocchetta and Bocca di Ganda respectively. The lock here existing is + enclosed in the Rocchetta work. + </p> + <p> + Since I wrote you my last letter Garibaldi has been obliged to desist from + the idea of getting possession of Bagolino, Sant’ Antonio, and Monte + Suello, after a fight which lasted four hours, seeing that he had to deal + with an entire Austrian brigade, supported by uhlans, sharp-shooters + (almost a battalion) and twelve pieces of artillery. These positions were + subsequently abandoned by the enemy, and occupied by Garibaldi’s + volunteers. In this affair the general received a slight wound in his left + leg, the nature of which, however, is so very trifling, that a few days + will be enough to enable him to resume active duties. It seems that the + arms of the Austrians proved to be much superior to those of the + Garibaldians, whose guns did very bad service. The loss of the latter + amounted to about 100 killed and 200 wounded, figures in which the + officers appear in great proportion, owing to their having been always at + the head of their men, fighting, charging, and encouraging their comrades + throughout. Captain Adjutant-Major Battino, formerly of the regular army, + died, struck by three bullets, while rushing on the Austrians with the + first regiment. On abandoning the Caffaro line, which they had reoccupied + after the Lodrone encounter—in consequence of which the Garibaldians + had to fall back because of the concentration following the battle of + Custozza—the Austrians have retired to the Lardara fortress, between + the Stabolfes and Tenara mountains, covering the route to Tione and + Trento, in the Italian Tyrol. The third regiment of volunteers suffered + most, as two of their companies had to bear the brunt of the terrible + Austrian fire kept up from formidable positions. Another fight was taking + place almost at the same time in the Val Camonico, i.e., north of the + Caffaro, and of Rocca d’Anfo, Garibaldi’s point d’appui. This encounter + was sustained in the same proportions, the Italians losing one of their + bravest and best officers in the person of Major Castellini, a Milanese, + commander of the second battalion of Lombardian bersaglieri. Although + these and Major Caldesi’s battalion had to fall back from Vezza, a strong + position was taken near Edalo, while in the rear a regiment kept Breno + safe. + </p> + <p> + Although still at headquarters only two days ago, Baron Ricasoli has been + suddenly summoned by telegram from Florence, and, as I hear, has just + arrived. This is undoubtedly brought about by the new complications, + especially as, at a council of ministers presided over by the baron, a + vote, the nature of which is as yet unknown, was taken on the present + state of affairs. As you know very well in England, Italy has great + confidence in Ricasoli, whose conduct, always far from obsequious to the + French emperor, has pleased the nation. He is thought to be at this moment + the right man in the right place, and with the great acquaintance he + possesses of Italy and the Italians, and with the co-operation of such an + honest man as General Lamarmora, Italy may be pronounced safe, both + against friends and enemies. + </p> + <p> + From what I saw this morning, coming back from the front, I presume that + something, and that something new perhaps, will be attempted to-morrow. So + far, the proposed armistice has had no effect upon the dispositions at + general headquarters, and did not stay the cannon’s voice. In the middle + of rumours, of hopes and fears, Italy’s wish to push on with the war has + as yet been adhered to by her trusted leaders. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0067" id="link2H_4_0067"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HEADQUARTERS OF THE FIRST ARMY CORPS, + </h2> + <h3> + PIADENA, July 8, 1866. + </h3> + <p> + As I begin writing you, no doubt can be entertained that some movement is + not only in contemplation at headquarters, but is actually provided to + take place to-day, and that it will probably prove to be against the + Austrian positions at Borgoforte, on the left bank of the Po. Up to this + time the tete-de-pout on the right side of the river had only been + attacked by General the Duke of Mignano’s guns. It would now, on the + contrary, be a matter of cutting the communications between Borgoforte and + Mantua, by occupying the lower part of the country around the latter + fortress, advancing upon the Valli Veronesi, and getting round the + quadrilateral into Venetia. While, then, waiting for further news to tell + us whether this plan has been carried into execution, and whether it will + be pursued, mindless of the existence of Mantua and Borgoforte on its + flanks, one great fact is already ascertained, that the armistice proposed + by the Emperor Napoleon has not been accepted, and that the war is to be + continued. The Austrians may shut themselves up in their strongholds, or + may even be so obliging as to leave the king the uncontested possession of + them by retreating in the same line as their opponents advance; the + pursuit, if not the struggle, the war, if not the battle, will be carried + on by the Italians. At Torre Malamberti, where the general headquarters + are, no end of general officers were to be seen yesterday hurrying in all + directions. I met the king, Generals Brignone, Gavone, Valfre, and + Menabrea within a few minutes of one another, and Prince Amadeus, who has + entirely recovered from his wound, had been telegraphed for, and will + arrive in Cremona to-day. No precise information is to be obtained + respecting the intentions of the Austrians, but it is to be hoped for the + Italian army, and for the credit of its generals, that more will be known + about them now than was known on the eve of the famous 24th of June, and + on its very morning. The heroism of the Italians on that memorable day + surpasses any possible idea that can be formed, as it did also surpass all + expectations of the country. Let me relate you a few out of many heroic + facts which only come to light when an occasion is had of speaking with + those who have been eyewitnesses of them, as they are no object of + magnified regimental—orders or, as yet, of well-deserved honours. + Italian soldiers seem to think that the army only did its duty, and that, + wherever Italians may fight, they will always show equal valour and + firmness. Captain Biraghi, of Milan, belonging to the general staff, + having in the midst of the battle received an order from General Lamarmora + for General Durando, was proceeding with all possible speed towards the + first army corps, which was slowly retreating before the superior forces + of the enemy and before the greatly superior number of his guns, when, + while under a perfect shower of grape and canister, he was all of a sudden + confronted by, an Austrian officer of cavalry who had been lying in wait + for the Italian orderly. The Austrian fires his revolver at Biraghi; and + wounds him in the arm. Nothing daunted, Biraghi assails him and makes him + turn tail; then, following in pursuit, unsaddles him, but has his own + horse shot down under him. Biraghi disentangles himself, kills his + antagonist, and jumps upon the latter’s horse. This, however, is thrown + down also in a moment by a cannon ball, so that the gallant captain has to + go back on foot, bleeding, and almost unable to walk. Talking of heroism, + of inimitable endurance, and strength of soul, what do you think of a man + who has his arm entirely carried away by a grenade, and yet keeps on his + horse, firm as a rock, and still directs his battery until hemorrhage—and + hemorrhage alone—strikes him down at last, dead! Such was the case + with a Neapolitan—Major Abate, of the artillery—and his name + is worth the glory of a whole army, of a whole war; and may only find a + fit companion in that of an officer of the eighteenth battalion of + bersaglieri, who, dashing at an Austrian flag-bearer, wrenches the + standard out of his hands with his left one, has it clean cut away by an + Austrian officer standing near, and immediately grapples it with his + right, until his own soldiers carry him away with his trophy! Does not + this sound like Greek history repeated—does it not look as if the + brave men of old had been born again, and the old facts renewed to tell of + Italian heroism? Another bersagliere—a Tuscan, by name Orlandi + Matteo, belonging to that heroic fifth battalion which fought against + entire brigades, regiments, and battalions, losing 11 out of its 16 + officers, and about 300 out of its 600 men—Orlandi, was wounded + already, when, perceiving an Austrian flag, he makes a great effort, + dashes at the officer, kills him, takes the flag, and, almost dying, gives + it over to his lieutenant. He is now in a ward of the San Domenico + Hospital in Brescia, and all who have learnt of his bravery will earnestly + hope that he may survive to be pointed out as one of the many who covered + themselves with fame on that day. If it is sad to read of death + encountered in the field by so many a patriotic and brave soldiers, it is + sadder still to learn that not a few of them were barbarously killed by + the enemy, and killed, too, when they were harmless, for they lay wounded + on the ground. The Sicilian colonel, Stalella, a son-in-law of Senator + Castagnetto, and a courageous man amongst the most courageous of men; was + struck in the leg by a bullet, and thrown down from his horse while + exciting his men to repulse the Austrians, which in great masses were + pressing on his thinned column. Although retreating, the regiment sent + some of his men to take him away, but as soon as he had been put on a + stretcher [he] had to be put down, as ten or twelve uhlans were galloping + down, obliging the men to hide themselves in a bush. When the uhlans got + near the colonel, and when they had seen him lying down in agony, they all + planted their lances in his body. + </p> + <p> + Is not this wanton cruelty—cruelty even unheard of cruelty that no + savage possesses? Still these are facts, and no one will ever dare to deny + them from Verona and Vienna, for they are known as much as it was known + and seen that the uhlans and many of the Austrian soldiers were drunk when + they began fighting, and that alighting from the trains they were provided + with their rations and with rum, and that they fought without their + haversacks. This is the truth, and nothing beyond it has to the honour of + the Italians been asserted, whether to the disgrace or credit of their + enemies; so that while denying that they ill-treat Austrian prisoners, + they are ready to state that theirs are well treated in Verona, without + thinking of slandering and calumniating as the Vienna papers have done. + </p> + <p> + This morning Prince Amadeus arrived in Cremona, where a most spontaneous + and hearty reception was given him by the population and the National + Guard. He proceeded at once by the shortest way to the headquarters, so + that his wish to be again at the front when something should be done has + been accomplished. This brave young man, and his worthy brother, Prince + Humbert, have won the applause of all Italy, which is justly proud of + counting her king and her princes amongst the foremost in the field. + </p> + <p> + I have just learned from a most reliable source that the Austrians have + mined the bridge of Borghetto on the Mincio, so that, should it be blown + up, the only two, those of Goito and Borghetto, would be destroyed, and + the Italians obliged to make provisional ones instead. I also hear that + the Venetian towns are without any garrison, and that most probably all + the forces are massed on two lines, one from Peschiera to Custozza and the + other behind the Adige. + </p> + <p> + You will probably know by this time that the garrison of Vienna had on the + 3rd been directed to Prague. The news we receive from Prussia is on the + whole encouraging, inasmuch as the greatly feared armistice has been + repulsed by King William. Some people here think that France will not be + too hard upon Italy for keeping her word with her ally, and that the brunt + of French anger or disapproval will have to be borne by Prussia. This is + the least she can expect, as you know! + </p> + <p> + It is probable that by to-morrow I shall be able to write you more about + the Italo-Austrian war of 1866. + </p> + <p> + GONZAGA, July 9, 1866. + </p> + <p> + I write you from a villa, only a mile distant from Gonzaga, belonging to + the family of the Counts Arrivabene of Mantua. The owners have never + reentered it since 1848, and it is only the fortune of war which has + brought them to see their beautiful seat of the Aldegatta, never, it is to + be hoped for them, to be abandoned again. It is, as you see, ‘Mutatum ab + illo.’ Onward have gone, then, the exiled patriots! onward will go the + nation that owns them! The wish of every one who is compelled to remain + behind is that the army, that the volunteers, that the fleet, should all + cooperate, and that they should, one and all, land on Venetian ground, to + seek for a great battle, to give the army back the fame it deserves, and + to the country the honour it possesses. The king is called upon to + maintain the word nobly given to avenge Novara, and with it the new + Austrian insulting proposal. All, it is said, is ready. The army has been + said to be numerous; if to be numerous and brave, means to deserve + victory, let the Italian generals prove what Italian soldiers are worthy + of. If they will fight, the country will support them with the boldest of + resolutions—the country will accept a discussion whenever the + Government, having dispersed all fears, will proclaim that the war is to + be continued till victory is inscribed on Italy’s shield. + </p> + <p> + As I am not far from Borgoforte, I am able to learn more than the mere + cannon’s voice can tell me, and so will give you some details of the + action against the tete-de-pont, which began, as I told you in one of my + former letters, on the 4th. In Gorgoforte there were about 1500 Austrians, + and, on the night from the 5th to the 6th, they kept up from their four + fortified works a sufficiently well-sustained fire, the object of which + was to prevent the enemy from posting his guns. This fire, however, did + not cause any damage, and the Italians were able to plant their batteries. + Early on the 6th, the firing began all along the line, the Italian + 16-pounders having been the first to open fire. The Italian right was + commanded by Colonel Mattei, the left by Colonel Bangoni, who did + excellent work, while the other wing was not so successful. The heaviest + guns had not yet arrived owing to one of those incidents always sure to + happen when least expected, so that the 40-pounders could not be brought + to bear against the forts until later in the day. The damage done to the + works was not great for the moment, but still the advantage had been + gained of feeling the strength of the enemy’s positions and finding the + right way to attack them. The artillerymen worked with great vigour, and + were only obliged to desist by an unexpected order which arrived about two + p.m. from General Cialdini. The attack was, however, resumed on the + following day, and the condition of the Monteggiana and Rochetta forts may + be pronounced precarious. As a sign of the times, and more especially of + the just impatience which prevails in Italy about the general direction of + the army movements, it may not be without importance to notice that the + Italian press has begun to cry out against the darkness in which + everything is enveloped, while the time already passed since the 24th June + tells plainly of inaction. It is remarked that the bitter gift made by + Austria of the Venetian provinces, and the suspicious offer of mediation + by France, ought to have found Italy in greatly different condition, both + as regards her political and military position. Italy is, on the contrary, + in exactly the same state as when the Archduke Albert telegraphed to + Vienna that a great success had been obtained over the Italian army. These + are facts, and, however strong and worthy of respect may be the reasons, + there is no doubt that an extraordinary delay in the resumption of + hostilities has occurred, and that at the present moment operations + projected are perfectly mysterious. Something is let out from time to time + which only serves to make the subsequent absence of news more and more + puzzling. For the present the first official relation of the unhappy fight + of the 24th June is published, and is accordingly anxiously scanned and + closely studied. It is a matter of general remark that no great military + knowledge is required to perceive that too great a reliance was placed + upon supposed facts, and that the indulgence of speculations and ideas + caused the waste of so much precious blood. The prudence characterising + the subsequent moves of the Austrians may have been caused by the effects + of their opponents’ arrangements, but the Italian commanders ought to have + avoided the responsibility of giving the enemy the option to move. + </p> + <p> + It is clear that to mend things the utterance of generous and patriotic + cries is not sufficient, and that it must be shown that the vigour of the + body is not at all surpassed by the vigour of the mind. It is also clear + that many lives might have been spared if there had been greater proofs of + intelligence on the part of those who directed the movement. + </p> + <p> + The situation is still very serious. Such an armistice as General von + Gablenz could humiliate himself enough to ask from the Prussians has been + refused, but another which the Emperor of the French has advised them to + accept might ultimately become a fact. For Italy, the purely Venetian + question could then also be settled, while the Italian, the national + question, the question of right and honour which the army prizes so much, + would still remain to be solved. + </p> + <p> + GONZAGA, July 12, 1866. + </p> + <p> + Travelling is generally said to be troublesome, but travelling with and + through brigades, divisions, and army corps, I can certify to be more so + than is usually agreeable. It is not that Italian officers or Italian + soldiers are in any way disposed to throw obstacles in your way; but they, + unhappily for you, have with them the inevitable cars with the inevitable + carmen, both of which are enough to make your blood freeze, though the + barometer stands very high. What with their indolence, what with their + number and the dust they made, I really thought they would drive me mad + before I should reach Casalmaggiore on my way from Torre Malamberti. I + started from the former place at three a.m., with beautiful weather, + which, true to tradition, accompanied me all through my journey. Passing + through San Giovanni in Croce, to which the headquarters of General + Pianell had been transferred, I turned to the right in the direction of + the Po, and began to have an idea of the wearisome sort of journey which I + would have to make up to Casalmaggiore. On both sides of the way some + regiments belonging to the rear division were still camped, and as I + passed it was most interesting to see how busy they were cooking their + ‘rancio,’ polishing their arms, and making the best of their time. The + officers stood leisurely about gazing and staring at me, supposing, as I + thought, that I was travelling with some part in the destiny of their + country. Here and there some soldiers who had just left the hospitals of + Brescia and Milan made their way to their corps and shook hands with their + comrades, from whom only illness or the fortune of war had made them part. + They seemed glad to see their old tent, their old drum, their old + colour-sergeant, and also the flag they had carried to the battle and had + not at any price allowed to be taken. I may state here, en passant, that + as many as six flags were taken from the enemy in the first part of the + day of Custozza, and were subsequently abandoned in the retreat, while of + the Italians only one was lost to a regiment for a few minutes, when it + was quickly retaken. This fact ought to be sufficient by