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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/75215-0.txt b/75215-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1e41066 --- /dev/null +++ b/75215-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8825 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75215 *** + + + + + + BLACKWOOD’S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE. + NO. CCCXCV. SEPTEMBER, 1848. VOL. LXIV. + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + A REVIEW OF THE LAST SESSION, 261 + TO A CAGED SKYLARK. BY B. SIMMONS, 290 + SONNET.—TO DENMARK, 292 + LIFE IN THE “FAR WEST.” PART IV., 293 + THE CAXTONS. PART VI., 315 + LIFE AND TIMES OF GEORGE II., 327 + THE GREAT TRAGEDIAN, 345 + THE MOSCOW RETREAT, 359 + WHAT WOULD REVOLUTIONISING GERMANY BE AT? 373 + + EDINBURGH: + + WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, 45, GEORGE STREET; AND 37, PATERNOSTER ROW, + LONDON. + _To whom all Communications (post paid) must be addressed._ + SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM. + + PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH. + + + + + BLACKWOOD’S + + EDINBURGH MAGAZINE. + + NO. CCCXCV. SEPTEMBER, 1848. VOL. LXIV. + + + + + A REVIEW OF THE LAST SESSION. + + +There is perhaps no body of men confederated in her Majesty’s dominions +who are less properly the subjects of envy than the members of the +present Cabinet. A session, begun under circumstances of unexampled +commercial pressure, continued amidst insurrection abroad and turbulence +at home, and ending with an Irish rebellion, ought surely to have +exhibited some specimens of extraordinary and judicious legislation. +Slovenliness in high places, at no time decorous, is most undecent, +dangerous, and unendurable, at a period when the whole world is drunk +with the revolutionary elixir. France, that old irreclaimable bacchante, +is staggering to and fro, madly bellicose, and threatening incendiarism +in her cups. Germany, once thought too stolid to be roused, is hiccuping +for national unity, and on the fair way of contributing largely to the +overthrow of the equilibrium of power in Europe. The Irish symptoms have +by no means surprised us. The insurrection there is the inevitable fruit +of the measures and policy against which, for the last twenty years, we +have entered our strong and unflinching protest. The shameful truckling +of the Whigs to O’Connell and his scandalous followers; the +unconstitutional fostering of the Roman Catholic Church; and the +conciliation system, which, while it did gross injustice to the people +of England and Scotland, contributed to confirm the spirit of +improvidence and pauperism among the Irish, without in any way securing +their gratitude,—have resulted in a rebellion, imbecile, indeed, and +almost ludicrous in its issue, but not, on that account, less afflicting +to the supporters of order and the crown. + +More than once, too, we have been threatened at home by manifestations +of the insurrectionary spirit. In so densely populated a country as +this, it is impossible that commercial distress and slackness can +exist for any length of time, without trying sorely the patience and +the fortitude of the working classes. Such distress undoubtedly did +prevail, towards the close of last year, in a most alarming degree; +and throughout the whole spring there was a vast want of employment in +the manufacturing districts. The completion of some of the great lines +of railway, and in others the partial abandonment or suspension of the +works, caused by the extreme tightness of the money market, also threw +a great deal of unemployed labour on the public; and this evil was +increased by the heterogeneous character of the masses. Irish +immigration has increased to such an extent, that not only in all the +towns of Britain, but almost in every village, especially on the +western coast, there exists a Hibernian colony; unreclaimed by +civilisation—uneducated as the brutes that perish—knowing nothing of +religion, save as an idolatrous form, and professing rebellion as a +principle. This class have always formed a nucleus for disaffection, +and, but for the extreme reluctance of the native labourers to +fraternise with those children of Esau, the results might ere now have +been more serious than we altogether care to contemplate. As it was, +the British demagogue was always sure of finding a ready partisan, +confederate, and coadjutor in the western Celt; and we need hardly say +that the Chartist leaders availed themselves to the full of that +sympathy. We shall presently see how far this state of matters +received the attention of the men in power. + +In this critical position we were entitled to expect that the government +would have shown itself fully adequate to the crisis—that the causes of +distress, which lie at the root of turbulence and disaffection, would be +probed with a firm and prudent hand—that every possible relief and +assistance would be given to the home market—and that, above all, +nothing should be done which might tend, in the remotest degree, to +endanger the integrity of the empire. The welfare of Great Britain is a +terrible trust in times like these, and the responsibility of those who +have professed themselves ready to govern, and who, in fact, have rather +claimed the government than received it, is proportionally great. + +Let us then take a candid and impartial review of the proceedings which +have characterised this session of Parliament, extending over a period +more fertile in insurrection than any which the world has known. Let us +examine how Lord John Russell and his colleagues have acquitted +themselves in the discharge of their important functions. We shall be +sparing neither of praise nor blame: glad, indeed, if we can find an +opportunity of being lavish of the former, or, in case of neglect, of +stumbling upon an honest excuse. + +Our readers cannot have forgotten the circumstances under which this +last session of Parliament commenced. The commercial world has not, for +very many years, felt any thing like a corresponding crisis; and the +change is most remarkable, when we reflect that the depression followed +immediately upon a period of almost unexampled prosperity. Our opinion +is still unchanged, as to the causes which led to this. We pointed out, +in former articles, long before the pressure began, what must be the +inevitable result of a wholesale departure from our older system, of the +adoption of the free-trading economical views, and of the arbitrary +contraction of the currency, as devised by Sir Robert Peel. Every word +we then said has been verified to the letter; and, as we expected, the +very contingencies which we suggested as likely to operate in producing +this unfavourable state of matters, and which actually did subsequently +occur, have been paraded, by the free-traders and extreme bullionists, +as the causes of the whole disaster. It is of great importance that the +public should understand this subject clearly; and, therefore, without +repeating what we have elaborately attempted to demonstrate before, let +us merely remark that the tendency of free trade, and of fettered +currency combined, was to prostrate the whole commercial world, on the +first occurrence of a bad season and a scarcity of food, by stimulating +the exportation of gold, and at the same time by withdrawing its +representative. In fact, Sir Robert Peel constructed his machinery so, +that the result, in the event which we have instanced, could be +calculated on with mathematical certainty. The realised wealth of +Britain was rendered of no avail in this emergency, for the counters +which represented it were amissing, and nothing else would be received +in exchange. Hence arose that total prostration of credit, and +consequent lack of employment, which was so lamentably felt towards the +close of the year 1847. + +So intolerable was the pressure that, after much delay and repeated +refusals to interfere, the Whig ministers were compelled to bestir +themselves, and to suspend the operation of the Banking Act, in order to +save the country from actual convulsion. Parliament was summoned about +the middle of November, more, perhaps, for the sake of obtaining a bill +of indemnity for the suspension—a measure which, after all, did not lead +to any infringement of the Act—than with the view of boldly facing the +increasing difficulties of the country. Notwithstanding annual +disappointment, every one waited for the speech from the throne with the +most intense anxiety, trusting that at such a time some comforting +glimpses for the future, some earnest ministerial schemes would be +announced, likely to retrieve the commercial world from its +embarrassment. These expectations were destined to receive an immediate +check. The financial prose of the author of “Don Carlos” was as vague +and unsatisfactory as his halting tragic verse. There was, of course, a +decent show of regret for public calamity, but no vestige of an +intention to interpose any remedial measure. In point of finance, the +only intelligible topic contained in the speech was ominous of the +repeal of the Navigation Laws. Sanitary improvements, the great Whig +hobby, which they are constantly thrusting forward beneath the public +nose, were also recommended. Ireland, then testifying the humane and +Christian disposition of its inhabitants, by a series of the most +cold-blooded and revolting murders, was recommended to the benevolence +of the state. A treaty with the Republic of the Equator, touching the +suppression of the slave-trade, was announced; and the Whigs looked +forward “with confidence to the maintenance of the general peace of +Europe.” A more paltry programme was never yet submitted to the public +eye. + +The ministerial move in November, and the suspension of the Banking Act, +for however short a period, was in truth a remarkable circumstance. If +the suspension was right, it must necessarily imply that Sir Robert Peel +was utterly wrong in framing the measure as he did. We know that the Act +is useless for control in times of prosperity, and that it pinches us by +becoming operative under adverse seasons; and it was precisely when the +pinch was felt that the Whigs were forced to suspend it. True—a great +deal of the mischief had by that time been accomplished. Men, every whit +as respectable as the late Premier, had been driven into the Gazette for +the sheer want of temporary accommodation, and property sank in value as +rapidly as the mercury before a storm. But the true nature of the Act +had been felt and condemned by the public; and in no one instance do we +ever recollect to have witnessed a greater unanimity of opinion, hostile +to its endurance and principle, than prevailed, at least beyond the +walls of the House of Commons. If the public were wrong in this +impression, then it followed as a matter of course that the ministry +were highly blameable for the suspension; that Peel’s machine, being a +sound and salutary one, should have been left to do its work, and to +crush down as many victims as it could possibly entangle in its wheels. +But in truth, very few could be found to support such a proposition. If +credit is to be altogether annihilated in this country, whether by +Banking Acts like this, framed and forced upon us contrary to the +experience and in face of the remonstrance of the mercantile classes, or +by anarchy and mob rule, as has been the case in France, we must prepare +to bid an everlasting farewell to our greatness. Credit, it is in vain +to deny, has made the British nation. Credit may, like every thing else, +be pushed too far; but even over-trading is a far less calamity than a +restrictive system, which in a day can destroy the accumulated profits +of years, for the first carries with it its own antidote and cure. +Peel’s banking legislation, we do not hesitate to say, has been +productive of more harm to this country in three years, than has ever +occurred from any known cause within the same period of time; and the +obstinacy with which he has clung to his delusion, the sophistry which +he has invariably employed to shift the responsibility from his +shoulders, and the manœuvring style of his defence, may be consistent +with the character of the man, but are not worthy of the dignity of a +British statesman. + +In suspending the operation of the Banking Act, the Whigs tacitly +admitted that, in their opinion, whether lately adopted or not, there +was something fundamentally injurious and wrong with the measure. The +subject was a very serious one. You may bungle sanitary bills, pass +coercive laws, or tamper with the jurisprudence of the country, without +doing more than a limited amount of evil. But the subject of the +currency is so intimately and vitally connected with our whole +commercial greatness, that it must be handled with the utmost +precaution. A leak in a ship is not more dangerous than a flaw in a +monetary statute; and, when once discovered, not a moment should be lost +in repairing it. + +Not one member of the present Cabinet was in any way competent for the +task. It is most extraordinary, that the Whigs, after all their official +experience, should exhibit such a singular incapacity in every matter +which has the slightest connexion with finance. They do not seem to +comprehend the subject at all; and if their private affairs were +conducted in the same slovenly fashion as are those of the public when +unfortunately committed to their guidance, we should very soon see the +Gazette adorned with some elegant extracts from the Court Guide. The +only respectable Chancellor of the Exchequer whom they ever produced was +Mr Baring; and he, it is rumoured, was considered too scrupulous to be +admitted to that post again. Besides this, his views upon the currency +were known to be diametrically opposite to those entertained by Sir +Robert Peel. Sir Charles Wood, the worst financier that ever disgraced +the memory of Cocker, had committed himself before the suspension of the +Act, in an especially ridiculous manner. At one time, this gentleman was +quite jocund and hopeful, a firm believer in the existence of a +plethora, and smiled at the idea of a crisis with a happy air of mingled +indifference and satisfaction. Shortly afterwards, however, he took the +alarm, attempted to eat in his own words—an operation which he performed +with most indifferent grace,—and possibly became dimly conscious that a +Chancellor of the Exchequer has more duties to perform than to sign the +receipt for his salary. Sir Charles evidently was not the man to grapple +with the difficulty; and besides this, he could not afford to offend Sir +Robert Peel, or give a triumph to his political opponents, who had all +along denounced the Banking Act as an experiment of a perilous nature. +In this position, the Whigs adopted the safest course for themselves, if +not for the country. They asked for a committee, both in the Lords and +Commons, to consider the question of the currency, taking care, of +course, to nominate members whose opinions were already known. We +thoroughly agree with Mr Herries, that the inquiry was a work of +supererogation. The subject has been already investigated in every +possible way. Blue books have been issued from time to time, containing +an enormous mass of deliberate evidence; and that evidence has been +repeatedly analysed and dissected by writers of great ability and +statistical knowledge on either side. The public mind was perfectly ripe +for decision—indeed, for months the currency had formed almost the sole +topic discussed by the press; and it was peculiarly desirable that we +should no longer be left in a state of uncertainty, or exposed to the +operation of another panic. But such an arrangement did not suit the +Whigs. They were not prepared to come forward with an intelligible plan +for remedying the evil which they had already admitted to exist.—Not +secretly displeased, perhaps, at the general impression that the +Tamworth Baronet had committed a gross and unpardonable blunder, they +were unable to dispense with his support, and extremely unwilling to +give him umbrage—and therefore they took refuge in the convenient scheme +of committees. In vain did Mr Herries, in an able and statesmanlike +speech, point out the danger of delay, and exhibit the true causes of +the distress which had lately prevailed, and which was still weighing +upon the country. In vain did he implore ministers to face the question +manfully. His proposal that the House should proceed at once to the +consideration of the Banking Act, with the view of suspending +permanently its limitations, subject to a wholesome control, was lost by +a majority of forty-one. After a most lengthened examination, the +committees have issued their reports; and the result is another +difference of opinion, which leaves the whole matter open to renewed +discussion. The session has rolled away, and the Banking Act is left +untouched. + +We presume that the most confirmed free-trader within the four seas of +Britain will at all events admit this fact, that not one of the glorious +promises held out to us by the political economists and gentlemen of the +Manchester school has as yet been realised. We can hardly expect that +they will be candid enough to confess the fallacy of the views which +they then so enthusiastically maintained; and we doubt not that, in any +discussion, we should still hear some very ingenious explanations to +account for the non-advent of the anticipated blessings. But the boldest +of them will not deny that, in the mean time, all the fiscal changes +have been followed by a decline in our prosperity, a falling-off in +trade, and a consequent defalcation of the revenue. We have certainly +not gained in employment, we have lost money; and the best proof of it +is, the low ebb of the national revenue. Such being the case, it is no +wonder if the budget or financial statement of the minister was expected +with the most intense anxiety, and if, for the time, every other topic +was merged in the consideration of this. Political history does not +contain many episodes equal to that famous discussion—many instances of +utter helplessness like that exhibited by the Premier. + +We have already analysed the budget fully in another article,[1] and it +is not worth while now to recur to it for the purposes of exposure. The +deficit was estimated at no less than three millions for the year; and +this large sum was to be made up by the imposition of an augmented +income-tax. Considering what had taken place on the occasion when Sir +Robert Peel first proposed that discreditable and decidedly odious +impost, the assurances that it was to be merely temporary in its +endurance, and the specious pleas of necessity with which it was then +fortified,—it is no matter of surprise that the ministerial plan should +have been received with symptoms of marked disgust, even by those who +usually accord their support to the measures of the present government. +Mr Hume opined that the ministry were mad. Mr Osborne declared his +belief that, had there been a regularly organised Opposition, such a +financial statement would have been the death-warrant of any +administration. Even the Manchester section of the free-traders held +aloof from ministers, just as cowards might do from the support of a +drowning man. For however vexatious the admission might be, they were +bound in common gratitude to have recollected that the change from +indirect to direct taxation was effected mainly at their instance, and +to gratify their everlasting clamour. That change had resulted in a huge +deficit of the revenue; and, it being admitted on all sides that a +revenue must be raised—for we have not yet got the length of talking +openly of the sponge—they, at all events, might have been expected to +say something in favour of their friends, at a crisis of their own +producing. But there is no creature on earth so utterly selfish and +devoid of compunction, as your thorough-paced economical free-trader. +Point merely in the direction of his pocket, and he instantly howls with +terror. Five per cent income-tax was as obnoxious in the eyes of Cobden +and Bright as in those of other men who acted upon sounder principles; +and it is not uninstructive to remark the course which on this occasion +the ex-members of the League thought fit to pursue. It had been long +apparent to them, as it was to every man in the country, that the +revenue of the year must prove insufficient to meet the expenditure. +They knew that the unpalatable fact, when announced in Parliament, would +inevitably lead to a discussion regarding the policy of past measures, +and the wisdom of persisting in a course which hitherto had met with no +reciprocity from foreign countries, but, on the contrary, had been used +to increase the burden of our embarrassments. Such discussion was to be +deprecated and avoided by every possible means; and the readiest way of +effecting this seemed to be the suggestion of a plan whereby the +expenditure might be lessened and brought down to the level of the +revenue. This very desirable result was not so easy of accomplishment; +but nevertheless Mr Cobden undertook the task. The product was worthy of +the author. The wise, politic, and sagacious principle of the +calico-printer was to effect a saving by the material reduction of our +military and naval establishments, and the weakening of the national +arm. We hope our readers have not forgotten, were it merely from the +disgust they must have excited, the silly and egotistic remarks of this +complacent personage touching his travels, his observations, and his +mission as a peaceful regenerator. Free trade, which ought long ago to +have made Great Britain rich, had, according to his experiences, already +pacified the world. There was to be no more war—the French were the most +affectionate and domesticated men upon the face of the earth—and he, +Cobden, and his friend Cremieux, were interchanging congratulatory +letters on the advent of the new millennium. In our March Number for the +present year, we had the satisfaction of bestowing a slight castigation +upon Cobden, to which we beg now to refer those gentlemen who were so +wroth with us for presuming to question the _dicta_ of the oracle of the +West Riding. Within a few days after that article was penned, Europe was +wrapped in insurrection, and Cobden’s correspondent a member of a +revolutionary government! The French free-trader, Cremieux, was a +consenting party to the decree which drove forth the British labourers +from France, without warning and without compensation! The barricades of +June have demonstrated the affectionate and domesticated character of +the race whom Cobden delighteth to honour. If to cut, in cold blood, the +throats of prisoners, to shoot down the messengers of peace in spite of +their sacred calling, to mangle the bodies of the wounded, and these +brothers and countrymen, under circumstances unheard-of, save perhaps in +the tales of African atrocity—if these things constitute domestication, +then by all means let us fall back upon a more erratic and natural state +of society. How would we have stood at this moment, with regard to +Ireland, save for the fact of our being able to overawe rebellion by the +presence of an overwhelming military force? Did ever a man, professing +to be an apostle and a prophet, find himself landed in such a ridiculous +and ignominious posture? + +It is strange that the reception which he met with in the House of +Commons, upon the occasion of his first attack upon the army, did not +induce Cobden to pause before committing himself to a second absurdity. +But there are some men whose conceit is of such extravagant a +development, that no experience, no failure, no argument, will induce +them to part with one iota of a preconceived opinion. Such a person is +Cobden. Unabashed by the result of his previous exhibitions, callous to +shame, and impenetrable to ridicule, he again addressed the House on the +subject of the navy estimates, for the purpose of demonstrating the +propriety of an immediate reduction of the fleet. This was too much even +for Lord John Russell, who for once took heart of grace, and +administered a fair allowance of punishment to the arrogant and ignorant +free-trader. But the truth is, Mr Cobden’s career is ended. The _Times_, +once a warm admirer of this confident gentleman, has ceased to vouchsafe +him its protection, as will be seen from the following extract of 11th +August last:— + + + “What has he done? What have been his tactics? What is the sum and + substance of the statesmanship to which all the world looked forward + so anxiously? Simply this—a depreciation of our military and naval + establishments, and an emulation of America. The first constitutes the + whole gist and pith of the honourable member’s speeches; the latter, + of his policy. England is to disband her fleets and armies, to give up + her colonies, and to enter boldly on a course of Yankee statesmanship. + We would not wrong the hon. gentleman. We refer to his speeches on + Tuesday and Wednesday nights, as well as those delivered at the close + of the last year. What do they amount to? ‘Retrench your expenditure; + give up your ships; abolish the ordnance; send round embassies to + every country and court of Europe; tell them you have disarmed; ask + them to do the same; and then set to work, and tinker up your + constitution on the model of the United States. Do away with open + voting. Destroy the _privilege_ of the suffrage; abolish the virtue of + patriotic courage; give every man a vote, and _make_ every man vote in + secret. Then you will be rich and prosperous; your expenditure will at + once be curtailed, and your commerce will be diffused by the amity of + nations.’ This is the policy which is to save us from ruin, to pay our + debt and confirm our strength. All that we can say is, that one part + of it is well matched to the other; that both equally demonstrate the + ability of the counsellor to advise, as his vaticinations last winter + proved his ability to prophesy.” + + +And yet this is the person whom the Whigs lauded, and whom Sir Robert +Peel elaborately eulogised for his sagacity! + +By a somewhat curious coincidence, the budget was brought forward on the +very week when the French revolution broke out. Mr Cobden’s proposal, +therefore, met with no support; and it must have become evident, even to +the free-traders, that under such a threatening aspect as the Continent +presented, no sane man would agree to a reduction in our military force. +Still that party continued inflexibly opposed to the ministerial measure +for raising an adequate revenue, and, by doing so, we maintain that they +were guilty of an act of political ingratitude. In this situation, +ministers were fain to withdraw their proposal, and to continue the +income-tax as formerly, for a period of three years, without any +definite scheme of making up for the deficiency in the revenue. + +In fact, the session has passed away without a budget at all. That which +Lord John Russell tabled, has crumbled away like a thing of gossamer; +and, so far as financial matters are concerned, we are left in the +pleasant impression that we are getting into further debt, and have no +distinct means of paying it. To exhibit the recklessness with which the +Whigs regard all matters connected with revenue, it is sufficient to +remark, that with three millions of deficit admitted, our rulers think +this an advantageous and a proper time to sacrifice about fifty thousand +pounds annually, the produce of duties upon imported copper ore. + +Mr Osborne was right. No ministry, had there been a decent Opposition, +could have stood such an exposure. We even go further; for we believe +that—but for the French revolution, and the universal turbulence abroad, +which rendered it absolutely necessary that this country should maintain +a firm front, and exhibit no symptoms of internal weakness or +discord—the present ministry could not have existed for another +fortnight. As it is, we are in some respects glad that they have +continued in office; because, though late, they have been called upon to +act under circumstances which, in future, may give a new and improved +tone to Whig political opinions. + +Before quitting the budget, let us say a word or two regarding future +financial prospects. It is no doubt possible that trade may +revive—though, from the present aspect of European affairs, we are not +inclined to be at all sanguine in our expectations. We cannot, it is +quite clear, reduce our effective establishments; for no one can say +what emergency may arise to make us, not mere spectators, but active +partisans in a contest which we shall deeply and long deplore. Economy +we may practise at home, and for once we are of Joseph’s mind. There are +items in our civil and pension list clearly superfluous and +undefensible, and we wish to see these removed, though with a just +regard to vested interests and claims. We are no admirers of such +antiquated offices as that of Hereditary Grand Falconer; and we think +that Mr MacGregor’s inquiry, as to the heirs of the Duke of Schomberg, +who for a century and a half have been billeted upon the country to the +tune of three thousand a-year, deserved at least a courteous reply from +so very determined an economist as the Premier formerly proclaimed +himself. A doorkeeper may surely be maintained at a less annual expense +than the income of a country gentleman; and in many departments even of +government, we have certainly been over lavish of remuneration. But +these retrenchments, though they may give satisfaction to the nation, +can never free it from its embarrassments. The revenue has clearly sunk +to a point when it must be augmented by some decided and effective +measure; and it will well become us all to consider, even without +reference to past disputes, from what quarter the supply is to come. If +the decision, or at all events the expressed feeling, of the House of +Commons can be taken as an index of the popular wish, the nation will +not submit to an augmentation of the income-tax. No increased duties +upon excise can be levied,—indeed the cry is general for the removal of +those which exist. The window-tax—though it might be materially improved +by a more equitable arrangement, and by rating great houses without any +graduated scale—is decidedly unpopular. In fact, all direct taxation is +of an obnoxious character—it is the fertile source of murmur and of +discontent, and it never can be adjusted so as to render it palatable to +the payer. + +From what quarter, then, is it possible for us to recruit our revenue? +How are we to provide for casualties, and for a possibly increased +expenditure? That question must be solved in one way or the other, and +that without lack of time. It will not do to go on from year to year +with a continually increasing deficit, the arrears of which shall be +passed to the capital of our national debt—we must raise money, and the +only question is, how to do it. + +Within the last six years, says Sir Charles Wood, the nation has +remitted _seven and a half_ millions of annual taxation: since the +peace, says Lord John Russell, more than _thirty-nine millions_ of +annual taxes have been removed. Highly satisfactory this, no doubt—but +what does it prove? Simply that we have pushed the abolition of indirect +taxation too far. We have gone on, year after year, lowering tariffs, +for the purpose of stimulating foreign trade. We have thereby +unquestionably increased our imports, but we have failed in giving any +thing like a corresponding buoyancy to our exports. _Why_ we did this is +not very difficult of comprehension, if we look attentively to the state +of party which has subsisted for the last few years in this country. + +Free-trade, in so far as it lessens the cost of production, is clearly +the interest of the master-manufacturer who exports for the foreign +market; but, we repeat, it is the interest of no one else in the +community. Free-trade in certain articles,—that is, in raw material +introduced to this country for the purpose of being manufactured, sold +at home, or exported—is just and commendable. Free-trade in what are +called the necessaries of life, such as corn and cattle, does not tend +to the wealth of the country; but, for the present, we shall leave that +subject in abeyance. Free-trade in luxuries and in manufactured goods, +whenever these latter displace the home labourer in the home market, we +hold to be utterly injurious, and we shall presently state our reasons. + +The Manchester school have adopted, preached, and insisted upon free +trade in _all_ these branches. It was their interest to push the cotton +trade to its utmost possible limits, and to undersell all competitors in +every accessible market. Hence their favourite doctrine of cheapness, +which in appearance is so plausible, but which actually is so +fallacious, and the pertinacity with which they have continued to preach +it up. Hence the League, in the formation of which they displayed such +undoubted energy, and the immense sums which they lavished for the +popular promulgation of their creed. To conciliate these men, swollen to +a formidable number, and maintaining their opinions with extreme +plausibility, and no ordinary share of talent, became an important +object to the leaders who were then at the head of the two great parties +of the state. It is in vain to deny that a large body of the middle +classes were concerned in this movement, and, to gain their votes and +support, the unholy race for power began. + +Hence our legislation, whether under Peel or Russell, has been directed +for the last six or seven years invariably to one point. The man who +could boast of having removed the greatest amount of taxation was sure +to be the popular favourite; and we all know in what manner, and by what +means, Sir Robert Peel accomplished his share of the work. He first, on +the assurance that it was to be merely temporary, obtained an +income-tax, amply sufficient to redeem the financial deficit which was +the legacy of his predecessors. He next proceeded to make that +income-tax permanent, by paring at, and reducing the tariffs; and +finally, in order that his rival might not have the start of him in +popularity, he threw his party overboard, and consented to the abolition +of the corn-laws. + +But there is a point beyond which taxation cannot possibly be remitted; +and that point Sir Robert Peel had reached before he retired from +office. True, the effect of his measures had not yet become apparent, +but they were foreseen by many, and perhaps not unsuspected by himself +towards the close of his tenure of office. Further than as being +consenting parties to those reckless sacrifices of revenue, it would be +unfair to charge the Whigs with having brought us into our present +perplexity. Sir Robert Peel is the real author of this, and he cannot +escape the responsibility. + +Now upon two points—viz., the introduction of raw material for +manufacture, and of articles of food—we shall for the present forbear +joining issue with the free-traders. But the third one, that of the +admission of foreign manufactured goods at nearly nominal rates of duty, +is far too important to be passed over, even at the risk of repetition. + +The industry of this country is not confined to a few, but flows through +a thousand channels. There are, however, about four great trades in +which Britain can at present, owing to her mineral wealth, machinery, +and capital, compete with decided advantage against any other country in +the world. These are the cotton, the linen, the woollen, and the iron +trade, the exports of which articles amount to rather more than +TWO-THIRDS of the whole exports of the United Kingdom, or in round +numbers from thirty-three to thirty-five millions annually. It is to the +unceasing agitation of men connected with _these_ trades that we owe the +erection of the League, and the progress of free trade which has brought +us to so low a condition. + +It is no matter of surprise that the corn-laws were obnoxious to such +persons. With the agricultural interest they had no natural sympathy; +and being always able to command the monopoly of the home market, their +invariable effort has been to stimulate trade abroad to the very utmost +of their power. High wages interfered with their profits; and in order +to command the labour market, they formed their famous scheme for +reducing the price of food, by dealing a blow to agriculture at home, +and opening the ports to the admission of foreign corn. This cry was to +a certain degree popular, especially amongst those who were not +connected with their works; for the more intelligent of the operatives, +to their credit be it said, very early detected the selfishness of the +whole manœuvre, and saw, that with the price of food wages also would +inevitably decline. Foreign corn, however, was not enough for the +appetite of those grasping monopolists. They looked with envy on the +smaller non-exporting trades, who constituted a great portion of the +population, and who were defended in the home market, their only field, +by a reasonable scale of duties. It presently occurred to them, that if, +by any means this scale could be broken down, and the market inundated +with foreign manufactures, they might be enabled to export a larger +quantity of their own fabrics, reduce the price of articles which they +were personally inclined to consume, and finally reap another benefit by +cheapening labour—that is, by forcing a new class, through want of +employment, to compete with their former operatives. These we know to +have been the secret views of the League, and to these ends, for several +years past, they have bent the whole of their energies. How they have +succeeded, let the present state of the labour market tell. The tariffs +of 1846 were expressly framed in their favour. They have done half of +the anticipated work; for by the admission of foreign manufactures into +this country at a reduced rate of duty, they have thrown many thousands +of industrious handicraftsmen into the streets. The small shopkeeper has +been reduced from an employer into a mere retailer, and disaffection has +been engendered through the pressure of absolute misery. + +This may seem a highly-coloured picture; but if any man of intelligence +will take the trouble to make himself acquainted with the feelings, and +to listen to the individual histories of persons of the working-class, +he will find it to be strictly true. Four-fifths of the men who were in +attendance at the late Chartist meetings belonged in 1845 to the +non-exporting trades, were then in full employment, and probably as +loyal as any subjects in the kingdom. So, indeed, we believe they are +still, in so far as loyalty to the crown is concerned; for, thank God! +Republicanism has not taken any root in the empire. But they are utterly +discontented with the government, and furious at the apathy with which, +they think, their sufferings are regarded. They find that the repeal of +the corn-laws has done absolutely nothing in their favour. They find +that the lowered tariffs have opened a sluice-gate through which +articles of foreign manufacture have rushed in to swamp them; and they +gloomily, and even savagely, assert, that this state of things is the +result of a combination of the rich against the poor. So it is: but from +that combination the aristocracy and gentlemen of England stand apart. +The headquarters of the grinding-society are at Manchester, Liverpool, +and Sheffield; the machinery it uses are the arms of the League; the +master-spirits of the confederacy are Cobden, Wilson, and Bright. + +A very pregnant instance of the sympathy which is felt by the +free-traders and political economists for the suffering of the lower +orders, occurred during a debate towards the beginning of May last. We +specially notice the fact, because it proves that, however two +successive ministers may have forgot their duty to the people, there +exists, in a higher quarter still, the deepest commiseration for their +distress, and an earnest desire to alleviate it in every possible +manner. It appears from official documents that, during the first three +months of the present year, there were entered for home consumption, at +the port of London alone, foreign silk goods worth £400,000, equal to +the employment of 31,000 weavers; lace and needlework worth £40,000, or +sufficient to displace the produce of 4000 workwomen and sempstresses; +and 7000 dozen of boot and shoe fronts, enough to keep 1200 cordwainers +in full employment. So near as we can calculate, the duty payable upon +those articles, under the tariff of 1845, would have amounted to +£88,150: at present it is not more than £65,575, thus entailing a +primary loss of £22,575 to the revenue. Such an influx of goods, at a +peculiarly unprofitable season, was tantamount to displacing the labour +of 36,200 persons, who were to be thrown upon the public charity, +without any other resource. A short time after these facts became known, +an order was issued from the Lord Chamberlain’s office, containing her +Majesty’s commands to the ladies of England, that in attending court +they should appear attired in dresses exclusively the production of +native industry. Yes! our gracious Queen, whose heart is unchilled by +the cold dogmas of political economy, felt like a woman and a sovereign, +and resolved, on her part at least, to rescue from famine and misery so +many thousands of her poorer subjects. It is most gratifying to know +that this exercise of the royal care and benevolence has met with its +best reward, for in the midst of all the distress which has +unfortunately prevailed, the class for whose benefit those timely orders +were issued have been kept in employment and food: the example set from +the throne has been widely and generously followed. But will it be +believed, that this act of mercy gave huge umbrage to the free-traders, +and was fiercely commented on in their journals as a gross infringement +of the principles of enlightened government? Therefore, in the eyes of +the Leaguers, it seems a crime to interfere for the support of the +British workman,—and unjustifiable interference with Providence to give +work to the labouring poor! + +But this is not all. Lord John Russell, on being asked in the House of +Commons whether he had any share in suggesting this philanthropic +action, or whether the sole credit of it appertained to his royal +mistress, was not slow in uttering his disclaimer. “_He_ had not advised +the crown in the matter,—he could only say that the order had issued +from the Chamberlain’s office.” After a vain attempt to show that no +extra quantity of goods had been imported, but that the apparent +increase arose solely from the cessation of smuggling, he proceeded to +remark:—“But if more goods _are_ now entered, and thereby a particular +class do suffer inconvenience or distress, _yet these entries must +stimulate the production and exportation of the classes of goods for +which the imports are exchanged_.” There spoke the convert to the +League—the truckler to Cobden and Co.! There, from the lips of a British +minister, fell the most un-British, the most unpatriotic doctrine that +ever yet was enunciated! Said we not truly that the whole object of free +trade is to put down and exterminate the non-exporting trades, for the +exclusive benefit of the few monster monopolies? The Premier concluded +an ungracious, halting, and discreditable speech with the somewhat +unnecessary announcement that, under all circumstances, he thought he +should be the last person to advise her Majesty to make an alteration in +the commercial policy which of late years had been pursued. + +We need hardly remark that, in the present instance, the importation of +these foreign goods could in no way “stimulate the production or +exportation” of any kind of British manufacture whatever. The articles +in question were sent from France, at a time when every thing was +unsaleable, and were sold in London for hard cash, at a heavy discount. +Even Cobden need not have grudged this little encouragement to +Spitalfields and Bethnal Green. He did not sell a yard of calico the +less. Gold, and not shirting, was what the French wanted, what they +bargained for, and what they received. But let us see a little more of +the sympathy of the Leaguers for the poor, and respect for the +sovereign, who surely might be left, in matters of this kind, to +exercise some discretion of her own. + +Colonel Thompson, representing _an exporting constituency_, was furious +at the alleged interference. “He would ask whether there was any +charity, any humanity, any justice, any policy, any common-sense in +representing hostility to one portion of the manufacturing classes of +the country, to come from a quarter of which he was sure no one in that +House wished to speak otherwise than with feelings of the utmost +affection and reverence?” We are not sure that we quite understand this +outburst of the gallant Colonel, which we copy verbatim from the columns +of the _Spectator_, but, as he talks about charity and humanity with +reference to his waistcoat and pantaloon exporting constituency of +Bradford, we take him to mean that that favoured place should flourish, +and Spitalfields utterly disappear. This is pure Leaguer’s doctrine, +distinctly redolent of the Bastile! + +Mr John Bright was also true to his order. The partisan of peace opined +that “there was no difference between driving out workmen, and keeping +out their work: though no order had been issued to exclude foreign work, +yet the effect of the order really given is, that French silks, which +would have been consumed, will not be used, _and English taken instead_. +It should be known, that from the late convulsions, the contingent +depression of trade, and the low price of French silks in France, very +large quantities of them have been purchased and brought to this +country. The announcement in question might therefore entail _great loss +on large capitalists_, and ruin on many of smaller means. The kindness +to the Spitalfields weavers would then be done only at a cost of loss +and injury to other classes.” Quite right, Friend Bright! the first +persons to be guarded are _your_ speculators and _your_ capitalists. The +poor operative, who is not in your line, may starve for any thing you +care. There is a protective spirit about this, which absolutely charms +us. We wonder that Mr Bright did not on a former occasion foresee that +the repeal of the corn-laws might entail great loss on large +proprietors, and ruin on many of smaller means! + +Sir William Molesworth considered that “it was _a silly and foolish_ +order; and he was informed, on the best authority, that there was not +the slightest chance of its being obeyed.” We leave this remark of +Molesworth without any comment, merely asking his authority for holding +that, to assist in feeding the hungry, and maintaining our poorer +countrymen by the exercise of their own industry, is a silly and a +foolish act; and requesting him to consider how far his chivalrous title +is consistent with such language, when applied to an order emanating +directly from his sovereign. + +This little episode is very instructive, as elucidating the views of the +free-traders. The great exporting trades have combined to crush and +annihilate the small handicrafts, and this they are rapidly doing +through the operation of these lowered tariffs. If direct taxation were +to be introduced, and the custom-house virtually abolished, in so far as +regards articles of foreign manufacture, the thing would be done at +once—for no one would wear clumsy English boots when he could get French +ones at a lower price; or British instead of Parisian gloves; or silk +from Spitalfields rather than the less costly fabric of Lyons. The more +honest of the free-traders make no scruple of announcing their views. +They admit that the realisation of their maxim, to sell in the dearest +and buy in the cheapest market, implies the ruin of every non-exporting +trade, and they seem absolutely resolved to push their theory to the +utmost. At present Sir Robert Peel has managed it so, that, without +being absolutely annihilated, the poorer classes are ground down to the +lowest point. We ask the shopkeepers, artisans, and smaller +manufacturers, who have no connexion with the foreign market, whether +this is not truly the case,—and if so, whether they are inclined to +allow this cruel, selfish, and inhuman system to be carried any +further—nay, whether they will not at once resolve to make determined +head against it? But for the obstinate blindness of the political +economists, we would appeal to that dearest of all considerations, their +own safety. Do they really think it possible, even were it politic, to +drive the whole operative industry of Britain into the compass of a few +exporting trades. Can they make millions of men change their habits of a +sudden, and walk from the country towns and villages,—wherein, before +Sir Robert Peel introduced the foreigner to swamp them, they had +supported themselves by the exercise of their craft,—to the factory or +the mine, or the furnace, or the printing work, there to spend the +remainder of their existence in twisting, digging, smelting, and +stamping, for the benefit of Cobden and his confederates? The idea is +absolute madness. Already we see the effects of false and unpatriotic +legislation, in Chartist meetings and processions, in agitations for +universal suffrage, in crime three-fold increased, and in augmented +poor-rates. What are considerations of sanatory reform or of public +instruction compared to these? Will men thank you for soap and tracts, +even should these articles be gratuitous, if you take their labour away +from them, and legislate for one class alone, as has been the case of +late years? Can you expect to make them loyal and peaceable, whilst you +deny them the means of obtaining a fair day’s wage for a fair day’s +labour—whilst you not only encourage, but convert into an actual fact +the idea that a large portion of the poor are oppressed, and drive them +to seek a remedy in attempts to procure a more popular representation? +Free trade has been the great incentive to Chartism, and, unless men +return speedily to their senses, it may chance to be the terrible +promoter of revolution. + +But what is to be the real amount of the deficit? No man living can +tell. Lord John Russell estimated it at about three millions, and +subsequently Sir Charles Wood announced that, by sundry savings and +sales of old stores—which latter source of revenue very much resembles +the case of a gentleman parting with his body clothes to make up for his +annual expenditure—it might be reduced to a million and a half. Since +then we have received the official accounts of the trade of the kingdom +for the six months ending 5th July 1848; and we very much fear, from a +perusal of these, that the Chancellor of the Exchequer has understated +his difficulties. Our exports, for the sake of which every other +interest has been sacrificed, have fallen off to an alarming extent. +During the corresponding six months of last year the declared value of +our exports was £25,395,243: the whole amount for this period is +£21,571,939, or very nearly FOUR MILLIONS less on the half year! Here is +another staggering instance of the utter futility of free trade. The +decrease of export for the year 1846, as compared with 1845, was about +two millions—and now it is going on at the rate of four millions for +half the time! Was there ever a more pregnant proof of the impossibility +of forcing markets? + +Looking to the imports, we find some very curious results. Lord John +Russell took great credit for the increased consumption of sugar +consequent on his West Indian experiments, which we shall presently have +occasion to notice more minutely; and predicted a still further +consumption and increase to the revenue. Let us see how that matter +stands. The following is the total of sugar imported to this country for +the first six months of the last three years respectively. + + 1846. 1847. 1848. + Sugar unrefined, cwts., 2,956,986 3,967,686 2,960,430 + Sugar Refined, 54,249 39,344 50,863 + Sugar Candy, 1 1,025 507 + Sugar Molasses, 202,264 411,263 191,531 + ————————— ————————— ————————— + 3,213,500 4,419,318 3,203,331 + ————————— ————————— ————————— + +So that we are absolutely importing _less sugar_ in 1848 than we did in +1846, before Lord John Russell and his sapient colleagues chose to give +the _coup de grace_ to the colonists! So much for increased revenue from +that source. + +In the articles of raw material for manufacture there is a considerable +increase; and, should money be obtainable at easy rates throughout the +coming winter, this may be a source of real congratulation. But from +recent symptoms, and the insanity of ministers in refusing to face the +difficulties of the Bank Restriction Acts, we very much dread another +recurrence of tightness, in which case industry must inevitably be +paralysed as before. It is, however, comforting to know that we have a +stock of raw material in hand, and that our condition in that respect +has improved since last year, when the warehouses were nearly drained. +The aggregate amount of cotton, wool, flax, hemp, and silk which have +been imported for the last six months is in the ratio of 28,811,825, to +27,372,502 for the same period in 1847. + +But the influx of foreign manufactures is the most singular feature of +all; and we do entreat the most serious consideration of our readers to +this very pressing point. What we have already said regarding the +annihilation of the small trades in this country, by the total +withdrawal of protection, receives the amplest confirmation from these +official tables; and, if we are wise, something must be done, with the +least possible delay, to remedy the evils which have been entailed upon +us, through our blind submission to the pernicious doctrines of the +free-traders. Do honourable members really believe, that by agitating +the ballot, or bringing forward schemes for extended suffrage, they will +give work to the unemployed, or put bread in the mouths of the starving? +If, instead of attempting to gain a little transient popularity by +advocating organic changes, they would seriously address themselves to +the task of revising the tariffs, and so encouraging the home market, +they would be of real use to the country at this momentous time. For +momentous it is most certainly. The discovery of a deliberate plan for +general incendiarism in Liverpool, the mobs in Glasgow, and the +disturbances at Bradford, are all symptoms of disaffection, and all +proceed from one cause—from the sacrifice of native industry at the +shrine of the Moloch of free trade. Even now, while we are writing, +intelligence has arrived of the arrest of armed Chartists in London and +in Manchester; assassination has begun at Ashton, and every post brings +in tidings of some new commotion. Is this a time for Parliament to +separate without any remedial measure? Is this a time to allow our +markets to be inundated with foreign produce; each fresh cargo +displacing our own industry, and further adding to our embarrassment, by +hastening on another monetary crisis by the exportation of bullion in +exchange? This is the work commenced by Peel, and consummated by the +incapable Whigs. God knows how it will end, if wiser, more unselfish, +and more patriotic men are not speedily summoned to take the lead in her +Majesty’s councils. + +No account is given, as in former years, of the amount of foreign linen +and woollen manufactures imported, or of several other important +branches of trade upon which Sir Robert Peel abolished the duty. Why +this omission has taken place we do not know, unless it be for the worst +of all reasons, that the results were too startling for disclosure. But +we shall take the statistics of the silk manufactured trade alone, from +which it will be seen that, in two years after the relaxation of the +duties, we have _doubled our imports_, thereby throwing immense numbers +of our own operatives out of employment. + + FOREIGN SILK MANUFACTURES, ENTERED UNDER TARIFF OF 1846. + 1846. 1847. 1848. + Silk or satin broad stuffs, 64,269 lbs. 85,589 lbs. 141,179 lbs. + Silk ribbons, 79,541 95,906 95,881 + Gauze or crape broad stuffs, 4,383 4,053 5,127 + Gauze ribbons, 11,268 26,166 26,312 + Gauze, mixed, 18 8 39 + Mixed ribbons, 687 1,650 1,244 + Velvet broad stuffs, 2,935 4,822 6,558 + Velvet embossed ribbons, 4,183 3,141 10,530 + ——————— ——————— ——————— + 167,284 lbs. 221,335 lbs. 286,870 lbs. + +Now if, as it is fair to suppose, the same increase, or even half of it, +has taken place in the importation of other articles upon which the +duties were removed, but which have been quietly withdrawn from the +official tables; these statistics are enough to condemn free trade +before any tribunal in the world. Mark how the matter stands. Here is a +_doubled importation_ of foreign manufactured goods. One half at least +of these goods have come in to displace your home manufacture. The other +half would have come in as formerly to supply the rich, who would have +had to pay a high duty for the gratification of their fancy. That duty, +where reduced, is now lost to the revenue. Who is the gainer, then? No +one, save the rich consumer; whilst, on the other hand, the revenue has +suffered, and home industry has received a prostrating blow. But—say men +of the Cobden school—though the silk weaver, and embroiderer, and +milliner, and plaiter, and shoemaker, and tailor, may have suffered, the +country is no loser, because WE export goods in return for the articles +of import. Do you, gentlemen? Let us turn to the export tables, and see +how your account stands. Recollect, you have undertaken to show us a +corresponding export of your goods to meet the influx of foreign +manufactures. Unless you can do this, your case is utterly worthless, +and you stand as detected impostors. + + EXPORT OF PRINCIPAL MANUFACTURES FROM THE UNITED + KINGDOM. + 1846. 1847. 1848. + Cotton manufactures, £8,899,272 £9,248,835 £8,023,825 + Ditto yarn, 3,523,793 2,628,616 2,214,431 + Linen manufactures, 1,389,520 1,502,770 1,413,819 + Ditto yarn, 410,277 315,196 236,076 + Silk manufactures, 421,910 494,806 263,798 + Woollen yarn, 377,160 444,797 291,985 + Ditto manufactures, 3,143,550 3,564,754 2,578,470 + ——————————— ——————————— ——————————— + £18,165,482 £18,199,774 £15,022,404 + +The result is a loss on these articles alone of THREE MILLIONS in six +months, and we are to set that against doubled imports, free of duty, +and displacing British employment! Here are the glorious effects of Sir +Robert’s commercial legislation! + +What, then, _has_ gone out to meet the import which is rapidly promoting +Chartism among us, by impoverishing the poorer classes? Just what we +predicted long ago—GOLD; the idol without which men must starve, but +which free trade periodically sweeps from out our grasp. The lowered +tariffs have operated peculiarly unfavourably at the present crisis—not +perhaps so much in the branch of silk manufactures as in others; for it +is remarkable that the increase of import in 1847, over that of 1846, is +quite as large as the increase of the present over the former year; and +had Lord John Russell been alive to the duties of his situation, or +capable of comprehending the effects which a glut of foreign goods must +produce on the home market, he ought instantly to have brought in a bill +augmenting the customs duties, and hurried it through Parliament without +a moment’s unnecessary delay. The madness of encouraging increased +imports, whilst exports are falling, is utterly inconceivable to any who +have not eaten and drunk with Cobden; and it is quite possible that some +who have been admitted to that precious privilege, may agree with us if +they will take the trouble to consider the foregoing tables. We are not +the only sufferers. America is beginning to understand that increased +imports are by no means decisive symptoms of a healthy commercial state; +and the following extract from Transatlantic correspondence, which we +copy from the money article in the _Sun_ newspaper of 16th August last, +is pregnant with meaning in the present posture of affairs. + + + “The whole of Europe is in a terrible condition, and our only hope is, + that Great Britain may escape the blast which has swept from one end + of the Continent to the other with such devastating effect. If England + escape, we shall continue to find extensive markets for our products, + and our prosperity will be partially preserved. Our markets on the + Continent have almost become extinct, so that the worst in that + particular has already been realised; but, every week or month, + consumption in that section of the world is restricted or limited—so + much the more injurious must be the revolution causing such a state of + things. With the exception of Great Britain, our European export trade + has been literally annihilated; but _unfortunately, our import trade + with these countries_ has not met with a similar fate, but on the + contrary, has rather increased than otherwise. Importers and + speculators in this country have taken advantage of the financial + embarrassments growing out of the Revolution, which the manufacturers + of France and Europe generally have laboured under, and have purchased + of them for cash, goods at one half their cost, and have filled our + markets. _A portion of the specie which has been shipped from this + port within the last four months went abroad for this purpose_; and + while our exports had become reduced to the lowest limit, and exchange + drawn upon previous shipments of produce was coming back protested, + millions of dollars of gold and silver were going forward to purchase + goods which could not be obtained on the usual credit. In this way, + our whole foreign trade has become deranged, and we have thus far + borne the brunt of the commercial revulsions and political revolutions + in Europe.” + + +What is to be said of a system which swamps our home market, whilst at +the same time it promotes a drain of gold? What is to be said of the +system which makes a drain of gold almost tantamount to national +bankruptcy? + +Having hitherto dealt with the subjects of the currency and finance, let +us now glance for a moment at the new legislation for our colonies. We +need not repeat the tale of the disasters into which the West Indies +have been plunged, or the ruin which has befallen many of our own most +respectable citizens, who, to their misfortune, had embarked their +capital and fortunes in sugar-growing estates, trusting to British faith +and protection for at least an adequate return. The veriest zealot could +not have wished to have seen the crime of slavery more bitterly avenged; +but in what a manner! Great Britain, after having made a sacrifice of +twenty millions to emancipate the slave population in her own +colonies,—a sacrifice to her, though not an adequate compensation to the +planters,—after having declared to the whole world her determination no +longer to participate in the profits of forced labour,—after having made +treaties, and equipped armaments for the suppression of the +slave-trade,—suddenly changed her policy, admitted slave-grown sugar +from foreign states, first, at a high, and, latterly, at so low a duty, +that her own colonies, already impoverished, could no longer afford to +defray the cost of production. Here, again, the principle of free trade +has been triumphant and ruinous; here, again, the exporting trades have +carried their point, not only against the interests of the colonists, +but against those of benevolence and Christianity. The cause of the +Blacks has been abandoned for the tempting bribe of cheap sugars, of an +augmented demand for cottons and blankets to supply the gangs of Cuba, +and of machinery for Brazil, to enable the planter more utterly to +prostrate Jamaica. + +In February last we reviewed with great care all the evidence which we +could collect regarding the West Indian interest. The conclusion to +which we arrived was contained in the following paragraph:—“And what is +it that our colonists ask? What is the extravagant proposal which we are +prepared to reject at the cost of the loss of our most fertile +possessions, and of nearly two hundred millions of British capital? +Simply this, that in the meantime such a distinctive duty should be +enforced as will allow them to compete on terms of equality with the +slave-growing states. Let this alone be granted, and they have no wish +to interfere with any other fiscal regulation. And what would be the +amount of differential duty required? _Not more, as we apprehend, than +ten shillings the hundredweight._” Having hazarded this statement so +early, it was certainly gratifying to find that an impartial committee +of the House of Commons, reporting four months later, had, after a full +investigation of the whole case,—and of course with official documents +before them, the correctness of which could not admit of a +doubt,—arrived at precisely the same result. The proposition for a +differential duty of ten shillings, which was finally agreed to by the +committee, was actually made by a member whose general opinions are +understood to lean towards the side of free trade,—we mean Sir Thomas B. +Birch, one of the representatives for Liverpool. + +This resolution of course implied a direct condemnation of the Whig Act +of 1846, which the West Indians bitterly complained of as a flagrant +breach of faith, and as having put the coping-stone on their +misfortunes. It was the resolution of an independent and intelligent +parliamentary committee, founded upon a mass of evidence derived from +every quarter; and in a matter of this sort, wherein so vast an interest +as that of our most valuable colonies was concerned, it might have been +expected that the report would be treated with deference, even though it +might in some degree impugn the sagacity of a prime minister, by +exposing the results of his former reckless legislation. Such was not +the case. Had the seven wise men of Greece sate upon that committee, +their report would have been utterly indifferent to Lord John, who +immediately came forward with a counter-scheme, which had not even the +merit of consistency to give it colour. He proposed a new sliding-scale +of duties, the result of which will be, that next year the colonists +will have a protection against the slave-owners of seven shillings in +the article of clayed, and five-and-sixpence in that of muscovado +sugar,—the boon to taper away annually, until, in 1854, the protective +duty will be reduced to three shillings on the one article, and two +shillings upon the other. This is the doom of the West Indies,—and we +expect nothing less than an immediate stoppage of the supplies for the +maintenance of the colonial governments. Robbed as they have been, +ruined as they are, and all through a course of most reckless and +unprovoked legislation, it is in vain to hope that any further capital +will be embarked in the cultivation of these islands. For the benefit of +economists at home, and the clamourers for cheap sugar, it may be as +well to record that this new sliding-scale is to be accompanied with a +_loan_ of £500,000, in addition to £160,000 already guaranteed this +session, for the purposes of promoting immigration, and that at a period +when the annual deficit was originally calculated at _three_ millions! +The amendment of Sir John Pakington, founded upon the resolutions of the +committee, was negatived in a full house by the small majority of +fifteen. + +This has been by far the most important debate of the session; and at +one time it was confidently expected that ministers would have been +defeated. Sir Robert Peel, however, came to their rescue at the last +stage. Oleaginous and plausible as ever, the wily baronet began his +speech by deploring the misfortunes of the West Indians, repudiating +mere pecuniary considerations, and calling to mind old struggles, in +which these colonies had stood by the side of the mother country. This +sympathetic introduction boded little mercy for the parties it seemed to +favour. Sir Robert had acquiesced in the Act of 1846, and it was now +rather difficult to back out from that position. But soothing measures +might be adopted, the salaries of governors defrayed by the mother +country, and _perhaps_, if, after due consideration, it should be found +expedient to remove the blockading squadron from the coast of Africa, +part of the sums so saved might be devoted to colonial purposes. Then +came a discourse upon the merits of irrigation, which would have done +credit to a lecturer in an agricultural society. Finally, Sir Robert +rested his future hopes for the Indies upon other, and what appear to us +peculiarly objectionable considerations. He has no confidence in the +tranquillity of Cuba and Brazil, and he hints at an insurrection of the +slaves being probable, if emancipation is not granted. We shall not +comment more than lightly upon the decency of such a hint. Desirable as +emancipation may be, it is, to say the least, questionable whether it +would be cheaply bought by so terrible a catastrophe as a general rising +of the black barbarian population against the whites; and in the event +of such a misfortune occurring either in the above slave colonies or in +the United States, it is extremely problematical whether our own dearly +bought emancipation would effectually prevent the contagion from +spreading to the free colonies. But we will tell Sir Robert a fact of +which he ought to be fully cognisant. The greatest enemies and obstacles +to emancipation, in the Spanish and South American States, have been +himself and his free-trading allies. It is well known to many here, and +notorious in the West Indies, that at the very time when the ill-advised +Act permitting slave-grown sugar to be introduced into this country was +produced, negotiations were actually pending in Cuba for the immediate +emancipation of the slaves. The results of that Act were the instant +abandonment of such an idea, the withdrawal of the slaves from the +coffee plantations to the sugar-fields, double work rigorously enforced, +and an enormously increased importation of human beings from the coast +of Africa. With such a bonus held out to the Cuban planter, such a huge +increase of consumption in this country as Lord John Russell gloatingly +contemplates, it would be utter insanity to expect that emancipation can +take place through any other means than blood, rapine, plunder, and +incendiarism. Sir Robert and the free-traders have effectually precluded +any milder method. Had they been true to the principles professed by +this country at the time of our own emancipation, there is every human +reason to believe that by this time Cuba would have been a free colony. +Had that event taken place, slavery, and of course the slave-trade, +would have received its death-blow. But now when we have given, and +continue to give, a direct premium to the abhorred system, when we have +shown that we love its produce so much, as to hold the welfare of our +own colonies as nothing in comparison, it is mere Jesuitry to cant about +the probability of voluntary freedom. This is the worst and most +indefensible argument, if, indeed, it can be brought within the category +of arguments, which has yet been advanced from any quarter in support of +the false legislation and determined opposition of ministers to the just +claims of the colonists. + +In the course of the debate a singular discussion arose, which tends to +throw some light upon the management of the Colonial Office. A most +important despatch upon the state of Jamaica had been received from +Governor Grey, and this was withheld from the select committee then +sitting, although Mr Hawes, the Under-secretary for the Colonies, was +directly questioned as to its existence. We do not wish to enter into +the details of this matter, or to cast any imputation upon the probity +of Mr Hawes, who, in explanation, was fain to take shelter under the +plea of a mistake. But the circumstance certainly did look awkward, and +the doubts, not only of the House but of the country, were far from +being removed by the extreme acrimony displayed by the Premier, in his +injudicious defence of his subordinate. Never in our recollection has a +Prime Minister shown so remarkable a want of temper and of courtesy to a +political opponent, as was exhibited by Lord John Russell in his reply +to Lord George Bentinck. We should be glad, for the sake of the utterer, +that the speech could be erased from the pages of Hansard, even were we +to lose, at the same time, the brilliant and withering reply which it +elicited from Mr D’Israeli. A suppression certainly had occurred, +whether through mistake or otherwise; and the matter was thought so +serious that Earl Grey volunteered an explanation in the Upper House. He +had better have let it alone. New charges of suppression were preferred; +and finally Earl Grey admitted that, on one occasion at least, he had +quoted passages from a Jamaica memorial in support of his argument, +totally and purposely omitting to read other sentences, which gave a +different construction to the meaning intended to be conveyed! This is +popularly said to be the method adopted by a certain personage, who +shall be nameless, whenever he has occasion to quote Scripture, and yet +it is practised and defended by a high official functionary! We copy the +remarks of our contemporary the _Spectator_, as very apposite on this +occasion. + + + “The personal dispute about the conduct of Lord Grey and Mr Hawes, and + the strictures of Lord George Bentinck, which began on Friday last, + have usurped a large share of the week’s debates; not altogether to so + little purpose as most personal squabbles, since it throws + considerable light on the administration of colonial affairs. The + general impression, when all sides have had their say, is, that Mr + Hawes and Lord Grey did not intend to cheat Lord George Bentinck’s + committee by the deliberate suppression of evidence; but the very + statements made by ministers, in defence, unveil reprehensible + practices. It seems that the routine of the Colonial Office is such as + to preclude any security against ‘mistakes’ so grave as the + withholding of most important despatches. And Lord Grey claims, as an + admitted official privilege, to pick out bits of evidence in his + exclusive possession, that make for a particular view, although those + bits may be torn from a context that should perfectly refute that + particular view! In effect, he upholds the doctrine that a government + is not bound to lay before parliament all the information that reaches + the departments, even though that information be not of a secret kind, + but may select such parts as go to bolster up the preconceived + crotchets of the minister for the time being. In this case, Lord Grey + had preconceived crotchets hostile to the West Indian colonies, whom + he treated as if he were the Attorney-General prosecuting a state + criminal. He has carried beyond its usual bounds the spirit of the + _Anti_-Colonial Office, in Downing Street. With this spirit of + animosity the Secretary for the Colonies coupled the most singular + exhibition of personal trifling, and self-worship. He appealed to the + name of his father, as a reason for not accusing himself! and pointed + to the ‘awful warning across the Channel,’ as a reason for not + preferring charges calculated to weaken English statesmen. ‘Don’t talk + of inefficiency or dishonesty,’ cries he—‘it is dangerous; for such + talk has upset governments abroad.’ Yes, shaky and dishonest + governments; but what is Lord Grey afraid of?” + + +As for the sugar duties, we do not by any means believe that this is a +final settlement of the question. If free trade, indeed, should continue +to progress, there is not much hope for the colonists; but, to the +observant eye, there are unmistakeable symptoms of reaction apparent in +this country, and a very general sympathy for the case of the West +Indians. Our greatest fear is, that irretrievable mischief will be +wrought before there is an opportunity of applying a remedy. It seems +cruel mockery, after all that has happened, to exhort the planters to +persevere, and to prevent those valuable islands from lapsing into a +state of wilderness: and yet there seems no alternative between such +perseverance and abandonment. This only we can say, that should the +commercial principles, which we have advocated throughout, be again +recognised and adopted—should true and not hollow Conservatism once more +triumph over Whig effrontery and weakness, this mighty grievance will +assuredly be the earliest redressed. + +Referring again to the speech from the throne as the text for the +parliamentary campaign, we find the Navigation Laws specially marked out +either for modification or repeal. This subject having been fully dealt +with in our July Number, we offer no further remarks upon the policy +which dictated such a plan; indeed, no remarks are necessary, for since +then the measure has been postponed. This is a sorry result for +ministers; for although they plead, in justification, that other +important business had prevented them from forcing on the consideration +of this very serious question, their protestations do not seem to +satisfy the gentlemen who are most clamorous against the shipping +interest of Britain. It has been more than hinted in certain quarters, +that this postponement is a small stroke of Whig policy or prudence, for +the purpose of keeping alive as long as possible a theme of dissension +among the Conservatives. We offer no opinion as to this conjecture, +which may be substantially true or not. Certain it is that the proposal +for the repeal of those laws has been encountered, outside of the House +of Commons, with a storm of disapprobation; and that, if the feeling of +the public, as opposed to the interests of the exporters, has any weight +with the legislature, the ministerial bill will be strangled before it +can receive the royal assent. So great was the anxiety displayed, that +on the day after it became known in Glasgow that the bill was not to be +pushed forward this session, every vessel in the Clyde was decorated +with flags, in token of thankfulness for the respite. We hope that every +advantage will be taken in the interval to force upon the attention of +parliament the resolution of the well-affected people of this country, +to maintain intact that law which has been the source of our naval +supremacy, and which was declared, by no less an authority than Adam +Smith, to be as wise as if it had been dictated by the most deliberate +wisdom. + +A considerable number of minor bills have been quietly allowed to drop. +This is not matter of lamentation, for, as far as we could comprehend +the principle of most of them, they were utterly worthless and uncalled +for. The Bill for the Removal of the Jewish Disabilities was, we rejoice +to say, thrown out in the House of Lords, the peers being of opinion +that the British Legislature should continue a Christian assembly. Lord +John, in the plenitude of his zeal for the Sanhedrim, gave notice of a +motion for altering the form of the oaths required to be taken by each +member of Parliament at his admission, and so introducing the Jew by a +convenient little postern. But somehow or other, as the session +progressed, the ardour of the Premier cooled, and Baron Rothschild is at +present left with as little chance of adorning the benches of St +Stephens as ever. Mr Joseph Hume and his party have got up a radical +alliance, for the extension of the suffrage and various other organic +schemes, and it was understood that Sir Joshua Walmsley was to have the +honour of leading the movement. Unfortunately, however, before the day +of debate had arrived, Sir Joshua had been unseated in consequence of +certain acts of bribery which had taken place in connexion with the +borough of Leicester, so that the purists had to march to battle under +the chieftainship of the veteran of Montrose. They were beaten hollow: +but at a later period of the session, the carelessness of ministers gave +a temporary triumph to the same parties, resolutions in favour of the +ballot having been passed by a small majority. This vote is of no +importance whatever, save in so far as it demonstrates the utter +helplessness of the Whigs when left to their own resources. + +Whilst upon the subject of shelving, let us remark that the Scottish +Registration and Marriage Bills have shared a similar fate. Of this we +are devoutly glad. Not a single petition has been presented in their +favour; and though no doubt the registration of births, and a stricter +law of marriage, may be desirable, we think it might be quite possible +to accomplish both objects, without creating a new and expensive staff +of functionaries, or holding forth a prospect of entire immunity to +seduction. Possibly at a later period we may take an opportunity of +examining these postponed measures in detail. + +Two more questions remain, and then the history of the session is ended. +They are of vast importance—Ireland, and our foreign policy. + +The opening of the session found Ireland in a state of agrarian outrage. +Agitation was doing its work, and murder was rife on every hand. +Foremost in stirring up the people, most determined in hounding them on, +were the Roman Catholic priesthood; and we trust that this fact will not +be forgotten by those who are now meditating to buy their silence. +Individuals were openly denounced from the altar, and next day shot down +by the assassin. The most seditious language was used by these cassocked +traitors towards the British government; and even the higher dignitaries +of their church sought to stimulate the passions of the populace by the +most barefaced and impudent misrepresentation. Hear Archdeacon Laffan at +Cashel, upon a Sunday, surrounded by some fifteen thousand of the +peasantry, and backed by that notable worthy, Mr John O’Connell, and +three other members of Parliament—“The Saxon scoundrel, with his +bellyful of Irish meat, could very well afford to call his poor, honest, +starving fellow-countrymen savages and assassins; but if in the +victualling department John Bull suffered one-fifth of the privations to +which the Tipperary men were subject, if he had courage enough, he would +stand upon one side, _and shoot the first man he could meet with a +decent coat on his back_—(Cheers.) But the Saxon had not courage to do +any thing like a man; he growls out like a hungry tiger!” At the time +when this expositor of the Christian doctrine was raving to his +miserable flock, the following was the condition of the Established +clergy. One of them, writing from King’s County, described his +position—“For nearly twenty years I have been a minister of the +Established Church; and during that time I have had nothing whatever to +do with tithes, for my benefice is a chapelry of £90 a-year, and is paid +partly out of land set apart for the purpose, and partly by the +ecclesiastical commissioners of Ireland, from a fund bequeathed to small +livings by Primate Boulter.” He had devoted much attention to the +employment of the poor; had never shown favour or partiality to any one +sect; had lived simply, and attended to his duties; had never brought an +ejectment, or taken any other law proceedings, against a tenant. “What, +then,” continued he, “was my surprise and horror to find an assassin +lying in wait for me for three successive days; and—for this is still +more horrifying—that most of the people of the neighbourhood where I +live have been so far from expressing joy at the escape I have made, +that they show evident disappointment at my not being shot!” + +We have often marvelled what must be the impression of foreigners after +reading such speeches as are usually delivered at an Irish assembly, by +men who cannot plead utter ignorance in extenuation of the language they +employ. They must, we presume, imagine that “the Saxon” has taken +forcible possession of the whole of Ireland; that the natives are no +better than serfs—unprotected by any laws, and liable to be beaten, +plundered, and massacred at the pleasure of the invaders; that, on the +approach of each harvest, hordes of the Saxons repair to the fertile +fields of the Celt, reap them with a sickle in the one hand and a musket +in the other, and then carry off the produce, without leaving a single +doit in reparation. He would imagine that the women are forced, the men +defrauded, and the houses pillaged at pleasure; that the Roman Catholics +are hunted down like wild beasts, by armies of bloodthirsty Protestants; +that the exercise of their faith is denied them; and that they are +allowed no voice whatever in the national representation. Some such +conception as this he must form from the harangues which have +constituted the staple of Conciliation Hall for more years than we care +to reckon. But what would be his amazement were he told that Ireland is +governed by precisely the same laws as the sister country; that property +is equally protected, and life endangered only by the brutality of the +Celtic assassin; that Ireland is specially exempted from several of the +taxes which press most heavily upon the industrious classes of Great +Britain; that on the last occasion of famine, upwards of nine millions +of public, and a vast amount of private money, was given for the support +of her poor; that Roman Catholic colleges have been munificently +endowed; that Ireland has her full share of representation in the +imperial Parliament, and that upwards of one half of the time of the +House of Commons is occupied with measures tending to the amelioration +of the Irish people! If he were told all this—and it is no more than the +naked truth—what would be his astonishment? And yet so it is. Ireland +has persisted, and is persisting, in her course of sedition without a +grievance, of murder without provocation, of black and brutal +ingratitude without even the shadow of an excuse! + +It is impossible to find language too strong to characterise the guilt +of the individuals, lay or clerical, who have spent the better part of +their mean and mischievous existence in misleading their rude and +ignorant fellow-countrymen. They are the moral nuisances who have always +stood in the way of Ireland’s progression and happiness. But for them, +there would have been no absenteeism, no heart-burning between the +landlord and the tenant. The people would gradually have learned habits +of industry and providence, and instead of whooping through the country +like maniacs, shouting and yelling for repeal, which if granted, would +make an utter hell of Ireland, they would be tilling the ground, or +usefully employed in the development of that capital which no one dare +hazard at present in their mad and turbulent districts. For all these +things we do not blame, but execrate O’Connell and his tribe. The +grasping selfishness of that family has for the last few years been the +greatest curse to Ireland; and the crimes of other and inferior +agitators shrink into insignificance, compared with the moral turpitude +of the men who have deliberately fattened upon their country’s ruin. + +Mr John O’Connell, having previously declared his intention of dying on +the floor of the House of Commons rather than permit the passing of a +Coercion Bill to restrain his countrymen from murder, did in effect make +his appearance in St Stephens, but by no means with a suicidal +intention. One of his earliest speeches is worth preserving, as it +exhibits, in a most extraordinary degree, the hereditary power of +mendicancy. “If they had a reverence for human life, let them extend it +to the people of Ireland. Give money. He asked for money. He heard the +laughter of honourable gentlemen; but he could tell them that they ought +to give money, and that it was their duty to do so. Charge them for the +money if they liked, but at all events let them save the lives of the +people. He did not expect to be met otherwise than with laughter; and he +was bound to say that he never saw in that House one single real thought +for the interest of Ireland. (_Great laughter._) He begged to say, that +he had made that remark hastily and hotly, but now he repeated it +deliberately and coolly. Whenever the interests of Ireland came into +competition with those of England, they were invariably sacrificed. And +if he did ask money, had he not a right to do so? In a few nights a +motion would come on, and then he would prove that they owed it!” No man +certainly ever did more credit to his profession. Brought up under the +most able instructor of his age in the art of begging, John O’Connell +exhibited on this occasion talents of the highest order, which would +have made his fortune on the highway, unless some stray traveller should +have mistaken the intentions of the suppliant, and been over ready with +his pistol to prevent an anticipated robbery. The vile ingratitude of +this man is almost equal to his audacity. Great Britain, without the +slightest hope of any return, had impoverished herself for the support +of the Irish, and yet here was the whole acknowledgment! Even on the +score of policy it would have been wiser for Mr O’Connell to have +mitigated his tone. + +The Irish Crime and Outrage Bill was introduced by ministers at an early +stage of the session, with the general concurrence of all parties. No +one could doubt that it was especially needed, but few were sanguine +that it would suffice to cure the spirit of disaffection which was +abroad. In fact, Irish agitation has been allowed to proceed to such a +point, that the evil is utterly incurable. What chance is there of +putting a stop to physical force demonstrations, or, in other words, to +open rebellion, whilst another gang of demagogues is permitted to preach +sedition under the guise of moral force, and to fill the minds of their +deluded victims with every species of misrepresentation and wild +hostility to Great Britain? Our system of government towards Ireland has +been timid and weak, and we are now paying the penalty. Our charities +have been given with far too liberal a hand. Ireland has but had to ask, +in order to be relieved by the public money: and this process has been +so often repeated, that what at first was an extraordinary boon, is now +considered in the light of an indefeasible claim. The Irish peasant will +not work, will do nothing to better his own position, because he +believes that, in his hour of need, he will be supported by British +alms. We wish we could believe that this scandalous and sordid spirit +was confined to the peasantry alone. It is not so. A general scramble +takes place on each fresh issue of bounty, and rich and poor, high and +low, among the repealers, press clamorously forward for their share. +Never was money more absurdly, more mischievously misapplied, than the +great government grants on occasion of the famine. Had the proposals of +Lord George Bentinck been agreed to, and the money given by way of loan +for construction of the Irish railroads, not only would the government +have held some security for repayment, or, at all events, a vested +interest in the works, but a useful improvement would have been effected +in the heart of the country, and a new element of civilisation +introduced. But the scheme was rejected, for no other reason, we +believe, than because it was suggested by a political opponent, and the +millions granted by Britain have been squandered in making good roads +bad, in trenching mosses, draining waste lands, and what not. The +expenditure has been lost to this country, and has not had the effect of +awakening the slightest spark of gratitude or respect for the quarter +whence it came. Ireland must be disabused on one point. These grants are +not annual, and cannot be continued. The time has come when Ireland must +be put upon precisely the same footing of taxation with the sister +kingdoms—she must be forced to forego pauperism, and in future to rely +on her industry, and on her own resources. Ireland is at least four +times as fertile in soil as Scotland, and there can be no reason +whatever why she should be exempt from burdens which apply to the +latter, and moreover, like a sturdy beggar, be for ever vociferous for +relief. + +The Crime and Outrage Bill in some degree fulfilled its purpose; for +open murder and assassination, if not extinguished, were somewhat +diminished throughout the winter. Still the work of sedition progressed. +Old and Young Ireland, ruffians both, were at loggerheads—the older +section finding a profit in the shape of the weekly rent, the younger +and more conscientious one thirsting for the hour when the dogs of +rebellion might be let loose. The French revolution found Ireland in +this state, and no doubt aided to precipitate the crisis. The visions of +mere repeal gradually faded before the more brilliant and daring +aspiration of an Irish republic! France would probably sympathise with +Erin; and a deputation was sent over to wait upon Lamartine, then in the +zenith of his popularity, for the double purpose of ascertaining the +chances of assistance, and of taking a flying lesson in the art of +constructing barricades. But the members of the French Provisional +Government showed no alacrity in recognising the Irish patriots, and +distinctly refused to interfere. Then it became apparent, that if the +Irish party were determined to rebel, they must do so without foreign +aid and intervention; and on their own ground, and with their own +weapons, be prepared to cope with the Saxon. + +It is but fair, in justice to the unfortunate men who, since that time, +have suffered for their almost incredible folly, to state that others, +too crafty or pusillanimous to approach within grasp of the law, were at +least equally guilty in promoting agitation after revolution had been +triumphant in France. John O’Connell thus wrote from Paris a few days +after Louis Philippe had been driven from his throne:—“Speak out, people +of Ireland! Speak from every city—every valley—every hill—every plain! +THE TIME IS COME! The hour has arrived when it is our instant right! +when it is England’s directest and most imperative interest that we +should manage our own affairs in our own Parliament at home!” It matters +not, in a moral point of view, though it might be convenient for +sheltering purposes, that this note of sedition was accompanied with +advice to abstain from crime and bloodshed. Such advice goes for nothing +with the million, as O’Connell well knows; and, furthermore, he knows +this, that of all the phantoms ever conjured up by designing rogues and +mountebanks, this one of Irish repeal is the most unlikely of +realisation. What, then, did the man mean by these words, “_The time is +come!