itself to + establish the bravery with which the soldiers fought on the 24th, and the + bravery with which they will fight if, as they ardently wish; a new + occasion is given to them. + </p> + <p> + As long as I had only met troops, either marching or camping on the road, + all went well, but I soon found myself mixed with an interminable line of + cars and the like, forming the military and the civil train of the moving + army. Then it was that it needed as much patience to keep from jumping out + of one’s carriage and from chastising the carrettieri, as they would + persist in not making room for one, and being as dumb to one’s entreaties + as a stone. When you had finished with one you had to deal with another, + and you find them all as obstinate and as egotistical as they are from one + end of the world to the other, whether it be on the Casalmaggiore road or + in High Holborn. From time to time things seemed to proceed all right, and + you thought yourself free from further trouble, but you soon found out + your mistake, as an enormous ammunition car went smack into your path, as + one wheel got entangled with another, and as imperturbable Signor + Carrettiere evidently took delight at a fresh opportunity for stoppage, + inaction, indolence, and sleep. I soon came to the conclusion that Italy + would not be free when the Austrians had been driven away, for that + another and a more formidable foe—an enemy to society and comfort, + to men and horses, to mankind in general would have still to be beaten, + expelled, annihilated, in the shape of the carrettiere. If you employ him, + he robs you fifty times over; if you want him to drive quickly, he is sure + to keep the animal from going at all; if, worse than all, you never think + of him, or have just been plundered by him, he will not move an inch to + oblige you. Surely the cholera is not the only pestilence a country may be + visited with; and, should Cialdini ever go to Vienna, he might revenge + Novara and the Spielberg by taking with him the carrettieri of the whole + army. + </p> + <p> + At last Casalmaggiore hove in sight, and, when good fortune and the carmen + permitted, I reached it. It was time! No iron-plated Jacob could ever have + resisted another two miles’ journey in such company. At Casalmaggiore I + branched off. There were, happily, two roads, and not the slightest reason + or smallest argument were needed to make me choose that which my cauchemar + had not chosen. They were passing the river at Casalmaggiore. I went, of + course, for the same purpose, somewhere else. Any place was good enough—so + I thought, at least, then. New adventures, new miseries awaited me—some + carrettiere, or other, guessing that I was no friend of his, nor of the + whole set of them, had thrown the jattatura on me. + </p> + <p> + I alighted at the Colombina, after four hours’ ride, to give the horses + time to rest a little. The Albergo della Colombina was a great + disappointment, for there was nothing there that could be eaten. I decided + upon waiting most patiently, but most unlike a few cavalry officers, who, + all covered with dust, and evidently as hungry and as thirsty as they + could be, began to swear to their hearts’ content. In an hour some eggs + and some salame, a kind of sausage, were brought up, and quickly disposed + of. A young lieutenant of the thirtieth infantry regiment of the Pisa + brigade took his place opposite, and we were soon engaged in conversation. + He had been in the midst and worst part of the battle of Custozza, and had + escaped being taken prisoner by what seemed a miracle. He told me how, + when his regiment advanced on the Monte Croce position, which he + practically described to me as having the form of an English pudding, they + were fired upon by batteries both on their flanks and front. The + lieutenant added, however, rather contemptuously, that they did not even + bow before them, as the custom appears to be—that is, to lie down, + as the Austrians were firing very badly. The cross-fire got, however, so + tremendous that an order had to be given to keep down by the road to avoid + being annihilated. The assault was given, the whole range of positions was + taken, and kept too for hours, until the infallible rule of three to one, + backed by batteries, grape, and canister, compelled them to retreat, which + they did slowly and in order. It was then that their brigade commander, + Major General Rey de Villarey, who, though a native of Mentone, had + preferred remaining with his king from going over to the French after the + cession, turning to his son, who was also his aide-de-camp, said in his + dialect, ‘Now, my son, we must die both of us,’ and with a touch of the + spurs was soon in front of the line and on the hill, where three bullets + struck him almost at once dead. The horse of his son falling while + following, his life was spared. My lieutenant at this moment was so + overcome with hunger and fatigue that he fell down, and was thought to be + dead. He was not so, however, and had enough life to hear, after the fight + was over, the Austrian Jagers pass by, and again retire to their original + positions, where their infantry was lying down, not dreaming for one + moment of pursuing the Italians. Four of his soldiers—all + Neapolitans he heard coming in search of him, while the bullets still + hissed all round; and, as soon as he made a sign to them, they approached, + and took him on their shoulders back to where was what remained of the + regiment. It is highly creditable to Italian unity to hear an old + Piedmontese officer praise the levies of the new provinces, and the + lieutenant took delight in relating that another Neapolitan was in the + fight standing by him, and firing as fast as he could, when a shell having + burst near him, he disdainfully gave it a look, and did not even seek to + save himself from the jattatura. + </p> + <p> + The gallant lieutenant had unfortunately to leave at last, and I was + deprived of many an interesting tale and of a brave man’s company. I + started, therefore, for Viadana, where I purposed passing the Po, the left + bank of which the road was now following parallel with the stream. At + Viadana, however, I found no bridge, as the military had demolished what + existed only the day before, and so had to look out for in formation. As I + was going about under the porticoes which one meets in almost all the + villages in this neighbourhood, I was struck by the sight of an ancient + and beautiful piece of art—for so it was—a Venetian mirror of + Murano. It hung on the wall inside the village draper’s shop, and was + readily shown me by the owner, who did not conceal the pride he had in + possessing it. It was one of those mirrors one rarely meets with now, + which were once so abundant in the old princes’ castles and palaces. It + looked so deep and true, and the gilt frame was so light, and of such a + purity and elegance, that it needed all my resolution to keep from buying + it, though a bargain would not have been effected very easily. The mirror, + however, had to be abandoned, as Dosalo, the nearest point for crossing + the Po, was still seven miles distant. By this time the sun was out in all + its force, and the heat was by no means agreeable. Then there was dust, + too, as if the carrettieri had been passing in hundreds, so that the heat + was almost unbearable. At last the Dosalo ferry was reached, the road + leading to it was entered, and the carriage was, I thought, to be at once + embarked, when a drove of oxen were discovered to have the precedence; and + so I had to wait. This under such a sun, on a shadeless beach, and with + the prospect of having to stay there for two hours at least, was by no + means pleasant. It took three-quarters of an hour to put the oxen in the + boat, it took half an hour to get them on the other shore, and another + hour to have the ferry boat back. The panorama from the beach was + splendid, the Po appeared in all the mighty power of his waters, and as + you looked with the glass at oxen and trees on the other shore, they + appeared to be clothed in all the colours of the rainbow, and as if + belonging to another world. Several peasants were waiting for the boat + near me, talking about the war and the Austrians, and swearing they would, + if possible, annihilate some of the latter. I gave them the glass to look + with, and I imagined that they had never seen one before, for they thought + it highly wonderful to make out what the time was at the Luzzara Tower, + three miles in a straight line on the other side. The revolver, too, was a + subject of great admiration, and they kept turning, feeling, and staring + at it, as if they could not make out which way the cartridges were put in. + One of these peasants, however, was doing the grand with the others, and + once on the subject of history related to all who would hear how he had + been to St. Helena, which was right in the middle of Moscow, where it was + so very cold that his nose had got to be as large as his head. The poor + man was evidently mixing one night’s tale with that of the next one, a + tale probably heard from the old Sindaco, who is at the same time the + schoolmaster, the notary, and the highest municipal authority in the + place. + </p> + <p> + I started in the ferry boat with them at last. While crossing they got to + speak of the priests, and were all agreed, to put it in the mildest way, + in thinking extremely little of them, and only differed as to what + punishment they should like them to suffer. + </p> + <p> + On the side where we landed lay heaps of ammunition casks for the corps + besieging Borgoforte. Others were conveyed upon cars by my friends the + carrettieri, of whom it was decreed I should not be quit for some time to + come. Entering Guastalla I found only a few artillery officers, evidently + in charge of what we had seen carried along the route. Guastalla is a neat + little town very proud of its statue of Duke Ferrante Gonzaga, and the + Croce Rossa is a neat little inn, which may be proud of a smart young + waiter, who actually discovered that, as I wanted to proceed to Luzzara, a + few miles on, I had better stop till next morning, I did not take his + advice, and was soon under the gate of Luzzara, a very neat little place, + once one of the many possessions where the Gonzagas had a court, a palace, + and a castle. The arms over the archway may still be seen, and would not + be worth any notice but for a remarkable work of terracotta representing a + crown of pines and pine leaves in a wonderful state of preservation. The + whole is so artistically arranged and so natural, that one might believe + it to be one of Luca della Robbia’s works. Luzzara has also a great tower, + which I had seen in the distance from Dosalo, and the only albergo in the + place gives you an excellent Italian dinner. The wine might please one of + the greatest admirers of sherry, and if you are not given feather beds, + the beds are at least clean like the rooms themselves. Here, as it was + getting too dark, I decided upon stopping, a decision which gave me + occasion to see one of the finest sunsets I ever saw. As I looked from the + albergo I could see a gradation of colours, from the purple red to the + deepest of sea blue, rising like an immense tent from the dark green of + the trees and the fields, here and there dotted with little white houses, + with their red roofs, while in front the Luzzara Tower rose majestically + in the twilight. As the hour got later the colours deepened, and the lower + end of the immense curtain gradually disappeared, while the stars and the + planets began shining high above. A peasant was singing in a field near + by, and the bells of a church were chiming in the distance. Both seemed to + harmonise wonderfully. It was a scene of great loveliness. + </p> + <p> + At four a.m. I was up, and soon after on the road to Reggiolo, and then to + Gonzaga. Here the vegetation gets to be more luxuriant, and every inch of + ground contributes to the immense vastness of the whole. Nature is here in + full perfection, and as even the telegraphic wire hangs leisurely down + from tree to tree, instead of being stuck upon poles, you feel that the + romantic aspect of the place is too beautiful to be encroached upon. All + is peace, beauty, and happiness, all reveals to you that you are in Italy. + </p> + <p> + In Gonzaga, which only a few days ago belonged to the Austrians, the + Italian tricolour is out of every window. As the former masters retired + the new advanced; and when a detachment of Monferrato lancers entered the + old castle town the joy of the inhabitants seemed to be almost bordering + on delirium. The lancers soon left, however. The flag only remains. + </p> + <p> + July 11. + </p> + <p> + Cialdini began passing the Po on the 8th, and crossed at three points, + i.e., Carbonara, Carbonarola, and Follonica. Beginning at three o’clock in + the morning, he had finished crossing upon the two first pontoon bridges + towards midnight on the 9th. The bridge thrown up at Follonica was still + intact up to seven in the morning on the 10th, but the troops and the + military and the civil train that remained followed the Po without + crossing to Stellata, in the supposed direction of Ponte Lagoscura. + </p> + <p> + Yesterday guns were heard here at seven o’clock in the morning, and up to + eleven o’clock, in the direction of Legnano, towards, I think, the Adige. + The firing was lively, and of such a nature as to make one surmise that + battle had been given. Perhaps the Austrians have awaited Cialdini under + Legnano, or they have disputed the crossing of the Adige. Rovigo was + abandoned by the Austrians in the night of the 9th and 10th. They have + blown up the Rovigo and Boara fortresses, have destroyed the tete-de-pont + on the Adige, and burnt all bridges. They may now seek to keep by the left + side of this river up to Legnano, so as to get under the protection of the + quadrilateral, in which case, if Cialdini can cross the river in time, the + shock would be almost inevitable, and would be a reason for yesterday’s + firing. They may also go by rail to Padua, when they would have Cialdini + between them and the quadrilateral. In any case, if this general is quick, + or if they are not too quick for him, according to possible instructions, + a collision is difficult to be avoided. + </p> + <p> + Baron Ricasoli has left Florence for the camp, and all sorts of rumours + are afloat as to the present state of negotiations as they appear + unmistakably to exist. The opinions are, I think, divided in the high + councils of the Crown, and the country is still anxious to know the result + of this state of affairs. A splendid victory by Cialdini might at this + moment solve many a difficulty. As it is, the war is prosecuted everywhere + except by sea, for Garibaldi’s forces are slowly advancing in the Italian + Tyrol, while the Austrians wait for them behind the walls of Landaro and + Ampola. The Garibaldians’ advanced posts were, by the latest news, near + Darso. + </p> + <p> + The news from Prussia is still contradictory; while the Italian press is + unanimous in asking with the country that Cialdini should advance, meet + the enemy, fight him, and rout him if possible. Italy’s wishes are + entirely with him. + </p> + <p> + NOALE, NEAR TREVISO, July 17, 1866. + </p> + <p> + From Lusia I followed General Medici’s division to Motta, where I left it, + not without regret, however, as better companions could not easily be + found, so kind were the officers and jovial the men. They are now encamped + around Padua, and will to-morrow march on Treviso, where the Italian Light + Horse have already arrived, if I judge so from their having left Noale on + the 15th. From the right I hear that the advanced posts have proceeded as + far as Mira on the Brenta, twenty kilometres from Venice itself, and that + the first army corps is to concentrate opposite Chioggia. This corps has + marched from Ferrara straight on to Rovigo, which the forward movement of + the fourth, or Cialdini’s corps d’armee, had left empty of soldiers. + General Pianell has still charge of it, and Major-General Cadalini, + formerly at the head of the Siena brigade, replaces him in the command of + his former division. General Pianell has under him the gallant Prince + Amadeus, who has entirely recovered from his chest wound, and of whom the + brigade of Lombardian grenadiers is as proud as ever. They could not wish + for a more skilled commander, a better superior officer, and a more + valiant soldier. Thus the troops who fought on the 24th June are kept in + the second line, while the still fresh divisions under Cialdini march + first, as fast as they can. This, however, is of no avail. The Italian + outposts on the Piave have not yet crossed it, for the reason that they + must keep distances with their regiments, but will do so as soon as these + get nearer to the river. If it was not that this is always done in regular + warfare, they could beat the country beyond the Piave for a good many + miles without even seeing the shadow of an Austrian. To the simple + private, who does not know of diplomatic imbroglios and of political + considerations, this sudden retreat means an almost as sudden retracing of + steps, because he remembers that this manoeuvre preceded both the attacks + on Solferino and on Custozza by the Austrians. To the officer, however, it + means nothing else than a fixed desire not to face the Italian army any + more, and so it is to him a source of disappointment and despondency. He + cannot bear to think that another battle is improbable, and may be excused + if he is not in the best of humour when on this subject. This is the case + not only with the officers but with the volunteers, who have left their + homes and the comfort of their domestic life, not to be paraded at + reviews, but to be sent against the enemy. There are hundreds of these in + the regular army-in the cavalry especially, and the Aosta Lancers and the + regiment of Guides are half composed of them. If you listen to them, there + ought not to be the slightest doubt or hesitation as to crossing the + Isongo and marching upon Vienna. May Heaven see their wishes accomplished, + for, unless crushed by sheer force, Italy is quite decided to carry war + into the enemy’s country. + </p> + <p> + The decisions of the French government are looked for here with great + anxiety, and not a few men are found who predict them to be unfavourable + to Italy. Still, it is hard for every one to believe that the French + emperor will carry things to extremities, and increase the many + difficulties Europe has already to contend with. + </p> + <p> + To-day there was a rumour at the mess table that the Austrians had + abandoned Legnano, one of the four fortresses of the quadrilateral. I do + not put much faith in it at present, but it is not improbable, as we may + expect many strange things from the Vienna government. It would have been + much better for them, since Archduke Albert spoke in eulogistic terms of + the king, of his sons, and of his soldiers, while relating the action of + the 24th, to have treated with Italy direct, thus securing peace, and + perhaps friendship, from her. But the men who have ruled so despotically + for years over Italian subjects cannot reconcile themselves to the idea + that Italy has at last risen to be a nation, and they even take slyly an + opportunity to throw new insult into her face. You can easily see that the + old spirit is still struggling for empire; that the old contempt is still + trying to make light of Italians; and that the old Metternich ideas are + still fondly clung to. Does not this deserve another lesson? Does not this + need another Sadowa to quiet down for ever? Yes; and it devolves upon + Italy to do it. If so, let only Cialdini’s army alone, and the day may be + nigh at hand when the king may tell the country that the task has been + accomplished. + </p> + <p> + A talk on the present state of political affairs, and on the peculiar + position of Italy, is the only subject worth notice in a letter from the + camp. Everything else is at a standstill, and the movements of the fine + army Cialdini now disposes of, about 150,000 men, are no longer full of + interest. They may, perhaps, have some as regards an attack on Venice, + because Austrian soldiers are still garrisoning it, and will be obliged to + fight if they are assailed. It is hoped, if such is the case, that the + beautiful queen of the Adriatic will be spared a scene of devastation, and + that no new Haynau will be found to renew the deeds of Brescia and + Vicenza. + </p> + <p> + The king has not yet arrived, and it seems probable he will not come for + some time, until indeed the day comes for Italian troops to make their + triumphal entry into the city of the Doges. + </p> + <p> + The heat continues intense, and this explains the slowness in advancing. + As yet no sickness has appeared, and it must be hoped that the troops will + be healthy, as sickness tries the morale much more than half-a-dozen + Custozzas. + </p> + <p> + P.S.