_” save to stir up the people to some demonstration, the issue of +which must have been massacre and bloodshed? + +We need hardly allude to the effect of those appeals upon the more +hot-headed and determined of the confederates. They no longer preserved +even the semblance of loyalty, but, with a daring wholly unexampled, +gloried in the name of traitors. At public meetings they recommended the +immediate arming of the people—descanted, in terms of gloating fondness, +upon that “queen of weapons” the pike—and the only point of hesitation +was the precise period of the rising—whether it ought to take place +immediately, or be postponed “until French steamers were letting off +their steam in Falmouth and Portsmouth.” John Mitchell, in the _United +Irishman_, and his coadjutors in the _Nation_, seconded these views in a +series of the most inflammatory and villanous articles. They propounded +deliberate plans for barricading the streets of Dublin; displayed the +most hellish ingenuity in devising implements to be used against the +troops; attempted to persuade their dupes, that, in the event of a +rising, the army would be found on their side; and, in short, set every +law, human and divine, at defiance. At this crisis, ministers failed to +act with that decision which was clearly their duty. They should at once +have suspended the _Habeas Corpus_ Act, and arrested the whole of the +leading agitators. Such a course would have struck terror into the +insurgents, before, emboldened by impunity, and relying upon the want of +unanimity almost sure to prevail among Irish juries, they had dragged +other misled individuals into a participation of their guilt. + +March, and a portion of April, passed away before ministers took courage +to introduce the Crown and Government Security Bill, under which +Mitchell was ultimately convicted. In the discussions which took place, +Lord John Russell was evidently sorely hampered by the opinions which he +had expressed when in opposition, and the manifest discrepancy of his +measures with the principles of the Whiggish creed. He showed a +disposition to truckle, when he came to that portion of the bill which +declared that open and advised speaking, of treasonable nature, should +henceforward be treated as felony, and took it merely as a temporary +provision. A bolder front, at such a time, would better have become a +British statesman. + +Smith O’Brien and Meagher, two of the most daring leaders of the +faction, were tried at Dublin in the month of May, and escaped, the jury +being in neither case unanimous. These trials may be memorable in the +history of the jurisprudence of Ireland, for they distinctly prove that +the present system of trial is utterly unsuited for that country. +Nothing could be clearer than the evidence against both parties. O’Brien +had recommended the formation of an Irish brigade in the United States. +Meagher’s recommendation was “up with the barricades, and invoke the god +of battles.” Yet in the face of this, the jury could not agree upon +their verdict. Mitchell was the first person convicted under the new +Act. On the 27th of May, he was found guilty, and sentenced to fourteen +years’ transportation. + +No effort whatever was made, on the part of the populace, to rescue this +misguided man. He had proclaimed himself a felon, and he was sent forth +to undergo the punishment of his crime. But this example, stringent as +it was, had no effect whatever in repressing the spirit of treason. The +arming went on rapidly as before, or rather in an augmented ratio. +Cargoes of muskets, and other fire-arms, were openly shipped for Dublin, +and exposed for sale; their destination and use were openly admitted, +and yet ministers did not seem to consider it their duty to interfere! +The newspaper war continued. Fresh journals sprang up to replace the +_United Irishman_, and the favourite doctrines of Mitchell were enforced +with a ferocity and earnestness almost equal to his own. Clubs, after +the fashion of those in Paris, were organised throughout the country: +drilling began, and at length rebellion assumed a tangible shape, the +confederate forces having been reviewed by Smith O’Brien at Cork. On the +21st of July, Dublin was proclaimed by the Lord Lieutenant; and +immediately thereafter, and not a moment too soon, ministry were +compelled to suspend the _Habeas Corpus_ Act in Ireland. + +As we are not writing a history of this most abortive rebellion, we need +not follow its leaders throughout their ignominious, and even cowardly +career. That a bubble, deemed so gigantic, should have burst with so +miraculously small an explosion, may hereafter be a source of wonder to +the chronicler; at present our only feeling should be gratitude to the +Almighty that this affair has as yet been accompanied with so little +loss of human life. So far, it is well; but it would be absolute madness +to suppose that the spirit of rebellion has been extinguished. The Irish +people have been guilty of a great crime. A large portion of them are, +without any doubt, rebels in their hearts; and they must submit to be +treated as such, until we are satisfied that their stubborn disposition +is removed. Great credit, it seems, is now given in certain quarters to +the Roman Catholic clergy, for the part they took in suppressing the +late disturbances; and we anticipate an immediate burst of laudation, +and perhaps a promise of reward, in return for their disinterested +exertions. If to foster rebellion in every possible manner, whilst there +is the least chance of its success, and to preach it down from the very +moment when the cause appears obviously desperate, be an acceptable +course, we freely admit the claims of the priesthood to the heartfelt +gratitude of Britain: upon no other ground whatever can we see a reason +for their recognition. Let any man consider seriously and impartially +the history and proceedings in Ireland for the last six months, and he +cannot fail, we think, to arrive at the conclusion, that clerical +connivance is visible in every scene of the drama. Smith O’Brien and +Mitchell, being both of them Protestants, may have raised the banner too +early, and may have been sacrificed with little scruple; but we repeat, +that we have no faith in that interference which comes so very late, and +which, without any hyperbole, may be said to have been forced at the +point of the bayonet. + +As regards ministers, we think their later measures have been taken with +a fair regard for the interests of the imperial crown. Much they might +have done earlier; but, on the whole, we are not inclined to quarrel +with their conduct. Lord John Russell, in the course of late events, has +received a more wholesome lesson in the practical science of legislation +than was ever vouchsafed him before. His Lordship’s eyes are now, we +hope, opened to the fallacy of some of the cherished Whig propositions. +He has learned that there are times when a government must have recourse +to extraordinary measures, if it is sincere in its wish to maintain the +integrity of the crown and the constitution: and that although the +liberty of the subject, and the freedom of the press, are undoubtedly +most excellent things, and capital toasts at Whig propaganda banquets, +neither of them can be allowed to go so far as to achieve a violent +revolution. If some slight tinge should be apparent on the cheek of the +Premier as he reviews his past career, and reflects on the inconsistency +of his former speeches with his present more energetic conduct, we are +willing to attribute the blush to the most amiable, and certainly the +most honourable of possible motives—the acknowledgment of a cherished +error. + +But while we accord with satisfaction this meed of praise to ministers, +it is impossible to forget that the Whig party, by playing into the +hands of O’Connell and his followers, have given a pernicious incentive +to the agitation which has ended in the late revolt. There has been far +too much coquetting and trafficking with the repealers,—far too little +consideration shown for the really loyal and peaceable portion of the +Irish people. Is it possible to expect that any credence will be given +to the idea that the Whigs are sincere and determined in their +opposition to the repeal doctrines, when a high official functionary +like Sir William Somerville, Chief Secretary of State for Ireland, is +found subscribing to the fund raised for defending the return of Mr +Reynolds, the member for Dublin? Is it, we say, decent that a man in the +position of the honourable baronet should be allowed to identify not +only himself, but the government to which he belongs, with a party so +diametrically opposed to the best interests of the British empire? If +the Whigs are determined to put down agitation in Ireland—and put down +it must be, at whatever cost—let them show their sincerity by dropping +all connexion with the agitators. These are not times for +truckling—least of all for party purposes and pretension. + +If there is an immediate return to the old system of conciliation—if +that unhappy country is to be left under the impression that Britain is +bound to support her, we may look for another projected rebellion at no +very distant period. Ireland must be taught to depend thoroughly upon +herself. The wages of idleness must no longer be given her under any +circumstances whatever. We are satisfied that the social misery of +Ireland proceeds mainly from the injudicious system of eleemosynary +support, to which she has been so long accustomed; for nowhere else in +the known world is there a land so rich in resources, with a population +so utterly improvident. An end also must be put, by the strong arm of +power, to agitation of every kind. Jury trial requires remodelment; and +we hope that the very first Irish measure which is introduced, will be +one for assimilating the system of jury trial in criminal cases there +with that which has worked so well and satisfactorily in Scotland. Let +fifteen men be impanelled, and let the opinion of the majority be the +verdict. This would effectually prevent those allegations about packing, +which do certainly detract from the moral weight of such convictions as +that of Mitchell: it would strengthen the hands of justice, and be +especially useful as a further preventive of crime. The weal or the +continued misery of Ireland will depend very much upon the character and +complexion of the measures which may be introduced during the next +session of Parliament. + +The progress of the revolutions abroad has been any thing but peaceful. +On the Continent, the treaty of Vienna has become a dead letter—a mere +antiquated sheet of parchment, hardly to be appealed to by any of the +conflicting powers. War has broken out in more than one point; and +though, during the last month, there has been some prospect of +compromise, it is in vain to hope that Europe will immediately subside +into its former tranquillity. Hitherto, whatever may be said regarding +the internal economy of France, that country has manifested no +aggressive spirit. Paris, the centre-point of the volcanic eruption, has +kept, and may keep for some time, the soldiery in full employment; and +we are sincerely of opinion that General Cavaignac, now at the head of +affairs in France, has no personal disposition to undertake a war of +conquest. But the position of Germany is very peculiar, and her affairs +so complicated, that we may justly feel alarm as to the issue. + +We shall say little of the experiment, so rashly undertaken by a number +of untried constitution craftsmen, for welding together into one +indissoluble mass the political existence of the different Teutonic +tribes. It is a project which, at first sight, may appear sufficiently +imposing; but when we examine it more closely, it seems fraught with +insuperable difficulties. To constitute a Regent for all Germany, in +whose hands is to be lodged the sovereign administration of affairs, is +in fact to dethrone and mediatise the whole of the reigning potentates. +It may be freely conceded that a number of the smaller states might be +absorbed, and their names removed from the map of Europe, without +causing any disturbance of the balance of power; but, with regard to the +larger ones, the case is very different. Will Austria, Prussia, Bavaria, +and Saxony, submit to surrender their independence? Will the kings allow +themselves to be stripped of their authority—of the power to make laws, +to proclaim war and peace, and to levy and command their own armies? We +do not believe it. Austria may not object at this peculiar juncture, +both because she is deeply engaged in war for the recovery of Lombardy, +and because the present Regent is a prince of her imperial family. +Prussia can hardly be the first to dissent, because her monarch had the +credit of originating the idea of German unity, under the illusion that +he would be nominated as the head. But unity is not popular in Prussia, +any more than it is in Bavaria, and the moment is fast approaching when +this bubble also must explode. We might look upon the whole experiment +with feelings of pure curiosity, were it not that incipient unity has +been signalised by an act of the most flagrant aggression. We allude to +the occupation of Schleswig-Holstein by the Germans. + +Denmark is one of those small states in which the nationality is of the +most invincible kind. Circumscribed in territorial space, the Danish +people are possessed of a courage and energy which for centuries has +continued undiminished; and the more powerful northern states are bound, +if not by treaty, at least by the strongest ties of policy and +relationship, to assist their gallant neighbours in maintaining their +original position. Russia and Sweden have already declared themselves +open allies of Denmark, and resolute to maintain her against the forces +of Germany. The disposition of England, and, we are glad to say, of +France also, tends towards the same point; and such being the case, we +have great hopes that the Germans will not be mad enough to persevere in +their unjustifiable course. A war in the north of Europe, in which so +many great nations would be engaged, must be a hideous calamity; and +Germany, if wise, should be the last country to provoke it. But, as if +to complicate matters, the parliament at Frankfort have manifested an +intention of embroiling themselves with Holland for one of the ceded +duchies. + +It is no purpose of ours to speculate upon events, and therefore we +leave the Danish question without further comment. It will be extremely +gratifying if, after all the demonstration which has been made, and the +actual collision between the Danes and the Germans, peace can be +re-established without having recourse to the armed interference of a +northern confederation; and it would be still more gratifying if this +desirable result should be the effect of British mediation. But, looking +to the south of Europe, we cannot approve of the policy which Great +Britain has since pursued, or the attitude which Lord Palmerston has +chosen to assume towards a friendly foreign power. + +Our readers will not have forgotten the surprise and suspicion which was +excited, about a year ago, by the absence of a cabinet minister, who was +understood to be perambulating Italy with a sort of roving commission. +The intention may have been friendly, but the fact was both unusual and +degrading, and gave rise at the time to a multitude of unpleasant +suspicions. Whether Lord Minto travelled in the capacity of +constitution-maker for Italy we know not; but if so, as has more than +once been broadly alleged, his attempts have been utter failures. We +hope it was not by his advice that Charles Albert has done his best to +light up the flames of general war by that ungenerous attack upon +Austria, which has ended so disastrously for himself. Baffled on every +hand—after having sacrificed his army, and squandered his treasure—the +King of Sardinia has been driven back into his own country, amidst the +execrations of those whom he professedly came to emancipate, and without +a hope left of gaining the diadem for which he had perilled so much. The +papal constitution at Rome has by no means fulfilled the hopes of the +liberal advocates. Pius, lately so popular, is trembling in the Vatican, +and the inhabitants of the Eternal City are in as much terror as if +Attila were again at its gates. We repeat that we do not know how much +share British councils may have had in promoting these untoward events; +but this we know, that it would have been far better if Lord Minto had +remained at home. For, in the matter of Naples at least, we have chosen +to take a direct part, which throws suspicion upon the tendency of our +whole negotiations with the Peninsula. + +Sicily has chosen to cast off its allegiance to the crown of Naples, and +to elect a sovereign of its own. This is strictly a domestic contest, +and one in which we had no title whatever to interfere. But mark what +has taken place. No sooner was Naples—a country which has also felt the +revolutionary shock—quieted by the granting of a constitution, than King +Ferdinand, desirous of quelling rebellion in Sicily, is intimidated from +sending his squadron for that purpose, by the appearance of a British +fleet off his own territory. Against this unjustifiable demonstration +the King of Naples has protested, declaring that he will hold any armed +interference between himself and his subjects as tantamount to a +declaration of war on the part of the British government. Lord +Stanley—whose conduct throughout the session, on all questions connected +with foreign or colonial affairs, has been pre-eminently distinguished +for temperance, rectitude, and ability, and who has exhibited, in a +remarkable degree, every qualification requisite for the leader of a +great and national party—brought the whole subject before the +consideration of the House of Lords: but the explanations given by Lord +Lansdowne are not calculated to improve our character for good faith, +whilst they may afford a ready apology to other states for any act of +aggression whatever. Also, at a later period of the session, Mr +D’Israeli, in one of those brilliant speeches for which he is +unrivalled, again demanded explanation from the Foreign Secretary, and +took occasion to comment, with sarcastic felicity, on the Minto +pilgrimage to Rome. We shall presently allude to the reply which Lord +Palmerston thought proper to make. + +The facts of the case, as admitted by Lord Lansdowne, are shortly +these:—Britain was never asked to mediate formally between the +conflicting parties. The Sicilians stood in the position of rebels, +victorious perhaps on their own soil, but not, on that account, released +from an allegiance which had been formally recognised by Europe. They +proceeded, as all insurgents do, to debate upon some form of government; +and at this point, it seems, the Foreign Office thought fit to use its +influence. Lord Palmerston became a party to the discussions of the +revolted Sicilians, to the extent at least of advising them to select a +monarchical instead of a republican form of government; with an +assurance that, in that event, Britain would recognise the prince who +might be elected by the people. + +This is neither more nor less than a recognition of the right of revolt; +and we should like to know upon what principle of the law of nations it +can be defended. It is one thing to acknowledge the right of a nation to +change the character of its institutions,—as for example, in the case of +France, which from a monarchy has become a republic. Were we to undergo +the same organic change, France, doubtless, would recognise us, and +continue the same relations with us under the altered form of +government. But what if France had chosen to espouse the cause of the +Irish confederates? What if—supposing our troops had been defeated by a +general rising, and Smith O’Brien had been proclaimed not only King of +Munster, but of Ireland—General Cavaignac should have assured the +rebels, that he would recognise the descendant of Brian Boru as the +prince elected by the people? Would not that negotiation, that +assurance, be treated by England as an open declaration of hostility,—an +interference which no circumstances could palliate, and for which no +explanation could suffice? We apprehend there can be no difficulty in +answering the question, and yet our position with regard to Naples was +precisely similar. + +No official recognition of the independence of Sicily has as yet taken +place. Her Britannic Majesty has accredited no ambassador to that court, +nor does she know any thing more of the King of Sicily than her royal +predecessor did of Theodore King of Corsica. In all Sicilian matters, as +yet, this country nominally recognises the supremacy of King Ferdinand, +who has in no way incurred a forfeiture. Yet at the very moment when +that potentate has completed his preparations for coercing his rebel +subjects, a British fleet appears off his shores, and no explanation has +been vouchsafed of the reasons which have brought it there. + +In answer to Lord Malmesbury, who reiterated the question originally put +by Lord Stanley, “Is the fleet of Admiral Parker to interfere with any +expedition which his Neapolitan Majesty may send against his subjects in +Sicily?” Lord Lansdowne distinctly refused explanation. So did Lord +Palmerston in answer to Mr D’Israeli; and he further added, “that it is +not the practice of the government of this country to announce to +parliament what the intentions of the government are.” All that we shall +say upon that point is, that, even during the present session of +parliament, ministers have more than once been particularly eager to +parade their intentions, without even the formality of a question. Such +answers are very apt to make distrustful people recollect that Naples is +but a small state, and not so formidable as some others which have led +the van of revolution. But even supposing that the Whig government are +not prepared to go the length of violating treaties, and breaking +alliances by a direct and forcible interference, this concealment is +peculiarly unwise at a moment when neutrality is of the last importance. +Apart from this question of Sicilian interference, no one wants to know +why Admiral Parker’s fleet is there. It is not alone Lord Stanley or Mr +D’Israeli whose curiosity requires to be gratified. The King of Naples +believes this armament is sent with intentions hostile to him, and he +has a right to know whether Britain proposes to throw an impediment +betwixt him and his revolted dominions. Are ministers aware of the +effect which such ambiguous answers may have upon the future policy of +France? General Oudinot, we know, is at the head of a large army on the +southern frontier of France, and Charles Albert has notoriously +solicited assistance from that quarter. What if the French, drawing +their own deduction from the fact of the fleet being there, and all +explanation refused, should choose to assume that we have exceeded the +bounds of neutrality, and are now coercing the King of Naples?—what if +they should march an army to the support of the Piedmontese, again make +Lombardy a field of battle, and throw all Europe into irretrievable +confusion, by engaging in hostilities with Austria? Is that contingency +so remote that we can afford to indulge in mysteries, and peril the fair +fame of England’s open dealing for a paltry Palmerston intrigue? + +If we contemplate seriously the whole course of our foreign policy, in +so far as regards Italy, we cannot fail to be impressed with the idea +that the Whigs have given undue countenance to the late insurrectionary +movements. Great Britain might have come forward honourably at the +commencement of the Lombardy campaign to stop the effusion of blood and +the horrors of war, by the offer of a timely mediation; but no such step +was taken. On the contrary, our Cabinet remained quiescent and looked on +approvingly, so long as success appeared to favour the Sardinian arms: +it is only after the invader has been beaten back, and driven within the +frontiers of his own kingdom—after Austria has redeemed by force all her +Lombard territory, that Lord Palmerston, and his new ally Cavaignac, +have thought fit to tender their good offices. We may safely ask—what +good purpose can be achieved by this very late intervention? Who are the +parties whose quarrel is to be taken up? Mr D’Israeli put the matter +well when he asked,—First, what was to be the principle of this +mediation; secondly, what was to be the motive of the mediation; and +thirdly, what was the end proposed to be attained by the mediation? The +motive, we are assured, is the preservation of peace, and we fully +subscribe to its importance; but on all other matters we are left as +thoroughly in the dark as ever. Really this mystery is, to say the least +of it, tantalising; and we would fain know whether Austria is the party +who has taken the initiative, in securing the advice of two peace-makers +like Palmerston and Cavaignac. Austria has recovered the possessions +guaranteed her by the faith of the leading states of Europe, has put +down insurrection, and driven back in rout and terror the invading +Sardinian over his own frontier. There remains no body of her revolted +subjects in a position to ask for mediation. As for Charles Albert, he +is not, we presume, either King of Italy or Lord of Lombardy, neither +have we heard of any other claim, save that of sympathy, which could +entitle him to enter into the contest. Personally he had no wrong to +avenge; but having chosen to espouse the cause of the rebels, and to +encounter the risks of war, he is surely not entitled, especially after +defeat, to insist upon any conditions. If Austria shall choose, of her +own free will and accord, to cede possession of Lombardy, it will be a +mere act of grace, which cannot be demanded from her by any state in +Europe. But she is clearly entitled to dictate, and not to receive +conditions; and any interference with her guaranteed and fully recovered +rights, either on the part of England or of France, would be tantamount +to a declaration of war. + +From first to last, therefore, we condemn the course which has been +pursued by the British foreign minister with reference to the affairs of +Italy, as undignified, unconstitutional, and mischievous. It has +naturally lowered the estimate of our character in the eyes of the +Italian people, whose own fondness for intrigue does not prevent them +from despising that system, when pursued on the part of a strong and +powerful nation. Minto jobbing has proved an utter failure. It may not +indeed have been unproductive in results, for it has materially +stimulated sedition, but certainly it has not tended to the preservation +of peace, or the consolidation of government in Italy. + +Lord Palmerston has not been happy for the present year in his foreign +relations. Some gratuitous advice to Spain, which he no doubt tendered +with the best possible intentions, was ignominiously returned upon his +hand; and this affront was followed up by another still more serious, +for our ambassador at Madrid was dismissed. Such are the results of +constant meddling with the institutions of foreign states, or prying +into their domestic arrangements, and of everlastingly tendering +unsolicited and unpalatable advice. We do Lord Palmerston the justice to +believe, that he is the last man in the world who would brook such +conduct at the hands of others. Why then will he persist in acting the +part of Mentor to all the states of Europe, at the risk of attracting +insult to himself, and of materially endangering the character and +position of his country? + +Whether we regard the conduct of the present ministry at home or abroad, +in domestic or in foreign relations, we find little to praise, and much +which we must conscientiously condemn. Late events do not seem to have +conveyed to them any important lesson. Diminished exports, want of +reciprocity, and the disorganisation of affairs on the Continent, have +effected as yet no change in their commercial policy. They are still +determined to persevere in the course which they have unfortunately +adopted, and to neglect the home and colonial markets for the desperate +chance of pushing exportation further. By delaying to make any provision +for the relaxation of the odious Bank Restriction Acts—by placing upon +the committee of the House of Commons men whose financial reputation +depended upon the maintenance of these measures—they have again exposed +the country to a recurrence of that crisis which, in November last, was +so near a fatal termination. Who shall answer for it that a fresh drain +of bullion will not take place this autumn? If the harvest shall prove +deficient, such undoubtedly may be the case, and the mercantile world +will be left without the means of accommodation at the moment of its +utmost need. + +When we look at the long period of tranquillity which this country has +enjoyed since the peace—when we reflect upon the extension of trade, the +increase of our colonies, the apparent accumulation of wealth at home, +the development of industry, and the enormous social improvements which +have resulted from the progress of science—it seems almost miraculous +that any combination of circumstances should so rapidly have involved us +in financial embarrassments. Those embarrassments are marked by the +price of money and its fluctuations, by the difficulty of accommodation, +by the unprecedented decline in the value of every kind of property, by +the amount of unemployed labour in the market, and by the long list of +bankruptcies. We ask for an explanation of these phenomena, and we are +referred to a failure of the potato crop! The political economists will +not acknowledge the share they have had in the production of such +lamentable results—but, fortunately, they cannot alter dates; and one +thing at least is incontestible, that the commencement of the period of +decline corresponds exactly with that of Sir Robert Peel’s fiscal and +currency measures. It may have been that we were previously in danger +from the want of these, but the country neither knew nor felt it. The +change was made, and since then our prospects have been dark and gloomy. + +Parliament has utterly failed, during last session, to suggest any +remedy for the general distress. It must fail so to do, until it is +called together under the auspices of a Cabinet imbued with patriotic +principles, aware of the responsibility of their situation, and +thoroughly resolved to release themselves from the trammels of a system +which has fraud and selfishness for its foundation, and which seeks to +aggrandise a few at the sacrifice of the industrious many. May Heaven +grant that such men may speedily be called to the supreme councils of +the nation, and that this may be the last session, the futilities of +which it is our duty to record, under the imbecile and slovenly +administration of the Whigs! + + + + + TO A CAGED SKYLARK, REGENT’S CIRCUS, PICCADILLY. + + BY B. SIMMONS. + + + The city’s stony roar around! + The city’s stifling air! + The London May’s distracting sound, + And dust, and heat, and glare! + She sings to-night who puts to shame + Her fabled sisters’ syren-fame; + And, swarming through one mighty street, + From all opposing points they meet; + And hurrying, whirling, madd’ning on, + The crashing wheels and battling crowd + Are coming still, and still are gone— + The Thunder and the Cloud. + But the gush of faint odours + From apple-tree blooms— + The dew-fall by starlight + In green mossy glooms— + The sob of low breezes + Through hill-lifted pines + Looking miles o’er lone moorlands + While evening declines— + The dying away + Of far bleats at the shealing, + The hum of the night-fly + Where streamlets are stealing— + All are floating, this moment, or mournfully heard, + (Distinct as lutes mid trumpets) round thy cage, heart-breaking Bird! + They heed, nor hear—that seething mass— + But storm and brawl and burst along, + Porter and Peer—the City class— + And high-born Beauty shrined in glass— + The pale Mechanic and his lass— + Thick as the scythe-awaiting grass, + In one discordant throng. + While, loud with many a clanging bell, + Some annual joy the steeples tell, + And waggons’ groan and drivers’ yell + The loud hubbub and riot swell; + Yet still the stunn’d ear drinks, through all, that liquid song. + + And far sinks the tumult, + And takes the soft moan + Of billows that shoreward + Are lapsingly thrown, + When the stars o’er the light-house + Set faintly and few, + And the waves’ level blackness + Is trembling to blue. + Wing’d Darling of Sunrise! + How oft at that hour, + Where the grassy lea lovingly + Tufted thy bower, + Thy friends the meek cowslips + Still folded in sleep, + Didst thou burst, and meet Morning + Half way from the deep, + And circle and soar + Till thy small rosy wing + Seem’d a sparkle the far-coming + Splendour might fling! + How lavishly then + On the night-hidden hill + Didst thou rain down thy carol + Deliciously shrill— + Still mounting to Heaven, + As thou didst rejoice + To be nearer the Angels, + Since nearest in voice! + And thy wild liquid warbling, + Sweet Thing! after all, + Leaves thee thus aching-breasted, + A captive and thrall. + For the thymy dell’s freshness and free dewy cloud + A barr’d nook in this furnace-heat and suffocating crowd. + No pause even here to list thy lay; + The human ferment working + Must on with unresisted sway + In bubbling thousands swept away, + Nor near thy cage be left ONE HERMIT-HEARER lurking. + Twin minstrels were ye + Once in sunshine and shade + With _thy_ hymns to the Love-star, + _His_ rhymes to the Maid. + How sweet was it then, + As he linger’d at noon + Beneath trees dropping diamonds + In shower-freshen’d June, + Beloved of the Rainbow! + To mark thee on high, + Where violet and amber + Were arching the sky; + And to deem thou wert singing + Of comfort to him— + Of some Bow yet to brighten + His destiny dim! + From _thy_ Cloud and _his_ Dream + Long the glory is gone, + And the dungeon remains + To each desolate one: + And as vainly as thine would his spirit up-spring, + Beating against his prison-bar with faint and baffled wing. + + + + + SONNET.—TO DENMARK. + + + Again the trumpet-blast of war is blown: + Again the cannon booms along the sea. + Now, may the God of Battles stand by thee, + True-hearted Denmark! struggling for thine own, + For right, and loyalty, and King, and throne, + Against the weight of frantic Germany! + Old Honour is not dead whilst thou art free— + Oh be thou faithful to thy past renown! + May the great spirit of thy heroes dead + Be as a bulwark to thine ancient shore: + And, midst the surge of battle rolling red, + Still be thy banner foremost as of yore; + Prouder than when it waved, to winds outspread, + On the broad bastion-keep of Elsinore! + + + + + LIFE IN THE “FAR WEST.” + + + PART IV. + +We have said that La Bonté was a philosopher: he took the streaks of ill +luck which checkered his mountain life in a vein of perfect +carelessness, if not of stoical indifference. Nothing ruffled his +danger-steeled equanimity of temper; no sudden emotion disturbed his +mind. We have seen how wives were torn from him without eliciting a +groan or grumble, (but such _contretemps_, it may be said, can scarcely +find a place in the category of ills;) how the loss of mules and +mustangs, harried by horse-stealing Indians, left him in the +_ne-plus-ultra_ of mountain misery—“afoot;” how packs and peltries, the +hard-earned “beaver” of his perilous hunts, were “raised” at one fell +swoop by freebooting bands of savages. Hunger and thirst, we know, were +commonplace sensations to the mountaineer. His storm-hardened flesh +scarce felt the pinging wounds of arrow-point or bullet; and when in the +midst of Indian fight, it is not probable that any tender qualms of +feeling would allay the itching of his fingers for his enemy’s +scalp-lock, nor would any remains of civilised fastidiousness prevent +his burying his knife again and again in the life-blood of an Indian +savage. + +Still, in one dark corner of his heart, there shone at intervals a faint +spark of what was once a fiercely-burning fire. Neither time, that +corroder of all things, nor change, that ready abettor of oblivion, nor +scenes of peril and excitement, which act as dampers to more quiet +memory, could smother this little smouldering spark, which now and +again—when rarely-coming calm succeeded some stirring passage in the +hunter’s life, and left him, for a brief time, devoid of care and victim +to his thoughts—would flicker suddenly, and light up all the nooks and +corners of his rugged breast, and discover to his mind’s eye that one +deep-rooted memory clung there still, though long neglected; proving +that, spite of time and change, of life and fortune, + + “On revient toujours à ses premiers amours.” + +Often and often, as La Bonté sat cross-legged before his solitary +camp-fire, and, pipe in mouth, watched the blue smoke curling upwards in +the clear cold sky, a well-remembered form appeared to gaze upon him +from the vapoury wreaths. Then would old recollections crowd before him, +and old emotions, long a stranger to his breast, shape themselves, as it +were, into long-forgotten but now familiar pulsations. Again he felt the +soft subduing influence which once, in days gone by, a certain passion +exercised over his mind and body; and often a trembling seized him, the +same he used to experience at the sudden sight of one Mary Brand, whose +dim and dreamy apparition so often watched his lonely bed, or, +unconsciously conjured up, cheered him in the dreary watches of the long +and stormy winter nights. + +At first he only knew that one face haunted his dreams by night, and the +few moments by day when he thought of any thing, and this face smiled +lovingly upon him, and cheered him mightily. Name he had quite +forgotten, or recalled it vaguely, and, setting small store by it, had +thought of it no more. + +For many years after he had deserted his home, La Bonté had cherished +the idea of again returning to his country. During this period he had +never forgotten his old flame, and many a choice fur he had carefully +laid by, intended as a present for Mary Brand; and many a _gâge d’amour_ +of cunning shape and device, worked in stained quills of porcupine and +bright-coloured beads—the handiwork of nimble-fingered squaws—he had +packed in his possible sack for the same destination, hoping a time +would come when he might lay them at her feet. + +Year after year wore on, however, and still found him, with traps and +rifle, following his perilous avocation; and each succeeding one saw him +more and more wedded to the wild mountain life. He was conscious how +unfitted he had become again to enter the galling harness of +conventionality and civilisation. He thought, too, how changed in +manners and appearance he now must be, and could not believe that he +would again find favour in the eyes of his quondam love, who, he judged, +had long since forgotten him; and inexperienced as he was in such +matters, yet he knew enough of womankind to feel assured that time and +absence had long since done the work, if even the natural fickleness of +woman’s nature had lain dormant. Thus it was that he came to forget Mary +Brand, but still remembered the all-absorbing feeling she had once +created in his breast, the shadow of which still remained, and often +took form and feature in the smoke-wreaths of his solitary camp-fire. + +If truth be told, La Bonté had his failings as a mountaineer, and—sin +unpardonable in hunter law—still possessed, in holes and corners of his +breast seldom explored by his inward eye, much of the leaven of kindly +human nature, which now and again involuntarily peeped out, as greatly +to the contempt of his comrade trappers as it was blushingly repressed +by the mountaineer himself. Thus, in his various matrimonial episodes, +he treated his dusky _sposas_ with all the consideration the sex could +possibly demand from hand of man. No squaw of his ever humped shoulder +to receive a castigatory and marital “lodge-poling” for offence +domestic; but often has his helpmate blushed to see her pale-face lord +and master devote himself to the feminine labour of packing huge piles +of fire-wood on his back, felling trees, butchering unwieldy buffalo—all +which are included in the Indian category of female duties. Thus he was +esteemed an excellent _parti_ by all the marriageable young squaws of +Blackfoot, Crow, and Shoshone, of Yutah, Shian, and Arapaho; but after +his last connubial catastrophe, he steeled his heart against all the +charms and coquetry of Indian belles, and persevered in unblessed +widowhood for many a long day. + +From the point where we left him on his way to the waters of the +Columbia, we must jump with him over a space of nearly two years, during +which time he had a most uninterrupted run of good luck; trapping with +great success on the head streams of the Columbia and Yellow Stone—the +most dangerous of trapping ground—and finding good market for his +peltries at the “North-west” posts—beaver fetching as high a price as +five and six dollars a “plew”—the “golden age” of trappers, now, alas, +never to return, and existing only in the fond memory of the +mountaineers. This glorious time, however, was too good to last. In +mountain language, “such heap of fat meat was not going to ‘shine’ much +longer.” + +La Bonté was at this time one of a band of eight trappers, whose hunting +ground was about the head waters of the Yellow Stone, which we have +before said is in the country of the Blackfeet. With him were Killbuck, +Meek, Marcelline, and three others; and the leader of the party was Bill +Williams, that old “hard case” who had spent forty years and more in the +mountains, until he had become as tough as the parflêche soles of his +mocassins. They were all good men and true, expert hunters, and +well-trained mountaineers. After having trapped all the streams they +were acquainted with, it was determined to strike into the mountains, at +a point where old Williams affirmed, from the “run” of the hills, there +must be plenty of water, although not one of the party had before +explored the country, or knew any thing of its nature, or of the +likelihood of its affording game for themselves or pasture for their +animals. However, they packed their peltry, and put out for the land in +view—a lofty peak, dimly seen above the more regular summit of the +chain, being their landmark. + +For the first day or two their route lay between two ridges of +mountains, and by following the little valley which skirted a creek, +they kept on level ground, and saved their animals considerable labour +and fatigue. Williams always rode ahead, his body bent over his +saddle-horn, across which rested a long heavy rifle, his keen gray eyes +peering from under the slouched brim of a flexible felt-hat, black and +shining with grease. His buckskin hunting-shirt, bedaubed until it had +the appearance of polished leather, hung in folds over his bony carcass; +his nether extremities being clothed in pantaloons of the same material, +(with scattered fringes down the outside of the leg—which ornaments, +however, had been pretty well thinned to supply “whangs” for mending +mocassins or pack-saddles,) which, shrunk with wet, clung tightly to his +long, spare, sinewy legs. His feet were thrust into a pair of Mexican +stirrups, made of wood, and as big as coal-scuttles; and iron spurs of +incredible proportions, with tinkling drops attached to the rowels, were +fastened to his heel—a bead-worked strap, four inches broad, securing +them over the instep. In the shoulder-belt which sustained his +powder-horn and bullet-pouch, were fastened the various instruments +essential to one pursuing his mode of life. An awl, with deer-horn +handle, and the point defended by a case of cherry-wood carved by his +own hand, hung at the back of the belt, side by side with a worm for +cleaning the rifle; and under this was a squat and quaint-looking +bullet-mould, the handles guarded by strips of buckskin to save his +fingers from burning when running balls, having for its companion a +little bottle made from the point of an antelope’s horn, scraped +transparent, which contained the “medicine” used in baiting the traps. +The old coon’s face was sharp and thin, a long nose and chin hob-nobbing +each other; and his head was always bent forward, giving him the +appearance of being hump-backed. He _appeared_ to look neither to the +right nor left, but, in fact, his little twinkling eye was everywhere. +He looked at no one he was addressing, always seeming to be thinking of +something else than the subject of his discourse, speaking in a whining, +thin, cracked voice, and in a tone that left the hearer in doubt whether +he was laughing or crying. On the present occasion he had joined this +band, and naturally assumed the leadership, (for Bill ever refused to go +in harness,) in opposition to his usual practice, which was to hunt +alone. His character was well known. Acquainted with every inch of the +Far West, and with all the Indian tribes who inhabited it, he never +failed to outwit his Red enemies, and generally made his appearance at +the rendezvous, from his solitary expeditions, with galore of beaver, +when numerous bands of trappers dropped in on foot, having been +despoiled of their packs and animals by the very Indians through the +midst of whom old Williams had contrived to pass unseen and unmolested. +On occasions when he had been in company with others, and attacked by +Indians, Bill invariably fought manfully, and with all the coolness that +perfect indifference to death or danger could give, but always “on his +own hook.” His rifle cracked away merrily, and never spoke in vain; and +in a charge—if ever it came to that—his keen-edged butcherknife tickled +the fleece of many a Blackfoot. But at the same time, if he saw that +discretion was the better part of valour, and affairs wore so cloudy an +aspect as to render retreat advisable, he would first express his +opinion in curt terms, and decisively, and, charging up his rifle, would +take himself off, and “cache”[2] so effectually that to search for him +was utterly useless. Thus, when with a large party of trappers, when any +thing occurred which gave him a hint that trouble was coming, or more +Indians were about than he considered good for his animals, Bill was +wont to exclaim— + +“Do ’ee hyar now, boys, thar’s sign about? this hos feels like caching;” +and, without more words, and stoically deaf to all remonstrances, he +would forthwith proceed to pack his animals, talking the while to an +old, crop-eared, raw-boned Nez-percé pony, his own particular +saddle-horse, who, in dogged temper and iron hardiness, was a worthy +companion of his self-willed master. This beast, as Bill seized his +apishamore to lay upon its galled back, would express displeasure by +humping its back and shaking its withers with a wincing motion, that +always excited the ire of the old trapper; and no sooner had he laid the +apishamore smoothly on the chafed skin, than a wriggle of the animal +shook it off. + +“Do ’ee hyar now, you darned crittur!” he would whine out, “can’t’ee +keep quiet your old fleece now? Isn’t this old coon putting out to save +’ee from the darned Injuns now, do ’ee hyar?” And then, continuing his +work, and taking no notice of his comrades, who stood by bantering the +eccentric trapper, he would soliloquise—“Do ’ee hyar, now? This niggur +sees sign ahead—he does; he’ll be afoot afore long, if he don’t keep his +eye skinned,—_he_ will. _Injuns_ is all about, they ar’: Blackfoot at +that. Can’t come round this child—they can’t, wagh!” And at last, his +pack animals securely tied to the tail of his horse, he would mount, and +throwing the rifle across the horn of his saddle, and without noticing +his companions, would drive the jingling spurs into his horse’s gaunt +sides, and muttering, “Can’t come round this child—they can’t!” would +ride away; and nothing more would be seen or heard of him perhaps for +months, when they would not unfrequently, themselves bereft of animals +in the scrape he had foreseen, find him located in some solitary valley, +in his lonely camp, with his animals securely picketed around, and his +peltries safe. + +However, if he took it into his head to keep company with a party, all +felt perfectly secure under his charge. His iron frame defied fatigue, +and, at night, his love for himself and his own animals was sufficient +guarantee that the camp would be well guarded. As he rode ahead, his +spurs jingling, and thumping the sides of his old horse at every step, +he managed, with admirable dexterity, to take advantage of the best line +of country to follow—avoiding the gullies and cañons and broken ground, +which would otherwise have impeded his advance. This tact appeared +instinctive, for he looked neither right nor left, whilst continuing a +course as straight as possible at the foot of the mountains. In +selecting a camping site, he displayed equal skill: wood, water, and +grass began to fill his thoughts towards sundown, and when these three +requisites for a camping ground presented themselves, old Bill sprang +from his saddle, unpacked his animals in a twinkling, and hobbled them, +struck fire and ignited a few chips, (leaving the rest to pack in the +wood,) lit his pipe, and enjoyed himself. On one occasion, when passing +through the valley, they had come upon a band of fine buffalo cows, and, +shortly after camping, two of the party rode in with a good supply of +fat fleece. One of the party was a “greenhorn” on his first hunt, and, +fresh from a fort on Platte, was as yet uninitiated in the mysteries of +mountain cooking. Bill, lazily smoking his pipe, called to him, as he +happened to be nearest, to butcher off a piece of meat and put it in his +pot. Markhead seized the fleece, and commenced innocently carving off a +huge ration, when a gasping roar from the old trapper caused him to drop +his knife. + +“Ti-yah,” growled Bill, “do ’ee hyar, now, you darned greenhorn, do ’ee +spile fat cow like that whar you was raised? Them doin’s won’t shine in +this crowd, boy, do ’ee hyar, darn you? What! butcher meat across the +grain! why, whar’ll the blood be goin’ to, you precious Spaniard? Down +the grain I say,” he continued in a severe tone of rebuke, “and let your +flaps be long, or out the juice’ll run slick—do ’ee hyar, now?” But this +heretical error nearly cost the old trapper his appetite, and all night +long he grumbled his horror at seeing “fat cow spiled in that fashion.” + +When two or three days’ journey brought them to the end of the valley, +and they commenced the passage of the mountain, their march was +obstructed by all kinds of obstacles; although they had chosen what +appeared to be a gap in the chain, and what was in fact the only +practicable passage in that vicinity. They followed the cañon of a +branch of the Yellow Stone, where it entered the mountain; but from this +point it became a torrent, and it was only by dint of incredible +exertions that they reached the summit of the ridge. Game was +exceedingly scarce in the vicinity, and they suffered extremely from +hunger, having, on more than one occasion, recourse to the parflêche +soles of their mocassins to allay its pangs. Old Bill, however, never +grumbled; he chewed away at his shoes with relish even, and as long as +he had a pipeful of tobacco in his pouch, was a happy man. Starvation +was as yet far off, for all their animals were in existence; but as they +were in a country where it was difficult to procure a remount, each +trapper hesitated to sacrifice one of his horses to his appetite. + +From the summit of the ridge, Bill recognised the country on the +opposite side to that whence they had just ascended as familiar to him, +and pronounced it to be full of beaver, as well as abounding in the less +desirable commodity of Indians. This was the valley lying about the +lakes now called Eustis and Biddle, in which are many thermal and +mineral springs, well known to the trappers by the names of the Soda, +Beer, and Brimstone Springs, and regarded by them with no little awe and +curiosity, as being the breathing places of his Satanic +majesty—considered, moreover, to be the “biggest kind” of “medicine” to +be found in the mountains. If truth be told, old Bill hardly relished +the idea of entering this country, which he pronounced to be of “bad +medicine” notoriety, but nevertheless agreed to guide them to the best +trapping ground. + +One day they reached a creek full of beaver sign, and determined to halt +here and establish their headquarters, while they trapped in the +neighbourhood. We must here observe, that at this period—which was one +of considerable rivalry amongst the various trading companies in the +Indian country—the Indians, having become possessed of arms and +ammunition in great quantities, had grown unusually daring and +persevering in their attacks on the white hunters who passed through +their country, and consequently the trappers were compelled to roam +about in larger bands for mutual protection, which, although it made +them less liable to open attack, yet rendered it more difficult for them +to pursue their calling without being discovered; for, where one or two +men might pass unseen, the broad trail of a large party, with its +animals, was not likely to escape the sharp eyes of the cunning savages. + +They had scarcely encamped when the old leader, who had sallied out a +short distance from camp to reconnoitre the neighbourhood, returned with +an Indian mocassin in his hand, and informed his companions that its +late owner and others were about. + +“Do ’ee hyar now, boys, thar’s _Injuns_ knocking round, and Blackfoot at +that; but thar’s plenty of beaver too, and this child means trapping any +how.” + +His companions were anxious to leave such dangerous vicinity; but the +old fellow, contrary to his usual caution, determined to remain where he +was—saying that there were Indians all over the country for that matter; +and as they had determined to hunt here, he had made up his mind +too—which was conclusive, and all agreed to stop where they were, in +spite of the Indians. La Bonté killed a couple of mountain sheep close +to camp, and they feasted rarely on the fat mutton that night, and were +unmolested by marauding Blackfeet. + +The next morning, leaving two of their number in camp, they started in +parties of two, to hunt for beaver sign and set their traps. Markhead +paired with one Batiste, Killbuck and La Bonté formed another couple, +Meek and Marcelline another; two Canadians trapped together, and Bill +Williams and another remained to guard the camp: but this last, leaving +Bill mending his mocassins, started off to kill a mountain sheep, a band +of which animals was visible. + +Markhead and his companion, the first couple on the list, followed a +creek, which entered that on which they had encamped, about ten miles +distant. Beaver sign was abundant, and they had set eight traps, when +Markhead came suddenly upon fresh Indian sign, where squaws had passed +through the shrubbery on the banks of the stream to procure water, as he +knew from observing a large stone placed by them in the stream, on which +to stand to enable them to dip their kettles in the deepest water. +Beckoning to his companion to follow, and cocking his rifle, he +carefully pushed aside the bushes, and noiselessly proceeded up the +bank, when, creeping on hands and knees, he gained the top, and, looking +from his hiding-place, descried three Indian huts standing on a little +plateau near the creek. Smoke curled from the roofs of branches, but the +skin doors were carefully closed, so that he was unable to distinguish +the number of the inmates. At a little distance, however, he observed +two or three squaws gathering wood, with the usual attendance of curs, +whose acuteness in detecting the scent of strangers was much to be +dreaded. + +Markhead was a rash and daring young fellow, caring no more for Indians +than he did for prairie dogs, and acting ever on the spur of the moment, +and as his inclination dictated, regardless of consequences. He at once +determined to enter the lodges, and attack the enemy, should any be +there; and the other trapper was fain to join him in the enterprise. The +lodges proved empty, but the fires were still burning and meat cooking +upon them, to which the hungry hunters did ample justice, besides +helping themselves to whatever goods and chattels, in the shape of +leather and mocassins, took their fancy. + +Gathering their spoil into a bundle, they sought their horses, which +they had left tied under cover of the timber on the banks of the creek; +and, mounting, took the back trail, to pick up their traps and remove +from so dangerous a neighbourhood. They were approaching the spot where +the first trap was set, a thick growth of ash and quaking-ash concealing +the stream, when Markhead, who was riding ahead, observed the bushes +agitated, as if some animal was making its way through them. He +instantly stopped his horse, and his companion rode to his side, to +inquire the cause of this abrupt halt. They were within a few yards of +the belt of shrubs which skirted the stream; and before Markhead had +time to reply, a dozen swarthy heads and shoulders suddenly protruded +from the leafy screen, and as many rifle barrels and arrows were +pointing at their breasts. Before the trappers had time to turn their +horses and fly, a cloud of smoke burst from the thicket almost in their +faces. Batiste, pierced with several balls, fell dead from his horse, +and Markhead felt himself severely wounded. However, he struck the spurs +into his horse; and as some half-score Blackfeet jumped with loud cries +from their cover, he discharged his rifle amongst them, and galloped +off, a volley of balls and arrows whistling after him. He drew no bit +until he reined up at the camp-fire, where he found Bill quietly +dressing a deer-skin. That worthy looked up from his work; and seeing +Markhead’s face streaming with blood, and the very unequivocal evidence +of an Indian rencontre in the shape of an arrow sticking in his back, he +asked,—“Do’ee feel bad now, boy? Whar away you see them darned +Blackfoot?” + +“Well, pull this arrow out of my back, and may be I’ll feel like +telling,” answered Markhead. + +“Do ’ee hyar now! hold on till I’ve grained this cussed skin, will ’ee! +Did ’ee ever see sich a darned pelt, now? it won’t take the smoke any +how I fix it.” And Markhead was fain to wait the leisure of the +imperturbable old trapper, before he was eased of his annoying +companion. + +Old Bill expressed no surprise or grief when informed of the fate of +poor Batiste. He said it was “just like greenhorns, runnin’ into them +cussed Blackfoot;” and observed that the defunct trapper, being only a +Vide-pôche, was “no account anyhow.” Presently Killbuck and La Bonté +galloped into camp, with another alarm of Indians. They had also been +attacked suddenly by a band of Blackfeet, but, being in a more open +country, had got clear off, after killing two of their assailants, whose +scalps hung at the horns of their saddles. They had been in a different +direction to that where Markhead and his companion had proceeded, and, +from the signs they had observed, expressed their belief that the +country was alive with Indians. Neither of these men had been wounded. +Presently the two Canadians made their appearance on the bluff, +galloping with might and main to camp, and shouting “Indians, Indians,” +as they came. All being assembled, and a council held, it was determined +to abandon the camp and neighbourhood immediately. Old Bill was already +packing his animals, and as he pounded the saddle down on the withers of +his old Rosinante, he muttered,—“Do ’ee hyar, now! this coon ’ull câche, +_he_ will.” So mounting his horse, and leading his pack mule by a +lariat, he bent over his saddle-horn, dug his ponderous rowels into the +lank sides of his beast, and, without a word, struck up the bluff and +disappeared. + +The others, hastily gathering up their packs, and most of them having +lost their traps, quickly followed his example, and “put out.” On +cresting the high ground which rose from the creek, they observed thin +columns of smoke mounting into the air from many different points, the +meaning of which they were at no loss to guess. However, they were +careful not to show themselves on elevated ground, keeping as much as +possible under the banks of the creek, when such a course was +practicable; but, the bluffs sometimes rising precipitously from the +water, they were more than once compelled to ascend the banks, and +continue their course along the uplands, whence they might easily be +discovered by the Indians. It was nearly sundown when they left their +camp, but they proceeded during the greater part of the night at as +rapid a rate as possible; their progress, however, being greatly +retarded as they advanced into the mountain, their route lying up +stream. Towards morning they halted for a brief space, but started again +as soon as daylight permitted them to see their way over the broken +ground. + +The creek now forced its way through a narrow cañon, the banks being +thickly clothed with a shrubbery of cottonwood and quaking-ash. The +mountain rose on each side, but not abruptly, being here and there +broken into plateaus and shelving prairies. In a very thick bottom, +sprinkled with coarse grass, they halted about noon, and removed the +saddles and packs from their wearied animals, piqueting them in the best +spots of grass. + +La Bonté and Killbuck, after securing their animals, left the camp to +hunt, for they had no provisions of any kind; and a short distance +beyond it, the former came suddenly upon a recent mocassin track in the +timber. After examining it for a moment, he raised his head with a broad +grin, and, turning to his companion, pointed into the cover, where, in +the thickest part, they discerned the well-known figure of old Bill’s +horse, browsing upon the cherry bushes. Pushing through the thicket in +search of the brute’s master, La Bonté suddenly stopped short as the +muzzle of a rifle-barrel gaped before his eyes at the distance of a few +inches, whilst the thin voice of Bill muttered— + +“Do ’ee hyar now, I was nigh giving ’ee h——: I _was_ now. If I didn’t +think ’ee was Blackfoot, I’m dogged now.” And not a little indignant was +the old fellow that his câche had been so easily, though accidentally, +discovered. However, he presently made his appearance in camp, leading +his animals, and once more joined his late companions, not deigning to +give any explanation as to why or wherefore he had deserted them the day +before, merely muttering, “do ’ee hyar now, thar’s trouble comin’.” + +The two hunters returned after sundown with a black-tailed deer; and +after eating the better part of the meat, and setting a guard, the party +were glad to roll in their blankets and enjoy the rest they so much +needed. They were undisturbed during the night; but at dawn of day the +sleepers were roused by a hundred fierce yells, from the mountains +enclosing the creek on which they had encamped. The yells were instantly +followed by a ringing volley, the bullets thudding into the trees, and +cutting the branches near them, but without causing any mischief. Old +Bill rose from his blanket and shook himself, and exclaimed “Wagh!” as +at that moment a ball plumped into the fire over which he was standing, +and knocked the ashes about in a cloud. All the mountaineers seized +their rifles and sprang to cover; but as yet it was not sufficiently +light to show them their enemy, the bright flashes from the guns alone +indicating their position. As morning dawned, however, they saw that +both sides of the cañon were occupied by the Indians; and, from the +firing, judged there must be at least a hundred warriors engaged in the +attack. Not a shot had yet been fired by the trappers, but as the light +increased, they eagerly watched for an Indian to expose himself, and +offer a mark to their trusty rifles. La Bonté, Killbuck, and old Bill, +lay a few yards distant from each other, flat on their faces, near the +edge of the thicket, their rifles raised before them, and the barrels +resting in the forks of convenient bushes. From their place of +concealment to the position of the Indians—who, however, were scattered +here and there, wherever a rock afforded them cover—was a distance of +about a hundred and fifty yards, or within fair rifle-shot. The trappers +were obliged to divide their force, since both sides of the creek were +occupied; but such was the nature of the ground, and the excellent cover +afforded by the rocks and boulders, and clumps of dwarf pine and +hemlock, that not a hand’s-breadth of an Indian’s body had yet been +seen. Nearly opposite La Bonté, a shelving glade in the mountain side +ended in an abrupt precipice, and at the very edge, and almost toppling +over it, were several boulders, just of sufficient size to afford cover +to a man’s body. As this bluff overlooked the trapper’s position, it was +occupied by the Indians, and every rock covered an assailant. At one +point, just over where La Bonté and Killbuck were lying, two boulders +lay together, with just sufficient interval to admit a rifle-barrel +between them, and from this breastwork an Indian kept up a most annoying +fire. All his shots fell in dangerous propinquity to one or other of the +trappers, and already Killbuck had been grazed by one better directed +than the others. La Bonté watched for some time in vain for a chance to +answer this persevering marksman, and at length an opportunity offered, +by which he was not long in profiting. + +The Indian, as the light increased, was better able to discern his mark, +and fired, and yelled every time he did so, with redoubled vigour. In +his eagerness, and probably whilst in the act of taking aim, he leaned +too heavily against the rock which covered him, and, detaching it from +its position, down it rolled into the cañon, exposing his body by its +fall. At the same instant, a wreath of smoke puffed from the bushes +which concealed the trappers, and the crack of La Bonté’s rifle spoke +the first word of reply to the Indian challenge. But a few feet behind +the rock, fell the dead body of the Indian, rolling down the steep sides +of the cañon, and only stopped by a bush at the very bottom, within a +few yards of the spot where Markhead lay concealed in some high grass. + +That daring fellow instantly jumped from his cover, and, drawing his +knife, rushed to the body, and in another moment held aloft the Indian’s +scalp, giving, at the same time, a triumphant whoop. A score of rifles +were levelled and discharged at the intrepid mountaineer; but in the act +many Indians incautiously exposed themselves, every rifle in the timber +cracked simultaneously, and for each report an Indian bit the dust. + +But now they changed their tactics. Finding they were unable to drive +the trappers from their position, they retired from the mountain, and +the firing suddenly ceased. In their retreat, however, they were forced +to expose themselves, and again the whites dealt destruction amongst +them. As the Indians retired, yelling loudly, the hunters thought they +had given up the contest; but presently a cloud of smoke rising from the +bottom immediately below them, at once discovered the nature of their +plans. A brisk wind was blowing up the cañon, and, favoured by it, they +fired the brush on the banks of the stream, knowing that before this the +hunters must speedily retreat. + +Against such a result, but for the gale of wind which drove the fire +roaring before it, they could have provided—for your mountaineer never +fails to find resources on a pinch. They would have fired the brush to +leeward of their position, and also carefully ignited that to windward, +or between them and the advancing flame, extinguishing it immediately +when a sufficient space had thus been cleared, and over which the +fire-flame could not leap, and thus cutting themselves off from it both +above and below their position. In the present instance, they could not +profit by such a course, as the wind was so strong that, if once the +bottom caught fire, they would not be able to extinguish it; besides +which, in the attempt, they would so expose themselves that they would +be picked off by the Indians without difficulty. As it was, the fire +came roaring before the wind with the speed of a race-horse, and, +spreading from the bottom, licked the mountain sides, the dry grass +burning like tinder. Huge volumes of stifling smoke rolled before it, +and, in a very few minutes, the trappers were hastily mounting their +animals, driving the packed ones before them. The dense clouds of smoke +concealed every thing from their view, and, to avoid this, they broke +from the creek and galloped up the sides of the cañon on to the more +level plateau. As they attained this, a band of mounted Indians charged +them. One, waving a red blanket, dashed through the cavallada, and was +instantly followed by all the loose animals of the trappers, the rest of +the Indians following with loud shouts. So sudden was the charge, that +the whites had not power to prevent the stampede. Old Bill, as usual, +led his pack mules by the lariat; but the animals, mad with terror at +the shouts of the Indians, broke from him, nearly pulling him out of his +seat at the same time. + +To cover the retreat of the others with their prey, a band of mounted +Indians now appeared, threatening an attack in front, whilst their first +assailants, rushing from the bottom, at least a hundred strong, +assaulted in rear. “Do ’ee hyar, boys!” shouted old Bill, “break, or +you’ll go under. This child’s goin’ to câche!” and saying the word, off +he went. _Sauve-qui-peut_ was the order of the day, and not a moment too +soon, for overwhelming numbers were charging upon them, and the mountain +resounded with savage yells. La Bonté and Killbuck stuck together: they +saw old Bill, bending over his saddle, dive right into the cloud of +smoke, and apparently make for the creek bottom—their other companions +scattering each on his own hook, and saw no more of them for many a +month; and thus was one of the most daring and successful bands broken +up that ever trapped in the mountains of the Far West. + +It is painful to follow the steps of the poor fellows who, thus +despoiled of the hardly-earned produce of their hunt, saw all their +wealth torn from them at one swoop. The two Canadians were killed upon +the night succeeding that of the attack. Worn with fatigue, hungry and +cold, they had built a fire in what they thought was a secure retreat, +and, rolled in their blankets, were soon buried in a sleep from which +they never awoke. An Indian boy tracked them, and watched their camp. +Burning with the idea of signalising himself thus early, he awaited his +opportunity, and noiselessly approaching their resting-place, shot them +both with arrows, and returned in triumph to his people with their +horses and scalps. + +La Bonté and Killbuck sought a passage in the mountain by which to cross +over to the head waters of the Columbia, and there fall in with some of +the traders or trappers of the North-west. They became involved in the +mountains, in a part where was no game of any description, and no +pasture for their miserable animals. One of these they killed for food; +the other, a bag of bones, died from sheer starvation. They had very +little ammunition, their mocassins were worn out, and they were unable +to procure skins to supply themselves with fresh ones. Winter was fast +approaching, the snow already covered the mountains, and storms of sleet +and hail poured incessantly through the valleys, benumbing their +exhausted limbs, hardly protected by scanty and ragged covering. To add +to their miseries, poor Killbuck was taken ill. He had been wounded in +the groin by a bullet some time before, and the ball still remained. The +wound, aggravated by walking and the excessive cold, assumed an ugly +appearance, and soon rendered him incapable of sustained exertion, all +motion even being attended with intolerable pain. La Bonté had made a +shanty for his suffering companion, and spread a soft bed of pine +branches for him, by the side of a small creek at the point where it +came out of the mountain and followed its course through a little +prairie. They had been three days without other food than a piece of +parflêche, which had formed the back of La Bonté’s bullet-pouch, and +which, after soaking in the creek, they eagerly devoured. Killbuck was +unable to move, and sinking fast from exhaustion. His companion had +hunted from morning till night, as well as his failing strength would +allow him, but had not seen the traces of any kind of game, with the +exception of some old buffalo tracks, made apparently months before by a +band of bulls crossing the mountain. + +The morning of the fourth day La Bonté, as usual, rose at daybreak from +his blanket, and was proceeding to collect wood for the fire during his +absence while hunting, when Killbuck called to him, and in an almost +inarticulate voice desired him to seat himself by his side. + +“Boy,” he said, “this old hos feels like goin’ under, and that afore +long. You’re stout yet, and if thar was meat handy, you’d come round +slick. Now, boy, I’ll be under, as I said, afore many hours, and if you +don’t raise meat you’ll be in the same fix. I never eat dead meat[3] +myself, and wouldn’t ask no one to do it neither; but meat fair killed +is meat any way; so, boy, put your knife in this old niggur’s lights, +and help yourself. It’s ‘poor bull,’ I know, but maybe it’ll do to keep +life in; and along the fleece thar’s meat yet, and maybe my old hump +ribs has picking on ’em.” + +“You’re a good old hos,” answered La Bonté, “but this child ain’t turned +niggur yet.” + +Killbuck then begged his companion to leave him to his fate, and strive +himself to reach game; but this alternative La Bonté likewise generously +refused, and faintly endeavouring to cheer the sick man, left him once +again to look for game. He was so weak that he felt difficulty in +supporting himself, and knowing how futile would be his attempts to +hunt, he sallied from the camp convinced that a few hours more would see +the last of him. + +He had scarcely raised his eyes, when, hardly crediting his senses, he +saw within a few hundred yards of him an old bull, worn with age, lying +on the prairie. Two wolves were seated on their haunches before him, +their tongues lolling from their mouths, whilst the buffalo was +impotently rolling his ponderous head from side to side, his bloodshot +eyes glaring fiercely at his tormentors, and flakes of foam, mixed with +blood, dropping from his mouth over his long shaggy beard. La Bonté was +transfixed; he dared scarcely to breathe lest the animal should be +alarmed and escape. Weak as it was, he could hardly have followed it, +and, knowing that his own and companion’s life hung upon the success of +his shot, he scarcely had strength to raise his rifle. By dint of +extraordinary exertions and precautions, which were totally unnecessary, +for the poor old bull had not a move in him, the hunter approached +within shot. Lying upon the ground, he took a long steady aim, and +fired. The buffalo raised its matted head, tossed it wildly for an +instant, and, stretching out its limbs convulsively, turned over on its +side and was dead. + +Killbuck heard the shot, and crawling from under the little shanty which +covered his bed, saw, to his astonishment, La Bonté in the act of +butchering a buffalo within two hundred yards of camp. “Hurraw for you!” +he faintly exclaimed; and exhausted by the exertion he had used, and +perhaps by the excitement of an anticipated feast, fell back and +fainted. + +However, the killing was the easiest matter, for when the huge carcass +lay dead upon the ground, our hunter had hardly strength to drive the +blade of his knife through the tough hide of the old patriarch. Then +having cut off as much of the meat as he could carry, eating the while +sundry portions of the liver, which he dipped in the gall-bladder by way +of relish, La Bonté cast a wistful look upon the half-starved wolves, +who now loped round and round, licking their chops, only waiting until +his back was turned to fall to with appetite equal to his own, and +capabilities of swallowing and digesting far superior. La Bonté looked +at the buffalo, and then at the wolves, levelled his rifle and shot one +dead, at which the survivor scampered off without delay. + +Arrived at camp, packing in a tolerable load of the best part of the +animal—for hunger lent him strength—he found poor Killbuck lying on his +back, deaf to time, and to all appearance gone under. Having no +sal-volatile or vinaigrette at hand, La Bonté flapped a lump of raw +fleece into his patient’s face, and this instantly revived him. Then +taking the sick man’s shoulder, he raised him tenderly into a sitting +posture, and invited, in kindly accents, “the old hos to feed,” +thrusting at the same time a tolerable slice of liver into his hand, +which the patient looked at wistfully and vaguely for a few short +moments, and then greedily devoured. It was nightfall by the time that +La Bonté, assisted by many intervals of hard eating, packed in the last +of the meat, which formed a goodly pile around the fire. + +“Poor bull” it was in all conscience: the labour of chewing a mouthful +of the “tender loin” was equal to a hard day’s hunt; but to them, poor +starved fellows, it appeared the richest of meat. They still preserved a +small tin pot, and in this, by stress of eternal boiling, La Bonté +contrived to make some strong soup, which soon restored his sick +companion to marching order. For himself, as soon as a good meal had +filled him, he was strong as ever, and employed himself in drying the +remainder of the meat for future use. Even the wolf, bony as he was, was +converted into meat, and rationed them several days. Winter, however, +had set in with such severity, and Killbuck was still so weak, that La +Bonté determined to remain in his present position until spring, as he +now found that buffalo frequently visited the valley, as it was more +bare of snow than the lowlands, and afforded them better pasture; and +one morning he had the satisfaction of seeing a band of seventeen bulls +within long rifle-shot of the camp, out of which four of the fattest +were soon laid low by his rifle. + +They still had hard times before them, for towards spring the buffalo +again disappeared; the greater part of their meat had been spoiled, +owing to there not being sufficient sun to dry it thoroughly; and when +they resumed their journey they had nothing to carry with them, and had +a desert before them without game of any kind. We pass over what they +suffered. Hunger, thirst, and Indians assaulted them at times, and many +miraculous and hairbreadth escapes they had from such enemies. + +The trail to Oregon, followed by traders and emigrants, crosses the +Rocky Mountains at a point known as the South Pass, where a break in the +chain occurs of such moderate and gradual elevation as to permit the +passage of waggons with tolerable facility. The Sweet Water Valley runs +nearly to the point where the dividing ridge of the Pacific and Atlantic +waters throws off its streams to their respective oceans. At one end of +this valley, and situated on the right bank of the Sweet Water, a huge +isolated mass of granitic rock rises to the height of three hundred +feet, abruptly from the plain. On the smooth and scarped surface +presented by one of its sides, are rudely carved the names and initials +of traders, trappers, travellers and emigrants, who have here recorded +the memorial of their sojourn in the remote wilderness of the Far West. +The face of the rock is covered with names familiar to the mountaineers +as those of the most renowned of their hardy brotherhood; while others +again occur, better known to the science and literature of the Old World +than to the unlearned trappers of the Rocky Mountains. The huge mass is +a well-known landmark to the Indians and mountaineers; and travellers +and emigrants hail it as the half-way beacon between the frontiers of +the United States and the still distant goal of their long and perilous +journey. + +It was a hot sultry day in July. Not a breath of air relieved the +intense and oppressive heat of the atmosphere, unusual here where +pleasant summer breezes, and sometimes stronger gales, blow over the +elevated plains with the regularity of trade-winds. The sun, at its +meridian height, struck the dry sandy plain and parched the drooping +buffalo-grass on its surface, and its rays, refracted and reverberating +from the heated ground, distorted every object seen through its lurid +medium. Straggling antelope, leisurely crossing the adjoining prairie, +appeared to be gracefully moving in mid-air; whilst a scattered band of +buffalo bulls loomed huge and indistinct in the vapoury distance. In the +timbered valley of the river deer and elk were standing motionless in +the water, under the shade of the overhanging cottonwoods, seeking a +respite from the persevering attacks of swarms of horseflies and +mosquitos; and now and then the heavy splash was heard, as they tossed +their antlered heads into the stream, to free them from the venomous +insects that buzzed incessantly about them. But in the sandy prairie, +beetles of an enormous size were rolling in every direction huge balls +of earth, pushing them with their hind legs with comical perseverance; +cameleons darted about, assimilating the hue of their grotesque bodies +with the colour of the sand: groups of prairie-dog houses were seen, +each with its inmate barking lustily on the roof; whilst under cover of +nearly every bush of sage or cactus a rattlesnake lay glittering in lazy +coil. Tantalising the parched sight, the neighbouring peaks of the lofty +Wind River Mountains glittered in a mantle of sparkling snow, whilst +Sweet Water Mountain, capped in cloud, looked gray and cool, in striking +contrast to the burned up plains which lay basking at its foot. + +Resting their backs against the rock, (on which, we have said, are _now_ +carved the names of many travellers,) and defended from the powerful +rays of the sun by its precipitous sides, two white men quietly slept. +They were gaunt and lantern-jawed, and clothed in tattered buckskin. +Each held a rifle across his knees, but—strange sight in this +country—one had its pan thrown open, which was rust-eaten and contained +no priming; the other’s hammer was without a flint. Their faces were as +if covered with mahogany-coloured parchment; their eyes were sunken; and +as their jaws fell listlessly on their breasts, their cheeks were +hollow, with the bones nearly protruding from the skin. One was in the +prime of manhood, with handsome features; the other, considerably past +the middle age, was stark and stern. Months of dire privation had +brought them to this pass. The elder of the two was Killbuck, of +mountain fame; the other hight La Bonté. + +The former opened his eyes, and saw the buffalo feeding on the plain. +“Ho, boy,” he said, touching his companion, “thar’s meat a-runnin.” + +La Bonté looked in the direction the other pointed, stood up, and +hitching round his pouch and powder-horn, drew the stopper from the +latter with his teeth, and placing the mouth in the palm of his left +hand, turned the horn up and shook it. + +“Not a grain,” he said—“not a grain, old hos.” + +“Wagh!” exclaimed the other, “we’ll have to eat afore long,” and rising, +walked into the prairie. He had hardly stepped two paces, when, passing +close to a sage bush, a rattlesnake whizzed a note of warning with its +tail. Killbuck grinned, and taking the wiping-stick from his +rifle-barrel, tapped the snake on the head, and, taking it by the tail, +threw it to La Bonté, saying, “hyar’s meat, any how.” The old fellow +followed up his success by slaying half a dozen more, and brought them +in skewered through the head on his wiping-stick. A fire was soon +kindled, and the snakes as soon roasting before it; when La Bonté, who +sat looking at the buffalo which fed close to the rock, suddenly saw +them raise their heads, snuff the air, and scamper towards him. A few +minutes afterwards a huge shapeless body loomed in the refracted air, +approaching the spot where the buffalo had been grazing. The hunters +looked at it and then at each other, and ejaculated “Wagh!” Presently a +long white mass showed more distinctly, followed by another, and before +each was a string of animals. + +“Waggons, by hos and beaver! Hurrah for Conostoga!” exclaimed the +trappers in a breath, as they now observed two white-tilted waggons, +drawn by several pairs of mules, approaching the very spot where they +sat. Several mounted men were riding about the waggons, and two on +horseback, in advance of all, were approaching the rock, when they +observed the smoke curling from the hunters’ fire. They halted at sight +of this, and one of the two, drawing a long instrument from a case, +which Killbuck voted a rifle, directed it towards them for a moment, and +then, lowering it, again moved forward. + +As they drew near, the two poor trappers, although half-dead with joy, +still retained their seats with Indian gravity and immobility of +feature, turning now and then the crackling snakes which lay on the +embers of the fire. The two strangers approached. One, a man of some +fifty years of age, of middle height and stoutly built, was clad in a +white shooting-jacket, of cut unknown in mountain tailoring, and a pair +of trousers of the well-known material called “shepherd’s plaid;” a +broad-brimmed Panama shaded his face, which was ruddy with health and +exercise; a belt round the waist supported a handsome bowie-knife, and a +double-barrelled fowling-piece was _slung_ across his shoulder. + +His companion was likewise dressed in a light shooting-jacket, of many +pockets and dandy cut, rode on an English saddle and in _boots_, and was +armed with a superb double rifle, glossy from the case, and bearing few +marks of use or service. He was a tall, fine-looking fellow of thirty, +with light hair and complexion; a scrupulous beard and mustache; a +wide-awake hat, with a short pipe stuck in the band, but not very black +with smoke; an elaborate powder-horn over his shoulder, with a Cairngorm +in the butt as large as a plate; a blue handkerchief tied round his +throat in a sailor’s knot, and the collar of his shirt turned carefully +over it. He had, moreover, a tolerable idea of his very correct +appearance, and wore Woodstock gloves. + +The trappers looked at them from head to foot, and the more they looked +the less could they make them out. + +“H—!” exclaimed La Bonté emphatically. + +“This beats grainin’ bull-hide slick,” broke from Killbuck as the +strangers reined up at the fire, the younger dismounting, and staring +with wonder at the weather-beaten trappers. + +“Well, my men, how are you?” he rattled out. “Any game here? By Jove!” +he suddenly exclaimed, seizing his rifle, as at that moment a large +buzzard, the most unclean of birds, flew into the topmost branch of a +cottonwood, and sat, a tempting shot. “By Jove, there’s a chance!” cried +the mighty hunter; and, bending low, started off to approach the unwary +bird in the most approved fashion of northern deer-stalkers. The buzzard +sat quietly, and now and then stretched its neck to gaze upon the +advancing sportsman, who on such occasions threw himself flat on the +ground, and remained motionless, in dread of alarming the bird. It was +worth while to look at the countenance of old Killbuck, as he watched +the antics of the “bourgeois” hunter. He thought at first that the dandy +rifleman had really discovered game in the bottom, and was nothing loth +that there was a chance of his seeing meat; but when he understood the +object of such manœuvres, and saw the quarry the hunter was so carefully +approaching, his mouth grinned from ear to ear, and, turning to La +Bonté, he said, “Wagh! _he’s_ some—_he_ is!” + +Nothing doubting, however, the stranger approached the tree on which the +bird was sitting, and, getting well under it, raised his rifle and +fired. Down tumbled the bird; and the successful hunter, with a loud +shout, rushed frantically towards it, and bore it in triumph to the +camp, earning the most sovereign contempt from the two trappers by the +achievement. + +The other stranger was a quieter character. He, too, smiled as he +witnessed the exultation of his younger companion, (whose horse, by the +way, was scampering about the plain,) and spoke kindly to the +mountaineers, whose appearance was clear evidence of the sufferings they +had endured. The snakes by this time were cooked, and the trappers gave +their new acquaintances the never-failing invitation to “sit and eat.” +When the latter, however, understood what the viands were, their looks +expressed the horror and disgust they felt. + +“Good God!” exclaimed the elder, “you surely cannot eat such disgusting +food?” + +“This niggur doesn’t savy what disgustin’ is,” gruffly answered +Killbuck; “but them as carries empty paunch three days an’ more, is glad +to get ‘snake-meat,’ I’m thinkin.” + +“What! you’ve no ammunition, then?” + +“_Well_, we haven’t.” + +“Wait till the waggons come up, and throw away that abominable stuff, +and you shall have something better, I promise,” said the elder of the +strangers. + +“Yes,” continued the younger, “some hot preserved soup, hotchpotch, and +a glass of porter, will do you good.” + +The trappers looked at the speaker, who was talking Greek (to them.) +They thought the bourgeois were making fun, and did not half like it, so +answered simply, “Wagh! h—’s full of hosh-posh and porter.” + +Two large waggons presently came up, escorted by some eight or ten stout +Missourians. Sublette was amongst the number, well known as a mountain +trader, and under whose guidance the present party, which formed a +pleasure expedition at the expense of a Scotch sportsman, was leisurely +making its way across the mountains to the Columbia. As several +mountaineers were in company, Killbuck and La Bonté recognised more than +one friend, and the former and Sublette were old compañeros. As soon as +the animals were unhitched, and camp formed on the banks of the creek, a +black cook set about preparing a meal. Our two trapping friends looked +on with astonishment as the sable functionary drew from the waggon the +different articles he required to furnish forth a feed. Hams, tongues, +tins of preserved meats, bottles of pickles, of porter, brandy, coffee, +sugar, flour, were tumbled promiscuously on the prairie; whilst pots and +pans, knives, forks, spoons, plates, &c. &c. displayed their unfamiliar +faces to the mountaineers. “Hosh-posh and porter” did not now appear +such Utopian articles as they had first imagined; but no one can +understand the relish, but those who have fared for years on simple meat +and water, with which they accepted the invitation of the Capen (as they +called the Scotchman,) to “take a horn of liquor.” Killbuck and La Bonté +sat in the same position as when we first surprised them asleep under +the shadow of Independence Rock, regarding the profuse display of +comestibles with scarce-believing eyes, and childishly helpless by the +novelty of the scene. Each took the proffered half-pint cup, filled to +the brim with excellent brandy—(no tee-totallers they!)