—I had finished writing when an officer came rushing into the + inn where I am staying and told me that he had just heard that an Italian + patrol had met an Austrian one on the road out of the village, and routed + it. This may or may not be true, but it was must curious to see how + delighted every one was at the idea that they had found ‘them’ at last. + They did not care much about the result of the engagement, which, as I + said, was reported to have been favourable. All that they cared about was + that they were close to the enemy. One cannot despair of an army which is + animated with such spirits. You would think, from the joy which brightens + the face of the soldiers you meet now about, that a victory had been + announced for the Italian arms. + </p> + <p> + DOLO, NEAR VENICE, July 20, 1866. + </p> + <p> + I returned from Noale to Padua last evening, and late in the night I + received the intimation at my quarters that cannon was heard in the + direction of Venice. It was then black as in Dante’s hell, and raining and + blowing with violence—one of those Italian storms which seem to + awake all the earthly and heavenly elements of creation. There was no + choice for it but to take to the saddle, and try to make for the front. No + one who has not tried it can fancy what work it is to find one’s way along + a road on which a whole corps d’amee is marching with an enormous materiel + of war in a pitch dark night. This, however, is what your special + correspondent was obliged to do. Fortunately enough, I had scarcely + proceeded as far as Ponte di Brenta when I fell in with an officer of + Cialdini’s staff, who was bound to the same destination, namely, Dolo. As + we proceeded along the road under a continuous shower of rain, our eyes + now and then dazzled by the bright serpent-like flashes of the lightning, + we fell in with some battalion or squadron, which advanced carefully, as + it was impossible for them as well as for us to discriminate between the + road and the ditches which flank it, for all the landmarks, so familiar to + our guides in the daytime, were in one dead level of blackness. So it was + that my companion and myself, after stumbling into ditches and out of + them, after knocking our horses’ heads against an ammunition car, or a + party of soldiers sheltered under some big tree, found ourselves, after + three hours’ ride, in this village of Dolo. By this time the storm had + greatly abated in its violence, and the thunder was but faintly heard now + and then at such a distance as to enable us distinctly to hear the roar of + the guns. Our horses could scarcely get through the sticky black mud, into + which the white suffocating dust of the previous days had been turned by + one night’s rain. We, however, made our way to the parsonage of the + village, for we had already made up our minds to ascend the steeple of the + church to get a view of the surrounding country and a better hearing of + the guns if possible. After a few words exchanged with the sexton—a + staunch Italian, as he told us he was—we went up the ladder of the + church spire. Once on the wooden platform, we could hear more distinctly + the boom of the guns, which sounded like the broadsides of a big vessel. + Were they the guns of Persano’s long inactive fleet attacking some of + Brondolo’s or Chioggia’s advanced forts? Were the guns those of some + Austrian man-of-war which had engaged an Italian ironclad; or were they + the ‘Affondatore,’ which left the Thames only a month ago, pitching into + Trieste? To tell the truth, although we patiently waited two long hours on + Dolo church spire, when both I and my companion descended we were not in a + position to solve either of these problems. We, however, thought then, and + still think, they were the guns of the Italian fleet which had attacked an + Austrian fort. + </p> + <p> + CIVITA VECCHIA, July 22, 1866. + </p> + <p> + Since the departure from this port of the old hospital ship ‘Gregeois’ + about a year ago, no French ship of war had been stationed at Civita + Vecchia; but on Wednesday morning the steam-sloop ‘Catinat,’ 180 men, cast + anchor in the harbour, and the commandant immediately on disembarking took + the train for Rome and placed himself in communication with the French + ambassador. I am not aware whether the Pontifical government had applied + for this vessel, or whether the sending it was a spontaneous attention on + the part of the French emperor, but, at any rate, its arrival has proved a + source of pleasure to His Holiness, as there is no knowing what may happen + In troublous times like the present, and it is always good to have a + retreat insured. + </p> + <p> + Yesterday it was notified in this port, as well as at Naples, that + arrivals from Marseilles would be, until further notice, subjected to a + quarantine of fifteen days in consequence of cholera having made its + appearance at the latter place. A sailing vessel which arrived from + Marseilles in the course of the day had to disembark the merchandise it + brought for Civita Vecchia into barges off the lazaretto, where the yellow + flag was hoisted over them. This vessel left Marseilles five days before + the announcement of the quarantine, while the ‘Prince Napoleon’ of + Valery’s Company, passenger and merchandise steamer, which left Marseilles + only one day before its announcement, was admitted this morning to free + pratique. Few travellers will come here by sea now. + </p> + <p> + MARSEILLES, July 24. + </p> + <p> + Accustomed as we have been of late in Italy to almost hourly bulletins of + the progress of hostilities, it is a trying condition to be suddenly + debarred of all intelligence by finding oneself on board a steamer for + thirty-six hours without touching at any port, as was my case in coming + here from Civita Vecchia on board the ‘Prince Napoleon.’ But, although + telegrams were wanting, discussions on the course of events were rife on + board among the passengers who had embarked at Naples and Civita Vecchia, + comprising a strong batch of French and Belgian priests returning from a + pilgrimage to Rome, well supplied with rosaries and chaplets blessed by + the Pope and facsimiles of the chains of St. Peter. Not much sympathy for + the Italian cause was shown by these gentlemen or the few French and + German travellers who, with three or four Neapolitans, formed the + quarterdeck society; and our Corsican captain took no pains to hide his + contempt at the dilatory proceedings of the Italian fleet at Ancona. We + know that the Prussian minister, M. d’Usedom, has been recently making + strenuous remonstrances at Ferrara against the slowness with which the + Italian naval and military forces were proceeding, while their allies, the + Prussians, were already near the gates of Vienna; and the conversation of + a Prussian gentleman on board our steamer, who was connected with that + embassy, plainly indicated the disappointment felt at Berlin at the rather + inefficacious nature of the diversion made in Venetia, and on the coast of + Istria by the army and navy of Victor Emmanuel. He even attributed to his + minister an expression not very flattering either to the future prospects + of Italy as resulting from her alliance with Prussia, or to the fidelity + of the latter in carrying out the terms of it. I do not know whether this + gentleman intended his anecdote to be taken cum grano salis, but I + certainly understood him to say that he had deplored to the minister the + want of vigour and the absence of success accompanying the operations of + the Italian allies of Prussia, when His Excellency replied: ‘C’est bien + vrai. Ils nous ont tromps; mais que voulez-vous y faire maintenant? Nous + aurons le temps de les faire egorger apres.’ + </p> + <p> + It is difficult to suppose that there should exist a preconceived + intention on the part of Prussia to repay the sacrifices hitherto made, + although without a very brilliant accompaniment of success, by the Italian + government in support of the alliance, by making her own separate terms + with Austria and leaving Italy subsequently exposed to the vengeance of + the latter, but such would certainly be the inference to be drawn from the + conversation just quoted. + </p> + <p> + It was only on arriving in the port of Marseilles, however, that the full + enmity of most of my travelling companions towards Italy and the Italians + was manifested. A sailor, the first man who came on board before we + disembarked, was immediately pounced upon for news, and he gave it as + indeed nothing less than the destruction, more or less complete, of the + Italian fleet by that of the Austrians. At this astounding intelligence + the Prussian burst into a yell of indignation. ‘Fools! blockheads! + miserables! Beaten at sea by an inferior force! Is that the way they mean + to reconquer Venice by dint of arms? If ever they do regain Venetia it + will be through the blood of our Brandenburghers and Pomeranians, and not + their own.’ During this tirade a little old Belgian in black, with the + chain of St. Peter at his buttonhole by way of watchguard, capered off to + communicate the grateful news to a group of his ecclesiastical + fellow-travellers, shrieking out in ecstasy: + </p> + <p> + ‘Rosses, Messieurs! Ces blagueurs d’Italiens ont ete rosses par mer, comme + ils avaient ete rosses par terre.’ Whereupon the reverend gentlemen + congratulated each other with nods, and winks, and smiles, and sundry + fervent squeezes of the hand. The same demonstrations would doubtless have + been made by the Neapolitan passengers had they belonged to the Bourbonic + faction, but they happened to be honest traders with cases of coral and + lava for the Paris market, and therefore they merely stood silent and + aghast at the fatal news, with their eyes and mouths as wide open as + possible. I had no sooner got to my hotel than I inquired for the latest + Paris journal, when the France was handed me, and I obtained confirmation + in a certain degree of the disaster to the Italian fleet narrated by the + sailor, although not quite in the same formidable proportions. + </p> + <p> + Before quitting the subject of my fellow-passengers on board the ‘Prince + Napoleon’ I must mention an anecdote related to me, respecting the state + of brigandage, by a Russian or German gentleman, who told me he was + established at Naples. He was complaining of the dangers he had + occasionally encountered in crossing in a diligence from Naples to Foggia + on business; and then, speaking of the audacity of brigands in general, he + told me that last year he saw with his own eyes; in broad daylight, two + brigands walking about the streets of Naples with messages from captured + individuals to their relations, mentioning the sums which had been + demanded for their ransoms. They were unarmed, and in the common peasants’ + dresses, and whenever they arrived at one of the houses to which they were + addressed for this purpose, they stopped and opened a handkerchief which + one of them carried in his hand, and took out an ear, examining whether + the ticket on it corresponded with the address of the house or the name of + the resident. There were six ears, all ticketed with the names of the + original owners in the handkerchief, which were gradually dispensed to + their families in Naples to stimulate: prompt payment of the required + ransoms. On my inquiring how it was that the police took no notice of such + barefaced operations, my informant told me that, previous to the arrival + of these brigand emissaries in town, the chief always wrote to the police + authorities warning them against interfering with them, as the messengers + were always followed by spies in plain clothes belonging to the band who + would immediately report any molestation they might encounter in the + discharge of their delicate mission, and the infallible result of such + molestation would be first the putting to death of all the hostages held + for ransom; and next, the summary execution of several members of + gendarmery and police force captured in various skirmishes by the + brigands, and held as prisoners of war. + </p> + <p> + Such audacity would seem incredible if we had not heard and read of so + many similar instances of late. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + A very doubtful benefit + Americans forgivingly remember, without mentioning + As becomes them, they do not look ahead + Charges of cynicism are common against all satirists + Fourth of the Georges + Here and there a plain good soul to whom he was affectionate + Holy images, and other miraculous objects are sold + It is well to learn manners without having them imposed on us + Men overweeningly in love with their creations + Must be the moralist in the satirist if satire is to strike + Not a page of his books reveals malevolence or a sneer + Petty concessions are signs of weakness to the unsatisfied + Statesman who stooped to conquer fact through fiction + The social world he looked at did not show him heroes + The exhaustion ensuing we named tranquillity + Utterance of generous and patriotic cries is not sufficient + We trust them or we crush them + We grew accustomed to periods of Irish fever +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0068" id="link2H_4_0068"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ON THE IDEA OF COMEDY AND OF THE USES OF THE COMIC SPIRIT {1} + </h2> + <p> + [This etext was prepared from the 1897 Archibald Constable and Company + edition by David Price] + </p> + <p> + Good Comedies are such rare productions, that notwithstanding the wealth + of our literature in the Comic element, it would not occupy us long to run + over the English list. If they are brought to the test I shall propose, + very reputable Comedies will be found unworthy of their station, like the + ladies of Arthur’s Court when they were reduced to the ordeal of the + mantle. + </p> + <p> + There are plain reasons why the Comic poet is not a frequent apparition; + and why the great Comic poet remains without a fellow. A society of + cultivated men and women is required, wherein ideas are current and the + perceptions quick, that he may be supplied with matter and an audience. + The semi-barbarism of merely giddy communities, and feverish emotional + periods, repel him; and also a state of marked social inequality of the + sexes; nor can he whose business is to address the mind be understood + where there is not a moderate degree of intellectual activity. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, to touch and kindle the mind through laughter, demands more than + sprightliness, a most subtle delicacy. That must be a natal gift in the + Comic poet. The substance he deals with will show him a startling + exhibition of the dyer’s hand, if he is without it. People are ready to + surrender themselves to witty thumps on the back, breast, and sides; all + except the head: and it is there that he aims. He must be subtle to + penetrate. A corresponding acuteness must exist to welcome him. The + necessity for the two conditions will explain how it is that we count him + during centuries in the singular number. + </p> + <p> + ‘C’est une etrange entreprise que celle de faire rire les honnetes gens,’ + Moliere says; and the difficulty of the undertaking cannot be + over-estimated. + </p> + <p> + Then again, he is beset with foes to right and left, of a character + unknown to the tragic and the lyric poet, or even to philosophers. + </p> + <p> + We have in this world men whom Rabelais would call agelasts; that is to + say, non-laughers; men who are in that respect as dead bodies, which if + you prick them do not bleed. The old grey boulder-stone that has finished + its peregrination from the rock to the valley, is as easily to be set + rolling up again as these men laughing. No collision of circumstances in + our mortal career strikes a light for them. It is but one step from being + agelastic to misogelastic, and the [Greek text which cannot be + reproduced], the laughter-hating, soon learns to dignify his dislike as an + objection in morality. + </p> + <p> + We have another class of men, who are pleased to consider themselves + antagonists of the foregoing, and whom we may term hypergelasts; the + excessive laughers, ever-laughing, who are as clappers of a bell, that may + be rung by a breeze, a grimace; who are so loosely put together that a + wink will shake them. + </p> + <p> + ‘... C’est n’estimer rien qu’estioner tout le monde,’ + </p> + <p> + and to laugh at everything is to have no appreciation of the Comic of + Comedy. + </p> + <p> + Neither of these distinct divisions of non-laughers and over-laughers + would be entertained by reading The Rape of the Lock, or seeing a + performance of Le Tartuffe. In relation to the stage, they have taken in + our land the form and title of Puritan and Bacchanalian. For though the + stage is no longer a public offender, and Shakespeare has been revived on + it, to give it nobility, we have not yet entirely raised it above the + contention of these two parties. Our speaking on the theme of Comedy will + appear almost a libertine proceeding to one, while the other will think + that the speaking of it seriously brings us into violent contrast with the + subject. + </p> + <p> + Comedy, we have to admit, was never one of the most honoured of the Muses. + She was in her origin, short of slaughter, the loudest expression of the + little civilization of men. The light of Athene over the head of Achilles + illuminates the birth of Greek Tragedy. But Comedy rolled in shouting + under the divine protection of the Son of the Wine-jar, as Dionysus is + made to proclaim himself by Aristophanes. Our second Charles was the + patron, of like benignity, of our Comedy of Manners, which began similarly + as a combative performance, under a licence to deride and outrage the + Puritan, and was here and there Bacchanalian beyond the Aristophanic + example: worse, inasmuch as a cynical licentiousness is more abominable + than frank filth. An eminent Frenchman judges from the quality of some of + the stuff dredged up for the laughter of men and women who sat through an + Athenian Comic play, that they could have had small delicacy in other + affairs when they had so little in their choice of entertainment. Perhaps + he does not make sufficient allowance for the regulated licence of plain + speaking proper to the festival of the god, and claimed by the Comic poet + as his inalienable right, or for the fact that it was a festival in a + season of licence, in a city accustomed to give ear to the boldest + utterance of both sides of a case. However that may be, there can be no + question that the men and women who sat through the acting of Wycherley’s + Country Wife were past blushing. Our tenacity of national impressions has + caused the word theatre since then to prod the Puritan nervous system like + a satanic instrument; just as one has known Anti-Papists, for whom + Smithfield was redolent of a sinister smoke, as though they had a later + recollection of the place than the lowing herds. Hereditary Puritanism, + regarding the stage, is met, to this day, in many families quite + undistinguished by arrogant piety. It has subsided altogether as a power + in the profession of morality; but it is an error to suppose it extinct, + and unjust also to forget that it had once good reason to hate, shun, and + rebuke our public shows. + </p> + <p> + We shall find ourselves about