—looked once at +the amber-coloured surface, and with the usual mountain pledge of +“here’s luck!” tossed off the grateful liquor at a breath. This prepared +them in some measure for what was yet in store for them. The Scotchman +bestirred the cook in his work, and soon sundry steaming pots were +lifted from the fire, and the skillets emptied of their bread—the +contents of the former poured in large flat pans, while pannikins were +filled with smoking coffee. The two trappers needed no second +invitation, but, seizing each a panful of steaming stew, drew the +butcher knives from their belts, and fell to lustily—the hospitable +Scotchman plying them with more and more, and administering corrective +noggins of brandy the while; until at last they were fain to cry enough, +wiped their knives on the grass, and placed them in their sheaths—a sign +that human nature could no more. How can pen describe the luxury of the +smoke that followed, to lips which had not kissed pipe for many months, +and how the fragrant honey-dew from Old Virginia was relishingly puffed! + +But the Scotchman’s bounty did not stop here. He soon elicited from the +lips of the hunters the narrative of their losses and privations, and +learned that they now, without ammunition and scarcely clothed, were on +their way to Platte Fort, to hire themselves to the Indian traders in +order to earn another outfit, wherewith once more to betake themselves +to their perilous employment of trapping. What was their astonishment to +see their entertainer presently lay out upon the ground two piles of +goods, each consisting of a four-point Mackinaw, two tin canisters of +powder, with corresponding lead and flints, a pair of mocassins, a +shirt, and sufficient buckskin to make a pair of pantaloons; and how +much the more was the wonder increased when two excellent Indian horses +were presently lassoed from the cavallada, and with mountain saddle, +bridle, and lariats complete, together with the two piles of goods +described, presented to them “on the prairie” or “gift-free,” by the +kindhearted stranger, who would not even listen to thanks for the most +timely and invaluable present. + +Once more equipped, our two hunters, filled with good brandy and fat +buffalo meat, again wended on their way; their late entertainers +continuing their pleasure trip across the gap of the South Pass, +intending to visit the Great Salt Lake, or Timponogos, of the West. The +former were bound for the North Fork of the Platte, with the intention +of joining one of the numerous trapping parties which rendezvous at the +American Fur Company’s post on that branch of the river. On a fork of +Sweet Water, however, not two days after the meeting with the +Scotchman’s waggons, they encountered a band of a dozen mountaineers, +mounted on fine horses, and well armed and equipped, travelling along +without the usual accompaniment of a mulada of pack-animals, two or +three mules alone being packed with meat and spare ammunition. The band +was proceeding at a smart rate, the horses moving with the gait peculiar +to American animals, known as “_pacing_” or “_racking_,” in Indian +file—each of the mountaineers with a long heavy rifle resting across the +horn of his saddle. Amongst them our two friends recognised Markhead, +who had been of the party dispersed months before by the Blackfeet on +one of the head streams of the Yellow Stone, which event had been the +origin of the dire sufferings of Killbuck and La Bonté. Markhead, after +running the gauntlet of numerous Indians, through the midst of whose +country he passed with his usual temerity and utter disregard to danger, +suffering hunger, thirst, and cold—those every-day experiences of +mountain life—riddled with balls, but with three scalps hanging from his +belt, made his way to a rendezvous on Bear River, whence he struck out +for the Platte in early spring, in time to join the band he now +accompanied, who were on a horse-stealing expedition to the Missions of +Upper California. Little persuasion did either Killbuck or La Bonté +require to join the sturdy freebooters. In five minutes they had gone +“files-about,” and at sundown were camping on the well-timbered bottom +of “Little Sandy,” feasting once more on delicate hump-rib and tender +loin. + +For California, ho! + +Fourteen good rifles in the hands of fourteen mountain men, stout and +true, on fourteen strong horses, of true Indian blood and +training—fourteen cool heads, with fourteen pairs of keen eyes in them, +each head crafty as an Indian’s, directing a right arm strong as steel, +and a heart as brave as grizzly bear’s. Before them a thousand miles of +dreary desert or wilderness, overrun by hostile savages, thirsting for +the white man’s blood; famine and drought, the arrows of wily hordes of +Indians—and, these dangers past, the invasion of the civilised +settlements of whites, the least numerous of which contained ten times +their number of armed and bitter enemies,—the sudden swoop upon their +countless herds of mules and horses, the fierce attack and bloody +slaughter;—such were the consequences of the expedition these bold +mountaineers were now engaged in. Fourteen lives of any fourteen enemies +who would be rash enough to stay them, were, any day you will, carried +in the rifle barrels of these stout fellows; who, in all the proud +consciousness of their physical qualities, neither thought, nor cared to +think, of future perils; and rode merrily on their way, rejoicing in the +dangers they must necessarily meet. Never a more daring band crossed the +mountains; a more than ordinary want of caution characterised their +march, and dangers were recklessly and needlessly invited, which even +the older and more cold-blooded mountaineers seemed not to care to +avoid. They had, each and all, many a debt to pay the marauding Indians. +Grudges for many privations, for wounds and loss of comrades, rankled in +their breasts; and not one but had suffered more or less in property and +person at the hands of the savages, within a few short months. Threats +of vengeance on every Redskin they met were loud and deep; and the wild +war-songs round their nightly camp-fires, and grotesque scalp-dances, +borrowed from the Indians, proved to the initiated that they were, one +and all, “half-froze for hair.” Soon after Killbuck and La Bonté joined +them, they one day suddenly surprised a band of twenty Sioux, scattered +on a small prairie and butchering some buffalo they had just killed. +Before they could escape, the whites were upon them with loud shouts, +and in three minutes the scalps of eleven were dangling from their +saddle-horns. + +Struggling up mountains, slipping down precipices, dashing over prairies +which resounded with their Indian songs, charging the Indians wherever +they met them, and without regard to their numbers; frightening with +their lusty war-whoops the miserable Diggers, who were not unfrequently +surprised while gathering roots in the mountain plains, and who, +scrambling up the rocks and concealing themselves, like sage rabbits, in +holes and corners, peered, chattering with fear, as the wild and noisy +troop rode by. Scarce drawing rein, they passed rapidly the heads of +Green and Grand Rivers, through a country abounding in game and in +excellent pasture; encountering in the upland valleys, through which +meandered the well-timbered creeks on which they made their daily camps, +many a band of Yutahs, through whom they dashed at random, caring not +whether they were friends or foes. Passing many other heads of streams, +they struck at last the edge of the desert, lying along the +south-eastern base of the Great Salt Lake, and which extends in almost +unbroken sterility to the foot of the range of the Sierra Nevada—a +mountain chain, capped with perpetual snow, that bounds the northern +extremity of a singular tract of country, walled by mountains and +utterly desert, whose salt lagoons and lakes, although fed by many +streams, find no outlet to the ocean, but are absorbed in the spongy +soil or thirsty sand, which characterise the different portions of this +deserted tract. In the “Grand Basin,” it is reported, neither human nor +animal life can be supported. No oases cheer the wanderer in the +unbroken solitude of the vast wilderness. More than once the lone +trapper has penetrated, with hardy enterprise, into the salt plains of +the basin; but no signs of beaver or fur-bearing animal rewarded the +attempt. The ground is scantily covered with coarse unwholesome grass +that mules and horses refuse to eat; and the water of the springs, +impregnated with the impurities of the soil through which it percolates, +affords but nauseating draughts to the thirsty traveller. + +In passing from the more fertile uplands to the lower plains, as they +descended the streams, the timber on their banks became scarcer, and the +groves more scattered. The rich buffalo or _grama_ grass was exchanged +for a coarser species, on which the hard-worked animals soon grew poor +and weak. The thickets of plum and cherry, of box-alder and quaking-ash, +which had hitherto fringed the creeks, and where the deer and bear loved +to resort—the former to browse on the leaves and tender shoots, the +latter to devour the fruit—now entirely disappeared, and the only shrub +seen was the eternal sage bush, which flourishes every where in the +western regions in uncongenial soils where other vegetation refuses to +grow. The visible change in the scenery had also a sensible effect on +the spirits of the mountaineers. They travelled on in silence through +the deserted plains; the hi-hi-hiya of their Indian chants was no longer +heard enlivening the line of march. More than once a Digger of the +Pi-yutah tribe took himself and hair, in safety, from their path, and +almost unnoticed; but as they advanced they became more cautious in +their movements, and testified, by the vigilant watch they kept, that +they anticipated hostile attacks even in these arid wastes. They had +passed without molestation through the country infested by the bolder +Indians. The mountain Yutes, not relishing the appearance of the +hunters, had left them unmolested; but they were now entering a country +inhabited by the most degraded and abject of the western tribes; who, +nevertheless, ever suffering from the extremities of hunger, have their +brutish wits sharpened by the necessity of procuring food, and rarely +fail to levy a contribution of rations, of horse or mule flesh, on the +passenger in their inhospitable country. The brutish cunning and animal +instinct of these wretches is such, that although arrant cowards, their +attacks are more feared than those of bolder Indians. These +people—called the Yamparicas or Root-Diggers—are, nevertheless, the +degenerate descendants of those tribes which once overran that portion +of the continent of North America now comprehended within the boundaries +of Mexico, and who have left such startling evidences in their track of +a comparatively superior state of civilisation. They now form an outcast +tribe of the great nation of the Apache, which extends under various +names from the Great Salt Lake along the table-lands on each side the +Sierra Madre to the tropic of Cancer, where they merge into what are +called the Mexican Indians. The whole of this nation is characterised by +most abject cowardice; and they even refuse to meet the helpless +Mexicans in open fight—unlike the Yutah or Camanche, who carry bold and +open warfare into the territories of their civilised enemy, and never +shrink from hand to hand encounter. The Apaches and the degenerate +Diggers pursue a cowardly warfare, hiding in ambush, and shooting the +passer-by with arrows; or, dashing upon him at night when steeped in +sleep, they bury their arrow to the feather in his heaving breast. As +the Mexicans say, “_Sin ventaja, no salen_;” they never attack without +odds. But they are not the less dangerous enemies on this account; and +by the small bands of trappers who visit their country, they are the +more dreaded by reason of this coward and wolfish system of warfare. + +To provide against surprise, therefore, as the hunters rode along, +flankers were extended _en guerilla_ on each side, mounting the high +points to reconnoitre the country, and keeping a sharp look-out for the +Indian sign. At night the animals were securely hobbled, and a +horse-guard posted round them—a service of great danger, as the stealthy +cat-like Diggers are often known to steal up silently, under cover of +the darkness, towards the sentinel, shoot him with their arrows, and, +approaching the animals, cut the hobbles and drive them away unseen. + +One night they encamped on a creek where was but little of the coarsest +pasture, and that little scattered here and there; so that they were +compelled to allow their animals to roam farther than usual from camp in +search of food. Four of the hunters, however, accompanied them to guard +against surprise; whilst but half of those in camp laid down to sleep, +the others, with rifles in their hands, remaining prepared for any +emergencies. This day they had killed one of their two pack mules for +food, game not having been met with for several days; but the animal was +so poor, that it scarcely afforded more than one tolerable meal to the +whole party. + +A short time before the dawn of day an alarm was given; the animals were +heard to snort violently; a loud shout was heard, followed by the sharp +crack of a rifle, and the tramp of galloping horses plainly showed that +a stampede had been effected. The whites instantly sprang to their arms, +and rushed in the direction of the sounds. The body of the cavallada, +however, had luckily turned, and, being headed by the mountaineers, were +surrounded and secured, with the loss of only three, which had probably +been mounted by the Indians. + +Day breaking soon after, one of their band was discovered to be missing; +and it was then found that a man who had been standing horse-guard at +the time of the attack, had not come into camp with his companions. At +that moment a thin spiral column of smoke was seen to rise from the +banks of the creek, telling but too surely the fate of the missing +mountaineer. It was the signal of the Indians to their people that a +“_coup_” had been struck, and that an enemy’s scalp remained in their +triumphant hands. + +“H——!” exclaimed the trappers in a breath; and soon imprecations and +threats of revenge, loud and deep, were showered upon the heads of the +treacherous Indians. Some of the party rushed to the spot where the +guard had stood, and there lay the body of their comrade, pierced with +lance and arrow, the scalp gone, and the body otherwise mutilated in a +barbarous manner. Five were quickly in the saddle, mounted upon the +strongest horses, and flying along the track of the Indians, who had +made off towards the mountains with their prize and booty. We will not +follow them in their work of bloody vengeance, save by saying that they +followed the savages to their village, into which they charged headlong, +recovered their stolen horses, and returned to camp at sundown with +thirteen scalps dangling from their rifles, in payment for the loss of +their unfortunate companion.[4] + +In their further advance, hunger and thirst were their daily companions; +they were compelled to kill several of their animals for food, but were +fortunate enough to replace them by a stroke of good luck in meeting a +party of Indians returning from an excursion against one of the +Californian settlements with a tolerably large band of horses. Our +hunters met this band one fine morning, and dashed into the midst at +once; half a dozen Indians bit the dust, and twenty horses were turned +over from red to white masters in as many seconds, which remounted those +whose animals had been eaten, and enabled the others to exchange their +worn-out steeds for fresh ones. This fortunate event was considered a +_coup_, and the event was celebrated by the slaughter of a fat young +horse, which furnished an excellent supper that night—a memorable event +in these starveling regions. + +They were now devouring their horses and mules at the rate of one every +alternate day; for, so poor were the animals, that one scarcely +furnished an ample meal for the thirteen hungry hunters. They were once +more reduced to the animals they rode on; and after a fast of +twenty-four hours’ duration, were debating on the propriety of drawing +lots as to whose Rosinante should fill the kettle, when some Indians +suddenly appeared making signs of peace upon the bluff, and indicating a +disposition to enter the camp for the purpose of trading. Being invited +to approach, they offered to trade a few dressed elk-skins; but being +asked for meat, they said that their village was a long way off, and +they had nothing with them but a small portion of some game they had +lately killed. When requested to produce this, they hesitated, but the +trappers looking hungry and angry at the same moment, an old Indian drew +from under his blanket several flaps of portable dried meat which he +declared was bear’s. It was but a small ration amongst so many; but, +being divided, was quickly laid upon the fire to broil. The meat was +stringy, and of whitish colour, altogether unlike any flesh the trappers +had before eaten. Killbuck was the first to discover this. He had been +quietly masticating the last mouthful of his portion, the stringiness of +which required more than usual dental exertion, when the novelty of the +flavour struck him as something singular. Suddenly his jaws ceased their +work, he thought a moment, took the morsel from his mouth, looked at it +intently, and dashed it into the fire. + +“Man-meat, by G—!” he cried out; and at the words every jaw stopped +work: the trappers looked at the meat and each other. + +“I’m dog-gone if it ain’t!” cried old Walker, looking at his piece, “and +white meat at that, wagh!” (and report said it was not the first time he +had tasted such viands;) and the conviction seizing each mind, every +mouthful was quickly spat into the fire, and the ire of the deceived +whites was instantly turned upon the luckless providers of the feast. +They saw the storm that was brewing, and without more ado turned tail +from the camp, and scuttled up the bluffs, where, turning round, they +fired a volley of arrows at the tricked mountaineers, and instantly +disappeared. + +However, the desert and its nomade pilferers were at length passed; the +sandy plains became grass-covered prairies; the monstrous cottonwood on +the creeks was replaced by oak and ash; the surface of the country grew +more undulating, and less broken up into cañons and ravines; elk and +deer leaped in the bottoms, and bands of antelope dotted the plains, +with occasional troops of wild horses, too wary to allow the approach of +man. On the banks of a picturesque stream called the San Joaquim, the +party halted a few days to recruit themselves and animals, feasting the +while on the fattest of venison and other game. They then struck to the +south-east for two days, until they reached a branch of the “Las +Animas,” a clear stream running through a pretty valley, well timbered +and abounding in game. Here, as they wound along the river-banks, a +horseman suddenly appeared upon the bluff above them, galloping at a +furious rate along the edge. His dress approached in some degree to +civilised attire. A broad-brimmed sombrero surmounted his swarthy face; +a coloured blanket, through a slit in which his head was thrust, floated +in the air from his shoulders; leathern leggings encased his lower +limbs; and huge spurs jingled on his heels. He rode in a high-peaked +Mexican saddle, his feet thrust in ponderous stirrups, and in his hand +swung a coil of ready lasso, his only offensive arm. One of the trappers +knew a little Spanish, and instantly hailed him. + +“_Compadre_,” he shouted, “_por onde va?_” The Californian reined in +suddenly, throwing the horse he rode on its very haunches, and darting +down the bluff, galloped unhesitatingly into the midst of the hunters. + +“_Americanos!_” he exclaimed glancing at them; and continued, +smiling—“_Y caballos quieren, por eso vienen tan lejitos. Jesus, que +mala gente!_” “It’s horses you want, and for this you come all this way. +Ah, what rogues you are!” + +He was an Indian, employed at the Mission of San Fernando, distant three +days’ journey from their present position, and was now searching for a +band of horses and mules which had strayed. San Fernando, it appeared, +had once before been visited by a party of mountain free-traders, and +the Indian therefore divined the object of the present one. He was, he +told them, “_un Indio, pero mansito_:” an Indian, but a tame one;[5] +“_de mas, Christiano_;” a Christian moreover, (exhibiting a small cross +which hung round his neck.) There were many people about the mission, he +said, who knew how to fight, and had plenty of arms; and there were +enough to “eat up” the “_Americanos, sin frijoles_,” without beans, as +he facetiously observed. For his part, however, he was very friendly to +the _Americanos_; he had once met a man of that nation who was a good +sort of fellow, and had made him a present of tobacco, of which he was +particularly fond. Finding this hint did not take, he said that the +horses and mules belonging to the mission were innumerable—“like that,” +he added, sweeping his hand to all points of the compass over the plain, +to intimate that they would cover that extent; and he could point out a +large herd grazing nearer at hand than the mission, and guarded but by +three _vaqueros_. Regaled with venison, and with a smoke of his coveted +tobacco, he rode off, and made his way to the mission without delay; +conveying the startling intelligence that a thousand Americans were upon +them. + +The next morning the thirteen doughty mountaineers quietly resumed their +journey, moving leisurely along towards the object of their expedition. + +It will not be out of place here to digress a little, in order to +describe the singular features of the establishments formed in those +remote regions by the Catholic church, as nuclei round which to +concentrate the wandering tribes that inhabit the country, with a view +to give them the benefit of civilised example, and to wean them from +their restless nomadic habits. + +The establishment of missions in Upper California is coeval with the +first settlement of Southern Mexico. No sooner had Spanish rule taken a +firm foothold in the Aztec empire, than the avowed primary object of the +military expedition began to be carried into effect. “To save the souls” +of the savage and barbarous subjects of their most Catholic majesties +was ever inculcated upon the governors of the conquered country as the +grand object to be sought after, as soon as tranquillity was partially +restored by the submission of the Mexicans; and the cross, the sacred +emblem of the Catholic faith, was to be upraised in the remotest corners +of the country, and the natives instructed and compelled to worship it, +in lieu of the grotesque images of their own idolatrous religion. + +To carry into effect these orthodox instructions, troops of pious +priests, of friars and monks of every order, and even of saintly nuns, +followed in the wake of the victorious armies of Cortez; and girding up +their loins with zealous fervour and enthusiasm, and with an enterprise +and hardihood worthy of buccaneers, they pushed their adventurous way +far into the bowels of the land, preaching devoutly and with commendable +perseverance to savages who did not understand a syllable of what they +so eloquently discoursed; and returning, after the lapse of many months +passed in this first attempt, with glowing accounts of the “_muy buen +indole_,” the very ductile disposition of the savages, and of the +thousands they had converted to “_la santa fé catolica_.” + +Ferdinand and Isabel, of glorious memory, at once beat up for +volunteers. Crowds of Franciscan monks, greasy Capuchinos, and nuns of +orthodox odour, joined the band; and saints even of the feminine gender, +long since canonised and up aloft amongst the goodly muster of saints +and martyrs, put foot once more on _terra firma_, and, rosary in hand, +crossed the seas to participate in the good work. As proof of this +latter fact, one Venabides, a Franciscan, whose veracity is beyond +impeachment, declared that, while preaching in the regions now known as +New Mexico, one million Indians from the “rumbo” known as Cibolo, a +mighty nation, approached his temporary pulpit on the Rio Grande, and +requested in a body the favour of being baptised. Struck with the +singularity of this request from Indians with whom he had as yet held no +communication, and with conscientious scruple as to whether he would be +justified in performing such ceremony without their having received +previous instruction, he hesitated a few moments before making an +answer. At this juncture, the Indians espied a medallion which hung +around his neck, bearing the effigy of a certain saint of extraordinary +virtue. At sight of this they fell on their knees before it; and it was +some time before they found words (in what language does not appear) to +explain to the holy father that the original of that effigy, which hung +pendant from his neck, had been long amongst them instructing them in +the elements of the Christian religion, and had only lately disappeared; +informing them that certain reverend men would shortly appear in the +land, who would finish the good work she had devoutly commenced, and +clench the business by baptising the one million miserable sinners who +now knelt before El Padre Venabides. + +“Valgame Dios!” reverently exclaimed that worthy man, “qui milagro es +este;” [what a miracle is this I hear;] and casting up his eyes, and +speaking slowly, as if he weighed every word, and taxing his memory of +the historical calendar of saints, continued,— + +“_Se murió—aquella—santissima—muger—en el ano 175—es decir—ya +hacen—mil—quatro—cientos—anos._” [That most holy woman died in the year +175, that is to say, one thousand four hundred years ago.] + +“Oh, what a strange thing is this!” the padre continues devoutly. “After +so many ages spent in heaven in company of the angels, of most holy men, +and of virgins the most pure; and, perhaps, also in the company of my +worthy and esteemed friend and patron Don Vincente Carvajal y Calvo, who +died a few years ago in San Lucar of Xeres, (bequeathing me certain +arrobas of dry wine, of a class I greatly esteem,—for which act he +deserved to be canonised, and, I have no doubt, is,) the said Don +Vincente Carvajal y Calvo being, moreover, a man of the purest and +holiest thoughts, (Dios mio! what a puchero that man always had on his +table!) this holy woman comes here—to these wild and remote regions; +this holy woman, (who died fifteen hundred years ago,) abandoning the +company of angels, of holy men, and sanctified women and virgins, and +also of Don Vincente Carvajal y Calvo, (that worthy man!)—comes here, I +say, where there are neither pucheros, nor garbanzos, nor dry wine, nor +sweet wine, neither of Xeres, nor of Val de Peñas, nor of Peralta; +where” (sobbed the padre, and bellowed the last word) “there is—nothing +either to eat or to drink. Valgame Purissima Maria! And what is the name +of this holy woman? the world will ask,” continues Venabides. “Santa +Clara of Carmona is her name, one well known in my native country, who +leaves heaven and all its joys, wends her way to the distant wilds of +New Spain, and spends years in inducting the savage people to the holy +faith. Truly a pious work, and pleasing to God!”[6] + +Thus spoke Venabides the Franciscan, and no doubt he believed what he +said; and many others in Old Spain were fools enough to believe it too, +for the shaven heads flocked over in greater numbers, and the cry was +ever “still they come.” + +Along the whole extent of the table-lands, not an Indian tribe but was +speedily visited by the preaching friars and monks; and, in less than a +century after the conquest of Mexico by the Spaniards, these hardy and +enthusiastic frayles had pushed their way into the inhospitable regions +of New Mexico, nearly two thousand miles distant from the valley of +Anahuac. How they succeeded in surmounting the natural obstacles +presented by the wild and barren deserts they traversed; how they +escaped the infinite peril they encountered at every step, at the hands +of the savage inhabitants of the country, with whose language they were +totally unacquainted, is sufficient puzzle to those who, in the present +day, have attempted a journey in the same regions. + +However, it is impossible not to admire the hardihood of these holy +pioneers of civilisation, who, totally unfitted by their former mode of +life for undergoing such hardships as they must have anticipated, threw +themselves into the wilderness with fearless and stubborn zeal. + +For the most part, however, they found the Indians exceedingly +hospitable and well disposed; and it was not until some time after—when, +receiving from the missionary monks glowing, and not always very +truthful accounts of the riches of the country in which they had located +themselves, the governors of Mexico despatched armed expeditions under +adventurous desperadoes to take and retain possession of the said +country, with orders to compel the submission of the native tribes, and +enforce their obedience to the authority of the whites—that the simple +and confiding Indians began to see the folly they had committed in +permitting the residence amongst them of these superior beings, whom +they had first looked upon as more than mortal, but who, when strong +enough to do so, were not long in throwing off the mask, and proving to +the simple savages that they were much “more human than divine.” + +Thus, in the province of New Mexico, Fray Augustin Ruiz, with his +co-preachers Marcos and Venabides, were kindly received by the native +inhabitants, and we have seen how one million (?) Indians came from the +“rumbo” of the Cibolo, ready and willing to receive the baptismal +sacrament. This Cibolo, or Sivulo, as it is written in some old MSS., +is, by the way, mysteriously alluded to by the monkish historians who +have written on this region, as being a kingdom inhabited by a very +superior class of Indians to any met with between Anahuac and the Vale +of Taos—in the enjoyment of a high state of civilisation, inhabiting a +well-built city, the houses of which were three stories high, and having +attained considerable perfection in the domestic arts. This, +notwithstanding the authority of Don Francisco Vasquez Coronado, who +visited Cibolo, and of Solis and Venegas, who have guaranteed the +assertion, must be received _cum grano salis_; but, at all events, the +civilisation of the mysterious Cibolo may be compared to that of the +Aztec empire, under Montezuma, at the time of the Spanish Conquest, both +being egregiously exaggerated by the historians of the day. Cibolo was +situated on a river called Tegue. At this day, neither name is known to +the inhabitants of New Mexico. If pate-shaven Venabides had held his +tongue, New Mexico might now be in the peaceful possession of the +Catholic Missions, and the property of the Church of Mexico pretty +considerably enhanced by the valuable _placeres_, or gold washings, +which abound in that province. Full, however, of the wonderful miracle +of Santa Clara of Carmona, which had been brought to light through the +agency of the medallion at the end of his rosario, Fray Venabides must +needs return to Spain, and humbug poor old Fernando, and even the more +sensible Isabel, with wonderful accounts of the riches of the country he +had been instrumental in exploring, and of the excellent disposition of +the natives to receive the word of God. Don Juan Oñate was, therefore, +quickly despatched to take possession; and in his train followed twelve +Castilian families of _sangre azul_, to colonise the newly-acquired +territory. The names of these still remain, disgraced by the degenerate +wretches who now bear them, but in whom scarce a drop of blood remains +which ever filtered from the veins of the paladins of Old Castile. + +Then commenced the troublous times. The missions were upheld by dint of +steel alone; and, on every occasion, the Indians rose, and often +massacred their white persecutors. The colonists were more than once +driven bodily from New Mexico, and were only reinstated by the aid of +large bodies of armed men. + +In California, however, they managed these things better. The wily monks +took care to keep all interlopers from the country, established +themselves in snug quarters, instructed the Indians in agriculture, and +soon gained such an ascendency over them, that no difficulty was +experienced in keeping them under proper and wholesome restraint. Strong +and commodious missions were built and fortified, well stored with arms +and ammunition, and containing sufficient defenders to defy attack. +Luxuriant gardens and thriving vineyards soon surrounded these isolated +stations: the plains waved with golden corn; whilst domestic cattle, +thriving on the rich pasture, and roaming far and near, multiplied and +increased a hundred-fold. + +Nothing can be more beautiful than the appearance of one of these +missions, to the traveller who has lately passed the arid and barren +wilderness of the North-west. The _adobe_ walls of the convent-looking +building, surmounted by cross and belfry, are generally hidden in a mass +of luxuriant vegetation. Fig-trees, bananas, cherry, and apple, +leaf-spreading platanos, and groves of olives, form umbrageous vistas, +under which the sleek monks delight to wander; gardens, cultivated by +their own hands, testify to the horticultural skill of the worthy +padres; whilst vineyards yield their grateful produce to gladden the +hearts of the holy exiles in these western solitudes. Vast herds of +cattle roam half-wild on the plains, and bands of mules and horses, +whose fame has even reached the distant table-lands of the Rocky +Mountains, and excited the covetousness of the hunters—and thousands of +which, from the day they are foaled to that of their death, never feel a +saddle on their backs—cover the country. Indians (Mansitos) idle round +the skirts of these vast herds, (whose very numbers keep them together,) +living, at their own choice, upon the flesh of mule, or ox, or horse. + + + + + THE CAXTONS.—PART VI. + + + CHAPTER XVIII. + +“I don’t know that,” said my father. + +“What is it my father does not know? My father does not know that +happiness is our being’s end and aim.” + +And pertinent to what does my father reply, by words so sceptical, to an +assertion so little disputed? + +Reader, Mr Trevanion has been half-an-hour seated in our little +drawing-room. He has received two cups of tea from my mother’s fair +hand; he has made himself at home. With Mr Trevanion has come another +old friend of my father’s, whom he has not seen since he left +college—Sir Sedley Beaudesert. + +Now, you must understand that it is a warm night, a little after nine +o’clock—a night between departing summer and approaching autumn—the +windows are open—we have a balcony, which my mother has taken care to +fill with flowers—the air, though we are in London, is sweet and +fresh—the street quiet, except that an occasional carriage or hackney +cabriolet rolls rapidly by—a few stealthy passengers pass to and fro +noiselessly on their way homeward. We are on classic ground—near that +old and venerable Museum, the dark monastic pile, with its learned +treasures, which the taste of the age had spared then—and the quiet of +the temple seems to hallow the precincts; Captain Roland is seated by +the fireplace, and though there is no fire, he is shading his face with +a handscreen; my father and Mr Trevanion have drawn their chairs close +to each other in the middle of the room; Sir Sedley Beaudesert leans +against the wall near the window, and behind my mother, who looks +prettier and more pleased than usual, since her Austin has his old +friends about him; and I, leaning my elbow on the table, and my chin +upon my hand, am gazing with great admiration on Sir Sedley Beaudesert. + +O rare specimen of a race fast decaying!—specimen of the true fine +gentleman, ere the word dandy was known, and before exquisite became a +noun substantive—let me here pause to describe thee! Sir Sedley +Beaudesert was the contemporary of Trevanion and my father; but, without +affecting to be young, he still seemed so. Dress, tone, look, manner—all +were young—yet all had a certain dignity which does not belong to youth. +At the age of five-and-twenty, he had won what would have been fame to a +French marquis of the old regime, viz.—he was “the most charming man of +his day”—the most popular with our sex—the most favoured, my dear lady +reader, with yours. It is a mistake, I believe, to suppose that it does +not require talent to become the fashion; at all events, Sir Sedley was +the fashion, and he had talent. He had travelled much, he had read +much—especially in memoirs, history, and belles-lettres—he made verses +with grace and a certain originality of easy wit and courtly +sentiment—he conversed delightfully—he was polished and urbane in +manner—he was brave and honourable in conduct; in words he could +flatter—in deeds he was sincere. + +Sir Sedley Beaudesert had never married. Whatever his years, he was +still young enough in looks to be married for love. He was high-born, he +was rich; he was, as I have said, popular; yet on his fair features +there was an expression of melancholy; and on that forehead—pure from +the lines of ambition, and free from the weight of study—there was the +shadow of unmistakeable regret. + +“I don’t know that,” said my father; “I have never yet found in life one +man who made happiness his end and aim. One wants to gain a fortune, +another to spend it—one to get a place, another to build a name; but +they all know very well that it is not happiness they search for. No +Utilitarian was ever actuated by self-interest, poor man, when he sate +down to scribble his unpopular crochets to prove self-interest +universal. And as to that notable distinction—between self-interest +vulgar and self-interest enlightened—the more the self-interest is +enlightened, the less we are influenced by it. If you tell the young man +who has just written a fine book or made a fine speech, that he will not +be any happier if he attains to the fame of Milton, or the power of +Pitt, and that, for the sake of his own happiness, he had much better +cultivate a farm, live in the country, and postpone to the last the days +of dyspepsia and gout, he will answer you fairly,—‘I am quite as +sensible of that as you are. But I am not thinking whether or not I +shall be happy. I have made up my mind to be, if I can, a great author +or a prime minister.’ So it is with all the active sons of the world. To +push on is the law of nature. And you can no more say to men and to +nations than to children,—‘Sit still, and don’t wear out your shoes!’” + +“Then,” said Trevanion, “if I tell you I am not happy, your only answer +is, that I obey an inevitable law.” + +“No! I don’t say that it is an inevitable law that man should not be +happy; but it is an inevitable law that a man, in spite of himself, +should live for something higher than his own happiness. He cannot live +in himself or for himself, however egotistical he may try to be. Every +desire he has links him with others. Man is not a machine—he is a part +of one.” + +“True, brother, he is a soldier, not an army,” said Captain Roland. + +“Life is a drama, not a monologue,” pursued my father. “Drama is derived +from a Greek verb, signifying _to do_. Every actor in the drama has +something to do, which helps on the progress of the whole: that is the +object for which the Author created him. Do your part, and let the Great +Play get on.” + +“Ah!” said Trevanion briskly, “but to do the part is the difficulty! +Every actor helps to the catastrophe, and yet must do his part without +knowing how all is to end. Shall he help the curtain to fall on a +tragedy or a comedy? Come, I will tell you the one secret of my public +life—that which explains all its failure (for, in spite of my position, +I have failed) and its regrets—_I want conviction!_” + +“Exactly,” said my father; “because to every question there are two +sides, and you look at them both.” + +“You have said it,” answered Trevanion, smiling also. “For public life a +man should be one-sided; he must act with a party; and a party insists +that the shield is silver, when, if it will take the trouble to turn the +corner, it will see that the reverse of the shield is gold. Wo to the +man who makes that discovery alone, while his party are still swearing +the shield is silver, and that not once in his life, but every night!” + +“You have said quite enough to convince me that you ought not to belong +to a party, but not enough to convince me why you should not be happy,” +said my father. + +“Do you remember,” said Sir Sedley Beaudesert, “an anecdote of the first +Duke of Portland? He had a gallery in the great stable of his villa in +Holland, where a concert was given once a-week, to _cheer and amuse_ his +horses! I have no doubt the horses thrived all the better for it. What +Trevanion wants is a concert once a-week. With him it is always saddle +and spur. Yet, after all, who would not envy him? If life be a drama, +his name stands high in the playbill, and is printed in capitals on the +walls.” + +“Envy ME!” cried Trevanion—“ME!—no, you are the enviable man—you who +have only one grief in the world, and that so absurd a one, that I will +make you blush by disclosing it. Hear, O sage Austin!—O sturdy +Roland!—Olivares was haunted by a spectre, and Sedley Beaudesert by the +dread of old age!” + +“Well,” said my mother seriously, “I do think it requires a great sense +of religion, or, at all events, children of one’s own, in whom one is +young again, to reconcile one’s-self to becoming old.” + +“My dear ma’am,” said Sir Sedley, who had slightly coloured at +Trevanion’s charge, but had now recovered his easy self-possession, “you +have spoken so admirably that you give me courage to confess my +weakness. I do dread to be old. All the joys of my life have been the +joys of youth. I have had so exquisite a pleasure in the mere sense of +living, that old age, as it comes near, terrifies me by its dull eyes +and gray hairs. I have lived the life of the butterfly. Summer is over, +and I see my flowers withering; and my wings are chilled by the first +airs of winter. Yes, I envy Trevanion; for, in public life, no man is +ever young; and while he can work he is never old.” + +“My dear Beaudesert,” said my father, “when St Amable, patron saint of +Riom, in Auvergne, went to Rome, the sun waited upon him as a servant, +carried his cloak and gloves for him in the heat, and kept off the rain, +if the weather changed, like an umbrella. You want to put the sun to the +same use; you are quite right; but then, you see, you must first be a +saint before you can be sure of the sun as a servant.” + +Sir Sedley smiled charmingly; but the smile changed to a sigh as he +added, “I don’t think I should much mind being a saint if the sun would +be my sentinel instead of my courier. I want nothing of him but to stand +still. You see he moved even for St Amable. My dear madam, you and I +understand each other; and it is a very hard thing to grow old, do what +one will to keep young.” + +“What say you, Roland, of these two malcontents?” asked my father. The +Captain turned uneasily in his chair, for the rheumatism was gnawing his +shoulder, and sharp pains were shooting through his mutilated limb. + +“I say,” answered Roland, “that these men are wearied with marching from +Brentford to Windsor—that they have never known the bivouac and the +battle.” + +Both the grumblers turned their eyes to the veteran: the eyes rested +first on the furrowed, care-worn lines on his eagle face—then they fell +on the stiff, outstretched cork limb—and then they turned away. + +Meanwhile my mother had softly risen, and, under pretence of looking for +her work on the table near him, bent over the old soldier, and pressed +his hand. + +“Gentlemen,” said my father, “I don’t think my brother ever heard of +Nichocorus, the Greek comic writer; yet he has illustrated him very +ably. Saith Nichocorus, ‘the best cure for drunkenness is a sudden +calamity.’ For chronic drunkenness, a continued course of real +misfortune must be very salutary!” + +No answer came from the two complainants; and my father took up a great +book. + + + CHAPTER XIX. + +“My friends,” said my father, looking up from his book, and addressing +himself to his two visitors, “I know of one thing, milder than calamity, +that would do you both a great deal of good.” + +“What is that?” asked Sir Sedley. + +“A saffron bag, worn at the pit of the stomach!” + +“Austin, my dear!” said my mother reprovingly. + +My father did not heed the interruption, but continued gravely,—“Nothing +is better for the spirits! Roland is in no want of saffron, because he +is a warrior; and the desire of fighting, and the hope of victory, +infuse such a heat into the spirits as is profitable for long life, and +keeps up the system.” + +“Tut!” said Trevanion. + +“But gentlemen in your predicament must have recourse to artificial +means. Nitre in broth, for instance—about three grains to ten—(cattle +fed upon nitre grow fat); or earthy odours—such as exist in cucumbers +and cabbage. A certain great lord had a clod of fresh earth, laid in a +napkin, put under his nose every morning after sleep. Light anointing of +the head with oil, mixed with roses and salt, is not bad; but, upon the +whole, I prescribe the saffron bag at the”— + +“Sisty, my dear, will you look for my scissors?” said my mother. + +“What nonsense are you talking! Question, question!” cried Mr Trevanion. + +“Nonsense!” exclaimed my father, opening his eyes; “I am giving you the +advice of Lord Bacon.—You want conviction—conviction comes from +passion—passion from the spirits—spirits from a saffron bag. You, +Beaudesert, on the other hand, want to keep youth. He keeps youth +longest who lives longest. Nothing more conduces to longevity than a +saffron bag, provided always it is worn at the”— + +“Sisty, my thimble!” said my mother. + +“You laugh at us justly,” said Beaudesert, smiling; “and the same +remedy, I dare say, would cure us both!” + +“Yes,” said my father, “there is no doubt of that. In the pit of the +stomach is that great central web of nerves called the ganglions; thence +they affect the head and the heart. Mr Squills proved that to us, +Sisty.” + +“Yes,” said I; “but I never heard Mr Squills talk of a saffron bag.” + +“Oh, foolish boy! it is not the saffron bag—it is the belief in the +saffron bag. Apply BELIEF to the centre of the nerves, and all will go +well,” said my father. + + + CHAPTER XX. + +“But it is a devil of a thing to have too nice a conscience!” quoth the +member of Parliament. + +“And it is not an angel of a thing to lose one’s front teeth!” sighed +the fine gentleman. + +Therewith my father rose, and, putting his hand into his waistcoat, +_more suo_, delivered his famous + + SERMON UPON THE CONNEXION BETWEEN FAITH AND PURPOSE. + +Famous it was in our domestic circle. But as yet, it has not gone +beyond. And since the reader, I am sure, does not turn to the Caxton +memoirs with the expectation of finding sermons, so to that circle let +its fame be circumscribed. All I shall say about it is, that it was a +very fine sermon, and that it proved indisputably, to me at least, the +salubrious effects of a saffron bag applied to the great centre of the +nervous system. But the wise Ali saith, that “a fool doth not know what +maketh him look little, neither will he hearken to him that adviseth +him.” I cannot assert that my father’s friends were fools, but they +certainly came under this definition of Folly. + + + CHAPTER XXI. + +For therewith arose not conviction but discussion; Trevanion was +logical, Beaudesert sentimental. My father held firm to the saffron bag. +When James the First dedicated to the Duke of Buckingham his Meditation +on the Lord’s Prayer, he gave a very sensible reason for selecting his +grace for that honour,—“For,” (saith the king) “it is made upon a very +short and plaine prayer, and, therefore, the fitter for a courtier, for +courtiers are for the most part thought neither to have lust nor leisure +to say long prayers; liking best _courte messe et long disner_.” I +suppose it was for a similar reason that my father persisted in +dedicating to the member of parliament and the fine gentleman, this +“short and plaine” morality of his—to wit, the saffron bag. He was +evidently persuaded, if he could once get them to apply that, it was all +that was needful; that they had neither lust nor leisure for longer +instructions. And this saffron bag,—it came down with such a whack, at +every round in the argument! You would have thought my father one of the +old plebeian combatants in the popular ordeal, who, forbidden to use +sword and lance, fought with a sand-bag tied to a flail: a very stunning +weapon it was when filled only with sand; but a bag filled with +saffron,—it was irresistible! Though my father had two to one against +him, they could not stand such a deuce of a weapon. And after tuts and +pishes innumerable from Mr Trevanion, and sundry bland grimaces from Sir +Sedley Beaudesert, they fairly gave in, though they would not own they +were beaten. + +“Enough,” said the member, “I see that you don’t comprehend me; I must +continue to move by my own impulse.” + +My father’s pet book was the Colloquies of Erasmus; he was wont to say +that those Colloquies furnished life with illustrations in every page. +Out of the Colloquies of Erasmus he now answered the member:— + +“Rabirius, wanting his servant Syrus to get up,” quoth my father, “cried +out to him to move. ‘I do move,’ said Syrus. ‘I see you move,’ replied +Rabirius, ‘but you _move nothing_.’ To return to the saffron bag,—” + +“Confound the saffron bag!” cried Trevanion in a rage; and then, +softening his look as he drew on his gloves, he turned to my mother, and +said, with more politeness than was natural to, or at least customary +with him:— + +“By the way, my dear Mrs Caxton, I should tell you that Lady Ellinor +comes to town to-morrow, on purpose to call on you. We shall be here +some little time, Austin; and though London is so empty, there are still +some persons of note to whom I should like to introduce you, and yours—” + +“Nay,” said my father, “your world and my world are not the same. Books +for me, and men for you. Neither Kitty nor I can change our habits, even +for friendship; she has a great piece of work to finish, and so have I. +Mountains cannot stir, especially when in labour; but Mahomet can come +to the mountain as often as he likes.” + +Mr Trevanion insisted, and Sir Sedley Beaudesert mildly put in his own +claims; both boasted acquaintance with literary men, whom my father +would, at all events, be pleased to meet. My father doubted whether he +could meet any literary men more eloquent than Cicero, or more amusing +than Aristophanes; and observed, that if such did exist, he would rather +meet them in their books than in a drawing-room. In fine, he was +immovable; and so also, with less argument, was Captain Roland. + +Then Mr Trevanion turned to me. + +“Your son, at all events, should see something of the world.” + +My mother’s soft eyes sparkled. + +“My dear friend, I thank you,” said my father, touched; “and Pisistratus +and I will talk it over.” + +Our guests had departed. All four of us gathered to the open window, and +enjoyed in silence the cool air and the moonlight. + +“Austin,” said my mother at last, “I fear it is for my sake that you +refuse going amongst your old friends: you knew I should be frightened +by such fine people, and—” + +“And we have been happy for more than eighteen years without them, +Kitty! My poor friends are not happy, and we are. To leave well alone is +a golden rule worth all in Pythagoras. The ladies of Bubastis, my dear, +a place in Egypt where the cat was worshipped, always kept rigidly aloof +from the gentlemen in Athribis, who adored the shrewmice. Cats are +domestic animals,—your shrewmice are sad gadabouts: you can’t find a +better model, my Kitty, than the ladies of Bubastis!” + +“How Trevanion is altered!” said Roland, musingly—“he who was so lively +and ardent!” + +“He ran too fast up-hill at first, and has been out of breath ever +since,” said my father. + +“And Lady Ellinor;” said Roland, hesitatingly, “shall you see her +to-morrow?” + +“Yes!” said my father, calmly. + +As Captain Roland spoke, something in the tone of his question seemed to +flash a conviction on my mother’s heart,—the woman there was quick; she +drew back, turning pale, even in the moonlight, and fixed her eyes on my +father, while I felt her hand which had clasped mine tremble +convulsively. + +I understood her. Yes, this Lady Ellinor was the early rival whose name +till then she had not known. She fixed her eyes on my father, and at his +tranquil tone and quiet look she breathed more freely, and sliding her +hand from mine rested it fondly on his shoulder. A few moments +afterwards, I and Captain Roland found ourselves standing alone by the +window. + +“You are young, nephew,” said the Captain; “and you have the name of a +fallen family to raise. Your father does well not to reject for you that +opening into the great world which Trevanion offers. As for me, my +business in London seems over: I cannot find what I came to seek. I have +sent for my daughter; when she arrives I shall return to my old tower; +and the man and the ruin will crumble away together.” + +“Tush, uncle! I must work hard and get money; and then we will repair +the old tower, and buy back the old estate. My father shall sell the red +brick house; we will fit him up a library in the keep; and we will all +live united, in peace, and in state, as grand as our ancestors before +us.” + +While I thus spoke, my uncle’s eyes were fixed upon a corner of the +street, where a figure, half in shade half in moonlight, stood +motionless. “Ah!” said I following his eye, “I have observed that man, +two or three times, pass up and down the street on the other side of the +way, and turn his head towards our window. Our guests were with us then, +and my father in full discourse, or I should have—” + +Before I could finish the sentence, my uncle, stifling an exclamation, +broke away, hurried out of the room, stumped down the stairs, and was in +the street, while I was yet rooted to the spot with surprise. I remained +at the window, and my eye rested on the figure. I saw the Captain, with +his bare head and his gray hair, cross the street; the figure started, +turned the corner, and fled. + +Then I followed my uncle, and arrived in time to save him from falling: +he leant his head on my breast, and I heard him murmur,—“It is he—it is +he! He has watched us!—he repents!” + + + CHAPTER XXII. + +The next day Lady Ellinor called; but to my great disappointment without +Fanny. + +Whether or not some joy at the incident of the previous night had served +to make my uncle more youthful than usual, I know not, but he looked to +me ten years younger when Lady Ellinor entered. How carefully the +buttoned up coat was brushed! how new and glossy was the black stock! +The poor Captain was restored to his pride, and mighty proud he looked! +With a glow on his cheek, and a fire in his eye; his head thrown back, +and his whole air composed, severe, Mavortian and majestic, as if +awaiting the charge of the French cuirassiers at the head of his +detachment. + +My father, on the contrary, was as usual (till dinner, when he always +dressed punctiliously, out of respect to his Kitty) in his easy morning +gown and slippers; and nothing but a certain compression in his lips +which had lasted all the morning, evinced his anticipation of the visit, +or the emotion it caused him. + +Lady Ellinor behaved beautifully. She could not conceal a certain +nervous trepidation, when she first took the hand my father extended; +and, in touching rebuke of the Captain’s stately bow, she held out to +him the hand left disengaged, with a look which brought Roland at once +to her side. It was a desertion of his colours to which nothing, short +of Ney’s shameful conduct at Napoleon’s return from Elba, affords a +parallel in history. Then, without waiting for introduction, and before +a word indeed was said, Lady Ellinor came to my mother so cordially, so +caressingly—she threw into her smile, voice, manner, such winning +sweetness, that I, intimately learned in my poor mother’s simple loving +heart, wondered how she refrained from throwing her arms round Lady +Ellinor’s neck, and kissing her outright. It must have been a great +conquest over herself not to do it! My turn came next; and talking to +me, and about me, soon set all parties at their ease—at least +apparently. + +What was said I cannot remember: I do not think one of us could. But an +hour slipped away, and there was no gap in the conversation. + +With curious interest, and a survey I strove to make impartial, I +compared Lady Ellinor with my mother. And I comprehended the fascination +the high-born lady must, in their earlier youth, have exercised over +both brothers, so dissimilar to each other. For _charm_ was the +characteristic of Lady Ellinor—a charm indefinable. It was not the mere +grace of refined breeding, though that went a great way; it was a charm +that seemed to spring from natural sympathy. Whomsoever she addressed, +that person appeared for the moment to engage all her attention, to +interest her whole mind. She had a gift of conversation very peculiar. +She made what she said like a continuation of what was said to her. She +seemed as if she had entered into your thoughts, and talked them aloud. +Her mind was evidently cultivated with great care, but she was perfectly +void of pedantry. A hint, an allusion, sufficed to show how much she +knew, to one well instructed, without mortifying or perplexing the +ignorant. Yes, there probably was the only woman my father had ever met +who could be the companion to his mind, walk through the garden of +knowledge by his side, and trim the flowers while he cleared the vistas. +On the other hand, there was an inborn nobility in Lady Ellinor’s +sentiments that must have struck the most susceptible chord in Roland’s +nature, and the sentiments took eloquence from the look, the mien, the +sweet dignity of the very turn of the head. Yes, she must have been a +fitting Orinda to a young Amadis. It was not hard to see that Lady +Ellinor was ambitious—that she had a love of fame, for fame itself—that +she was proud—that she set value (and that morbidly) on the world’s +opinion. This was perceptible when she spoke of her husband, even of her +daughter. It seemed to me as if she valued the intellect of the one, the +beauty of the other, by the gauge of the social distinction or the +fashionable _éclat_. She took measure of the gift, as I was taught at Dr +Herman’s to take measure of the height of a tower—by the length of the +shadow it cast upon the ground. + +My dear father, with such a wife you would never have lived eighteen +years, shivering on the edge of a great book! + +My dear uncle, with such a wife you would never have been contented with +a cork leg and a Waterloo medal! And I understand why Mr Trevanion, +“eager and ardent” as ye say he was in youth, with a heart bent on the +practical success of life, won the hand of the heiress. Well, you see Mr +Trevanion has contrived not to be happy! By the side of my listening, +admiring mother, with her blue eyes moist, and her coral lips apart, +Lady Ellinor looks faded. Was she ever as pretty as my mother is now? +Never. But she was much handsomer. What delicacy in the outline, and yet +how decided in spite of the delicacy! The eyebrow so defined—the profile +slightly aquiline, so clearly cut—with the curved nostril, which, if +physiognomists are right, shows sensibility so keen; and the classic lip +that, but for that dimple, would be so haughty. But wear and tear are in +that face. The nervous excitable temper has helped the fret and cark of +ambitious life. My dear uncle, I know not yet your private life. But as +for my father, I am sure that, though he might have done more on earth, +he would have been less fit for heaven, if he had married Lady Ellinor. + +At last this visit—dreaded, I am sure, by three of the party, was over, +but not before I had promised to dine at the Trevanions’ that day. + +When we were again alone, my father threw off a long breath, and looking +round him cheerfully, said, “Since Pisistratus deserts us, let us +console ourselves for his absence—send for brother Jack, and all four go +down to Richmond to drink tea.” + +“Thank you, Austin,” said Roland. “But I don’t want it, I assure you!” + +“Upon your honour?” said my father in a half whisper. + +“Upon my honour.” + +“Nor I either! So Kitty, Roland, and I will take a walk, and be back in +time to see if that young Anachronism looks as handsome as his new +London-made clothes will allow him. Properly speaking, he ought to go +with an apple in his hand, and a dove in his bosom. But now I think of +it, that was luckily not the fashion with the Athenians till the time of +Alcibiades!” + + + CHAPTER XXIII. + +You may judge of the effect that my dinner at Mr Trevanion’s, with a +long conversation after it with Lady Ellinor, made upon my mind, when, +on my return home, after having satisfied all questions of parental +curiosity, I said nervously, and looking down,—“My dear father,—I should +like very much, if you have no objection,—to—to—” + +“What, my dear?” asked my father kindly. + +“Accept an offer Lady Ellinor has made me, on the part of Mr Trevanion. +He wants a secretary. He is kind enough to excuse my inexperience, and +declares I shall do very well, and can soon get into his ways. Lady +Ellinor says (I continued with dignity) that it will be a great opening +in public life for me; and at all events, my dear father, I shall see +much of the world, and learn what I really think will be more useful to +me than any thing they will teach me at college.” + +My mother looked anxiously at my father. “It will indeed be a great +thing for Sisty,” said she timidly; and then taking courage she +added—“And that is just the sort of life he is formed for—” + +“Hem!” said my uncle. + +My father rubbed his spectacles thoughtfully, and replied, after a long +pause,— + +“You may be right, Kitty: I don’t think Pisistratus is meant for study; +action will suit him better. But what does this office lead to?” + +“Public employment, sir,” said I boldly; “the service of my country.” + +“If that be the case,” quoth Roland, “I have not a word to say. But I +should have thought that for a lad of spirit, a descendant of the old De +Caxtons, the army would have—” + +“The army!” exclaimed my mother, clasping her hands, and looking +involuntarily at my uncle’s cork leg. + +“The army!” repeated my father peevishly. “Bless my soul, Roland, you +seem to think man is made for nothing else but to be shot at! You would +not like the army, Pisistratus?” + +“Why, sir, not if it pained you and my dear mother; otherwise, indeed—” + +“Papæ!” said my father interrupting me. “This all comes of your giving +the boy that ambitious, uncomfortable name, Mrs Caxton; what could a +Pisistratus be but the plague of one’s life? That idea of serving his +country is Pisistratus ipsissimus all over. If ever I have another son, +(_Dii meliora!_) he has only got to be called Eratostratus, and then he +will be burning down St Paul’s; which I believe was, by the way, first +made out of the stones of the temple of Diana! Of the two, certainly, +you had better serve your country with a goose-quill than by poking a +bayonet into the ribs of some unfortunate Indian;—I don’t think there +are any other people whom the service of one’s country makes it +necessary to kill just at present,—eh, Roland?” + +“It is a very fine field, India,” said my uncle, sententiously. “It is +the nursery of captains.” + +“Is it? Those plants take up a great deal of ground, then, that might be +more profitably cultivated. And, indeed, considering that the tallest +captains in the world will be ultimately set into a box not above seven +feet at the longest, it is astonishing what a quantity of room that +species of _arbor mortis_ takes in the growing! However, Pisistratus, to +return to your request, I will think it over, and talk to Trevanion.” + +“Or rather to Lady Ellinor,” said I imprudently: my mother slightly +shivered, and took her hand from mine. I felt cut to the heart by the +slip of my own tongue. + +“That, I think, your mother could do best,” said my father, drily, “if +she wants to be quite convinced that somebody will see that your shirts +are aired. For I suppose they mean you to lodge at Trevanion’s.” + +“Oh, no!” cried my mother. “He might as well go to college then. I +thought he was to stay with us; only go in the morning, but, of course, +sleep here.” + +“If I know any thing of Trevanion,” said my father, “his secretary will +be expected to do without sleep. Poor boy, you don’t know what it is you +desire. And yet, at your age, I—” my father stopped short. “No!” he +renewed abruptly, after a long silence, and as if soliloquising. “No, +man is never wrong while he lives for others. The philosopher who +contemplates from the rock, is a less noble image than the sailor who +struggles with the storm. Why should there be two of us? And _could_ he +be an _alter ego_, even if I wished it? impossible!” My father turned on +his chair, and, laying the left leg on the right knee, said smilingly, +as he bent down to look me full in the face; “But, Pisistratus, will you +promise me always to wear the saffron bag?” + + + CHAPTER XXIV. + +I now make a long stride in my narrative. I am domesticated with the +Trevanions. A very short conversation with the statesman sufficed to +decide my father; and the pith of it lay in this single sentence uttered +by Trevanion—“I promise you one thing—he shall never be idle!” + +Looking back, I am convinced that my father was right, and that he +understood my character, and the temptations to which I was most prone, +when he consented to let me resign college and enter thus prematurely on +the world of men. I was naturally so joyous, that I should have made +college life a holiday, and then, in repentance, worked myself into a +phthisis. + +And my father, too, was right, that, though I could study, I was not +meant for a student. + +After all, the thing was an experiment. I had time to spare: if the +experiment failed, a year’s delay would not necessarily be a year’s +loss. + +I am ensconced, then, at Mr Trevanion’s. I have been there some +months—it is late in the winter—parliament and the season have +commenced. I work hard—Heaven knows, harder than I should have worked at +college. Take a day for a sample. + +Trevanion gets up at eight o’clock, and in all weathers rides an hour +before breakfast; at nine he takes that meal in his wife’s +dressing-room; at half-past nine he comes into his study. By that time +he expects to find done by his secretary the work I am about to +describe. + +On coming home, or rather before going to bed, which is usually after +three o’clock, it is Mr Trevanion’s habit to leave on the table of the +said study a list of directions for the secretary. The following, which +I take at random from many I have preserved, may show their multifarious +nature:— + + 1. Look out in the Reports—Committee House of Lords for the last + seven years—all that is said about the growth of flax—mark the + passages for me. + + 2. Do. do—“Irish Emigration.” + + 3. Hunt out second volume of Kames’s History of Man, passage + containing “Reid’s Logic”—don’t know where the book is! + + 4. How does the line beginning “Lumina conjurent, inter” something, + end? Is it in Gray? See! + + 5. Fracastorius writes—“Quantum hoc _infecit_ vitium, quot adiverit + urbes.” Query, Ought it not to be—_infecerit_ instead of + _infecit_?—if you don’t know, write to father. + + 6. Write the four letters in full from the notes I leave, _i.e._ + about the Ecclesiastical Courts. + + 7. Look out Population Returns—strike average of last five years + (between mortality and births), in Devonshire and Lancashire. + + 8. Answer these six begging-letters; “No”—civilly. + + 9. The other six, to constituents—“that I have no interest with + Government.” + + 10. See, if you have time, whether any of the new books on the round + table are not trash. + + 11. I want to know ALL about Indian corn! + + 12. Longinus says something, somewhere, in regret for uncongenial + pursuits, (public life, I suppose)—what is it? N.B. Longinus is + not in my London Catalogue, but is here I know—I think in a box + in the lumber-room. + + 13. Set right the calculation I leave on the poor-rates. I have made a + blunder somewhere. &c. &c. + +Certainly my father knew Mr Trevanion; he never expected a secretary to +sleep! To have all the above ready by half-past nine, I get up by +candle-light. At half-past nine I am still hunting for Longinus, when Mr +Trevanion comes in with a bundle of letters. + +Answers to half the said letters fall to my share. Directions verbal—in +a species of short-hand talk. While I write, Mr Trevanion reads the +newspapers—examines what I have done—makes notes therefrom, some for +Parliament, some for conversation, some for correspondence—skims over +the Parliamentary papers of the morning—and jots down directions for +extracting, abridging, and comparing them, with others, perhaps twenty +years old. At eleven he walks down to a Committee of the House of +Commons—leaving me plenty to do—till half-past three, when he returns. +At four, Fanny puts her head into the room—and I lose mine. Four days in +the week Mr Trevanion then disappears for the rest of the day,—dines at +Bellamy’s or a club—expects me at the House at eight o’clock, in case he +thinks of something, wants a fact or a quotation. He then releases +me—generally with a fresh list of instructions. But I have my holidays, +nevertheless. On Wednesdays and Saturdays Mr Trevanion gives dinners, +and I meet the most eminent men of the day—on both sides. For Trevanion +is on both sides himself—or on no side at all, which comes to the same +thing. On Tuesdays, Lady Ellinor gives me a ticket for the Opera, and I +get there at least in time for the ballet. I have already invitations +enough to balls and soirées, for I am regarded as an only son of great +expectations. I am treated as becomes a Caxton who has the right, if he +pleases, to put a De before his name. I have grown very smart. I have +taken a passion for dress—natural to eighteen. I like every thing I do, +and every one about me. I am over head and ears in love with Fanny +Trevanion—who breaks my heart, nevertheless; for she flirts with two +peers, a life-guardsman, three old members of parliament, Sir Sedley +Beaudesert, one ambassador, and all his attachés, and, positively, (the +audacious minx!) with a bishop, in full wig and apron, who, people say, +means to marry again. + +Pisistratus has lost colour and flesh. His mother says he is very much +improved,—_that_ he takes to be the natural effect produced by Stultz +and varnished boots. Uncle Jack says he is “fined down.” + +His father looks at him, and writes to Trevanion,— + +“Dear T.—I refused a salary for my son. Give him a horse, and two hours +a day to ride it. Yours, A. C.” + +The next day I am master of a pretty bay mare, and riding by the side of +Fanny Trevanion. Alas! alas! + + + CHAPTER XXV. + +I have not mentioned my Uncle Roland. He is gone—abroad—to fetch his +daughter. He has stayed longer than was expected. Does he seek his son +still—there as here? My father has finished the first portion of his +work, in two great volumes. Uncle Jack, who for some time has been +looking melancholy, and who now seldom stirs out, except on Sundays, (on +which days we all meet at my father’s and dine together)—Uncle Jack, I +say, has undertaken to sell it. + +“Don’t be over sanguine,” says Uncle Jack, as he locks up the MS. in two +red boxes with a slit in the lids, which belonged to one of the defunct +companies. “Don’t be over sanguine as to the price. These publishers +never venture much on a first experiment. They must be talked even into +looking at the book.” + +“Oh!” said my father, “if they will publish it at all, and at their own +risk, I should not stand out for any other terms. ‘Nothing great,’ said +Dryden, ‘ever came from a venal pen!’” + +“An uncommonly foolish observation of Dryden’s,” returned Uncle Jack: +“he ought to have known better.” + +“So he did,” said I, “for he used his pen to fill his pockets—poor man!” + +“But the pen was not venal, master Anachronism,” said my father. “A +baker is not to be called venal if he sells his loaves—he is venal if he +sells himself: Dryden only sold his loaves.” + +“And we must sell yours,” said Uncle Jack emphatically. “A thousand +pounds a volume will be about the mark, eh?” + +“A thousand pounds a volume?” cried my father. “Gibbon, I fancy, did not +receive more.” + +“Very likely; Gibbon had not an Uncle Jack to look after his interests,” +said Mr Tibbets, laughing, and rubbing those smooth hands of his. “No! +two thousand pounds the two volumes!—a sacrifice, but still I recommend +moderation.” + +“I should be happy, indeed, if the book brought in any thing,” said my +father, evidently fascinated—“for that young gentleman is rather +expensive; and you, my dear Jack;—perhaps half the sum may be of use to +you!” + +“To me! my dear brother,” cried Uncle Jack—“to me! why, when my new +speculation has succeeded, I shall be a millionnaire!” + +“Have you a new speculation, Uncle?” said I anxiously. “What is it?” + +“Mum!” said my uncle, putting his finger to his lip, and looking all +round the room—“Mum!! Mum!!!” + +PISISTRATUS.—“A Grand National Company for blowing up both Houses of +Parliament!” + +MR CAXTON.—“Upon my life, I hope something newer than that; for they, to +judge by the newspapers, don’t want brother Jack’s assistance to blow up +each other!” + +UNCLE JACK, mysteriously.—“Newspapers! you don’t often read a newspaper, +Austin Caxton!” + +MR CAXTON.—“Granted, John Tibbets!” + +UNCLE JACK.—“But if my speculation made you read a newspaper every day?” + +MR CAXTON, astounded.—“Made me read a newspaper every day!” + +UNCLE JACK, warming, and expanding his hands to the fire.—“As big as the +Times!” + +MR CAXTON, uneasily.—“Jack, you alarm me!” + +UNCLE JACK.—“And make you write in it, too,—a leader!” + +MR CAXTON, pushing back his chair, seizes the only weapon at his +command, and hurls at Uncle Jack a great sentence of Greek.—“Τους μεν +γαρ ειναι χαλεπους, ὁσε λαι ανθροποφαγειν!”[7] + +UNCLE JACK, nothing daunted.—“Ay, and put as much Greek as you like into +it!” + +MR CAXTON, relieved, and softening.—“My dear Jack, you are a great +man,—let us hear you!” + +Then Uncle Jack began. Now, perhaps my readers may have remarked that +this illustrious speculator was really fortunate in his ideas. His +speculations in themselves always had something sound in the kernel, +considering how barren they were in the fruit; and this it was that made +him so dangerous. The idea Uncle Jack had now got hold of will, I am +convinced, make a man’s fortune one of these days; and I relate it with +a sigh, in thinking how much has gone out of the family. Know, then, it +was nothing less than setting up a daily paper on the plan of the Times, +but devoted entirely to Art, Literature, and Science—_Mental_ Progress +in short; I say on the plan of the Times, for it was to imitate the +mighty machinery of that diurnal illuminator. It was to be the Literary +Salmoneus of the political Jupiter: and rattle its thunder over the +bridge of knowledge. It was to have correspondents in all parts of the +globe; every thing that related to the chronicle of the mind, from the +labour of a missionary in the South Sea islands, or the research of a +traveller in pursuit of that mirage called Timbuctoo, to the last new +novel at Paris, or the last great emendation of a Greek particle at a +German university, was to find a place in this focus of light. It was to +amuse, to instruct, to interest—there was nothing it was not to do. Not +a man in the whole reading public, not only of the three kingdoms, not +only of the British empire, but under the cope of heaven, that it was +not to touch somewhere, in head, in heart, or in pocket. The most +crotchety member of the intellectual community might find his own hobby +in those stables. + +“Think,” cried Uncle Jack—“think of the march of mind—think of the +passion for cheap knowledge—think how little quarterly, monthly, weekly +journals can keep pace with the main wants of the age. As well have a +weekly journal on politics, as a-weekly journal on all the matters still +more interesting than politics to the mass of the public. My Literary +Times once started, people will wonder how they had ever lived without +it! Sir, they have not lived without it—they have vegetated—they have +lived in holes and caves like the Troggledikes.” + +“Troglodytes,” said my father mildly—“from _trogle_, a cave—and _dumi_, +to go under. They lived in Ethiopia, and had their wives in common.” + +“As to the last point, I don’t say that the Public, poor creatures, are +as bad as that,” said Uncle Jack candidly; “but no simile holds good in +all its points. And the public are not less Troggledummies, or whatever +you call them, compared with what they will be when living under the +full light of my Literary Times. Sir, it will be a revolution in the +world. It will bring literature out of the clouds into the parlour, the +cottage, the kitchen. The idlest dandy, the finest fine lady, will find +something to her taste; the busiest man of the mart and counter will +find some acquisition to his practical knowledge. The practical man will +see the progress of divinity, medicine, nay, even law. Sir, the Indian +will read me under the banyan; I shall be in the seraglios of the East; +and over my sheets the American Indian will smoke the calumet of peace. +We shall reduce politics to its proper level in the affairs of +life—raise literature to its due place in the thoughts and business of +men. It is a grand thought; and my heart swells with pride while I +contemplate it!” + +“My dear Jack,” said my father, seriously, and rising with emotion, “it +_is_ a grand thought, and I honour you for it! You are quite right—it +would be a revolution! It would educate mankind insensibly. Upon my +life, I should be proud to write a leader, or a paragraph. Jack, you +will immortalise yourself!” + +“I believe I shall,” said Uncle Jack, modestly; “but I have not said a +word yet on the greatest attraction of all—” + +“Ah! and that—” + +“THE ADVERTISEMENTS!” cried my uncle, spreading his hands, with all the +fingers at angles, like the threads of a spider’s web. “The +advertisements—oh, think of them!—a perfect _El Dorado_. The +advertisements, sir, on the most moderate calculation, will bring us in +£50,000 a-year. My dear Pisistratus, I shall never marry, you are my +heir. Embrace me!” + +So saying, my Uncle Jack threw himself upon me, and squeezed out of +breath the prudential demur that was rising to my lips. + +My poor mother, between laughing and sobbing, faltered out—“And it is +_my_ brother who will pay back to _his_ son all, all he gave up for me!” + +While my father walked to and fro’ the room, more excited than ever I +saw him before, muttering,—“A sad useless dog I have been hitherto! I +should like to serve the world! I should indeed!” + +Uncle Jack had fairly done it this time! He had found out the only bait +in the world to catch so shy a carp as my father—“_hæret lethalis +arundo_.” I saw that the deadly hook was within an inch of my father’s +nose, and that he was gazing at it with a fixed determination to +swallow. + +But if it amused my father? Boy that I was, I saw no further. I must own +I myself was dazzled, and perhaps, with childlike malice, delighted at +the perturbation of my betters. The young carp was pleased to see the +waters so playfully in movement, when the old carp waved his tail, and +swayed himself on his fins. + +“Mum!” said Uncle Jack, releasing me: “not a word to Mr Trevanion, to +any one.” + +“But why?” + +“Why? God bless my soul. Why? If my scheme gets wind, do you suppose +some one will not clap on sail to be before me? You frighten me out of +my senses. Promise me faithfully to be silent as the grave—” + +“I should like to hear Trevanion’s opinion too—” + +“As well hear the town-crier! Sir, I have trusted to your honour. Sir, +at the domestic hearth all secrets are sacred. Sir, I—” + +“My dear Uncle Jack, you have said quite enough. Not a word will I +breathe!” + +“I’m sure you may trust him, Jack,” said my mother. + +“And I do trust him—with wealth untold,” replied my uncle. “May I ask +you for a little water—with a trifle of brandy in it—and a biscuit, or +indeed a sandwich. This talking makes me quite hungry.” + +My eye fell upon Uncle Jack as he spoke. Poor Uncle Jack, he had grown +thin! + + + + + LIFE AND TIMES OF GEORGE II.[8] + + +It has been the fortune of England to have undergone more revolutions +than any other kingdom of Europe. Later periods have made Revolution +synonymous with popular violence; but the more effectual revolution is +that which, being required by the necessities of a people, is directed +by the national judgment. It is not the convulsion of a tempest, which, +if it purifies the air, strips the soil; it is a change, not of +temperature but of the seasons, gradual but irresistible; it is a great +operation of moral Nature, in every change preparing for the more +abundant provision of public prosperity. + +It is an equally remarkable contrast to the condition of other kingdoms, +that while their popular revolutions have almost always plunged the +country into confusion, and been ultimately rectified only by the +salutary despotism of some powerful master, the hazards of our +revolutions have chiefly originated in personal ambition, and have been +reduced to order by popular sentiment. + +The Reformation was the first _great_ revolution of England: it formed +the national circle of light and darkness. All beyond it was civil war, +arbitrary power, and popular wretchedness—all within it has been +progress, growing vigour, increasing illumination, and more systematic +liberty. Like the day, it had its clouds; but the sun was still above, +ready to shine through their first opening. That sun has not yet stooped +from its meridian, and will go down, only when we forget to honour the +Beneficence and the power which commanded it to shine. + +The accession of the Hanoverian line was one of those peaceful +revolutions—it closed the era of Jacobitism. The reign of Anne had +vibrated between the principles of the constitution and the principles +of Charles II. Never was a balance more evenly poised, than the fate of +freedom against the return to arbitrary power. Anne herself was a +Jacobite—she had all the superstition of “Divine right.” By her nature +she had the infirmities of the convent. She was evidently fitter to be +an abbess than a queen: a character of frigidness and formality +designated her for the cloister; and if the Hanoverian succession had +not been palpably prepared before the national eye, to ascend the throne +at the moment when the royal coffin sank into the vault, England might +have seen the profligate son of James dealing out vengeance through a +corrupted or terrified legislature; the Reformation extinguished by the +Inquisitor; the jesuit at the royal ear, mass in Westminster Abbey, and +the scaffold the instrument of conversion to the supremacy of Rome. + +The expulsion of the Stuarts had left the throne to the disposal of the +nation. By the Bill of Rights, it was determined that the succession +should go to the heirs of William and Mary; and, in their default, to +Anne, daughter of James. But the deaths of Mary, and of the Duke of +Gloucester, awoke the hopes of Popery and the cabals of Jacobitism once +more. The danger was imminent. William became deeply anxious for the +Protestant succession, and a bill was brought into the House of Commons, +declaring that the crown should devolve on the Electress Sophia, +Duchess-dowager of Hanover, and her heirs,—the Electress of Hanover (or +more correctly, of Brunswick and Luneburg) being the tenth child of +Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, daughter of James I., the only Protestant +princess among the foreign relations of the line. The next in succession +to Anne in the Roman Catholic line would have been the houses of Savoy, +France, and Spain, through Henrietta, daughter of Charles I. This order +of succession was made law by the 12th of William III., and confirmed in +the next session by the Abjuration Act, (13th William,) so named from +the oath _abjuring_ the Pretender. + +It is striking to observe how many high matters of legislation have +seemed the work of casualty. The Habeas Corpus Act, confessedly the +noblest achievement of British liberty since Magna Charta, was said to +have been carried by a mistake in counting the votes of the House; the +limitation to the Electress was proposed by a half-lunatic; the oath of +abjuration was carried but by a majority of one; and the Reform Bill, +which, though a measure as doubtful in its principles as disappointing +in its promises, has yet exercised an extraordinary power over the +constitution, was carried in its second reading by a majority of only +one. + +It is more important to observe how large a share of legislation, in the +reign of Anne, was devoted to the security of the Protestant succession. +The 4th, 6th, and 10th of Anne are occupied in devising clauses to give +it force. It was guaranteed in all the great diplomatic transactions of +the reign,—in the Dutch Treaty of 1706, in the Barrier Treaty of 1709, +in the Guarantee Treaty of 1713, and in the Treaty of Utrecht of the +same year, between England and France, and England and Spain. + +This diligence and determination seem wholly due to the spirit of the +people. The Queen was almost a Jacobite; her ministers carried on +correspondences with the family of James; there was scarcely a man of +influence in public life who had not an agent at St Germains. Honest +scruples, too, had been long entertained among individuals of high rank. +Six of the seven bishops who had so boldly resisted the arrogance of +James, shrank from repudiating the claims of his son. It is true, that +nothing could be feebler than their reasons; for nothing could be more +evident than the treason of James to the oath which he had sworn at his +coronation. Its violation was his virtual dethronement—his abdication +was his actual dethronement; and the principles of his family, all +Papists like himself, rendered it impossible to possess freedom of +conscience, while any one of a race of bigots and tyrants retained the +power to oppress. Thus the nation only vindicated itself, and used only +the common rights of selfdefence; and used them only in the calm and +deliberate forms of self-preservation. + +This strong abhorrence of the exiled family arose alike from a sense of +religion, and a sense of fear. The people had seen with disgust and +disdain the persecution of Protestantism by the French King. They had +seen the scandalous treachery which had broken all compacts, the +ostentatious falsehood which had trafficked in promises, and the +remorseless cruelty which had strewed the Protestant provinces with +dead. The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes gave a sanguinary and +perpetual caution “not to put their trust in princes;” and the generous +spirit of the people, doubly excited by scorn for the persecutor, and +pity for his victims, was thenceforth armed in panoply alike against the +arts and the menaces of Jacobitism and Popery. So it has been, and so +may it ever be. The Stuarts have passed away—they mouldered from the +sight of men; they have no more place or name on earth; they have been +sunk in the mire of their monkism; their “drowned honour” is incapable +of being plucked up even “by the locks;” but their principles survive, +and against their corruption we must guard the very air we breathe. + +The Electress, a woman of remarkable intelligence, died in 1714, in her +84th year. The Queen died in the August following. George I., Elector of +Brunswick, son of Sophia, arrived in England in September, and was King +of the fairest empire in the world. He was then fifty-four years old. + +The habits of George I. were Continental—a phrase which implies all of +laxity that is consistent with the etiquette of a court. His personal +reign was anxious, troubled, and toilsome; but the nation prospered, and +the era had evidently arrived when the character of the sitter on the +throne had ceased to attract the interest, or influence the conduct of +the nation. The King had no taste for the fine arts: he had no knowledge +of literature. He had served in the army, like all the German princes, +but had served without distinction. He loved Hanoverian life, and he was +incapable of enjoying the life of England. He lived long enough to be +easily forgotten, and died of apoplexy on his _way to Hanover_! + +George II., the chief object of these Memoirs, only son of George I. and +Sophia Dorothea, was forty-four at his accession. In 1705 he had married +Caroline, daughter of the Margrave of Brandenburg Anspach. + +The reign of George II. was the era of another revolution—the supremacy +of ministers. A succession of ambitious and able men governed the +country by parties. The King was intelligent and active, yet they +controlled him, until he found his chief task to be limited to +obedience. He was singularly fond of power, and openly jealous of +authority, but his successive ministers were the virtual masters of the +crown. His chief vexations arose from their struggles for office; and +his only compensation to his injured feelings was, in dismissing one +cabinet, to find himself shackled by another. He seems to have lived in +a state of constant ebullition with the world—speaking sarcastically of +every leading person of his own society, and on harsh terms with his +family. His personal habits were incapable of being praised, even by +flattery, and the names of the Walmodens, the Deloraines, and the +Howards, still startle the graver sensibilities of our time. + +But his public conduct forms a striking contrast to those painful +scenes. He was bold in conception and diligent in business. He felt the +honour of being an English king; and though he wasted time and +popularity in his childish habit of making his escape to Hanover +whenever he could, he offered no wilful offence to the feelings of the +people. His letters on public affairs exhibit strong sense, and he had +the wisdom to leave his finance in the hands of Walpole, and the +manliness to suffer himself to be afterwards eclipsed by the lustre of +Chatham. His reign, which had begun in difficulties, and was carried on +in perils, closed in triumph.