where the Comic spirit would place us, if we + stand at middle distance between the inveterate opponents and the + drum-and-fife supporters of Comedy: ‘Comme un point fixe fait remarquer + l’emportement des autres,’ as Pascal says. And were there more in this + position, Comic genius would flourish. + </p> + <p> + Our English idea of a Comedy of Manners might be imaged in the person of a + blowsy country girl—say Hoyden, the daughter of Sir Tunbelly Clumsy, + who, when at home, ‘never disobeyed her father except in the eating of + green gooseberries’—transforming to a varnished City madam; with a + loud laugh and a mincing step; the crazy ancestress of an accountably + fallen descendant. She bustles prodigiously and is punctually smart in her + speech, always in a fluster to escape from Dulness, as they say the dogs + on the Nile-banks drink at the river running to avoid the crocodile. If + the monster catches her, as at times he does, she whips him to a froth, so + that those who know Dulness only as a thing of ponderousness, shall fail + to recognise him in that light and airy shape. + </p> + <p> + When she has frolicked through her five Acts to surprise you with the + information that Mr. Aimwell is converted by a sudden death in the world + outside the scenes into Lord Aimwell, and can marry the lady in the light + of day, it is to the credit of her vivacious nature that she does not + anticipate your calling her Farce. Five is dignity with a trailing robe; + whereas one, two, or three Acts would be short skirts, and degrading. + Advice has been given to householders, that they should follow up the shot + at a burglar in the dark by hurling the pistol after it, so that if the + bullet misses, the weapon may strike and assure the rascal he has it. The + point of her wit is in this fashion supplemented by the rattle of her + tongue, and effectively, according to the testimony of her admirers. Her + wit is at once, like steam in an engine, the motive force and the warning + whistle of her headlong course; and it vanishes like the track of steam + when she has reached her terminus, never troubling the brains afterwards; + a merit that it shares with good wine, to the joy of the Bacchanalians. As + to this wit, it is warlike. In the neatest hands it is like the sword of + the cavalier in the Mall, quick to flash out upon slight provocation, and + for a similar office—to wound. Commonly its attitude is entirely + pugilistic; two blunt fists rallying and countering. When harmless, as + when the word ‘fool’ occurs, or allusions to the state of husband, it has + the sound of the smack of harlequin’s wand upon clown, and is to the same + extent exhilarating. Believe that idle empty laughter is the most + desirable of recreations, and significant Comedy will seem pale and + shallow in comparison. Our popular idea would be hit by the sculptured + group of Laughter holding both his sides, while Comedy pummels, by way of + tickling him. As to a meaning, she holds that it does not conduce to + making merry: you might as well carry cannon on a racing-yacht. Morality + is a duenna to be circumvented. This was the view of English Comedy of a + sagacious essayist, who said that the end of a Comedy would often be the + commencement of a Tragedy, were the curtain to rise again on the + performers. In those old days female modesty was protected by a fan, + behind which, and it was of a convenient semicircular breadth, the ladies + present in the theatre retired at a signal of decorum, to peep, covertly + askant, or with the option of so peeping, through a prettily fringed + eyelet-hole in the eclipsing arch. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ego limis specto sic per flabellum clanculum.’-TERENCE. + </p> + <p> + That fan is the flag and symbol of the society giving us our so-called + Comedy of Manners, or Comedy of the manners of South-sea Islanders under + city veneer; and as to Comic idea, vacuous as the mask without the face + behind it. + </p> + <p> + Elia, whose humour delighted in floating a galleon paradox and wafting it + as far as it would go, bewails the extinction of our artificial Comedy, + like a poet sighing over the vanished splendour of Cleopatra’s Nile-barge; + and the sedateness of his plea for a cause condemned even in his time to + the penitentiary, is a novel effect of the ludicrous. When the realism of + those ‘fictitious half-believed personages,’ as he calls them, had ceased + to strike, they were objectionable company, uncaressable as puppets. Their + artifices are staringly naked, and have now the effect of a painted face + viewed, after warm hours of dancing, in the morning light. How could the + Lurewells and the Plyants ever have been praised for ingenuity in + wickedness? Critics, apparently sober, and of high reputation, held up + their shallow knaveries for the world to admire. These Lurewells, Plyants, + Pinchwifes, Fondlewifes, Miss Prue, Peggy, Hoyden, all of them save + charming Milamant, are dead as last year’s clothes in a fashionable fine + lady’s wardrobe, and it must be an exceptionably abandoned Abigail of our + period that would look on them with the wish to appear in their likeness. + Whether the puppet show of Punch and Judy inspires our street-urchins to + have instant recourse to their fists in a dispute, after the fashion of + every one of the actors in that public entertainment who gets possession + of the cudgel, is open to question: it has been hinted; and angry + moralists have traced the national taste for tales of crime to the smell + of blood in our nursery-songs. It will at any rate hardly be questioned + that it is unwholesome for men and women to see themselves as they are, if + they are no better than they should be: and they will not, when they have + improved in manners, care much to see themselves as they once were. That + comes of realism in the Comic art; and it is not public caprice, but the + consequence of a bettering state. {2} The same of an immoral may be said + of realistic exhibitions of a vulgar society. + </p> + <p> + The French make a critical distinction in ce qui remue from ce qui emeut—that + which agitates from that which touches with emotion. In the realistic + comedy it is an incessant remuage—no calm, merely bustling figures, + and no thought. Excepting Congreve’s Way of the World, which failed on the + stage, there was nothing to keep our comedy alive on its merits; neither, + with all its realism, true portraiture, nor much quotable fun, nor idea; + neither salt nor soul. + </p> + <p> + The French have a school of stately comedy to which they can fly for + renovation whenever they have fallen away from it; and their having such a + school is mainly the reason why, as John Stuart Mill pointed out, they + know men and women more accurately than we do. Moliere followed the + Horatian precept, to observe the manners of his age and give his + characters the colour befitting them at the time. He did not paint in raw + realism. He seized his characters firmly for the central purpose of the + play, stamped them in the idea, and by slightly raising and softening the + object of study (as in the case of the ex-Huguenot, Duke de Montausier, + {3} for the study of the Misanthrope, and, according to St. Simon, the + Abbe Roquette for Tartuffe), generalized upon it so as to make it + permanently human. Concede that it is natural for human creatures to live + in society, and Alceste is an imperishable mark of one, though he is drawn + in light outline, without any forcible human colouring. Our English school + has not clearly imagined society; and of the mind hovering above + congregated men and women, it has imagined nothing. The critics who praise + it for its downrightness, and for bringing the situations home to us, as + they admiringly say, cannot but disapprove of Moliere’s comedy, which + appeals to the individual mind to perceive and participate in the social. + We have splendid tragedies, we have the most beautiful of poetic plays, + and we have literary comedies passingly pleasant to read, and occasionally + to see acted. By literary comedies, I mean comedies of classic + inspiration, drawn chiefly from Menander and the Greek New Comedy through + Terence; or else comedies of the poet’s personal conception, that have had + no model in life, and are humorous exaggerations, happy or otherwise. + These are the comedies of Ben Jonson, Massinger, and Fletcher. Massinger’s + Justice Greedy we can all of us refer to a type, ‘with fat capon lined’ + that has been and will be; and he would be comic, as Panurge is comic, but + only a Rabelais could set him moving with real animation. Probably Justice + Greedy would be comic to the audience of a country booth and to some of + our friends. If we have lost our youthful relish for the presentation of + characters put together to fit a type, we find it hard to put together the + mechanism of a civil smile at his enumeration of his dishes. Something of + the same is to be said of Bobadil, swearing ‘by the foot of Pharaoh’; with + a reservation, for he is made to move faster, and to act. The comic of + Jonson is a scholar’s excogitation of the comic; that of Massinger a + moralist’s. + </p> + <p> + Shakespeare is a well-spring of characters which are saturated with the + comic spirit; with more of what we will call blood-life than is to be + found anywhere out of Shakespeare; and they are of this world, but they + are of the world enlarged to our embrace by imagination, and by great + poetic imagination. They are, as it were—I put it to suit my present + comparison—creatures of the woods and wilds, not in walled towns, + not grouped and toned to pursue a comic exhibition of the narrower world + of society. Jaques, Falstaff and his regiment, the varied troop of Clowns, + Malvolio, Sir Hugh Evans and Fluellen—marvellous Welshmen!—Benedict + and Beatrice, Dogberry, and the rest, are subjects of a special study in + the poetically comic. + </p> + <p> + His Comedy of incredible imbroglio belongs to the literary section. One + may conceive that there was a natural resemblance between him and + Menander, both in the scheme and style of his lighter plays. Had + Shakespeare lived in a later and less emotional, less heroical period of + our history, he might have turned to the painting of manners as well as + humanity. Euripides would probably, in the time of Menander, when Athens + was enslaved but prosperous, have lent his hand to the composition of + romantic comedy. He certainly inspired that fine genius. + </p> + <p> + Politically it is accounted a misfortune for France that her nobles + thronged to the Court of Louis Quatorze. It was a boon to the comic poet. + He had that lively quicksilver world of the animalcule passions, the huge + pretensions, the placid absurdities, under his eyes in full activity; + vociferous quacks and snapping dupes, hypocrites, posturers, extravagants, + pedants, rose-pink ladies and mad grammarians, sonneteering marquises, + high-flying mistresses, plain-minded maids, inter-threading as in a loom, + noisy as at a fair. A simply bourgeois circle will not furnish it, for the + middle class must have the brilliant, flippant, independent upper for a + spur and a pattern; otherwise it is likely to be inwardly dull as well as + outwardly correct. Yet, though the King was benevolent toward Moliere, it + is not to the French Court that we are indebted for his unrivalled studies + of mankind in society. For the amusement of the Court the ballets and + farces were written, which are dearer to the rabble upper, as to the + rabble lower, class than intellectual comedy. The French bourgeoisie of + Paris were sufficiently quick-witted and enlightened by education to + welcome great works like Le Tartuffe, Les Femmes Savantes, and Le + Misanthrope, works that were perilous ventures on the popular + intelligence, big vessels to launch on streams running to shallows. The + Tartuffe hove into view as an enemy’s vessel; it offended, not Dieu mais + les devots, as the Prince de Conde explained the cabal raised against it + to the King. + </p> + <p> + The Femmes Savantes is a capital instance of the uses of comedy in + teaching the world to understand what ails it. The farce of the Precieuses + ridiculed and put a stop to the monstrous romantic jargon made popular by + certain famous novels. The comedy of the Femmes Savantes exposed the later + and less apparent but more finely comic absurdity of an excessive purism + in grammar and diction, and the tendency to be idiotic in precision. The + French had felt the burden of this new nonsense; but they had to see the + comedy several times before they were consoled in their suffering by + seeing the cause of it exposed. + </p> + <p> + The Misanthrope was yet more frigidly received. Moliere thought it dead. + ‘I cannot improve on it, and assuredly never shall,’ he said. It is one of + the French titles to honour that this quintessential comedy of the + opposition of Alceste and Celimene was ultimately understood and + applauded. In all countries the middle class presents the public which, + fighting the world, and with a good footing in the fight, knows the world + best. It may be the most selfish, but that is a question leading us into + sophistries. Cultivated men and women, who do not skim the cream of life, + and are attached to the duties, yet escape the harsher blows, make acute + and balanced observers. Moliere is their poet. + </p> + <p> + Of this class in England, a large body, neither Puritan nor Bacchanalian, + have a sentimental objection to face the study of the actual world. They + take up disdain of it, when its truths appear humiliating: when the facts + are not immediately forced on them, they take up the pride of incredulity. + They live in a hazy atmosphere that they suppose an ideal one. Humorous + writing they will endure, perhaps approve, if it mingles with pathos to + shake and elevate the feelings. They approve of Satire, because, like the + beak of the vulture, it smells of carrion, which they are not. But of + Comedy they have a shivering dread, for Comedy enfolds them with the + wretched host of the world, huddles them with us all in an ignoble + assimilation, and cannot be used by any exalted variety as a scourge and a + broom. Nay, to be an exalted variety is to come under the calm curious eye + of the Comic spirit, and be probed for what you are. Men are seen among + them, and very many cultivated women. You may distinguish them by a + favourite phrase: ‘Surely we are not so bad!’ and the remark: ‘If that is + human nature, save us from it!’ as if it could be done: but in the + peculiar Paradise of the wilful people who will not see, the exclamation + assumes the saving grace. + </p> + <p> + Yet should you ask them whether they dislike sound sense, they vow they do + not. And question cultivated women whether it pleases them to be shown + moving on an intellectual level with men, they will answer that it does; + numbers of them claim the situation. Now, Comedy is the fountain of sound + sense; not the less perfectly sound on account of the sparkle: and Comedy + lifts women to a station offering them free play for their wit, as they + usually show it, when they have it, on the side of sound sense. The higher + the Comedy, the more prominent the part they enjoy in it. Dorine in the + Tartuffe is common-sense incarnate, though palpably a waiting-maid. + Celimene is undisputed mistress of the same attribute in the Misanthrope; + wiser as a woman than Alceste as man. In Congreve’s Way of the World, + Millamant overshadows Mirabel, the sprightliest male figure of English + comedy. + </p> + <p> + But those two ravishing women, so copious and so choice of speech, who + fence with men and pass their guard, are heartless! Is it not preferable + to be the pretty idiot, the passive beauty, the adorable bundle of + caprices, very feminine, very sympathetic, of romantic and sentimental + fiction? Our women are taught to think so. The Agnes of the Ecole des + Femmes should be a lesson for men. The heroines of Comedy are like women + of the world, not necessarily heartless from being clear-sighted: they + seem so to the sentimentally-reared only for the reason that they use + their wits, and are not wandering vessels crying for a captain or a pilot. + Comedy is an exhibition of their battle with men, and that of men with + them: and as the two, however divergent, both look on one object, namely, + Life, the gradual similarity of their impressions must bring them to some + resemblance. The Comic poet dares to show us men and women coming to this + mutual likeness; he is for saying that when they draw together in social + life their minds grow liker; just as the philosopher discerns the + similarity of boy and girl, until the girl is marched away to the nursery. + Philosopher and Comic poet are of a cousinship in the eye they cast on + life: and they are equally unpopular with our wilful English of the hazy + region and the ideal that is not to be disturbed. + </p> + <p> + Thus, for want of instruction in the Comic idea, we lose a large audience + among our cultivated middle class that we should expect to support Comedy. + The sentimentalist is as averse as the Puritan and as the Bacchanalian. + </p> + <p> + Our traditions are unfortunate. The public taste is with the idle + laughers, and still inclines to follow them. It may be shown by an + analysis of Wycherley’s Plain Dealer, a coarse prose adaption of the + Misanthrope, stuffed with lumps of realism in a vulgarized theme to hit + the mark of English appetite, that we have in it the keynote of the Comedy + of our stage. It is Moliere travestied, with the hoof to his foot and hair + on the pointed tip of his ear. And how difficult it is for writers to + disentangle themselves from bad traditions is noticeable when we find + Goldsmith, who had grave command of the Comic in narrative, producing an + elegant farce for a Comedy; and Fielding, who was a master of the Comic + both in narrative and in dialogue, not even approaching to the presentable + in farce. + </p> + <p> + These bad traditions of Comedy affect us not only on the stage, but in our + literature, and may be tracked into our social life. They are the ground + of the heavy moralizings by which we are outwearied, about Life as a + Comedy, and Comedy as a jade, {4} when popular writers, conscious of + fatigue in creativeness, desire to be cogent in a modish cynicism: + perversions of the idea of life, and of the proper esteem for the society + we have wrested from brutishness, and would carry higher. Stock images of + this description are accepted by the timid and the sensitive, as well as + by the saturnine, quite seriously; for not many look abroad with their own + eyes, fewer still have the habit of thinking for themselves. Life, we know + too well, is not a Comedy, but something strangely mixed; nor is Comedy a + vile mask. The corrupted importation from France was noxious; a noble + entertainment spoilt to suit the wretched taste of a villanous age; and + the later imitations of it, partly drained of its poison and made + decorous, became tiresome, notwithstanding their fun, in the perpetual + recurring of the same situations, owing to the absence of original study + and vigour of conception. Scene v. Act 2 of the Misanthrope, owing, no + doubt, to the fact of our not producing matter for original study, is + repeated in succession by Wycherley, Congreve, and Sheridan, and as it is + at second hand, we have it done cynically—or such is the tone; in + the manner of ‘below stairs.’ Comedy thus treated may be accepted as a + version of the ordinary worldly understanding of our social life; at + least, in accord with the current dicta concerning it. The epigrams can be + made; but it is uninstructive, rather tending to do disservice. Comedy + justly treated, as you find it in Moliere, whom we so clownishly + mishandled, the Comedy of Moliere throws no infamous reflection upon life. + It is deeply conceived, in the first place, and therefore it cannot be + impure. Meditate on that statement. Never did man wield so shrieking a + scourge upon vice, but his consummate self-mastery is not shaken while + administering it. Tartuffe and Harpagon, in fact, are made each to whip + himself and his class, the false pietists, and the insanely covetous. + Moliere has only set them in motion. He strips Folly to the skin, displays + the imposture of the creature, and is content to offer her better + clothing, with the lesson Chrysale reads to Philaminte and Belise. He + conceives purely, and he writes purely, in the simplest language, the + simplest of French verse. The source of his wit is clear reason: it is a + fountain of that soil; and it springs to vindicate reason, common-sense, + rightness and justice; for no vain purpose ever. The wit is of such + pervading spirit that it inspires a pun with meaning and interest. {5} His + moral does not hang like a tail, or preach from one character incessantly + cocking an eye at the audience, as in recent realistic French Plays: but + is in the heart of his work, throbbing with every pulsation of an organic + structure. If Life is likened to the comedy of Moliere, there is no + scandal in the comparison. + </p> + <p> + Congreve’s Way of the World is an exception to our other comedies, his own + among them, by virtue of the remarkable brilliancy of the writing, and the + figure of Millamant. The comedy has no idea in it, beyond the stale one, + that so the world goes; and it concludes with the jaded discovery of a + document at a convenient season for the descent of the curtain. A plot was + an afterthought with Congreve. By the help of a wooden villain (Maskwell) + marked Gallows to the flattest eye, he gets a sort of plot in The Double + Dealer. {6} His Way of the World might be called The Conquest of a Town + Coquette, and Millamant is a perfect portrait of a coquette, both in her + resistance to Mirabel and the manner of her surrender, and also in her + tongue. The wit here is not so salient as in certain passages of Love for + Love, where Valentine feigns madness or retorts on his father, or Mrs. + Frail rejoices in the harmlessness of wounds to a woman’s virtue, if she + ‘keeps them from air.’ In The Way of the World, it appears less prepared + in the smartness, and is more diffused in the more characteristic style of + the speakers. Here, however, as elsewhere, his famous wit is like a + bully-fencer, not ashamed to lay traps for its exhibition, transparently + petulant for the train between certain ordinary words and the + powder-magazine of the improprieties to be fired. Contrast the wit of + Congreve with Moliere’s. That of the first is a Toledo blade, sharp, and + wonderfully supple for steel; cast for duelling, restless in the scabbard, + being so pretty when out of it. To shine, it must have an adversary. + Moliere’s wit is like a running brook, with innumerable fresh lights on it + at every turn of the wood through which its business is to find a way. It + does not run in search of obstructions, to be noisy over them; but when + dead leaves and viler substances are heaped along the course, its natural + song is heightened. Without effort, and with no dazzling flashes of + achievement, it is full of healing, the wit of good breeding, the wit of + wisdom. + </p> + <p> + ‘Genuine humour and true wit,’ says Landor, {7} ‘require a sound and + capacious mind, which is always a grave one. Rabelais and La Fontaine are + recorded by their countrymen to have been reveurs. Few men have been + graver than Pascal. Few men have been wittier.’ + </p> + <p> + To apply the citation of so great a brain as Pascal’s to our countryman + would be unfair. Congreve had a certain soundness of mind; of capacity, in + the sense intended by Landor, he had little. Judging him by his wit, he + performed some happy thrusts, and taking it for genuine, it is a surface + wit, neither rising from a depth nor flowing from a spring. + </p> + <p> + ‘On voit qu’il se travaille e dire de bons mots.’ + </p> + <p> + He drives the poor hack word, ‘fool,’ as cruelly to the market for wit as + any of his competitors. Here is an example, that has been held up for + eulogy: + </p> + <p> + WITWOUD: He has brought me a letter from the fool my brother, etc. etc. + </p> + <p> + MIRABEL: A fool, and your brother, Witwoud? + </p> + <p> + WITWOUD: Ay, ay, my half-brother. My half-brother he is; no nearer, upon + my honour. + </p> + <p> + MIRABEL: Then ‘tis possible he may be but half a fool. + </p> + <p> + By evident preparation. This is a sort of wit one remembers to have heard + at school, of a brilliant outsider; perhaps to have been guilty of + oneself, a trifle later. It was, no doubt, a blaze of intellectual + fireworks to the bumpkin squire, who came to London to go to the theatre + and learn manners. + </p> + <p> + Where Congreve excels all his English rivals is in his literary force, and + a succinctness of style peculiar to him. He had correct judgement, a + correct ear, readiness of illustration within a narrow range, in snapshots + of the obvious at the obvious, and copious language. He hits the mean of a + fine style and a natural in dialogue. He is at once precise and voluble. + If you have ever thought upon style you will acknowledge it to be a signal + accomplishment. In this he is a classic, and is worthy of treading a + measure with Moliere. The Way of the World may be read out currently at a + first glance, so sure are the accents of the emphatic meaning to strike + the eye, perforce of the crispness and cunning polish of the sentences. + You have not to look over them before you confide yourself to him; he will + carry you safe. Sheridan imitated, but was far from surpassing him. The + flow of boudoir Billingsgate in Lady Wishfort is unmatched for the vigour + and pointedness of the tongue. It spins along with a final ring, like the + voice of Nature in a fury, and is, indeed, racy eloquence of the elevated + fishwife. + </p> + <p> + Millamant is an admirable, almost a lovable heroine. It is a piece of + genius in a writer to make a woman’s manner of speech portray her. You + feel sensible of her presence in every line of her speaking. The + stipulations with her lover in view of marriage, her fine lady’s delicacy, + and fine lady’s easy evasions of indelicacy, coquettish airs, and playing + with irresolution, which in a common maid would be bashfulness, until she + submits to ‘dwindle into a wife,’ as she says, form a picture that lives + in the frame, and is in harmony with Mirabel’s description of her: + </p> + <p> + ‘Here she comes, i’ faith, full sail, with her fan spread, and her + streamers out, and a shoal of fools for tenders.’ + </p> + <p> + And, after an interview: + </p> + <p> + ‘Think of you! To think of a whirlwind, though ‘twere in a whirlwind, were + a case of more steady contemplation, a very tranquillity of mind and + mansion.’ + </p> + <p> + There is a picturesqueness, as of Millamant and no other, in her voice, + when she is encouraged to take Mirabel by Mrs. Fainall, who is ‘sure she + has a mind to him’: + </p> + <p> + MILLAMANT: Are you? I think I have—and the horrid man looks as if he + thought so too, etc. etc. + </p> + <p> + One hears the tones, and sees the sketch and colour of the whole scene in + reading it. + </p> + <p> + Celimene is behind Millamant in vividness. An air of bewitching + whimsicality hovers over the graces of this Comic heroine, like the lively + conversational play of a beautiful mouth. + </p> + <p> + But in wit she is no rival of Celimene. What she utters adds to her + personal witchery, and is not further memorable. She is a flashing + portrait, and a type of the superior ladies who do not think, not of those + who do. In representing a class, therefore, it is a lower class, in the + proportion that one of Gainsborough’s full-length aristocratic women is + below the permanent impressiveness of a fair Venetian head. + </p> + <p> + Millamant side by side with Celimene is an example of how far the + realistic painting of a character can be carried to win our favour; and of + where it falls short. Celimene is a woman’s mind in movement, armed with + an ungovernable wit; with perspicacious clear eyes for the world, and a + very distinct knowledge that she belongs to the world, and is most at home + in it. She is attracted to Alceste by her esteem for his honesty; she + cannot avoid seeing where the good sense of the man is diseased. + </p> + <p> + Rousseau, in his letter to D’Alembert on the subject of the Misanthrope, + discusses the character of Alceste, as though Moliere had put him forth + for an absolute example of misanthropy; whereas Alceste is only a + misanthrope of the circle he finds himself placed in: he has a touching + faith in the virtue residing in the country, and a critical love of sweet + simpleness. Nor is he the principal person of the comedy to which he gives + a name. He is only passively comic. Celimene is the active spirit. While + he is denouncing and railing, the trial is imposed upon her to make the + best of him, and control herself, as much as a witty woman, eagerly + courted, can do. By appreciating him she practically confesses her + faultiness, and she is better disposed to meet him half.way than he is to + bend an inch: only she is une ame de vingt ans, the world is pleasant, and + if the gilded flies of the Court are silly, uncompromising fanatics have + their ridiculous features as well. Can she abandon the life they make + agreeable to her, for a man who will not be guided by the common sense of + his class; and who insists on plunging into one extreme—equal to + suicide in her eyes—to avoid another? That is the comic question of + the Misanthrope. Why will he not continue to mix with the world smoothly, + appeased by the flattery of her secret and really sincere preference of + him, and taking his revenge in satire of it, as she does from her own not + very lofty standard, and will by and by do from his more exalted one? + </p> + <p> + Celimene is worldliness: Alceste is unworldliness. It does not quite imply + unselfishness; and that is perceived by her shrewd head. Still he is a + very uncommon figure in her circle, and she esteems him, l’homme aux + rubans verts, ‘who sometimes diverts but more often horribly vexes her,’ + as she can say of him when her satirical tongue is on the run. Unhappily + the soul of truth in him, which wins her esteem, refuses to be tamed, or + silent, or unsuspicious, and is the perpetual obstacle to their good + accord. He is that melancholy person, the critic of everybody save + himself; intensely sensitive to the faults of others, wounded by them; in + love with his own indubitable honesty, and with his ideal of the simpler + form of life befitting it: qualities which constitute the satirist. He is + a Jean Jacques of the Court. His proposal to Celimene when he pardons her, + that she should follow him in flying humankind, and his frenzy of + detestation of her at her refusal, are thoroughly in the mood of Jean + Jacques. He is an impracticable creature of a priceless virtue; but + Celimene may feel that to fly with him to the desert: that is from the + Court to the country + </p> + <p> + ‘Ou d’etre homme d’honneur on ait la liberte,’ + </p> + <p> + she is likely to find herself the companion of a starving satirist, like + that poor princess who ran away with the waiting-man, and when both were + hungry in the forest, was ordered to give him flesh. She is a fieffee + coquette, rejoicing in her wit and her attractions, and distinguished by + her inclination for Alceste in the midst of her many other lovers; only + she finds it hard to cut them off—what woman with a train does not?—and + when the exposure of her naughty wit has laid her under their rebuke, she + will do the utmost she can: she will give her hand to honesty, but she + cannot quite abandon worldliness. She would be unwise if she did. + </p> + <p> + The fable is thin. Our pungent contrivers of plots would see no indication + of life in the outlines. The life of the comedy is in the idea. As with + the singing of the sky-lark out of sight, you must love the bird to be + attentive to the song, so in this highest flight of the Comic Muse, you + must love pure Comedy warmly to understand the Misanthrope: you must be + receptive of the idea of Comedy. And to love Comedy you must know the real + world, and know men and women well enough not to expect too much of them, + though you may still hope for good. + </p> + <p> + Menander wrote a comedy called Misogynes, said to have been the most + celebrated of his works. This misogynist is a married man, according to + the fragment surviving, and is a hater of women through hatred of his + wife. He generalizes upon them from the example of this lamentable adjunct + of his fortunes, and seems to have got the worst of it in the contest with + her, which is like the issue in reality, in the polite world. He seems + also to have deserved it, which may be as true to the copy. But we are + unable to say whether the wife was a good voice of her sex: or how far + Menander in this instance raised the idea of woman from the mire it was + plunged into by the comic poets, or rather satiric dramatists, of the + middle period of Greek Comedy preceding him and the New Comedy, who + devoted their wit chiefly to the abuse, and for a diversity, to the eulogy + of extra-mural ladies of conspicuous fame. Menander idealized them without + purposely elevating. He satirized a certain Thais, and his Thais of the + Eunuchus of Terence is neither professionally attractive nor repulsive; + his picture of the two Andrians, Chrysis and her sister, is nowhere to be + matched for tenderness. But the condition of honest women in his day did + not permit of the freedom of action and fencing dialectic of a Celimene, + and consequently it is below our mark of pure Comedy. + </p> + <p> + Sainte-Beuve conjures up the ghost of Menander, saying: For the love of me + love Terence. It is through love of Terence that moderns are able to love + Menander; and what is preserved of Terence has not apparently given us the + best of the friend of Epicurus. [Greek text which cannot be reproduced] + the lover taken in horror, and [Greek text] the damsel shorn of her locks, + have a promising sound for scenes of jealousy and a too masterful display + of lordly authority, leading to regrets, of the kind known to intemperate + men who imagined they were fighting with the weaker, as the fragments + indicate. + </p> + <p> + Of the six comedies of Terence, four are derived from Menander; two, the + Hecyra and the Phormio, from Apollodorus. These two are inferior in comic + action and the peculiar sweetness of Menander to the Andria, the Adelphi, + the Heautontimorumenus, and the Eunuchus: but Phormio is a more dashing + and amusing convivial parasite than the Gnatho of the last-named comedy. + There were numerous rivals of whom we know next to nothing—except by + the quotations of Athenaeus and Plutarch, and the Greek grammarians who + cited them to support a dictum—in this as in the preceding periods + of comedy in Athens, for Menander’s plays are counted by many scores, and + they were crowned by the prize only eight times. The favourite poet with + critics, in Greece as in Rome, was Menander; and if some of his rivals + here and there surpassed him in comic force, and out-stripped him in + competition by an appositeness to the occasion that had previously in the + same way deprived the genius of Aristophanes of its due reward in Clouds + and Birds, his position as chief of the comic poets of his age was + unchallenged. Plutarch very unnecessarily drags Aristophanes into a + comparison with him, to the confusion of the older poet. Their aims, the + matter they dealt in, and the times, were quite dissimilar. But it is no + wonder that Plutarch, writing when Athenian beauty of style was the + delight of his patrons, should rank Menander at the highest. In what + degree of faithfulness Terence copied Menander, whether, as he states of + the passage in the Adelphi taken from Diphilus, verbum de verbo in the + lovelier scenes—the description of the last words of the dying + Andrian, and of her funeral, for instance—remains conjectural. For + us Terence shares with his master the praise of an amenity that is like + Elysian speech, equable and ever gracious; like the face of the Andrian’s + young sister: + </p> + <p> + ‘Adeo modesto, adeo venusto, ut nihil supra.’ + </p> + <p> + The celebrated ‘flens quam familiariter,’ of which the closest rendering + grounds hopelessly on harsh prose, to express the sorrowful confidingness + of a young girl who has lost her sister and dearest friend, and has but + her lover left to her; ‘she turned and flung herself on his bosom, weeping + as though at home there’: this our instinct tells us must be Greek, though + hardly finer in Greek. Certain lines of Terence, compared with the + original fragments, show that he embellished them; but his taste was too + exquisite for him to do other than devote his genius to the honest + translation of such pieces as the above. Menander, then; with him, through + the affinity of sympathy, Terence; and Shakespeare and Moliere have this + beautiful translucency of language: and the study of the comic poets might + be recommended, if for that only. + </p> + <p> + A singular ill fate befell the writings of Menander. What we have of him + in Terence was chosen probably to please the cultivated Romans; {8} and is + a romantic play with a comic intrigue, obtained in two instances, the + Andria and the Eunuchus, by rolling a couple of his originals into one. + The titles of certain of the lost plays indicate the comic illumining + character; a Self-pitier, a Self-chastiser, an Ill-tempered man, a + Superstitious, an Incredulous, etc., point to suggestive domestic themes. + </p> + <p> + Terence forwarded manuscript translations from Greece, that suffered + shipwreck; he, who could have restored the treasure, died on the way home. + The zealots of Byzantium completed the work of destruction. So we have the + four comedies of Terence, numbering six of Menander, with a few sketches + of plots—one of them, the Thesaurus, introduces a miser, whom we + should have liked to contrast with Harpagon—and a multitude of small + fragments of a sententious cast, fitted for quotation. Enough remains to + make his greatness felt. + </p> + <p> + Without undervaluing other writers of Comedy, I think it may be said that + Menander and Moliere stand alone specially as comic poets of the feelings + and the idea. In each of them there is a conception of the Comic that + refines even to pain, as in the Menedemus of the Heautontimorumenus, and + in the Misanthrope. Menander and Moliere have given the principal types to + Comedy hitherto. The Micio and Demea of the Adelphi, with their opposing + views of the proper management of youth, are still alive; the Sganarelles + and Arnolphes of the Ecole des Maris and the Ecole des Femmes, are not all + buried. Tartuffe is the father of the hypocrites; Orgon of the dupes; + Thraso, of the braggadocios; Alceste of the ‘Manlys’; Davus and Syrus of + the intriguing valets, the Scapins and Figaros. Ladies that soar in the + realms of Rose-Pink, whose language wears the nodding plumes of + intellectual conceit, are traceable to Philaminte and Belise of the Femmes + Savantes: and the mordant witty women have the tongue of Celimene. The + reason is, that these two poets idealized upon life: the foundation of + their types is real and in the quick, but they painted with spiritual + strength, which is the solid in Art. + </p> + <p> + The idealistic conceptions of Comedy gives breadth and opportunities of + daring to Comic genius, and helps to solve the difficulties it creates. + How, for example, shall an audience be assured that an evident and + monstrous dupe is actually deceived without being an absolute fool? In Le + Tartuffe the note of high Comedy strikes when Orgon on his return home + hears of his idol’s excellent appetite. ‘Le pauvre homme!’ he exclaims. He + is told that the wife of his bosom has been unwell. ‘Et Tartuffe?’ he + asks, impatient to hear him spoken of, his mind suffused with the thought + of Tartuffe, crazy with tenderness, and again he croons, ‘Le pauvre + homme!’ It is the mother’s cry of pitying delight at a nurse’s recital of + the feats in young animal gluttony of her cherished infant. After this + masterstroke of the Comic, you not only put faith in Orgon’s roseate + prepossession, you share it with him by comic sympathy, and can listen + with no more than a tremble of the laughing muscles to the instance he + gives of the sublime humanity of Tartuffe: + </p> + <p> + ‘Un rien presque suffit pour le scandaliser, Jusque-le, qu’il se vint + l’autre jour accuser D’avoir pris une puce en faisant sa priere, Et de + l’avoir tuee avec trop de colere.’ + </p> + <p> + And to have killed it too wrathfully! Translating Moliere is like humming + an air one has heard performed by an accomplished violinist of the pure + tones without flourish. + </p> + <p> + Orgon, awakening to find another dupe in Madame Pernelle, incredulous of + the revelations which have at last opened his own besotted eyes, is a + scene of the double Comic, vivified by the spell previously cast on the + mind. There we feel the power of the poet’s creation; and in the sharp + light of that sudden turn the humanity is livelier than any realistic work + can make it. + </p> + <p> + Italian Comedy gives many hints for a Tartuffe; but they may be found in + Boccaccio, as well as in Machiavelli’s Mandragola. The Frate Timoteo of + this piece is only a very oily friar, compliantly assisting an intrigue + with ecclesiastical sophisms (to use the mildest word) for payment. Frate + Timoteo has a fine Italian priestly pose. + </p> + <p> + DONNA: Credete voi, che’l Turco passi questo anno in Italia? + </p> + <p> + F. TIM.: Se voi non fate orazione, si. + </p> + <p> + Priestly arrogance and unctuousness, and trickeries and casuistries, + cannot be painted without our discovering a likeness in the long Italian + gallery. Goldoni sketched the Venetian manners of the decadence of the + Republic with a French pencil, and was an Italian Scribe in style. + </p> + <p> + The Spanish stage is richer in such Comedies as that which furnished the + idea of the Menteur to Corneille. But you must force yourself to believe + that this liar is not forcing his vein when he piles lie upon lie. There + is no preceding touch to win the mind to credulity. Spanish Comedy is + generally in sharp outline, as of skeletons; in quick movement, as of + marionnettes. The Comedy might be performed by a troop of the corps de + ballet; and in the recollection of the reading it resolves to an animated + shuffle of feet. It is, in fact, something other than the true idea of + Comedy. Where the sexes are separated, men and women grow, as the + Portuguese call it, affaimados of one another, famine-stricken; and all + the tragic elements are on the stage. Don Juan is a comic character that + sends souls flying: nor does the humour of the breaking of a dozen women’s + hearts conciliate the Comic Muse with the drawing of blood. + </p> + <p> + German attempts at Comedy remind one vividly of Heine’s image of his + country in the dancing of Atta Troll. Lessing tried his hand at it, with a + sobering effect upon readers. The intention to produce the reverse effect + is just visible, and therein, like the portly graces of the poor old + Pyrenean Bear poising and twirling on his right hind-leg and his left, + consists the fun. Jean Paul Richter gives the best edition of the German + Comic in the contrast of Siebenkas with his Lenette. A light of the Comic + is in Goethe; enough to complete the splendid figure of the man, but no + more. + </p> + <p> + The German literary laugh, like the timed awakenings of their Barbarossa + in the hollows of the Untersberg, is infrequent, and rather monstrous—never + a laugh of men and women in concert. It comes of unrefined abstract fancy, + grotesque or grim, or gross, like the peculiar humours of their little + earthmen. Spiritual laughter they have not yet attained to: sentimentalism + waylays them in the flight. Here and there a Volkslied or Marchen shows a + national aptitude for stout animal laughter; and we see that the + literature is built on it, which is hopeful so far; but to enjoy it, to + enter into the philosophy of the Broad Grin, that seems to hesitate + between the skull and the embryo, and reaches its perfection in breadth + from the pulling of two square fingers at the corners of the mouth, one + must have aid of ‘the good Rhine wine,’ and be of German blood unmixed + besides. This treble-Dutch lumbersomeness of the Comic spirit is of itself + exclusive of the idea of Comedy, and the poor voice allowed to women in + German domestic life will account for the absence of comic dialogues + reflecting upon life in that land. I shall speak of it again in the second + section of this lecture. + </p> + <p> + Eastward you have total silence of Comedy among a people intensely + susceptible to laughter, as the Arabian Nights will testify. Where the + veil is over women’s-faces, you cannot have society, without which the + senses are barbarous and the Comic spirit is driven to the gutters of + grossness to slake its thirst. Arabs in this respect are worse than + Italians—much worse than Germans; just in the degree that their + system of treating women is worse. + </p> + <p> + M. Saint-Marc Girardin, the excellent French essayist and master of + critical style, tells of a conversation he had once with an Arab gentleman + on the topic of the different management of these difficult creatures in + Orient and in Occident: and the Arab spoke in praise of many good results + of the greater freedom enjoyed by Western ladies, and the charm of + conversing with them. He was questioned why his countrymen took no + measures to grant them something of that kind of liberty. He jumped out of + his individuality in a twinkling, and entered into the sentiments of his + race, replying, from the pinnacle of a splendid conceit, with affected + humility of manner: ‘YOU can look on them without perturbation—but + WE!’... And after this profoundly comic interjection, he added, in deep + tones, ‘The very face of a woman!’ Our representative of temperate notions + demurely consented that the Arab’s pride of inflammability should insist + on the prudery of the veil as the civilizing medium of his race. + </p> + <p> + There has been fun in Bagdad. But there never will be civilization where + Comedy is not possible; and that comes of some degree of social equality + of the sexes. I am not quoting the Arab to exhort and disturb the + somnolent East; rather for cultivated women to recognize that the Comic + Muse is one of their best friends. They are blind to their interests in + swelling the ranks of the sentimentalists. Let them look with their + clearest vision abroad and at home. They will see that where they have no + social freedom, Comedy is absent: where they are household drudges, the + form of Comedy is primitive: where they are tolerably independent, but + uncultivated, exciting melodrama takes its place and a sentimental version + of them. Yet the Comic will out, as they would know if they listened to + some of the private conversations of men whose minds are undirected by the + Comic Muse: as the sentimental man, to his astonishment, would know + likewise, if he in similar fashion could receive a lesson. But where women + are on the road to an equal footing with men, in attainments and in + liberty—in what they have won for themselves, and what has been + granted them by a fair civilization—there, and only waiting to be + transplanted from life to the stage, or the novel, or the poem, pure + Comedy flourishes, and is, as it would help them to be, the sweetest of + diversions, the wisest of delightful companions. + </p> + <p> + Now, to look about us in the present time, I think it will be acknowledged + that in neglecting the cultivation of the Comic idea, we are losing the + aid of a powerful auxiliar. You see Folly perpetually sliding into new + shapes in a society possessed of wealth and leisure, with many whims, many + strange ailments and strange doctors. Plenty of common-sense is in the + world to thrust her back when she pretends to empire. But the first-born + of common-sense, the vigilant Comic, which is the genius of thoughtful + laughter, which would readily extinguish her at the outset, is not serving + as a public advocate. + </p> + <p> + You will have noticed the disposition of common-sense, under pressure of + some pertinacious piece of light-headedness, to grow impatient and angry. + That is a sign of the absence, or at least of the dormancy, of the Comic + idea. For Folly is the natural prey of the Comic, known to it in all her + transformations, in every disguise; and it is with the springing delight + of hawk over heron, hound after fox, that it gives her chase, never + fretting, never tiring, sure of having her, allowing her no rest. + </p> + <p> + Contempt is a sentiment that cannot be entertained by comic intelligence. + What is it but an excuse to be idly minded, or personally lofty, or + comfortably narrow, not perfectly humane? If we do not feign when we say + that we despise Folly, we shut the brain. There is a disdainful attitude + in the presence of Folly, partaking of the foolishness to Comic + perception: and anger is not much less foolish than disdain. The struggle + we have to conduct is essence against essence. Let no one doubt of the + sequel when this emanation of what is firmest in us is launched to strike + down the daughter of Unreason and Sentimentalism: such being Folly’s + parentage, when it is respectable. + </p> + <p> + Our modern system of combating her is too long defensive, and carried on + too ploddingly with concrete engines of war in the attack. She has time to + get behind entrenchments. She is ready to stand a siege, before the + heavily armed man of science and the writer of the leading article or + elaborate essay have primed their big guns. It should be remembered that + she has charms for the multitude; and an English multitude seeing her make + a gallant fight of it will be half in love with her, certainly willing to + lend her a cheer. Benevolent subscriptions assist her to hire her own man + of science, her own organ in the Press. If ultimately she is cast out and + overthrown, she can stretch a finger at gaps in our ranks. She can say + that she commanded an army and seduced men, whom we thought sober men and + safe, to act as her lieutenants. We learn rather gloomily, after she has + flashed her lantern, that we have in our midst able men and men with minds + for whom there is no pole-star in intellectual navigation. Comedy, or the + Comic element, is the specific for the poison of delusion while Folly is + passing from the state of vapour to substantial form. + </p> + <p> + O for a breath of Aristophanes, Rabelais, Voltaire, Cervantes, Fielding, + Moliere! These are spirits that, if you know them well, will come when you + do call. You will find the very invocation of them act on you like a + renovating air—the South-west coming off the sea, or a cry in the + Alps. + </p> + <p> + No one would presume to say that we are deficient in jokers. They abound, + and the organisation directing their machinery to shoot them in the wake + of the leading article and the popular sentiment is good. + </p> + <p> + But the Comic differs from them in addressing the wits for laughter; and + the sluggish wits want some training to respond to it, whether in public + life or private, and particularly when the feelings are excited. + </p> + <p> + The sense of the Comic is much blunted by habits of punning and of using + humouristic phrase: the trick of employing Johnsonian polysyllables to + treat of the infinitely little. And it really may be humorous, of a kind, + yet it will miss the point by going too much round about it. + </p> + <p> + A certain French Duke Pasquier died, some years back, at a very advanced + age. He had been the venerable Duke Pasquier in his later years up to the + period of his death. There was a report of Duke Pasquier that he was a man + of profound egoism. Hence an argument arose, and was warmly sustained, + upon the excessive selfishness of those who, in a world of troubles, and + calls to action, and innumerable duties, husband their strength for the + sake of living on. Can it be possible, the argument ran, for a truly + generous heart to continue beating up to the age of a hundred? Duke + Pasquier was not without his defenders, who likened him to the oak of the + forest—a venerable comparison. + </p> + <p> + The argument was conducted on both sides with spirit and earnestness, + lightened here and there by frisky touches of the polysyllabic playful, + reminding one of the serious pursuit of their fun by truant boys, that are + assured they are out of the eye of their master, and now and then indulge + in an imitation of him. And well might it be supposed that the Comic idea + was asleep, not overlooking them! It resolved at last to this, that either + Duke Pasquier was a scandal on our humanity in clinging to life so long, + or that he honoured it by so sturdy a resistance to the enemy. As one who + has entangled himself in a labyrinth is glad to get out again at the + entrance, the argument ran about to conclude with its commencement. + </p> + <p> + Now, imagine a master of the Comic treating this theme, and particularly + the argument on it. Imagine an Aristophanic comedy of THE CENTENARIAN, + with choric praises of heroical early death, and the same of a stubborn + vitality, and the poet laughing at the chorus; and the grand question for + contention in dialogue, as to the exact age when a man should die, to the + identical minute, that he may preserve the respect of his fellows, + followed by a systematic attempt to make an accurate measurement in + parallel lines, with a tough rope-yarn by one party, and a string of yawns + by the other, of the veteran’s power of enduring life, and our capacity + for enduring HIM, with tremendous pulling on both sides. + </p> + <p> + Would not the Comic view of the discussion illumine it and the disputants + like very lightning? There are questions, as well as persons, that only + the Comic can fitly touch. + </p> + <p> + Aristophanes would probably have crowned the ancient tree, with the + consolatory observation to the haggard line of long-expectant heirs of the + Centenarian, that they live to see the blessedness of coming of a strong + stock. The shafts of his ridicule would mainly have been aimed at the + disputants. For the sole ground of the argument was the old man’s + character, and sophists are not needed to demonstrate that we can very + soon have too much of a bad thing. A Centenarian does not necessarily + provoke the Comic idea, nor does the corpse of a duke. It is not provoked + in the order of nature, until we draw its penetrating attentiveness to + some circumstance with which we have been mixing our private interests, or + our speculative obfuscation. Dulness, insensible to the Comic, has the + privilege of arousing it; and the laying of a dull finger on matters of + human life is the surest method of establishing electrical communications + with a battery of laughter—where the Comic idea is prevalent. + </p> + <p> + But if the Comic idea prevailed with us, and we had an Aristophanes to + barb and wing it, we should be breathing air of Athens. Prosers now + pouring forth on us like public fountains would be cut short in the street + and left blinking, dumb as pillar-posts, with letters thrust into their + mouths. We should throw off incubus, our dreadful familiar—by some + called boredom—whom it is our present humiliation to be just alive + enough to loathe, never quick enough to foil. There would be a bright and + positive, clear Hellenic perception of facts. The vapours of Unreason and + Sentimentalism would be blown away before they were productive. Where + would Pessimist and Optimist be? They would in any case have a diminished + audience. Yet possibly the change of despots, from good-natured old + obtuseness to keen-edged intelligence, which is by nature merciless, would + be more than we could bear. The rupture of the link between dull people, + consisting in the fraternal agreement that something is too clever for + them, and a shot beyond them, is not to be thought of lightly; for, + slender though the link may seem, it is equivalent to a cement forming a + concrete of dense cohesion, very desirable in the estimation of the + statesman. + </p> + <p> + A political Aristophanes, taking advantage of his lyrical Bacchic licence, + was found too much for political Athens. I would not ask to have him + revived, but that the sharp light of such a spirit as his might be with us + to strike now and then on public affairs, public themes, to make them spin + along more briskly. + </p> + <p> + He hated with the politician’s fervour the sophist who corrupted + simplicity of thought, the poet who destroyed purity of style, the + demagogue, ‘the saw-toothed monster,’ who, as he conceived, chicaned the + mob, and he held his own against them by strength of laughter, until + fines, the curtailing of his Comic licence in the chorus, and ultimately + the ruin of Athens, which could no longer support the expense of the + chorus, threw him altogether on dialogue, and brought him under the law. + After the catastrophe, the poet, who had ever been gazing back at the men + of Marathon and Salamis, must have felt that he had foreseen it; and that + he was wise when he pleaded for peace, and derided military coxcombry, and + the captious old creature Demus, we can admit. He had the Comic poet’s + gift of common-sense—which does not always include political + intelligence; yet his political tendency raised him above the Old Comedy + turn for uproarious farce. He abused Socrates, but Xenophon, the disciple + of Socrates, by his trained rhetoric saved the Ten Thousand. Aristophanes + might say that if his warnings had been followed there would have been no + such thing as a mercenary Greek expedition under Cyrus. Athens, however, + was on a landslip, falling; none could arrest it. To gaze back, to uphold + the old times, was a most natural conservatism, and fruitless. The aloe + had bloomed. Whether right or wrong in his politics and his criticisms, + and bearing in mind the instruments he played on and the audience he had + to win, there is an idea in his comedies: it is the Idea of Good + Citizenship. + </p> + <p> + He is not likely to be revived. He stands, like Shakespeare, an + unapproachable. Swift says of him, with a loving chuckle: + </p> + <p> + ‘But as for Comic Aristophanes, The dog too witty and too profane is.’ + </p> + <p> + Aristophanes was ‘profane,’ under satiric direction, unlike his rivals + Cratinus, Phrynichus, Ameipsias, Eupolis, and others, if we are to believe + him, who in their extraordinary Donnybrook Fair of the day of Comedy, + thumped one another and everybody else with absolute heartiness, as he + did, but aimed at small game, and dragged forth particular women, which he + did not. He is an aggregate of many men, all of a certain greatness. We + may build up a conception of his powers if we mount Rabelais upon + Hudibras, lift him with the songfulness of Shelley, give him a vein of + Heinrich Heine, and cover him with the mantle of the Anti-Jacobin, adding + (that there may be some Irish in him) a dash of Grattan, before he is in + motion. + </p> + <p> + But such efforts at conceiving one great one by incorporation of minors + are vain, and cry for excuse. Supposing Wilkes for leading man in a + country constantly plunging into war under some plumed Lamachus, with + enemies periodically firing the land up to the gates of London, and a + Samuel Foote, of prodigious genius, attacking him with ridicule, I think + it gives a notion of the conflict engaged in by Aristophanes. This + laughing bald-pate, as he calls himself, was a Titanic pamphleteer, using + laughter for his political weapon; a laughter without scruple, the + laughter of Hercules. He was primed with wit, as with the garlic he speaks + of giving to the game-cocks, to make them fight the better. And he was a + lyric poet of aerial delicacy, with the homely song of a jolly national + poet, and a poet of such feeling that the comic mask is at times no + broader than a cloth on a face to show the serious features of our common + likeness. He is not to be revived; but if his method were studied, some of + the fire in him would come to us, and we might be revived. + </p> + <p> + Taking them generally, the English public are most in sympathy with this + primitive Aristophanic comedy, wherein the comic is capped by the + grotesque, irony tips the wit, and satire is a naked sword. They have the + basis of the Comic in them: an esteem for common-sense. They cordially + dislike the reverse of it. They have a rich laugh, though it is not the + gros rire of the Gaul tossing gros sel, nor the polished Frenchman’s + mentally digestive laugh. And if they have now, like a monarch with a + troop of dwarfs, too many jesters kicking the dictionary about, to let + them reflect that they are dull, occasionally, like the pensive monarch + surprising himself with an idea of an idea of his own, they look so. And + they are given to looking in the glass. They must see that something ails + them. How much even the better order of them will endure, without a + thought of the defensive, when the person afflicting them is protected + from satire, we read in Memoirs of a Preceding Age, where the vulgarly + tyrannous hostess of a great house of reception shuffled the guests and + played them like a pack of cards, with her exact estimate of the strength + of each one printed on them: and still this house continued to be the most + popular in England; nor did the lady ever appear in print or on the boards + as the comic type that she was. + </p> + <p> + It has been suggested that they have not yet spiritually comprehended the + signification of living in society; for who are cheerfuller, brisker of + wit, in the fields, and as explorers, colonisers, backwoodsmen? They are + happy in rough exercise, and also in complete repose. The intermediate + condition, when they are called upon to talk to one another, upon other + than affairs of business or their hobbies, reveals them wearing a curious + look of vacancy, as it were the socket of an eye wanting. The Comic is + perpetually springing up in social life, and, it oppresses them from not + being perceived. + </p> + <p> + Thus, at a dinner-party, one of the guests, who happens to have enrolled + himself in a Burial Company, politely entreats the others to inscribe + their names as shareholders, expatiating on the advantages accruing to + them in the event of their very possible speedy death, the salubrity of + the site, the aptitude of the soil for a quick consumption of their + remains, etc.; and they drink sadness from the incongruous man, and + conceive indigestion, not seeing him in a sharply defined light, that + would bid them taste the comic of him. Or it is mentioned that a newly + elected member of our Parliament celebrates his arrival at eminence by the + publication of a book on cab-fares, dedicated to a beloved female relative + deceased, and the comment on it is the word ‘Indeed.’ But, merely for a + contrast, turn to a not uncommon scene of yesterday in the hunting-field, + where a brilliant young rider, having broken his collar-bone, trots away + very soon after, against medical interdict, half put together in + splinters, to the most distant meet of his neighbourhood, sure of escaping + his doctor, who is the first person he encounters. ‘I came here purposely + to avoid you,’ says the patient. ‘I came here purposely to take care of + you,’ says the doctor. Off they go, and come to a swollen brook. The + patient clears it handsomely: the doctor tumbles in. All the field are + alive with the heartiest relish of every incident and every cross-light on + it; and dull would the man have been thought who had not his word to say + about it when riding home. + </p> + <p> + In our prose literature we have had delightful Comic writers. Besides + Fielding and Goldsmith, there is Miss Austen, whose Emma and Mr. Elton + might walk straight into a comedy, were the plot arranged for them. Galt’s + neglected novels have some characters and strokes of shrewd comedy. In our + poetic literature the comic is delicate and graceful above the touch of + Italian and French. Generally, however, the English elect excel in satire, + and they are noble humourists. The national disposition is for + hard-hitting, with a moral purpose to sanction it; or for a rosy, + sometimes a larmoyant, geniality, not unmanly in its verging upon + tenderness, and with a singular attraction for thick-headedness, to + decorate it with asses’ ears and the most beautiful sylvan haloes. But the + Comic is a different spirit. + </p> + <p> + You may estimate your capacity for Comic perception by being able to + detect the ridicule of them you love, without loving them less: and more + by being able to see yourself somewhat ridiculous in dear eyes, and + accepting the correction their image of you proposes. + </p> + <p> + Each one of an affectionate couple may be willing, as we say, to die for + the other, yet unwilling to utter the agreeable word at the right moment; + but if the wits were sufficiently quick for them to perceive that they are + in a comic situation, as affectionate couples must be when they quarrel, + they would not wait for the moon or the almanac, or a Dorine, to bring + back the flood-tide of tender feelings, that they should join hands and + lips. + </p> + <p> + If you detect the ridicule, and your kindliness is chilled by it, you are + slipping into the grasp of Satire. + </p> + <p> + If instead of falling foul of the ridiculous person with a satiric rod, to + make him writhe and shriek aloud, you prefer to sting him under a + semi-caress, by which he shall in his anguish be rendered dubious whether + indeed anything has hurt him, you are an engine of Irony. + </p> + <p> + If you laugh all round him, tumble him, roll him about, deal him a smack, + and drop a tear on him, own his likeness to you and yours to your + neighbour, spare him as little as you shun, pity him as much as you + expose, it is a spirit of Humour that is moving you. + </p> + <p> + The Comic, which is the perceptive, is the governing spirit, awakening and + giving aim to these powers of laughter, but it is not to be confounded + with them: it enfolds a thinner form of them, differing from satire, in + not sharply driving into the quivering sensibilities, and from humour, in + not comforting them and tucking them up, or indicating a broader than the + range of this bustling world to them. + </p> + <p> + Fielding’s Jonathan Wild presents a case of this peculiar distinction, + when that man of eminent greatness remarks upon the unfairness of a trial + in which the condemnation has been brought about by twelve men of the + opposite party; for it is not satiric, it is not humorous; yet it is + immensely comic to hear a guilty villain protesting that his own ‘party’ + should have a voice in the Law. It opens an avenue into villains’ + ratiocination. {9} And the Comic is not cancelled though we should suppose + Jonathan to be giving play to his humour. I may have dreamed this or had + it suggested to me, for on referring to Jonathan Wild, I do not find it. + </p> + <p> + Apply the case to the man of deep wit, who is ever certain of his + condemnation by the opposite party, and then it ceases to be comic, and + will be satiric. + </p> + <p> + The look of Fielding upon Richardson is essentially comic. His method of + correcting the sentimental writer is a mixture of the comic and the + humorous. Parson Adams is a creation of humour. But both the conception + and the presentation of Alceste and of Tartuffe, of Celimene and + Philaminte, are purely comic, addressed to the intellect: there is no + humour in them, and they refresh the intellect they quicken to detect + their comedy, by force of the contrast they offer between themselves and + the wiser world about them; that is to say, society, or that assemblage of + minds whereof the Comic spirit has its origin. + </p> + <p> + Byron had splendid powers of humour, and the most poetic satire that we + have example of, fusing at times to hard irony. He had no strong comic + sense, or he would not have taken an anti-social position, which is + directly opposed to the Comic; and in his philosophy, judged by + philosophers, he is a comic figure, by reason of this deficiency. ‘So bald + er philosophirt ist er ein Kind,’ Goethe says of him. Carlyle sees him in + this comic light, treats him in the humorous manner. + </p> + <p> + The Satirist is a moral agent, often a social scavenger, working on a + storage of bile. + </p> + <p> + The Ironeist is one thing or another, according to his caprice. Irony is + the humour of satire; it may be savage as in Swift, with a moral object, + or sedate, as in Gibbon, with a malicious. The foppish irony fretting to + be seen, and the irony which leers, that you shall not mistake its + intention, are failures in satiric effort pretending to the treasures of + ambiguity. + </p> + <p> + The Humourist of mean order is a refreshing laugher, giving tone to the + feelings and sometimes allowing the feelings to be too much for him. But + the humourist of high has an embrace of contrasts beyond the scope of the + Comic poet. + </p> + <p> + Heart and mind laugh out at Don Quixote, and still you brood on him. The + juxtaposition of the knight and squire is a Comic conception, the + opposition of their natures most humorous. They are as different as the + two hemispheres in the time of Columbus, yet they touch and are bound in + one by laughter. The knight’s great aims and constant mishaps, his + chivalrous valiancy exercised on absurd objects, his good sense along the + highroad of the craziest of expeditions; the compassion he plucks out of + derision, and the admirable figure he preserves while stalking through the + frantically grotesque and burlesque assailing him, are in the loftiest + moods of humour, fusing the Tragic sentiment with the Comic narrative. + </p> + <p> + The stroke of the great humourist is world-wide, with lights of Tragedy in + his laughter. + </p> + <p> + Taking a living great, though not creative, humourist to guide our + description: the skull of Yorick is in his hands in our seasons of + festival; he sees visions of primitive man capering preposterously under + the gorgeous robes of ceremonial. Our souls must be on fire when we wear + solemnity, if we would not press upon his shrewdest nerve. Finite and + infinite flash from one to the other with him, lending him a two-edged + thought that peeps out of his peacefullest lines by fits, like the lantern + of the fire-watcher at windows, going the rounds at night. The comportment + and performances of men in society are to him, by the vivid comparison + with their mortality, more grotesque than respectable. But ask yourself, + Is he always to be relied on for justness? He will fly straight as the + emissary eagle back to Jove at the true Hero. He will also make as + determined a swift descent upon the man of his wilful choice, whom we + cannot distinguish as a true one. This vast power of his, built up of the + feelings and the intellect in union, is often wanting in proportion and in + discretion. Humourists touching upon History or Society are given to be + capricious. They are, as in the case of Sterne, given to be sentimental; + for with them the feelings are primary, as with singers. Comedy, on the + other hand, is an interpretation of the general mind, and is for that + reason of necessity kept in restraint. The French lay marked stress on + mesure et gout, and they own how much they owe to Moliere for leading them + in simple justness and taste. We can teach them many things; they can + teach us in this. + </p> + <p> + The Comic poet is in the narrow field, or enclosed square, of the society + he depicts; and he addresses the still narrower enclosure of men’s + intellects, with reference to the operation of the social world upon their + characters. He is not concerned with beginnings or endings or + surroundings, but with what you are now weaving. To understand his work + and value it, you must have a sober liking of your kind and a sober + estimate of our civilized qualities. The aim and business of the Comic + poet are misunderstood, his meaning is not seized nor his point of view + taken, when he is accused of dishonouring our nature and being hostile to + sentiment, tending to spitefulness and making an unfair use of laughter. + Those who detect irony in Comedy do so because they choose to see it in + life. Poverty, says the satirist, has nothing harder in itself than that + it makes men ridiculous. But poverty is never ridiculous to Comic + perception until it attempts to make its rags conceal its bareness in a + forlorn attempt at decency, or foolishly to rival ostentation. Caleb + Balderstone, in his endeavour to keep up the honour of a noble household + in a state of beggary, is an exquisitely comic character. In the case of + ‘poor relatives,’ on the other hand, it is the rich, whom they perplex, + that are really comic; and to laugh at the former, not seeing the comedy + of the latter, is to betray dulness of vision. Humourist and Satirist + frequently hunt together as Ironeists in pursuit of the grotesque, to the + exclusion of the Comic. That was an affecting moment in the history of the + Prince Regent, when the First Gentleman of Europe burst into tears at a + sarcastic remark of Beau Brummell’s on the cut of his coat. Humour, + Satire, Irony, pounce on it altogether as their common prey. The Comic + spirit eyes but does not touch it. Put into action, it would be farcical. + It is too gross for Comedy. + </p> + <p> + Incidents of a kind casting ridicule on our unfortunate nature instead of + our conventional life, provoke derisive laughter, which thwarts the Comic + idea. But derision is foiled by the play of the intellect. Most of + doubtful causes in contest are open to Comic interpretation, and any + intellectual pleading of a doubtful cause contains germs of an Idea of + Comedy. + </p> + <p> + The laughter of satire is a blow in the back or the face. The laughter of + Comedy is impersonal and of unrivalled politeness, nearer a smile; often + no more than a smile. It laughs through the mind, for the mind directs it; + and it might be called the humour of the mind. + </p> + <p> + One excellent test of the civilization of a country, as I have said, I + take to be the flourishing of the Comic idea and Comedy; and the test of + true Comedy is that it shall awaken thoughtful laughter. + </p> + <p> + If you believe that our civilization is founded in common-sense (and it is + the first condition of sanity to believe it), you will, when contemplating + men, discern a Spirit overhead; not more heavenly than the light flashed + upward from glassy surfaces, but luminous and watchful; never shooting + beyond them, nor lagging in the rear; so closely attached to them that it + may be taken for a slavish reflex, until its features are studied. It has + the sage’s brows, and the sunny malice of a faun lurks at the corners of + the half-closed lips drawn in an idle wariness of half tension. That slim + feasting smile, shaped like the long-bow, was once a big round satyr’s + laugh, that flung up the brows like a fortress lifted by gunpowder. The + laugh will come again, but it will be of the order of the smile, finely + tempered, showing sunlight of the mind, mental richness rather than noisy + enormity. Its common aspect is one of unsolicitous observation, as if + surveying a full field and having leisure to dart on its chosen morsels, + without any fluttering eagerness. Men’s future upon earth does not attract + it; their honesty and shapeliness in the present does; and whenever they + wax out of proportion, overblown, affected, pretentious, bombastical, + hypocritical, pedantic, fantastically delicate; whenever it sees them + self-deceived or hoodwinked, given to run riot in idolatries, drifting + into vanities, congregating in absurdities, planning short-sightedly, + plotting dementedly; whenever they are at variance with their professions, + and violate the unwritten but perceptible laws binding them in + consideration one to another; whenever they offend sound reason, fair + justice; are false in humility or mined with conceit, individually, or in + the bulk—the Spirit overhead will look humanely malign and cast an + oblique light on them, followed by volleys of silvery laughter. That is + the Comic Spirit. + </p> + <p> + Not to distinguish it is to be bull-blind to the spiritual, and to deny + the existence of a mind of man where minds of men are in working + conjunction. + </p> + <p> + You must, as I have said, believe that our state of society is founded in + common-sense, otherwise you will not be struck by the contrasts the Comic + Spirit perceives, or have it to look to for your consolation. You will, in + fact, be standing in that peculiar oblique beam of light, yourself + illuminated to the general eye as the very object of chase and doomed + quarry of the thing obscure to you. But to feel its presence and to see it + is your assurance that many sane and solid minds are with you in what you + are experiencing: and this of itself spares you the pain of satirical + heat, and the bitter craving to strike heavy blows. You share the sublime + of wrath, that would not have hurt the foolish, but merely demonstrate + their foolishness. Moliere was contented to revenge himself on the critics + of the Ecole des Femmes, by writing the Critique de l’Ecole des Femmes, + one of the wisest as well as the playfullest of studies in criticism. A + perception of the comic spirit gives high fellowship. You become a citizen + of the selecter world, the highest we know of in connection with our old + world, which is not supermundane. Look there for your unchallengeable + upper class! You feel that you are one of this our civilized community, + that you cannot escape from it, and would not if you could. Good hope + sustains you; weariness does not overwhelm you; in isolation you see no + charms for vanity; personal pride is greatly moderated. Nor shall your + title of citizenship exclude you from worlds of imagination or of + devotion. The Comic spirit is not hostile to the sweetest songfully + poetic. Chaucer bubbles with it: Shakespeare overflows: there is a mild + moon’s ray of it (pale with super-refinement through distance from our + flesh and blood planet) in Comus. Pope has it, and it is the daylight side + of the night half obscuring Cowper. It is only hostile to the priestly + element, when that, by baleful swelling, transcends and overlaps the + bounds of its office: and then, in extreme cases, it is too true to itself + to speak, and veils the lamp: as, for example, the spectacle of Bossuet + over the dead body of Moliere: at which the dark angels may, but men do + not laugh. + </p> + <p> + We have had comic pulpits, for a sign that the laughter-moving and the + worshipful may be in alliance: I know not how far comic, or how much + assisted in seeming so by the unexpectedness and the relief of its + appearance: at least they are popular, they are said to win the ear. + Laughter is open to perversion, like other good things; the scornful and + the brutal sorts are not unknown to us; but the laughter directed by the + Comic spirit is a harmless wine, conducing to sobriety in the degree that + it enlivens. It enters you like fresh air into a study; as when one of the + sudden contrasts of the comic idea floods the brain like reassuring + daylight. You are cognizant of the true kind by feeling that you take it + in, savour it, and have what flowers live on, natural air for food. That + which you give out—the joyful roar—is not the better part; let + that go to good fellowship and the benefit of the lungs. Aristophanes + promises his auditors that if they will retain the ideas of the comic poet + carefully, as they keep dried fruits in boxes, their garments shall smell + odoriferous of wisdom throughout the year. The boast will not be thought + an empty one by those who have choice friends that have stocked themselves + according to his directions. Such treasuries of sparkling laughter are + wells in our desert. Sensitiveness to the comic laugh is a step in + civilization. To shrink from being an object of it is a step in + cultivation. We know the degree of refinement in men by the matter they + will laugh at, and the ring of the laugh; but we know likewise that the + larger natures are distinguished by the great breadth of their power of + laughter, and no one really loving Moliere is refined by that love to + despise or be dense to Aristophanes, though it may be that the lover of + Aristophanes will not have risen to the height of Moliere. Embrace them + both, and you have the whole scale of laughter in your breast. Nothing in + the world surpasses in stormy fun the scene in The Frogs, when Bacchus and + Xanthias receive their thrashings from the hands of businesslike OEacus, + to discover which is the divinity of the two, by his imperviousness to the + mortal condition of pain, and each, under the obligation of not crying + out, makes believe that his horrible bellow—the god’s iou—iou + being the lustier—means only the stopping of a sneeze, or horseman + sighted, or the prelude to an invocation to some deity: and the slave + contrives that the god shall get the bigger lot of blows. Passages of + Rabelais, one or two in Don Quixote, and the Supper in the Manner of the + Ancients, in Peregrine Pickle, are of a similar cataract of laughter. But + it is not illuminating; it is not the laughter of the mind. Moliere’s + laughter, in his purest comedies, is ethereal, as light to our nature, as + colour to our thoughts. The Misanthrope and the Tartuffe have no audible + laughter; but the characters are steeped in the comic spirit. They quicken + the mind through laughter, from coming out of the mind; and the mind + accepts them because they are clear interpretations of certain chapters of + the Book lying open before us all. Between these two stand Shakespeare and + Cervantes, with the richer laugh of heart and mind in one; with much of + the Aristophanic robustness, something of Moliere’s delicacy. + </p> + <p> + The laughter heard in circles not pervaded by the Comic idea, will sound + harsh and soulless, like versified prose, if you step into them with a + sense of the distinction. You will fancy you have changed your habitation + to a planet remoter from the sun. You may be among powerful brains too. + You will not find poets—or but a stray one, over-worshipped. You + will find learned men undoubtedly, professors, reputed philosophers, and + illustrious dilettanti. They have in them, perhaps, every element + composing light, except the Comic. They read verse, they discourse of art; + but their eminent faculties are not under that vigilant sense of a + collective supervision, spiritual and present, which we have taken note + of. They build a temple of arrogance; they speak much in the voice of + oracles; their hilarity, if it does not dip in grossness, is usually a + form of pugnacity. + </p> + <p> + Insufficiency of sight in the eye looking outward has deprived them of the + eye that should look inward. They have never weighed themselves in the + delicate balance of the Comic idea so as to obtain a suspicion of the + rights and dues of the world; and they have, in consequence, an irritable + personality. A very learned English professor crushed an argument in a + political discussion, by asking his adversary angrily: ‘Are you aware, + sir, that I am a philologer?’ + </p> + <p> + The practice of polite society will help in training them, and the + professor on a sofa with beautiful ladies on each side of him, may become + their pupil and a scholar in manners without knowing it: he is at least a + fair and pleasing spectacle to the Comic Muse. But the society named + polite is volatile in its adorations, and to-morrow will be petting a + bronzed soldier, or a black African, or a prince, or a spiritualist: ideas + cannot take root in its ever-shifting soil. It is besides addicted in + self-defence to gabble exclusively of the affairs of its rapidly revolving + world, as children on a whirligoround bestow their attention on the wooden + horse or cradle ahead of them, to escape from giddiness and preserve a + notion of identity. The professor is better out of a circle that often + confounds by lionizing, sometimes annoys by abandoning, and always + confuses. The school that teaches gently what peril there is lest a + cultivated head should still be coxcomb’s, and the collisions which may + befall high-soaring minds, empty or full, is more to be recommended than + the sphere of incessant motion supplying it with material. + </p> + <p> + Lands where the Comic spirit is obscure overhead are rank with raw crops + of matter. The traveller accustomed to smooth highways and people not + covered with burrs and prickles is amazed, amid so much that is fair and + cherishable, to come upon such curious barbarism. An Englishman paid a + visit of admiration to a professor in the Land of Culture, and was + introduced by him to another distinguished professor, to whom he took so + cordially as to walk out with him alone one afternoon. The first + professor, an erudite entirely worthy of the sentiment of scholarly esteem + prompting the visit, behaved (if we exclude the dagger) with the + vindictive jealousy of an injured Spanish beauty. After a short prelude of + gloom and obscure explosions, he discharged upon his faithless admirer the + bolts of passionate logic familiar to the ears of flighty caballeros:—‘Either + I am a fit object of your admiration, or I am not. Of these things one—either + you are competent to judge, in which case I stand condemned by you; or you + are incompetent, and therefore impertinent, and you may betake yourself to + your country again, hypocrite!’ The admirer was for persuading the wounded + scholar that it is given to us to be able to admire two professors at a + time. He was driven forth. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps this might have occurred in any country, and a comedy of The + Pedant, discovering the greedy humanity within the dusty scholar, would + not bring it home to one in particular. I am mindful that it was in + Germany, when I observe that the Germans have gone through no comic + training to warn them of the sly, wise emanation eyeing them from aloft, + nor much of satirical. Heinrich Heine has not been enough to cause them to + smart and meditate. Nationally, as well as individually, when they are + excited they are in danger of the grotesque, as when, for instance, they + decline to listen to evidence, and raise a national outcry because one of + German blood has been convicted of crime in a foreign country. They are + acute critics, yet they still wield clubs in controversy. Compare them in + this respect with the people schooled in La Bruyere, La Fontaine, Moliere; + with the people who have the figures of a Trissotin and a Vadius before + them for a comic warning of the personal vanities of the caressed + professor. It is more than difference of race. It is the difference of + traditions, temper, and style, which comes of schooling. + </p> + <p> + The French controversialist is a polished swordsman, to be dreaded in his + graces and courtesies. The German is Orson, or the mob, or a marching + army, in defence of a good case or a bad—a big or a little. His + irony is a missile of terrific tonnage: sarcasm he emits like a blast from + a dragon’s mouth. He must and will be Titan. He stamps his foe underfoot, + and is astonished that the creature is not dead, but stinging; for, in + truth, the Titan is contending, by comparison, with a god. + </p> + <p> + When the Germans lie on their arms, looking across the Alsatian frontier + at the crowds of Frenchmen rushing to applaud L’ami Fritz at the Theatre + Francais, looking and considering the meaning of that applause, which is + grimly comic in its political response to the domestic moral of the play—when + the Germans watch and are silent, their force of character tells. They are + kings in music, we may say princes in poetry, good speculators in + philosophy, and our leaders in scholarship. That so gifted a race, + possessed moreover of the stern good sense which collects the waters of + laughter to make the wells, should show at a disadvantage, I hold for a + proof, instructive to us, that the discipline of the comic spirit is + needful to their growth. We see what they can reach to in that great + figure of modern manhood, Goethe. They are a growing people; they are + conversable as well; and when their men, as in France, and at intervals at + Berlin tea-tables, consent to talk on equal terms with their women, and to + listen to them, their growth will be accelerated and be shapelier. Comedy, + or in any form the Comic spirit, will then come to them to cut some + figures out of the block, show them the mirror, enliven and irradiate the + social intelligence. + </p> + <p> + Modern French comedy is commendable for the directness of the study of + actual life, as far as that, which is but the early step in such a + scholarship, can be of service in composing and colouring the picture. A + consequence of this crude, though well-meant, realism is the collision of + the writers in their scenes and incidents, and in their characters. The + Muse of most of them is an Aventuriere. She is clever, and a certain + diversion exists in the united scheme for confounding her. The object of + this person is to reinstate herself in the decorous world; and either, + having accomplished this purpose through deceit, she has a nostalgie de la + boue, that eventually casts her back into it, or she is exposed in her + course of deception when she is about to gain her end. A very good, + innocent young man is her victim, or a very astute, goodish young man + obstructs her path. This latter is enabled to be the champion of the + decorous world by knowing the indecorous well. He has assisted in the + progress of Aventurieres downward; he will not help them to ascend. The + world is with him; and certainly it is not much of an ascension they + aspire to; but what sort of a figure is he? The triumph of a candid + realism is to show him no hero. You are to admire him (for it must be + supposed that realism pretends to waken some admiration) as a credibly + living young man; no better, only a little firmer and shrewder, than the + rest. If, however, you think at all, after the curtain has fallen, you are + likely to think that the Aventurieres have a case to plead against him. + True, and the author has not said anything to the contrary; he has but + painted from the life; he leaves his audience to the reflections of + unphilosophic minds upon life, from the specimen he has presented in the + bright and narrow circle of a spy-glass. + </p> + <p> + I do not know that the fly in amber is of any particular use, but the + Comic idea enclosed in a comedy makes it more generally perceptible and + portable, and that is an advantage. There is a benefit to men in taking + the lessons of Comedy in congregations, for it enlivens the wits; and to + writers it is beneficial, for they must have a clear scheme, and even if + they have no idea to present, they must prove that they have made the + public sit to them before the sitting to see the picture. And writing for + the stage would be a corrective of a too-incrusted scholarly style, into + which some great ones fall at times. It keeps minor writers to a definite + plan, and to English. Many of them now swelling a plethoric market, in the + composition of novels, in pun-manufactories and in journalism; attached to + the machinery forcing perishable matter on a public that swallows + voraciously and groans; might, with encouragement, be attending to the + study of art in literature. Our critics appear to be fascinated by the + quaintness of our public, as the world is when our beast-garden has a new + importation of magnitude, and the creatures appetite is reverently + consulted. They stipulate for a writer’s popularity before they will do + much more than take the position of umpires to record his failure or + success. Now the pig supplies the most popular of dishes, but it is not + accounted the most honoured of animals, unless it be by the cottager. Our + public might surely be led to try other, perhaps finer, meat. It has good + taste in song. It might be taught as justly, on the whole, and the sooner + when the cottager’s view of the feast shall cease to be the humble one of + our literary critics, to extend this capacity for delicate choosing in the + direction of the matter arousing laughter. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_FOOT" id="link2H_FOOT"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + Footnotes: + </h2> + <h3> + {1} A lecture delivered at the London Institution, February 1st, 1877. + </h3> + <p> + {2} Realism in the writing is carried to such a pitch in THE OLD BACHELOR, + that husband and wife use imbecile connubial epithets to one another. + </p> + <p> + {3} Tallemant des Reaux, in his rough portrait of the Duke, shows the + foundation of the character of Alceste. + </p> + <p> + {4} See Tom Jones, book viii. chapter I, for Fielding’s opinion of our + Comedy. But he puts it simply; not as an exercise in the + quasi-philosophical bathetic. + </p> + <p> + {5} Femmes Savantes: + </p> + <p> + BELISE: Veux-tu toute la vie offenser la grammaire? + </p> + <p> + MARTINE: Qui parle d’offenser grand’mere ni grand-pere?’ + </p> + <p> + The pun is delivered in all sincerity, from the mouth of a rustic. + </p> + <p> + {6} Maskwell seems to have been carved on the model of Iago, as by the + hand of an enterprising urchin. He apostrophizes his ‘invention’ + repeatedly. ‘Thanks, my invention.’ He hits on an invention, to say: ‘Was + it my brain or Providence? no matter which.’ It is no matter which, but it + was not his brain. + </p> + <p> + {7} Imaginary Conversations: Alfieri and the Jew Salomon. + </p> + <p> + {8} Terence did not please the rough old conservative Romans; they liked + Plautus better, and the recurring mention of the vetus poeta in his + prologues, who plagued him with the crusty critical view of his + productions, has in the end a comic effect on the reader. + </p> + <p> + {9} The exclamation of Lady Booby, when Joseph defends himself: ‘YOUR + VIRTUE! I shall never survive it!’ etc., is another instance.—Joseph + Andrews. Also that of Miss Mathews in her narrative to Booth: ‘But such + are the friendships of women.’—Amelia. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS FOR THE PG SHORT WORKS OF MEREDITH: + + A wise man will not squander his laughter if he can help it + A woman is hurt if you do not confide to her your plans + A generous enemy is a friend on the wrong side + A very doubtful benefit + A great oration may be a sedative + A male devotee is within an inch of a miracle + Above Nature, I tell him, or, we shall be very much below + Adversary at once offensive and helpless provokes brutality + All are friends who sit at table + All flattery is at somebody’s expense + Americans forgivingly remember, without mentioning + As becomes them, they do not look ahead + As in all great oratory! The key of it is the pathos + Back from the altar to discover that she has chained herself + Be what you seem, my little one + Be philosophical, but accept your personal dues + Bed was a rock of refuge and fortified defence + But I leave it to you + Can believe a woman to be any age when her cheeks are tinted + Causes him to be popularly weighed + Charges of cynicism are common against all satirists + Civil tongue and rosy smiles sweeten even sour wine + Cupid clipped of wing is a destructive parasite + Dangerous things are uttered after the third glass + Distinguished by his not allowing himself to be provoked + Distrust us, and it is a declaration of war + Eccentric behaviour in trifles + Everywhere the badge of subjection is a poor stomach + Excess of a merit is a capital offence in morality + Excited, glad of catastrophe if it but killed monotony + Face betokening the perpetual smack of lemon + Fourth of the Georges + Generally he noticed nothing + Gentleman in a good state of preservation + Good jokes are not always good policy + Gratitude never was a woman’s gift + Happiness in love is a match between ecstasy and compliance + Here and there a plain good soul to whom he was affectionate + His idea of marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody + Holy images, and other miraculous objects are sold + I who respect the state of marriage by refusing + I make a point of never recommending my own house + I like him, I like him, of course, but I want to breathe + I am a discordant instrument I do not readily vibrate + If I do not speak of payment + Imparting the usual chorus of yesses to his own mind + In every difficulty, patience is a life-belt + Indulged in their privilege of thinking what they liked + Infants are said to have their ideas, and why not young ladies? + Intellectual contempt of easy dupes + Invite indecision to exhaust their scruples + Is not one month of brightness as much as we can ask for? + It was harder to be near and not close + It is well to learn manners without having them imposed on us + Knew my friend to be one of the most absent-minded of men + Lend him your own generosity + Love and war have been compared—Both require strategy + Loving in this land: they all go mad, straight off + Men love to boast of things nobody else has seen + Men overweeningly in love with their creations + Modest are the most easily intoxicated when they sip at vanity + Must be the moralist in the satirist if satire is to strike + Nature is not of necessity always roaring + Naughtily Australian and kangarooly + Never reckon on womankind for a wise act + No flattery for me at the expense of my sisters + Not a page of his books reveals malevolence or a sneer + Not in love—She was only not unwilling to be in love + Nothing desirable will you have which is not coveted + Only to be described in the tongue of auctioneers + Peace, I do pray, for the husband-haunted wife + Period of his life a man becomes too voraciously constant + Petty concessions are signs of weakness to the unsatisfied + Pitiful conceit in men + Primitive appetite for noise + Rapture of obliviousness + Rejoicing they have in their common agreement + Respected the vegetable yet more than he esteemed the flower + Rich and poor ‘s all right, if I’m rich and you’re poor + Self-incense + Self-worship, which is often self-distrust + She seems honest, and that is the most we can hope of girls + She sought, by looking hard, to understand it better + She might turn out good, if well guarded for a time + She began to feel that this was life in earnest + She dealt in the flashes which connect ideas + Sign that the evil had reached from pricks to pokes + So are great deeds judged when the danger’s past (as easy) + Soft slumber of a strength never yet called forth + Spare me that word “female” as long as you live + Statesman who stooped to conquer fact through fiction + Sunning itself in the glass of Envy + Suspects all young men and most young women + Suspicion was her best witness + Sweet treasure before which lies a dragon sleeping + Telling her anything, she makes half a face in anticipation + That which fine cookery does for the cementing of couples + The intricate, which she takes for the infinite + The social world he looked at did not show him heroes + The alternative is, a garter and the bedpost + The exhaustion ensuing we named tranquillity + The mildness of assured dictatorship + Their idol pitched before them on the floor + They miss their pleasure in pursuing it + This mania of young people for pleasure, eternal pleasure + Tossed him from repulsion to incredulity, and so back + Two principal roads by which poor sinners come to a conscience + Utterance of generous and patriotic cries is not sufficient + We grew accustomed to periods of Irish fever + We like well whatso we have done good work for + We trust them or we crush them + Weak reeds who are easily vanquished and never overcome + Weak stomach is certainly more carnally virtuous than a full one + Were I chained, For liberty I would sell liberty + When we see our veterans tottering to their fall + When you have done laughing with her, you can laugh at her + Wins everywhere back a reflection of its own kindliness + Wits, which are ordinarily less productive than land + Woman descending from her ideal to the gross reality of man + Your devotion craves an enormous exchange +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Entire Short Works of George +Meredith, by George Meredith + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHORT WORKS OF MEREDITH *** + +***** This file should be named 4499-h.htm or 4499-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/9/4499/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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