—The French navy was swept from the ocean; +the battle of the Heights of Abraham gave him Canada; the battle of +Plassy gave him India; and at his death, in 1760, at the age of +seventy-seven, he left England in a blaze of glory. + +The death of George I. had brought Walpole forward as the minister of +his son. The story of Sir Spencer Compton has been often told, but never +so well as in these Memoirs. The King died on the 11th of June 1727 at +Osnaburg. The news reached Walpole on the 14th, at his villa in Chelsea. +He immediately went to Richmond to acquaint the Prince of Wales with +this momentous intelligence. The Prince was asleep after dinner, +according to his custom; but he was awakened for the intelligence, which +he appeared to receive with surprise. Yet, neither the sense of his +being raised to a throne, nor the natural feelings of such an occasion, +prevented the exhibition of his dislike to Walpole. On being asked, when +it was his pleasure that the Council should be summoned, the King’s +abrupt answer was, “Go to Chiswick, and take your directions from Sir +Spencer Compton.” Sir Robert bore this ill-usage with his habitual +philosophy, and went to Compton at once. There he acted with his usual +address; told him that he was minister, and requested his protection; +declaring that he had no desire for power or business, but wished to +have one of the “white sticks,” as a mark that he was still under the +shelter of the crown. + +Lord Hervey delights in portraiture, and his portraits generally have a +bitter reality, which at once proves the truth of the likeness and the +severity of the artist. He daguerreotypes all his generation. He thus +describes Sir Spencer: “He was a plodding, heavy fellow, with great +application but no talents; with vast complaisance for a court; always +more concerned for the manner of the thing than for the thing itself; +fitter for a clerk to a minister than for a minister to a prince. His +only pleasures were money and eating; his only knowledge forms and +precedents; and his only insinuation bows and smiles.” Walpole and he +went together to the Duke of Devonshire, President of the Council, but +laid up with the gout. Lord Hervey’s sketch of him is certainly not +flattering—but such is the price paid by personal feebleness for public +station—“He was more able as a virtuoso than a statesman, and a much +better jockey than a politician.” + +At the council Sir Spencer took Walpole aside, and begged of him, as a +speech would be necessary for the King in Council, that, as Sir Robert +was more accustomed to that sort of composition than himself, he should +go into another room, and make a draft of the speech. Sir Robert retired +to draw up his paper, and Sir Spencer went to Leicester Fields, where +the King and Queen were already, followed by all who had any thing to +ask, or any thing to hope—a definition which seems to have included the +whole of what, in later parlance, are called the fashionable world. +Whether the present sincerity of court life is purer than of old may be +doubtful, but the older manners were certainly the more barefaced. When +the new premier was returning to his coach he walked through a lane of +“bowers,” all shouldering each other to pay adoration to the new idol. + +During the four days of the King’s remaining in town, Leicester House, +which used to be a desert, was “thronged from morning till night, like +the ‘Change at noon.’” But Walpole walked through those rooms “as if +they had been empty.” The same people who were officiously, a-week +before, crowding the way to flatter his prosperity, were now getting out +of it to avoid sharing his disgrace. Horace Walpole says, that his +mother could not make her way to pay her respects to the King and Queen +between the scornful backs and elbows of her late devotees, nor could +approach nearer to the Queen than the third or fourth row, until the +Queen cried out,—“There, I am sure I see a friend.” The torrent then +divided, and shrank to either side. In short, Walpole, with his brother +Horace, ambassador to France, the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Townshend, +the two Secretaries of State, were all conceived to be as much undone, +as a pasha on the arrival of the janizary with the bowstring. + +The evidences, it must be owned, seemed remarkably strong. The King had +openly, and more than once, called Walpole “rogue and rascal;” he had +called the ambassador “a scoundrel and a fool;” he had declared his +utter contempt for the Duke, and his determination never to forgive him. +Townshend fared still worse. The King looked on him to be no more an +honest man than an able minister, and attributed all the confusion in +foreign affairs to the heat of his temper and his scanty genius, to the +strength of his passions and the weakness of his understanding. There +can be no doubt that a minister of foreign affairs, with those +qualities, might become a very mischievous animal. + +On Compton’s receiving the speech drawn up by Walpole, he carried it, in +his own handwriting, to the King. The King objected to a paragraph, +which Sir Spencer Compton was either unwilling or unable to amend; and +not being satisfied of his own powers of persuasion, he actually +solicited Walpole to go to the King, and persuade him to leave it as it +was! The Queen, who was the friend of Walpole, instantly took advantage +of this singular acknowledgment of inferiority, and advised the King to +retain the man whom his intended successor so clearly acknowledged to be +his superior. + +Nothing can be more evident than that Sir Spencer played the fool +egregiously. To place a rival in immediate communication with the King +was, at least, an unusual way of supplanting him; while, to give him the +advantage of his authorship, by sending him to explain it to the King, +would have been ridiculous under any circumstances. But there are no +miracles in politics; and he was evidently so far convinced of his own +security, that the idea of a rival was out of the question. Compton had +been all his life a political personage. He had been Paymaster; he had +been Speaker in three Parliaments; he was _au fait_ in the routine of +office; and he had evidently received the King’s order to make a +ministry. But we have had such sufficient proof in our own time that +princes and kings are different persons according to circumstances, that +we can perfectly comprehend the cessation of the royal favouritism on +one side, and of the royal aversion on the other. The civil list was +still to be voted—the subject dearest to the royal heart. Walpole was +noted for financial management, and Compton’s awkwardness in the +preceding transaction might well have startled the monarch. The general +result was, that Walpole remained minister, Compton was quietly put out +of the way with a peerage, as Lord Wilmington, and an enormous civil +list was carried, with but a single vote, that of Mr William Shippen, +against it. The civil list was little less than £900,000 a-year, an +immense revenue, when we consider that the value of money at that time +probably made it equal to double the sum now. The present civil list +would be practically not much more than a fourth of the amount in 1777. +The Queen’s jointure was equally exorbitant; it was £100,000 a-year, +besides Somerset House and Richmond Lodge, a sum amounting to double +what any Queen of England had before. + +Walpole was now paramount; he had purchased his supremacy by his +official prodigality. Lord Hervey thinks that he was still hurt by two +mortifications—the displacement of his son-in-law, Lord Malpas, and of +Sir William Yonge, a Lord of the Treasury, and his notorious tool. But, +contrasting those trifling changes with the plenitude of Walpole’s +power, and recollecting the extraordinary wiliness of his nature, it +seems not improbable that he either counselled or countenanced those +dismissals, to escape the invidiousness of absolute power; for both +Malpas and Yonge clung to the court, and, after a decent interval, were +replaced in office. Walpole was, perhaps, one of the most singular +instances of personal dexterity in the annals of statesmanship. Without +eloquence in the House, or character out of it; without manners in the +court, or virtue any where, he continued to hold supreme ministerial +power for nearly a quarter of a century, under the most jealous of +kings, with the weakest of cabinets, against the most powerful +Opposition, and in the midst of the most contemptuous people. His power +seems even to have grown out of those sinister elements. By constantly +balancing them against each other, by at once awaking fears and exciting +hopes, he deluded all the fools, and enlisted all the knaves of public +life in his cause. The permanency of his office, however, wholly rested +upon the Queen; and he had the dexterity to discover, from the moment of +the Royal accession, that, insulted as she was by the King’s conduct, +she was the true source of ministerial power. He accordingly adhered to +her, in all the fluctuations of the court, appeared to consult her on +all occasions, studied her opinions, and provided for her expenses. The +want of money, or its possession, seem to have exerted an extraordinary +influence on the higher ranks in those days; and one of the first acts +of Walpole was to offer the Queen £60,000 a-year. Sir Spencer Compton +had been impolitic enough to propose but £40,000, on the ground that +this sum had been sufficient for Charles II.’s queen. The sum was at +last settled at £50,000, and the donor was not forgotten. + +But it seems impossible to doubt, that Walpole’s character was +essentially corrupt; that he regarded corruption as a legitimate source +of power; that he bribed every man whom he had the opportunity to bribe: +that he laughed at political integrity, and did his best to extinguish +the little that existed; that no minister ever went further to degrade +the character of public life; and that the period of his supremacy is a +general blot upon the reign, the time, and the people. + +The celebrated Burke, in that magnanimous partiality which disposed him +to overlook the vices of individuals in the effect of their measures, +has given a high-flown panegyric on the administration of Walpole; but +the whole is a brilliant paradox. He looked only to the strength of the +Brunswick succession, and, taking his stand upon that height, from which +he surveyed grand results alone, neglected or disdained to examine into +the repulsive detail. Seeing before him a national harvest of peace and +plenty, he never condescended to look to the gross and offensive +material by which the furrow was fertilised. Nothing is more certain, +than that the daily acts of Walpole would now stamp a ministry with +shame—that no man would dare now to express the sentiments which form +the maxims of the minister; and that any one of the acts which, though +they passed with many a sneer, yet passed with practical impunity, in +the days of George II., would have ruined the proudest individual, and +extinguished the most powerful cabinet, of the last fifty years. + +The arguments which Lord Hervey puts into the lips of the Queen are +scarcely less corrupt in another style. She tells the King not merely +that Walpole’s long experience and known abilities would make him the +best minister, but that his simply being in power would make him the +most submissive—that his having made a vast fortune already would make +him less solicitous about his own interest—that _new_ leeches would be +more hungry, and that, Walpole’s fortune being made, he would have +nothing in view but serving the King, and securing the government, to +keep what he had got—closing all this grave advice with that maxim of +consummate craft, that in royal breasts both enmity and friendship alike +should always give way to policy. If such were to be regarded as the +habitual rules of the highest rank, well might we remonstrate against +their baseness. The bigotry of James, or the morals of Charles II., +would be preferable to this scandalous selfishness. But those maxims +have never found tolerance among the people of England. We are to +recollect that they came from a despotic soil, that they were the wisdom +of courts where the great corrective of state-craft, public opinion, was +unknown; that they were the courage of the timid, and the integrity of +the intriguing; and that the maxims, the manners, and the system, have +alike been long since consigned to a deserved and contemptuous oblivion. + +By much the best part of Lord Hervey’s authorship consists in his +characters of public personages. No rank is suffered to shield any man. +He exercises a sort of Egyptian judgment even upon kings, and pronounces +sentence upon their faults with all the indignation of posthumous +virtue. The King of France at that period had begun to exercise a +powerful influence over Europe. France, always liable to great changes, +had been for half a century almost prostrated before the great powers of +Europe. The triumphs of Marlborough in the earliest years of the century +had swept her armies from the field, as the close of the preceding +century had desolated the industry of her southern provinces by +persecution. The supremacy of the Regent had subsequently dissolved +almost the whole remaining force of public character in a flood of +profligacy, and the reigning King was perhaps the most profligate man in +the most licentious nation of the world. The description of him in these +volumes is equally disdainful and true. “I cannot,” says Lord Hervey, +“by the best accounts I have had, and by what I have myself seen of this +insensible piece of royalty, venture absolutely to say that he was of a +good or bad disposition, for, more properly speaking, he was of no +disposition at all. He was neither merciful nor cruel, without affection +or enmity, without gratitude or resentment, and, to all appearance, +without pleasure or pain.” His actions are described as resembling more +the mechanical movements of an automaton, than the effects of will and +reason. The state of his mind seemed to be a complete apathy, neither +acting nor acted on. If he had any passion, it was avarice; and if he +took pleasure in any amusement, it was in gaming. It is observed that he +had not any share in the “epidemical gaiety that runs through the French +nation.” He appeared to take as little pleasure as he gave, to live to +as little purpose to himself as to any body else, and to have no more +joy in being King, than his people had advantage in being his subjects. + +It was the good fortune of France to be governed at this period by +Cardinal Fleury, a man of no distinction for talents, yet possessing a +plain, practical understanding, habitual prudence, and personal honesty. +But his most important qualification was a remarkable absence of the +passion for disturbing the world, which seems to have made him an +exception to all Frenchmen since the days of Julius Cæsar. Fleury loved +peace, and was so far an illustrious anomaly in French nature. Something +of this singular contradiction to his countrymen may have arisen from +his being eighty years old, from his habits as an ecclesiastic, and from +his being fully acquainted with the fact, that France had not the power +to go to war. The result of this policy was not merely tranquillising to +Europe, but fortunate for France. Her task was to recover from the +wasteful wars of Louis XIV., from the general corruption of the Regency, +from the financial follies of the Mississippi scheme, and from the weak +and rapacious ministry of the Duke of Bourbon. The administration of +Cardinal Fleury met all her evils, and met them with patience, and thus +with success. France has been always the great disturber of Europe, and +will be so whenever she has the power to disturb; but the old Cardinal, +conscious of her helplessness, applied himself to restrain her ambition, +and taught her that the indulgence of vanity was no compensation for +defeat, and that war was folly, at least until success was possible. +Under this rational course of government, the public mind was turned to +intellectual advancement and national industry. Paris, instead of being +the centre of European profligacy, rapidly became the centre of European +science. A succession of extraordinary men threw light upon every +kingdom of nature and knowledge. The Continent actually basked in the +beams of France; her language became universal, her literature the +general model, her taste the leader of European refinement, her manners +the standard of fashion to the world; and, at the accession of the +unfortunate Louis XVI., Paris, the court, and the people, possessed an +acknowledged supremacy over the opinions, the habits, and the +accomplishments of Europe, to which no kingdom of the modern world has +ever exhibited a parallel. + +The closing period of the eighteenth century has already been given to +the world by a historian equal to the magnitude of his subject. The +“History of the French Revolution,” by Alison, will never be superseded. +The extent of its information, the clearness of its details, the +freshness and fidelity of its descriptions, and the force and vividness +of its language, place it at the head of all contemporary annals. But we +should wish also to see a History of the whole preceding portion of the +century. The French Revolution was a result: we should desire to see the +origin. It was a burst of gigantic violence, and gigantic strength: we +should desire to have the primal _myth_ of this assault of the Titans; +the narrative of their growth, their passions, and their powers, until +the moment when they moved against the battlements of all that was +lofty, magnificent, and glittering in the land. There is nothing without +a cause on earth,—accident is a name which has no place in the +Providential supremacy of things. To investigate the sources of even the +common events of nature, is a subject worthy of the philosopher. But +there never was a time when it was more important to connect its +mightier changes with the mystery in which they find their birth; to +ascertain the laws of national convulsion; to fix the theory of moral +storms and inundations. Such would be among the highest services, as +they might administer to the most effective security of the social +system. + +It strikes us, that our chief historians have hitherto limited their +view too much to England: a broader view would have been more +productive. The combinations of this great country with the Continental +kingdoms; the contrasts furnished by them all; the variety in their +means of working out the same object of national power; their +comparative tardiness; even their failures, would have supplied new +conceptions of history, and have added alike to the illustration and the +interest of that political science which is among the noblest bequests +of a great nation to posterity. We are fully convinced that politics, +rightly examined, will be found to constitute a _system_, as much as +astronomy, and that a _solitary_ kingdom would be as much a +contradiction to nature as a solitary star. + + +We now glance over the pages of these volumes: they are very amusing. If +they do not give the court _costumes_ of a hundred years ago, they give +the mental costumes. The witty and the wise, the great and the little, +pass before the eye with the rapidity and the oddity of the figures in a +show-box. Kings, queens, and courtiers are exhibited to the life; and, +harsh as their physiognomies may sometimes seem, the exhibition is +always amusing. + +The King was generally regarded as being governed by his wife, and the +opinion was not the less general because the King constantly boasted of +his own independence. One day, alluding to this subject, he said, +“Charles I. was governed by his wife, Charles II. by his mistresses, +James by his priests, William by his men-favourites, and Anne by her +women-favourites.” He then turned with a significant and satisfied air, +and asked, “Who do they say governs now?” The political squibs of the +time were, however, of a different opinion from the King. For example— + + “You may strut, dapper George, but ‘twill all be in vain, + We know ’tis Queen Caroline, not you, that reign— + You govern no more than Don Philip of Spain. + Then, if you would have us fall down and adore you, + Lock up your fat spouse, as your dad did before you.” + +The “dapper” was an allusion to the King’s figure, which was much under +size. The locking up was an allusion to the imprisonment of the wife of +George I., whom, by an atrocious act of cruelty, he had shut up in one +of his castles for thirty-two years. It argues something in favour of +the progress of public opinion, that in our day the most despotic or +powerful sovereign of Europe would not dare to commit an act, which was +then committed with perfect impunity by a little German Elector. Another +of those squibs began— + + “Since England was England there never was seen + So strutting a King, and so prating a Queen.” + +The first of those brought Lord Scarborough into a formidable scrape; +for, being taxed by the King with having seen it, evidently in private, +the King demanded to know who had shown it to him. Scarborough declared +that he was on his honour, not to reveal it. On this the King became +furious, and said to him, “Had I been Lord Scarborough in this +situation, and you king, the man should have shot me, or I him, who had +dared to affront me in the person of my master, by showing me such +insolent nonsense!” His Lordship replied, that he never told his Majesty +it was a man from whom he had it. He consequently left the King, (who +never spoke to him for three months after,) almost as much irritated +against him as the author. + +Lord Hervey’s portrait of the celebrated Chesterfield is a work of +elaborate peevishness. It has all the marks of an angry rival, and all +the caricature of a pen dipped in personal mortification. He allows him +wit, but with an utter “mismanagement in its use;” talent without +common-sense, and a ridiculous propensity to love-making, with an +ungainly face and a repulsive figure. This character is new to those who +have been so long accustomed to regard Chesterfield even on the more +unfavourable side of his character. To his admirers the portrait is of +course intolerable; but we must leave some future biographer to settle +those matters with the ghost of his libeller. + +An anecdote is given illustrative of the violence of Lord Townshend’s +temper, and the cutting calmness of Walpole’s. Townshend was a man of +considerable powers, but singularly irritable. He had been from an early +period engaged in office, and was a constant debater in the House. His +temper, however, made him so publicly disliked, and his selfishness so +much alienated public men, that when he left office he did not leave a +regret behind. He was followed only by epigrams, of which one is given— + + “With such a head, and such a heart, + If fortune fails to take thy part, + And long continues thus unkind, + She must be deaf as well as blind, + And, quite reversing every rule, + Nor see the knave, nor hear the fool.” + +Lord Townshend had been Foreign Secretary, and Walpole had to defend his +blunders in the Commons. This made the latter anxious, and the former +jealous. Another source of discontent was added, probably with still +greater effect. Walpole, who had begun as a subordinate to Townshend, +had risen above him. He had begun poor, and now exceeded him in fortune; +and, as the last offence, he had built Houghton, a much handsomer +mansion than Lord Townshend’s house at Raynham, which his lordship had +once considered as the boast of Norfolk. Thus both were in a condition +for perpetual squabble. The anecdote to which we have alluded was +this:—One evening, at Windsor, on the Queen’s asking Walpole and +Townshend where they had dined that day, the latter said that he had +dined at home with Lord and Lady Trevor; on which Walpole said to her +Majesty, smiling, “My lord, Madam, I think, is grown _coquet_ from a +long widowhood, and has some design upon my Lady Trevor; for his +assiduity of late, in that family, is grown so much beyond common +civility, that without this solution I know not how to account for it.” +The burlesque of this not very decorous observation was obvious, for +Lady Trevor was nearly seventy years old, and, besides being a woman of +character, was of the “most forbidding countenance that natural +ugliness, age, and small-pox, ever compounded.” + +But Townshend, affecting to take the remark literally, replied with +great warmth—“No, sir, I am not one of those fine gentlemen who find no +time of life, nor any station in the world, preservatives against +follies and immoralities that are hardly excusable when youth and +idleness make us most liable,” &c., &c. In short, his lordship made a +speech in which his voice trembled, and every limb shook with passion. +But Walpole, always master of his temper, made him no other answer than +asking him with a smile, and in a very mild tone of voice, “What, my +lord, all this for Lady Trevor!” + +The Queen grew uneasy, and, to avoid Townshend’s replying, only laughed, +and turned the conversation. + +An anecdote is told of the Duchess of Queensberry’s being forbid the +court; which belongs to the literary history of the cleverest opera in +our own or any other language—Gay’s famous production. Walpole, justly +regarding himself as caricatured in the “Beggar’s Opera,” obtained the +Duke of Grafton’s authority as Lord Chamberlain to suppress the +representation of his next opera, “Polly.” Gay resolved to publish it by +subscription, and his patroness, the Duchess of Queensberry, put herself +at the head of the undertaking, and solicited every person she met, to +subscribe. As the Duchess was handsome, a wit, and of the first fashion, +she obtained guineas in all directions, even from those who dreaded to +encourage this act of defiance. The Duchess’s zeal, however, increased +with her success; and she even came to the drawing-room, and under the +very eye of majesty solicited subscriptions for a play which the monarch +had forbidden to be acted. When the King came into the drawing-room, +seeing the Duchess very busy in a corner with three or four persons, he +asked her what she was doing. She answered, “What must be agreeable, she +was sure, to any body so humane as his Majesty, for it was an act of +charity; and a charity to which she did not despair of bringing his +Majesty to contribute.” This proceeding was so much resented, that Mr +Stanhope, vice-chamberlain to the King, was sent in form to the Duchess +to forbid her coming to court. The message was verbal; but she desired +to send a written answer—wrote it on the spot—and thus furnished a +document, whose style certainly exhibited more sincerity than +courtiership. + +“That the Duchess of Queensberry is surprised and well pleased that the +King has given her so agreeable a command as to stay from court, where +she never came for diversion, but to bestow a great civility on the King +and Queen. She hopes that, by such an unprecedented order as this, the +King will see as few as he wishes at his court, particularly such as +dare to think or speak truth. I dare not do otherwise, and ought not, +nor could have imagined that it would not have been the very highest +compliment I could possibly pay the King, to endeavour to support truth +and innocence in his house—particularly when the King and Queen both +told me that they had not read Mr Gay’s play. I have certainly done +right, then, to stand by my own words rather than his Grace of +Grafton’s, who hath neither made use of truth, judgment, nor honour, +through this whole affair, either for himself or his friends. + + “C. QUEENSBERRY.” + +When her Grace had finished this paper, drawn up, as Lord Hervey +observes, “with more spirit than accuracy,” Stanhope requested of her to +think again, and give him a more courtly message to deliver. The Duchess +took her pen and wrote another, but it was so much more disrespectful, +that he asked for the former one and delivered it. + +There was, of course, a prodigious quantity of court gossip on this +occasion: and, doubtless, though some pretended to be shocked, many were +pleased at the sting of royalty, and many more were amused at the +dashing oddity of the Duchess. But public opinion, on the whole, blamed +the court. It certainly was infinitely childish in the King, to have +inquired into what the Duchess was doing among her acquaintances in the +drawing-room; it was equally beneath the natural notions of royal +dignity that the King should put himself in a state of hostility with a +subject, and in so trifling a matter as the subscription to an +unpublished play; and it was equally impolitic, for the world was sure +to range itself on the side of the woman, especially when that woman was +handsome, eccentric, and rich. It produced some inconvenience, however, +to the lady’s husband, as he, in consequence, gave up the office of +Admiral of Scotland. + +The history of the “Beggar’s Opera” is still one of those mysticisms +which perplex the chroniclers of the stage. It has been attributed to +the joint conception of Swift, Pope, and Gay. The original idea probably +belonged to Swift, who, in that fondness for contrasts, and contempt of +romance, which belonged to him in every thing, had observed, “What a +pretty thing a Newgate pastoral would make!” Pope may have given hints +for the epigrammatic pungency of the dialogue; while the general +workmanship may have been left to Gay. It is scarcely possible to doubt +the sharp and worldly hand of Swift in some of the scenes and songs. +Pope may have polished the dialogue, or nerved some of the songs, +otherwise it is difficult to account for the total failure of all those +characters of sternness, sharpness, and knowledge of the world, in Gay’s +subsequent and unassisted drama, “Polly.” For, as the note on the +subject observes, nothing can be more dull and less sarcastic, or, in +fact, less applicable to either public characters or public events than +the latter opera, against which a prime minister levelled the +hostilities of the Lord Chamberlain, and engaged the indignation of the +King. + +Gay had been a dependant on Mrs Howard,—a matter which, in the +scandalous laxity of the time, was by no means disgraceful. He had been +solicitor for some place under the court, and had been disappointed. But +the “Beggar’s Opera” had been written before his disappointment. Of +course, it is unlikely that he should have then thought of burlesquing +the minister. His disappointment, however, may have given him new +intentions, and a few touches from Swift’s powerful hand might have +transformed Macheath, Peachum, and Lockit into the fac-similes of the +premier and his cabinet. It is remarkable that Gay had never attempted +any thing of the kind before, nor after. His solitary muse was the very +emblem of feebleness, his ambition never soared beyond a salary, and his +best authorship was fables. + +As ours is the day when rioting is popular, and rebels in every country +are modellers of government, it may be amusing to remember how those +matters were managed in the last century. The history of the famous +Excise scheme, which in its day convulsed England, and finally shook the +most powerful of all ministers out of the most powerful of all cabinets, +is amongst the curious anecdotes of a time full of eccentricity. Walpole +was no more superior to the effects of prosperity than honester men. +Long success had confirmed him in a belief of its perpetual power; and +the idea that, with a court wholly at his disposal, with a Queen for his +agent, a King almost for his subject, the peerage waiting his nod, and +the commons in his pay, he could be cast down and shattered like a +plaster image, seems never to have entered into his dreams. But in this +plenitude of power, whether to exercise his supremacy, or for the mere +want of something to do, it occurred to him to relieve the country +gentlemen by reducing the land-tax to a shilling in the pound, turning +the duty on tobacco and wine, then payable on importation, into inland +duties,—that is, changing customs on those two commodities into excise. +By which scheme, and the continuation of the salt-duty, he proposed to +improve the revenue half a million a-year, so as to supply the abatement +of the shilling in the pound. The plan seemed feasible, and it also +appeared likely to attract popularity among the country gentlemen, who +had frequently complained of the pressure of the land-tax—two shillings +in the pound. + +The result, however, showed that a man may govern a court who is unequal +to govern a people. The very mention of excise raised a universal +storm,—all kinds of exaggerations flew through the land. The subject, at +no time popular, was converted into a source of frantic indignation. The +orators alleged, that if excise was once to be made a substitute for the +land-tax, it might be made a substitute for every tax; that if it was +laid on wine and tobacco, it would soon be laid on corn and clothing; +that every man’s house would be at the mercy of excise-officers, whose +numbers would amount to a standing army, and of the most obnoxious kind, +an army of tax-gatherers; that liberty must perish; Magna Charta be not +worth its own parchment; parliament be voted useless; and the monarch, +who could extract every shilling from the pockets of his subjects under +the pretext of an excise, might soon ride roughshod over the liberties +of England. Petition on petition, of course, showered into parliament; +the boroughs angrily advised their representatives to vote against the +measure; and the towns and cities haughtily commanded their +parliamentary delegates to resist all extension of the excise, however +qualified, corrected, or modelled by the minister. + +Walpole was thunderstruck; but he still relied upon his fortune. His +friends crowded round him with entreaties that he would abandon the +measure. But his argument was the argument of infatuation—the old +absurdity of exposing himself to immediate ruin, through fear of being +ruined at some future time, which might never arrive. In fact, his +flexibility, which often saves a minister, was suddenly exchanged for +the stubbornness which is the ministerial road to ruin. At last the +memorable day came, March 14, 1743, when the bill was to be presented to +parliament. It was reported that thousands of the people would block up +the House, and there was a general order for constables, peace-officers, +and the Guards to be in readiness. The mob, however, were neither so +numerous nor so unruly as was expected. The debate was long, and the +question was carried for the excise scheme by a majority of 61—the +numbers being 204 and 265. The King was so anxious on the subject, that +he made Lord Hervey write to him from the House at five o’clock; and, +when the debate broke up at one in the morning, and Lord Hervey came to +St James’s to mention the result, the King carried him into the Queen’s +bedchamber, and kept him there till three in the morning, (without +having dined;) asking him ten thousand questions, not merely about the +speeches, but the very looks of the speakers. + +The memoirs of persons in high life have a certain use for those who +will draw the true moral from them; which is, that the highest rank is +by no means the happiest. The exterior glitters to the eye, and +doubtless there are few pedestrians who would not rejoice to drive in a +gilt coach, with a squadron of hussars prancing round them. But the +Memoirs of George II. and his Queen, altogether independently of private +character, give formidable evidence of the cares which haunt even +thrones. Yet, perhaps, there was no more palmy state of public affairs +than that which saw George and Caroline on the throne. The country was +in profound peace, commerce was flourishing, there was no impediment to +the wheels of society—neither famine nor pestilence, nor rebellion; and +yet distress, vexation, and perplexity seem to be as frequent inmates of +the palace as they could have been of the workhouse. Even the great +minister himself, though the head and front of the whole immediate +disturbance, and likely to suffer more severely than all the rest, bore +the crisis with more equanimity than either of their majesties. + +“This evening,” says Lord Hervey, “Sir Robert Walpole saw the King in +the Queen’s apartment, and the final resolution was then taken to drop +the bill; but as there was a petition to come from the city of London +against it the next day, it was resolved that the bill should not be +dropped till that petition was rejected, lest it should be thought to be +done by the weight and power of the city.” Walpole, on coming from this +conference, called on Lord Hervey to let him know what had passed. Sir +Robert was extremely disconcerted. Lord Hervey told him that he had been +twice that afternoon sent for by the King; but, not knowing in what +strain to talk to him, as he was ignorant whether Sir Robert intended to +go forward or retreat, and expecting that he should be asked millions of +questions relating to what he saw, and what he heard, and what he +thought; to avoid the difficulties which this catechism would lay him +under, he kept out of the way. + +In the mean time, Sir Robert had gone to the Queen, and told her, that +the clamour had grown so great, that there were but two ways of trying +to appease it, one by dropping the project, and the other by dropping +the projector. The Queen chid him extremely “for thinking it possible +she could act so cowardly a part.” When Lord Hervey went up to the +drawing-room, he saw that her Majesty had been weeping very plentifully, +and found her so little able to disguise what she felt, that she was +forced to pretend headach and vapours, and break up her quadrille party +sooner than the usual hour. When the drawing-room was over, the King +called Lord Hervey into the Queen’s bedchamber, and began with great +eagerness to ask him where he had been all day, whom he had seen, what +he had heard, and how both friends and foes looked? To some of the +replies, referring to the Opposition, the King said with great warmth, +“It is a lie; those rascals in the Opposition are the greatest liars +that ever spoke.” The city petition was presented the next morning, and +attended by a train of coaches reaching from Temple Bar to Westminster. +The prayer of the petition was, that they might be heard by counsel +against the bill. After a debate till midnight the petition was +rejected, but only by a majority of seventeen—214 to 197. Walpole was +never more deeply smitten than by this defeat, for so small a majority +was a virtual defeat. He stood for some time after the House was up, +leaning against the table, with his hat pulled over his eyes, and some +few friends, with melancholy countenances, round him. As soon as the +whole was over, Pelham went to the King, and Hervey to the Queen, to +acquaint them with what had passed. When Hervey, at his first coming +into the room, shook his head and told her the numbers, the tears ran +down her cheeks, and for some time she could not utter a word. At last +she said, “It is over—we must give way; but pray tell me a little how it +passed.” + +On the next day, Walpole proposed the postponement of the tobacco bill +for two months. On coming out of the House, the mob, who had increased +in numbers, continued to insult the members. Walpole, though warned of +the reception which he was likely to get, determined to face the mob, as +he boldly said, “there was no end of flying from their menaces, and that +meeting dangers of this kind was the only way to put an end to them.” +With some friends, and to a certain degree protected by the constables, +who made a passage for the members to go out, he at last worked his way +through the mob; though there was a great deal of jostling, and the +constables were obliged to make large use of their staves. Three of his +friends (among whom was Lord Hervey) were hurt. The city had been filled +with illuminations and bonfires the night before, when Sir Robert +Walpole, with a fat woman, (meant for the Queen,) was burnt in effigy. +It is singular that this triumph was carried as far as Oxford, where for +three nights together, round the bonfires in the streets, the healths of +Ormond, Bolingbroke, and James III. were publicly drunk! + +Lord Hervey’s sketches of character are among the best specimens of his +writing, and the most interesting portions of his book. They are always +acute and forcible, natural though epigrammatic, and remorseless though +polished. As the lives of Chancellors have been, of late, so frequently +brought before the public, we give his sketch of Lord Chancellor King. +Speaking of King as having risen from obscurity to the woolsack, without +an obstruction in his career, and with the general approbation of all +judges of legal merit, he observes that, from the moment of his +presiding in Chancery, his reputation began to sink. But this is +explained, not by any newly discovered deficiency of talent, but by +deficiency of decision. “Expedition,” says Lord Hervey, “was never +reckoned among the merits of the Court of Chancery; but while Lord King +presided there, its delays became insupportable. He had such a +diffidence of himself, that he dared not do right for fear of doing +wrong. Decrees were always extorted from him; and, had he been left +alone, he would never have given any suitor his due, for fear of giving +him what was not so; never reflecting that the suspension of justice was +almost as bad as the total privation of it. His understanding was of +that balancing irregular kind, which gives people just light enough to +see difficulties and form doubts, yet not enough to surmount the one, or +remove the other. This sort of understanding, which was of use to him as +a pleader, was a trouble to him as a judge, and made him make a great +figure at the bar, but an indifferent one upon the bench. The Queen once +said of him, very truly, as well as agreeably, that ‘he was just in the +law, what he had formerly been in the gospel—making creeds of the one, +without any steady belief, and judgments in the other, without any +settled opinion. But the misfortune,’ said she, ‘for the public is, that +though they can reject his silly creeds, they are forced to submit to +his silly judgments.’” (Lord King had dabbled in divinity, and published +a history of the Apostles’ Creed.) Complaints soon arose, that all the +equity of the nation was at a stand. He afterwards nearly lost his +senses by repeated attacks of apoplexy. He was at last induced to retire +on a pension of £3000. He died in the next year, “little regretted by +any body, but least of all by his Majesty, who saved £3000 a-year by +it.” + +The condition of the court seems to have been perpetual conflict. The +King’s personal conduct was inexcusable; the Queen’s great object was +the possession of power; and the Prince was an object of suspicion to +both, as both were objects of vexation to the Prince. His case in short +was this: “He had a father that abhorred him, a mother that despised +him, sisters that betrayed him, a brother set up against him, and a set +of servants that neglected him, and were neither of use to him, nor +capable of being of use, nor desirous of being of use.” + +The Opposition were in pretty much the same condition: they, too, were +in a state of civil war. Lord Carteret and Bolingbroke had no +correspondence at all; Pulteney and Bolingbroke hated each other; +Carteret and Pulteney were jealous of each other; Sir William Wyndham +and Pulteney the same; while Chesterfield had a little correspondence +with them all, but was confided in by none. + +The Princess’s marriage to the Prince of Orange had long engrossed the +consideration of the court. The Princess was not ill-looking, but her +figure was short, and inclined to be fat. She seems to have resembled +both the King and the Queen in their better, and in their worst, +qualities. She was quick, intelligent, and passionate; yet could be +cool, callous, and ready to sacrifice every thing to power. The Prince +of Orange was poor, having but £12,000 a-year, and he was deformed, +having a humpback, and altogether exhibiting the least attractive object +possible in the eyes of a princess as haughty as any in Christendom. The +marriage was solemnised at seven in the evening: the chapel was +splendidly fitted up; but the Queen and the Princesses exhibited so much +undisguised concern, that the procession to the chapel, and the aspect +of matters there, looked more like a sacrifice than a marriage. We +cannot go any further into details which, however suitable to foreign +manners, can only disgust the fortunate delicacy of the English mind. +But Lord Hervey’s manner of consoling the philosophic Queen in her +disdain and disgust, is capital, as a specimen at once of the man of the +world and of the courtier. + +His answer was, “Madam, in half a year all persons are alike; and the +figure one is married to, like the prospect of the place one lives at, +grows so familiar to one’s eyes, that we look at it mechanically, +without regarding either the beauties or deformities that strike a +stranger.” The Queen’s answer was clever: “One may, and I believe one +does, grow blind at last; but you must allow, my dear Lord Hervey, that +there is a great difference, as long as one sees, in the _manner_ of +one’s growing blind.” The sisters spoke much in the same style as the +mother, with horror at his figure, and commiseration for his wife. The +Princess Emily said, “nothing on earth should have induced her to marry +the monster.” The Princess Caroline, in her soft sensible way, spoke +truth and said, “She must own it was very bad, but that, in her sister’s +situation, all things considered, she believed she should have come to +the same resolution.” + +From time to time, some traits of men and history oddly remind us of +foreign courts in our own day. The Emperor of Germany, a personage in +whom ambition and imbecility seem to have contended for the mastery, had +commenced a war, which transferred hostilities into Italy. France, +Sardinia, and Spain attacked him there, and pushed his army to the walls +of Mantua. The position of Radetsky, while he continued constrained by a +court which gave him little more than orders and counter-orders, was +evidently the _fac-simile_ of Austrian affairs in 1733. “Those affairs,” +says Lord Hervey, “were so _well managed_, that with thirteen thousand +men in Lombardy, and provisions for double the number, and ammunition in +proportion, those essentials of war were so dispersed and scattered, +that, wherever there were provisions there was no ammunition, and where +there was ammunition there were no provisions, and where there were men +there was neither ammunition nor provisions.” + +The German war engaged a good deal of the public attention at this time; +but much less in the nation than at the court. Prince Eugene, on the +Rhine, marched to the relief of Philipsburg, while Marshal Berwick, with +one hundred thousand men, carried on the siege. The high reputation of +Prince Eugene had excited the King’s hope that Philipsburg would be +relieved. It was, however, taken. This gave rise to a smart saying of +the Princess Royal. She observed to Lord Hervey, after the drawing-room, +shrugging up her shoulders, “Was there ever any thing so unaccountable +as the temper of papa! He has been snapping and snubbing every mortal +for this week, because he began to think that Philipsburg would be +taken; and this very day, that he hears it is actually taken, he is in +as good humour as ever I saw him in my life. But all this seems so odd, +that I am more angry at his good humour than I was at his bad.” Lord +Hervey said, with that sort of wit which was fashionable at the time, +“that this was like David, who, when his child lived wore sackcloth, but +when it was dead, shaved and drank wine.”—“It may be like David,” said +the Princess, “but I am sure it is not like Solomon.” + +The King had a foolish habit of talking of war, of imagining his genius +made for renown, and of pronouncing himself infinitely unlucky in not +being permitted by his minister to gain laurels in Germany. Walpole +exhibited his power in nothing more effectually than in preventing the +operation of this thirst for “glory.”—“He could not bear,” said the +monarch, “that while he was engaged only in treaties, letters, and +despatches, his booby brother, the brutal King of Prussia, should pass +his time in camps and in the midst of arms,” neither desirous of the +glory, nor fit for the employment. + +Walpole, who saw the danger of involving England in this war, and +probably the absurdity of going to war for the sake of any foreigners, +reminded the King of the existence of the Pretender, and of the +probability “that his crown would yet have to be fought for on British +ground.” As to the Queen, Lord Hervey said, “the _shadow_ of the +Pretender would beat the whole German body.” + +His lordship’s knowledge of the world appears to have extinguished all +his ideas of its generosity: for he finds a personal motive in every +thing. Thus, he assigns three reasons for Walpole’s pacific advice. One +was, to avoid new clamour against his administration; the next was, to +avoid the unpopularity of new taxes; and the third was, that military +business might not throw his power into the hands of military men. + +The Memoir then proceeds “to toss and gore” all the prominent public men +in succession. It tells us “that the Duke of Newcastle, who always +talked as his master talked,” echoed all the King’s “big words,” and +expatiated for ever on regaining Italy for the Emperor, chastising +Spain, and humbling the pride of France. Next comes the Duke of Grafton; +of whom it is said, that loving to make his court as well as the Duke of +Newcastle, he talked in the same strain, and for the same reason; but +“could never make any great compliment to the King and Queen of +embracing their opinions, as he never understood things enough to have +one of his own.” Next comes Lord Grantham. “He was a degree still lower, +and had the gift of reasoning in so small a proportion, that his +existence was barely distinguished from a vegetable.” Then follows Lord +Harrington. Of him it is said that, “with all his seeming phlegm, he was +as tenacious of an opinion, when his indolence suffered him to form one, +as any man living. His parts were of the common run of mankind. He was +well bred, a man of honour, and fortunate, loved pleasure, and was +infinitely lazy.” The Queen once in speaking of him said, “There is a +heavy insipid sloth about that man, that puts me out of all patience: he +must have six hours to dress, six more to dine, six more for his +intrigues, and six more to sleep; and there, for a minister, are the +four-and-twenty admirably disposed of; and if, now and then, he borrows +six of those hours, to do any thing relating to his office, it is for +something that might be done in six minutes, and ought to have been done +six days before.” + +We have then another instance of the discomforts of Royalty in those +times. The day before the birthday, October 29, 1734, the court removed +from Kensington to London, and the Queen, “who had long been out of +order with a cough and a little lurking fever, notwithstanding she had +been twice blooded, grew every hour worse and worse. However, the King +forced her, the night she came from Kensington—the first of Farinelli’s +performances—to the Opera, and made her the next day go through all the +tiresome ceremonies of drawing-rooms and balls, the fatigues of heats +and crowds, and every other disagreeable appurtenance to the celebration +of a birthday.” + +His lordship observes that “there was a strange affectation of an +incapacity of being sick, that ran through the whole royal family. I +have known the King to get out of his bed, choking with a sore throat, +and in a high fever, only to dress and have a levee, and, in five +minutes after it, undress and return to his bed, till the same +ridiculous farce of health was to be presented the next day at the same +hour. He used to make the Queen, in like circumstances, commit the same +extravagances; but never with more danger than at this time. In the +morning drawing-room, she found herself so near swooning, that she was +forced to send Lord Grantham to the King, to beg he would retire, for +that she was unable to stand any longer; notwithstanding which, at +night, he brought her into a still greater crowd at the ball, and there +kept her till eleven o’clock.” + +The recollections of those times constantly bring the name of Lady +Suffolk before the eye. We have no wish to advert to the grossnesses +connected with the name; but the waning of her power gave a singular +pungency to opinion in the palace. The Princesses were peculiarly candid +upon the occasion. The Princess Emily “wished Lady Suffolk’s disgrace, +because she wished misfortune to most people. The Princess Caroline, +because she thought it would please her mother. The Princess Royal was +for having her crushed; and, when Lord Hervey made some remonstrance, +she replied, that Lady Suffolk’s conduct, with regard to politics, had +been so impertinent, that she cannot be too ill used.” It must seem +strange to us that such topics should have been in the lips of any +women, especially women of such rank—but they seem to have been +discussed with the most perfect familiarity; and a name and conduct +which ought to have been suppressed through mere delicacy, appear to +have furnished the principal conversation of the court. + +The next affair was the quarrel with the Princess of Orange, from her +reluctance to return to Holland. As she was about to be confined, her +husband was desirous that his child should be born in Holland. To this +the Princess demurred. However, they at length contrived to send her on +board, and she sailed from Harwich; but after she had been some time at +sea, she either grew so ill, or pretended to be so ill, that she either +was, or pretended to be, in convulsions: we give his lordship’s rather +ungallant surmise. On this, and the wind not being quite fair, she +obliged the captain of the yacht to put back to Harwich. She then +despatched a courier to London with letters, written, as it was +supposed, by her own absolute command, from her physician, her +accoucheur, and her nurse, to say that she was disordered with her +expedition, and that she could not be stirred for ten days from her bed, +nor put to sea again, without the hazard of her child’s life and her +own. The King and Queen declined giving any orders. The Prince of Orange +was written to, and he desired that his wife might go by France to +Holland. The King, hating the bustle of a new parting, directed that she +should cross the country from Harwich to Dover; but his Majesty, after +having been informed that the roads were impassable at this time of the +year in a coach, (how strangely this sounds in our day of universal +locomotion!) permitted her to come to London and go over the bridge; but +it was a positive command that she should not lie in in London, nor even +come to St James’s. Accordingly, “after all her tricks and schemes, to +avoid going to Holland, and to get back to London, she was obliged to +comply with those orders; and had the mortification and disgrace to go, +without seeing any of her family, over London Bridge to Dover.” + +A note conjectures, that the Princess Royal might have had some +expectation of ascending the throne of England, neither of her brothers +being then married; a circumstance, which may account for the Princess’s +anxiety to have her child born in this country. + +The next scene is laid among the bishops. The bishopric of Winchester +had been promised to Hoadly. Willis, the Bishop of Winchester, was +seized with an apoplectic fit, and Lord Hervey instantly wrote to +Hoadly, who was then Bishop of Salisbury, to come up to town and enforce +his claim. The bishop wrote to the Queen and Sir Robert letters, which +were to be delivered as soon as Willis was dead. The Queen, on +presenting those letters, asked Lord Hervey if he did not blush for the +conduct of his friend in this early and pressing application for a thing +not yet vacant. While he was speaking, the King came in, and both King +and Queen talked of Hoadly, in such a manner as plainly showed that they +neither esteemed nor loved him. Potter, Bishop of Oxford, a great +favourite of the Queen, strongly solicited Winchester, and would have +obtained it, but for Walpole’s suggestion, that the engagements to +Hoadly could not be broken without scandal. Hoadly at last obtained +Winchester; and, as the Memoir observes, one of the best preferments in +the church was conferred upon a man hated by the King, disliked by the +Queen, and long estranged from the friendship of Walpole. Then all +followed in the way which might have been anticipated; the King not +speaking a word to the new bishop, either when he kissed his hand or did +homage; the Queen, when she found it could not be helped, making the +most of promoting him,—and Sir Robert taking the whole merit of the +promotion to himself. + +Another source of contention now arose. The Chancellor Talbot had +recommended Rundle, a chaplain of his father, the late Bishop of Durham, +for the see of Gloucester, which had been vacant a twelvemonth. Gibson, +Bishop of London, objected to him, that fourteen or fifteen years before +he had been heard to speak disrespectfully of some portions of +Scripture, and Rundle was suspected of Arianism. This reason was +certainly sufficient to justify inquiry. + +Sir Robert, in his usual style, tried to mediate; begged of the +Chancellor to give up his support of Rundle, offering him at the same +time a deanery, or to give him the Bishopric of Derry in Ireland, then +possessed by Henry Downes; of whom the Memoir speaks as a crazy old +fellow with three thousand a-year. This affair ended in Benson’s being +made Bishop of Gloucester, and Secker Bishop of Bristol, both formerly +chaplains to the Chancellor’s father. Rundle was subsequently made +Bishop of Derry, where he died, nine years after, in his sixtieth year, +much regretted. + +Walpole was now visibly approaching decline. He had become negligent of +the claims of his friends, and solicitous only to conciliate his +enemies. Of course, where he bought over one opponent, there were fifty +others ready to fill up his place. This policy failed, and ought always +to fail. At the close of the session, say the Memoirs, “the harvest of +court favour was small, though the labourers were many.” The only things +to give away were the Privy Seal, by the retirement of Lord Lonsdale, +and the Secretaryship at War, by the dismissal of Sir William +Strickland, “who was become so weak in mind and body, that his head was +as much in its second infancy as his limbs.” + +A new source of ministerial vexation was added to the _mêlée_, by the +King’s sudden determination to run over to Hanover, in spite of all +remonstrance—the royal answer being always “Pooh, stuff! You think to +get the better of me, but you shall not.” + +Walpole, who dreaded that the King, once in Hanover, would plunge the +country into a war, tried to set the Queen against this untoward +journey; but her Majesty, though she gave the minister fair words, was +in favour of the freak. The reasons assigned by the Memoir for her +conduct being those rather irreverent ones, on the part of his +lordship—pride in the _éclat_ of the regency; the ease of being mistress +of her hours, which was not the case for two hours together, when the +King was in England; and, “besides these _agrémens_, she had the +certainty of being, for six months at least, not only free from the +fatigue of being obliged to entertain him for twenty hours in the +twenty-four, but also from the more irksome office of being set up to +receive the _quotidian_ sallies of a temper that, let it be charged by +what hand it would, used always to discharge its hottest fire, on some +pretence or other, upon her.” + +But “one trouble arose from the King’s going to Hanover, which her +Majesty did not at all foresee;” and which was his becoming, soon after +his arrival, so much attached to a Madame Walmoden, “a married woman of +the first fashion in Hanover,” that nobody in England talked of any +thing but the declining power of the Queen. + +They might justly have talked much more of the insult of this conduct to +public morals; but we shall not go further into those details. They +absolutely repel the common-sense of propriety, to a degree which, we +hope, will never be endurable in England. The King, however, gave her +Majesty, in the long succession of his correspondence, the complete +history of his passion, its progress, and his final purchase of the lady +for 1000 ducats! A proof, as Lord Hervey says, more of his economy than +his passion. + +The life of courts is stripped of its glitter a good deal by the +indefatigable courtier who has here left us his reminiscences; but it +requires strong evidence, to believe that the persons who constitute the +officials of royal households _can_ submit to the humiliations described +in these volumes. + +The Queen narrates a sort of quarrel which she had with Lady Suffolk, a +woman so notoriously scandalous, that the wife of George II. ought not +to have suffered her to approach her person. The quarrel was, as a note +conceives it, not about holding a basin for the Queen to wash in, but +about holding it on her knees. (What person of any degree of +self-respect can discover the difference?) But Lady Suffolk, on this +nice distinction, consulted the well-known Lady Masham, bedchamber woman +to Queen Anne, as to the point of etiquette. This authority delivered +her judgment of chambermaid duties, in the following style:—“When the +Queen washed her hands, a page of the backstairs brought and set down +upon a side-table the basin and ewer. Then the bedchamber _woman_ set it +before the Queen, and _knelt_ on the other side of the table over +against the Queen, the bedchamber _lady_ only looking on. The bedchamber +_woman_ brought in the chocolate, and gave it _kneeling_.” Lady Suffolk, +formerly Mrs Howard, had been bedchamber _woman_, and of course had +performed this menialism! “We shall see by-and-by,” adds the note, +“that, the _lady_ of the bedchamber, though a countess, presented the +basin for the Queen’s washing, _on her knees_.” + +If such things were done, we must own that it wholly exceeds our +comprehension how they could be exacted on the one side, or submitted to +on the other. We are sure that there is not a scullion in England who +would stoop to hold a basin for her mistress’s ablutions on her knees. +Yet, however we may be surprised at the existence of such practices, it +is impossible to feel the slightest sympathy for the persons whom their +salaries tempt to the sufferance. + +We have left ourselves but little room for the biography of Lord Hervey +himself. He was born in 1696, the second son of the first Lord Bristol. +He travelled; returned to solicit a commission; failed in his +solicitation; became, of course, “a virtuous opponent of the court,” and +attached himself to the Prince and Princess, who held a sort of +Opposition court at Richmond. Hervey, young, handsome, and polished, +became a general favourite. He won the most accomplished woman of her +time; married; and, in 1723, became Lord Hervey by the death of his +elder brother, a man of ability, but of habits remarkably profligate. + +On the death of George I., Hervey changed his politics; abandoned +Pulteney; leveed Walpole; obtained a pension of £1000 a-year; received +another gilded fetter, in the office of vice-chamberlain, and became a +courtier for life. + +Whether to console himself for this showy slavery, or to indulge a +natural taste for the sarcasm which is forbidden in the atmosphere of +high life, he wrote the Memoirs, of which we have given a sketch. The +prudence of his son, the third earl, kept them in secret. The marquis, +nephew of that earl, probably regarding the time as past when they could +provoke private resentment, has suffered them to emerge, and Mr Croker +has edited them, for the benefit of the rising generation. + +Whether the editor has done credit to himself or service to the public, +by this employment of his hours of retirement, has been the subject of +considerable question. That the volumes are amusing there can be no +doubt; that they are flippant and frivolous there can be no question +whatever; that they disclose conceptions of the interior of courts which +may “make the rabble laugh and the judicious grieve,” that, though +filtered through three generations of correctors, they yet remain miry +enough still, requires no further proof than their perusal. + +We say this in no favouritism for either the King or the Queen: the +truth was probably told of both. Their foreign habits evidently clung to +them; and the purer feelings of England, as evidently, had not the power +to purify the practices of their foreign descent. But if Lord Hervey’s +mind was exercised in giving the secret life of courts to the world, we +think that a much more contemptuous subject for the pencil might be +found, in the man who, earning his daily bread by his courtiership, +pretended to independence of opinion; who, listening to every expression +of royalty with a bow, and receiving every command with the submission +of a slave, threw off the sycophant only to assume the satirist, and +revenged his sense of servitude only by privately registering the errors +of those, the dust of whose shoes he licked for twelve hours in every +twenty-four. + +But we must hope that the Memoirs of Lord Hervey will be the last with +which the national curiosity is to be stimulated. We must have no +further ill-natured overflowing on the absurdities of high life. If this +fashion shall invade the shelves and _scrinia_ of noble families, there +is probably not a household of the higher ranks which may not furnish +its tribute. We shall be overrun with feeble gossiping and obsolete +scandal. No rational purpose can be held in view by indulging the +posthumous malice of a discontented slave. No manly curiosity can be +gratified by breaking up the tomb, showing us only the decay so long +hidden by its marbles and escutcheons from the eye.—_Requiescat._ + + + + + THE GREAT TRAGEDIAN. + + + CHAPTER I. + +Amidst a storm of applause the curtain fell. The applause continued, and +the curtain rose once more; and the favourite actor, worn out with +emotion and fatigue, reappeared to receive the homage which an +enthusiastic multitude paid to his genius. + +I saw a proud flush of triumph steal over his wan face, which lighted it +for a moment with almost supernatural expression. As he passed behind +the scenes, amidst the rustling dresses of the rouged and spangled +crowd, I observed his face contracted by a pang, which struck me the +more forcibly from its so quickly succeeding the look of triumph. He +passed on to his room without uttering a word—there to disrobe himself +of the kingly garments in which he had “strutted his brief hour on the +stage;” and in a little while again passed me (as I was hammering out +compliments, in voluble but questionable German, to the pretty +little * * *) in his sober-suited black, and, stepping into his +carriage, drove to the Behren Strasse. + +I knew he was going there, as I had been earnestly pressed to meet him +that very evening; so, collecting all my forces, I uttered the happiest +thing my German would permit me, and accompanying it with my most +killing glance, raised the tiny hand of * * * to my lips and withdrew, +perfectly charmed with her, and perfectly satisfied with myself. + +There was a brilliant circle that night at Madame Röckel’s. To use the +received phrase, “all Berlin was there.” I found Herr Schoenlein, the +great actor, surrounded by admirers, more profuse than delicate in their +adulation. He was pale; looked wearied. He seemed to heed that +admiration so little—and yet, in truth, he needed it so much! Not a +muscle moved—not a smile answered their compliments; he received them as +if he had been a statue which a senseless crowd adored. Yet, fulsome as +the compliments were, they were never too fulsome for his greed. He had +the fever-thirst of praise upon him now more than ever—now more than at +any period of his long career, during which his heart had always +throbbed at every sound of applause, did he crave more and more +applause. That man, seemingly so indifferent, was sick at heart, and +applause alone could cure him! Had he not applause enough? Did not all +Germany acknowledge his greatness? Did not Berlin worship him? True; but +that was not enough: he hungered for more. + +I was taken up to him by Madame Röckel, and introduced as an “English +admirer.” Now, for the first time, he manifested some pleasure. It was +not assuredly _what_ I said—(for although, _of course_, I am always +“mistaken for a German,” so pure is my accent, so correct my +diction!)—it was the fact of my being a foreigner—an Englishman—which +made my praise so acceptable. I was a countryman of Shakspeare’s, and, +of course, a discerning critic of Shakspearian acting. We rapidly passed +over the commonplace bridges of conversation, and were soon engaged in a +discussion respecting the stage. + +With nervous energy, and a sort of feverish irritability, he questioned +me about our great actors—our Young, Kean, Kemble, and Macready—which +gave me an opportunity for displaying that nice critical discrimination +which my friends are kind enough to believe I possess—with what reason +it is not for me to say. + +When I told him that, on the whole, I was more gratified with the +performances of Shakspeare in Germany, he turned upon me with sudden +quickness and asked— + +“In what towns?” + +“At Berlin and Dresden,” I answered. + +“You have seen Franz, then?” + +“I have.” + +His lip quivered. I saw that I had made a mistake. I am not generally an +ass—nay, I am believed to possess some little tact; but what demon could +have possessed me to talk of an actor _to_ an actor? + +“Do you think Franz greater than any of your English actors?” he asked, +fretfully. + +“Why, I cannot say that exactly. But I was amazingly struck with his +performance. My observation, however, principally applied to the general +‘getting-up.’” + +“But Franz—Franz. I wish to hear your opinion of him.” + +“He is young,” I replied; “has a fine figure, a noble voice, a grand +carriage, and, although new to the stage, and consequently deficient in +some technical matters, yet he has that undefinable something which men +call genius.” + +“Hm!” was the significant answer. + +I then saw whither my stupidity had led me. This, however, I will say +for myself, if ever I do get into a dilemma, I have generally readiness +of mind enough to extricate myself. I do not say this out of conceit, +for I am not at all conceited—I merely mention it as a fact. This is how +I turned my blunder to account. + +“Although,” said I, “he has not _your_ mastery, yet he reminded me a +great deal of you. I cannot pay _him_ a higher compliment.” + +To my surprise he did not see the flattery of this, but moved to another +part of the room; and I did not speak with him again till supper. + +This little incident excited my attention. I puzzled my brain for an +explanation of the riddle which his conduct presented, and spoke to +several of my friends about it, who could only tell me that Schoenlein +was jealous of this new actor Franz. + +Did you ever sup in Berlin, reader? If not, let me inform you that +supper there is a most substantial affair. I had not read Miss Bremer’s +novels when first I went there; so, not being prepared for the infinite +amount of eating and drinking which is transacted in the north, I +confess my astonishment was a little mingled with disgust to find a +supper begin with white-beer soup, (capital soup, by the way,) followed +by various kinds of fish, amongst them, of course, that eternal hideous +carp—roast veal, poultry, pastry, and dessert. To see the worthy +Berliners sup, you would fancy they had not dined, and to see them dine +next day, you would fancy they had not supped, and breakfasted _twice_. + +Eating is an art. It is also—and this fact we are prone to overlook—a +habit. As a habit it may be enlarged to an indefinite extent; and +lisping _fraüleins_ have demonstrated the capacity of the human stomach +to be such as would make our beauties stare. + +It must not be supposed that I am a coxcomb, since nothing can be +farther from the truth; nor must I be held to share with Lord Byron his +horror at seeing women eat. In fact I like to see the darlings enjoy +themselves: but—and I care not who knows it—to see German women eat, is +more than I can patiently endure. + +Let me cease this digression to remark that, except myself, the great +tragedian was the only person at table who was not voracious—and that +because he was unhappy. While knives and forks were playing with +reckless energy he talked to me, but there was a coldness and constraint +in his manner which plainly told me that my praises of Franz had deeply +mortified him. + +Poor Schoenlein! Unhappy he came to Madame Röckel’s; for, amidst the +storm of applause which saluted him at the theatre, he heard the +applause which was saluting his rival at Dresden; and he had left the +theatre for a friendly circle of admirers only to hear his rival praised +by an Englishman. All the applause of all Berlin weighed as nothing +against one compliment paid to Franz! + +It was nearly twelve, and the company had gradually departed. I was left +alone with Madame Röckel; and, as usual, I stayed half-an-hour later +than the others, to have a quiet chat with her. I wanted to ask her for +an explanation of Schoenlein’s conduct. Much as I had seen of the vanity +of actors—well as I knew their petty jealousy of each other—I was not +prepared for what I had seen that night. + +Madame Röckel had resumed her knitting—the never-failing accompaniment +of a German lady—and I drew a chair close to the sofa, and told her what +had passed. + +“His story is a strange one,” she said; “and to understand him you must +know it.” + +“Can you not tell it me?” + +“Willingly. Schoenlein is a man well born and well bred, who feels his +profession is a disgrace.” + +“A disgrace!” + +“Very absurd, is it not? but that _is_ his feeling. At the same time, +just as the opium-eater, knowing the degradation of his vice, cannot +resist its fascination—so this actor, with an intense feeling of what he +regards as the sinfulness of the stage, cannot resist its fascination.” + +“You astonish me!” + +“He is an austere man—what you English would call a puritan—who looks +upon the stage as the theatre of vice, and yet cannot quit it because it +is the theatre of his triumphs!” + +“But how came he to be an actor!” + +“Why, thrown upon the stage when the stage seemed the only means of +livelihood open to him—forced on it by necessity, success has chained +him there. I have heard him say that every time he performs it is with +the conviction that he is performing for the last time. But the +fascination still continues—his heart is still greedy of applause—his +mind still eager for its accustomed emotions. He goes on the stage sad, +struggling, and repentant; to leave it with throbbing pulses and a +wild-beating heart. He accepts no engagement, he only plays by the +night. He has from time to time made vigorous efforts to quit the stage, +but at the end of a fortnight he invariably returns. He once set out for +Italy, thinking that if away from Germany he should be able to wean +himself from the theatre; but he got no farther than Vienna, and there +played for twenty nights.” + +“But don’t you think there must be a great deal of humbug in all this?” + +“Not a bit.” + +“Do you really believe in his scruples?” + +“I know him too well to doubt them. There are many men quite as +inconsistent. He deludes himself with all sorts of sophistry. He +persuades himself that he acts only to realise an independence for his +son, and to secure his own old age. But the truth is, he acts because he +has an irresistible impulse to act. It is a sort of intellectual +dram-drinking which he cannot forego.” + +“To be sure, men are strange bundles of contradictions; and I suppose +one must give Schoenlein credit for being sincere.” + +“He is his own dupe, for to no one but very intimate friends has he ever +disclosed his real opinions.” + +“Then his life must be a constant struggle?” + +“It is. This it is which has made him prematurely old: the struggle of +his conscience with his passions. But this it is also which gives such +touching pathos to his acting—which makes his voice so mournful that it +vibrates through your whole being. As the poet’s sufferings are sublimed +into song, and become the delight of mankind, so from the ground of this +tragedian’s despair springs the well of his inspiration, which makes him +truly great.” + +We were both silent for a few moments. + +“I have said enough,” added Madame Röckel, “to explain how such a man +must necessarily be, above all others, envious—how the success of +another must be torture to him. Nothing but intense vanity could keep +him on the stage. Hitherto he has really had no rival—he has stood +alone; other tragedians have not been named beside him. But now, within +the last few weeks, there has arisen this young Franz, who has only +played at Leipsic and Dresden, yet whose fame has spread all over +Germany.” + +“But I have seen Franz, and I assure you he is not so great an actor as +Schoenlein. To be sure, he has youth on his side.” + +“It is not his success alone which is so exasperating; it is because the +critics, as usual, will do nothing but compare the young Franz with the +old Schoenlein; while the public, with its natural inconstancy, begins +to discover that Schoenlein is no longer young. It is a sad thing,” she +pursued, with a faint smile, “for those who have reigned supreme over +audiences to feel their dynasty is drawing to a close—sad for those who +have swayed all hearts, to feel that another is now to usurp their +place. We women know what it is, in a slight degree, when we grow old. +Do we ever grow old, and _know_ it? When our glass still tells us we are +young, that the bloom is still upon our cheeks, the lustre in our eyes, +the witchery in our smiles, now as of yore—and yet what the glass tells +us, what our feelings confirm, we do _not_ see mirrored in the +admiration of those around us! We also know what it is when we see our +former adorers pass to newer beauties, and we perhaps overhear such a +phrase spoken of us as, ‘Yes, she has been handsome!’ But even we cannot +know the actor’s triumph or the actor’s humiliation. To feel that our +presence is the signal for applause, that every word we utter is +listened to with eager interest, that every part we play is an image +which we engrave upon the minds of thousands, there to abide as a thing +of beauty and of wonder—this is beyond us.” + +“But, my dear Madame Röckel, I see no diminution of admiration for +Schoenlein in Berlin. Surely no audience can be more enthusiastic. Why +should he fear a rival?” + +“You might as well ask a beauty,” she replied, “why she is jealous of a +woman less pretty than herself. The _why_ is not to be explained by +logic, for envy does not _calculate_—it _feels_.” + +“Yet, when Franz comes to Berlin, which will be next month, there will +then be no possible doubt as to which is the finer actor.” + +“Perhaps not. But the public will nevertheless applaud Franz; and +however slightly they do so, to the envious ears of Schoenlein it will +sound like thunder.” + +The clock striking twelve warned me to depart, for in Berlin they keep +early hours; and I went away thinking of what I had just heard, and +feeling no small contempt for Schoenlein’s preposterous jealousy: “What +a contemptible feeling is envy!—as if only one person in the world had a +right to admiration!” + +At that moment I stepped into a droschke, and was driving to my rooms, +when I passed that miserable puppy Fürstenberg, whom, I am sorry to say, +little * * * admires so much; though, for the life of me, I never could +see wherefore. Yet this uncouth German, aping the dandy, usurps all her +conversation, even when I am by! + +It is not that I am jealous, for that is not my character; but I +_cannot_ bear to see so charming a girl so miserably deceived in any one +as she is in Fürstenberg! + + + CHAPTER II. + +Schoenlein did not play for a fortnight, and, as the time of Franz’s +engagement was drawing near, I imagined he was sulking. I communicated +my suspicions to Madame Röckel. + +“I would wager fifty thalers,” she replied, “that he has gone to Dresden +to see his dreaded rival, and judge for himself.” + +It was as Madame Röckel said: goaded by irresistible jealousy, +Schoenlein had set off for Dresden to see his rival play. + +Arrived there, he was three days before he could summon resolution to +enter the theatre. Franz’s name met him every where. At the +_table-d’hôte_ he heard nothing but praises of Franz: in the newspapers +he read nothing but invidious comparisons between Franz and himself, in +which the palm was awarded to his rival. “Franz,” it was said, “had all +the energy of Schoenlein, with youth, and grace, and beauty in his +favour. The same power of distinct conception and unexaggerated +execution, without Schoenlein’s tendency to conventional ‘points.’” +Strangers asked him if he had seen Franz. The very waiters at the hotel +recommended him to go and see Franz! + +Schoenlein never hated his profession so much as at that moment. Yet, +such was his exasperation, that he was constantly tempted to appear on +the stage at Dresden, and crush his rival by acting in the same theatre +with him—constantly tempted to show the fickle public the genius of the +actor they were fast forgetting. + +It was the fourth day of his presence at Dresden. Hamlet was to be +performed that evening, and Schoenlein had resolved to be there. As the +hour drew near, he was seated at a table on that beautiful terrace, +which no one who has visited Dresden can ever forget, and which the +Hahn-Hahn has so graphically set before us in her _Faustine_. He was +smoking a meditative cigar, gazing abstractedly at the promenaders, who, +in their gay dresses, passed to and fro in light happy talk, while the +sounds of a good orchestra in the Café came mellowed by the distance, +and lent another charm to the exhilarating scene. His thoughts were not +at all in harmony with that happy scene—they were fixed mournfully on +his own condition. He felt the sadness of a fallen favourite. + +There he sat, and saw the sun go down over the antique bridge—saw its +last rays shimmering on the placid bosom of the Elbe, which winds its +undulating course beneath the terrace—saw the groups of promenaders +gradually disappear, and the tables all deserted. The calls for ices, +for cigars, for “light,” were becoming rarer and rarer. The music had +ceased—night had shut in. Still he sat there in the same mournful mood, +tempted to go to the theatre, so close at hand, but repelled by the idea +of hearing Franz applauded. + +At the conclusion of the third act, several playgoers reappeared upon +the terrace, to cool themselves in the evening air, and to take an ice. +Their conversation, of course, turned but upon one man, and that man was +Franz. They spoke of his Hamlet as the finest part he had yet played. + +Three men seated themselves at Schoenlein’s table. In the midst of their +enthusiastic criticism one of them remarked— + +“Well, Franz is certainly very fine; but it is absurd to compare him +with Schoenlein.” + +“I think him better,” said another. + +“Nonsense!—you would not say so if you could see them together. You will +find that in a little while the public will come round to my opinion. +Let them once get over the novelty, and they will judge correctly.” + +A thrill ran through the actor’s frame as he heard this. He called the +waiter; paid; rose; departed. In another instant he was in the +_parterre_ of the theatre, feverishly impatient for the curtain to rise. + +The brief scene between the King and Queen, which opens the fourth act, +seemed to that impatient man as if it never would end; and when +Rosenkranz was heard within calling, “Hamlet, Lord Hamlet!” the +perspiration burst from every pore, and he trembled like a leaf as +Hamlet appeared, uttering the “Soft—what news? Who calls on Hamlet?” + +Schoenlein heard no more. The tones of that voice raised a mist before +his brain—stung and perplexed him with rage and astonishment. He heard +nothing, saw nothing—his brain was in a whirl. + +The Hamlet before him—Franz, the dreaded rival—was his son! + + + CHAPTER III. + +It is necessary here to take a retrospective glance into Schoenlein’s +history, that we may understand the horror which possessed him at the +discovery of his son upon the stage. + +We may readily conceive how his dislike to his profession made him very +sedulous of keeping his child from all contact with it, lest its +fascination should mislead him also. He had never permitted him to see a +play. He brought him up strictly, religiously, austerely. He had no +friends among actors: acting was never spoken of in his presence. Yet, +by an inconsistency easily enough explained, the works most constantly +read and talked about by him were those of Shakspeare, Molière, Göthe, +and Schiller. These were his household gods. Young Franz was early +initiated into their beauties, and would declaim, (in private,) with +great gusto, all the long speeches. + +Franz was sent to the university of Leipsic, where it was his father’s +fond hope he would distinguish himself as a student of theology. For the +first year he was assiduous enough; but theology grew inexpressibly +wearisome, while poetry became irresistibly alluring to him. Göthe’s +_Wilhelm Meister_ fell into his hands, and was read with rapture. He +fell in love with the actor’s life, and felt secret yearnings to quit +the university, and throw himself upon the world in quest of +adventure—especially in quest of a Marianne, a Philina, and a Mignon! He +had not as yet dared to disobey his father’s strict commands—he had +never ventured inside a theatre; but he had imbibed the dangerous +poison—he had learned to look upon an actor’s life as a life of poetry. +The seed was sown! + +About this time my cousin William went to the Leipsic university, and +became the fellow-student and companion of Franz. From him I learned +most of these details. William was by no means a model of select +virtue—in fact, was what, in the jargon of the day, is called “rather a +fast man;” and he led Franz into many a debauch which would have driven +Schoenlein wild, had he known it; but he could not persuade him to go to +the theatre. + +Franz was ready enough at a duel, and had spoiled the beauty of some +half-dozen faces by the dexterous sword-cut which draws a line over the +nose, and lays open the cheek. He was ready enough, too, with his +beer—few youths of his age had more promising talents that way: and as +to patriotic songs, energetically demanding of the universe where the +German’s fatherland might be, or the probability of tyrants long +crushing free hearts beneath their heels, together with frantic calls +upon the sword, responded to by the clatter of beer-jugs—in these Franz +was distinguished. + +At last he did brush away his scruples, and accompanied William to the +theatre. They played Schiller’s _Don Carlos_. Conceive his rapture at +this first taste of the long-coveted forbidden fruit! He thought the +Marquis of Posa a demigod. But words cannot express his adoration of the +Princess Eboli, that night played by Madame Clara Kritisch. She was to +him the “vision of loveliness and light,” which an actress always is to +an impassioned youth, the first time he sees one. Her large voluptuous +eyes, her open brow, her delicate nostrils, her full and not ungraceful +figure, together with the dazzling beauty of her (theatrical) +complexion, made a powerful impression on him. Her acting seemed to him +the acting of an angel. + +He left the theatre madly in love with her. + +We all know what it is to be in love with an actress. We have all of us, +in the halcyon days of boyhood, offered up the incense of our young +hearts to some painted, plain, conventional, and perfectly stupid +actress, round whose head we have thrown the halo and the splendour of +our imaginations. We have had our Juliets, our Desdemonas, our Imogens, +our Rosalinds, our Violas, our Cordelias, who, though in the +flesh-and-blood reality they were good, honest, middle-aged women, +mothers of families or disreputable demireps, to us were impersonations +of the ideal—fairy visions, to whom we have written verses, whose +portraits have hung over our beds! + +Therefore, having known a touch of this “exquisite fooling,” we can +sympathise with Franz. Never having seen an actress before, any hag +painted for the heroine of the night would have charmed him. But Clara +was by no means a hag: in fact, his passion was excusable, for on the +stage she was charming. + +Franz went again and again, only to return home more in love than +before. He fancied she had remarked him in the pit; he fancied the smile +on her ruddy lips was a smile of encouragement addressed to him. He +wrote her a burning love-letter, which she quietly burned. He waited +impatiently for an answer, and went to the theatre expecting to read it +in her looks. He could read nothing there but her loveliness. + +He wrote again; he wrote daily. He sent her quires of verses, and reams +of “transcripts of his heart,” in the form of letters. He lived a +blissful life of intense emotion. Fatherland was forgotten; the sword +was no longer called upon; all tyrants were merged in the cruel one whom +he adored. + +At length he gained admittance behind the scenes; nay, more—he was +introduced to Clara. + +Alas! the shock his sense of loveliness received, when he beheld before +him the fat, rouged, spangled woman, whom he had regarded as the +incarnation of beauty! Her complexion—was this its red and white? were +its roses and lilies gathered by the hare’s foot and the powder-puff? + +He could not speak; the springs of his eloquence were frozen; the +delicate compliments he had so laboriously prepared, faded away in an +unmeaning stammer. The first illusion of his life was gone. + +Perhaps there is nothing more striking to a young man than his first +experience of the stage behind the scenes. That which, seen from the +boxes, looks health and beauty, behind the scenes is weariness and +paint; that which in the house is poetic, behind the scenes is horrible +mechanism. What scene-painting is when looked at closely, that are +actresses seen in the green-room. + +Franz was staggered, but not cured. He could not divest his heart of her +image, and began to see her again as he had always seen her. Growing +accustomed to the reality, he again beheld it in its ideal light; and as +on the stage Clara was always enchanting, she carried with her some of +the enchantment when she left it. Poor fellow! how patiently he stood +there, hungering for the merest word—the simplest look! He saw others—a +privileged few—speaking to her boldly; jesting with her; admiring her; +giving their opinions respecting her costume, as if she were an ordinary +woman, while he could only stammer out some meaningless remark. What +would he have given to feel himself at ease with her, to be familiar, so +that he might be seen to advantage! + +At last he thought of a plan for making himself better known to her. He +wrote a play, in which the heroine was destined for her; and as hers was +the only character in the piece which was effective, she pronounced it +the finest thing which had been written since Schiller. Franz was in +ecstasies. She read the play herself to the manager, and exerted all her +eloquence in its behalf. But the manager saw well enough her +motive,—knew that she was so delighted with the play merely because her +part was the important one, and declined to produce it. The play gained +its author’s end however. It had established him among Clara’s friends. +She began to notice his love for her, began to recognise its +seriousness. She knew how to distinguish between the real homage of a +heart, and the lip-homage which others offered her. + +There is something inexpressibly charming in knowing yourself possessed +of a heart’s first love; and women—especially those who have passed the +first flush of youth—are more gratified by the love of a boy, than by +that of twenty men. A boy’s love has something in it so intense, so +absorbing, so self-forgetting! It is love, and love only, unmixed with +any thoughts of responsibilities; looking forward to no future, +reflected by no past. There is a bloom on first love. Its very +awkwardness is better than grace; its silence or imperfect stammerings +more eloquent than eloquence; there is a mute appeal in its eyes, which +is worth all the protestations in the world. + +Clara, who had been accustomed to the admiration of _roués_, felt the +exquisite charm of this boy’s love. In a few weeks he became her +acknowledged lover; and excited no little envy among the _habitués_ of +the theatre, who could not for the life of them comprehend “what the +devil she could see in that bumpkin.” + +But if boys love intensely, they love like tyrants, and Clara was made a +slave. Jealous of every one who approached her, he forced her to give up +all her friends; she gave way to every caprice; she began to idolise +him. + +This connexion with an actress, as may easily be foreseen, led to +Franz’s adopting the profession of the stage. Clara taught him in a few +months that which ordinary actors take years to acquire; but this was +owing to his hereditary dramatic talent more than to her instruction. +His appearance on the stage, which would, he knew, profoundly hurt his +father, was not the mere theatrical ambition which possesses most young +men: it was stern necessity; it was the only profession open to him, for +he had married Clara! + +Yes! he, the boy of one-and-twenty, had married a woman of +five-and-thirty! It was a mad act—the recklessness or delirium of a boy: +but it was an act which has too many precedents for us to wonder at it. +He had by this act separated himself, he feared, from his father for +ever. His only hope of pardon was, as he fondly thought, dramatic +success. Could his father but see him successfully following in his +footsteps, he would surely forgive him. It was a proud moment—that boy’s +triumphant debut; proud because he had succeeded, proud because his +pardon was purchased—as he thought! + +Franz had only played a few weeks, and Germany was ringing with his +praises. So great was his success, that when a few critics and actors +whose judgments were all _traditional_, objected that he could not be a +good actor because he had not gradually worked his way upwards, they +were speedily silenced by the incontestible fact that he _was_ a great +actor. A brilliant engagement had been offered him at Berlin; and he was +about to appear on the same stage with his father, before that father +had the faintest suspicion of his son’s ever having entered a theatre. + + + CHAPTER IV. + +The curtain fell. Franz had reappeared to receive the enthusiastic +homage of the audience, and was now in his room undressing, when the +door opened, and his father stood before him. + +Instead of rushing into his arms, Franz stood confused, blushing, +trembling. The haggard sternness of his father’s face told but too +plainly with what feelings he was regarded. + +It was a moment of cruel silence. + +The position was humiliating. With his clothes scattered about the room; +with the paint still unwashed from his face; with his room in +disorder;—swords, playbills, theatrical dresses, a wig, a rouge-pot, and +washing-stand, lying about; himself in the undignified attitude of +drawing on his stockings;—all combined to present the miserable and +prosaic side of his profession to the angry glance of an incensed +parent. + +“So!” said the old man, “these are your theological studies! This is the +end of all my care! you have disobeyed me. You have destroyed all my +hopes, and gone upon the stage, for which you well know my detestation. +I find you _thus_!” + +Franz could make no answer. + +“While I fondly believed you still at the university, pursuing an +honourable career—a career useful to mankind and honourable to +yourself—you were like a runaway apprentice taking to this odious life.” + +“But, sir,—I have succeeded!” + +“So much the worse!” + +“Is not that my excuse?” + +“No; it is your condemnation.” + +“Surely, father, it proves that I have chosen right. It proves I have a +vocation for the stage?” + +“It only proves your disobedience. Vocation, indeed! Any man has a +vocation for the stage: any man who has brains, and is not physically +too weak to utter the thoughts of an author. Vocation! You might as well +tell me you had a vocation for the highway—and if you had robbed a man, +by placing a pistol to his head, and bidding him stand and deliver, that +your success was your excuse! + +“Is it not enough,” pursued Schoenlein, after a pause, “that there +should be _one_ actor in the family: one whose necessities have driven +him on the stage, and who, once there, is forced to remain there?” + +“But I, for my part, see nothing reprehensible in the life of an actor.” + +“I do.” + +Franz saw there was no appeal from such a decision, so he dressed +himself in silence. + +He was hurt, angry. He expected that his father would have been +delighted with his performance, would have rejoiced in his success. To +be treated like a schoolboy, to hear such tones and see such looks, +irritated him. + +“Come with me to my hotel,” said Schoenlein, as Franz completed his +dressing. + +They had not taken many steps before a stout middle-aged woman, +enveloped in a fur cloak, said to Franz: + +“_Lieber Franz_, the carriage is waiting.” + +Schoenlein did not hear the whispered reply, but strode hastily onwards: +his son followed. + +“Who was that,” he inquired, as they came out into the street, “who +called you _Lieber Franz_?” + +“Oh! that—an actress—one of our company—Madame Kritisch.” + +“Hm!” growled the old man; but he did not speak again till they reached +the hotel. Arrived there, they went up into his room. + +“Franz, my dear boy,” said Schoenlein, with great tenderness, “you must +promise me to quit this life, and I will forget that you have ever +disobeyed me. Let us look on it as a boyish freak, now over.” + +Franz was silent. + +“It is your father who speaks. Remember he is your best friend; and he +earnestly implores you to quit a career which even success can only make +a gilded disgrace. Will you promise me this?” + +He felt very uncomfortable, and knew not what answer to make. + +“You are young,” pursued his father; “young and hopeful. You look as yet +only to the bright side of life, and see only the pleasures of the +stage. You think it glorious to be applauded, to have your name in the +mouths of men, your portrait in shop windows. In a little while all this +applause will pall upon your ear; all these portraits will look like so +many signs of your disgrace, and caricatures of yourself. The charm will +pass away, and you will feel yourself to be a mountebank, painted to +amuse a gaping crowd! Then the wear and tear of the profession, its +thousand petty irritations and miserable anxieties, will be as stings of +wretchedness, and you will curse the day you first trod upon a stage. + +“Look at me!” he said, suddenly pausing in the angry walk which he was +taking up and down the room. “Have _I_ not been successful? have _I_ not +been flattered, envied? have _I_ not known what it is to be a great +tragedian, to dictate terms to managers, to sway audiences? Have _I_ not +known all this? And yet, since you can remember me, have you ever seen +me happy? Is not my life an example? Does not my whole life cry out to +you, Beware! Will you not profit by the bitter lessons of my +experience?” + +“But, my dear father, you forget one thing: you have always looked upon +the profession with disgust. I do not.” + +“You will learn to do so.” + +“I cannot believe it. You are the only actor in Germany who thinks so. +Besides, I have, as it seems to me, a real vocation.—You may sneer, but +a vocation is necessary in this as in all other professions. It is quite +clear that I have none for theology. I must get my bread somehow.” + +“Your bread? Franz, listen to me. So fixed is my opinion, that if you +will obey me, from this time forward you shall have the whole of my +earnings. I have already saved enough to satisfy my own humble wants. I +will devote every shilling to furthering and maintaining you in any +profession you choose to select. You shall not say that necessity made +you—as it has made _me_—an actor.” + +“I cannot accept such a sacrifice.” + +“It is none. I would sacrifice every thing rather than see you on the +stage! Besides, in another year or two you may make a rich marriage. I +have already agreed with our old friend Schmidt, that you should be +united to his daughter Bertha, and her dowry will be very large.” + +A deep, deep blush overspread Franz’s face, which was succeeded by a +deathlike paleness, as his father mentioned marriage. + +“How can I ever break my marriage to him!” was his mental exclamation. + +“Will you promise me?” + +“I cannot. Believe me, it distresses me thus to disobey you, but I +cannot quit the stage.” + +“I have failed to convince you then? You misapprehend my motives. You +think, perhaps”—and here an affected laugh of irony gave tenfold force +to the words—“that I am jealous of you?” + +“Oh, father!” exclaimed Franz. + +But his father’s words and tone had, as in a flash of light, suddenly +revealed the real feeling in his heart: he _was_ jealous, and his son +perceived it. + +Do not, however, suppose that the old man was aware of this feeling; he +would have shuddered at the accusation. Blinding himself with all sorts +of sophistications, he attributed his horror at Franz’s adoption of the +stage to his very sincere disgust to that profession; and because he +really did in his own person feel an actor’s life was disgraceful, even +sinful, he fancied his objection to Franz’s being an actor was wholly +derived from that feeling. But in the depths of his heart he was +horribly jealous. He had learned to hate Franz as a rival, before he +knew him to be his son. Critics had maddened him by their comparisons. +Franz had been pointed out as the actor who was to eclipse him. And now +that he found Franz was his son, instead of rejoicing in his success, +instead of feeling proud that at any rate his rival was his son, and +that the genius which dethroned him was derived from himself—instead of +the consolation which another father would have received, he was +assailed by the bitterest thoughts at the idea of his son being an +actor! He was incensed at such disobedience, at such violation of all +his wishes; and attributed to his anger all he really felt of jealousy. + +There is something so painful in the idea of a father being jealous of +his son, that many will be tempted to pronounce it impossible. Rare it +fortunately is, but not impossible. Who has not known women jealous of +their daughters: women preserving their beauty, and followed by homage, +till their girls are old enough to dispute and bear away the palm from +them? If this is not uncommon—and more than one instance must occur +within every reader’s experience—what is to prevent the same principle +applying in a man’s case? You have only to imagine the vanity pampered +by flattery into an unhealthy condition, and then bring in a rival—no +matter whom—and the thing is done. Either the father’s vanity will be +caressed by the reflection of the child’s success, (and this, happily, +is the commoner case,) or it will be irritated at the child’s +interference with its claims. + +In Schoenlein’s case must be added the strange but intense dislike with +which he regarded the profession of an actor. Had there been no rivalry +in the case, had Franz been only a tolerable actor, he would still have +been excessively irritated. But for his son to be an actor, and for the +public to prefer him as an actor to his father—this was agonising! + +He grew eloquent in his exhortations. Finding it was in vain to make +Franz share his religious opinions, he endeavoured to dissuade him by +painting all the dangers of the profession—its pangs, its weariness, its +disappointments—painted the disagreeable ordeal he himself had been +forced to undergo; and speaking, as he thought, to accomplish his son’s +welfare, he was eloquent. + +This much is to be said for fathers who object to their sons following +their own careers: the struggles by which they have won their way, the +sorrows which have been forced upon them, the dangers they have +escaped—these are all so vividly present to their minds, that they +believe them inseparable from the career. Who shall say that another +will escape these perils? All the delight, all the rapture of hope and +of success are forgotten, or else weigh but as a feather in the scale +against these perils. A father says:— + +“It is true I escaped; but I was fortunate. Besides, I had genius,—I had +rectitude,—I had strength of will. My poor boy, (and fathers are apt to +look with a sort of compassion on their children: is it because the +children have, from infancy upwards, looked to them for pity and +protection?)—my poor boy will not be able to buffet with the world as I +did! He will be led away by temptations; he will succumb beneath +adversity!” + +In proportion to the precariousness of the profession is the reluctance +of the parent. Poets never wish their sons to be poets; certainly not to +trust to poetry for their livelihood. Nor do artists desire their sons +to be artists. Actors almost universally shudder at the idea of their +children becoming actors. + +So that Schoenlein’s remonstrances would have been vehement, even had he +not been tormented with jealousy. But, from the moment Franz perceived +the real state of his father’s mind, all compunction vanished. No +arguments could have made him quit the stage; but now he felt his +father’s arguments to be insults. + +“I hope you do not misunderstand me,” said the old man. “You must know +me well enough to believe that no one would more rejoice in your +success—that to no one should I be so proud to transmit my laurel crown, +if it were not lined with iron, which brands the forehead with disgrace. +I am growing old, and am soon about to leave the stage for ever: to whom +could I so fitly leave the inheritance of my renown, did I not perceive +that it would entail lasting misery upon him, as it has entailed it upon +me? No, no, you must relinquish this boyish notion,—you shall marry +Bertha Schmidt, and quit the stage for ever.” + +“Oh, do not ask it!” + +“I do more than ask it—I command!” + +“Do not—dear father—do not force me to disobey you.” + +“You—you will _not_ leave the stage?” + +“I—I cannot! It would be hypocrisy in me to pretend it. I have a passion +for the stage; and whether that passion lead me to happiness or to ruin, +I _must_ gratify it.” + +“And think you Bertha will marry an actor?” + +“Perhaps not.” + +“Are you indifferent to that?” + +“Why—the truth is—I cannot marry her.” + +“You cannot? You shall!” + +“I love another!” + +“You love another!” angrily exclaimed his father; and then adding, with +a sneer— + +“Some _actress_, I presume!” + +Franz coloured. + +“It _is_ so,” said his father. “Old Clara Kritisch, I shouldn’t wonder!” + +A deeper blush overspread Franz’s face, and a look of anger shot from +his eyes, as his father contemptuously let fall those words. + +Franz loved his wife; but he knew the disparity between them. She was +not old to him, for he loved her,—was happy with her; but although to +him she was as young as a bride, he knew what others said of her—what +others thought of her. For himself he felt that + + “Age could not wither, nor custom stale + Her infinite variety;” + +yet he trembled at his father’s knowing she was his wife. + +Schoenlein, who had observed the blush on Franz’s countenance, walked up +to him and, placing one hand upon his shoulder, said— + +“Franz, Franz, beware! You are on the edge of an abyss: the worst +temptations of our miserable profession beset you. Beware of that artful +old woman:—do not frown, she is artful,—I have heard of her! She has +ruined more young men than any woman now upon the stage. She has +ensnared you;—do not attempt to deny it,—I see it in your countenance. +She has flattered and cajoled you. She has lured you with languishing +looks and sweet low words. You are already her dupe;—beware lest you +become her victim!” + +“I cannot,” said Franz, rising wrathfully, “I must not, I will not, hear +this language of her.” + +“You must and shall hear it. Why should I hesitate to utter the contempt +I feel for that _refuse_ of a hundred libertines!” + +Franz was purple with suppressed passion, and, with terrible calmness, +said:— + +“You are speaking, sir, of MY WIFE!” + +Schoenlein’s lower jaw fell; his eyes became glazed, and, slowly sinking +on the sofa, he waved his hand for his son to withdraw. + + + CHAPTER V. + +The following week Schoenlein was again in Berlin, and playing three +nights a-week—a thing quite unprecedented with him. All his repertory +was brought forward. A sort of rage possessed him. He was tormented with +the idea of producing such an effect upon the public as should perfectly +eclipse his rival and son. + +With true actor’s ingenuity in such matters, he gave the preference to +his son’s favourite parts. He hoped, by repeatedly performing them ere +Franz arrived, he should weary the public of those plays, and so prevent +large audiences welcoming the new actor. He hoped, also, that by this +means the public would better appreciate the difference between his +finished style and the crude energy of his rival. The consequence of +this procedure he expected to be,—small audiences and unfavourable +criticisms. By these he hoped to disgust his son, and so wean him from +the stage. + +Unhappily, he was so goaded by the desire to produce a greater effect +than heretofore, as to act much worse than heretofore. He overdid every +thing. He was too violent; his contrasts were too marked; the +elaboration was painful. People lamented his exaggeration, and began to +whisper that his day was gone. + +Franz appeared. Young, handsome, ambitious, full of hope and +energy—around him the charm which always belongs to novelty, and within +him the inappreciable wealth of genius—how could he fail to produce a +deep impression? The calculation of his rival turned out a mistake: so +far from the public keeping away because they had so recently seen the +pieces performed, they flocked to the house because they wished to +compare the two rivals in the same parts. As in the case of all +well-known plays, the attraction was in the actor, not in the piece. + +Berlin never witnessed such a debut. Franz was called sixteen times +before the curtain to receive their boisterous homage. The whole town +was in a state of excitement. Every body talked about him; every body +compared him with Schoenlein—to the general disadvantage of the latter; +and the secret of the relationship soon transpired, which led to endless +discussion. The actors mostly stood by Schoenlein: they do not like new +favourites. But the public, undisguisedly, unequivocally preferred +Franz. + +Exasperated by what he called the fickleness of the public, Schoenlein +went to Dresden, there to eclipse the remembrance of his son. He played +to crowded houses. But if at Berlin he overacted, at Dresden he “tore +the passion to tatters.” Instead of crushing Franz’s reputation he +nearly ruined his own. One paper had the malice to recommend him to +retire from the stage. + +He did retire; but not till after a fearful struggle with himself, and +many a bitter reflection on the world’s ingratitude, and the +worthlessness of his efforts. He was deeply hurt. He secluded himself +from every one. In the practices of devotion, and in brooding solitude, +he endeavoured to forget the world and its frivolities. He tried to find +occupation in study, and solace in religion. But to the one he did not +bring a studious mind; to the other he did not bring a religious heart. +Lacerated with envy and humiliation, his soul found no comfort in books. +He could not forget the past; he could not shut the world from his +heart. The solemn organ strains, which stirred his soul when in church, +recalled to him the stage; still more so did the inflections of the +preacher’s voice recall it to him; he could not refrain from criticising +the preacher’s declamation. + +He ceased to go to church, and tried the efficacy of lonely prayer. In +vain! The stage was for ever present before his mind. He tried to +renounce the world, but the world held possession of his heart. His +renunciation was not prompted by weariness, but by rage: the world +weighed not too heavily and sorely upon his spirit, making him weary, +making him yearn “for the wings of the dove, to flee away and be at +rest;” on the contrary, he was only angry at his unjust appreciation. +His retreat was not misanthropy but sulking. He could not forget his +defeat. + +Months passed away in this unavailing struggle. + +Suddenly he reappeared upon the stage. His reappearance created intense +interest, and the theatre trembled with applause. The public was so glad +to see its old favourite again! Schoenlein’s heart bounded, as of old, +responsive to that thunder of applause; but the joy was transient: his +pride was soon once more to be laid low. That very public, which had +welcomed him so enthusiastically, grew indifferent by the end of the +week. In truth his acting had lost its former grandeur. Flashes of the +old genius there still were, from time to time, but they only served to +make more obvious the indifference of the whole performance. People +shook their heads, and said, “He was certainly grown too old for the +stage.” + +He never reappeared. + +Meanwhile Franz continued his triumphant career. He played at almost +every town in Germany; and even the old men thought him superior to the +actors of “their day.” The greatest triumph an actor can achieve is to +make the “laudator temporis acti” forget for a moment the illusions of +his youth, and confess that, even seen through the magnifying mist which +envelops and aggrandises the past, this living actor is as great as +those who are no more. + +But Franz, amidst his brilliant success, was far from happy. The stage +was the scene of his triumphs, but home was the scene of his despair. He +was in a false, a very false position. Petted and idolised by the +loveliest women in Germany, he had learned to look upon his wife as what +she was—a woman past her prime, faded in beauty, insignificant in mind. +He began to blush for her! This is perhaps the cruellest torture a +husband can know, because it affects his self-love as keenly as his +love. It is a torture which generally results from such ill-assorted +unions. Slowly had the conviction dawned upon him—but it had come. He +struggled against it, but it would not be set aside; it pressed on and +on, till at last it fairly gained admittance into his mind, and made him +wretched. + +For observe, it was not her faded beauty which made him blush—it was not +that she was so much older—it was because this faded insignificant woman +was fretful, jealous, ungenerous, and unprincipled. The perception of +these faults of disposition opened his eyes to the perception of her +faults of person; they raised the question in his mind—_who_ is this +whose jealousy irritates, whose fretfulness distresses me? He began to +scrutinise her, and the scales fell from his eyes! + +“My dear Clara,” he said to her one day, “what in heaven’s name has +changed you so? You used to be cheerful—now you are unbearably peevish.” + +“And what has changed _you_ so, Franz?” + +“I am not aware of any change!” + +“No!” she said ironically. + +“In what, pray?” + +“You used to be fond and attentive, and now you are cold and +neglectful.” + +“If I am so, whose fault is it?” + +“Lieschen Flemming’s. Oh, yes! pretend astonishment; but I see clearly +enough. Your tenderness _on_ the stage with her is so well acted, +because you have so often rehearsed it in private.” + +“Clara! Clara! this jealousy is insupportable!” + +“Yes, yes—that is the answer I always receive; but it is no answer to my +accusation.” + +“Why, Lieschen is betrothed to Fechter!” + +“What matters that? Are _you_ not married to me—and does that interfere +with your making love to her?” + +“This is perfectly ridiculous! Last week you were jealous of Rosa Behr, +because she played Juliet; now it is Lieschen Flemming, because she +plays Gretchen. I presume every actress whom I have to make love to on +the stage will come under your suspicions?” + +“Every one to whom I see you making evident love. I know I am old. I +have lost the charm I once had in your eyes.” + +“This is not the way to regain it,” he said, as he put on his hat and +angrily left the room. + +He that day confessed to himself that she was old, that she had lost the +charm which once had captivated him! But Franz was a man of honour; and +although he found himself in this false position, he resolved to support +his lot with courage. He was wedded to a woman too old for him, unsuited +to him; but the wedding had been his act and desire. It had been the +crown upon his hopes. He had loved her—been happy with her. He could not +forget that. And although divorces are easily obtained in Germany, he +could not bring himself to abandon her, to separate from her, now she +was past her prime. He had offered her an independence if she wished to +part from him; but she did not wish to part—she still clung to the idea +of regaining his lost affection—and made home miserable as a means of +regaining it! + +For five years did Franz drag about with him this load of wretchedness. + +To render his situation still more pitiable, he became conscious that he +loved another. Madame Röckel’s youngest daughter—a sweet innocent girl +of eighteen—had conceived a passion for the young tragedian, which her +artless nature had but ill concealed. Franz read it in her eyes, in her +tones, in her confusion; and reading it, he also read in his own heart +that her passion was returned. + +He left Berlin in two days after the discovery, with bitter curses on +his youthful error, which had yoked him to a woman he could no longer +love, and which had shut him for ever from the love of another. + +Then, indeed, the thought of a divorce rose constantly before him; but +he wrestled with the temptation, and subdued it. He resolved to bear his +fate. His only hope was that death might interpose to set him free! + + + CHAPTER VI. + +If in these brief sentences I have indicated the misery of Franz’s +condition—the depth of the shadows which accompanied the lustre of his +success—if I have truly presented the main outlines of his domestic +history, the reader will imagine Franz’s feelings when a hand as +friendly as that of death did interfere to set him free. + +Clara ran away with the low comedian of the troop! + +She had worn away in tears and fretfulness all the affection she once +had felt for Franz, and having inspired a sort of passion in the breast +of this comedian, lent a willing ear to his romantic proposal of an +elopement. To a woman of her age an elopement was irresistible! + +She fled, and left Franz at liberty. + +The very day on which Franz received this intelligence he had to perform +in Kotzebue’s _Menschenhass und Reue_ (our “Stranger.”) He went to the +theatre extremely agitated. Great as was his delight at being released +from his wife, and released by no act of his own—he could not think +without a shudder upon the probable fate which awaited her; and a +remembrance of his former love and happiness with her returned to make +him sad. + +It happened that old Schoenlein had that night been seized with a sudden +impulse to see his son act, and had gone privately into the _parterre_. +It was the first time he saw his son acting—for on that Dresden night he +_saw_ nothing—a mist was before his eyes. He was now sufficiently calm +to be critical. + +Franz played the wronged husband with such intense feeling, such depth +of passion, such thrilling intonation of voice, that the old man shared +the rapture of the audience, and wept tears of joy and of pride as he +confessed that his son was really a great actor. + +The curtain had no sooner descended than Schoenlein, hurrying out of the +house, went round to the stage-door, knocked at his son’s dressing-room, +and in another instant had fallen on his shoulders, sobbing—“My boy! my +dear, dear Franz! you have conquered me!” + +“My dear father!” exclaimed Franz, pressing him convulsively to his +heart. + +“Franz, I retract all that I have said. I forgive you. You have a real +vocation for the stage!” + +This happy reconciliation was soon followed by the betrothal of Franz +Schoenlein to Matilda Röckel; and the old man had not only the delight +of seeing his son wedded to a woman worthy of him, but also to hear him +announce his intention of retiring for ever from the stage. He had +realised an independence, and the stage was connected with too many +disagreeable associations for him not to quit it on this opening of a +new era in his life. + + + + + THE MOSCOW RETREAT. + + +“It is scarcely necessary,” says Mr Rellstab, in the preface to an early +edition of his romance of “1812,” “for the author to confess how largely +he has availed himself of Ségur’s narrative of the Russian campaign. It +will be evident to all readers that he has followed, at times almost +word for word, the descriptions of that skilful historian.” Without +taxing Mr Rellstab with exceeding the romance-writer’s legitimate +privilege in thus largely helping himself from the pages of General +Count Ségur, we may congratulate him on having had as a guide, in the +historical portions of his book, so admirable a work as the _Histoire de +Napoleon et de la Grande Armée_. As interesting as any romance, it at +the same time conveys the conviction that the author has determined to +merit the character of historian, and to avoid that of the retailer of +campaigning gossip and anecdotes. Indeed one often feels disappointed +and almost vexed at the extreme brevity with which the Count refers to +all matters not strictly essential to the history of the grand army and +great chief whose history, during the brief existence of the former and +the first reverses of the latter, he undertakes to portray. He dismisses +in three lines many an incident of strange romance or thrilling horror, +whose details one would gladly see extended over as many pages. Mr +Rellstab has cleverly availed himself of this dignified and military +conciseness, improving upon hints, and filling up blanks. With a few +bold dashes of his graphic pen, Count Ségur furnishes the rough sketch; +this his German follower seizes, adds figures, tints, and names, and +expands it into a picture. The account in “1812” of the retreat from +Moscow to Wilna is, in fact, a poetical paraphrase of that given in +Ségur’s history; and this paraphrase Mr Rellstab, seduced by the +excellence of his text, allows somewhat to impede the progress of his +plot; or rather it protracts the book after the plot has, in all +essential respects, been wound up. Nevertheless, as we have already +said, this paraphrase, which may be considered in some degree +supplementary or parenthetical, is the best part of the work; and Mr +Rellstab displays great power of pen, and artistical skill, in his +handling and adaptation of the materials furnished by his French leader. +The last strictly original chapters of the romance are those composing +the eleventh book, commencing immediately after Ludwig is rescued by +hostile peasants from death at the hands of his own friends. Here for a +while we lose sight of the fugitive army, and abide amongst the +Russians. + +The chief ground of apprehension with the Russian nobles, upon +Napoleon’s invasion of their country, was lest he should proclaim the +emancipation of the serfs, and thus enlist in his behalf millions of +oppressed peasants. The plan occurred, and was suggested to the French +Emperor, but various considerations deterred him from attempting its +realisation. He apprehended a frightful amount of license and excess +amongst a barbarous people thus suddenly released from bondage. +Tremendous destruction of property, and frightful massacres of the +higher classes, were the almost certain results. He might succeed in +raising the storm, but he could never hope to guide it. Moreover, +although the child of revolution, his sympathies were not with the +masses. The Russian landholders, however, did not reckon upon his +forbearance, and took every means in their power to counteract any +propagandist projects he might have in view. “In the first place,” says +Ségur, “they worked upon the minds of their unfortunate serfs, +brutalised by every kind of servitude. Their priests, in whom they are +accustomed to confide, misled them by deceitful discourse, persuading +these peasants that we were legions of demons, commanded by +Antichrist,—infernal spirits, whose aspect excited horror, and whose +contact polluted. Our prisoners perceived that when they had used a dish +or vessel, their captors would not touch it again, but kept it for the +most unclean animals. As we advanced into the country, however, it was +natural that the clumsy fables of the priests should lose credit with +their dupes. But, on our approach, the nobles recede with their serfs +into the interior of the land, as from the advance of some mighty +contagion. Riches, habitations, all that could delay them or serve us, +are sacrificed. They place hunger, fire, the desert, between us and +them; for it is as much against their serfs as against Napoleon that +this great resolution is executed. It is not a mere war of kings, but a +war of classes and of parties, a religious war, a national war, every +kind of war united in one.” Stimulated to hatred of the intruding +foreigners by those they most feared and respected—by their owners, +namely, and their priests—the peasant-slaves of Russia perpetrated +frightful cruelties upon those unfortunate Frenchmen who fell into their +hands; cruelties admitted and abundantly illustrated by Mr Rellstab, +although his predilections are upon the whole rather Russian than +French. It is only justice to say, however, that in all the historical +portions of his romance he displays great impartiality, and puts himself +above national antipathies, taking a cosmopolitan view of the causes, +conduct, and progress of the great struggle. + +Led away by his captors to a bivouac of armed peasants in the glades of +a vast forest, Ludwig at first almost regrets having escaped the volley +of the French firing-party. A colossal Russian stretches out his hand to +appropriate his prisoner’s foraging-cap, and, upon the imprudent +resistance of the latter, raises a club to dash out his brains. Ludwig +deems himself no better than a dead man, when suddenly a woman’s scream +is heard, and a figure clad in costly furs rescues him from the fierce +savage. A veil is thrown back, and Ludwig beholds Bianca, who possesses +a castle in the neighbourhood, the same which the Polish lancers had +surprised upon her wedding-night. It is not quite clear what has brought +her into the forest among beastly Cossacks and bloodthirsty peasants, +unless it were to meet Ludwig. The sights she there meets are not all of +the most agreeable kind. Whilst the enraptured Ludwig kneels before her, +kissing her hand and weeping, a horseman, whose noble steed and rich +dress bespeaks the man of rank, dashes into the circle, and sternly +inquires the reason of this strange scene between the lady and the +captive dragoon. It is Count Dolgorow, who interrupts Bianca’s +explanation by suddenly springing from his horse, and seizing the +scoundrel Beaucaire, his former secretary, whom his quick eye has +distinguished in the group of prisoners. By a strange fatality, his +betrayer and his rescuer are together delivered into his hands. He +gratifies revenge before showing gratitude, and has the traitor +precipitated into one of the huge bivouac fires that blaze around. +Before this we have met with a French grenadier impaled alive in a wood, +and with a party of Russians setting up their captives as targets. There +is no scarcity of the horrible in Mr Rellstab’s pages, but without it +the retreat from Moscow could not be faithfully described. After +Beaucaire has been roasted, Bianca recovered from her swoon, and Ludwig +presented to the Count—who admits, but with no very good grace, his +claims to gratitude and consideration—the other prisoners are sorted. +The able-bodied are sent to the Count’s hunting-seat, thence to be +forwarded to the mines. To those unfit to work, Russia, says Dolgorow, +can afford no other nourishment than two ounces of lead. One man only is +put aside as too old for labour. This is St Luces, Beaucaire’s employer +and Ludwig’s persecutor. + +“St Luces, not having understood the Count’s words, fancied that, from +his appearance and fine linen, and from his clothes (of which, however, +he was by this time pretty well stripped,) his captors had discovered +him to belong to the higher classes. The pallid horror which had spread +over his features since the terrible fate of Beaucaire, was replaced by +a faint gleam of hope. He ventured to address the Count in French. + +“‘I trust, sir,’ he said, ‘I shall be treated in conformity with those +laws of war which all civilised nations respect. I am not a military +man, but belong to the civil service; my rank—’ + +“‘You are a Frenchman,’ sternly interrupted Dolgorow—‘one of those +vampires who have sucked the blood and marrow out of half the nations of +Europe; more contemptible and odious than the soldier, for he, at least, +fights with fair and open weapons.’ + +“‘They would willingly,’ persisted St Luces, again trembling with +apprehension, ‘exchange me against Russian prisoners!’ + +“‘Prisoners! what prisoners have you?’ cried Dolgorow with bitter scorn. +‘Thousands, certainly are set down in your bulletins, but where can you +show them? You do wrong to remind me of that. Think you we know not how +your ruthless assassin bands have treated the few who fell into their +hands? Think you we have not found them, lying with shattered skulls +upon the roads in rear of your flying columns? Did we not meet with them +shut up in churches, barns, and stables, dead in the pangs of famine? +Away with ye! We shall find enough to exchange, when exchange we +_will_.’”[9] + +Discoveries and surprises now tread rapidly on each other’s heels. A +German in the service of Count Dolgorow recognises Ludwig as the son, +and St Luces as the murderer of his former master; whereupon Ludwig +generously intercedes for the Frenchman’s life, but is sternly repulsed +by the Count, and St Luces is forthwith shot. Then, upon their way to +Bianca’s castle, Ludwig and his mistress stumble upon Bernard, lying +senseless in the road. They pick him up and take him with them, in spite +of danger from wolves and of the anger of Countess Dolgorow, impatient +to proceed. At the castle Bernard and Bianca discover, by the somewhat +hackneyed contrivance of identical rings, that they are brother and +sister, and soon afterwards the Count becomes aware of the good +understanding between them, and that Bianca knows she is not his +daughter. These meetings and recognitions thwarting certain deep-laid +plans, he resolves to forward Ludwig and Bernard to Siberia; but before +he can do so, the two young men, with Bianca and Willhofen the German +servant, make their escape by the aid of some French prisoners, and take +the road to Smolensko, with the intention of joining the French army and +seeking refuge in Germany. + +Meanwhile Rasinski, with the shattered remnant of his gallant regiment, +now reduced to a feeble squadron of sixty horses, forms part of the +rear-guard under the hero Ney. We will give a specimen of Mr Rellstab’s +adaptation of Ségur. + +“‘Rasinski!’ suddenly exclaimed Jaromir, ‘do you see yonder on the +rising ground?’ + +“‘Cossacks! And I wager my head they are not alone!’ replied Rasinski. + +“Upon the heights appeared three horsemen, seemingly thrown forward to +reconnoitre. They were soon remarked by all; and there occurred in the +French ranks that restless stir and low murmur, betokening the +expectation of an important event. + +“‘Jump on your horse, Jaromir,’ said Rasinski, ‘and ride to the corner +of the forest; thence you will see far over the country.’ + +“Jaromir, now the best mounted in the regiment, sped swiftly across the +snow, in obedience to the order. But he returned even more rapidly, to +announce that the entire heights were covered with Cossacks, and that +infantry columns were debouching from the depths of the forest. + +“Just then Colonel Regnard, who by the marshal’s order had also been out +to reconnoitre, rode by. ‘This looks like work, Rasinski,’ he cried in +passing; ‘the ball opens just like the day before yesterday. The wood is +as full of Russians as an anthill of ants.’ The drums beat. The troops +stood to their arms. The disorderly groups of weaponless stragglers and +invalids formed themselves into a dense mass. + +“‘For us the fight is a pleasure,’ exclaimed Rasinski; ‘but it is hard +upon Boleslaw and the other wounded. We must do our best to shield them +from harm. But who comes here?’ + +“A Russian officer was seen descending the hill, waving a white +handkerchief. + +“‘Useless trouble, sir,’ said Rasinski proudly to himself, as he +distinguished the Russian’s object. ‘We shall not treat for peace so +long as we can handle our arms.’ + +“The marshal was busy placing and ordering his troops. He galloped +through the ranks, showing himself every where, directing and +encouraging all. Rasinski sent an orderly to report to him the approach +of a flag of truce. But before the message reached him, the Russian +officer reached the outposts, and, on distinguishing the Polish uniform, +summoned them in their own language to surrender to overpowering forces. +Rasinski sprang forward like an incensed lion. ‘What!’ he shouted, ‘you +would seduce our men, incite them to desert! That is not the duty of a +flag of truce. You are my prisoner!’ + +“The alarmed officer would have turned his horse, but Rasinski already +held the bridle, and his soldiers surrounded the Russian so quickly that +resistance and flight were alike impossible. + +“‘You will surely respect the sacred rights of a flag of truce!’ cried +the Russian. + +“‘You should have waited at proper distance, till you knew if it pleased +us to receive you,’ replied Rasinski. ‘It is against all usage of war to +approach an enemy’s army as you have done.’ + +“‘Take me to your commander,’ said the officer, ‘he will listen to my +well-intended offers. The bravest must yield to impossibility. You have +no alternative but capitulation.’ + +“‘We shall see that,’ answered Rasinski, well assured beforehand of the +marshal’s decision. ‘Here comes our commander, Marshal Ney. That name +may suffice to convince you that you will waste your words.’ + +“The marshal came; Rasinski rode to meet him and reported what had +passed. + +“‘You have done your duty as an officer and man of honour,’ replied Ney; +‘I should take shame to myself did I hesitate to confirm your words.’ +And he rode forward and inquired the Russian’s pleasure. + +“‘Marshal Kutusow sends me,’ began the officer. ‘He would not offend so +renowned a warrior and general by asking him to lay down his arms, if +any alternative remained open. Upon the surrounding heights stand eighty +thousand men, and one hundred pieces of cannon. If you doubt my words, +you are at liberty to send an officer, whom I will conduct through our +ranks that he may count our strength.’ + +“‘I hope to get near enough to your army to count them myself,’ replied +the marshal with flashing eyes. ‘Tell Prince Kutusow that Marshal Ney +has never yet surrendered, and that the world’s history shall never +record his having done so. Yonder is the goal which duty and honour +assign me; I will break a road through your ranks, though your forests +became armies.’ + +“‘They _will_ do so,’ replied the Russian. The words had scarce left his +lips, when the thunder of artillery echoed from the heights in front and +on the left flank, and an iron hail crashed and rattled upon the icy +surface of the plain. + +“‘This is treachery!’ cried the marshal sternly, as he looked up and +beheld the hills crowned on all sides with levelled guns, and dark +masses of troops. ‘There is no parleying under fire! You are my +prisoner!’ + +“The officer, confounded at being thus sacrificed by the imprudence or +recklessness of his friends, gave up his sword. + +“‘Take him to the rear!’ commanded the marshal. ‘General Ricard, +forward! Attack the enemy with the bayonet. You shall have the honour of +opening the road.’ + +“The general, at the head of fifteen hundred men, pressed resolutely +forward.” + +Everybody who has read Ségur, and those who have not had better begin +immediately, knows how these fifteen hundred men were swept away by +Kutusow’s artillery; how Ney in person headed the next charge; and how, +after losing more than half his division, he retreated towards +Smolensko, made a flank movement, again returned southwards, and at last +struck the Dnieper, and crossed it with the remnant of his force, +without a bridge, and on blocks of floating ice, to find, upon the +further bank, Platoff and his Cossacks, with their Scythian tactics and +sledge-mounted artillery, to which he had no cannon to oppose,—the six +guns wherewith he had audaciously returned the fire of Kutusow’s +tremendous batteries having been left, of course, on the north bank of +the river. But, after braving and escaping from the whole Russian army, +Ney was not to be intimidated by a horde of ill-disciplined savages; and +he forced his way, fighting incessantly, to the neighbourhood of Orcha, +where Eugene received him with open arms. There are only five short +days’ marches from Smolensko to Orcha; but in that little section of the +long and terrible retreat, Ney, whilst losing thousands of men daily, +gathered enough laurels to shade the brows of half a dozen heroes. We do +not envy the feelings of those, be they Russians, English, or of what +country they may, who can read, without profound emotion and admiration, +the history of Marshal Ney during the Russian campaign, and especially +during its latter and most disastrous portion. When those who previously +ranked as the bravest gave in—when pride and thirst for glory were +obliterated by extremity of suffering, and by the instinct of +self-preservation—when the soldier’s most powerful incentives, +discipline, honour, and gain, were forgotten and lost sight of, and even +the iron veterans of the Old Guard, no longer sustained by their +Emperor’s presence, renounced the contest and lay down to die—when his +fellow-marshals, with rare exceptions, showed weariness and +discouragement, and even the stern Davoust complained that the limits of +human suffering were exceeded,—where was Ney, what was his aspect, what +his words and actions? In rear of the army, a musket in his hand, a +smile of confidence on his lips, the fire of his great soul and of his +own glory flashing from his eyes, he exposed his life each minute in the +day, as freely as ever he had done when he had but life to lose, before +his valour had given him riches and rank, family and fame. Surely, so +long as valour is appreciated, the name of NEY will be borne in glorious +remembrance. And surely those men who subsequently pronounced his +sentence of death, must since have sometimes felt remorse at their share +in the untimely fate of so great a warrior. “I have saved my eagles!” +joyously exclaimed Napoleon, when he learned, at two leagues from Orcha, +that Ney was safe, although he brought with him but the ghost of his +fine division. “I would have given three hundred millions to avoid the +loss of such a man.” Although Napoleon, in some things the most +magnificent charlatan upon record, dealt largely in speeches of this +sort, we may believe that in this instance the cry came from the heart. +What would the Emperor have said, had he then been told that three years +later, on the 7th December 1815, the anniversary of one of those days +when Ney so bravely breasted the Muscovite torrent, an execution would +take place in an alley of the Luxemburg gardens, and that there, by +sentence of a French chamber and the bullets of French soldiers, a +premature end would be put to the glorious career of him he had surnamed +the Bravest of the Brave! + +Previously to the junction of Ney and Eugene, Colonel Rasinski, whilst +reconnoitring in the gray of the morning, falls in with a sledge +containing three persons muffled in furs, whom he at first takes for +Russians, but who prove to be Ludwig and his two companions. Upon the +occasion of so happy a meeting, M. Rellstab is of course profuse in +tears and embraces; Jaromir and Boleslaw are summoned to assist at the +jubilee, and thenceforward the three Poles, the two Germans, Bianca, her +waiting-maid Jeannette, and the faithful Willhofen, keep together as far +as Wilna, save and except those amongst them whom death snatches by the +way. The party is soon increased by an infant, the daughter of Colonel +Regnard, and of a French actress, of which Bianca takes charge. Here +again the author of “1812” has made good and effective use of an +incident thus briefly recorded by Ségur. + +“At the gates of the town (Smolensko) an infamous act struck all +witnesses with a horror that still survives. A mother abandoned her son, +a child of five years old; in spite of his cries and tears she repulsed +him from her overloaded sledge, wildly exclaiming that ‘he had not seen +France! he would not regret it! But as to her, she knew France! she must +see her country again!’ Twice did Ney have the poor child replaced in +its mother’s arms, thrice she threw it upon the frozen snow. But amongst +a thousand instances of sublime and tender devotedness, this solitary +crime was not left unpunished. This unnatural parent was herself +abandoned upon the snow, whence her victim was raised and confided to +another mother. At the Beresina, at Wilna, and Kowno, the orphan was +seen, and he finally escaped all the horrors of the retreat.” + +In the romance the child is first fostered by a wounded veteran, and a +compassionate canteen woman, but is separated from them when traversing +the Dnieper, and receives the tenderest care from Bianca. On the +northern bank of the Beresina we find the principal personages of the +tale assembled, at the moment when the Russian cannon pour their +murderous contents into the dense mass of fugitives, and these, crowding +to the bridge, fall by hundreds into the water. A round-shot suddenly +shatters the front of the vehicle in which Bianca, her maid, and the +child are seated. The scene that ensues is spiritedly and naturally +told. + +“The frightened horses reared furiously, and would have upset the +carriage had not the pole and fore-axle been in splinters. Willhofen +sprang forward to hold them; Ludwig and Bernard hurried to his +assistance. With streaming hair, Jeannette had already leaped from the +cart, and Bianca, unconscious of what she did, followed her example, +still closely clasping the infant. + +“‘Is it alive?’ cried a voice, and at the same moment she felt herself +seized from behind. She turned, and Regnard stood before her, his right +arm in a sling: he had just made his way through the crowd of carts. +‘Oh! I have you then at last,’ he tenderly exclaimed, kissing and +caressing his child as she lay in the arms of Bianca, who, stunned with +terror and the recent shock, scarce thought of wondering at his +unexpected appearance. + +“‘You here, colonel?’ cried Bernard. ‘How and whence came you?’ + +“‘From the fight up yonder,’ replied Regnard. ‘’Tis awful work; our +fellows stand like the walls of Troy, but all must soon be overthrown, +for the Russians bury us under their bullets.’ + +“‘Did you see Rasinski? Is he alive? And Boleslaw and Jaromir?’ + +“‘They fight like lions, like devils, those Poles; but it’s all in vain, +we cannot hold out another hour. And this defile over the bridge looks +about as tempting as the jaws of hell.’ + +“‘You are wounded, colonel?’ + +“‘My right arm shattered. My horse was knocked over by a shell; I +dragged myself as far as Studianka to seek a doctor, and found ashes and +corpses, no longer of use in the fight. I thought I would have a trial +to cross the bridge. I saw these carriages from above; I knew you had +driven up here yesterday. If I could only find you, I thought, and get a +last look at my little daughter! Laugh at me, if you like, but the +thought came like a whisper from heaven. ‘Perhaps it is the last wish +you will see fulfilled,’ said I to myself. And as if some invisible +guide had led me, I made my way to your very carriage, just as the +twelve-pounder played you the trick. Only see now how hearty the child +is; it grows like its mother! Ah! if I only had something for you, poor +darling! Were we but in Paris, that I might give you a pocketful of +bonbons!’ + +“And in fondling and chattering with the infant, he forgot both his +crushed arm and the destruction that raged so actively around. The storm +of shot had no terrors for him; twenty battles had accustomed him to it. +But the sweet emotions of paternal love were new to him, and a secret +voice seemed to warn him that he would not long enjoy them. + +“Ludwig now came up and greeted the colonel. Bianca gave the child to +Jeannette, for Regnard, with only one arm, could not hold it, and she +felt that her strength was giving way amidst this complication of +horrors. She leaned against the wheel of the carriage. Bernard observed +her faltering, and encircling her tenderly with his arm, he kissed her +pale cheek. + +“‘See yonder woman,’ he said; ‘take pattern by her; see, dearest sister! +how calm she is amidst the ravages of death.’ + +About twenty paces off, a tall female figure sat upon a horse, a child +of three years old in her arms, and gazed steadily at the tumult. A +black veil was twined round her head, but left her noble and striking +countenance exposed. She could but just have arrived, otherwise her +appearance was too remarkable not to have attracted attention, even in +that hour of confusion when few thought of any thing but their danger. + +“‘Calm?’ said Bianca, after a long look, ‘calm, say you? Petrified, you +_should_ say. See you not the tears that roll over her rigid +countenance, and the despairing gaze she directs to heaven? Alas, poor +woman!’ + +“‘She is the widow of Colonel Lavagnac,’ said Regnard; ‘her husband fell +three weeks ago at Wiazma; the child in her lap is her daughter.’ + +“All eyes were fixed in pity on the mourning figure, when a cannon-ball +boomed through the air, and struck her and her horse to the ground. A +cry of horror escaped the bystanders. The unhappy woman had disappeared. +One could not see her for the throng. Bernard, Ludwig, and Regnard +forced a passage through the mob of men and horses, but with all their +efforts their progress was slow. Bianca followed them, led partly by +pity and partly by fear of separation from her protectors. + +“Silent and uncomplaining, the lady sat upon the ensanguined snow, her +tall, dignified form supported against an overturned cart, her child +clasped in her arms. The shot had shattered both her feet, but her +infant appeared unhurt, and anxiously clasped its mother’s neck with its +little hands. None thought of succouring the poor creatures; all were +too engrossed with their own selfish misery, and few vouchsafed her more +than a passing glance as they struggled onwards. She would hardly have +escaped being trampled under foot, had not her wounded horse, lashing +out convulsively in the agonies of death, cleared a space around her. +Whilst Bernard supported his trembling sister, Ludwig and Regnard +attempted to climb over the cart which intervened between them and the +wounded lady. But at that moment the noble sufferer took a strong +hair-chain from her neck, twisted it, before any could stay her hand, +around her infant’s throat, and with a sudden exertion of strength drew +it tight. The little creature drooped its head and fell strangled on its +mother’s knees. In a last frantic convulsion, the unhappy parent clasped +her child to her bosom, gave an agonised sigh, a glance to heaven, and +fell back, dead. At that moment Ludwig and Regnard reached her, but it +was too late. Bianca hid her face in her brother’s bosom.” + +A fragment of a shell knocks over the faithful Willhofen. The fire from +the Russian batteries becomes more terrible than ever, the crowd more +agitated and frantic. + +“‘Let us keep together!’ cried Regnard—‘once separated, we shall never +meet again.’ And he stretched out his hand to grasp that of Ludwig, when +a ball passed between them, overthrowing the colonel. + +“‘Regnard!’ cried Ludwig, springing to his assistance, ‘are you badly +hit?’ + +“Bernard raised the wounded man by the shoulders, and bent over him. + +“‘I have got my allowance,’ said Regnard, faintly. ‘Where is my little +daughter?’ + +“Shuddering, but with resolute step, Bianca came forward, the child in +her arms. She kneeled beside the dying soldier and held it out to him. +Regnard looked mournfully at the little creature so soon to be an +orphan. + +“‘Farewell!’ he said, kissing it for the last time. ‘You have no longer +a father—but a mother—has she not?’ added he, imploringly to Bianca. +‘Greetings to Rasinski, if he still lives to receive them. Long live the +Emperor!’ + +“Upon this last exclamation, uttered in a hoarse soldier-like tone, the +final breath of the dying man was expended. The next instant his soul +had fled.” + +From the heights of Studianka the beaten French now pour down, and +Bianca loses her female attendant, who perishes miserably, crushed by a +gun-carriage. It will be seen that there is a considerable accumulation +of horrors at this part of the romance; but tender-hearted persons, whom +narratives of human suffering too painfully affect, will naturally avoid +a book founded on such a campaign as that of 1812. The passage of the +Beresina has been too often described to be worth dwelling upon here; +and the more so as Mr Rellstab very judiciously has not attempted to +alter or improve upon the reality, of itself sufficiently extraordinary +and harrowing. He makes Rasinski execute the famous feat of Jacqueminot, +Oudinot’s aide-de-camp, who, after swimming the Beresina in spite of the +piercing cold and of the floating blocks of ice that bruised and cut his +horse’s chest and flanks, galloped after the stragglers from Tchaplitz’s +retreating column, caught one, disarmed him, put him before him on his +horse and swam back with him to Napoleon, who had expressed a wish for a +prisoner from whom to get information. + +Hopeless of crossing the crowded bridge, where a fearful struggle for +precedence now goes on amongst the mob of desperate fugitives, Bianca +and her two companions take their course up stream, still bearing with +them Regnard’s orphan daughter, and hoping to find rest and shelter by +passing themselves off as Russians. At last, seeing no signs of house or +village, they sit down in despair upon the snow and await their fate; +when, in accordance with Mr Rellstab’s practice of bringing about +opportune meetings, Rasinski and his handful of lancers ride up to them, +and after the due amount of kisses and tears, a Lithuanian peasant +guides them to a ford, and they get through the river in safety. At +Zembin they procure a small sledge, and Bernard and Ludwig urge Bianca +to hurry forward to Wilna. Neither of them offer to accompany her, which +they might with great propriety have done, seeing that they are +dismounted and useless, but propose confiding her to a wounded dragoon, +a proposal which she naturally enough declines, and declares she will +stick to the ship—in other words to the regiment—and rough it with the +rest. After which plucky decision there is no more talk of parting +company till they reach Wilna. Before getting there, however, there is +much to be gone through. For winter sets in, and the tortures of cutting +cold are added to those previously endured, slaying the sick and wounded +by hundreds of a night. Overpowered by the fatigues of the day, they lie +down to sleep beside their watchfires, and in the morning are stiff and +cold. The north-west wind suddenly surrounds the harassed Frenchmen with +the terrible atmosphere of the north pole, the air is filled with an icy +dust, lips and cheeks crack and blister, the eyes are inflamed by the +glittering whiteness of the snow. The horses die from extreme cold, and +it is just as well for their riders, who would otherwise be frozen in +their saddles. Thus Rasinski and his comrades find themselves +dismounted, and Bianca’s sledge becomes useless. They pursue their way +on foot, amidst scenes of inconceivable suffering and woe. Few of those +around them show fortitude in this extremity of misery. In some +instances despair and madness lead to violence and shameful excesses. +Bianca, whose courage rises with the necessity for exertion, is walking +supported by Ludwig’s arm, and Bernard follows at a short distance, +carrying the infant, who, unconscious of the danger, smiles cheerily in +his face, when the following incident occurs. + +“At this moment a hoarse firm voice was heard in rear of Bernard. + +“‘Stop, dog!’ it exclaimed. ‘Your cloak, or I shoot you dead!’ + +“Bernard stopped and looked round. A soldier, scantily attired in +wretched rags, his features distorted, his beard long and tangled, his +face black with earth and smoke, his eyes, frightfully inflamed, rolling +wildly in their orbits, stood before him and covered him with his +musket. + +“‘What would you, wretched man?’ cried Bernard, horror-struck and +stepping backwards. The child screamed with terror, clasped its arms +around him, and hid its little head in his breast. + +“‘Your warm cloak, or I shoot you down!’ shouted the frantic soldier. +‘No more comrades here; I’ve as good a right to save myself as you.’ + +“Bernard saw himself almost alone with the assassin; although thousands +were within hail, the bullet would be quicker than their aid, supposing +even that one amongst them had sufficient pity for another’s peril to +turn aside for a moment, and thus lengthen his journey and sufferings by +a few painful paces. There was nothing for it but to yield to the menace +and give up his warm wrapper, although he well knew that with it he gave +up his life. + +“‘You would murder a comrade to prolong your own life?’ said Bernard, in +a tone of dignified determination; ‘be it so, but you will profit little +by the deed. Your hour will overtake you the sooner.’ + +“‘Quick, death gripes me already!’ cried the madman, his musket still +levelled and his bloodshot eyes wildly rolling. + +“Bernard stooped to put down the child, which impeded him in pulling off +his coat; as he did so, he heard a loud cry, and turning, he beheld +Bianca, who threw herself weeping at the feet of the furious soldier. + +“‘Take this gold, these jewels!’ she exclaimed; ‘this warm cloak is +yours, but let my brother live!’ And, with the quickness of thought, she +tore the rich chain from her neck and the furs from her shoulders, +leaving her arms and delicate frame exposed with slight covering to the +rigour of that horrible climate. The soldier gazed at her for a moment +with fixed and straining eyes, then his arms slowly sank; letting the +musket fall to the ground, he pressed both hands to his face, and broke +out in loud weeping and whimpering. By this time Ludwig came up, and he +and Bernard lifted up Bianca, who was still kneeling on the frozen +ground, and extending her arms with the proffered gifts. + +“‘Wild beast that I am!’ suddenly exclaimed the stranger; ‘no, I cannot +survive this shame. Forgive me; you knew me once a better man, before +suffering drove me mad! But no matter; I know my duty.’ + +“He stooped to pick up his musket. Bernard kept his eyes fixed upon him, +and racked his memory for the features, which, wild and distorted though +they now were, still seemed familiar to him. + +“‘Where have I known you?’ he asked, as the man resumed his erect +position. + +“‘I don’t wonder you’ve forgotten me,’ was the gloomy reply; ‘I have +forgotten myself. Alive, I am no longer worthy of the Order!’ cried he +wildly, tearing from his rags the ribbon of the Legion of Honour and +throwing it upon the snow. ‘I will try to earn it again, that you may +lay it upon my body. I am my own judge, and I show no favour.’ + +“Setting the butt of his musket firmly on the earth, he pressed his +breast against the muzzle and touched the trigger with his foot. The +piece went off, and its unfortunate owner fell heavily to the ground. + +“‘Gracious God!’ exclaimed Bianca, sinking senseless into Ludwig’s arms. + +“Bernard was at the side of the fallen man, supporting his head. A last +spark of life still remained. ‘If you get to France,’ gasped the +suicide, ‘a word to my wife and children—Sergeant Ferrand—of Laon,’ and +the spirit departed. As he closed his eyes, Bernard remembered him. It +was the same Sergeant Ferrand whose humanity saved him and Ludwig from +perishing during their imprisonment at Smolensko. Military honour was +the condition of the veteran’s existence; he thought himself degraded +beyond redemption by the murderous aggression to which misery, pain, and +despair, had driven him; a woman had surpassed him in courage, and that +was more than he could bear. A rigorous judge, he had pronounced his own +doom, and executed it with his own hand. + +“Deeply moved, Bernard knelt beside the body; he gathered up the scrap +of tarnished ribbon which the departed soldier had prized above all +earthly goods, and laid it upon the breast of the corpse. + +“‘Who shall deprive you of it?’ he said. ‘May it adorn you beyond the +grave, amidst the throng of the valiant who have preceded you!’ + +“And they continued their journey, for the times admitted not of delay.” + +That night they have to fight for their quarters in the village of +Malodeczno, and use their artillery for the last time, being compelled +to abandon it for the want of horses. Boleslaw is killed in the action. +Soon afterwards, the Emperor leaves the army, and his departure +dispirits even those who admit its propriety. Things get worse and +worse. Often, after a fatiguing day’s march, no shelter is obtainable, +and Bianca and her tender charge are fain to brave the inclemency of the +bivouac, whilst the men watch by turns to keep off wolves and marauders. +One night, when performing this duty, Jaromir is startled by a loud +laugh, sounding strangely horrible in that scene of misery and +desolation. + +“From out of the surrounding darkness a grim figure stalked into the +circle of fire-light. It was a gigantic cuirassier, wrapped in a +tattered cloak, a bloody cloth bound round his head beneath his helmet. +In his hand he carried a young fir tree, as a staff to support his +steps. + +“‘Good evening,’ he said, in a hollow voice to Jaromir. ‘Good evening, +comrade. You seem merry here.’ + +“‘What seek you?’ demanded Jaromir, amazed at this hideous apparition! +‘There is no place for you here. Begone!’ + +“The cuirassier stared at him with his hollow eyes, twisted his mouth +into a frightful grin, and gnashed his teeth like some infuriated beast. + +“‘Ha, ha, ha!’ he laughed, or rather yelled; ‘Sleep you then so sound, +ye idlers?’ And as he spoke he stamped with his foot on a frozen corpse +upon which he stood. ‘Awake, awake!’ he cried, ‘and come with me!’ + +“For a moment he stood as if listening to some distant sound, then +tottered painfully forward to the fire. + +“‘Back!’ cried Jaromir, ‘Back, or I shoot you on the spot!’ And he drew +a pistol; but his hand, trembling with fever, had not strength to level +it. + +“The lunatic stared at him with stupified indifference, his sunken +features varying in their expression from a ghastly smile to the deepest +misery. Jaromir gazed at him in silent horror. The huge figure stretched +its lean arms out from under the cloak, and made strange and +unintelligible gestures. + +“‘Ho! I am frozen!’ howled the human spectre at last, and shook himself. +Then he clutched at the flames with his fingers, like an infant, and +staggered nearer and nearer till he stood close to the circle of +sleepers, far within which he extended his arms. For the first time he +now seemed to feel the warmth of the fire. A low whining noise escaped +him, then he suddenly exclaimed, in tones between laughing and crying, +‘To bed! to my warm bed!’ tossed his fir-tree staff far from him, +stumbled forwards over the sleeping soldiers, and threw himself, in his +raging madness, into the centre of the glowing pile. + +“‘Help, help!’ cried Jaromir, his hair erect with horror, and seizing +Rasinski, he shook him with all his remaining strength. + +“‘What is it?’ cried Rasinski, raising himself. + +“‘There, there!’ stammered his friend, pointing to the flames, in which +the unhappy cuirassier lay writhing and bellowing with agony. Rather +conjecturing than comprehending what had occurred, Rasinski started up +to rescue the sufferer. But it was too late. The heat had already +stifled him; he lay motionless, the flame licking greedily round his +limbs, and a thick nauseous smoke ascending in clouds from his funeral +faggots. Rasinski stepped shudderingly backward, and turned away his +face to conceal his emotion; then he observed that all around him lay +buried in a deathlike sleep. Not one had been aroused by the terrible +catastrophe that had occurred in the midst of so many living men.” + +After those long days of hunger and fatigue, the bonds of slumber were +of iron strength, and difficult to loosen. And it was even more +dangerous than difficult to rob the survivors of the Grand Army of that +brief repose, often their sole solace and refreshment during the +twenty-four hours. In his turn overtaken by delirium, Jaromir’s cries +and complaints at last awoke the whole party round the fire. A low +murmur arose amongst the soldiers, and rapidly increased. Soon they cast +ominous and threatening glances at the young Pole, and at last their +discontent found a voice. + +“‘Who is the madman, and what ails him?’ savagely exclaimed a bearded +grenadier. ‘He robs us of our precious sleep! Thrust him from the +fire—let him freeze if he cannot be still!’ + +“‘Ay, thrust him out!’ was the universal cry; and several sprang to +accomplish the barbarous deed. Bianca uttered a cry of terror; Ludwig +caught her in his right arm, and with his left kept off the assailants. +Rasinski, who at once saw the greatness of the peril, left Jaromir in +Bernard’s care, and leaped with flashing eyes into the midst of the +circle. Ever prompt and decided, he snatched a half consumed branch from +the fire, waved it above his head, and shouted with that lion’s voice so +often heard above the thunder of the battle, ‘Back, knaves! The first +step forward costs one of you his life.’ + +“The angry soldiers hesitated and hung back, yielding to Rasinski’s +moral ascendency as much as to his threat of punishment. But then the +grenadier drew his sabre and furiously exclaimed:— + +“‘What, dastards, are ye all afraid of one man? Forward! Down with the +Polish dogs!’ + +“‘Down thyself, inhuman ruffian!’ thundered Rasinski, and sprang to meet +his foe. Adroitly seizing the soldier by the wrist of his uplifted arm, +so that he could not use his weapon, he struck him over the head with +the burning branch so violently, that the charred wood shivered, and a +cloud of sparks flew out. But the blow, heavy as it was, was deadened by +the thick bearskin cap, and served only to convert the angry +determination of the grenadier into foaming fury. Of herculean build, +and at least half the head taller than his opponent, he let his sabre +fall, and grappled Rasinski with the intention of throwing him into the +flames. The struggle lasted but for a moment before Rasinski tottered +and fell upon his knees. To all appearance his doom was sealed, the hero +succumbed before the overpowering strength of the brute, when Ludwig +flew to his assistance, dragged the soldier backwards, and fell with him +to the ground. Rasinski picked up the sabre, with his left hand dashed +the bearskin from the head of the fallen grenadier, and with the right +dealt him a blow that clove his skull in twain. Then, erecting his +princely form, he advanced, with the calm dignity that characterised +him, into the midst of the astounded bystanders. ‘Throw the corpse into +the snow,’ commanded he: ‘lie down again and sleep. It matters no more +than if I knocked a wolf upon the head.’ + +“As if he had no longer occasion for it, he threw the sabre +contemptuously from him. None dared to murmur, but two soldiers +obediently raised the bloody corpse of the fallen man, carried it a few +paces, and threw it upon the snow-covered ground.” + +The following evening the little band of friends reached Wilna, but +without Jaromir, who had expired on the road. Wilna, the first inhabited +town the French army had seen since their entrance into Russia, had been +looked forward to by the fugitives who escaped from the terrible passage +of the Beresina, as a refuge and a resting-place. There they fondly +expected shelter from the cold, food for the famishing, bandages and +medicine for the wounded and the sick. But their arrival took the +Lithuanian capital by surprise. The inhabitants were still without any +certain accounts of the disasters of the French, when suddenly they +beheld their streets invaded by forty thousand ragged wretches, in whom +it was impossible to recognise the remains of those magnificent troops +which had passed through with Napoleon in the previous month of July. +The very impatience of the men to get into the comfortable quarters they +had promised themselves (but which few of them found, for the +inhabitants shut their doors, and the commissaries, although their +stores were crammed with bread and meat, refused to serve out those much +needed provisions without a host of formalities rendered impossible by +the general disorganisation) was the destruction of thousands. They all +rushed in at one entrance,—the narrow suburb became blocked up with men, +horses, and vehicles, and numbers perished of cold and of suffocation. +When the survivors got through, their despair was terrible on finding +themselves every where repulsed, from hospital and barracks, from the +provision-store and the private dwelling. The hospitals and barracks, +where there were neither beds or straw, were converted into +charnel-houses, heaped with human bodies. “At last,” says Ségur, “the +exertions of certain chiefs, such as Eugene and Davoust, the pity of the +Lithuanians and the avarice of the Jews, opened places of refuge. Then +it was strange to behold the astonishment of these unfortunates on +finding themselves at last in inhabited houses. What delicious food a +loaf of bread appeared, what inexpressible pleasure did they find in +eating it seated, and with what admiration were they struck by the sight +of a single weak battalion, still armed and uniformly clothed. They +seemed to return from the extremity of the world, so completely had the +violence and duration of their sufferings detached them from all their +former habits.” + +Bianca, her brother and friends, skirt the town to avoid the throng, and +get in by an unencumbered entrance. In the streets, however, Rasinski is +separated from his three companions, who find shelter in the house of a +former servant of Bianca, and there meet with Ludwig’s sister Marie, and +the Countess Micielska, a widowed sister of Rasinski, whom we have not +had occasion previously to mention, although she is a fine enthusiastic +character, and plays no unimportant part in the earlier scenes of the +book. On learning, by letters from their brothers, the burning of Moscow +and probability of retreat, the two ladies braved the severity of a +Lithuanian winter, and left Warsaw for Wilna, where their arrival +coincides with that of Napoleon’s disordered cohorts. Their joy at +meeting Ludwig and Bernard is greatly overcast by the loss of Jaromir +and Boleslaw, and by the absence of Rasinski, whom the two young Germans +vainly seek in the crowded town, until at last, overcome with weariness, +they retire to rest, dissembling, for his sister’s sake, their +uneasiness touching his fate. Scarcely in bed, however, they are aroused +by Paul, their host, who calls their attention to groans and +lamentations in the street without. Arming themselves, they hurry forth +to investigate the cause. + +“Paul, bearing a lantern, preceded them to the spot whence the piteous +sounds proceeded. It was a narrow lane, running parallel to the city +wall, and inhabited entirely by Jews. Just as they turned into it they +were challenged by a manly and well-known voice in their rear. ‘Who goes +there? What is this disturbance?’ + +“‘Rasinski!’ exclaimed Ludwig. Paul turned, and, as the light fell upon +the face of the new comer, the features of the noble Pole were revealed +to his friends. + +“‘Rasinski! you here, and alive!’ cried Ludwig, throwing himself into +the Count’s arms.” + +Here follows, of course, _more Rellstab_, half a page of tender embraces +and gratulations. Then, the groans and lamentations continuing, the +friends again move forward. + +“The lane was narrow and crooked, so that they could not see far before +them. On passing an abrupt bend, they distinguished several figures, +which fled noiselessly before them, like night-birds frightened by the +sudden light, keeping close in the shadow of the wall. + +“‘Who goes there?’ cried Rasinski in Russian. ‘Stand, or I fire!’ + +“But the shadows flew onwards, grazing the wall, and gliding over the +snow. Rasinski rushed after them, stumbled over an object in his path, +fell, and, in his fall, his pistol went off. Ludwig and Bernard, close +at his heels, would have stopped to help him up— + +“‘Forward, forward!’ he cried: ‘follow and catch them.’ + +“They hurried on, but only one figure was now visible. They called to +him to stop; he heeded them not. A shot fired by Bernard missed its +mark, but the whistle of the bullet discomposed the fugitive, who, in +stooping his head, slipped and fell. Ludwig was upon him in an instant, +inquiring who he was, and why he fled. The stranger, who wore a sort of +long black caftan, replied in piteous and terrified tones. + +“‘God of my fathers!’ he cried: ‘have compassion, gracious sir! Why +persecute the poor Jew, who does harm to no one?’ + +“‘Paul, a light!’ cried Bernard, who just then came up. ‘Let us see who +it is that is in such haste to crave mercy. His conscience seems none of +the best.’ + +“Paul lifted the lantern, casting the light full on the Jew’s visage. + +“‘The devil!’ cried Bernard. ‘I should know that face. Where have I seen +the accursed mask? To be sure, those red-bearded Lithuanians are all as +like each other as bullets. But I greatly err, Jew, or you are the spy +with whom we have an account to settle, that has stood over for the last +five months.’ + +“A shout from Rasinski interrupted the speaker. + +“‘Hither, friends!’ he cried; ‘your help here!’ The three hastily obeyed +the summons, dragging the Jew with them in spite of his struggles and +cries. + +“‘Here has been the most villanous crime the world ever witnessed!’ +exclaimed Rasinski, pale with horror and indignation, as his friends +joined him. ‘Behold our comrades, driven out naked in this deadly cold, +plundered, strangled, hurled from the windows! Inhuman monster!’ he +cried in a terrible voice to the trembling Jew, ‘if you have shared in +this work, I will have you torn by dogs. See! here they lie. Horrible, +horrible!’ + +“In a nook formed by the recession of a house from the line of street, +lay eight human bodies, half naked, some with only a shirt or a few +miserable rags to cover them. Over one of these unfortunates, who was +still alive, Rasinski had thrown his furred cloak, to protect him from +the piercing cold. Ludwig and Bernard shuddered at this lamentable +spectacle. + +“‘God of Abraham!’ cried the Jew, ‘to thee I lift up my right hand, and +swear that I am innocent of this deed. May I be accursed with my +children and my grandchildren if I know aught of it! May the ravens pick +out my eyes, and the flesh of my hand wither, if I speak not the truth.’ + +“‘He was amongst the murderers,’ the wounded man faintly gasped out: ‘he +was about to cut my throat, when the fall from the window did not kill +me, and because I called for help. Only your arrival saved me.’ + +“‘Fiend, inhuman fiend! the unspeakable misery that might draw tears +from a demon could not touch you.’ Thus spoke Rasinski between his set +teeth, and raised his sabre to split the skull of the Jew. In +convulsions of terror the miserable wretch embraced his knees, and +prayed for pity. + +“‘God—Jehovah—mercy, noble Count, mercy!’ + +“Ludwig held back Rasinski’s arm. ‘Sully not your good blade with the +monster’s blood,’ he said, earnestly and solemnly. ‘Leave him to the +justice of an omnipotent Avenger.’ + +“‘You are right,’ replied Rasinski, quickly resuming his habitual +composure. ‘Think you I have forgotten?’ said he, with an expression of +the deepest loathing, to the Jew, who still clasped his feet in agony of +fear. ‘I know you well for the base and double traitor who once already +escaped well-merited death. Nothing could save you now, were it not that +even a villain like yourself may be made useful. Begone, and warn your +fellow-assassins, that if to-morrow I find a single dead body, a single +mark of violence in one of their houses, I lay the whole quarter in +ashes,—men, women, and habitations; and I myself will be the first to +hurl the sucking-babe into the devouring flames! Away, dog! Yet will I +mark thee, that thou mayest not escape.’ + +“And raising his foot, he stamped thrice upon the face of the prostrate +Jew, who bellowed like a wild beast, whilst his blood reddened the snow. +Nevertheless, the murderer managed to scramble to his feet, and reach an +adjacent house door, where he stood knocking and calling upon his fellow +Israelites for help and compassion.” + +Count Ségur tells us, that the Jews enticed the unfortunate wounded into +their houses to despoil them, and afterwards, in sight of the Russians, +threw them, naked and dying, out of the doors and windows, leaving them +to perish of cold. + +We approach the final chapters of Mr Rellstab’s romance. Bianca, whose +quality of a Russian noble suffices to protect her and her attendants, +remains with Ludwig, Marie, and her brother at Wilna, after the French +leave it. They then post to Germany without further adventure. Their +last sight of Rasinski is when, mounted on a Cossack horse, by the side +of Marshal Ney, he heads a scanty but determined band, covering the +retreat of the French. He subsequently falls at Leipzig, fighting with +his wonted gallantry under the orders of his countryman Poniatowski. + +From the glimpses of the plot and numerous extracts we have given, the +reader will have small difficulty in forming his own estimate of the +faults and merits of “1812.” We have already commented upon both: upon +the spirit and power often conspicuous in the dialogue and description, +as well as upon the excess of forced coincidences, and upon the +occasional long-windedness and super-sentimentality. However the +interest may here and there, by reason of prolixity, be found to flag, +the book, when once begun, is not likely to be laid aside unfinished. +This alone is saying much for a historical romance in four very long +volumes. There are not many German writers, in that style, of whose +works we would venture the like prediction. And just at present Mr +Rellstab need not apprehend fresh rivals. The year 1848 is unfavourable +to German literature. The country is far too busy revolutionising to +care about belles-lettres. Fictions are ousted by realities, novels by +newspapers, trim octavos by uncouth twopenny pamphlets, polemical and +satirical, attacking and defending, supporting and tearing to pieces, +the numerous schemes afoot for the regeneration of Fatherland. In due +time it will be seen whether the literature of the country is to share +the general improvement so sanguinely anticipated from the recent +changes in a system, under which Germany undeniably has long enjoyed a +very large share of tranquillity and happiness. + + + + + WHAT WOULD REVOLUTIONISING GERMANY BE AT? + + +Many a confirmed wanderer upon Continental highways and byways may have +been long since wearied by the conceitedly-vulgar airs in which old +Father Rhine has indulged himself in latter years, and heartily tired of +his bald vineyards, his melodramatic old ruins, and the make-believe +majesty of his so-called mountains. But still there remained a sort of +spurious halo about his very name; some kindly reminiscence of the time +when, as an enthusiastic youth just escaped from the supposed +commonplace of England, one gazed for the first time upon this famed +show-stream of the Continent, and wondered, and admired, and poetised in +spite of one’s-self, may have cast a charm of early memory upon its +overrated allurements; and, of a surety, there must have been brought a +comfortable glow of pleasure to the heart of any one, except that +nearly-exploded animal, the exclusive exquisite, either male or female, +in witnessing the happy gaping faces of the touristic hordes, who +paddled up and down the well-known old banks—a feeling of ease, comfort, +and even homeishness, in the modern luxuries of the hundred +palace-hotels of the Rhenish towns and villages, in the contented aspect +of the thriving landlord, welcoming the guests who brought him wealth, +and in the ready alertness of the active and obsequious waiters. Well, +Germany has taken into its head to follow in the lead which distracted +France gave, when it madly beckoned with frantic finger to all the +Continent to follow in its wild dance. Germany has caught the St Vitus +of revolution, and danced off, if not as distractedly, at all events in +less connected step, and less defined figure, than its neighbour: and in +this revolutionary frenzy Germany has assumed so ungenial an aspect—a +manner so doubtful, so unpromising, so uncertain, as regards the next +step it may be inclined to take in the jerkings of its abrupt and +unregulated dance—that the gentle tourist-seekers of ease and pleasure +have turned away in disgust from this heavy Meg Merrilees, who has +forgotten even her scraps of song, and her long-pretended spirit of +romance, and declined to visit her until she shall have somewhat +recovered from her drunken fit of revolution, and become more decently +behaved. The Rhine, then, has lost the last charm of foreign bustle and +movement, with which he decked his old head, as with a crown of wild +flowers, not unbecoming his gray hairs. He looks sad, sober, +discontented, disappointed, mourning his lost old joys, and his lost +glories, of which young Germany, in its revolutionary excitement, has +despoiled him. His hotels are empty; landlords, too, have a forlorn air, +and take to rattling their last _groschen_ in their pockets; and unhappy +waiters get fat upon their inactivity, but, at the same time, pale with +ill-humour at their diminished _trinkgelder_, and apprehension of losing +their places altogether. Travellers’ visits have grown, like those of +angels, “few and far between;” and as angels do the poor scanty tourists +appear to be regarded—as munificent beings, in fact, from whom too much +cannot be demanded and expected; for the Rhenish hotel-keepers, in +pursuance of the system adopted by Parisian shopkeepers, in these days +of revolutionary scarcity and destitution, seem determined to make those +unhappy beings, who fall into their clutches, redeem the debt they +appear to consider due to them from those absent tourists, who have not +come to enjoy all the splendours prepared for them. Since Germany, with +its newborn cry for imperial unity, has appeared inclined to turn back +again, in new revolutionary spirit, to old feudal times, the Rhenish +hotel-keepers seem to think that they ought to appear in the characters +of the old robber-knights. This consideration, perfectly personal to a +poor tourist, who has lately paid his _löse-geld_ at many a modern +robber’s stronghold on the Rhine, brings him round, however, to the +question which he has been putting to himself, at every step he has been +taking in Germany—“What would revolutionising Germany be at?” + +What would revolutionising Germany be at? It is a question easily put, +but very difficult to answer. The old joke, lately “freshed-up” to be +applied to the French—namely, that “they don’t know what they want, and +won’t be easy till they get it,” may, with still deeper truth, be +applied to the Germans. In spite of much inquiring conversation with all +men of all ranks, and in all positions of life, it has been quite +impossible for an unimaginative English understanding to discover +exactly, in the midst of all the vague rhapsody, florid discourse, and +poetical politics with which it has been assailed, “what they want.” To +judge by the fermenting spirit every where prevalent, the bombastic and +unpractical dreams—for plans they are not—formed as regards the future, +it would be difficult also not to suppose that “they won’t be easy till +they get it.” + +What would revolutionising Germany be at? In spite of all one sees and +hears, or rather does not hear, it is impossible not to recur to the +question again and again; for, after all, in Germany we are among +thinking men, and, children as they may be in political life, _thinking +men_ they _are_; and, surely, thinking men must have some definite end +and aim to which their thoughts, their hopes, their aspirations, and +their efforts are directed. All the Utopian schemes, all the unpractical +theories of all parties, who put themselves forward in the revolutionary +movement, be their tendencies monarchic, constitutional, or republican, +aspire, then, to the setting up of the ill-defined idol of modern German +political fancies—“German unity”—“One great and powerful united +Germany”—“One great united German Empire”—or whatever name, designation, +or varied shade of name the idol, whose pedestal is “Union,” may bear. +This was the great fancied panacea for all evils, for which men +clamoured, when, in imitation of that distracted city of Paris—so worthy +of imitation, forsooth!—they got up revolutions, and tried their hands +at building barricades. This has been, in truth, long since the +watchword of the German student, when, in the recesses of his +beer-cellar at the university, he collected a set of fellow _fancied_ +enthusiasts around the beer-jugs, imagined this species of club to be a +wonderful conspiracy, because he designated it by the forbidden name of +“_Burschenschaft_,” and deemed himself a notable and formidable +conspirator, because he drank off his _krug_ of beer to the cry of +“Perish all Princes—_es lebe hoch das Deutsche Vaterland_!” The princes, +by the way, were highly complimentary to such conspirators, in +considering them dangerous, and forbidding the existence of the +_Burschenschaften_, which were pretty safety-valves enough to let off +the exuberance of studentic steam. Whether the cry for a “United +Germany” first proceeded again from the mouths of these fantastic +enthusiasts, who, when they found out, to their surprise, that the parts +they had been acting in their mimic dramas of the beer-cellars might be +acted to the life and under the open sky of heaven, became in most parts +of Germany the leaders of the mobs, or the heroes of the barricades, +matters but little; nothing is more like a flock of sheep—although the +term of “a pack of wolves” might often appear more applicable—than the +general herd of men in moments of revolutionary excitement; whatever +conclusion, however far-fetched and fantastic, any old revolutionary +bell-wether may jump at, the flock is sure to follow and jump after him. +It matters, then, but little how or by whom the cry of “United Germany” +was first raised—the whole revolutionary flock immediately set up the +same “baa!” and in each convulsion of each German State, great or small, +in which a revolution may be said to have taken place, among the +grievances which mobs, deputations, or delegates laid before German +princes, as necessary to be forthwith amended and rectified, was the +immediate and indispensable want of a “United Germany.” A somewhat more +decided and definite step towards the possible realisation of this +tolerably vague and indefinite _desideratum_, in the amendment of +people’s wrongs, was taken by the call for the meeting of one united +German parliament, for the purpose of considering and regulating the +affairs of all Germany in this revolutionary crisis; but more especially +of effecting that union in one empire, under one head, or under one form +of government, which appeared to be the great desire of those who now +put themselves forward as the expression of the will of all the German +nation, either as a whole, or in its parts; and which seemed to be +considered as the great unknown remedy for all evils, real or imaginary. +The meeting of the first illegal and self-constituted body, which, in +its impatience to be ruling the destinies of the nation, assembled at +Frankfort under the name of a _Vor-Parlement_, or preliminary +parliament, and, although originally only emanating from a club of +revolutionary spirits at Heidelberg, contrived to impose itself upon +Germany and its princes, and sway the destinies of the land, in +opposition to the old German Diet assembled in the same place—the +proceedings of the _Ausschuss_, or select committee, which the members +of this _Vor-Parlement_ left behind them, to follow up their assumed +authority, when they themselves dispersed,—the constitution of the +present National Assembly, sanctioned by most of the German princes, and +acknowledged as fully legal and supreme in its authority, its members +being elected by universal suffrage,—and its meeting in time to put a +stop to the wild democratic tendencies and reckless proceedings of the +_Ausschuss_, are all matters of newspaper history, and need here no +further detail; they are mentioned only to show what revolutionising +Germany fancies and pretends it would be at, as far as any idea can be +formed from its actions—and the means it would employ to arrive at its +ends. We have got thus far, then, in the solution of our question. +Revolutionising Germany desires, above all things, one great and +powerful union of all its several parts,—the how, when, where, &c., +being as yet very indefinite and unintelligible; and the General +National Assembly is there to settle those important preliminaries. Let +us content ourselves awhile with this very vague and uncertain answer, +and return to old Father Rhine and his neighbourhood, to have some +further idea of the physiognomy of the country under the present +revolutionary auspices, and with the soothing hopes of the realisation +of the grand desideratum of union before the country’s eyes. After +taking this superficial survey of the “outward man,” and judging as far +as we can of his character and temper therefrom, we may then speculate, +perhaps, a little upon his tendencies in his present course; and even go +so far as to attempt to take his hand, and try a trick or two of +palmistry in fortune-telling—not pretending, however, in true gipsy +spirit, to infallibility in foretelling the future, however knowingly +and mysteriously we may shake our heads in so doing. + +Although the Germans cannot be said to have the capabilities of acting +any new part, that they may pretend to take upon themselves, to the +life—and even to the death—with all that reality and energy for which +the French have such an inborn talent, yet they may be looked up to as a +still more symbol-loving people than the latter; and although perhaps +not quite so much “up to” correctness of costume, at least quite as fond +of parading the dress of the new part upon all occasions. The first +thing, consequently, that strikes the tourist, on entering the Germany +of 1848, is the ostentatious display of the new-old imperial, so-called +national cockade, the red, black, and gold colours of the old German +empire. It is not only upon the caps of vapouring students, who begin to +consider themselves more or less the masters of the world, or upon the +hats of hot-headed, _soi-disant_-enthusiastic, poetico-political young +men that the new cockade is now to be seen; it stares you in the face +from the head and breast of almost every man you meet—gray-beard, +middle-aged, or youngster. It is generally from the centre of the cap or +hat, and thus just upon the forehead, that it glares upon you, like the +dark, red, gleaming eye of a new race of Cyclops: almost every male +individual looks like a political Polyphemus. The soldiers are, one and +all, adorned with two cockades, the one of the colours of the individual +country they serve, the other of those of Imperial United Germany. They +have thus two staring, distorted, and unmatched eyes, one over the +other, in the centre of their foreheads. With their two eyes they ought, +one would suppose, to see farther in the mist of the political storm +than other people. The military, however, influenced perhaps by the +example of their aristocratic young officers, have shown themselves, +generally speaking, and markedly so in Prussia, where the revolutionary +movement has been the most decided, recalcitrant towards the so-called +progress of the day, anti-popular in their sympathies, attached only to +the king and individual country they serve, disdainful of the new +central power, the authority of which they do not and will not +comprehend, and of its representatives, whom they regard as a herd of +insolent _schwätzer_, or chatterers—in fact, anti-revolutionary, or, as +it is called in the pet political phrases of the day, which the Germans +have, now more than ever, shown themselves so foolishly eager to borrow +of the French—_retrograd_ and _reactionär_. + +This position of the military, which appears, generally speaking, to be +the same all over the country, is, to say the best, a very ticklish and +equivocal one, and promises but little for the future internal peace of +United Germany. Orders, however, have been given by such authorities as +still are,—and in the first instance by weak, uncertain, vacillating, +and now disappointed Prussia,—that the military should do their homage +to the ideas of the day, by wearing the imperial cockade, if not in lieu +of, at all events in addition to, that which they had heretofore +considered as their national symbol: and the double Polyphemus eye of +the soldier is one of the most striking and startling evidences of the +unsteady and contending spirit of the times, that meet the eye of the +tourist in Germany of to-day. Even more than the students—who are still, +however, sufficiently remarkable both in costume and manner in these +days of unrestricted movement and opinion—you will find a certain set of +men, whose physiognomy of race is so strongly marked by some +indescribable peculiarity of type, whatever be their colour or form of +feature, as to render them unmistakeable, and who make the most flaring +display of the imperial national colours, now so strangely converted +into the symbol of a revolutionary spirit, be it in cockade, or band, or +button-hole decoration. These are the Jews. They are positively lavish +in their display of ribbon. Ever since the revolution has begun its +dubious and unsteady course throughout Germany, it has been, invariably +and everywhere, the Jews who have displayed the strongest revolutionary +spirit, the most decided republican tendencies, the most acrimonious +hatred against the “powers that be,” and the most virulent efforts +towards the subversion of the existing state of things. What may have +been the cause of the outburst of this spirit in an essentially trading +and money-getting people, whose commercial advantages, in whatever +branch they may lie, must be so completely compromised, if not +altogether ruined, by revolutionary movements and their consequences, it +would be difficult in a superficial sketch to say: it may be conjectured +to have arisen simply from a spirit of revenge against the exclusive +upper classes of Germany, who have so long treated their sect, proud of +its wealth, and seeking influence from its power, with cutting repulsion +and contempt. The fact, however, is as stated; the most active +revolutionary spirits engaged in the task of pulling down and +destroying, as far as was possible, have been every where the Jews; the +avowed republicans may chiefly be found among men of their persuasion; +the clamour, the attack, and the denunciation, chiefly still proceed +from Jewish mouths and Jewish pens. Those who now march forward, then, +the most boldly, hand in hand in strange conjunction, along the +precipitous path of revolutionary movement, are the students and the +Jews. If you unwisely allow one of the latter to lay hold of an unlucky +button of your coat in a steamboat, he will be sure to endeavour, with +his peculiar twang, to insinuate into you all the wildest +ultra-revolutionary doctrines: the former will keep more apart from you, +and herd in knots; but, when they get drunk, instead of vapouring vague, +incomprehensible, _soi-disant_ Kantian philosophy, as of yore, they will +bellow still more vague and incomprehensible political theories about +United Germany. It is these two classes of beings, then, who make the +most ostentatious parade of the national cockades that flash across our +eyesight. + +The fate of this cockade has been a very strange one, by the way, in +latter years. The red, black, and gold combination was long formally +proscribed in universities, as deleterious and dangerous, and typical of +the forbidden _Burschenschaften_: it was worn only in secret and by +stealth, by recalcitrant would-be revolutionary students. All on a +sudden it has been raised on high in flag and banner, waving not only in +revolutionary procession, but from palace walls, and tops of public +buildings. The cockade has not only been authorised, but enjoined; and +in a late reactionary movement in Berlin,—when, out of jealousy and +spite towards a central power, that had chosen its executive head from +southern and not northern Germany, a considerable public feeling was +exhibited against the imperial national flag, and in favour of the +Prussian colours exclusively—the government, or rather the king himself, +was obliged, for fear of an outbreak of the students, to command the +resumption of those colours in flag and cockade, which, but a little +while ago, he himself had proscribed. The pride of the young +_soi-disant_ heroes at being openly able to parade that symbol which +they cherished only heretofore as fancied conspirators, may be easily +conceived: and, now these boy-men find that they can dictate to the +princes of the earth, not only upon the matter of flags and cockades, +but upon matters of far graver note, there is no knowing to what height +of presumption this pride may not still further lead them. + +If, now, we look around us to note the general physiognomy of the +people, we shall find many other little traits, that mark these +revolutionary times in Germany. The common people, more especially upon +the Rhine, and in many parts of the duchy of Baden—the common people, +formerly so smiling, so ready, so civil, perhaps only too obsequious in +their signs of respect, have grown insolent and rude: ask them a +question, and they will scarcely deign to bestow upon you an answer: in +many instances they will shrug their shoulders, laugh in your face, and +then turn their back upon you. On the contrary the public officials, the +government _beamten_, have considerably lowered that arrogance of tone +for which they formerly possessed a not unmerited evil repute, and will +answer your inquiries with civil words and smiling faces. Such, however, +is the natural see-saw movement of manners in revolutionary times, in +the lower and lower-middle classes; and as far as regards the latter +effect of revolutionary movement, no tourist in Germany will be disposed +to complain of the change. + +Over the middle and upper classes, at the same time, there has fallen a +very visible gloom. That uncertainty of the future, which is +proverbially far more difficult for moral strength to bear than any +certain evil, has had the very evident effect, to the least observant +eye, of depressing the spirits of “all manner of men.” The _hope_ +appears to exist only in the theoretical fancies of the excited liberal +politician,—the _enthusiasm_ only in the wild dreams of the declaiming +student. The prevailing impression is one of all the dulness of doubt +and the stupor of apprehension. Talk to people of the state of the +country, and they will either shake their heads with a grunt, or openly +express their fears about the future: and those fears are none the less +active because they are so vague—none the less depressing because they +wear the mysterious, visionary, and consequently awful form which the +dim distance of complete uncertainty imparts. + +Another change, again, in the manners of the people, is in the +politicising spirit, so uncongenial in times gone by to the Germans, +which, in most great towns, seems now to have so completely absorbed +them. It is to be found not only in the low clubs, and in the insensate +pothouse debates, but in the eagerness to crowd round the revolutionary +addresses, which are posted by ultra-liberals at street corners, in the +anxiety to read the last revolutionary disquisition of the new radical +journal, in all its glory of large sheet and full columns, which has +taken the place of the innocent and patriarchal little _Volks-blatt_, +that was before the study and delight of the humble burgher; and in the +malicious enjoyment with which the political caricature, railing at +prince or men in power, is studied at the shop window, and the feverish +importance that is attached to it. + +All these characteristic signs and changes will meet the eye of the +tourist if he even go no farther than the confines of the Rhine, and the +old city of Cologne. There at once is that depression visible to which +allusion has already been made. It is visible in the aspect of the +fallen half-ruined shopkeeper, of the disconsolate master of the hotel, +and, above all, of the anxious labourer upon the progress of that mighty +work, the completion of which evil times seem again to render an +impossible task—the Cologne cathedral. Funds for the further progress of +the great undertaking already begin to fail; and these are not times to +seek them from the munificence either of states or private individuals. +The _Baumeister_, who has spent the greater part of a life upon the +wonderful task of working out the completion of this miracle of Gothic +art,—whose whole soul has been concentrated upon this one object,—the +breath of whose very existence seems to depend upon the growth of this +foster-child of his fancy, for which alone he has lived,—now shakes his +head, like the consumptive man whose presentiments tell him that his +last hour is nigh, and who despairs of escaping his doom. The +revolutionary wind has blown like the plague-blast over the land: he +feels that his hand must soon fall powerless before the neglect, or even +ill-will of the newborn age of revolutionary liberty, and that he must +disperse abroad that band of artist-workmen whom he has fashioned and +educated to the noble work, and whom, in their completeness of artistic +intelligence, none perhaps, in future years, may be able again to +collect together. The cathedral, however, has proceeded to a certain +point, at which the whole interior may be enclosed; and there, in all +probability, the progress of the works will be checked for the present. +The consecration of the new part of the building, in this state, has +already taken place; but, even in these ceremonies, the revolutionary +modern spirit of Germany has not forgotten to assert its influence: the +deputation sent to them by the Prussian Assembly refused to join to +itself a Catholic ecclesiastic; and yet it was seriously proposed at the +same time, by the arrangers of the ceremonial _programme_, that the +monarchs who were expected to be present upon the occasion should mount +upon the roof of the cathedral, and there take an oath to preserve the +unity of Germany, which oath was to be blessed and ratified by the Pope, +who was to be invited to come over to Cologne for the purpose. The Pope +has had other deeds and other revolutionary tendencies to bless or to +ban in his own dominions; but this little trait, culled from the first +_programme_ of the consecration of the Cologne cathedral, may be taken, +at the same time, as a slight specimen of the wild poetico-political +freaks of theoretically revolutionising Germany. + +Let us wend our way a little farther. Without attempting to take any +precise survey of Prussia and Austria, the continued fermenting and +agitated state of which countries is the topic of every-day newspaper +notice, and consequently without venturing upon any description of the +poisonous and ulcerating sores continually breaking out upon the face of +the fair and once healthy cities of Berlin and Vienna, the ignorant +tumult of the parliamentary meetings assembled in them, the noisy +fermentation of the ultra-revolutionary and republican clubs, the +symbolical but dangerous demonstrations of hot-headed students and other +unripe and unquiet spirits, the continual struggle and clash of parties +accusing each other reciprocally of utterly subversive or +counter-revolutionary and reactionary tendencies, and the constantly +threatened danger of fresh convulsions, with further ruin to trade, and +consequently to the well-being of the country at large—without, then, +painting to ourselves a well-known and notorious picture, let us cast +our eyes over the outward aspect of some of the smaller states. + +Nothing, in the first place, can be more uneasy and disquieting than the +appearance of the Duchy of Baden. In Heidelberg, ultra-revolutionary +students have come to a total schism with their moderately and vaguely +revolutionary professors; and it is at present difficult to see how any +understanding is to be effected between teacher and scholar, so as to +render the university a seat of learning of any other kind than that of +subversive principles. In this part of Germany the revolutionary +fermentation appears far more active, and is far more visible in the +manner, attitude, and language of the lower classes, than even in those +hotbeds of revolutionary movement, Austria and Prussia. To this state of +things the confinity with agitated France, and consequently a more +active affinity with its ideas, caught like a fever from a next-door +neighbour’s house, the agency of the emissaries from the +ultra-republican Parisian clubs, who find an easier access across the +frontiers—not without the cognisance, and, it would now seem, as was +long suspected, with the aid also of certain influential members of the +Provisional Government of France—and the fact also that the unhappy +duchy has been, if not the native country, at least the scene of action +of the republican insurgents Hecker and Struve—have all combined to +contribute. It is impossible to enter the duchy and converse with the +peasant population, formerly and proverbially so peacefully disposed in +patriarchal Germany, without finding the poison of these various +influences gathering and festering in all their ideas, words, and +actions. The prostration of spirit, generally speaking, among the middle +and trading classes, the discouragement, the uncertain fear, are even +still more apparent here than on the lower Rhine; and the gloom appears +the greater, from all we see and hear, the higher we mount upon the +social ladder. The proud and exclusive German nobility, who have so long +slept cradled in the pride and exclusiveness of their courtly +prerogatives and privileges, now waken to see an abyss before and behind +them, a precipice at every step. How far they may have merited the +terrors of utter ruin to their fortunes as well as their position, by +their long contemptuous exclusion from their intercourse and society of +all who had not the magic key to secure admission to them, in the shape +of the privileged particle denoting nobility, whatever was the talent +and the worth of the despised unprivileged—and to this state of things, +even up to the present day, there have been very few exceptions at +German courts, and much less in German high society—how far they have +themselves prepared the way for their present position, by their wilful +blindness to the progress of ideas in the world, are not questions to be +discussed here. Their present apprehension and consternation are very +apparent in every word and action, however much the younger generation, +and especially those of it who may be military men, may bluster and talk +big, and defy: they fly away to their country houses, if they have them, +economise, retrench, and pinch, in preparation for that change in +circumstances and position which seems to be approaching them like a +spectre. The little capitals of Carlsruhe and Stuttgardt, with their +small ducal and royal courts, certainly never exhibited any picture of +great animation or bustle even in their most flourishing times; but the +gloom that now hangs over them is assuredly very different from the +peaceful, although somewhat torpid quietude in which they heretofore +reposed: their dulness has become utter dreariness; their lady-like +old-maidish decent listlessness a sort of melancholy bordering upon +despair. Princes and people look askance at one another: people suffer; +and princes think right to retrench. The theatres of these little +capitals are about to be closed, because they are considered to be too +expensive popular luxuries in the present state of things, and onerous +appendages to court charges. Sovereigns cut down their households and +their studs; and queens shut themselves close up in their summer +residences, declaring themselves too poor to visit German +watering-places, and support the expenses of regal _toilette_. In +Stuttgardt these symptoms are all peculiarly visible. Spite of the +long-acquired popularity of the King of Wurtemberg, as a liberal, +well-judging, and rightly-minded monarch towards his subjects, the wind +of revolution, that has blown in such heavy gusts in other parts of +Germany, has not wholly spared that kingdom; and before accomplishing +the intention attributed to him of retiring, in order to avoid those +revolutionary demands which, in spite of his best intentions, he +declares himself unable conscientiously to meet, the present king puts +in practice those measures of retrenching economy, which add to the +gloom of his capital and the disconsolate look of the court-attached and +commercial portion of his subjects. It is scarcely possible, however, to +suppose that the King of Wurtemberg can seriously think of abdicating in +favour of a son whose youthful actions have always rendered him highly +unpopular, all the more so as he is married to a Russian archduchess, +whose birth must render her _suspecte_ to the liberals of the day. +Another cause, which contributes to the melancholy and deserted air of +these capitals of the smaller German courts, is the retirement of the +ambassadors and diplomatic agents of the other German courts, who, if +not already recalled from their posts, will probably shortly be so, to +meet the views of German unity, which needs but one representative in +common. This unhappy look of the little German capitals is one of the +most melancholy signs of the times in these smaller states. In Hanover +and Brunswick the apparent resolution of their present rulers, to resist +the power of the new Central Government of would-be united Germany, +occasions agitation, uncertainty, and fear, which make themselves as +fully apparent in outward symptoms as elsewhere. Bavaria alone appears +to preserve an exceptional position. Bavaria also has had her +revolution, to be sure; but, strange to say, the revolution was +occasioned by the manœuvres of the anti-liberal, or, in that country, +Jesuitical party, against the liberal tendencies of a wild woman’s +influence over the mind of the king; and, singular as was the nature and +cause of this revolution, singular has remained the situation of +Bavaria, quiet, unagitated, and seemingly contented, in the midst of the +convulsive hurly-burly passing every where around it. + +After this cursory survey of the outward aspect of a great part of +Germany, let us turn our eyes to Frankfort, the present central point of +all interest and attention; for there sits the General National +Assembly; there is to be brewed, by whatever recipe, or in whatever +manner it may be, that fancied panacea for all evils, the Union of +Germany: there, then, we may probably best learn what revolutionising +Germany would be at, or, at all events, best see the means employed to +arrive at something like a consummation. Let us first look at the cooks +at their work; and then taste the nature of the brew, as far as their +political culinary efforts have gone to “make the medley slab and good.” + +Let us enter, then, that plain, dry, and harsh-looking circular +building, which is the Lutheran Church of St Paul; it is there the +Assembly holds its sittings. The interior arrangement has been fashioned +entirely upon the plan of the French Chambers. The President’s tribune, +the lower tribune of the orator before it, the gradually rising and +diverging amphitheatre of seats for the members, are all entirely French +in their plan. Completely French also, and with similar designation, is +the political shading of the members according to their seats; the +_Droit_, the _Centre_ in its variety of progressing _nuances_, and the +_Gauche_ and _Extreme Gauche_ have the same signification in the German +Assembly as in the French. Nor does the resemblance cease here; the +constitution of the Assembly, in its various elements, has a strong +affinity to that of the present French National Assembly. The majority +of the members are evidently concentrated in the different shades of the +_Centre_. The old conservatives of the right have but little influence, +except as a make-weight against the ultra-liberals. The centre consists +chiefly of the old liberals, and opposition leaders in the different +chambers of such of the German states as possessed constitutions of one +modification or another—men who have now, in turn, in their position +towards the ultra-revolutionary spirits, that tendency which may be +called liberal conservative: they are the men of progress, who, in the +present hurricane of revolutionary ideas, endeavour to guide the helm so +as to avoid the very rocks they have had so great a hand in raising, and +to restrain the very waves which their own breath has so greatly +contributed to lash into fury! They are the Odillon Barrots, and +suchlike old liberals of Germany. They find that the task before them is +one of far ruder difficulty than in their theoretical fancies they had +first imagined; and many of them there may be, who cannot but +acknowledge to themselves, however little they may be inclined to +acknowledge it to the world, that the business of a vast nation is not +to be conducted by inexperienced heads, however talented, however well +they may have conducted the business of a counting-house, or taught +theories from a professor’s chair—in fact, that theory and practice will +not walk hand in hand without a long process of amalgamating experience. +The left is occupied by the men of revolutionary utopics and crude +subversive opinions; and in its extreme by the ardent republicans and +tribunes of the people, whom the revolution has caused to spring out of +the political soil like mushrooms. These are the men who complain, in +speech or in journal, that the Assembly is wasting its time in vain +vapid disputations—an accusation, by the way, by no means unfounded—and +yet themselves, when ever they mount into the tribune, indulge, more +than any others, in declamatory would-be poetical phrases, “full of +sound and fury, signifying nothing,” and containing not one practical +idea, or feasible proposal. They seem to think that, by ringing the +changes upon certain pet words, such as “patriotism” and “nationality,” +they have said great things and done great deeds for the good of the +country; and, as far as such clap-trap efforts to gain popular applause +go, they may fairly be said to obtain their ends. In this again they +have a strong “cousin-german” resemblance with the French ultras in a +similar position—and no less so in their endeavours to overawe and +browbeat the majority of the Assembly by noisy exclamations, and even +uproarious riot. The German ultras, however, have succeeded, to a great +extent, in a manœuvre in which their French brethren have failed, +although supported in it, at first, by a certain reckless member of the +Provisional Government—that is to say, in packing the public galleries +with acolytes, said to be paid, who, while they applaud all +ultra-revolutionary speeches “to the echo,” endeavour to put down the +conservative orators by tumult, or violent hissings, and are of course +vaunted forth in the ultra-liberal journals as “the expression of the +will of the nation.” Be it said, at the same time, _en passant_, that +this manner of applauding by the clapping of hands, and expressing +disapproval by hissing, has been borrowed from a habit of the members of +the Assembly themselves, which has certainly a very unparliamentary +appearance and sound to English eyes and ears. This use of the public +galleries, which, in spite of the regulations of the Assembly, it has +been found impossible altogether to put down, has assuredly a certain +influence in overawing and intimidating some of the members of the +majority. Two causes, however, have contributed to preserve the Assembly +from utter anarchy and confusion. The first of these, a negative one, +consists in the fact that Frankfort is not a great noisy stirring +capital of a great country, where a mob is always at hand to be used as +a tyrannical influence by the leaders of the people, and that there are +no suburbs filled with a working population, whence, as in Paris, an +insurgent army may be suddenly recruited to work mischief, when it may +have no other work to do. The second, a direct and active one, arises +from the personality of the President of the Assembly; and certainly it +is in the personal qualities and physical advantages of the Herr von +Gagern, as much as in his position, and from the esteem in which he is +held, that his power to dominate, control, and will to order, very +greatly consists. + +The President Gagern, long known as the most talented and leading +opposition member of the Darmstadt Chamber, has passed his life in his +energetic attempts to further those constitutional liberties, which he +would now check with powerful hand, that they may not go too far. +Disappointed and disgusted with his fruitless efforts to promote what he +considered the interests of his country, the Herr von Gagern had +retired, for some time past, into private life, when, upon the breaking +forth of the revolutionary storm, he was called upon by his prince to +take the helm of affairs, and, as minister, to steer the bark along the +current by which he might avoid the Scylla of ultra-democracy as much as +the Charybdis of resistance to the progress of the age. In this new +character he again appeared upon the stage of the political world; and +he has only retired from his post, as he has since refused to accept +office as minister of the new central executive power of all Germany, in +order to maintain the position, to which he was raised by acclamation, +as the controlling head of that Assembly which was to decide the +destinies of the country, and from the councils of which he himself had +fondly hoped to see emanate the welfare of united Germany. + +Tall and stout, with a face which possesses a decision and firmness of +character, much aided by a pair of very broad black brows, Herr von +Gagern has, at the same time, a bold dignity of manner and gesture, +which is well calculated to rule an Assembly, and a powerful voice, +which knows how to make itself heard in a storm: a ready and simple +eloquence, and a clear good sense, which fastens upon the right point at +the right moment, are combined with these advantages of exterior +appearance; and as he rises, in cases of emergency, to display a vigour +of energy, rather than that system of conciliation so fatally used in +France, and so impracticable amidst all the clashing party opinions of a +revolutionary Assembly, he shows himself to be the man of the moment, +and of the place. He may be said to be the saviour of the German +National Assembly, inasmuch as his personal influence may be considered +to have rescued it from that state of anarchy and confusion which now +disgraces the French chamber, and into which the German Assembly, with +its conflicting elements, and its still greater inexperience, seemed at +first about to fall. + +As it is, the German National Assembly can by no means be looked upon as +a model of parliamentary order: it is still noisy, ill-regulated, and +uncertain in its movements. It cannot be denied, at the same time, that +sufficient individual talent may be found among its members. Among the +rising men of the day, the orators of Prussia and the smaller northern +states, (for Southern Germany has as yet produced but little striking +talent,)—along with those young, ardent, and energetic men who, the +conspirators and insurgents of a few months ago, have gone over to the +liberal conservative majority, and the people’s orators, who aim at +being the O’Connells of Germany, as their phraseology goes, and who, in +spite of the impracticable nature of their tenets, and the frequently +vapid nature of their declamation, have a certain, rude ready eloquence, +that strives to be poetical—there are also a few practised statesmen, a +few wary old men of action, and several well-known authors and poets, +such as old Uhland, whose democratic ardour still keeps, him upon the +benches of the left, and the Count Auersperg, well known under the name +of Anastatius Grün, whom disappointments in his position, in society are +supposed also to have driven into the ultra-democratic ranks. But there +seems to be an utter want of purpose in most of the speeches which +emanate from the lips of these men of talent. Proverbially vague in +their philosophical theories, even when they make most pretensions to +clearness, the Germans show themselves still more so in their political +views. The speeches not only of the ultra-liberals, but of the would-be +statesmen of the centre, appear mere compilations of “words, words, +words,” without any tangible argument or practical proposal: it is +rarely that it is possible to sift from the readily flowing, but +generally most muddy stream, a sand of gold, that may be used as one of +sterling worth in the crown of unity which the hands of the Assembly +would be forging. In all that emanates from the Assembly, either in +debate or in decree, there is generally a lamentable want of correctly +defined purpose: and, in fact, to return to the point from which we have +started, it is as difficult to discover from the vague, wavering, +boggling proceedings of the Assembly, as from any other quarter, or from +any other movement, precisely what revolutionising Germany would be at. +Up to the present time, like the Provisional Government of France, it +has rather attempted to rule aristocratically itself, than to prepare +the way, as was its object, for the future definitive constitution of +Germany. The only definite step it has yet taken towards that vague +_desideratum_, a “United Germany,” has been in the appointment of a +Provisional Executive Head, and of a cabinet of ministers at its +direction. + +Except in as far as regards the jealousy of Prussia, disappointed in its +hopes of itself giving the head to the Imperial government, and inclined +in consequence to quarrel with the dictates of that central power, for +which it clamoured, and which it at least accepted not ungraciously, as +long as it thought, with true Prussian conceit, that the head must +necessarily emanate from itself—a jealousy to which reference will be +made further on—the choice of the Austrian Archduke John, as +Administrator or Protector of the Government of United Germany, whatever +his charge may be called, (for the German term “Reichs Verweser” +expresses in itself both these attributive designations,) cannot be +looked upon as one of any political weight. As a prince, enjoying for +many years past a certain popularity, more perhaps from a feeling of +opposition, because he was considered as living upon ill terms with the +Imperial court of Austria, than from any personal attachment to himself, +the Archduke John may be considered to be well selected as a popular and +generally accepted head of Germany: whether he possesses either the +talent or the energy to fill so strange and awfully responsible a post +in the present disturbed state of Germany is another question, which +only those who have known him in the retirement of private life can +answer. The political writer who designated him as the Duke of Sussex of +Austria, made a happy hit in thus classifying him. The Archduke John has +rendered himself popular by his patronage and furtherance of scientific +institutions: but he has been too little known, otherwise than as the +discarded and disgraced of the Imperial family, to be called in any way +“the man of the people.” The marriage, which was the cause of his +disgrace, was thus, likewise, the cause of his popularity, such as it +was: the union of an Imperial prince with a girl of comparatively humble +birth—a union about the origin of which so many absurdly fabulous tales +have been told—flattered the instincts of the middle and lower classes. +The Archduchess, however, who now finds herself elevated still more, to +a pinnacle to which her wildest dreams could scarcely have led her, and +who is now flattered, caressed, and done homage to, as she was before +set aside, is said to reveal nothing of any humble origin, and to be as +lady-like as sensible in manner. Upon the whole, then, it is not in the +wholly provisional and most unstable appointment of the Archduke John as +“Reichs Verweser” that we shall find any solution to the inquiry as to +the more certain revolutionary tendencies of Germany. + +Assuredly more ought to be gathered from the appointment of the new +central cabinet, and more especially of its Minister for Foreign Affairs +and leading member, Prince Leiningen: and naturally we look to the +recent manifesto of the prince as a document from which we may best +learn “what revolutionising Germany would be at.” Sensible and clear, or +at all events as little confused as is possible in the present confused +state of all theories, plans, and reasonings in Germany, the manifesto, +in doing no more than pointing out two methods towards effecting the +reconstruction of Germany, leaves every thing as regards the future in +as vague and uncertain a state as before. It only states a dilemma—it +does not attempt to resolve it. It puts Germany in a cleft stick, or +rather, at the division of two paths, the greater merit or +practicability of either of which it does not attempt to show very +decisively, by its concluding words, “_Entweder, Oder!_ choose!” In +fact, it does no more than ask with ourselves, “What would +revolutionising Germany be at?” + +It may be surmised, certainly, from the manifesto of Prince Leiningen, +that he himself is really inclined towards the going forward in the +uncertain course of doing _something_ towards the effectuation of the +desired union, although he by no means pretends to recommend _how_ this +is to be done. He seems—and his acceptation of office would in itself +appear to confirm the fact—a partisan of what he defines somewhat +confusedly as “an actual union of all the component parts of the whole, +in such a manner as to avert the possibility of any dispute between the +whole and the parts;” for he adds, “If any other course be pursued, not +singleness or unity, but discord and separation will be established.” +But in the alternative which he places before Germany, of either +returning to the past, or of realising the uncertain and as yet +undefined desideratum of a great union for the future, it would seem, +whatever be the prince’s own meaning, or whatever may be supposed to be +the means used by the Assembly to produce a united whole, that he only +places before it at the same time the alternative of a civil war, at +which he himself hints, or a republican constitution, which must appear +to be the result of the progress in its present sense, of +revolutionising Germany. + +When we hear that “to retrograde to a confederation of states, or to +establish a weak federal state, by a powerfully impressed independence +of the individual states, would only be to create a mournful period of +transition to fresh catastrophes and new revolutions;” that from such a +course of proceeding would result the danger “of harbouring in Germany +revolutionary movements, or perchance civil war, for a series of years;” +that the nation would arrive at “the most undesirable consummation of +rendering itself ridiculous for ever by trumpeting to the world German +unity and German power, and presenting in reality a spectacle the very +reverse”—when we hear that “no dynastic interests can be taken into +consideration if the nation wills unity;” that “to construct a new +empire, and at the same time to permit an organisation tending to an +inevitable contest for the supreme sovereignty between the individual +states, would be to sow disunion instead of unity, to create weakness +instead of power;” and that, consequently, “the imperial power must, in +a degree, absorb in itself the sovereignty of the individual states, +abolish the diplomatic intercourse of the individual states at home and +abroad, and concentrate it in its own hands, appropriate to itself the +unconditional disposal of the national forces, and not allow governments +or their constituent State Assemblies to occupy themselves with affairs +appertaining to the National Assembly alone, since a perfectly +established central state, in which other perfectly established states +are encased, would be virtually a monstrosity,”—when we hear all these +things, and weigh the tendency of their views, we can see in them no +other result than the abasement of the individual sovereigns, an +absorption of their power, which would leave them no more than useless +and ridiculous puppets, and, consequently, their inevitable overthrow in +the course of time, and the establishment of republican institutions, +whatever the name given to the new form of republic, whatever the title +bestowed upon its head, be it even Emperor, or _Reichs Verweser_, +Regent, Protector, Administrator, or President. + +On the other hand, when we are told—although “jealousies between +individual states, and revilings of the northern by the southern parts +of the empire” are stigmatised as “criminal absurdities”—that, “if the +many collateral and coexistent interests are too preponderant to be +sacrificed to German unity, if the old spirit of discord and separation +is still too powerfully at work, if the jealousy between race and race, +between north and south, is still too strongly felt, the nation must +convince itself of the fact, and return to the old federal system,” +already hinted at as _impossible_ without fresh revolutions or long +civil wars; and when we know, at the same time, that these jealousies +between state and state not only _do_ exist, but continue to increase +and ferment still more in the present state of things,—that in fact, the +old spirit of discord and separation is still more powerfully at work +than ever,—what can we look forward to? Only the other alternative to +which we have alluded—those civil wars which the manifesto of Prince +Leiningen itself hints at so cautiously. + +Since, from the very first commencement of the revolution in Germany, +the jealous spirit between the northern and southern states broke out in +a decided form, it has only increased instead of diminishing. When the +vacillating but ambitious King of Prussia, desirous of coming forward as +the “man of Germany” of the day, but “infirm of purpose,” attempted to +direct the revolutionary movement in his own states by accepting the +call for a United German Empire, and by placing himself, although +unavowedly, at its head, the Austrian _Official_ Gazette immediately +fulminated a severe, damning, and, under the circumstances, almost cruel +manifesto against the ambitious Prussian monarch; in Bavaria, the young +men of the upper classes burnt his majesty in effigy in the public +market-place of Munich; at Stuttgardt, the picture of the offending +sovereign was as publicly hung by the neck to a gallows. Southern +Germany was indignant at the thought that an upstart King of Prussia +should attempt to lead the movement for a new United Empire of Germany, +and presume even to dream of being its future emperor. But when, in the +course of events, the provisional head of the newly constituted central +power was chosen by the assembly from among the princes of Southern +Germany, it was the turn of Prussia to exhibit its spite and anger: its +jealousy was not to be concealed. The result of the disappointed +ambition of Prussia was exhibited, as already alluded to, in a +reactionary feeling against that central power, which it would have +accepted probably with acclamation, and been the first to applaud and +support, had it emanated from its own country. The exhibition of this +feeling in some violent outbreak was so much dreaded upon the occasion +of the military homage appointed to be shown to the _Reichs Verweser_ at +Berlin, that the ceremony, as is well known, was obliged to be +countermanded. The feeling is now still continuing to be shown in a +constant exhibition of mistrust on the part of Prussia towards the +National Assembly, and as well as in the counter-accusation of that new +and vaguely defined political crime “reaction,” laid by the journals of +the moderate party, as well as by the ultra-liberals, to the charge of +Prussia. With all these conflicting elements at work between the various +parts of Germany, and again between these various parts and the central +power, placed in the hands of the Assembly, it is very difficult to look +clearly as yet towards any possible constitution of that unity which +would appear to be the most vague end and aim of the revolution in +Germany. To those who attempt to look into the mist of the future, and +see visions, and dream dreams—for, in the present state of the cloudy +and wavering political horizon, it would seem that all political +foresight can pretend to no better name than that—the nearer of the two +alternatives to be deduced from Prince Leiningen’s manifesto, would +appear to be the disunion, the total rupture, the civil war. + +The other alternative, however, seems not without its chances; for, +although the old liberals of republican tendencies, the suspected and +imprisoned, have now been brought round, for the most part, into the +ranks of the moderately progressive party, in the natural course of +revolutionary changes, or even been called to the councils of the kings +and princes who rejected and persecuted them; yet, on the other hand, +the exertions of the moderate party, in spite of the clog that they +would now put upon the too rapid course of ultra-democracy, appear to +tend, in the efforts made, and the views entertained respecting the +unity of Germany, towards the very republican institutions which they +disavow, and suppose themselves endeavouring to avoid. The real +republicans, at the same time, although without any present weight among +the political spirits of the day, are yet composed, as elsewhere, of the +young, hot-headed, reckless, active, stirring elements of the time, and +are always ready to make up, by violence and headlong precipitation, for +what they want in importance and experience. They are aided also in +their views by a certain party of the liberal press, which is always +preaching the imitation of French institutions and the conduct of the +present leading men in France,—as if France and the French did not hold +up a lesson and a warning instead of models for imitation—and consoling +Germany with the idea, that although it does not possess such enviable +men or measures, the men must shortly rise upon the political surface, +and that the measures will follow behind them. By a great portion of the +press, even that of the moderate party also, a continual irritation of +suspicion and mistrust is being kept up against the still reigning +sovereigns of Germany; and the cry of that very vague accusation +“reaction,” the name of which alone, however, is considered sufficiently +damning, is constantly raised upon every movement, of whatever nature it +may be, which those sovereigns may make. The moderate party may be +acquitted of republican tendencies in their hearts; but they seem to +ignore the old proverb, “give a dog a bad name,” and the consequences; +and they will make “sad dogs” out of the sovereigns, until at last the +consequences will threaten more and more nearly. + +Between these two alternatives, however, Germany seems to think that it +may find a middle course, and establish its theoretical and vaunted +unity without exciting civil dissension, or plunging into the depths of +republicanism. May it prove right in its as yet uncertain hopes; but +certainly the means by which this desired consummation is to be arrived +at, are not in the least degree visible: it remains as yet the vaguest +of vague fancies—the how, the where, the when, and even the why, are as +yet matters of doubt: not only deeds but principles, not only principles +but plans, to this intent, are as yet utterly absent. In fact our +question, after all, remains unanswered; and, beyond the main point of +“unity,” to be effected somehow or other, revolutionising Germany seems +utterly unable to tell us, as we vainly endeavour to find out +definitively, “what it would be at?” + + + _Printed by William Blackwood and Sons, Edinburgh._ + +----- + +Footnote 1: + + See our No. for March 1848. + +Footnote 2: + + Hide—from _cacher_. + +Footnote 3: + + Carrion. + +Footnote 4: + + In Frémont’s expedition to California, on a somewhat similar occasion, + two mountaineers, one the celebrated Kit Carson, the other a St Louis + Frenchman named Godey, and both old trappers, performed a feat + surpassing the one described above, inasmuch as they were but two, who + charged into an Indian village to rescue some stolen horses, and + avenge the slaughter of two New Mexicans who had been butchered by the + Indians; both which objects they effected, returning to camp with the + lost animals and a couple of propitiatory scalps. + +Footnote 5: + + The Mexicans call the Indians living near the Missions and engaged in + agriculture, _mansos_, or _mansitos_, tame. + +Footnote 6: + + From a manuscript obtained in Santa Fé of New Mexico, describing the + labours of the missionaries Fray Augustin Ruiz, Venabides, and Macos, + in the year 1585. + +Footnote 7: + + “Some were so barbarous as to eat their own species.” The sentence + refers to the Scythians, and is in Strabo. I mention the authority, + for Strabo is not an author that any man engaged on a less work than + the History of Human Error is expected to have by heart. + +Footnote 8: + + _Memoirs of the Reign of George II., from his Accession to the Death + of Queen Caroline._ By JOHN LORD HERVEY. Edited, from the original + MSS. at Ickworth, by the Right Hon. J. W. CROKER. 2 vols. Murray, + London: 1848. + +Footnote 9: + + “Upon the evening of this long day’s march, the imperial column + approaching Gjatz was surprised to find upon the road the bodies of + Russians quite recently slain, all with their heads cloven in the same + manner, and with their brains scattered around. It was known that two + thousand prisoners preceded the column, escorted by Spaniards, + Portuguese, and Poles. Various opinions were emitted; some were + indignant, others approved or remained indifferent, according to the + character of each. Around the Emperor these different impressions + found no voice, until Caulaincourt burst out and exclaimed, ‘that it + was an atrocious cruelty. This, then, is the civilisation we bring to + Russia! What effect would this barbarity have upon the enemy? Did we + not leave him our wounded and a host of prisoners? Would he lack the + opportunity of horrible reprisals?’ Napoleon maintained a gloomy + silence, but upon the morrow these murders had ceased. The unfortunate + prisoners were allowed to die of hunger in the enclosures into which, + at night, they were huddled like cattle. Doubtless it was still a + barbarity; but what could be done? Exchange them? The enemy refused. + Set them free? They would have hastened to proclaim our destitution, + and soon they would have returned with their companions to harass our + march. In this unsparing war, to have given them life would have been + to sacrifice ourselves. We were cruel from necessity. The fault was, + to have ever placed ourselves in so terrible an alternative. + + “On the other hand, during our march into the interior of Russia, our + captive soldiers were not treated more humanely, although the Russians + had not imperious necessity for an excuse.”—SÉGUR, vol. ii. p. 149. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + Page Changed from Changed to + + 298 young follow, caring no more for young fellow, caring no more for + Indians Indians + + ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last + chapter. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75215 *** diff --git a/75215-h/75215-h.htm b/75215-h/75215-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..05e7eae --- /dev/null +++ b/75215-h/75215-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15845 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Blackwood 395 - 1848.09 | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { margin-left: 8%; 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font-size: xx-large; + margin: .67em auto; page-break-before: always; } + .ph2 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; + page-break-before: always; } + .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75215 ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='titlepage'> + +<div> + <h1 class='c001'>BLACKWOOD’S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.<br> <span class='xlarge'><span class='sc'>No. CCCXCV.      SEPTEMBER, 1848.      Vol. LXIV.</span></span></h1> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c002'>CONTENTS.</h2> +</div> + +<table class='table0'> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>A Review of the Last Session</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_261'>261</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>To a Caged Skylark. By B. Simmons</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_290'>290</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Sonnet.—To Denmark</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_292'>292</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Life in the “Far West.” Part IV.</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_293'>293</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Caxtons. Part VI.</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_315'>315</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Life and Times of George II.</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_327'>327</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Great Tragedian</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_345'>345</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Moscow Retreat</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_359'>359</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>What would Revolutionising Germany be at?</span></td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_373'>373</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='large'>EDINBURGH:</span></div> + <div class='c005'>WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, 45, GEORGE STREET; AND 37, PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON.</div> + <div><span class='small'><em>To whom all Communications (post paid) must be addressed.</em></span></div> + <div><span class='small'>SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.</span></div> + <div class='c005'><span class='xsmall'>PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span></div> +<div class='chapter ph1'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div>BLACKWOOD’S</div> + <div class='c005'>EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.</div> + <div class='c005'><span class='large'><span class='sc'>No. CCCXCV.      SEPTEMBER, 1848.      Vol. LXIV.</span></span></div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c002'>A REVIEW OF THE LAST SESSION.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>There is perhaps no body of men +confederated in her Majesty’s dominions +who are less properly the subjects +of envy than the members of the +present Cabinet. A session, begun +under circumstances of unexampled +commercial pressure, continued amidst +insurrection abroad and turbulence at +home, and ending with an Irish rebellion, +ought surely to have exhibited +some specimens of extraordinary and +judicious legislation. Slovenliness in +high places, at no time decorous, is +most undecent, dangerous, and unendurable, +at a period when the whole +world is drunk with the revolutionary +elixir. France, that old irreclaimable +bacchante, is staggering to and fro, +madly bellicose, and threatening incendiarism +in her cups. Germany, +once thought too stolid to be roused, +is hiccuping for national unity, and on +the fair way of contributing largely to +the overthrow of the equilibrium of +power in Europe. The Irish symptoms +have by no means surprised us. +The insurrection there is the inevitable +fruit of the measures and policy against +which, for the last twenty years, we +have entered our strong and unflinching +protest. The shameful truckling +of the Whigs to O’Connell and his +scandalous followers; the unconstitutional +fostering of the Roman Catholic +Church; and the conciliation +system, which, while it did gross injustice +to the people of England and +Scotland, contributed to confirm the +spirit of improvidence and pauperism +among the Irish, without in any way +securing their gratitude,—have resulted +in a rebellion, imbecile, indeed, +and almost ludicrous in its issue, but +not, on that account, less afflicting +to the supporters of order and the +crown.</p> + +<p class='c008'>More than once, too, we have been +threatened at home by manifestations +of the insurrectionary spirit. In so +densely populated a country as this, +it is impossible that commercial distress +and slackness can exist for any +length of time, without trying sorely +the patience and the fortitude of the +working classes. Such distress undoubtedly +did prevail, towards the +close of last year, in a most alarming +degree; and throughout the whole +spring there was a vast want of employment +in the manufacturing districts. +The completion of some of the +great lines of railway, and in others +the partial abandonment or suspension +of the works, caused by the extreme +tightness of the money market, also +threw a great deal of unemployed +labour on the public; and this evil +was increased by the heterogeneous +character of the masses. Irish immigration +has increased to such an extent, +that not only in all the towns of Britain, +but almost in every village, especially +on the western coast, there +exists a Hibernian colony; unreclaimed +by civilisation—uneducated +as the brutes that perish—knowing +nothing of religion, save as an idolatrous +form, and professing rebellion +as a principle. This class have always +formed a nucleus for disaffection, and, +but for the extreme reluctance of the +native labourers to fraternise with +those children of Esau, the results +might ere now have been more serious +than we altogether care to contemplate. +As it was, the British demagogue +was always sure of finding a +ready partisan, confederate, and coadjutor +in the western Celt; and we +need hardly say that the Chartist +leaders availed themselves to the full +of that sympathy. We shall presently +see how far this state of matters +received the attention of the men +in power.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In this critical position we were +entitled to expect that the government +would have shown itself fully +adequate to the crisis—that the causes +of distress, which lie at the root of +turbulence and disaffection, would be +probed with a firm and prudent hand—that +every possible relief and assistance +would be given to the home +market—and that, above all, nothing +should be done which might tend, in +the remotest degree, to endanger the +integrity of the empire. The welfare +of Great Britain is a terrible trust in +times like these, and the responsibility +of those who have professed themselves +ready to govern, and who, in fact, +have rather claimed the government +than received it, is proportionally great.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Let us then take a candid and +impartial review of the proceedings +which have characterised this session +of Parliament, extending over a period +more fertile in insurrection than any +which the world has known. Let us examine +how Lord John Russell and his +colleagues have acquitted themselves in +the discharge of their important functions. +We shall be sparing neither of +praise nor blame: glad, indeed, if we +can find an opportunity of being lavish +of the former, or, in case of neglect, +of stumbling upon an honest excuse.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Our readers cannot have forgotten +the circumstances under which this +last session of Parliament commenced. +The commercial world has not, for very +many years, felt any thing like a corresponding +crisis; and the change is +most remarkable, when we reflect that +the depression followed immediately +upon a period of almost unexampled +prosperity. Our opinion is still unchanged, +as to the causes which led to +this. We pointed out, in former articles, +long before the pressure began, +what must be the inevitable result of a +wholesale departure from our older system, +of the adoption of the free-trading +economical views, and of the arbitrary +contraction of the currency, as devised +by Sir Robert Peel. Every word +we then said has been verified to the +letter; and, as we expected, the very +contingencies which we suggested as +likely to operate in producing this unfavourable +state of matters, and which +actually did subsequently occur, have +been paraded, by the free-traders and +extreme bullionists, as the causes of +the whole disaster. It is of great +importance that the public should understand +this subject clearly; and, +therefore, without repeating what we +have elaborately attempted to demonstrate +before, let us merely remark +that the tendency of free trade, and of +fettered currency combined, was to +prostrate the whole commercial world, +on the first occurrence of a bad season +and a scarcity of food, by stimulating +the exportation of gold, and at the +same time by withdrawing its representative. +In fact, Sir Robert Peel +constructed his machinery so, that the +result, in the event which we have +instanced, could be calculated on with +mathematical certainty. The realised +wealth of Britain was rendered of no +avail in this emergency, for the counters +which represented it were amissing, +and nothing else would be received +in exchange. Hence arose that total +prostration of credit, and consequent +lack of employment, which was so +lamentably felt towards the close of +the year 1847.</p> + +<p class='c008'>So intolerable was the pressure that, +after much delay and repeated refusals +to interfere, the Whig ministers were +compelled to bestir themselves, and to +suspend the operation of the Banking +Act, in order to save the country from +actual convulsion. Parliament was +summoned about the middle of November, +more, perhaps, for the sake of +obtaining a bill of indemnity for the +suspension—a measure which, after all, +did not lead to any infringement of +the Act—than with the view of boldly +facing the increasing difficulties of +the country. Notwithstanding annual +disappointment, every one waited +for the speech from the throne with +the most intense anxiety, trusting +that at such a time some comforting +glimpses for the future, some earnest +ministerial schemes would be announced, +likely to retrieve the commercial +world from its embarrassment. +These expectations were destined to +receive an immediate check. The +financial prose of the author of “Don +Carlos” was as vague and unsatisfactory +as his halting tragic verse. There +was, of course, a decent show of regret +for public calamity, but no vestige of +an intention to interpose any remedial +measure. In point of finance, the +only intelligible topic contained in the +speech was ominous of the repeal of +the Navigation Laws. Sanitary improvements, +the great Whig hobby, +which they are constantly thrusting +forward beneath the public nose, were +also recommended. Ireland, then +testifying the humane and Christian +disposition of its inhabitants, by a +series of the most cold-blooded and +revolting murders, was recommended +to the benevolence of the state. A +treaty with the Republic of the +Equator, touching the suppression of +the slave-trade, was announced; and +the Whigs looked forward “with +confidence to the maintenance of the +general peace of Europe.” A more +paltry programme was never yet +submitted to the public eye.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The ministerial move in November, +and the suspension of the Banking +Act, for however short a period, was +in truth a remarkable circumstance. +If the suspension was right, it must +necessarily imply that Sir Robert +Peel was utterly wrong in framing the +measure as he did. We know that the +Act is useless for control in times +of prosperity, and that it pinches us +by becoming operative under adverse +seasons; and it was precisely when +the pinch was felt that the Whigs +were forced to suspend it. True—a +great deal of the mischief had by that +time been accomplished. Men, every +whit as respectable as the late Premier, +had been driven into the Gazette +for the sheer want of temporary accommodation, +and property sank in +value as rapidly as the mercury before +a storm. But the true nature of +the Act had been felt and condemned +by the public; and in no one instance +do we ever recollect to have witnessed +a greater unanimity of opinion, +hostile to its endurance and principle, +than prevailed, at least beyond the +walls of the House of Commons. If +the public were wrong in this impression, +then it followed as a matter of +course that the ministry were highly +blameable for the suspension; that +Peel’s machine, being a sound and +salutary one, should have been left to +do its work, and to crush down as +many victims as it could possibly +entangle in its wheels. But in truth, +very few could be found to support +such a proposition. If credit is to be +altogether annihilated in this country, +whether by Banking Acts like this, +framed and forced upon us contrary +to the experience and in face of the +remonstrance of the mercantile classes, +or by anarchy and mob rule, as has +been the case in France, we must prepare +to bid an everlasting farewell to +our greatness. Credit, it is in vain to +deny, has made the British nation. +Credit may, like every thing else, be +pushed too far; but even over-trading +is a far less calamity than a restrictive +system, which in a day can destroy +the accumulated profits of years, +for the first carries with it its own antidote +and cure. Peel’s banking legislation, +we do not hesitate to say, has +been productive of more harm to this +country in three years, than has ever +occurred from any known cause within +the same period of time; and the +obstinacy with which he has clung to +his delusion, the sophistry which he +has invariably employed to shift the +responsibility from his shoulders, and +the manœuvring style of his defence, +may be consistent with the character +of the man, but are not worthy of the +dignity of a British statesman.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In suspending the operation of the +Banking Act, the Whigs tacitly admitted +that, in their opinion, whether +lately adopted or not, there was something +fundamentally injurious and +wrong with the measure. The subject +was a very serious one. You may +bungle sanitary bills, pass coercive +laws, or tamper with the jurisprudence +of the country, without doing more +than a limited amount of evil. But +the subject of the currency is so intimately +and vitally connected with our +whole commercial greatness, that it +must be handled with the utmost precaution. +A leak in a ship is not more +dangerous than a flaw in a monetary +statute; and, when once discovered, +not a moment should be lost in repairing +it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Not one member of the present Cabinet +was in any way competent for +the task. It is most extraordinary, +that the Whigs, after all their official +experience, should exhibit such a singular +incapacity in every matter which +has the slightest connexion with finance. +They do not seem to comprehend +the subject at all; and if their +private affairs were conducted in the +same slovenly fashion as are those of +the public when unfortunately committed +to their guidance, we should +very soon see the Gazette adorned +with some elegant extracts from the +Court Guide. The only respectable +Chancellor of the Exchequer whom +they ever produced was Mr Baring; +and he, it is rumoured, was considered +too scrupulous to be admitted to that +post again. Besides this, his views +upon the currency were known to be +diametrically opposite to those entertained +by Sir Robert Peel. Sir Charles +Wood, the worst financier that ever +disgraced the memory of Cocker, had +committed himself before the suspension +of the Act, in an especially ridiculous +manner. At one time, this +gentleman was quite jocund and hopeful, +a firm believer in the existence of +a plethora, and smiled at the idea of +a crisis with a happy air of mingled +indifference and satisfaction. Shortly +afterwards, however, he took the +alarm, attempted to eat in his own +words—an operation which he performed +with most indifferent grace,—and +possibly became dimly conscious +that a Chancellor of the Exchequer +has more duties to perform than to +sign the receipt for his salary. Sir +Charles evidently was not the man to +grapple with the difficulty; and besides +this, he could not afford to offend +Sir Robert Peel, or give a triumph to +his political opponents, who had all +along denounced the Banking Act as +an experiment of a perilous nature. In +this position, the Whigs adopted the +safest course for themselves, if not for +the country. They asked for a committee, +both in the Lords and Commons, +to consider the question of the +currency, taking care, of course, to +nominate members whose opinions +were already known. We thoroughly +agree with Mr Herries, that the inquiry +was a work of supererogation. +The subject has been already investigated +in every possible way. Blue +books have been issued from time to +time, containing an enormous mass +of deliberate evidence; and that evidence +has been repeatedly analysed +and dissected by writers of great +ability and statistical knowledge on +either side. The public mind was +perfectly ripe for decision—indeed, for +months the currency had formed +almost the sole topic discussed by the +press; and it was peculiarly desirable +that we should no longer be left in a +state of uncertainty, or exposed to the +operation of another panic. But such +an arrangement did not suit the +Whigs. They were not prepared to +come forward with an intelligible +plan for remedying the evil which +they had already admitted to exist.—Not +secretly displeased, perhaps, at +the general impression that the Tamworth +Baronet had committed a gross +and unpardonable blunder, they were +unable to dispense with his support, +and extremely unwilling to give him +umbrage—and therefore they took +refuge in the convenient scheme of +committees. In vain did Mr Herries, +in an able and statesmanlike speech, +point out the danger of delay, and +exhibit the true causes of the distress +which had lately prevailed, and +which was still weighing upon the +country. In vain did he implore +ministers to face the question manfully. +His proposal that the House +should proceed at once to the consideration +of the Banking Act, with +the view of suspending permanently +its limitations, subject to a wholesome +control, was lost by a majority of +forty-one. After a most lengthened +examination, the committees have +issued their reports; and the result is +another difference of opinion, which +leaves the whole matter open to +renewed discussion. The session has +rolled away, and the Banking Act is +left untouched.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We presume that the most confirmed +free-trader within the four +seas of Britain will at all events +admit this fact, that not one of the +glorious promises held out to us by +the political economists and gentlemen +of the Manchester school has +as yet been realised. We can hardly +expect that they will be candid +enough to confess the fallacy of the +views which they then so enthusiastically +maintained; and we doubt not +that, in any discussion, we should +still hear some very ingenious explanations +to account for the non-advent +of the anticipated blessings. But the +boldest of them will not deny that, +in the mean time, all the fiscal changes +have been followed by a decline in +our prosperity, a falling-off in trade, +and a consequent defalcation of the +revenue. We have certainly not +gained in employment, we have lost +money; and the best proof of it is, the +low ebb of the national revenue. +Such being the case, it is no wonder +if the budget or financial statement +of the minister was expected with the +most intense anxiety, and if, for the +time, every other topic was merged +in the consideration of this. Political +history does not contain many episodes +equal to that famous discussion—many +instances of utter helplessness +like that exhibited by the Premier.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We have already analysed the budget +fully in another article,<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c009'><sup>[1]</sup></a> and it is +not worth while now to recur to it for +the purposes of exposure. The deficit +was estimated at no less than three +millions for the year; and this large +sum was to be made up by the imposition +of an augmented income-tax. +Considering what had taken place on +the occasion when Sir Robert Peel +first proposed that discreditable and +decidedly odious impost, the assurances +that it was to be merely temporary +in its endurance, and the specious +pleas of necessity with which it was +then fortified,—it is no matter of surprise +that the ministerial plan should +have been received with symptoms of +marked disgust, even by those who +usually accord their support to the +measures of the present government. +Mr Hume opined that the ministry +were mad. Mr Osborne declared +his belief that, had there been a +regularly organised Opposition, such +a financial statement would have +been the death-warrant of any administration. +Even the Manchester +section of the free-traders held aloof +from ministers, just as cowards might +do from the support of a drowning +man. For however vexatious the +admission might be, they were bound +in common gratitude to have recollected +that the change from indirect +to direct taxation was effected mainly +at their instance, and to gratify their +everlasting clamour. That change had +resulted in a huge deficit of the +revenue; and, it being admitted on +all sides that a revenue must be +raised—for we have not yet got the +length of talking openly of the +sponge—they, at all events, might +have been expected to say something +in favour of their friends, +at a crisis of their own producing. +But there is no creature on earth so +utterly selfish and devoid of compunction, +as your thorough-paced economical +free-trader. Point merely in the +direction of his pocket, and he instantly +howls with terror. Five per +cent income-tax was as obnoxious in +the eyes of Cobden and Bright as in +those of other men who acted upon +sounder principles; and it is not uninstructive +to remark the course which +on this occasion the ex-members of +the League thought fit to pursue. It +had been long apparent to them, as it +was to every man in the country, that +the revenue of the year must prove insufficient +to meet the expenditure. +They knew that the unpalatable fact, +when announced in Parliament, would +inevitably lead to a discussion regarding +the policy of past measures, and the +wisdom of persisting in a course which +hitherto had met with no reciprocity +from foreign countries, but, on the +contrary, had been used to increase +the burden of our embarrassments. +Such discussion was to be deprecated +and avoided by every possible means; +and the readiest way of effecting this +seemed to be the suggestion of a plan +whereby the expenditure might be +lessened and brought down to the +level of the revenue. This very desirable +result was not so easy of accomplishment; +but nevertheless Mr +Cobden undertook the task. The product +was worthy of the author. The +wise, politic, and sagacious principle +of the calico-printer was to effect a +saving by the material reduction of our +military and naval establishments, +and the weakening of the national +arm. We hope our readers have not +forgotten, were it merely from the disgust +they must have excited, the silly +and egotistic remarks of this complacent +personage touching his travels, +his observations, and his mission as a +peaceful regenerator. Free trade, +which ought long ago to have made +Great Britain rich, had, according to +his experiences, already pacified the +world. There was to be no more war—the +French were the most affectionate +and domesticated men upon the +face of the earth—and he, Cobden, and +his friend Cremieux, were interchanging +congratulatory letters on the +advent of the new millennium. In our +March Number for the present year, +we had the satisfaction of bestowing +a slight castigation upon Cobden, to +which we beg now to refer those gentlemen +who were so wroth with us for +presuming to question the <em>dicta</em> of the +oracle of the West Riding. Within +a few days after that article was +penned, Europe was wrapped in insurrection, +and Cobden’s correspondent +a member of a revolutionary +government! The French free-trader, +Cremieux, was a consenting party to +the decree which drove forth the +British labourers from France, without +warning and without compensation! +The barricades of June have demonstrated +the affectionate and domesticated +character of the race whom +Cobden delighteth to honour. If to +cut, in cold blood, the throats of prisoners, +to shoot down the messengers +of peace in spite of their sacred calling, +to mangle the bodies of the wounded, +and these brothers and countrymen, +under circumstances unheard-of, save +perhaps in the tales of African atrocity—if +these things constitute domestication, +then by all means let us fall +back upon a more erratic and natural +state of society. How would we have +stood at this moment, with regard to +Ireland, save for the fact of our being +able to overawe rebellion by the presence +of an overwhelming military +force? Did ever a man, professing to +be an apostle and a prophet, find himself +landed in such a ridiculous and +ignominious posture?</p> + +<p class='c008'>It is strange that the reception +which he met with in the House of +Commons, upon the occasion of his +first attack upon the army, did not +induce Cobden to pause before committing +himself to a second absurdity. +But there are some men whose conceit +is of such extravagant a development, +that no experience, no failure, +no argument, will induce them to part +with one iota of a preconceived +opinion. Such a person is Cobden. +Unabashed by the result of his previous +exhibitions, callous to shame, +and impenetrable to ridicule, he again +addressed the House on the subject of +the navy estimates, for the purpose of +demonstrating the propriety of an immediate +reduction of the fleet. This +was too much even for Lord John +Russell, who for once took heart of +grace, and administered a fair allowance +of punishment to the arrogant +and ignorant free-trader. But the +truth is, Mr Cobden’s career is ended. +The <cite>Times</cite>, once a warm admirer of +this confident gentleman, has ceased +to vouchsafe him its protection, as +will be seen from the following extract +of 11th August last:—</p> + +<p class='c010'>“What has he done? What have been +his tactics? What is the sum and substance +of the statesmanship to which all +the world looked forward so anxiously? +Simply this—a depreciation of our military +and naval establishments, and an emulation +of America. The first constitutes the +whole gist and pith of the honourable +member’s speeches; the latter, of his +policy. England is to disband her fleets +and armies, to give up her colonies, and to +enter boldly on a course of Yankee statesmanship. +We would not wrong the hon. +gentleman. We refer to his speeches on +Tuesday and Wednesday nights, as well +as those delivered at the close of the last +year. What do they amount to? ‘Retrench +your expenditure; give up your +ships; abolish the ordnance; send round +embassies to every country and court +of Europe; tell them you have disarmed; +ask them to do the same; and +then set to work, and tinker up your +constitution on the model of the United +States. Do away with open voting. +Destroy the <em>privilege</em> of the suffrage; +abolish the virtue of patriotic courage; +give every man a vote, and <em>make</em> every +man vote in secret. Then you will be +rich and prosperous; your expenditure +will at once be curtailed, and your commerce +will be diffused by the amity of +nations.’ This is the policy which is to +save us from ruin, to pay our debt and +confirm our strength. All that we can +say is, that one part of it is well matched +to the other; that both equally demonstrate +the ability of the counsellor to +advise, as his vaticinations last winter +proved his ability to prophesy.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>And yet this is the person whom the +Whigs lauded, and whom Sir Robert +Peel elaborately eulogised for his sagacity!</p> + +<p class='c008'>By a somewhat curious coincidence, +the budget was brought forward on +the very week when the French revolution +broke out. Mr Cobden’s proposal, +therefore, met with no support; +and it must have become evident, even +to the free-traders, that under such a +threatening aspect as the Continent +presented, no sane man would agree +to a reduction in our military force. +Still that party continued inflexibly +opposed to the ministerial measure for +raising an adequate revenue, and, by +doing so, we maintain that they were +guilty of an act of political ingratitude. +In this situation, ministers were fain +to withdraw their proposal, and to +continue the income-tax as formerly, +for a period of three years, without +any definite scheme of making up for +the deficiency in the revenue.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In fact, the session has passed +away without a budget at all. That +which Lord John Russell tabled, has +crumbled away like a thing of gossamer; +and, so far as financial matters +are concerned, we are left in the +pleasant impression that we are getting +into further debt, and have no +distinct means of paying it. To exhibit +the recklessness with which the +Whigs regard all matters connected +with revenue, it is sufficient to remark, +that with three millions of deficit admitted, +our rulers think this an advantageous +and a proper time to sacrifice +about fifty thousand pounds annually, +the produce of duties upon imported +copper ore.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mr Osborne was right. No ministry, +had there been a decent Opposition, +could have stood such an exposure. +We even go further; for we believe +that—but for the French revolution, +and the universal turbulence +abroad, which rendered it absolutely +necessary that this country should +maintain a firm front, and exhibit no +symptoms of internal weakness or +discord—the present ministry could +not have existed for another fortnight. +As it is, we are in some respects glad +that they have continued in office; +because, though late, they have been +called upon to act under circumstances +which, in future, may give a +new and improved tone to Whig political +opinions.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Before quitting the budget, let us +say a word or two regarding future +financial prospects. It is no doubt possible +that trade may revive—though, +from the present aspect of European +affairs, we are not inclined to be at +all sanguine in our expectations. We +cannot, it is quite clear, reduce our +effective establishments; for no one +can say what emergency may arise +to make us, not mere spectators, but +active partisans in a contest which we +shall deeply and long deplore. Economy +we may practise at home, and +for once we are of Joseph’s mind. +There are items in our civil and pension +list clearly superfluous and undefensible, +and we wish to see these +removed, though with a just regard to +vested interests and claims. We are +no admirers of such antiquated offices +as that of Hereditary Grand Falconer; +and we think that Mr MacGregor’s +inquiry, as to the heirs of the +Duke of Schomberg, who for a century +and a half have been billeted +upon the country to the tune of three +thousand a-year, deserved at least a +courteous reply from so very determined +an economist as the Premier +formerly proclaimed himself. A doorkeeper +may surely be maintained at a +less annual expense than the income +of a country gentleman; and in many +departments even of government, we +have certainly been over lavish of +remuneration. But these retrenchments, +though they may give satisfaction +to the nation, can never free +it from its embarrassments. The revenue +has clearly sunk to a point +when it must be augmented by some +decided and effective measure; and it +will well become us all to consider, +even without reference to past disputes, +from what quarter the supply is to +come. If the decision, or at all +events the expressed feeling, of the +House of Commons can be taken as +an index of the popular wish, the +nation will not submit to an augmentation +of the income-tax. No +increased duties upon excise can be +levied,—indeed the cry is general for +the removal of those which exist. +The window-tax—though it might be +materially improved by a more equitable +arrangement, and by rating great +houses without any graduated scale—is +decidedly unpopular. In fact, all +direct taxation is of an obnoxious +character—it is the fertile source of +murmur and of discontent, and it +never can be adjusted so as to render +it palatable to the payer.</p> + +<p class='c008'>From what quarter, then, is it possible +for us to recruit our revenue? +How are we to provide for casualties, +and for a possibly increased expenditure? +That question must be solved +in one way or the other, and that +without lack of time. It will not do +to go on from year to year with a +continually increasing deficit, the +arrears of which shall be passed to +the capital of our national debt—we +must raise money, and the only question +is, how to do it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Within the last six years, says Sir +Charles Wood, the nation has remitted +<em>seven and a half</em> millions of annual +taxation: since the peace, says Lord +John Russell, more than <em>thirty-nine +millions</em> of annual taxes have been +removed. Highly satisfactory this, no +doubt—but what does it prove? Simply +that we have pushed the abolition +of indirect taxation too far. We +have gone on, year after year, lowering +tariffs, for the purpose of stimulating +foreign trade. We have thereby +unquestionably increased our imports, +but we have failed in giving any thing +like a corresponding buoyancy to our +exports. <em>Why</em> we did this is not +very difficult of comprehension, if we +look attentively to the state of party +which has subsisted for the last few +years in this country.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Free-trade, in so far as it lessens +the cost of production, is clearly the +interest of the master-manufacturer +who exports for the foreign market; +but, we repeat, it is the interest of no +one else in the community. Free-trade +in certain articles,—that is, in +raw material introduced to this country +for the purpose of being manufactured, +sold at home, or exported—is +just and commendable. Free-trade +in what are called the necessaries of +life, such as corn and cattle, does not +tend to the wealth of the country; but, +for the present, we shall leave that +subject in abeyance. Free-trade in +luxuries and in manufactured goods, +whenever these latter displace the +home labourer in the home market, +we hold to be utterly injurious, and +we shall presently state our reasons.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Manchester school have adopted, +preached, and insisted upon free +trade in <em>all</em> these branches. It was +their interest to push the cotton trade +to its utmost possible limits, and to +undersell all competitors in every accessible +market. Hence their favourite +doctrine of cheapness, which in +appearance is so plausible, but which +actually is so fallacious, and the pertinacity +with which they have continued +to preach it up. Hence the +League, in the formation of which +they displayed such undoubted energy, +and the immense sums which they +lavished for the popular promulgation +of their creed. To conciliate these +men, swollen to a formidable number, +and maintaining their opinions with +extreme plausibility, and no ordinary +share of talent, became an important +object to the leaders who were then +at the head of the two great parties +of the state. It is in vain to deny that +a large body of the middle classes +were concerned in this movement, +and, to gain their votes and support, +the unholy race for power began.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Hence our legislation, whether under +Peel or Russell, has been directed +for the last six or seven years invariably +to one point. The man who +could boast of having removed the +greatest amount of taxation was sure +to be the popular favourite; and we +all know in what manner, and by +what means, Sir Robert Peel accomplished +his share of the work. He +first, on the assurance that it was to +be merely temporary, obtained an +income-tax, amply sufficient to redeem +the financial deficit which was +the legacy of his predecessors. He +next proceeded to make that income-tax +permanent, by paring at, and +reducing the tariffs; and finally, in +order that his rival might not have +the start of him in popularity, he +threw his party overboard, and consented +to the abolition of the corn-laws.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But there is a point beyond which +taxation cannot possibly be remitted; +and that point Sir Robert Peel had +reached before he retired from office. +True, the effect of his measures had +not yet become apparent, but they +were foreseen by many, and perhaps +not unsuspected by himself towards +the close of his tenure of office. +Further than as being consenting +parties to those reckless sacrifices of +revenue, it would be unfair to charge +the Whigs with having brought us +into our present perplexity. Sir +Robert Peel is the real author of +this, and he cannot escape the responsibility.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Now upon two points—viz., the +introduction of raw material for +manufacture, and of articles of food—we +shall for the present forbear joining +issue with the free-traders. But +the third one, that of the admission +of foreign manufactured goods at +nearly nominal rates of duty, is far +too important to be passed over, even +at the risk of repetition.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The industry of this country is not +confined to a few, but flows through +a thousand channels. There are, +however, about four great trades in +which Britain can at present, owing +to her mineral wealth, machinery, and +capital, compete with decided advantage +against any other country in the +world. These are the cotton, the +linen, the woollen, and the iron trade, +the exports of which articles amount +to rather more than <span class='fss'>TWO-THIRDS</span> of +the whole exports of the United +Kingdom, or in round numbers from +thirty-three to thirty-five millions +annually. It is to the unceasing +agitation of men connected with +<em>these</em> trades that we owe the erection +of the League, and the progress of +free trade which has brought us to so +low a condition.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It is no matter of surprise that the +corn-laws were obnoxious to such +persons. With the agricultural interest +they had no natural sympathy; +and being always able to command +the monopoly of the home market, +their invariable effort has been to +stimulate trade abroad to the very +utmost of their power. High wages +interfered with their profits; and in +order to command the labour market, +they formed their famous scheme +for reducing the price of food, by +dealing a blow to agriculture at +home, and opening the ports to the +admission of foreign corn. This +cry was to a certain degree popular, +especially amongst those who +were not connected with their works; +for the more intelligent of the operatives, +to their credit be it said, very +early detected the selfishness of the +whole manœuvre, and saw, that with +the price of food wages also would +inevitably decline. Foreign corn, +however, was not enough for the +appetite of those grasping monopolists. +They looked with envy on the smaller +non-exporting trades, who constituted +a great portion of the population, and +who were defended in the home +market, their only field, by a reasonable +scale of duties. It presently +occurred to them, that if, by any +means this scale could be broken +down, and the market inundated with +foreign manufactures, they might be +enabled to export a larger quantity +of their own fabrics, reduce the price +of articles which they were personally +inclined to consume, and finally reap +another benefit by cheapening labour—that +is, by forcing a new class, through +want of employment, to compete with +their former operatives. These we +know to have been the secret views +of the League, and to these ends, for +several years past, they have bent the +whole of their energies. How they +have succeeded, let the present state +of the labour market tell. The tariffs +of 1846 were expressly framed in their +favour. They have done half of the +anticipated work; for by the admission +of foreign manufactures into this +country at a reduced rate of duty, +they have thrown many thousands of +industrious handicraftsmen into the +streets. The small shopkeeper has +been reduced from an employer into +a mere retailer, and disaffection has +been engendered through the pressure +of absolute misery.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This may seem a highly-coloured +picture; but if any man of intelligence +will take the trouble to make himself +acquainted with the feelings, and to +listen to the individual histories of +persons of the working-class, he will +find it to be strictly true. Four-fifths +of the men who were in attendance +at the late Chartist meetings belonged +in 1845 to the non-exporting trades, +were then in full employment, and +probably as loyal as any subjects in +the kingdom. So, indeed, we believe +they are still, in so far as loyalty to +the crown is concerned; for, thank +God! Republicanism has not taken +any root in the empire. But they are +utterly discontented with the government, +and furious at the apathy with +which, they think, their sufferings are +regarded. They find that the repeal +of the corn-laws has done absolutely +nothing in their favour. They find +that the lowered tariffs have opened a +sluice-gate through which articles of +foreign manufacture have rushed in +to swamp them; and they gloomily, +and even savagely, assert, that this +state of things is the result of a combination +of the rich against the poor. +So it is: but from that combination +the aristocracy and gentlemen of England +stand apart. The headquarters +of the grinding-society are at Manchester, +Liverpool, and Sheffield; the +machinery it uses are the arms of the +League; the master-spirits of the confederacy +are Cobden, Wilson, and +Bright.</p> + +<p class='c008'>A very pregnant instance of the +sympathy which is felt by the free-traders +and political economists for +the suffering of the lower orders, occurred +during a debate towards the +beginning of May last. We specially +notice the fact, because it proves that, +however two successive ministers may +have forgot their duty to the people, +there exists, in a higher quarter still, +the deepest commiseration for their +distress, and an earnest desire to alleviate +it in every possible manner. It +appears from official documents that, +during the first three months of the +present year, there were entered for +home consumption, at the port of +London alone, foreign silk goods worth +£400,000, equal to the employment of +31,000 weavers; lace and needlework +worth £40,000, or sufficient to +displace the produce of 4000 workwomen +and sempstresses; and 7000 +dozen of boot and shoe fronts, enough +to keep 1200 cordwainers in full employment. +So near as we can calculate, +the duty payable upon those articles, +under the tariff of 1845, would +have amounted to £88,150: at present +it is not more than £65,575, thus entailing +a primary loss of £22,575 to +the revenue. Such an influx of goods, +at a peculiarly unprofitable season, was +tantamount to displacing the labour +of 36,200 persons, who were to be +thrown upon the public charity, without +any other resource. A short time +after these facts became known, an +order was issued from the Lord +Chamberlain’s office, containing her +Majesty’s commands to the ladies of +England, that in attending court they +should appear attired in dresses exclusively +the production of native industry. +Yes! our gracious Queen, +whose heart is unchilled by the cold +dogmas of political economy, felt like +a woman and a sovereign, and resolved, +on her part at least, to rescue +from famine and misery so many +thousands of her poorer subjects. It +is most gratifying to know that this +exercise of the royal care and benevolence +has met with its best reward, +for in the midst of all the distress +which has unfortunately prevailed, +the class for whose benefit those timely +orders were issued have been kept in +employment and food: the example set +from the throne has been widely and +generously followed. But will it be +believed, that this act of mercy gave +huge umbrage to the free-traders, and +was fiercely commented on in their +journals as a gross infringement of the +principles of enlightened government? +Therefore, in the eyes of the Leaguers, +it seems a crime to interfere for the +support of the British workman,—and +unjustifiable interference with Providence +to give work to the labouring +poor!</p> + +<p class='c008'>But this is not all. Lord John +Russell, on being asked in the House +of Commons whether he had any share +in suggesting this philanthropic action, +or whether the sole credit of it appertained +to his royal mistress, was not +slow in uttering his disclaimer. “<em>He</em> +had not advised the crown in the +matter,—he could only say that the +order had issued from the Chamberlain’s +office.” After a vain attempt +to show that no extra quantity of +goods had been imported, but that the +apparent increase arose solely from +the cessation of smuggling, he proceeded +to remark:—“But if more +goods <em>are</em> now entered, and thereby a +particular class do suffer inconvenience +or distress, <em>yet these entries must stimulate +the production and exportation +of the classes of goods for which the +imports are exchanged</em>.” There spoke +the convert to the League—the truckler +to Cobden and Co.! There, from +the lips of a British minister, fell the +most un-British, the most unpatriotic +doctrine that ever yet was enunciated! +Said we not truly that the whole object +of free trade is to put down and +exterminate the non-exporting trades, +for the exclusive benefit of the few +monster monopolies? The Premier +concluded an ungracious, halting, and +discreditable speech with the somewhat +unnecessary announcement that, +under all circumstances, he thought +he should be the last person to advise +her Majesty to make an alteration in +the commercial policy which of late +years had been pursued.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We need hardly remark that, in the +present instance, the importation of +these foreign goods could in no way +“stimulate the production or exportation” +of any kind of British manufacture +whatever. The articles in +question were sent from France, at a +time when every thing was unsaleable, +and were sold in London for hard cash, +at a heavy discount. Even Cobden +need not have grudged this little encouragement +to Spitalfields and Bethnal +Green. He did not sell a yard of +calico the less. Gold, and not shirting, +was what the French wanted, +what they bargained for, and what +they received. But let us see a little +more of the sympathy of the Leaguers +for the poor, and respect for the +sovereign, who surely might be left, +in matters of this kind, to exercise +some discretion of her own.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Colonel Thompson, representing <em>an +exporting constituency</em>, was furious at +the alleged interference. “He would +ask whether there was any charity, +any humanity, any justice, any policy, +any common-sense in representing +hostility to one portion of the manufacturing +classes of the country, to +come from a quarter of which he was +sure no one in that House wished to +speak otherwise than with feelings of +the utmost affection and reverence?” +We are not sure that we quite understand +this outburst of the gallant +Colonel, which we copy verbatim from +the columns of the <em>Spectator</em>, but, as +he talks about charity and humanity +with reference to his waistcoat and +pantaloon exporting constituency of +Bradford, we take him to mean that +that favoured place should flourish, +and Spitalfields utterly disappear. +This is pure Leaguer’s doctrine, distinctly +redolent of the Bastile!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mr John Bright was also true to +his order. The partisan of peace +opined that “there was no difference +between driving out workmen, and +keeping out their work: though no +order had been issued to exclude +foreign work, yet the effect of the +order really given is, that French +silks, which would have been consumed, +will not be used, <em>and English +taken instead</em>. It should be known, +that from the late convulsions, the +contingent depression of trade, and +the low price of French silks in France, +very large quantities of them have +been purchased and brought to this +country. The announcement in question +might therefore entail <em>great loss +on large capitalists</em>, and ruin on many +of smaller means. The kindness to +the Spitalfields weavers would then +be done only at a cost of loss and +injury to other classes.” Quite right, +Friend Bright! the first persons to be +guarded are <em>your</em> speculators and <em>your</em> +capitalists. The poor operative, +who is not in your line, may starve +for any thing you care. There is a +protective spirit about this, which absolutely +charms us. We wonder that +Mr Bright did not on a former occasion +foresee that the repeal of the +corn-laws might entail great loss on +large proprietors, and ruin on many +of smaller means!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir William Molesworth considered +that “it was <em>a silly and foolish</em> order; +and he was informed, on the best +authority, that there was not the +slightest chance of its being obeyed.” +We leave this remark of Molesworth +without any comment, merely asking +his authority for holding that, to assist +in feeding the hungry, and maintaining +our poorer countrymen by the +exercise of their own industry, is a +silly and a foolish act; and requesting +him to consider how far his chivalrous +title is consistent with such language, +when applied to an order emanating +directly from his sovereign.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This little episode is very instructive, +as elucidating the views of the free-traders. +The great exporting trades +have combined to crush and annihilate +the small handicrafts, and this +they are rapidly doing through the +operation of these lowered tariffs. If +direct taxation were to be introduced, +and the custom-house virtually abolished, +in so far as regards articles of +foreign manufacture, the thing would +be done at once—for no one would +wear clumsy English boots when he +could get French ones at a lower +price; or British instead of Parisian +gloves; or silk from Spitalfields rather +than the less costly fabric of Lyons. +The more honest of the free-traders +make no scruple of announcing their +views. They admit that the realisation +of their maxim, to sell in the +dearest and buy in the cheapest +market, implies the ruin of every +non-exporting trade, and they seem +absolutely resolved to push their +theory to the utmost. At present Sir +Robert Peel has managed it so, that, +without being absolutely annihilated, +the poorer classes are ground down to +the lowest point. We ask the shopkeepers, +artisans, and smaller manufacturers, +who have no connexion +with the foreign market, whether this +is not truly the case,—and if so, whether +they are inclined to allow this +cruel, selfish, and inhuman system to +be carried any further—nay, whether +they will not at once resolve to make +determined head against it? But for +the obstinate blindness of the political +economists, we would appeal to that +dearest of all considerations, their own +safety. Do they really think it possible, +even were it politic, to drive +the whole operative industry of Britain +into the compass of a few exporting +trades. Can they make millions of +men change their habits of a sudden, +and walk from the country towns and +villages,—wherein, before Sir Robert +Peel introduced the foreigner to +swamp them, they had supported +themselves by the exercise of their +craft,—to the factory or the mine, or +the furnace, or the printing work, +there to spend the remainder of their +existence in twisting, digging, smelting, +and stamping, for the benefit of +Cobden and his confederates? The +idea is absolute madness. Already +we see the effects of false and unpatriotic +legislation, in Chartist meetings +and processions, in agitations for +universal suffrage, in crime three-fold +increased, and in augmented poor-rates. +What are considerations of +sanatory reform or of public instruction +compared to these? Will men +thank you for soap and tracts, even +should these articles be gratuitous, if +you take their labour away from them, +and legislate for one class alone, as +has been the case of late years? Can +you expect to make them loyal and +peaceable, whilst you deny them the +means of obtaining a fair day’s wage +for a fair day’s labour—whilst you +not only encourage, but convert into +an actual fact the idea that a large +portion of the poor are oppressed, and +drive them to seek a remedy in attempts +to procure a more popular representation? +Free trade has been +the great incentive to Chartism, and, +unless men return speedily to their +senses, it may chance to be the terrible +promoter of revolution.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But what is to be the real amount +of the deficit? No man living can +tell. Lord John Russell estimated it +at about three millions, and subsequently +Sir Charles Wood announced +that, by sundry savings and sales of +old stores—which latter source of +revenue very much resembles the case +of a gentleman parting with his body +clothes to make up for his annual expenditure—it +might be reduced to a +million and a half. Since then we +have received the official accounts of +the trade of the kingdom for the six +months ending 5th July 1848; and +we very much fear, from a perusal +of these, that the Chancellor of +the Exchequer has understated his +difficulties. Our exports, for the sake +of which every other interest has +been sacrificed, have fallen off to an +alarming extent. During the corresponding +six months of last year +the declared value of our exports was +£25,395,243: the whole amount for +this period is £21,571,939, or very +nearly <span class='fss'>FOUR MILLIONS</span> less on the +half year! Here is another staggering +instance of the utter futility of free +trade. The decrease of export for +the year 1846, as compared with 1845, +was about two millions—and now it +is going on at the rate of four millions +for half the time! Was there +ever a more pregnant proof of the +impossibility of forcing markets?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Looking to the imports, we find +some very curious results. Lord +John Russell took great credit for +the increased consumption of sugar +consequent on his West Indian experiments, +which we shall presently have +occasion to notice more minutely; and +predicted a still further consumption +and increase to the revenue. Let us +see how that matter stands. The +following is the total of sugar imported +to this country for the first six +months of the last three years respectively.</p> + +<table class='table1'> + <tr> + <th class='c003'></th> + <th class='c011'>1846.</th> + <th class='c011'>1847.</th> + <th class='c012'>1848.</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Sugar unrefined, cwts.,</td> + <td class='c013'>2,956,986</td> + <td class='c013'>3,967,686</td> + <td class='c004'>2,960,430</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Sugar Refined,</td> + <td class='c013'>54,249</td> + <td class='c013'>39,344</td> + <td class='c004'>50,863</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Sugar Candy,</td> + <td class='c013'>1</td> + <td class='c013'>1,025</td> + <td class='c004'>507</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Sugar Molasses,</td> + <td class='c013'>202,264</td> + <td class='c013'>411,263</td> + <td class='c004'>191,531</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'><hr></td> + <td class='c013'><hr></td> + <td class='c004'><hr></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'>3,213,500</td> + <td class='c013'>4,419,318</td> + <td class='c004'>3,203,331</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'><hr></td> + <td class='c013'><hr></td> + <td class='c004'><hr></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p class='c008'>So that we are absolutely importing +<em>less sugar</em> in 1848 than we did in +1846, before Lord John Russell and +his sapient colleagues chose to give +the <em>coup de grace</em> to the colonists! So +much for increased revenue from that +source.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the articles of raw material for +manufacture there is a considerable +increase; and, should money be obtainable +at easy rates throughout the +coming winter, this may be a source of +real congratulation. But from recent +symptoms, and the insanity of ministers +in refusing to face the difficulties +of the Bank Restriction Acts, we very +much dread another recurrence of +tightness, in which case industry must +inevitably be paralysed as before. It +is, however, comforting to know that +we have a stock of raw material in +hand, and that our condition in that +respect has improved since last year, +when the warehouses were nearly +drained. The aggregate amount of +cotton, wool, flax, hemp, and silk +which have been imported for the last +six months is in the ratio of 28,811,825, +to 27,372,502 for the same period in +1847.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But the influx of foreign manufactures +is the most singular feature of +all; and we do entreat the most serious +consideration of our readers to this +very pressing point. What we have +already said regarding the annihilation +of the small trades in this country, +by the total withdrawal of protection, +receives the amplest confirmation +from these official tables; and, if we +are wise, something must be done, +with the least possible delay, to remedy +the evils which have been entailed +upon us, through our blind submission +to the pernicious doctrines of the free-traders. +Do honourable members +really believe, that by agitating the +ballot, or bringing forward schemes +for extended suffrage, they will give +work to the unemployed, or put bread +in the mouths of the starving? If, +instead of attempting to gain a little +transient popularity by advocating +organic changes, they would seriously +address themselves to the task of revising +the tariffs, and so encouraging +the home market, they would be of +real use to the country at this momentous +time. For momentous it is +most certainly. The discovery of a +deliberate plan for general incendiarism +in Liverpool, the mobs in Glasgow, +and the disturbances at Bradford, +are all symptoms of disaffection, +and all proceed from one cause—from +the sacrifice of native industry at the +shrine of the Moloch of free trade. +Even now, while we are writing, +intelligence has arrived of the arrest +of armed Chartists in London and in +Manchester; assassination has begun +at Ashton, and every post brings in +tidings of some new commotion. Is +this a time for Parliament to separate +without any remedial measure? Is +this a time to allow our markets to +be inundated with foreign produce; +each fresh cargo displacing our own +industry, and further adding to our embarrassment, +by hastening on another +monetary crisis by the exportation of +bullion in exchange? This is the +work commenced by Peel, and consummated +by the incapable Whigs. +God knows how it will end, if wiser, +more unselfish, and more patriotic men +are not speedily summoned to take +the lead in her Majesty’s councils.</p> + +<p class='c008'>No account is given, as in former +years, of the amount of foreign linen +and woollen manufactures imported, +or of several other important branches +of trade upon which Sir Robert Peel +abolished the duty. Why this omission +has taken place we do not know, +unless it be for the worst of all reasons, +that the results were too startling +for disclosure. But we shall take +the statistics of the silk manufactured +trade alone, from which it will be seen +that, in two years after the relaxation +of the duties, we have <em>doubled our +imports</em>, thereby throwing immense +numbers of our own operatives out of +employment.</p> + +<table class='table1'> + <tr><th class='c014' colspan='7'><span class='sc'>Foreign Silk Manufactures, entered under Tariff of 1846.</span></th></tr> + <tr> + <th class='c003'></th> + <th class='c011' colspan='2'>1846.</th> + <th class='c011' colspan='2'>1847.</th> + <th class='c012' colspan='2'>1848.</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Silk or satin broad stuffs,</td> + <td class='c013'>64,269</td> + <td class='c015'>lbs.</td> + <td class='c013'>85,589</td> + <td class='c015'>lbs.</td> + <td class='c013'>141,179</td> + <td class='c016'>lbs.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Silk ribbons,</td> + <td class='c013'>79,541</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>95,906</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>95,881</td> + <td class='c016'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Gauze or crape broad stuffs,</td> + <td class='c013'>4,383</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>4,053</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>5,127</td> + <td class='c016'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Gauze ribbons,</td> + <td class='c013'>11,268</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>26,166</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>26,312</td> + <td class='c016'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Gauze, mixed,</td> + <td class='c013'>18</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>8</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>39</td> + <td class='c016'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Mixed ribbons,</td> + <td class='c013'>687</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>1,650</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>1,244</td> + <td class='c016'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Velvet broad stuffs,</td> + <td class='c013'>2,935</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>4,822</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>6,558</td> + <td class='c016'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Velvet embossed ribbons,</td> + <td class='c013'>4,183</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>3,141</td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'>10,530</td> + <td class='c016'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'><hr></td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'><hr></td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + <td class='c013'><hr></td> + <td class='c016'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'>167,284</td> + <td class='c015'>lbs.</td> + <td class='c013'>221,335</td> + <td class='c015'>lbs.</td> + <td class='c013'>286,870</td> + <td class='c016'>lbs.</td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p class='c008'>Now if, as it is fair to suppose, the +same increase, or even half of it, has +taken place in the importation of other +articles upon which the duties were +removed, but which have been quietly +withdrawn from the official tables; +these statistics are enough to condemn +free trade before any tribunal in the +world. Mark how the matter stands. +Here is a <em>doubled importation</em> of foreign +manufactured goods. One half +at least of these goods have come in +to displace your home manufacture. +The other half would have come in as +formerly to supply the rich, who would +have had to pay a high duty for the +gratification of their fancy. That +duty, where reduced, is now lost to +the revenue. Who is the gainer, then? +No one, save the rich consumer; +whilst, on the other hand, the revenue +has suffered, and home industry has +received a prostrating blow. But—say +men of the Cobden school—though +the silk weaver, and embroiderer, and +milliner, and plaiter, and shoemaker, +and tailor, may have suffered, the +country is no loser, because <span class='fss'>WE</span> export +goods in return for the articles of +import. Do you, gentlemen? Let +us turn to the export tables, and see +how your account stands. Recollect, +you have undertaken to show us a +corresponding export of your goods to +meet the influx of foreign manufactures. +Unless you can do this, your +case is utterly worthless, and you +stand as detected impostors.</p> + +<table class='table1'> + <tr><th class='c014' colspan='4'><span class='sc'>Export of Principal Manufactures from the United Kingdom.</span></th></tr> + <tr> + <th class='c003'></th> + <th class='c011'>1846.</th> + <th class='c011'>1847.</th> + <th class='c012'>1848.</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Cotton manufactures,</td> + <td class='c013'>£8,899,272</td> + <td class='c013'>£9,248,835</td> + <td class='c004'>£8,023,825</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Ditto yarn,</td> + <td class='c013'>3,523,793</td> + <td class='c013'>2,628,616</td> + <td class='c004'>2,214,431</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Linen manufactures,</td> + <td class='c013'>1,389,520</td> + <td class='c013'>1,502,770</td> + <td class='c004'>1,413,819</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Ditto yarn,</td> + <td class='c013'>410,277</td> + <td class='c013'>315,196</td> + <td class='c004'>236,076</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Silk manufactures,</td> + <td class='c013'>421,910</td> + <td class='c013'>494,806</td> + <td class='c004'>263,798</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Woollen yarn,</td> + <td class='c013'>377,160</td> + <td class='c013'>444,797</td> + <td class='c004'>291,985</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Ditto manufactures,</td> + <td class='c013'>3,143,550</td> + <td class='c013'>3,564,754</td> + <td class='c004'>2,578,470</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'><hr></td> + <td class='c013'><hr></td> + <td class='c004'><hr></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'>£18,165,482</td> + <td class='c013'>£18,199,774</td> + <td class='c004'>£15,022,404</td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p class='c008'>The result is a loss on these articles +alone of <span class='fss'>THREE MILLIONS</span> in six months, +and we are to set that against doubled +imports, free of duty, and displacing +British employment! Here are the +glorious effects of Sir Robert’s commercial +legislation!</p> + +<p class='c008'>What, then, <em>has</em> gone out to meet +the import which is rapidly promoting +Chartism among us, by impoverishing +the poorer classes? Just what we +predicted long ago—<span class='sc'>Gold</span>; the idol +without which men must starve, but +which free trade periodically sweeps +from out our grasp. The lowered tariffs +have operated peculiarly unfavourably +at the present crisis—not perhaps so +much in the branch of silk manufactures +as in others; for it is remarkable that +the increase of import in 1847, over +that of 1846, is quite as large as the +increase of the present over the former +year; and had Lord John Russell been +alive to the duties of his situation, +or capable of comprehending the effects +which a glut of foreign goods must +produce on the home market, he ought +instantly to have brought in a bill +augmenting the customs duties, and +hurried it through Parliament without a +moment’s unnecessary delay. The madness +of encouraging increased imports, +whilst exports are falling, is utterly +inconceivable to any who have not +eaten and drunk with Cobden; and it +is quite possible that some who have +been admitted to that precious privilege, +may agree with us if they will take +the trouble to consider the foregoing +tables. We are not the only sufferers. +America is beginning to understand +that increased imports are by no means +decisive symptoms of a healthy commercial +state; and the following extract +from Transatlantic correspondence, +which we copy from the +money article in the <cite>Sun</cite> newspaper +of 16th August last, is pregnant with +meaning in the present posture of +affairs.</p> + +<p class='c010'>“The whole of Europe is in a terrible +condition, and our only hope is, that Great +Britain may escape the blast which has +swept from one end of the Continent to +the other with such devastating effect. If +England escape, we shall continue to find +extensive markets for our products, and +our prosperity will be partially preserved. +Our markets on the Continent have almost +become extinct, so that the worst in that +particular has already been realised; but, +every week or month, consumption in that +section of the world is restricted or limited—so +much the more injurious must be the +revolution causing such a state of things. +With the exception of Great Britain, our +European export trade has been literally +annihilated; but <em>unfortunately, our import +trade with these countries</em> has not met +with a similar fate, but on the contrary, +has rather increased than otherwise. +Importers and speculators in this country +have taken advantage of the financial embarrassments +growing out of the Revolution, +which the manufacturers of France +and Europe generally have laboured under, +and have purchased of them for cash, goods +at one half their cost, and have filled our +markets. <em>A portion of the specie which +has been shipped from this port within the +last four months went abroad for this purpose</em>; +and while our exports had become +reduced to the lowest limit, and exchange +drawn upon previous shipments of produce +was coming back protested, millions of +dollars of gold and silver were going forward +to purchase goods which could not +be obtained on the usual credit. In this +way, our whole foreign trade has become +deranged, and we have thus far borne the +brunt of the commercial revulsions and +political revolutions in Europe.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>What is to be said of a system +which swamps our home market, whilst +at the same time it promotes a drain +of gold? What is to be said of the +system which makes a drain of gold +almost tantamount to national bankruptcy?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Having hitherto dealt with the +subjects of the currency and finance, +let us now glance for a moment +at the new legislation for our colonies. +We need not repeat the +tale of the disasters into which the +West Indies have been plunged, or the +ruin which has befallen many of our +own most respectable citizens, who, +to their misfortune, had embarked +their capital and fortunes in sugar-growing +estates, trusting to British +faith and protection for at least an +adequate return. The veriest zealot +could not have wished to have seen +the crime of slavery more bitterly +avenged; but in what a manner! +Great Britain, after having made a +sacrifice of twenty millions to emancipate +the slave population in her own +colonies,—a sacrifice to her, though +not an adequate compensation to the +planters,—after having declared to the +whole world her determination no +longer to participate in the profits +of forced labour,—after having made +treaties, and equipped armaments for +the suppression of the slave-trade,—suddenly +changed her policy, admitted +slave-grown sugar from foreign states, +first, at a high, and, latterly, at so low +a duty, that her own colonies, already +impoverished, could no longer afford to +defray the cost of production. Here, +again, the principle of free trade has +been triumphant and ruinous; here, +again, the exporting trades have carried +their point, not only against the +interests of the colonists, but against +those of benevolence and Christianity. +The cause of the Blacks has been +abandoned for the tempting bribe of +cheap sugars, of an augmented demand +for cottons and blankets to supply the +gangs of Cuba, and of machinery for +Brazil, to enable the planter more +utterly to prostrate Jamaica.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In February last we reviewed with +great care all the evidence which we +could collect regarding the West +Indian interest. The conclusion to +which we arrived was contained in +the following paragraph:—“And +what is it that our colonists ask? +What is the extravagant proposal +which we are prepared to reject at +the cost of the loss of our most fertile +possessions, and of nearly two hundred +millions of British capital? +Simply this, that in the meantime +such a distinctive duty should be enforced +as will allow them to compete +on terms of equality with the slave-growing +states. Let this alone be +granted, and they have no wish to +interfere with any other fiscal regulation. +And what would be the amount +of differential duty required? <em>Not +more, as we apprehend, than ten shillings +the hundredweight.</em>” Having +hazarded this statement so early, it +was certainly gratifying to find that +an impartial committee of the House +of Commons, reporting four months +later, had, after a full investigation of +the whole case,—and of course with +official documents before them, the +correctness of which could not admit +of a doubt,—arrived at precisely the +same result. The proposition for a +differential duty of ten shillings, which +was finally agreed to by the committee, +was actually made by a member +whose general opinions are understood +to lean towards the side of free trade,—we +mean Sir Thomas B. Birch, one +of the representatives for Liverpool.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This resolution of course implied a +direct condemnation of the Whig Act +of 1846, which the West Indians +bitterly complained of as a flagrant +breach of faith, and as having put the +coping-stone on their misfortunes. +It was the resolution of an independent +and intelligent parliamentary +committee, founded upon a mass of +evidence derived from every quarter; +and in a matter of this sort, wherein +so vast an interest as that of our +most valuable colonies was concerned, +it might have been expected that the +report would be treated with deference, +even though it might in some +degree impugn the sagacity of a +prime minister, by exposing the +results of his former reckless legislation. +Such was not the case. Had +the seven wise men of Greece sate +upon that committee, their report +would have been utterly indifferent to +Lord John, who immediately came +forward with a counter-scheme, which +had not even the merit of consistency +to give it colour. He proposed a +new sliding-scale of duties, the result +of which will be, that next year the +colonists will have a protection +against the slave-owners of seven +shillings in the article of clayed, and +five-and-sixpence in that of muscovado +sugar,—the boon to taper away annually, +until, in 1854, the protective +duty will be reduced to three shillings +on the one article, and two shillings +upon the other. This is the doom of the +West Indies,—and we expect nothing +less than an immediate stoppage of +the supplies for the maintenance of +the colonial governments. Robbed +as they have been, ruined as they are, +and all through a course of most reckless +and unprovoked legislation, it is +in vain to hope that any further capital +will be embarked in the cultivation +of these islands. For the benefit +of economists at home, and the clamourers +for cheap sugar, it may be as +well to record that this new sliding-scale +is to be accompanied with a <em>loan</em> +of £500,000, in addition to £160,000 +already guaranteed this session, for +the purposes of promoting immigration, +and that at a period when the +annual deficit was originally calculated +at <em>three</em> millions! The amendment +of Sir John Pakington, founded +upon the resolutions of the committee, +was negatived in a full house by the +small majority of fifteen.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This has been by far the most +important debate of the session; and +at one time it was confidently expected +that ministers would have been +defeated. Sir Robert Peel, however, +came to their rescue at the last stage. +Oleaginous and plausible as ever, the +wily baronet began his speech by +deploring the misfortunes of the West +Indians, repudiating mere pecuniary +considerations, and calling to mind +old struggles, in which these colonies +had stood by the side of the mother +country. This sympathetic introduction +boded little mercy for the parties it +seemed to favour. Sir Robert had acquiesced +in the Act of 1846, and it was +now rather difficult to back out from +that position. But soothing measures +might be adopted, the salaries of +governors defrayed by the mother +country, and <em>perhaps</em>, if, after due +consideration, it should be found expedient +to remove the blockading +squadron from the coast of Africa, +part of the sums so saved might be +devoted to colonial purposes. Then +came a discourse upon the merits of +irrigation, which would have done +credit to a lecturer in an agricultural +society. Finally, Sir Robert rested +his future hopes for the Indies upon +other, and what appear to us peculiarly +objectionable considerations. He +has no confidence in the tranquillity +of Cuba and Brazil, and he hints at +an insurrection of the slaves being +probable, if emancipation is not +granted. We shall not comment more +than lightly upon the decency of such +a hint. Desirable as emancipation +may be, it is, to say the least, questionable +whether it would be cheaply +bought by so terrible a catastrophe as +a general rising of the black barbarian +population against the whites; and in +the event of such a misfortune occurring +either in the above slave colonies +or in the United States, it is extremely +problematical whether our own dearly +bought emancipation would effectually +prevent the contagion from spreading +to the free colonies. But we will tell +Sir Robert a fact of which he ought +to be fully cognisant. The greatest +enemies and obstacles to emancipation, +in the Spanish and South American +States, have been himself and +his free-trading allies. It is well +known to many here, and notorious +in the West Indies, that at the very +time when the ill-advised Act permitting +slave-grown sugar to be introduced +into this country was produced, +negotiations were actually +pending in Cuba for the immediate +emancipation of the slaves. The +results of that Act were the instant +abandonment of such an idea, the +withdrawal of the slaves from the +coffee plantations to the sugar-fields, +double work rigorously enforced, and +an enormously increased importation +of human beings from the coast of +Africa. With such a bonus held out +to the Cuban planter, such a huge +increase of consumption in this country +as Lord John Russell gloatingly contemplates, +it would be utter insanity +to expect that emancipation can take +place through any other means than +blood, rapine, plunder, and incendiarism. +Sir Robert and the free-traders +have effectually precluded any +milder method. Had they been true +to the principles professed by this +country at the time of our own +emancipation, there is every human +reason to believe that by this time +Cuba would have been a free colony. +Had that event taken place, slavery, +and of course the slave-trade, would +have received its death-blow. But +now when we have given, and continue +to give, a direct premium to the +abhorred system, when we have shown +that we love its produce so much, as +to hold the welfare of our own colonies +as nothing in comparison, it is mere +Jesuitry to cant about the probability +of voluntary freedom. This is the +worst and most indefensible argument, +if, indeed, it can be brought within +the category of arguments, which has +yet been advanced from any quarter +in support of the false legislation and +determined opposition of ministers to +the just claims of the colonists.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the course of the debate a singular +discussion arose, which tends to +throw some light upon the management +of the Colonial Office. A most +important despatch upon the state of +Jamaica had been received from Governor +Grey, and this was withheld +from the select committee then sitting, +although Mr Hawes, the Under-secretary +for the Colonies, was directly +questioned as to its existence. We +do not wish to enter into the details +of this matter, or to cast any imputation +upon the probity of Mr Hawes, +who, in explanation, was fain to take +shelter under the plea of a mistake. +But the circumstance certainly did +look awkward, and the doubts, not +only of the House but of the country, +were far from being removed by the +extreme acrimony displayed by the +Premier, in his injudicious defence of +his subordinate. Never in our recollection +has a Prime Minister shown +so remarkable a want of temper and +of courtesy to a political opponent, as +was exhibited by Lord John Russell +in his reply to Lord George Bentinck. +We should be glad, for the sake of the +utterer, that the speech could be +erased from the pages of Hansard, +even were we to lose, at the same +time, the brilliant and withering reply +which it elicited from Mr D’Israeli. A +suppression certainly had occurred, +whether through mistake or otherwise; +and the matter was thought so serious +that Earl Grey volunteered an explanation +in the Upper House. He +had better have let it alone. New +charges of suppression were preferred; +and finally Earl Grey admitted that, +on one occasion at least, he had quoted +passages from a Jamaica memorial in +support of his argument, totally and +purposely omitting to read other sentences, +which gave a different construction +to the meaning intended to be +conveyed! This is popularly said to +be the method adopted by a certain +personage, who shall be nameless, +whenever he has occasion to quote +Scripture, and yet it is practised and +defended by a high official functionary! +We copy the remarks of our contemporary +the <em>Spectator</em>, as very apposite +on this occasion.</p> + +<p class='c010'>“The personal dispute about the conduct +of Lord Grey and Mr Hawes, and +the strictures of Lord George Bentinck, +which began on Friday last, have usurped +a large share of the week’s debates; not +altogether to so little purpose as most +personal squabbles, since it throws considerable +light on the administration of colonial +affairs. The general impression, +when all sides have had their say, is, +that Mr Hawes and Lord Grey did not +intend to cheat Lord George Bentinck’s +committee by the deliberate suppression +of evidence; but the very statements +made by ministers, in defence, unveil reprehensible +practices. It seems that the +routine of the Colonial Office is such as to +preclude any security against ‘mistakes’ +so grave as the withholding of most important +despatches. And Lord Grey +claims, as an admitted official privilege, +to pick out bits of evidence in his exclusive +possession, that make for a particular +view, although those bits may be torn from +a context that should perfectly refute that +particular view! In effect, he upholds the +doctrine that a government is not bound to +lay before parliament all the information +that reaches the departments, even though +that information be not of a secret kind, +but may select such parts as go to bolster +up the preconceived crotchets of the minister +for the time being. In this case, Lord +Grey had preconceived crotchets hostile +to the West Indian colonies, whom he +treated as if he were the Attorney-General +prosecuting a state criminal. He has +carried beyond its usual bounds the spirit +of the <em>Anti</em>-Colonial Office, in Downing +Street. With this spirit of animosity the +Secretary for the Colonies coupled the +most singular exhibition of personal +trifling, and self-worship. He appealed +to the name of his father, as a reason for +not accusing himself! and pointed to the +‘awful warning across the Channel,’ as +a reason for not preferring charges calculated +to weaken English statesmen. +‘Don’t talk of inefficiency or dishonesty,’ +cries he—‘it is dangerous; for such talk +has upset governments abroad.’ Yes, +shaky and dishonest governments; but +what is Lord Grey afraid of?”</p> + +<p class='c007'>As for the sugar duties, we do not +by any means believe that this is a +final settlement of the question. If +free trade, indeed, should continue to +progress, there is not much hope for +the colonists; but, to the observant +eye, there are unmistakeable symptoms +of reaction apparent in this country, +and a very general sympathy for the +case of the West Indians. Our greatest +fear is, that irretrievable mischief will +be wrought before there is an opportunity +of applying a remedy. It seems +cruel mockery, after all that has happened, +to exhort the planters to persevere, +and to prevent those valuable +islands from lapsing into a state of +wilderness: and yet there seems no +alternative between such perseverance +and abandonment. This only we can +say, that should the commercial principles, +which we have advocated +throughout, be again recognised and +adopted—should true and not hollow +Conservatism once more triumph over +Whig effrontery and weakness, this +mighty grievance will assuredly be +the earliest redressed.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Referring again to the speech from +the throne as the text for the parliamentary +campaign, we find the Navigation +Laws specially marked out +either for modification or repeal. This +subject having been fully dealt with +in our July Number, we offer no further +remarks upon the policy which +dictated such a plan; indeed, no remarks +are necessary, for since then +the measure has been postponed. This +is a sorry result for ministers; for although +they plead, in justification, that +other important business had prevented +them from forcing on the consideration +of this very serious question, +their protestations do not seem to satisfy +the gentlemen who are most clamorous +against the shipping interest +of Britain. It has been more than hinted +in certain quarters, that this postponement +is a small stroke of Whig policy +or prudence, for the purpose of keeping +alive as long as possible a theme +of dissension among the Conservatives. +We offer no opinion as to this conjecture, +which may be substantially true +or not. Certain it is that the proposal +for the repeal of those laws has +been encountered, outside of the +House of Commons, with a storm of +disapprobation; and that, if the feeling +of the public, as opposed to the interests +of the exporters, has any weight +with the legislature, the ministerial +bill will be strangled before it can +receive the royal assent. So great +was the anxiety displayed, that on the +day after it became known in Glasgow +that the bill was not to be pushed +forward this session, every vessel in +the Clyde was decorated with flags, +in token of thankfulness for the respite. +We hope that every advantage +will be taken in the interval to force +upon the attention of parliament the +resolution of the well-affected people +of this country, to maintain intact +that law which has been the source of +our naval supremacy, and which was +declared, by no less an authority than +Adam Smith, to be as wise as if it +had been dictated by the most deliberate +wisdom.</p> + +<p class='c008'>A considerable number of minor +bills have been quietly allowed to +drop. This is not matter of lamentation, +for, as far as we could comprehend +the principle of most of them, +they were utterly worthless and uncalled +for. The Bill for the Removal +of the Jewish Disabilities was, we rejoice +to say, thrown out in the House +of Lords, the peers being of opinion +that the British Legislature should +continue a Christian assembly. Lord +John, in the plenitude of his zeal for +the Sanhedrim, gave notice of a motion +for altering the form of the oaths required +to be taken by each member of +Parliament at his admission, and so +introducing the Jew by a convenient +little postern. But somehow or other, +as the session progressed, the ardour +of the Premier cooled, and Baron +Rothschild is at present left with as +little chance of adorning the benches +of St Stephens as ever. Mr Joseph +Hume and his party have got up a +radical alliance, for the extension of +the suffrage and various other organic +schemes, and it was understood that +Sir Joshua Walmsley was to have the +honour of leading the movement. +Unfortunately, however, before the +day of debate had arrived, Sir Joshua +had been unseated in consequence of +certain acts of bribery which had taken +place in connexion with the borough +of Leicester, so that the purists had +to march to battle under the chieftainship +of the veteran of Montrose. They +were beaten hollow: but at a later +period of the session, the carelessness +of ministers gave a temporary triumph +to the same parties, resolutions in +favour of the ballot having been passed +by a small majority. This vote is of +no importance whatever, save in so +far as it demonstrates the utter helplessness +of the Whigs when left to +their own resources.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Whilst upon the subject of shelving, +let us remark that the Scottish Registration +and Marriage Bills have +shared a similar fate. Of this we +are devoutly glad. Not a single +petition has been presented in their +favour; and though no doubt the +registration of births, and a stricter +law of marriage, may be desirable, we +think it might be quite possible to +accomplish both objects, without creating +a new and expensive staff of +functionaries, or holding forth a prospect +of entire immunity to seduction. +Possibly at a later period we may +take an opportunity of examining +these postponed measures in detail.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Two more questions remain, and +then the history of the session is +ended. They are of vast importance—Ireland, +and our foreign policy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The opening of the session found +Ireland in a state of agrarian outrage. +Agitation was doing its work, +and murder was rife on every hand. +Foremost in stirring up the people, +most determined in hounding them +on, were the Roman Catholic priesthood; +and we trust that this fact will +not be forgotten by those who are now +meditating to buy their silence. Individuals +were openly denounced from +the altar, and next day shot down by +the assassin. The most seditious language +was used by these cassocked traitors +towards the British government; +and even the higher dignitaries of their +church sought to stimulate the passions +of the populace by the most barefaced +and impudent misrepresentation. +Hear Archdeacon Laffan at Cashel, +upon a Sunday, surrounded by some +fifteen thousand of the peasantry, and +backed by that notable worthy, Mr +John O’Connell, and three other members +of Parliament—“The Saxon +scoundrel, with his bellyful of Irish +meat, could very well afford to call his +poor, honest, starving fellow-countrymen +savages and assassins; but if in +the victualling department John Bull +suffered one-fifth of the privations to +which the Tipperary men were subject, +if he had courage enough, he +would stand upon one side, <em>and shoot +the first man he could meet with a decent +coat on his back</em>—(Cheers.) But +the Saxon had not courage to do any +thing like a man; he growls out like +a hungry tiger!” At the time when +this expositor of the Christian doctrine +was raving to his miserable flock, +the following was the condition of the +Established clergy. One of them, +writing from King’s County, described +his position—“For nearly twenty +years I have been a minister of the +Established Church; and during that +time I have had nothing whatever to +do with tithes, for my benefice is a +chapelry of £90 a-year, and is paid +partly out of land set apart for the +purpose, and partly by the ecclesiastical +commissioners of Ireland, from a +fund bequeathed to small livings by +Primate Boulter.” He had devoted +much attention to the employment of +the poor; had never shown favour or +partiality to any one sect; had lived +simply, and attended to his duties; +had never brought an ejectment, or +taken any other law proceedings, +against a tenant. “What, then,” +continued he, “was my surprise and +horror to find an assassin lying in +wait for me for three successive days; +and—for this is still more horrifying—that +most of the people of the neighbourhood +where I live have been so +far from expressing joy at the escape +I have made, that they show evident +disappointment at my not being +shot!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>We have often marvelled what must +be the impression of foreigners after +reading such speeches as are usually +delivered at an Irish assembly, by men +who cannot plead utter ignorance in +extenuation of the language they employ. +They must, we presume, imagine +that “the Saxon” has taken forcible +possession of the whole of Ireland; that +the natives are no better than serfs—unprotected +by any laws, and liable +to be beaten, plundered, and massacred +at the pleasure of the invaders; +that, on the approach of each harvest, +hordes of the Saxons repair to the +fertile fields of the Celt, reap them +with a sickle in the one hand and a +musket in the other, and then carry +off the produce, without leaving a +single doit in reparation. He would +imagine that the women are forced, +the men defrauded, and the houses +pillaged at pleasure; that the Roman +Catholics are hunted down like wild +beasts, by armies of bloodthirsty Protestants; +that the exercise of their +faith is denied them; and that they +are allowed no voice whatever in +the national representation. Some +such conception as this he must form +from the harangues which have constituted +the staple of Conciliation Hall +for more years than we care to reckon. +But what would be his amazement +were he told that Ireland is governed +by precisely the same laws as the +sister country; that property is equally +protected, and life endangered only by +the brutality of the Celtic assassin; +that Ireland is specially exempted from +several of the taxes which press most +heavily upon the industrious classes +of Great Britain; that on the last +occasion of famine, upwards of nine +millions of public, and a vast amount +of private money, was given for the +support of her poor; that Roman +Catholic colleges have been munificently +endowed; that Ireland has her +full share of representation in the imperial +Parliament, and that upwards +of one half of the time of the House +of Commons is occupied with measures +tending to the amelioration of the +Irish people! If he were told all this—and +it is no more than the naked +truth—what would be his astonishment? +And yet so it is. Ireland +has persisted, and is persisting, in her +course of sedition without a grievance, +of murder without provocation, of +black and brutal ingratitude without +even the shadow of an excuse!</p> + +<p class='c008'>It is impossible to find language too +strong to characterise the guilt of the +individuals, lay or clerical, who have +spent the better part of their mean +and mischievous existence in misleading +their rude and ignorant fellow-countrymen. +They are the moral +nuisances who have always stood in +the way of Ireland’s progression and +happiness. But for them, there would +have been no absenteeism, no heart-burning +between the landlord and the +tenant. The people would gradually +have learned habits of industry and +providence, and instead of whooping +through the country like maniacs, +shouting and yelling for repeal, which +if granted, would make an utter hell +of Ireland, they would be tilling the +ground, or usefully employed in the +development of that capital which no +one dare hazard at present in their +mad and turbulent districts. For all +these things we do not blame, but execrate +O’Connell and his tribe. The +grasping selfishness of that family +has for the last few years been the +greatest curse to Ireland; and the +crimes of other and inferior agitators +shrink into insignificance, compared +with the moral turpitude of the men +who have deliberately fattened upon +their country’s ruin.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mr John O’Connell, having previously +declared his intention of dying +on the floor of the House of Commons +rather than permit the passing of a +Coercion Bill to restrain his countrymen +from murder, did in effect make +his appearance in St Stephens, but by +no means with a suicidal intention. +One of his earliest speeches is worth +preserving, as it exhibits, in a most +extraordinary degree, the hereditary +power of mendicancy. “If they had +a reverence for human life, let them +extend it to the people of Ireland. +Give money. He asked for money. +He heard the laughter of honourable +gentlemen; but he could tell them that +they ought to give money, and that it +was their duty to do so. Charge them +for the money if they liked, but at all +events let them save the lives of the +people. He did not expect to be met +otherwise than with laughter; and he +was bound to say that he never saw in +that House one single real thought for +the interest of Ireland. (<em>Great laughter.</em>) +He begged to say, that he had +made that remark hastily and hotly, +but now he repeated it deliberately +and coolly. Whenever the interests of +Ireland came into competition with +those of England, they were invariably +sacrificed. And if he did ask money, +had he not a right to do so? In a few +nights a motion would come on, and +then he would prove that they owed +it!” No man certainly ever did more +credit to his profession. Brought up +under the most able instructor of his +age in the art of begging, John O’Connell +exhibited on this occasion talents +of the highest order, which would have +made his fortune on the highway, unless +some stray traveller should have +mistaken the intentions of the suppliant, +and been over ready with his +pistol to prevent an anticipated robbery. +The vile ingratitude of this +man is almost equal to his audacity. +Great Britain, without the slightest +hope of any return, had impoverished +herself for the support of the Irish, and +yet here was the whole acknowledgment! +Even on the score of policy it +would have been wiser for Mr O’Connell +to have mitigated his tone.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Irish Crime and Outrage Bill +was introduced by ministers at an +early stage of the session, with the +general concurrence of all parties. +No one could doubt that it was especially +needed, but few were sanguine +that it would suffice to cure the spirit +of disaffection which was abroad. In +fact, Irish agitation has been allowed +to proceed to such a point, that the +evil is utterly incurable. What chance +is there of putting a stop to physical +force demonstrations, or, in other +words, to open rebellion, whilst another +gang of demagogues is permitted +to preach sedition under the guise of +moral force, and to fill the minds of +their deluded victims with every +species of misrepresentation and wild +hostility to Great Britain? Our +system of government towards Ireland +has been timid and weak, and +we are now paying the penalty. Our +charities have been given with far +too liberal a hand. Ireland has but +had to ask, in order to be relieved by +the public money: and this process +has been so often repeated, that what +at first was an extraordinary boon, is +now considered in the light of an indefeasible +claim. The Irish peasant will +not work, will do nothing to better +his own position, because he believes +that, in his hour of need, he will be +supported by British alms. We wish +we could believe that this scandalous +and sordid spirit was confined to the +peasantry alone. It is not so. A +general scramble takes place on each +fresh issue of bounty, and rich and +poor, high and low, among the +repealers, press clamorously forward +for their share. Never was money +more absurdly, more mischievously +misapplied, than the great government +grants on occasion of the famine. +Had the proposals of Lord George +Bentinck been agreed to, and the +money given by way of loan for construction +of the Irish railroads, not +only would the government have held +some security for repayment, or, at +all events, a vested interest in the +works, but a useful improvement +would have been effected in the heart +of the country, and a new element +of civilisation introduced. But the +scheme was rejected, for no other +reason, we believe, than because it +was suggested by a political opponent, +and the millions granted by Britain +have been squandered in making +good roads bad, in trenching mosses, +draining waste lands, and what not. +The expenditure has been lost to this +country, and has not had the effect +of awakening the slightest spark of +gratitude or respect for the quarter +whence it came. Ireland must be +disabused on one point. These grants +are not annual, and cannot be continued. +The time has come when +Ireland must be put upon precisely +the same footing of taxation with the +sister kingdoms—she must be forced +to forego pauperism, and in future to +rely on her industry, and on her own +resources. Ireland is at least four +times as fertile in soil as Scotland, +and there can be no reason whatever +why she should be exempt from +burdens which apply to the latter, and +moreover, like a sturdy beggar, be for +ever vociferous for relief.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Crime and Outrage Bill in some +degree fulfilled its purpose; for open +murder and assassination, if not extinguished, +were somewhat diminished +throughout the winter. Still the work +of sedition progressed. Old and Young +Ireland, ruffians both, were at loggerheads—the +older section finding a profit +in the shape of the weekly rent, the +younger and more conscientious one +thirsting for the hour when the dogs +of rebellion might be let loose. The +French revolution found Ireland in +this state, and no doubt aided to precipitate +the crisis. The visions of mere +repeal gradually faded before the more +brilliant and daring aspiration of an +Irish republic! France would probably +sympathise with Erin; and a deputation +was sent over to wait upon +Lamartine, then in the zenith of his +popularity, for the double purpose of +ascertaining the chances of assistance, +and of taking a flying lesson in the art +of constructing barricades. But the +members of the French Provisional +Government showed no alacrity in recognising +the Irish patriots, and distinctly +refused to interfere. Then it +became apparent, that if the Irish +party were determined to rebel, they +must do so without foreign aid and intervention; +and on their own ground, +and with their own weapons, be prepared +to cope with the Saxon.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It is but fair, in justice to the unfortunate +men who, since that time, +have suffered for their almost incredible +folly, to state that others, too +crafty or pusillanimous to approach +within grasp of the law, were at least +equally guilty in promoting agitation +after revolution had been triumphant +in France. John O’Connell thus wrote +from Paris a few days after Louis +Philippe had been driven from his +throne:—“Speak out, people of Ireland! +Speak from every city—every +valley—every hill—every plain! <span class='sc'>The +time is come!</span> The hour has arrived +when it is our instant right! when it +is England’s directest and most imperative +interest that we should manage +our own affairs in our own Parliament +at home!” It matters not, +in a moral point of view, though it +might be convenient for sheltering +purposes, that this note of sedition +was accompanied with advice to abstain +from crime and bloodshed. Such +advice goes for nothing with the million, +as O’Connell well knows; and, +furthermore, he knows this, that of all +the phantoms ever conjured up by +designing rogues and mountebanks, +this one of Irish repeal is the most +unlikely of realisation. What, then, +did the man mean by these words, +“<em>The time is come!</em>” save to stir up +the people to some demonstration, the +issue of which must have been massacre +and bloodshed?</p> + +<p class='c008'>We need hardly allude to the +effect of those appeals upon the +more hot-headed and determined of +the confederates. They no longer +preserved even the semblance of +loyalty, but, with a daring wholly +unexampled, gloried in the name of +traitors. At public meetings they +recommended the immediate arming +of the people—descanted, in terms of +gloating fondness, upon that “queen +of weapons” the pike—and the only +point of hesitation was the precise +period of the rising—whether it ought +to take place immediately, or be +postponed “until French steamers +were letting off their steam in Falmouth +and Portsmouth.” John +Mitchell, in the <cite>United Irishman</cite>, and +his coadjutors in the <cite>Nation</cite>, seconded +these views in a series of the most +inflammatory and villanous articles. +They propounded deliberate plans for +barricading the streets of Dublin; +displayed the most hellish ingenuity +in devising implements to be used +against the troops; attempted to persuade +their dupes, that, in the event +of a rising, the army would be found +on their side; and, in short, set every +law, human and divine, at defiance. +At this crisis, ministers failed to act +with that decision which was clearly +their duty. They should at once +have suspended the <em>Habeas Corpus</em> +Act, and arrested the whole of the +leading agitators. Such a course +would have struck terror into the +insurgents, before, emboldened by impunity, +and relying upon the want of +unanimity almost sure to prevail +among Irish juries, they had dragged +other misled individuals into a participation +of their guilt.</p> + +<p class='c008'>March, and a portion of April, +passed away before ministers took +courage to introduce the Crown and +Government Security Bill, under which +Mitchell was ultimately convicted. +In the discussions which took place, +Lord John Russell was evidently +sorely hampered by the opinions +which he had expressed when in +opposition, and the manifest discrepancy +of his measures with the principles +of the Whiggish creed. He +showed a disposition to truckle, when +he came to that portion of the bill +which declared that open and advised +speaking, of treasonable nature, should +henceforward be treated as felony, +and took it merely as a temporary +provision. A bolder front, at such a +time, would better have become a +British statesman.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Smith O’Brien and Meagher, two +of the most daring leaders of the faction, +were tried at Dublin in the +month of May, and escaped, the jury +being in neither case unanimous. +These trials may be memorable in +the history of the jurisprudence of +Ireland, for they distinctly prove that +the present system of trial is utterly +unsuited for that country. Nothing +could be clearer than the evidence +against both parties. O’Brien had +recommended the formation of an +Irish brigade in the United States. +Meagher’s recommendation was “up +with the barricades, and invoke the +god of battles.” Yet in the face of +this, the jury could not agree upon +their verdict. Mitchell was the first +person convicted under the new Act. +On the 27th of May, he was found +guilty, and sentenced to fourteen years’ +transportation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>No effort whatever was made, on +the part of the populace, to rescue +this misguided man. He had proclaimed +himself a felon, and he was +sent forth to undergo the punishment +of his crime. But this example, +stringent as it was, had no effect +whatever in repressing the spirit of +treason. The arming went on rapidly +as before, or rather in an augmented +ratio. Cargoes of muskets, and other +fire-arms, were openly shipped for +Dublin, and exposed for sale; their +destination and use were openly admitted, +and yet ministers did not seem +to consider it their duty to interfere! +The newspaper war continued. Fresh +journals sprang up to replace the +<cite>United Irishman</cite>, and the favourite +doctrines of Mitchell were enforced +with a ferocity and earnestness almost +equal to his own. Clubs, after the +fashion of those in Paris, were organised +throughout the country: drilling +began, and at length rebellion assumed +a tangible shape, the confederate +forces having been reviewed by Smith +O’Brien at Cork. On the 21st of +July, Dublin was proclaimed by the +Lord Lieutenant; and immediately +thereafter, and not a moment too +soon, ministry were compelled to suspend +the <cite>Habeas Corpus</cite> Act in Ireland.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As we are not writing a history of +this most abortive rebellion, we need +not follow its leaders throughout their +ignominious, and even cowardly +career. That a bubble, deemed so +gigantic, should have burst with so +miraculously small an explosion, may +hereafter be a source of wonder to the +chronicler; at present our only feeling +should be gratitude to the Almighty that +this affair has as yet been accompanied +with so little loss of human life. So far, +it is well; but it would be absolute +madness to suppose that the spirit of +rebellion has been extinguished. The +Irish people have been guilty of a great +crime. A large portion of them are, +without any doubt, rebels in their +hearts; and they must submit to be +treated as such, until we are satisfied +that their stubborn disposition is removed. +Great credit, it seems, is now +given in certain quarters to the +Roman Catholic clergy, for the part +they took in suppressing the late +disturbances; and we anticipate an +immediate burst of laudation, and +perhaps a promise of reward, in return +for their disinterested exertions. +If to foster rebellion in every possible +manner, whilst there is the least +chance of its success, and to preach +it down from the very moment when +the cause appears obviously desperate, +be an acceptable course, we freely +admit the claims of the priesthood to +the heartfelt gratitude of Britain: +upon no other ground whatever can +we see a reason for their recognition. +Let any man consider seriously and +impartially the history and proceedings +in Ireland for the last six months, +and he cannot fail, we think, to +arrive at the conclusion, that clerical +connivance is visible in every scene +of the drama. Smith O’Brien and +Mitchell, being both of them Protestants, +may have raised the banner +too early, and may have been sacrificed +with little scruple; but we repeat, +that we have no faith in that +interference which comes so very late, +and which, without any hyperbole, +may be said to have been forced at +the point of the bayonet.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As regards ministers, we think +their later measures have been taken +with a fair regard for the interests +of the imperial crown. Much they +might have done earlier; but, on the +whole, we are not inclined to quarrel +with their conduct. Lord John Russell, +in the course of late events, has +received a more wholesome lesson in +the practical science of legislation +than was ever vouchsafed him before. +His Lordship’s eyes are now, we +hope, opened to the fallacy of some of +the cherished Whig propositions. He +has learned that there are times when +a government must have recourse to +extraordinary measures, if it is sincere +in its wish to maintain the integrity +of the crown and the constitution: +and that although the liberty +of the subject, and the freedom of the +press, are undoubtedly most excellent +things, and capital toasts at Whig +propaganda banquets, neither of them +can be allowed to go so far as to +achieve a violent revolution. If +some slight tinge should be apparent +on the cheek of the Premier as he +reviews his past career, and reflects +on the inconsistency of his former +speeches with his present more energetic +conduct, we are willing to +attribute the blush to the most +amiable, and certainly the most +honourable of possible motives—the +acknowledgment of a cherished error.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But while we accord with satisfaction +this meed of praise to ministers, +it is impossible to forget that +the Whig party, by playing into the +hands of O’Connell and his followers, +have given a pernicious incentive to +the agitation which has ended in the +late revolt. There has been far too +much coquetting and trafficking with +the repealers,—far too little consideration +shown for the really loyal and +peaceable portion of the Irish people. +Is it possible to expect that any +credence will be given to the idea +that the Whigs are sincere and +determined in their opposition to the +repeal doctrines, when a high official +functionary like Sir William Somerville, +Chief Secretary of State for +Ireland, is found subscribing to the +fund raised for defending the return +of Mr Reynolds, the member for Dublin? +Is it, we say, decent that a +man in the position of the honourable +baronet should be allowed to +identify not only himself, but the +government to which he belongs, +with a party so diametrically opposed +to the best interests of the British +empire? If the Whigs are determined +to put down agitation in Ireland—and +put down it must be, at +whatever cost—let them show their +sincerity by dropping all connexion +with the agitators. These are not +times for truckling—least of all for +party purposes and pretension.</p> + +<p class='c008'>If there is an immediate return +to the old system of conciliation—if +that unhappy country is to be left +under the impression that Britain is +bound to support her, we may look for +another projected rebellion at no very +distant period. Ireland must be +taught to depend thoroughly upon +herself. The wages of idleness must +no longer be given her under any +circumstances whatever. We are +satisfied that the social misery of +Ireland proceeds mainly from the +injudicious system of eleemosynary +support, to which she has been so +long accustomed; for nowhere else +in the known world is there a land so +rich in resources, with a population +so utterly improvident. An end also +must be put, by the strong arm of +power, to agitation of every kind. +Jury trial requires remodelment; and +we hope that the very first Irish +measure which is introduced, will be +one for assimilating the system of jury +trial in criminal cases there with +that which has worked so well and +satisfactorily in Scotland. Let fifteen +men be impanelled, and let the +opinion of the majority be the verdict. +This would effectually prevent those +allegations about packing, which do +certainly detract from the moral +weight of such convictions as that of +Mitchell: it would strengthen the +hands of justice, and be especially +useful as a further preventive of +crime. The weal or the continued +misery of Ireland will depend very +much upon the character and complexion +of the measures which may +be introduced during the next session +of Parliament.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The progress of the revolutions +abroad has been any thing but peaceful. +On the Continent, the treaty of +Vienna has become a dead letter—a +mere antiquated sheet of parchment, +hardly to be appealed to by any of +the conflicting powers. War has +broken out in more than one point; +and though, during the last month, +there has been some prospect of compromise, +it is in vain to hope that +Europe will immediately subside into +its former tranquillity. Hitherto, +whatever may be said regarding the +internal economy of France, that +country has manifested no aggressive +spirit. Paris, the centre-point of the +volcanic eruption, has kept, and may +keep for some time, the soldiery in +full employment; and we are sincerely +of opinion that General Cavaignac, +now at the head of affairs in France, +has no personal disposition to undertake +a war of conquest. But the +position of Germany is very peculiar, +and her affairs so complicated, that +we may justly feel alarm as to the +issue.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We shall say little of the experiment, +so rashly undertaken by a number +of untried constitution craftsmen, +for welding together into one indissoluble +mass the political existence of +the different Teutonic tribes. It is +a project which, at first sight, may +appear sufficiently imposing; but when +we examine it more closely, it seems +fraught with insuperable difficulties. +To constitute a Regent for all Germany, +in whose hands is to be lodged +the sovereign administration of affairs, +is in fact to dethrone and mediatise the +whole of the reigning potentates. It +may be freely conceded that a number +of the smaller states might be +absorbed, and their names removed +from the map of Europe, without +causing any disturbance of the balance +of power; but, with regard to the +larger ones, the case is very different. +Will Austria, Prussia, Bavaria, and +Saxony, submit to surrender their +independence? Will the kings allow +themselves to be stripped of their +authority—of the power to make laws, +to proclaim war and peace, and to +levy and command their own armies? +We do not believe it. Austria may +not object at this peculiar juncture, +both because she is deeply engaged +in war for the recovery of Lombardy, +and because the present Regent is a +prince of her imperial family. Prussia +can hardly be the first to dissent, +because her monarch had the credit +of originating the idea of German +unity, under the illusion that he would +be nominated as the head. But unity +is not popular in Prussia, any more +than it is in Bavaria, and the moment +is fast approaching when this bubble +also must explode. We might look +upon the whole experiment with feelings +of pure curiosity, were it not that +incipient unity has been signalised by +an act of the most flagrant aggression. +We allude to the occupation of Schleswig-Holstein +by the Germans.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Denmark is one of those small states +in which the nationality is of the +most invincible kind. Circumscribed +in territorial space, the Danish people +are possessed of a courage and energy +which for centuries has continued undiminished; +and the more powerful +northern states are bound, if not by +treaty, at least by the strongest ties +of policy and relationship, to assist +their gallant neighbours in maintaining +their original position. Russia and +Sweden have already declared themselves +open allies of Denmark, and resolute +to maintain her against the +forces of Germany. The disposition +of England, and, we are glad to say, +of France also, tends towards the same +point; and such being the case, we +have great hopes that the Germans +will not be mad enough to persevere in +their unjustifiable course. A war in +the north of Europe, in which so many +great nations would be engaged, must +be a hideous calamity; and Germany, +if wise, should be the last country to +provoke it. But, as if to complicate +matters, the parliament at Frankfort +have manifested an intention of embroiling +themselves with Holland for +one of the ceded duchies.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It is no purpose of ours to speculate +upon events, and therefore we leave +the Danish question without further +comment. It will be extremely gratifying +if, after all the demonstration +which has been made, and the actual +collision between the Danes and the +Germans, peace can be re-established +without having recourse to the armed +interference of a northern confederation; +and it would be still more gratifying +if this desirable result should be +the effect of British mediation. But, +looking to the south of Europe, we +cannot approve of the policy which +Great Britain has since pursued, or +the attitude which Lord Palmerston +has chosen to assume towards a friendly +foreign power.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Our readers will not have forgotten +the surprise and suspicion which was +excited, about a year ago, by the absence +of a cabinet minister, who was +understood to be perambulating Italy +with a sort of roving commission. The +intention may have been friendly, but +the fact was both unusual and degrading, +and gave rise at the time to a +multitude of unpleasant suspicions. +Whether Lord Minto travelled in the +capacity of constitution-maker for +Italy we know not; but if so, as has +more than once been broadly alleged, +his attempts have been utter failures. +We hope it was not by his advice that +Charles Albert has done his best to +light up the flames of general war by +that ungenerous attack upon Austria, +which has ended so disastrously for +himself. Baffled on every hand—after +having sacrificed his army, and squandered +his treasure—the King of Sardinia +has been driven back into his +own country, amidst the execrations +of those whom he professedly came to +emancipate, and without a hope left +of gaining the diadem for which he +had perilled so much. The papal constitution +at Rome has by no means fulfilled +the hopes of the liberal advocates. +Pius, lately so popular, is +trembling in the Vatican, and the inhabitants +of the Eternal City are in as +much terror as if Attila were again at +its gates. We repeat that we do not +know how much share British councils +may have had in promoting these untoward +events; but this we know, that +it would have been far better if Lord +Minto had remained at home. For, +in the matter of Naples at least, we +have chosen to take a direct part, +which throws suspicion upon the tendency +of our whole negotiations with +the Peninsula.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sicily has chosen to cast off its +allegiance to the crown of Naples, +and to elect a sovereign of its own. +This is strictly a domestic contest, +and one in which we had no title +whatever to interfere. But mark +what has taken place. No sooner +was Naples—a country which has +also felt the revolutionary shock—quieted +by the granting of a constitution, +than King Ferdinand, desirous +of quelling rebellion in Sicily, is intimidated +from sending his squadron +for that purpose, by the appearance +of a British fleet off his own territory. +Against this unjustifiable demonstration +the King of Naples has protested, +declaring that he will hold any armed +interference between himself and his +subjects as tantamount to a declaration +of war on the part of the British +government. Lord Stanley—whose +conduct throughout the session, on all +questions connected with foreign or +colonial affairs, has been pre-eminently +distinguished for temperance, +rectitude, and ability, and who has +exhibited, in a remarkable degree, +every qualification requisite for the +leader of a great and national party—brought +the whole subject before the +consideration of the House of Lords: +but the explanations given by Lord +Lansdowne are not calculated to improve +our character for good faith, +whilst they may afford a ready apology +to other states for any act of aggression +whatever. Also, at a later period +of the session, Mr D’Israeli, in one of +those brilliant speeches for which he is +unrivalled, again demanded explanation +from the Foreign Secretary, and +took occasion to comment, with sarcastic +felicity, on the Minto pilgrimage +to Rome. We shall presently allude +to the reply which Lord Palmerston +thought proper to make.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The facts of the case, as admitted +by Lord Lansdowne, are shortly +these:—Britain was never asked to +mediate formally between the conflicting +parties. The Sicilians stood +in the position of rebels, victorious +perhaps on their own soil, but not, on +that account, released from an allegiance +which had been formally recognised +by Europe. They proceeded, +as all insurgents do, to debate upon +some form of government; and at this +point, it seems, the Foreign Office +thought fit to use its influence. Lord +Palmerston became a party to the +discussions of the revolted Sicilians, +to the extent at least of advising +them to select a monarchical instead +of a republican form of government; +with an assurance that, in that +event, Britain would recognise the +prince who might be elected by the +people.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This is neither more nor less than a +recognition of the right of revolt; and +we should like to know upon what +principle of the law of nations it can +be defended. It is one thing to +acknowledge the right of a nation to +change the character of its institutions,—as +for example, in the case of +France, which from a monarchy has become +a republic. Were we to undergo +the same organic change, France, +doubtless, would recognise us, and continue +the same relations with us under +the altered form of government. But +what if France had chosen to espouse +the cause of the Irish confederates? +What if—supposing our troops had +been defeated by a general rising, +and Smith O’Brien had been proclaimed +not only King of Munster, +but of Ireland—General Cavaignac +should have assured the rebels, that +he would recognise the descendant +of Brian Boru as the prince elected +by the people? Would not that +negotiation, that assurance, be treated +by England as an open declaration +of hostility,—an interference +which no circumstances could palliate, +and for which no explanation could +suffice? We apprehend there can be +no difficulty in answering the question, +and yet our position with regard to +Naples was precisely similar.</p> + +<p class='c008'>No official recognition of the independence +of Sicily has as yet taken +place. Her Britannic Majesty has +accredited no ambassador to that +court, nor does she know any thing +more of the King of Sicily than her +royal predecessor did of Theodore +King of Corsica. In all Sicilian +matters, as yet, this country nominally +recognises the supremacy of King +Ferdinand, who has in no way incurred +a forfeiture. Yet at the very +moment when that potentate has completed +his preparations for coercing +his rebel subjects, a British fleet +appears off his shores, and no explanation +has been vouchsafed of +the reasons which have brought it +there.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In answer to Lord Malmesbury, +who reiterated the question originally +put by Lord Stanley, “Is the fleet of +Admiral Parker to interfere with any +expedition which his Neapolitan +Majesty may send against his subjects +in Sicily?” Lord Lansdowne distinctly +refused explanation. So did +Lord Palmerston in answer to Mr +D’Israeli; and he further added, “that +it is not the practice of the government +of this country to announce to parliament +what the intentions of the government +are.” All that we shall say upon +that point is, that, even during the +present session of parliament, ministers +have more than once been particularly +eager to parade their intentions, without +even the formality of a question. +Such answers are very apt to make +distrustful people recollect that Naples +is but a small state, and not so formidable +as some others which have +led the van of revolution. But even +supposing that the Whig government +are not prepared to go the +length of violating treaties, and breaking +alliances by a direct and forcible +interference, this concealment is peculiarly +unwise at a moment when neutrality +is of the last importance. +Apart from this question of Sicilian +interference, no one wants to know +why Admiral Parker’s fleet is there. +It is not alone Lord Stanley or Mr +D’Israeli whose curiosity requires to be +gratified. The King of Naples believes +this armament is sent with intentions +hostile to him, and he has a right to +know whether Britain proposes to +throw an impediment betwixt him +and his revolted dominions. Are +ministers aware of the effect which +such ambiguous answers may have +upon the future policy of France? +General Oudinot, we know, is at the +head of a large army on the southern +frontier of France, and Charles Albert +has notoriously solicited assistance +from that quarter. What if the French, +drawing their own deduction from the +fact of the fleet being there, and +all explanation refused, should choose +to assume that we have exceeded the +bounds of neutrality, and are now +coercing the King of Naples?—what +if they should march an army to the +support of the Piedmontese, again +make Lombardy a field of battle, and +throw all Europe into irretrievable +confusion, by engaging in hostilities +with Austria? Is that contingency +so remote that we can afford to indulge +in mysteries, and peril the fair fame +of England’s open dealing for a paltry +Palmerston intrigue?</p> + +<p class='c008'>If we contemplate seriously the +whole course of our foreign policy, in +so far as regards Italy, we cannot fail +to be impressed with the idea that the +Whigs have given undue countenance +to the late insurrectionary movements. +Great Britain might have come forward +honourably at the commencement +of the Lombardy campaign to +stop the effusion of blood and the +horrors of war, by the offer of a +timely mediation; but no such step +was taken. On the contrary, our +Cabinet remained quiescent and looked +on approvingly, so long as success +appeared to favour the Sardinian +arms: it is only after the invader has +been beaten back, and driven within +the frontiers of his own kingdom—after +Austria has redeemed by force +all her Lombard territory, that Lord +Palmerston, and his new ally Cavaignac, +have thought fit to tender their +good offices. We may safely ask—what +good purpose can be achieved +by this very late intervention? Who +are the parties whose quarrel is to be +taken up? Mr D’Israeli put the +matter well when he asked,—First, +what was to be the principle of this +mediation; secondly, what was to be +the motive of the mediation; and +thirdly, what was the end proposed to +be attained by the mediation? The +motive, we are assured, is the preservation +of peace, and we fully subscribe +to its importance; but on all +other matters we are left as thoroughly +in the dark as ever. Really this +mystery is, to say the least of it, tantalising; +and we would fain know +whether Austria is the party who has +taken the initiative, in securing the +advice of two peace-makers like +Palmerston and Cavaignac. Austria +has recovered the possessions guaranteed +her by the faith of the leading +states of Europe, has put down insurrection, +and driven back in rout and terror +the invading Sardinian over his own +frontier. There remains no body of +her revolted subjects in a position to +ask for mediation. As for Charles +Albert, he is not, we presume, either +King of Italy or Lord of Lombardy, +neither have we heard of any other +claim, save that of sympathy, which +could entitle him to enter into the +contest. Personally he had no wrong +to avenge; but having chosen to +espouse the cause of the rebels, and +to encounter the risks of war, he is +surely not entitled, especially after +defeat, to insist upon any conditions. +If Austria shall choose, of her own +free will and accord, to cede possession +of Lombardy, it will be a mere +act of grace, which cannot be +demanded from her by any state in +Europe. But she is clearly entitled +to dictate, and not to receive conditions; +and any interference with her +guaranteed and fully recovered rights, +either on the part of England or of +France, would be tantamount to a +declaration of war.</p> + +<p class='c008'>From first to last, therefore, we +condemn the course which has been +pursued by the British foreign minister +with reference to the affairs of +Italy, as undignified, unconstitutional, +and mischievous. It has naturally +lowered the estimate of our character +in the eyes of the Italian people, +whose own fondness for intrigue does +not prevent them from despising that +system, when pursued on the part of a +strong and powerful nation. Minto +jobbing has proved an utter failure. +It may not indeed have been unproductive +in results, for it has materially +stimulated sedition, but certainly it +has not tended to the preservation of +peace, or the consolidation of government +in Italy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lord Palmerston has not been happy +for the present year in his foreign +relations. Some gratuitous advice to +Spain, which he no doubt tendered +with the best possible intentions, was +ignominiously returned upon his hand; +and this affront was followed up by +another still more serious, for our +ambassador at Madrid was dismissed. +Such are the results of constant meddling +with the institutions of foreign +states, or prying into their domestic +arrangements, and of everlastingly tendering +unsolicited and unpalatable +advice. We do Lord Palmerston the +justice to believe, that he is the last +man in the world who would brook +such conduct at the hands of others. +Why then will he persist in acting the +part of Mentor to all the states of +Europe, at the risk of attracting insult +to himself, and of materially endangering +the character and position of +his country?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Whether we regard the conduct of +the present ministry at home or +abroad, in domestic or in foreign +relations, we find little to praise, and +much which we must conscientiously +condemn. Late events do not seem to +have conveyed to them any important +lesson. Diminished exports, want of +reciprocity, and the disorganisation +of affairs on the Continent, have +effected as yet no change in their +commercial policy. They are still +determined to persevere in the course +which they have unfortunately adopted, +and to neglect the home and colonial +markets for the desperate chance of +pushing exportation further. By delaying +to make any provision for the +relaxation of the odious Bank Restriction +Acts—by placing upon the committee +of the House of Commons +men whose financial reputation depended +upon the maintenance of these +measures—they have again exposed +the country to a recurrence of that +crisis which, in November last, was +so near a fatal termination. Who +shall answer for it that a fresh drain +of bullion will not take place this +autumn? If the harvest shall prove +deficient, such undoubtedly may be +the case, and the mercantile world +will be left without the means of +accommodation at the moment of its +utmost need.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When we look at the long period of +tranquillity which this country has +enjoyed since the peace—when we +reflect upon the extension of trade, +the increase of our colonies, the apparent +accumulation of wealth at home, +the development of industry, and the +enormous social improvements which +have resulted from the progress of +science—it seems almost miraculous +that any combination of circumstances +should so rapidly have involved us in +financial embarrassments. Those embarrassments +are marked by the price +of money and its fluctuations, by the +difficulty of accommodation, by the +unprecedented decline in the value of +every kind of property, by the amount +of unemployed labour in the market, +and by the long list of bankruptcies. +We ask for an explanation of these +phenomena, and we are referred to a +failure of the potato crop! The political +economists will not acknowledge +the share they have had in the production +of such lamentable results—but, +fortunately, they cannot alter +dates; and one thing at least is incontestible, +that the commencement +of the period of decline corresponds +exactly with that of Sir Robert Peel’s +fiscal and currency measures. It may +have been that we were previously in +danger from the want of these, but the +country neither knew nor felt it. The +change was made, and since then our +prospects have been dark and gloomy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Parliament has utterly failed, during +last session, to suggest any remedy +for the general distress. It must fail +so to do, until it is called together +under the auspices of a Cabinet imbued +with patriotic principles, aware +of the responsibility of their situation, +and thoroughly resolved to release +themselves from the trammels of a +system which has fraud and selfishness +for its foundation, and which +seeks to aggrandise a few at the sacrifice +of the industrious many. May +Heaven grant that such men may +speedily be called to the supreme +councils of the nation, and that this +may be the last session, the futilities +of which it is our duty to record, +under the imbecile and slovenly administration +of the Whigs!</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span> + <h2 class='c002'>TO A CAGED SKYLARK, REGENT’S CIRCUS, PICCADILLY.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c017'> + <div>BY B. SIMMONS.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c018'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in8'>The city’s stony roar around!</div> + <div class='line in10'>The city’s stifling air!</div> + <div class='line in8'>The London May’s distracting sound,</div> + <div class='line in10'>And dust, and heat, and glare!</div> + <div class='line in8'>She sings to-night who puts to shame</div> + <div class='line in8'>Her fabled sisters’ syren-fame;</div> + <div class='line in8'>And, swarming through one mighty street,</div> + <div class='line in8'>From all opposing points they meet;</div> + <div class='line in8'>And hurrying, whirling, madd’ning on,</div> + <div class='line in10'>The crashing wheels and battling crowd</div> + <div class='line in8'>Are coming still, and still are gone—</div> + <div class='line in10'>The Thunder and the Cloud.</div> + <div class='line in12'>But the gush of faint odours</div> + <div class='line in14'>From apple-tree blooms—</div> + <div class='line in12'>The dew-fall by starlight</div> + <div class='line in14'>In green mossy glooms—</div> + <div class='line in12'>The sob of low breezes</div> + <div class='line in14'>Through hill-lifted pines</div> + <div class='line in12'>Looking miles o’er lone moorlands</div> + <div class='line in14'>While evening declines—</div> + <div class='line in12'>The dying away</div> + <div class='line in14'>Of far bleats at the shealing,</div> + <div class='line in12'>The hum of the night-fly</div> + <div class='line in14'>Where streamlets are stealing—</div> + <div class='line in12'>All are floating, this moment, or mournfully heard,</div> + <div class='line'>(Distinct as lutes mid trumpets) round thy cage, heart-breaking Bird!</div> + <div class='line in8'>They heed, nor hear—that seething mass—</div> + <div class='line in10'>But storm and brawl and burst along,</div> + <div class='line in8'>Porter and Peer—the City class—</div> + <div class='line in8'>And high-born Beauty shrined in glass—</div> + <div class='line in8'>The pale Mechanic and his lass—</div> + <div class='line in8'>Thick as the scythe-awaiting grass,</div> + <div class='line in10'>In one discordant throng.</div> + <div class='line in8'>While, loud with many a clanging bell,</div> + <div class='line in8'>Some annual joy the steeples tell,</div> + <div class='line in8'>And waggons’ groan and drivers’ yell</div> + <div class='line in8'>The loud hubbub and riot swell;</div> + <div class='line'>Yet still the stunn’d ear drinks, through all, that liquid song.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in12'>And far sinks the tumult,</div> + <div class='line in14'>And takes the soft moan</div> + <div class='line in12'>Of billows that shoreward</div> + <div class='line in14'>Are lapsingly thrown,</div> + <div class='line in12'>When the stars o’er the light-house</div> + <div class='line in14'>Set faintly and few,</div> + <div class='line in12'>And the waves’ level blackness</div> + <div class='line in14'>Is trembling to blue.</div> + <div class='line in12'>Wing’d Darling of Sunrise!</div> + <div class='line in14'>How oft at that hour,</div> + <div class='line in12'>Where the grassy lea lovingly</div> + <div class='line in14'>Tufted thy bower,</div> + <div class='line in12'>Thy friends the meek cowslips</div> + <div class='line in14'>Still folded in sleep,</div> + <div class='line in12'>Didst thou burst, and meet Morning</div> + <div class='line in14'>Half way from the deep,</div> + <div class='line in12'>And circle and soar</div> + <div class='line in14'>Till thy small rosy wing</div> + <div class='line in12'>Seem’d a sparkle the far-coming</div> + <div class='line in14'>Splendour might fling!</div> + <div class='line in12'>How lavishly then</div> + <div class='line in14'>On the night-hidden hill</div> + <div class='line in12'>Didst thou rain down thy carol</div> + <div class='line in14'>Deliciously shrill—</div> + <div class='line in12'>Still mounting to Heaven,</div> + <div class='line in14'>As thou didst rejoice</div> + <div class='line in12'>To be nearer the Angels,</div> + <div class='line in14'>Since nearest in voice!</div> + <div class='line in12'>And thy wild liquid warbling,</div> + <div class='line in14'>Sweet Thing! after all,</div> + <div class='line in12'>Leaves thee thus aching-breasted,</div> + <div class='line in14'>A captive and thrall.</div> + <div class='line in8'>For the thymy dell’s freshness and free dewy cloud</div> + <div class='line in4'>A barr’d nook in this furnace-heat and suffocating crowd.</div> + <div class='line in4'>No pause even here to list thy lay;</div> + <div class='line in6'>The human ferment working</div> + <div class='line in4'>Must on with unresisted sway</div> + <div class='line in4'>In bubbling thousands swept away,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor near thy cage be left <span class='fss'>ONE HERMIT-HEARER</span> lurking.</div> + <div class='line in8'>Twin minstrels were ye</div> + <div class='line in10'>Once in sunshine and shade</div> + <div class='line in8'>With <em>thy</em> hymns to the Love-star,</div> + <div class='line in10'><em>His</em> rhymes to the Maid.</div> + <div class='line in8'>How sweet was it then,</div> + <div class='line in10'>As he linger’d at noon</div> + <div class='line in8'>Beneath trees dropping diamonds</div> + <div class='line in10'>In shower-freshen’d June,</div> + <div class='line in8'>Beloved of the Rainbow!</div> + <div class='line in10'>To mark thee on high,</div> + <div class='line in8'>Where violet and amber</div> + <div class='line in10'>Were arching the sky;</div> + <div class='line in8'>And to deem thou wert singing</div> + <div class='line in10'>Of comfort to him—</div> + <div class='line in8'>Of some Bow yet to brighten</div> + <div class='line in10'>His destiny dim!</div> + <div class='line in8'>From <em>thy</em> Cloud and <em>his</em> Dream</div> + <div class='line in10'>Long the glory is gone,</div> + <div class='line in8'>And the dungeon remains</div> + <div class='line in10'>To each desolate one:</div> + <div class='line in4'>And as vainly as thine would his spirit up-spring,</div> + <div class='line'>Beating against his prison-bar with faint and baffled wing.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span> + <h2 class='c002'>SONNET.—TO DENMARK.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c018'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in8'>Again the trumpet-blast of war is blown:</div> + <div class='line in8'>Again the cannon booms along the sea.</div> + <div class='line in8'>Now, may the God of Battles stand by thee,</div> + <div class='line in8'>True-hearted Denmark! struggling for thine own,</div> + <div class='line in8'>For right, and loyalty, and King, and throne,</div> + <div class='line in8'>Against the weight of frantic Germany!</div> + <div class='line in8'>Old Honour is not dead whilst thou art free—</div> + <div class='line in8'>Oh be thou faithful to thy past renown!</div> + <div class='line in8'>May the great spirit of thy heroes dead</div> + <div class='line in8'>Be as a bulwark to thine ancient shore:</div> + <div class='line in8'>And, midst the surge of battle rolling red,</div> + <div class='line in8'>Still be thy banner foremost as of yore;</div> + <div class='line in8'>Prouder than when it waved, to winds outspread,</div> + <div class='line in8'>On the broad bastion-keep of Elsinore!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span> + <h2 class='c002'>LIFE IN THE “FAR WEST.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c019'>PART IV.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>We have said that La Bonté was a +philosopher: he took the streaks of +ill luck which checkered his mountain +life in a vein of perfect carelessness, if +not of stoical indifference. Nothing +ruffled his danger-steeled equanimity +of temper; no sudden emotion disturbed +his mind. We have seen how +wives were torn from him without +eliciting a groan or grumble, (but +such <em>contretemps</em>, it may be said, can +scarcely find a place in the category +of ills;) how the loss of mules and +mustangs, harried by horse-stealing +Indians, left him in the <em>ne-plus-ultra</em> +of mountain misery—“afoot;” how +packs and peltries, the hard-earned +“beaver” of his perilous hunts, were +“raised” at one fell swoop by freebooting +bands of savages. Hunger +and thirst, we know, were commonplace +sensations to the mountaineer. +His storm-hardened flesh scarce felt +the pinging wounds of arrow-point +or bullet; and when in the midst of +Indian fight, it is not probable that +any tender qualms of feeling would +allay the itching of his fingers for his +enemy’s scalp-lock, nor would any +remains of civilised fastidiousness prevent +his burying his knife again and +again in the life-blood of an Indian +savage.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Still, in one dark corner of his heart, +there shone at intervals a faint spark +of what was once a fiercely-burning +fire. Neither time, that corroder of +all things, nor change, that ready +abettor of oblivion, nor scenes of +peril and excitement, which act as +dampers to more quiet memory, could +smother this little smouldering spark, +which now and again—when rarely-coming +calm succeeded some stirring +passage in the hunter’s life, and left +him, for a brief time, devoid of care +and victim to his thoughts—would +flicker suddenly, and light up all the +nooks and corners of his rugged breast, +and discover to his mind’s eye that +one deep-rooted memory clung there +still, though long neglected; proving +that, spite of time and change, of life +and fortune,</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c021'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span lang="fr">On revient toujours à ses premiers amours.</span>”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Often and often, as La Bonté sat +cross-legged before his solitary camp-fire, +and, pipe in mouth, watched the +blue smoke curling upwards in the +clear cold sky, a well-remembered +form appeared to gaze upon him from +the vapoury wreaths. Then would +old recollections crowd before him, +and old emotions, long a stranger to +his breast, shape themselves, as it +were, into long-forgotten but now familiar +pulsations. Again he felt the +soft subduing influence which once, in +days gone by, a certain passion exercised +over his mind and body; and +often a trembling seized him, the same +he used to experience at the sudden +sight of one Mary Brand, whose dim +and dreamy apparition so often +watched his lonely bed, or, unconsciously +conjured up, cheered him in +the dreary watches of the long and +stormy winter nights.</p> + +<p class='c008'>At first he only knew that one face +haunted his dreams by night, and the +few moments by day when he thought +of any thing, and this face smiled +lovingly upon him, and cheered him +mightily. Name he had quite forgotten, +or recalled it vaguely, and, +setting small store by it, had thought +of it no more.</p> + +<p class='c008'>For many years after he had deserted +his home, La Bonté had cherished +the idea of again returning to +his country. During this period he +had never forgotten his old flame, and +many a choice fur he had carefully +laid by, intended as a present for +Mary Brand; and many a <i><span lang="fr">gâge d’amour</span></i> +of cunning shape and device, worked +in stained quills of porcupine and +bright-coloured beads—the handiwork +of nimble-fingered squaws—he had +packed in his possible sack for the +same destination, hoping a time would +come when he might lay them at her +feet.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Year after year wore on, however, +and still found him, with traps and +rifle, following his perilous avocation; +and each succeeding one saw him +more and more wedded to the wild +mountain life. He was conscious +how unfitted he had become again to +enter the galling harness of conventionality +and civilisation. He thought, +too, how changed in manners and appearance +he now must be, and could not +believe that he would again find favour +in the eyes of his quondam love, who, +he judged, had long since forgotten +him; and inexperienced as he was in +such matters, yet he knew enough of +womankind to feel assured that time +and absence had long since done the +work, if even the natural fickleness of +woman’s nature had lain dormant. +Thus it was that he came to forget +Mary Brand, but still remembered the +all-absorbing feeling she had once +created in his breast, the shadow of +which still remained, and often took +form and feature in the smoke-wreaths +of his solitary camp-fire.</p> + +<p class='c008'>If truth be told, La Bonté had his +failings as a mountaineer, and—sin +unpardonable in hunter law—still possessed, +in holes and corners of his +breast seldom explored by his inward +eye, much of the leaven of kindly human +nature, which now and again +involuntarily peeped out, as greatly +to the contempt of his comrade trappers +as it was blushingly repressed by +the mountaineer himself. Thus, in +his various matrimonial episodes, he +treated his dusky <em>sposas</em> with all the +consideration the sex could possibly +demand from hand of man. No +squaw of his ever humped shoulder to +receive a castigatory and marital +“lodge-poling” for offence domestic; +but often has his helpmate blushed +to see her pale-face lord and master +devote himself to the feminine labour +of packing huge piles of fire-wood +on his back, felling trees, butchering +unwieldy buffalo—all which are +included in the Indian category of +female duties. Thus he was esteemed +an excellent <em>parti</em> by all the marriageable +young squaws of Blackfoot, +Crow, and Shoshone, of Yutah, +Shian, and Arapaho; but after his last +connubial catastrophe, he steeled his +heart against all the charms and coquetry +of Indian belles, and persevered +in unblessed widowhood for +many a long day.</p> + +<p class='c008'>From the point where we left him +on his way to the waters of the Columbia, +we must jump with him over a +space of nearly two years, during +which time he had a most uninterrupted +run of good luck; trapping +with great success on the head streams +of the Columbia and Yellow Stone—the +most dangerous of trapping ground—and +finding good market for his +peltries at the “North-west” posts—beaver +fetching as high a price as five +and six dollars a “plew”—the “golden +age” of trappers, now, alas, never +to return, and existing only in the +fond memory of the mountaineers. +This glorious time, however, was too +good to last. In mountain language, +“such heap of fat meat was not going +to ‘shine’ much longer.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>La Bonté was at this time one of a +band of eight trappers, whose hunting +ground was about the head waters of +the Yellow Stone, which we have +before said is in the country of the +Blackfeet. With him were Killbuck, +Meek, Marcelline, and three others; +and the leader of the party was Bill +Williams, that old “hard case” who +had spent forty years and more in the +mountains, until he had become as +tough as the parflêche soles of his +mocassins. They were all good men +and true, expert hunters, and well-trained +mountaineers. After having +trapped all the streams they were +acquainted with, it was determined to +strike into the mountains, at a point +where old Williams affirmed, from the +“run” of the hills, there must be +plenty of water, although not one of +the party had before explored the +country, or knew any thing of its nature, +or of the likelihood of its affording +game for themselves or pasture for +their animals. However, they packed +their peltry, and put out for the land +in view—a lofty peak, dimly seen above +the more regular summit of the chain, +being their landmark.</p> + +<p class='c008'>For the first day or two their route +lay between two ridges of mountains, +and by following the little valley which +skirted a creek, they kept on level +ground, and saved their animals +considerable labour and fatigue. Williams +always rode ahead, his body +bent over his saddle-horn, across which +rested a long heavy rifle, his keen +gray eyes peering from under the +slouched brim of a flexible felt-hat, +black and shining with grease. His +buckskin hunting-shirt, bedaubed until +it had the appearance of polished +leather, hung in folds over his bony +carcass; his nether extremities being +clothed in pantaloons of the same +material, (with scattered fringes down +the outside of the leg—which ornaments, +however, had been pretty well +thinned to supply “whangs” for mending +mocassins or pack-saddles,) which, +shrunk with wet, clung tightly to his +long, spare, sinewy legs. His feet +were thrust into a pair of Mexican +stirrups, made of wood, and as big as +coal-scuttles; and iron spurs of incredible +proportions, with tinkling drops +attached to the rowels, were fastened +to his heel—a bead-worked strap, four +inches broad, securing them over the +instep. In the shoulder-belt which +sustained his powder-horn and bullet-pouch, +were fastened the various instruments +essential to one pursuing +his mode of life. An awl, with +deer-horn handle, and the point defended +by a case of cherry-wood +carved by his own hand, hung at +the back of the belt, side by side +with a worm for cleaning the rifle; and +under this was a squat and quaint-looking +bullet-mould, the handles +guarded by strips of buckskin to save +his fingers from burning when running +balls, having for its companion a little +bottle made from the point of an antelope’s +horn, scraped transparent, +which contained the “medicine” used +in baiting the traps. The old coon’s +face was sharp and thin, a long nose +and chin hob-nobbing each other; and +his head was always bent forward, +giving him the appearance of being +hump-backed. He <em>appeared</em> to look +neither to the right nor left, but, in fact, +his little twinkling eye was everywhere. +He looked at no one he was +addressing, always seeming to be +thinking of something else than the +subject of his discourse, speaking in a +whining, thin, cracked voice, and +in a tone that left the hearer in doubt +whether he was laughing or crying. +On the present occasion he had +joined this band, and naturally assumed +the leadership, (for Bill ever +refused to go in harness,) in opposition +to his usual practice, which was to +hunt alone. His character was well +known. Acquainted with every inch +of the Far West, and with all the Indian +tribes who inhabited it, he never +failed to outwit his Red enemies, and +generally made his appearance at the +rendezvous, from his solitary expeditions, +with galore of beaver, when numerous +bands of trappers dropped in +on foot, having been despoiled of their +packs and animals by the very Indians +through the midst of whom old Williams +had contrived to pass unseen +and unmolested. On occasions when +he had been in company with +others, and attacked by Indians, +Bill invariably fought manfully, and +with all the coolness that perfect +indifference to death or danger +could give, but always “on his +own hook.” His rifle cracked away +merrily, and never spoke in vain; +and in a charge—if ever it came +to that—his keen-edged butcherknife +tickled the fleece of many a +Blackfoot. But at the same time, if +he saw that discretion was the better +part of valour, and affairs wore so +cloudy an aspect as to render retreat +advisable, he would first express his +opinion in curt terms, and decisively, +and, charging up his rifle, would take +himself off, and “cache”<a id='r2'></a><a href='#f2' class='c009'><sup>[2]</sup></a> so effectually +that to search for him was +utterly useless. Thus, when with a +large party of trappers, when any +thing occurred which gave him a hint +that trouble was coming, or more +Indians were about than he considered +good for his animals, Bill was +wont to exclaim—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do ’ee hyar now, boys, thar’s +sign about? this hos feels like caching;” +and, without more words, and +stoically deaf to all remonstrances, he +would forthwith proceed to pack his +animals, talking the while to an old, +crop-eared, raw-boned Nez-percé +pony, his own particular saddle-horse, +who, in dogged temper and iron +hardiness, was a worthy companion +of his self-willed master. This beast, +as Bill seized his apishamore to lay +upon its galled back, would express +displeasure by humping its back and +shaking its withers with a wincing +motion, that always excited the ire of +the old trapper; and no sooner had he +laid the apishamore smoothly on the +chafed skin, than a wriggle of the +animal shook it off.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do ’ee hyar now, you darned +crittur!” he would whine out, “can’t’ee +keep quiet your old fleece now? Isn’t +this old coon putting out to save ’ee from +the darned Injuns now, do ’ee hyar?” +And then, continuing his work, and +taking no notice of his comrades, who +stood by bantering the eccentric trapper, +he would soliloquise—“Do ’ee +hyar, now? This niggur sees sign +ahead—he does; he’ll be afoot afore +long, if he don’t keep his eye skinned,—<em>he</em> +will. <em>Injuns</em> is all about, they ar’: +Blackfoot at that. Can’t come round +this child—they can’t, wagh!” And at +last, his pack animals securely tied to +the tail of his horse, he would mount, +and throwing the rifle across the horn +of his saddle, and without noticing +his companions, would drive the jingling +spurs into his horse’s gaunt +sides, and muttering, “Can’t come +round this child—they can’t!” would +ride away; and nothing more would +be seen or heard of him perhaps for +months, when they would not unfrequently, +themselves bereft of animals +in the scrape he had foreseen, find him +located in some solitary valley, in his +lonely camp, with his animals securely +picketed around, and his peltries safe.</p> + +<p class='c008'>However, if he took it into his head +to keep company with a party, all felt +perfectly secure under his charge. His +iron frame defied fatigue, and, at night, +his love for himself and his own animals +was sufficient guarantee that the +camp would be well guarded. As he +rode ahead, his spurs jingling, and +thumping the sides of his old horse at +every step, he managed, with admirable +dexterity, to take advantage of +the best line of country to follow—avoiding +the gullies and cañons and +broken ground, which would otherwise +have impeded his advance. This +tact appeared instinctive, for he +looked neither right nor left, whilst +continuing a course as straight as possible +at the foot of the mountains. +In selecting a camping site, he displayed +equal skill: wood, water, and +grass began to fill his thoughts towards +sundown, and when these three requisites +for a camping ground presented +themselves, old Bill sprang from his +saddle, unpacked his animals in a +twinkling, and hobbled them, struck +fire and ignited a few chips, (leaving +the rest to pack in the wood,) lit his +pipe, and enjoyed himself. On one +occasion, when passing through the +valley, they had come upon a band of +fine buffalo cows, and, shortly after +camping, two of the party rode in +with a good supply of fat fleece. One +of the party was a “greenhorn” on +his first hunt, and, fresh from a fort +on Platte, was as yet uninitiated +in the mysteries of mountain cooking. +Bill, lazily smoking his pipe, called to +him, as he happened to be nearest, to +butcher off a piece of meat and put it +in his pot. Markhead seized the +fleece, and commenced innocently +carving off a huge ration, when a +gasping roar from the old trapper +caused him to drop his knife.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ti-yah,” growled Bill, “do ’ee +hyar, now, you darned greenhorn, do +’ee spile fat cow like that whar you +was raised? Them doin’s won’t shine +in this crowd, boy, do ’ee hyar, darn +you? What! butcher meat across +the grain! why, whar’ll the blood be +goin’ to, you precious Spaniard? +Down the grain I say,” he continued +in a severe tone of rebuke, “and let +your flaps be long, or out the juice’ll +run slick—do ’ee hyar, now?” But this +heretical error nearly cost the old +trapper his appetite, and all night long +he grumbled his horror at seeing “fat +cow spiled in that fashion.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>When two or three days’ journey +brought them to the end of the valley, +and they commenced the passage of the +mountain, their march was obstructed +by all kinds of obstacles; although +they had chosen what appeared to +be a gap in the chain, and what +was in fact the only practicable passage +in that vicinity. They followed +the cañon of a branch of the Yellow +Stone, where it entered the mountain; +but from this point it became a torrent, +and it was only by dint of incredible +exertions that they reached the summit +of the ridge. Game was exceedingly +scarce in the vicinity, and they +suffered extremely from hunger, having, +on more than one occasion, recourse +to the parflêche soles of their +mocassins to allay its pangs. Old +Bill, however, never grumbled; he +chewed away at his shoes with relish +even, and as long as he had a +pipeful of tobacco in his pouch, was a +happy man. Starvation was as yet +far off, for all their animals were in +existence; but as they were in a country +where it was difficult to procure a remount, +each trapper hesitated to sacrifice +one of his horses to his appetite.</p> + +<p class='c008'>From the summit of the ridge, Bill +recognised the country on the opposite +side to that whence they had just +ascended as familiar to him, and +pronounced it to be full of beaver, as +well as abounding in the less desirable +commodity of Indians. This +was the valley lying about the lakes +now called Eustis and Biddle, in +which are many thermal and mineral +springs, well known to the trappers +by the names of the Soda, Beer, and +Brimstone Springs, and regarded by +them with no little awe and curiosity, +as being the breathing places of his +Satanic majesty—considered, moreover, +to be the “biggest kind” of “medicine” +to be found in the mountains. +If truth be told, old Bill hardly relished +the idea of entering this country, +which he pronounced to be of “bad +medicine” notoriety, but nevertheless +agreed to guide them to the best trapping +ground.</p> + +<p class='c008'>One day they reached a creek full +of beaver sign, and determined to halt +here and establish their headquarters, +while they trapped in the neighbourhood. +We must here observe, that +at this period—which was one of considerable +rivalry amongst the various +trading companies in the Indian +country—the Indians, having become +possessed of arms and ammunition in +great quantities, had grown unusually +daring and persevering in their attacks +on the white hunters who passed +through their country, and consequently +the trappers were compelled +to roam about in larger bands for +mutual protection, which, although it +made them less liable to open attack, +yet rendered it more difficult for them +to pursue their calling without being +discovered; for, where one or two men +might pass unseen, the broad trail of +a large party, with its animals, was +not likely to escape the sharp eyes of +the cunning savages.</p> + +<p class='c008'>They had scarcely encamped when +the old leader, who had sallied out +a short distance from camp to reconnoitre +the neighbourhood, returned +with an Indian mocassin in his hand, +and informed his companions that its +late owner and others were about.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do ’ee hyar now, boys, thar’s +<em>Injuns</em> knocking round, and Blackfoot +at that; but thar’s plenty of beaver +too, and this child means trapping +any how.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>His companions were anxious to +leave such dangerous vicinity; but +the old fellow, contrary to his usual +caution, determined to remain where +he was—saying that there were Indians +all over the country for that +matter; and as they had determined +to hunt here, he had made up his +mind too—which was conclusive, and +all agreed to stop where they were, in +spite of the Indians. La Bonté killed +a couple of mountain sheep close to +camp, and they feasted rarely on the +fat mutton that night, and were unmolested +by marauding Blackfeet.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The next morning, leaving two of +their number in camp, they started in +parties of two, to hunt for beaver sign +and set their traps. Markhead paired +with one Batiste, Killbuck and La +Bonté formed another couple, Meek +and Marcelline another; two Canadians +trapped together, and Bill Williams +and another remained to guard +the camp: but this last, leaving Bill +mending his mocassins, started off to +kill a mountain sheep, a band of +which animals was visible.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Markhead and his companion, the +first couple on the list, followed a +creek, which entered that on which +they had encamped, about ten miles +distant. Beaver sign was abundant, +and they had set eight traps, when +Markhead came suddenly upon fresh +Indian sign, where squaws had passed +through the shrubbery on the banks +of the stream to procure water, as he +knew from observing a large stone +placed by them in the stream, on +which to stand to enable them to dip +their kettles in the deepest water. +Beckoning to his companion to follow, +and cocking his rifle, he carefully +pushed aside the bushes, and noiselessly +proceeded up the bank, when, +creeping on hands and knees, he +gained the top, and, looking from +his hiding-place, descried three Indian +huts standing on a little plateau +near the creek. Smoke curled from +the roofs of branches, but the skin +doors were carefully closed, so that he +was unable to distinguish the number +of the inmates. At a little distance, +however, he observed two or three +squaws gathering wood, with the usual +attendance of curs, whose acuteness in +detecting the scent of strangers was +much to be dreaded.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Markhead was a rash and daring +young <a id='t298'></a>fellow, caring no more for Indians +than he did for prairie dogs, +and acting ever on the spur of the +moment, and as his inclination +dictated, regardless of consequences. +He at once determined to enter the +lodges, and attack the enemy, should +any be there; and the other +trapper was fain to join him in the +enterprise. The lodges proved empty, +but the fires were still burning and +meat cooking upon them, to which +the hungry hunters did ample justice, +besides helping themselves to whatever +goods and chattels, in the shape +of leather and mocassins, took their +fancy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Gathering their spoil into a +bundle, they sought their horses, +which they had left tied under cover +of the timber on the banks of the +creek; and, mounting, took the back +trail, to pick up their traps and remove +from so dangerous a neighbourhood. +They were approaching the spot where +the first trap was set, a thick growth +of ash and quaking-ash concealing the +stream, when Markhead, who was +riding ahead, observed the bushes +agitated, as if some animal was making +its way through them. He instantly +stopped his horse, and his companion +rode to his side, to inquire the +cause of this abrupt halt. They were +within a few yards of the belt of shrubs +which skirted the stream; and before +Markhead had time to reply, a dozen +swarthy heads and shoulders suddenly +protruded from the leafy screen, and +as many rifle barrels and arrows were +pointing at their breasts. Before the +trappers had time to turn their horses +and fly, a cloud of smoke burst from +the thicket almost in their faces. +Batiste, pierced with several balls, +fell dead from his horse, and Markhead +felt himself severely wounded. +However, he struck the spurs into his +horse; and as some half-score Blackfeet +jumped with loud cries from their +cover, he discharged his rifle amongst +them, and galloped off, a volley of +balls and arrows whistling after him. +He drew no bit until he reined up at +the camp-fire, where he found Bill +quietly dressing a deer-skin. That +worthy looked up from his work; and +seeing Markhead’s face streaming +with blood, and the very unequivocal +evidence of an Indian rencontre in the +shape of an arrow sticking in his +back, he asked,—“Do’ee feel bad +now, boy? Whar away you see them +darned Blackfoot?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well, pull this arrow out of my +back, and may be I’ll feel like telling,” +answered Markhead.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do ’ee hyar now! hold on till I’ve +grained this cussed skin, will ’ee! +Did ’ee ever see sich a darned pelt, +now? it won’t take the smoke any how +I fix it.” And Markhead was fain +to wait the leisure of the imperturbable +old trapper, before he was eased of +his annoying companion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Old Bill expressed no surprise or +grief when informed of the fate of +poor Batiste. He said it was “just +like greenhorns, runnin’ into them +cussed Blackfoot;” and observed that +the defunct trapper, being only a Vide-pôche, +was “no account anyhow.” +Presently Killbuck and La Bonté +galloped into camp, with another +alarm of Indians. They had also been +attacked suddenly by a band of Blackfeet, +but, being in a more open country, +had got clear off, after killing two of +their assailants, whose scalps hung at +the horns of their saddles. They had +been in a different direction to that +where Markhead and his companion +had proceeded, and, from the signs +they had observed, expressed their +belief that the country was alive with +Indians. Neither of these men had +been wounded. Presently the two +Canadians made their appearance on +the bluff, galloping with might and +main to camp, and shouting “Indians, +Indians,” as they came. All being +assembled, and a council held, it was +determined to abandon the camp and +neighbourhood immediately. Old Bill +was already packing his animals, and +as he pounded the saddle down on the +withers of his old Rosinante, he muttered,—“Do +’ee hyar, now! this coon +’ull câche, <em>he</em> will.” So mounting his +horse, and leading his pack mule by a +lariat, he bent over his saddle-horn, +dug his ponderous rowels into the +lank sides of his beast, and, without a +word, struck up the bluff and disappeared.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The others, hastily gathering up +their packs, and most of them having +lost their traps, quickly followed his +example, and “put out.” On cresting +the high ground which rose from +the creek, they observed thin columns +of smoke mounting into the air from +many different points, the meaning of +which they were at no loss to guess. +However, they were careful not to +show themselves on elevated ground, +keeping as much as possible under the +banks of the creek, when such a +course was practicable; but, the bluffs +sometimes rising precipitously from +the water, they were more than once +compelled to ascend the banks, and +continue their course along the uplands, +whence they might easily be +discovered by the Indians. It was +nearly sundown when they left their +camp, but they proceeded during the +greater part of the night at as rapid a +rate as possible; their progress, however, +being greatly retarded as they +advanced into the mountain, their +route lying up stream. Towards +morning they halted for a brief space, +but started again as soon as daylight +permitted them to see their way +over the broken ground.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The creek now forced its way +through a narrow cañon, the banks +being thickly clothed with a shrubbery +of cottonwood and quaking-ash. The +mountain rose on each side, but not +abruptly, being here and there broken +into plateaus and shelving prairies. In +a very thick bottom, sprinkled with +coarse grass, they halted about noon, +and removed the saddles and packs +from their wearied animals, piqueting +them in the best spots of grass.</p> + +<p class='c008'>La Bonté and Killbuck, after securing +their animals, left the camp to +hunt, for they had no provisions of +any kind; and a short distance beyond +it, the former came suddenly upon a +recent mocassin track in the timber. +After examining it for a moment, he +raised his head with a broad grin, and, +turning to his companion, pointed into +the cover, where, in the thickest part, +they discerned the well-known figure +of old Bill’s horse, browsing upon the +cherry bushes. Pushing through the +thicket in search of the brute’s master, +La Bonté suddenly stopped short as +the muzzle of a rifle-barrel gaped +before his eyes at the distance of a +few inches, whilst the thin voice of +Bill muttered—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do ’ee hyar now, I was nigh giving +’ee h——: I <em>was</em> now. If I didn’t +think ’ee was Blackfoot, I’m dogged +now.” And not a little indignant was +the old fellow that his câche had been +so easily, though accidentally, discovered. +However, he presently made +his appearance in camp, leading his +animals, and once more joined his late +companions, not deigning to give any +explanation as to why or wherefore +he had deserted them the day before, +merely muttering, “do ’ee hyar now, +thar’s trouble comin’.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The two hunters returned after sundown +with a black-tailed deer; and +after eating the better part of the +meat, and setting a guard, the party +were glad to roll in their blankets and +enjoy the rest they so much needed. +They were undisturbed during the +night; but at dawn of day the sleepers +were roused by a hundred fierce yells, +from the mountains enclosing the creek +on which they had encamped. The +yells were instantly followed by a +ringing volley, the bullets thudding +into the trees, and cutting the branches +near them, but without causing any +mischief. Old Bill rose from his +blanket and shook himself, and exclaimed +“Wagh!” as at that moment +a ball plumped into the fire over which +he was standing, and knocked the +ashes about in a cloud. All the +mountaineers seized their rifles and +sprang to cover; but as yet it was +not sufficiently light to show them +their enemy, the bright flashes from +the guns alone indicating their position. +As morning dawned, however, +they saw that both sides of the cañon +were occupied by the Indians; and, +from the firing, judged there must be +at least a hundred warriors engaged in +the attack. Not a shot had yet been +fired by the trappers, but as the light +increased, they eagerly watched for an +Indian to expose himself, and offer a +mark to their trusty rifles. La Bonté, +Killbuck, and old Bill, lay a few yards +distant from each other, flat on their +faces, near the edge of the thicket, +their rifles raised before them, and the +barrels resting in the forks of convenient +bushes. From their place of +concealment to the position of the +Indians—who, however, were scattered +here and there, wherever a rock +afforded them cover—was a distance +of about a hundred and fifty yards, or +within fair rifle-shot. The trappers +were obliged to divide their force, +since both sides of the creek were occupied; +but such was the nature of the +ground, and the excellent cover afforded +by the rocks and boulders, and clumps +of dwarf pine and hemlock, that not a +hand’s-breadth of an Indian’s body +had yet been seen. Nearly opposite +La Bonté, a shelving glade in the +mountain side ended in an abrupt +precipice, and at the very edge, and +almost toppling over it, were several +boulders, just of sufficient size to afford +cover to a man’s body. As this bluff +overlooked the trapper’s position, it +was occupied by the Indians, and +every rock covered an assailant. At +one point, just over where La Bonté +and Killbuck were lying, two boulders +lay together, with just sufficient interval +to admit a rifle-barrel between +them, and from this breastwork an +Indian kept up a most annoying fire. +All his shots fell in dangerous propinquity +to one or other of the trappers, +and already Killbuck had been grazed +by one better directed than the others. +La Bonté watched for some time in +vain for a chance to answer this persevering +marksman, and at length an +opportunity offered, by which he was +not long in profiting.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Indian, as the light increased, +was better able to discern his mark, +and fired, and yelled every time he did +so, with redoubled vigour. In his +eagerness, and probably whilst in the +act of taking aim, he leaned too heavily +against the rock which covered him, +and, detaching it from its position, +down it rolled into the cañon, exposing +his body by its fall. At the same +instant, a wreath of smoke puffed +from the bushes which concealed the +trappers, and the crack of La Bonté’s +rifle spoke the first word of reply +to the Indian challenge. But a few +feet behind the rock, fell the dead +body of the Indian, rolling down +the steep sides of the cañon, and +only stopped by a bush at the very +bottom, within a few yards of the +spot where Markhead lay concealed in +some high grass.</p> + +<p class='c008'>That daring fellow instantly jumped +from his cover, and, drawing his knife, +rushed to the body, and in another +moment held aloft the Indian’s scalp, +giving, at the same time, a triumphant +whoop. A score of rifles were levelled +and discharged at the intrepid mountaineer; +but in the act many Indians +incautiously exposed themselves, +every rifle in the timber +cracked simultaneously, and for each +report an Indian bit the dust.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But now they changed their tactics. +Finding they were unable to drive +the trappers from their position, they +retired from the mountain, and the +firing suddenly ceased. In their retreat, +however, they were forced to expose +themselves, and again the whites +dealt destruction amongst them. As +the Indians retired, yelling loudly, the +hunters thought they had given up the +contest; but presently a cloud of +smoke rising from the bottom immediately +below them, at once discovered +the nature of their plans. A brisk +wind was blowing up the cañon, and, +favoured by it, they fired the brush on +the banks of the stream, knowing that +before this the hunters must speedily +retreat.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Against such a result, but for the +gale of wind which drove the fire +roaring before it, they could have provided—for +your mountaineer never +fails to find resources on a pinch. +They would have fired the brush to +leeward of their position, and also +carefully ignited that to windward, or +between them and the advancing flame, +extinguishing it immediately when a +sufficient space had thus been cleared, +and over which the fire-flame could not +leap, and thus cutting themselves off +from it both above and below their +position. In the present instance, +they could not profit by such a course, +as the wind was so strong that, if +once the bottom caught fire, they +would not be able to extinguish it; +besides which, in the attempt, they +would so expose themselves that they +would be picked off by the Indians +without difficulty. As it was, the fire +came roaring before the wind with the +speed of a race-horse, and, spreading +from the bottom, licked the mountain +sides, the dry grass burning like tinder. +Huge volumes of stifling smoke +rolled before it, and, in a very few +minutes, the trappers were hastily +mounting their animals, driving the +packed ones before them. The dense +clouds of smoke concealed every +thing from their view, and, to avoid +this, they broke from the creek and +galloped up the sides of the cañon on +to the more level plateau. As they +attained this, a band of mounted Indians +charged them. One, waving +a red blanket, dashed through the +cavallada, and was instantly followed +by all the loose animals of the trappers, +the rest of the Indians following +with loud shouts. So sudden was the +charge, that the whites had not power +to prevent the stampede. Old Bill, as +usual, led his pack mules by the lariat; +but the animals, mad with terror at +the shouts of the Indians, broke from +him, nearly pulling him out of his seat +at the same time.</p> + +<p class='c008'>To cover the retreat of the others +with their prey, a band of mounted +Indians now appeared, threatening an +attack in front, whilst their first assailants, +rushing from the bottom, at +least a hundred strong, assaulted in +rear. “Do ’ee hyar, boys!” shouted +old Bill, “break, or you’ll go under. +This child’s goin’ to câche!” and saying +the word, off he went. <i><span lang="fr">Sauve-qui-peut</span></i> +was the order of the day, and +not a moment too soon, for overwhelming +numbers were charging upon them, +and the mountain resounded with +savage yells. La Bonté and Killbuck +stuck together: they saw old Bill, +bending over his saddle, dive right +into the cloud of smoke, and apparently +make for the creek bottom—their other +companions scattering each on his +own hook, and saw no more of them +for many a month; and thus was one +of the most daring and successful +bands broken up that ever trapped in +the mountains of the Far West.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It is painful to follow the steps +of the poor fellows who, thus despoiled +of the hardly-earned produce +of their hunt, saw all their wealth +torn from them at one swoop. The +two Canadians were killed upon the +night succeeding that of the attack. +Worn with fatigue, hungry and cold, +they had built a fire in what they +thought was a secure retreat, and, +rolled in their blankets, were soon +buried in a sleep from which they +never awoke. An Indian boy tracked +them, and watched their camp. +Burning with the idea of signalising +himself thus early, he awaited +his opportunity, and noiselessly approaching +their resting-place, shot +them both with arrows, and returned +in triumph to his people with their +horses and scalps.</p> + +<p class='c008'>La Bonté and Killbuck sought a +passage in the mountain by which to +cross over to the head waters of the +Columbia, and there fall in with some +of the traders or trappers of the North-west. +They became involved in the +mountains, in a part where was +no game of any description, and no +pasture for their miserable animals. +One of these they killed for food; the +other, a bag of bones, died from sheer +starvation. They had very little ammunition, +their mocassins were worn +out, and they were unable to procure +skins to supply themselves with fresh +ones. Winter was fast approaching, +the snow already covered the mountains, +and storms of sleet and hail +poured incessantly through the valleys, +benumbing their exhausted limbs, +hardly protected by scanty and ragged +covering. To add to their miseries, +poor Killbuck was taken ill. He had +been wounded in the groin by a bullet +some time before, and the ball still +remained. The wound, aggravated by +walking and the excessive cold, assumed +an ugly appearance, and soon +rendered him incapable of sustained +exertion, all motion even being attended +with intolerable pain. La +Bonté had made a shanty for his +suffering companion, and spread a soft +bed of pine branches for him, by the +side of a small creek at the point +where it came out of the mountain +and followed its course through a little +prairie. They had been three days +without other food than a piece of +parflêche, which had formed the back +of La Bonté’s bullet-pouch, and which, +after soaking in the creek, they eagerly +devoured. Killbuck was unable to +move, and sinking fast from exhaustion. +His companion had hunted +from morning till night, as well as his +failing strength would allow him, but +had not seen the traces of any kind of +game, with the exception of some old +buffalo tracks, made apparently months +before by a band of bulls crossing the +mountain.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The morning of the fourth day La +Bonté, as usual, rose at daybreak +from his blanket, and was proceeding +to collect wood for the fire during his +absence while hunting, when Killbuck +called to him, and in an almost inarticulate +voice desired him to seat himself +by his side.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Boy,” he said, “this old hos feels +like goin’ under, and that afore long. +You’re stout yet, and if thar was meat +handy, you’d come round slick. Now, +boy, I’ll be under, as I said, afore +many hours, and if you don’t raise +meat you’ll be in the same fix. I +never eat dead meat<a id='r3'></a><a href='#f3' class='c009'><sup>[3]</sup></a> myself, and +wouldn’t ask no one to do it neither; +but meat fair killed is meat any way; +so, boy, put your knife in this old +niggur’s lights, and help yourself. It’s +‘poor bull,’ I know, but maybe it’ll +do to keep life in; and along the +fleece thar’s meat yet, and maybe my +old hump ribs has picking on ’em.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You’re a good old hos,” answered +La Bonté, “but this child ain’t turned +niggur yet.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Killbuck then begged his companion +to leave him to his fate, and strive +himself to reach game; but this alternative +La Bonté likewise generously +refused, and faintly endeavouring to +cheer the sick man, left him once +again to look for game. He was so +weak that he felt difficulty in supporting +himself, and knowing how +futile would be his attempts to hunt, +he sallied from the camp convinced +that a few hours more would see the +last of him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He had scarcely raised his eyes, +when, hardly crediting his senses, he +saw within a few hundred yards of +him an old bull, worn with age, lying +on the prairie. Two wolves were +seated on their haunches before him, +their tongues lolling from their mouths, +whilst the buffalo was impotently rolling +his ponderous head from side to +side, his bloodshot eyes glaring fiercely +at his tormentors, and flakes of foam, +mixed with blood, dropping from his +mouth over his long shaggy beard. +La Bonté was transfixed; he dared +scarcely to breathe lest the animal +should be alarmed and escape. Weak +as it was, he could hardly have followed +it, and, knowing that his own +and companion’s life hung upon the +success of his shot, he scarcely had +strength to raise his rifle. By dint +of extraordinary exertions and precautions, +which were totally unnecessary, +for the poor old bull had not a +move in him, the hunter approached +within shot. Lying upon the ground, +he took a long steady aim, and fired. +The buffalo raised its matted head, +tossed it wildly for an instant, and, +stretching out its limbs convulsively, +turned over on its side and was dead.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Killbuck heard the shot, and crawling +from under the little shanty which +covered his bed, saw, to his astonishment, +La Bonté in the act of butchering +a buffalo within two hundred yards +of camp. “Hurraw for you!” he +faintly exclaimed; and exhausted by +the exertion he had used, and perhaps +by the excitement of an anticipated +feast, fell back and fainted.</p> + +<p class='c008'>However, the killing was the easiest +matter, for when the huge carcass lay +dead upon the ground, our hunter had +hardly strength to drive the blade of +his knife through the tough hide of the +old patriarch. Then having cut off +as much of the meat as he could carry, +eating the while sundry portions +of the liver, which he dipped in the +gall-bladder by way of relish, La +Bonté cast a wistful look upon the +half-starved wolves, who now loped +round and round, licking their chops, +only waiting until his back was turned +to fall to with appetite equal to his +own, and capabilities of swallowing +and digesting far superior. La Bonté +looked at the buffalo, and then at the +wolves, levelled his rifle and shot one +dead, at which the survivor scampered +off without delay.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Arrived at camp, packing in a +tolerable load of the best part of the +animal—for hunger lent him strength—he +found poor Killbuck lying on his +back, deaf to time, and to all appearance +gone under. Having no sal-volatile +or vinaigrette at hand, La +Bonté flapped a lump of raw fleece +into his patient’s face, and this instantly +revived him. Then taking the +sick man’s shoulder, he raised him +tenderly into a sitting posture, and invited, +in kindly accents, “the old hos +to feed,” thrusting at the same time a +tolerable slice of liver into his hand, +which the patient looked at wistfully +and vaguely for a few short moments, +and then greedily devoured. It was +nightfall by the time that La Bonté, +assisted by many intervals of hard +eating, packed in the last of the meat, +which formed a goodly pile around +the fire.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Poor bull” it was in all conscience: +the labour of chewing a mouthful of +the “tender loin” was equal to a hard +day’s hunt; but to them, poor starved +fellows, it appeared the richest of +meat. They still preserved a small +tin pot, and in this, by stress of eternal +boiling, La Bonté contrived to +make some strong soup, which soon +restored his sick companion to marching +order. For himself, as soon as a +good meal had filled him, he was +strong as ever, and employed himself +in drying the remainder of the meat +for future use. Even the wolf, bony +as he was, was converted into meat, +and rationed them several days. Winter, +however, had set in with such +severity, and Killbuck was still so +weak, that La Bonté determined to +remain in his present position until +spring, as he now found that buffalo +frequently visited the valley, as it +was more bare of snow than the lowlands, +and afforded them better pasture; +and one morning he had the +satisfaction of seeing a band of seventeen +bulls within long rifle-shot of the +camp, out of which four of the fattest +were soon laid low by his rifle.</p> + +<p class='c008'>They still had hard times before +them, for towards spring the buffalo +again disappeared; the greater part of +their meat had been spoiled, owing to +there not being sufficient sun to dry it +thoroughly; and when they resumed +their journey they had nothing to carry +with them, and had a desert before +them without game of any kind. We +pass over what they suffered. Hunger, +thirst, and Indians assaulted them at +times, and many miraculous and hairbreadth +escapes they had from such +enemies.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The trail to Oregon, followed by +traders and emigrants, crosses the +Rocky Mountains at a point known as +the South Pass, where a break in the +chain occurs of such moderate and +gradual elevation as to permit the +passage of waggons with tolerable facility. +The Sweet Water Valley runs +nearly to the point where the dividing +ridge of the Pacific and Atlantic +waters throws off its streams to their +respective oceans. At one end of this +valley, and situated on the right bank +of the Sweet Water, a huge isolated +mass of granitic rock rises to the +height of three hundred feet, abruptly +from the plain. On the smooth and +scarped surface presented by one of +its sides, are rudely carved the names +and initials of traders, trappers, travellers +and emigrants, who have here recorded +the memorial of their sojourn in +the remote wilderness of the Far West. +The face of the rock is covered with +names familiar to the mountaineers as +those of the most renowned of their +hardy brotherhood; while others again +occur, better known to the science and +literature of the Old World than to the +unlearned trappers of the Rocky +Mountains. The huge mass is a well-known +landmark to the Indians and +mountaineers; and travellers and emigrants +hail it as the half-way beacon +between the frontiers of the United +States and the still distant goal of +their long and perilous journey.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was a hot sultry day in July. +Not a breath of air relieved the intense +and oppressive heat of the atmosphere, +unusual here where pleasant summer +breezes, and sometimes stronger gales, +blow over the elevated plains with the +regularity of trade-winds. The sun, +at its meridian height, struck the dry +sandy plain and parched the drooping +buffalo-grass on its surface, and its +rays, refracted and reverberating from +the heated ground, distorted every +object seen through its lurid medium. +Straggling antelope, leisurely crossing +the adjoining prairie, appeared to +be gracefully moving in mid-air; +whilst a scattered band of buffalo bulls +loomed huge and indistinct in the +vapoury distance. In the timbered +valley of the river deer and elk were +standing motionless in the water, +under the shade of the overhanging +cottonwoods, seeking a respite from +the persevering attacks of swarms of +horseflies and mosquitos; and now and +then the heavy splash was heard, as +they tossed their antlered heads into +the stream, to free them from the +venomous insects that buzzed incessantly +about them. But in the sandy +prairie, beetles of an enormous size +were rolling in every direction huge +balls of earth, pushing them with their +hind legs with comical perseverance; +cameleons darted about, assimilating +the hue of their grotesque bodies +with the colour of the sand: groups +of prairie-dog houses were seen, +each with its inmate barking lustily +on the roof; whilst under cover of +nearly every bush of sage or cactus +a rattlesnake lay glittering in lazy +coil. Tantalising the parched sight, +the neighbouring peaks of the lofty +Wind River Mountains glittered in a +mantle of sparkling snow, whilst Sweet +Water Mountain, capped in cloud, +looked gray and cool, in striking contrast +to the burned up plains which +lay basking at its foot.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Resting their backs against the +rock, (on which, we have said, are +<em>now</em> carved the names of many travellers,) +and defended from the powerful +rays of the sun by its precipitous +sides, two white men quietly slept. +They were gaunt and lantern-jawed, +and clothed in tattered buckskin. +Each held a rifle across his knees, +but—strange sight in this country—one +had its pan thrown open, +which was rust-eaten and contained +no priming; the other’s hammer +was without a flint. Their faces +were as if covered with mahogany-coloured +parchment; their eyes were +sunken; and as their jaws fell listlessly +on their breasts, their cheeks were hollow, +with the bones nearly protruding +from the skin. One was in the prime +of manhood, with handsome features; +the other, considerably past the middle +age, was stark and stern. Months +of dire privation had brought them to +this pass. The elder of the two +was Killbuck, of mountain fame; the +other hight La Bonté.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The former opened his eyes, and +saw the buffalo feeding on the plain. +“Ho, boy,” he said, touching his companion, +“thar’s meat a-runnin.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>La Bonté looked in the direction the +other pointed, stood up, and hitching +round his pouch and powder-horn, drew +the stopper from the latter with his +teeth, and placing the mouth in the +palm of his left hand, turned the horn +up and shook it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Not a grain,” he said—“not a +grain, old hos.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Wagh!” exclaimed the other, +“we’ll have to eat afore long,” and +rising, walked into the prairie. He +had hardly stepped two paces, when, +passing close to a sage bush, a rattlesnake +whizzed a note of warning with +its tail. Killbuck grinned, and taking +the wiping-stick from his rifle-barrel, +tapped the snake on the head, and, +taking it by the tail, threw it to La +Bonté, saying, “hyar’s meat, any +how.” The old fellow followed up his +success by slaying half a dozen more, +and brought them in skewered through +the head on his wiping-stick. A fire +was soon kindled, and the snakes as +soon roasting before it; when La Bonté, +who sat looking at the buffalo which +fed close to the rock, suddenly saw +them raise their heads, snuff the air, and +scamper towards him. A few minutes +afterwards a huge shapeless body loomed +in the refracted air, approaching +the spot where the buffalo had been +grazing. The hunters looked at it and +then at each other, and ejaculated +“Wagh!” Presently a long white +mass showed more distinctly, followed +by another, and before each was a +string of animals.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Waggons, by hos and beaver! +Hurrah for Conostoga!” exclaimed +the trappers in a breath, as they now +observed two white-tilted waggons, +drawn by several pairs of mules, approaching +the very spot where they +sat. Several mounted men were riding +about the waggons, and two on horseback, +in advance of all, were approaching +the rock, when they observed the +smoke curling from the hunters’ fire. +They halted at sight of this, and one +of the two, drawing a long instrument +from a case, which Killbuck voted a +rifle, directed it towards them for a +moment, and then, lowering it, again +moved forward.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As they drew near, the two poor +trappers, although half-dead with +joy, still retained their seats with +Indian gravity and immobility of feature, +turning now and then the crackling +snakes which lay on the embers +of the fire. The two strangers approached. +One, a man of some fifty +years of age, of middle height and +stoutly built, was clad in a white +shooting-jacket, of cut unknown in +mountain tailoring, and a pair of +trousers of the well-known material +called “shepherd’s plaid;” a broad-brimmed +Panama shaded his face, +which was ruddy with health and +exercise; a belt round the waist supported +a handsome bowie-knife, and +a double-barrelled fowling-piece was +<em>slung</em> across his shoulder.</p> + +<p class='c008'>His companion was likewise dressed +in a light shooting-jacket, of many +pockets and dandy cut, rode on an +English saddle and in <em>boots</em>, and was +armed with a superb double rifle, +glossy from the case, and bearing few +marks of use or service. He was a +tall, fine-looking fellow of thirty, with +light hair and complexion; a scrupulous +beard and mustache; a wide-awake +hat, with a short pipe stuck in +the band, but not very black with +smoke; an elaborate powder-horn +over his shoulder, with a Cairngorm +in the butt as large as a plate; a blue +handkerchief tied round his throat in +a sailor’s knot, and the collar of his +shirt turned carefully over it. He +had, moreover, a tolerable idea of his +very correct appearance, and wore +Woodstock gloves.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The trappers looked at them from +head to foot, and the more they looked +the less could they make them out.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“H—!” exclaimed La Bonté emphatically.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“This beats grainin’ bull-hide +slick,” broke from Killbuck as the +strangers reined up at the fire, the +younger dismounting, and staring with +wonder at the weather-beaten trappers.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well, my men, how are you?” +he rattled out. “Any game here? +By Jove!” he suddenly exclaimed, +seizing his rifle, as at that moment a +large buzzard, the most unclean of +birds, flew into the topmost branch of +a cottonwood, and sat, a tempting +shot. “By Jove, there’s a chance!” +cried the mighty hunter; and, bending +low, started off to approach the +unwary bird in the most approved +fashion of northern deer-stalkers. The +buzzard sat quietly, and now and then +stretched its neck to gaze upon the +advancing sportsman, who on such +occasions threw himself flat on the +ground, and remained motionless, in +dread of alarming the bird. It was +worth while to look at the countenance +of old Killbuck, as he watched +the antics of the “bourgeois” hunter. +He thought at first that the dandy +rifleman had really discovered game +in the bottom, and was nothing loth +that there was a chance of his seeing +meat; but when he understood the +object of such manœuvres, and saw +the quarry the hunter was so carefully +approaching, his mouth grinned +from ear to ear, and, turning to La +Bonté, he said, “Wagh! <em>he’s</em> some—<em>he</em> +is!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nothing doubting, however, the +stranger approached the tree on which +the bird was sitting, and, getting well +under it, raised his rifle and fired. +Down tumbled the bird; and the successful +hunter, with a loud shout, +rushed frantically towards it, and bore +it in triumph to the camp, earning the +most sovereign contempt from the two +trappers by the achievement.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The other stranger was a quieter +character. He, too, smiled as he +witnessed the exultation of his +younger companion, (whose horse, +by the way, was scampering about +the plain,) and spoke kindly to +the mountaineers, whose appearance +was clear evidence of the sufferings +they had endured. The snakes by +this time were cooked, and the trappers +gave their new acquaintances the +never-failing invitation to “sit and +eat.” When the latter, however, understood +what the viands were, their +looks expressed the horror and disgust +they felt.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Good God!” exclaimed the elder, +“you surely cannot eat such disgusting +food?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“This niggur doesn’t savy what +disgustin’ is,” gruffly answered Killbuck; +“but them as carries empty +paunch three days an’ more, is glad +to get ‘snake-meat,’ I’m thinkin.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What! you’ve no ammunition, +then?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“<em>Well</em>, we haven’t.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Wait till the waggons come up, +and throw away that abominable +stuff, and you shall have something +better, I promise,” said the elder of +the strangers.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes,” continued the younger, +“some hot preserved soup, hotchpotch, +and a glass of porter, will do +you good.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The trappers looked at the speaker, +who was talking Greek (to them.) +They thought the bourgeois were +making fun, and did not half like it, +so answered simply, “Wagh! h—’s +full of hosh-posh and porter.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Two large waggons presently came +up, escorted by some eight or ten stout +Missourians. Sublette was amongst +the number, well known as a mountain +trader, and under whose guidance +the present party, which formed a +pleasure expedition at the expense of +a Scotch sportsman, was leisurely +making its way across the mountains +to the Columbia. As several mountaineers +were in company, Killbuck +and La Bonté recognised more than +one friend, and the former and Sublette +were old compañeros. As soon as the +animals were unhitched, and camp +formed on the banks of the creek, a +black cook set about preparing a meal. +Our two trapping friends looked on +with astonishment as the sable functionary +drew from the waggon the +different articles he required to furnish +forth a feed. Hams, tongues, tins of +preserved meats, bottles of pickles, of +porter, brandy, coffee, sugar, flour, +were tumbled promiscuously on the +prairie; whilst pots and pans, knives, +forks, spoons, plates, &c. &c. displayed +their unfamiliar faces to the mountaineers. +“Hosh-posh and porter” +did not now appear such Utopian +articles as they had first imagined; +but no one can understand the relish, +but those who have fared for years +on simple meat and water, with which +they accepted the invitation of the +Capen (as they called the Scotchman,) +to “take a horn of liquor.” Killbuck +and La Bonté sat in the same position +as when we first surprised them asleep +under the shadow of Independence +Rock, regarding the profuse display of +comestibles with scarce-believing eyes, +and childishly helpless by the novelty +of the scene. Each took the proffered +half-pint cup, filled to the brim with +excellent brandy—(no tee-totallers +they!)—looked once at the amber-coloured +surface, and with the usual +mountain pledge of “here’s luck!” +tossed off the grateful liquor at a +breath. This prepared them in some +measure for what was yet in store for +them. The Scotchman bestirred the +cook in his work, and soon sundry +steaming pots were lifted from the +fire, and the skillets emptied of their +bread—the contents of the former +poured in large flat pans, while pannikins +were filled with smoking coffee. +The two trappers needed no second +invitation, but, seizing each a panful +of steaming stew, drew the butcher +knives from their belts, and fell to +lustily—the hospitable Scotchman +plying them with more and more, and +administering corrective noggins of +brandy the while; until at last they +were fain to cry enough, wiped their +knives on the grass, and placed them +in their sheaths—a sign that human +nature could no more. How can +pen describe the luxury of the smoke +that followed, to lips which had not +kissed pipe for many months, and +how the fragrant honey-dew from Old +Virginia was relishingly puffed!</p> + +<p class='c008'>But the Scotchman’s bounty did not +stop here. He soon elicited from the +lips of the hunters the narrative of +their losses and privations, and +learned that they now, without ammunition +and scarcely clothed, were +on their way to Platte Fort, to hire +themselves to the Indian traders in +order to earn another outfit, wherewith +once more to betake themselves to their +perilous employment of trapping. +What was their astonishment to see +their entertainer presently lay out upon +the ground two piles of goods, each +consisting of a four-point Mackinaw, +two tin canisters of powder, with corresponding +lead and flints, a pair of +mocassins, a shirt, and sufficient buckskin +to make a pair of pantaloons; +and how much the more was the +wonder increased when two excellent +Indian horses were presently lassoed +from the cavallada, and with mountain +saddle, bridle, and lariats complete, +together with the two piles of goods +described, presented to them “on the +prairie” or “gift-free,” by the kindhearted +stranger, who would not even +listen to thanks for the most timely +and invaluable present.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Once more equipped, our two hunters, +filled with good brandy and fat +buffalo meat, again wended on their +way; their late entertainers continuing +their pleasure trip across the gap of +the South Pass, intending to visit the +Great Salt Lake, or Timponogos, of +the West. The former were bound +for the North Fork of the Platte, with +the intention of joining one of the +numerous trapping parties which rendezvous +at the American Fur Company’s +post on that branch of the river. +On a fork of Sweet Water, however, +not two days after the meeting with +the Scotchman’s waggons, they encountered +a band of a dozen mountaineers, +mounted on fine horses, and +well armed and equipped, travelling +along without the usual accompaniment +of a mulada of pack-animals, +two or three mules alone being packed +with meat and spare ammunition. +The band was proceeding at a smart +rate, the horses moving with the gait +peculiar to American animals, known +as “<em>pacing</em>” or “<em>racking</em>,” in Indian +file—each of the mountaineers with a +long heavy rifle resting across the +horn of his saddle. Amongst them +our two friends recognised Markhead, +who had been of the party dispersed +months before by the Blackfeet on +one of the head streams of the Yellow +Stone, which event had been the +origin of the dire sufferings of Killbuck +and La Bonté. Markhead, +after running the gauntlet of numerous +Indians, through the midst of +whose country he passed with his +usual temerity and utter disregard +to danger, suffering hunger, thirst, +and cold—those every-day experiences +of mountain life—riddled with +balls, but with three scalps hanging +from his belt, made his way +to a rendezvous on Bear River, whence +he struck out for the Platte in early +spring, in time to join the band he +now accompanied, who were on a +horse-stealing expedition to the Missions +of Upper California. Little +persuasion did either Killbuck or La +Bonté require to join the sturdy freebooters. +In five minutes they had +gone “files-about,” and at sundown +were camping on the well-timbered +bottom of “Little Sandy,” feasting +once more on delicate hump-rib and +tender loin.</p> + +<p class='c008'>For California, ho!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fourteen good rifles in the hands of +fourteen mountain men, stout and true, +on fourteen strong horses, of true Indian +blood and training—fourteen cool +heads, with fourteen pairs of keen +eyes in them, each head crafty as an +Indian’s, directing a right arm strong +as steel, and a heart as brave as +grizzly bear’s. Before them a thousand +miles of dreary desert or wilderness, +overrun by hostile savages, +thirsting for the white man’s blood; +famine and drought, the arrows of +wily hordes of Indians—and, these +dangers past, the invasion of the +civilised settlements of whites, the +least numerous of which contained ten +times their number of armed and +bitter enemies,—the sudden swoop +upon their countless herds of mules +and horses, the fierce attack and +bloody slaughter;—such were the consequences +of the expedition these bold +mountaineers were now engaged in. +Fourteen lives of any fourteen enemies +who would be rash enough to stay +them, were, any day you will, carried +in the rifle barrels of these stout fellows; +who, in all the proud consciousness +of their physical qualities, +neither thought, nor cared to think, +of future perils; and rode merrily +on their way, rejoicing in the dangers +they must necessarily meet. Never +a more daring band crossed the +mountains; a more than ordinary +want of caution characterised their +march, and dangers were recklessly +and needlessly invited, which even +the older and more cold-blooded +mountaineers seemed not to care to +avoid. They had, each and all, many +a debt to pay the marauding Indians. +Grudges for many privations, for +wounds and loss of comrades, rankled +in their breasts; and not one but had +suffered more or less in property and +person at the hands of the savages, +within a few short months. Threats of +vengeance on every Redskin they met +were loud and deep; and the wild war-songs +round their nightly camp-fires, +and grotesque scalp-dances, borrowed +from the Indians, proved to the initiated +that they were, one and all, +“half-froze for hair.” Soon after +Killbuck and La Bonté joined them, +they one day suddenly surprised a +band of twenty Sioux, scattered on +a small prairie and butchering some +buffalo they had just killed. Before +they could escape, the whites +were upon them with loud shouts, +and in three minutes the scalps of +eleven were dangling from their saddle-horns.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Struggling up mountains, slipping +down precipices, dashing over prairies +which resounded with their Indian +songs, charging the Indians wherever +they met them, and without regard to +their numbers; frightening with their +lusty war-whoops the miserable Diggers, +who were not unfrequently surprised +while gathering roots in the +mountain plains, and who, scrambling +up the rocks and concealing themselves, +like sage rabbits, in holes and corners, +peered, chattering with fear, as the wild +and noisy troop rode by. Scarce drawing +rein, they passed rapidly the heads +of Green and Grand Rivers, through +a country abounding in game and +in excellent pasture; encountering in +the upland valleys, through which +meandered the well-timbered creeks on +which they made their daily camps, +many a band of Yutahs, through whom +they dashed at random, caring not +whether they were friends or foes. +Passing many other heads of streams, +they struck at last the edge of the +desert, lying along the south-eastern +base of the Great Salt Lake, +and which extends in almost unbroken +sterility to the foot of the range of +the Sierra Nevada—a mountain chain, +capped with perpetual snow, that +bounds the northern extremity of a +singular tract of country, walled by +mountains and utterly desert, whose +salt lagoons and lakes, although +fed by many streams, find no outlet +to the ocean, but are absorbed in the +spongy soil or thirsty sand, which +characterise the different portions of +this deserted tract. In the “Grand +Basin,” it is reported, neither human +nor animal life can be supported. No +oases cheer the wanderer in the unbroken +solitude of the vast wilderness. +More than once the lone trapper has +penetrated, with hardy enterprise, +into the salt plains of the basin; +but no signs of beaver or fur-bearing +animal rewarded the attempt. The +ground is scantily covered with coarse +unwholesome grass that mules and +horses refuse to eat; and the water +of the springs, impregnated with the +impurities of the soil through which it +percolates, affords but nauseating +draughts to the thirsty traveller.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In passing from the more fertile +uplands to the lower plains, as they +descended the streams, the timber +on their banks became scarcer, +and the groves more scattered. The +rich buffalo or <em>grama</em> grass was +exchanged for a coarser species, +on which the hard-worked animals +soon grew poor and weak. The +thickets of plum and cherry, of box-alder +and quaking-ash, which had +hitherto fringed the creeks, and where +the deer and bear loved to resort—the +former to browse on the leaves +and tender shoots, the latter to devour +the fruit—now entirely disappeared, +and the only shrub seen was the +eternal sage bush, which flourishes +every where in the western regions in +uncongenial soils where other vegetation +refuses to grow. The visible +change in the scenery had also a +sensible effect on the spirits of the +mountaineers. They travelled on in +silence through the deserted plains; +the hi-hi-hiya of their Indian chants +was no longer heard enlivening the +line of march. More than once a +Digger of the Pi-yutah tribe took himself +and hair, in safety, from their +path, and almost unnoticed; but as +they advanced they became more +cautious in their movements, and +testified, by the vigilant watch they +kept, that they anticipated hostile +attacks even in these arid wastes. +They had passed without molestation +through the country infested by the +bolder Indians. The mountain Yutes, +not relishing the appearance of the +hunters, had left them unmolested; +but they were now entering a country +inhabited by the most degraded and +abject of the western tribes; who, nevertheless, +ever suffering from the extremities +of hunger, have their brutish wits +sharpened by the necessity of procuring +food, and rarely fail to levy a contribution +of rations, of horse or mule +flesh, on the passenger in their inhospitable +country. The brutish +cunning and animal instinct of +these wretches is such, that although +arrant cowards, their attacks are +more feared than those of bolder +Indians. These people—called the +Yamparicas or Root-Diggers—are, +nevertheless, the degenerate descendants +of those tribes which once +overran that portion of the continent +of North America now comprehended +within the boundaries of +Mexico, and who have left such +startling evidences in their track of a +comparatively superior state of civilisation. +They now form an outcast +tribe of the great nation of the +Apache, which extends under various +names from the Great Salt Lake along +the table-lands on each side the +Sierra Madre to the tropic of Cancer, +where they merge into what are +called the Mexican Indians. The +whole of this nation is characterised +by most abject cowardice; and they +even refuse to meet the helpless +Mexicans in open fight—unlike the +Yutah or Camanche, who carry bold +and open warfare into the territories +of their civilised enemy, and never +shrink from hand to hand encounter. +The Apaches and the degenerate +Diggers pursue a cowardly warfare, +hiding in ambush, and shooting the +passer-by with arrows; or, dashing +upon him at night when steeped in +sleep, they bury their arrow to the +feather in his heaving breast. As the +Mexicans say, “<i><span lang="es">Sin ventaja, no salen</span></i>;” +they never attack without odds. +But they are not the less dangerous +enemies on this account; and by the +small bands of trappers who visit their +country, they are the more dreaded +by reason of this coward and wolfish +system of warfare.</p> + +<p class='c008'>To provide against surprise, therefore, +as the hunters rode along, flankers +were extended <i><span lang="es">en guerilla</span></i> on each +side, mounting the high points to +reconnoitre the country, and keeping +a sharp look-out for the Indian sign. +At night the animals were securely +hobbled, and a horse-guard posted +round them—a service of great danger, +as the stealthy cat-like Diggers +are often known to steal up silently, +under cover of the darkness, towards +the sentinel, shoot him with their +arrows, and, approaching the animals, +cut the hobbles and drive them away +unseen.</p> + +<p class='c008'>One night they encamped on a +creek where was but little of the +coarsest pasture, and that little scattered +here and there; so that they +were compelled to allow their animals +to roam farther than usual from camp +in search of food. Four of the hunters, +however, accompanied them to +guard against surprise; whilst but half +of those in camp laid down to sleep, +the others, with rifles in their hands, +remaining prepared for any emergencies. +This day they had killed one +of their two pack mules for food, game +not having been met with for several +days; but the animal was so poor, +that it scarcely afforded more than +one tolerable meal to the whole party.</p> + +<p class='c008'>A short time before the dawn of +day an alarm was given; the animals +were heard to snort violently; a loud +shout was heard, followed by the +sharp crack of a rifle, and the tramp +of galloping horses plainly showed +that a stampede had been effected. +The whites instantly sprang to their +arms, and rushed in the direction +of the sounds. The body of the +cavallada, however, had luckily turned, +and, being headed by the mountaineers, +were surrounded and secured, +with the loss of only three, which had +probably been mounted by the Indians.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Day breaking soon after, one of +their band was discovered to be +missing; and it was then found that +a man who had been standing horse-guard +at the time of the attack, +had not come into camp with his +companions. At that moment a thin +spiral column of smoke was seen to +rise from the banks of the creek, +telling but too surely the fate of the +missing mountaineer. It was the signal +of the Indians to their people that a +“<em>coup</em>” had been struck, and that an +enemy’s scalp remained in their triumphant +hands.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“H——!” exclaimed the trappers in +a breath; and soon imprecations and +threats of revenge, loud and deep, +were showered upon the heads of the +treacherous Indians. Some of the +party rushed to the spot where the +guard had stood, and there lay the +body of their comrade, pierced with +lance and arrow, the scalp gone, +and the body otherwise mutilated +in a barbarous manner. Five were +quickly in the saddle, mounted upon +the strongest horses, and flying +along the track of the Indians, who +had made off towards the mountains +with their prize and booty. +We will not follow them in their work +of bloody vengeance, save by saying +that they followed the savages +to their village, into which they +charged headlong, recovered their +stolen horses, and returned to camp +at sundown with thirteen scalps dangling +from their rifles, in payment +for the loss of their unfortunate companion.<a id='r4'></a><a href='#f4' class='c009'><sup>[4]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c008'>In their further advance, hunger +and thirst were their daily companions; +they were compelled to kill several +of their animals for food, but were +fortunate enough to replace them by a +stroke of good luck in meeting a party +of Indians returning from an excursion +against one of the Californian settlements +with a tolerably large band of +horses. Our hunters met this band +one fine morning, and dashed into the +midst at once; half a dozen Indians +bit the dust, and twenty horses were +turned over from red to white masters +in as many seconds, which remounted +those whose animals had +been eaten, and enabled the others to +exchange their worn-out steeds for +fresh ones. This fortunate event was +considered a <em>coup</em>, and the event was +celebrated by the slaughter of a fat +young horse, which furnished an excellent +supper that night—a memorable +event in these starveling regions.</p> + +<p class='c008'>They were now devouring their +horses and mules at the rate of one +every alternate day; for, so poor were +the animals, that one scarcely furnished +an ample meal for the thirteen +hungry hunters. They were once +more reduced to the animals they +rode on; and after a fast of twenty-four +hours’ duration, were debating on +the propriety of drawing lots as to +whose Rosinante should fill the kettle, +when some Indians suddenly appeared +making signs of peace upon the bluff, +and indicating a disposition to enter +the camp for the purpose of trading. +Being invited to approach, they offered +to trade a few dressed elk-skins; but +being asked for meat, they said that +their village was a long way off, and +they had nothing with them but a +small portion of some game they had +lately killed. When requested to +produce this, they hesitated, but the +trappers looking hungry and angry +at the same moment, an old Indian +drew from under his blanket several +flaps of portable dried meat which +he declared was bear’s. It was but +a small ration amongst so many; but, +being divided, was quickly laid upon +the fire to broil. The meat was stringy, +and of whitish colour, altogether unlike +any flesh the trappers had before +eaten. Killbuck was the first to discover +this. He had been quietly +masticating the last mouthful of his +portion, the stringiness of which required +more than usual dental exertion, +when the novelty of the flavour +struck him as something singular. +Suddenly his jaws ceased their work, +he thought a moment, took the morsel +from his mouth, looked at it intently, +and dashed it into the fire.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Man-meat, by G—!” he cried +out; and at the words every jaw +stopped work: the trappers looked at +the meat and each other.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I’m dog-gone if it ain’t!” cried +old Walker, looking at his piece, “and +white meat at that, wagh!” (and report +said it was not the first time he +had tasted such viands;) and the conviction +seizing each mind, every +mouthful was quickly spat into the +fire, and the ire of the deceived whites +was instantly turned upon the luckless +providers of the feast. They saw the +storm that was brewing, and without +more ado turned tail from the camp, +and scuttled up the bluffs, where, turning +round, they fired a volley of arrows +at the tricked mountaineers, and instantly +disappeared.</p> + +<p class='c008'>However, the desert and its nomade +pilferers were at length passed; the +sandy plains became grass-covered +prairies; the monstrous cottonwood +on the creeks was replaced by oak +and ash; the surface of the country +grew more undulating, and less +broken up into cañons and ravines; +elk and deer leaped in the bottoms, +and bands of antelope dotted the +plains, with occasional troops of wild +horses, too wary to allow the approach +of man. On the banks of a +picturesque stream called the San +Joaquim, the party halted a few days +to recruit themselves and animals, +feasting the while on the fattest of +venison and other game. They then +struck to the south-east for two days, +until they reached a branch of the +“Las Animas,” a clear stream running +through a pretty valley, well timbered +and abounding in game. Here, as +they wound along the river-banks, a +horseman suddenly appeared upon +the bluff above them, galloping at a +furious rate along the edge. His dress +approached in some degree to civilised +attire. A broad-brimmed sombrero +surmounted his swarthy face; a coloured +blanket, through a slit in which his +head was thrust, floated in the air from +his shoulders; leathern leggings encased +his lower limbs; and huge spurs +jingled on his heels. He rode in a +high-peaked Mexican saddle, his feet +thrust in ponderous stirrups, and in +his hand swung a coil of ready lasso, +his only offensive arm. One of the +trappers knew a little Spanish, and +instantly hailed him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“<i><span lang="es">Compadre</span></i>,” he shouted, “<i><span lang="es">por onde +va?</span></i>” The Californian reined in suddenly, +throwing the horse he rode on +its very haunches, and darting down +the bluff, galloped unhesitatingly into +the midst of the hunters.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“<i><span lang="es">Americanos!</span></i>” he exclaimed glancing +at them; and continued, smiling—“<i><span lang="es">Y +caballos quieren, por eso vienen tan +lejitos. Jesus, que mala gente!</span></i>” “It’s +horses you want, and for this you +come all this way. Ah, what rogues +you are!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>He was an Indian, employed at the +Mission of San Fernando, distant three +days’ journey from their present position, +and was now searching for a +band of horses and mules which +had strayed. San Fernando, it appeared, +had once before been visited +by a party of mountain free-traders, +and the Indian therefore divined the +object of the present one. He was, he +told them, “<i><span lang="es">un Indio, pero mansito</span></i>:” +an Indian, but a tame one;<a id='r5'></a><a href='#f5' class='c009'><sup>[5]</sup></a> “<i><span lang="es">de mas, +Christiano</span></i>;” a Christian moreover, +(exhibiting a small cross which hung +round his neck.) There were many +people about the mission, he said, +who knew how to fight, and had +plenty of arms; and there were enough +to “eat up” the “<i><span lang="es">Americanos, sin +frijoles</span></i>,” without beans, as he facetiously +observed. For his part, however, +he was very friendly to the +<i><span lang="es">Americanos</span></i>; he had once met a man +of that nation who was a good sort of +fellow, and had made him a present of +tobacco, of which he was particularly +fond. Finding this hint did not take, +he said that the horses and mules belonging +to the mission were innumerable—“like +that,” he added, sweeping +his hand to all points of the compass +over the plain, to intimate that they +would cover that extent; and he could +point out a large herd grazing nearer +at hand than the mission, and guarded +but by three <em>vaqueros</em>. Regaled with +venison, and with a smoke of his +coveted tobacco, he rode off, and made +his way to the mission without delay; +conveying the startling intelligence +that a thousand Americans were upon +them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The next morning the thirteen +doughty mountaineers quietly resumed +their journey, moving leisurely along +towards the object of their expedition.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It will not be out of place here to +digress a little, in order to describe the +singular features of the establishments +formed in those remote regions by +the Catholic church, as nuclei round +which to concentrate the wandering +tribes that inhabit the country, with +a view to give them the benefit of +civilised example, and to wean them +from their restless nomadic habits.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The establishment of missions in +Upper California is coeval with the +first settlement of Southern Mexico. +No sooner had Spanish rule taken a +firm foothold in the Aztec empire, than +the avowed primary object of the +military expedition began to be carried +into effect. “To save the souls” of +the savage and barbarous subjects of +their most Catholic majesties was ever +inculcated upon the governors of the +conquered country as the grand object +to be sought after, as soon as tranquillity +was partially restored by the submission +of the Mexicans; and the +cross, the sacred emblem of the Catholic +faith, was to be upraised in the +remotest corners of the country, and +the natives instructed and compelled +to worship it, in lieu of the grotesque +images of their own idolatrous religion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>To carry into effect these orthodox +instructions, troops of pious priests, +of friars and monks of every order, and +even of saintly nuns, followed in the +wake of the victorious armies of Cortez; +and girding up their loins with zealous +fervour and enthusiasm, and with +an enterprise and hardihood worthy of +buccaneers, they pushed their adventurous +way far into the bowels of the +land, preaching devoutly and with +commendable perseverance to savages +who did not understand a syllable of +what they so eloquently discoursed; +and returning, after the lapse of many +months passed in this first attempt, +with glowing accounts of the “<i><span lang="es">muy +buen indole</span></i>,” the very ductile disposition +of the savages, and of the thousands +they had converted to “<i><span lang="es">la santa +fé catolica</span></i>.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Ferdinand and Isabel, of glorious +memory, at once beat up for volunteers. +Crowds of Franciscan monks, +greasy Capuchinos, and nuns of orthodox +odour, joined the band; and +saints even of the feminine gender, +long since canonised and up aloft +amongst the goodly muster of saints +and martyrs, put foot once more on +<em>terra firma</em>, and, rosary in hand, +crossed the seas to participate in the +good work. As proof of this latter +fact, one Venabides, a Franciscan, +whose veracity is beyond impeachment, +declared that, while preaching +in the regions now known as New +Mexico, one million Indians from the +“rumbo” known as Cibolo, a mighty +nation, approached his temporary pulpit +on the Rio Grande, and requested +in a body the favour of being baptised. +Struck with the singularity of this request +from Indians with whom he had +as yet held no communication, and +with conscientious scruple as to whether +he would be justified in performing +such ceremony without their having +received previous instruction, he +hesitated a few moments before making +an answer. At this juncture, the +Indians espied a medallion which hung +around his neck, bearing the effigy of +a certain saint of extraordinary virtue. +At sight of this they fell on their knees +before it; and it was some time before +they found words (in what language +does not appear) to explain to the +holy father that the original of that +effigy, which hung pendant from his +neck, had been long amongst them instructing +them in the elements of the +Christian religion, and had only lately +disappeared; informing them that certain +reverend men would shortly appear +in the land, who would finish the +good work she had devoutly commenced, +and clench the business by +baptising the one million miserable +sinners who now knelt before El Padre +Venabides.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Valgame Dios!” reverently exclaimed +that worthy man, “qui milagro +es este;” [what a miracle is this I +hear;] and casting up his eyes, and +speaking slowly, as if he weighed +every word, and taxing his memory +of the historical calendar of saints, +continued,—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“<i><span lang="es">Se murió—aquella—santissima—muger—en +el ano 175—es decir—ya +hacen—mil—quatro—cientos—anos.</span></i>” +[That most holy woman died in the +year 175, that is to say, one thousand +four hundred years ago.]</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, what a strange thing is this!” +the padre continues devoutly. “After +so many ages spent in heaven in company +of the angels, of most holy men, +and of virgins the most pure; and, +perhaps, also in the company of my +worthy and esteemed friend and patron +Don Vincente Carvajal y Calvo, who +died a few years ago in San Lucar of +Xeres, (bequeathing me certain arrobas +of dry wine, of a class I greatly +esteem,—for which act he deserved +to be canonised, and, I have +no doubt, is,) the said Don Vincente +Carvajal y Calvo being, moreover, +a man of the purest and holiest +thoughts, (Dios mio! what a +puchero that man always had on his +table!) this holy woman comes here—to +these wild and remote regions; +this holy woman, (who died fifteen +hundred years ago,) abandoning the +company of angels, of holy men, and +sanctified women and virgins, and also +of Don Vincente Carvajal y Calvo, +(that worthy man!)—comes here, I say, +where there are neither pucheros, nor +garbanzos, nor dry wine, nor sweet +wine, neither of Xeres, nor of Val de +Peñas, nor of Peralta; where” (sobbed +the padre, and bellowed the last word) +“there is—nothing either to eat or to +drink. Valgame Purissima Maria! +And what is the name of this holy +woman? the world will ask,” continues +Venabides. “Santa Clara of +Carmona is her name, one well known +in my native country, who leaves +heaven and all its joys, wends her +way to the distant wilds of New Spain, +and spends years in inducting the savage +people to the holy faith. Truly +a pious work, and pleasing to God!”<a id='r6'></a><a href='#f6' class='c009'><sup>[6]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c008'>Thus spoke Venabides the Franciscan, +and no doubt he believed what +he said; and many others in Old +Spain were fools enough to believe it +too, for the shaven heads flocked over +in greater numbers, and the cry was +ever “still they come.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Along the whole extent of the table-lands, +not an Indian tribe but was +speedily visited by the preaching +friars and monks; and, in less than a +century after the conquest of Mexico +by the Spaniards, these hardy and +enthusiastic <span lang="es">frayles</span> had pushed their +way into the inhospitable regions of +New Mexico, nearly two thousand +miles distant from the valley of Anahuac. +How they succeeded in surmounting +the natural obstacles presented +by the wild and barren deserts +they traversed; how they escaped the +infinite peril they encountered at every +step, at the hands of the savage inhabitants +of the country, with whose language +they were totally unacquainted, +is sufficient puzzle to those who, in +the present day, have attempted a +journey in the same regions.</p> + +<p class='c008'>However, it is impossible not to +admire the hardihood of these holy +pioneers of civilisation, who, totally +unfitted by their former mode of life +for undergoing such hardships as they +must have anticipated, threw themselves +into the wilderness with fearless +and stubborn zeal.</p> + +<p class='c008'>For the most part, however, they +found the Indians exceedingly hospitable +and well disposed; and it was +not until some time after—when, receiving +from the missionary monks +glowing, and not always very truthful +accounts of the riches of the country +in which they had located themselves, +the governors of Mexico despatched +armed expeditions under adventurous +desperadoes to take and retain possession +of the said country, with orders +to compel the submission of the native +tribes, and enforce their obedience to +the authority of the whites—that the +simple and confiding Indians began to +see the folly they had committed in +permitting the residence amongst +them of these superior beings, whom +they had first looked upon as more +than mortal, but who, when strong +enough to do so, were not long in +throwing off the mask, and proving to +the simple savages that they were +much “more human than divine.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Thus, in the province of New Mexico, +Fray Augustin Ruiz, with his co-preachers +Marcos and Venabides, +were kindly received by the native +inhabitants, and we have seen how +one million (?) Indians came from the +“rumbo” of the Cibolo, ready and +willing to receive the baptismal sacrament. +This Cibolo, or Sivulo, as it is +written in some old MSS., is, by the +way, mysteriously alluded to by the +monkish historians who have written +on this region, as being a kingdom +inhabited by a very superior class of +Indians to any met with between +Anahuac and the Vale of Taos—in +the enjoyment of a high state of civilisation, +inhabiting a well-built city, +the houses of which were three stories +high, and having attained considerable +perfection in the domestic arts. +This, notwithstanding the authority of +Don Francisco Vasquez Coronado, +who visited Cibolo, and of Solis and +Venegas, who have guaranteed the assertion, +must be received <i><span lang="la">cum grano +salis</span></i>; but, at all events, the civilisation +of the mysterious Cibolo may be compared +to that of the Aztec empire, +under Montezuma, at the time of the +Spanish Conquest, both being egregiously +exaggerated by the historians +of the day. Cibolo was situated on a +river called Tegue. At this day, +neither name is known to the inhabitants +of New Mexico. If pate-shaven +Venabides had held his tongue, New +Mexico might now be in the peaceful +possession of the Catholic Missions, +and the property of the Church of +Mexico pretty considerably enhanced +by the valuable <i><span lang="es">placeres</span></i>, or gold +washings, which abound in that province. +Full, however, of the wonderful +miracle of Santa Clara of Carmona, +which had been brought to light +through the agency of the medallion +at the end of his rosario, Fray Venabides +must needs return to Spain, and +humbug poor old Fernando, and even +the more sensible Isabel, with wonderful +accounts of the riches of the +country he had been instrumental in +exploring, and of the excellent disposition +of the natives to receive the word +of God. Don Juan Oñate was, therefore, +quickly despatched to take possession; +and in his train followed +twelve Castilian families of <i><span lang="es">sangre +azul</span></i>, to colonise the newly-acquired +territory. The names of these still +remain, disgraced by the degenerate +wretches who now bear them, but in +whom scarce a drop of blood remains +which ever filtered from the veins of +the paladins of Old Castile.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then commenced the troublous +times. The missions were upheld by +dint of steel alone; and, on every occasion, +the Indians rose, and often massacred +their white persecutors. The +colonists were more than once driven +bodily from New Mexico, and were +only reinstated by the aid of large +bodies of armed men.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In California, however, they managed +these things better. The wily +monks took care to keep all interlopers +from the country, established themselves +in snug quarters, instructed the +Indians in agriculture, and soon gained +such an ascendency over them, that +no difficulty was experienced in keeping +them under proper and wholesome +restraint. Strong and commodious +missions were built and fortified, +well stored with arms and ammunition, +and containing sufficient defenders +to defy attack. Luxuriant gardens +and thriving vineyards soon surrounded +these isolated stations: the plains +waved with golden corn; whilst domestic +cattle, thriving on the rich pasture, +and roaming far and near, multiplied +and increased a hundred-fold.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nothing can be more beautiful than +the appearance of one of these missions, +to the traveller who has lately passed +the arid and barren wilderness of the +North-west. The <em>adobe</em> walls of the +convent-looking building, surmounted +by cross and belfry, are generally +hidden in a mass of luxuriant vegetation. +Fig-trees, bananas, cherry, +and apple, leaf-spreading platanos, +and groves of olives, form umbrageous +vistas, under which the sleek monks +delight to wander; gardens, cultivated +by their own hands, testify to +the horticultural skill of the worthy +padres; whilst vineyards yield their +grateful produce to gladden the hearts +of the holy exiles in these western +solitudes. Vast herds of cattle roam +half-wild on the plains, and bands of +mules and horses, whose fame has +even reached the distant table-lands +of the Rocky Mountains, and excited +the covetousness of the hunters—and +thousands of which, from the day +they are foaled to that of their death, +never feel a saddle on their backs—cover +the country. Indians (Mansitos) +idle round the skirts of these vast +herds, (whose very numbers keep +them together,) living, at their own +choice, upon the flesh of mule, or ox, +or horse.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span> + <h2 class='c002'>THE CAXTONS.—PART VI.</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c019'>CHAPTER XVIII.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>“I don’t know that,” said my +father.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What is it my father does not +know? My father does not know +that happiness is our being’s end +and aim.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>And pertinent to what does my +father reply, by words so sceptical, +to an assertion so little disputed?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Reader, Mr Trevanion has been +half-an-hour seated in our little drawing-room. +He has received two cups +of tea from my mother’s fair hand; he +has made himself at home. With Mr +Trevanion has come another old friend +of my father’s, whom he has not seen +since he left college—Sir Sedley Beaudesert.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Now, you must understand that it +is a warm night, a little after nine +o’clock—a night between departing +summer and approaching autumn—the +windows are open—we have a +balcony, which my mother has taken +care to fill with flowers—the air, +though we are in London, is sweet +and fresh—the street quiet, except +that an occasional carriage or hackney +cabriolet rolls rapidly by—a few +stealthy passengers pass to and fro +noiselessly on their way homeward. +We are on classic ground—near that +old and venerable Museum, the dark +monastic pile, with its learned treasures, +which the taste of the age had +spared then—and the quiet of the +temple seems to hallow the precincts; +Captain Roland is seated by the fireplace, +and though there is no fire, +he is shading his face with a handscreen; +my father and Mr Trevanion +have drawn their chairs close to each +other in the middle of the room; Sir +Sedley Beaudesert leans against the +wall near the window, and behind +my mother, who looks prettier and +more pleased than usual, since her +Austin has his old friends about him; +and I, leaning my elbow on the table, +and my chin upon my hand, am gazing +with great admiration on Sir Sedley +Beaudesert.</p> + +<p class='c008'>O rare specimen of a race fast +decaying!—specimen of the true fine +gentleman, ere the word dandy was +known, and before exquisite became +a noun substantive—let me here +pause to describe thee! Sir Sedley +Beaudesert was the contemporary of +Trevanion and my father; but, without +affecting to be young, he still +seemed so. Dress, tone, look, manner—all +were young—yet all had a +certain dignity which does not belong +to youth. At the age of five-and-twenty, +he had won what would have +been fame to a French marquis of +the old regime, viz.—he was “the +most charming man of his day”—the +most popular with our sex—the most +favoured, my dear lady reader, with +yours. It is a mistake, I believe, to +suppose that it does not require talent +to become the fashion; at all events, +Sir Sedley was the fashion, and he +had talent. He had travelled much, he +had read much—especially in memoirs, +history, and belles-lettres—he made +verses with grace and a certain originality +of easy wit and courtly sentiment—he +conversed delightfully—he +was polished and urbane in manner—he +was brave and honourable in conduct; +in words he could flatter—in +deeds he was sincere.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir Sedley Beaudesert had never +married. Whatever his years, he was +still young enough in looks to be +married for love. He was high-born, +he was rich; he was, as I have said, +popular; yet on his fair features there +was an expression of melancholy; and +on that forehead—pure from the lines +of ambition, and free from the weight +of study—there was the shadow of +unmistakeable regret.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I don’t know that,” said my +father; “I have never yet found in +life one man who made happiness his +end and aim. One wants to gain a +fortune, another to spend it—one to +get a place, another to build a name; +but they all know very well that it is +not happiness they search for. No +Utilitarian was ever actuated by self-interest, +poor man, when he sate down +to scribble his unpopular crochets to +prove self-interest universal. And as +to that notable distinction—between +self-interest vulgar and self-interest +enlightened—the more the self-interest +is enlightened, the less we are influenced +by it. If you tell the young +man who has just written a fine book +or made a fine speech, that he will not +be any happier if he attains to the +fame of Milton, or the power of Pitt, +and that, for the sake of his own happiness, +he had much better cultivate a +farm, live in the country, and postpone +to the last the days of dyspepsia +and gout, he will answer you fairly,—‘I +am quite as sensible of that as you +are. But I am not thinking whether +or not I shall be happy. I have made +up my mind to be, if I can, a great +author or a prime minister.’ So it is +with all the active sons of the world. +To push on is the law of nature. And +you can no more say to men and to +nations than to children,—‘Sit still, +and don’t wear out your shoes!’”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Then,” said Trevanion, “if I tell +you I am not happy, your only answer +is, that I obey an inevitable law.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No! I don’t say that it is an inevitable +law that man should not be +happy; but it is an inevitable law +that a man, in spite of himself, should +live for something higher than his +own happiness. He cannot live in +himself or for himself, however egotistical +he may try to be. Every desire +he has links him with others. Man +is not a machine—he is a part of +one.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“True, brother, he is a soldier, +not an army,” said Captain Roland.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Life is a drama, not a monologue,” +pursued my father. “Drama +is derived from a Greek verb, signifying +<em>to do</em>. Every actor in the drama +has something to do, which helps on +the progress of the whole: that is the +object for which the Author created +him. Do your part, and let the Great +Play get on.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ah!” said Trevanion briskly, +“but to do the part is the difficulty! +Every actor helps to the catastrophe, +and yet must do his part without +knowing how all is to end. Shall he +help the curtain to fall on a tragedy +or a comedy? Come, I will tell you +the one secret of my public life—that +which explains all its failure (for, in +spite of my position, I have failed) and +its regrets—<em>I want conviction!</em>”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Exactly,” said my father; “because +to every question there are two +sides, and you look at them both.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You have said it,” answered +Trevanion, smiling also. “For public +life a man should be one-sided; he +must act with a party; and a party +insists that the shield is silver, when, +if it will take the trouble to turn the +corner, it will see that the reverse of +the shield is gold. Wo to the man who +makes that discovery alone, while his +party are still swearing the shield is +silver, and that not once in his life, +but every night!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You have said quite enough to +convince me that you ought not to +belong to a party, but not enough to +convince me why you should not be +happy,” said my father.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do you remember,” said Sir +Sedley Beaudesert, “an anecdote of +the first Duke of Portland? He had a +gallery in the great stable of his villa +in Holland, where a concert was given +once a-week, to <em>cheer and amuse</em> his +horses! I have no doubt the horses +thrived all the better for it. What +Trevanion wants is a concert once +a-week. With him it is always saddle +and spur. Yet, after all, who would +not envy him? If life be a drama, his +name stands high in the playbill, and +is printed in capitals on the walls.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Envy <span class='fss'>ME</span>!” cried Trevanion—“<span class='fss'>ME!</span>—no, +you are the enviable man—you +who have only one grief in the +world, and that so absurd a one, +that I will make you blush by disclosing +it. Hear, O sage Austin!—O +sturdy Roland!—Olivares was +haunted by a spectre, and Sedley +Beaudesert by the dread of old age!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well,” said my mother seriously, +“I do think it requires a great sense +of religion, or, at all events, children +of one’s own, in whom one is +young again, to reconcile one’s-self to +becoming old.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My dear ma’am,” said Sir Sedley, +who had slightly coloured at Trevanion’s +charge, but had now recovered +his easy self-possession, “you +have spoken so admirably that you +give me courage to confess my weakness. +I do dread to be old. All the +joys of my life have been the joys of +youth. I have had so exquisite a +pleasure in the mere sense of living, +that old age, as it comes near, terrifies +me by its dull eyes and gray hairs. +I have lived the life of the butterfly. +Summer is over, and I see my flowers +withering; and my wings are chilled +by the first airs of winter. Yes, I +envy Trevanion; for, in public life, +no man is ever young; and while he +can work he is never old.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My dear Beaudesert,” said my +father, “when St Amable, patron +saint of Riom, in Auvergne, went to +Rome, the sun waited upon him as a +servant, carried his cloak and gloves +for him in the heat, and kept off the +rain, if the weather changed, like an +umbrella. You want to put the sun to +the same use; you are quite right; +but then, you see, you must first be a +saint before you can be sure of the +sun as a servant.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir Sedley smiled charmingly; but +the smile changed to a sigh as he +added, “I don’t think I should much +mind being a saint if the sun would +be my sentinel instead of my courier. +I want nothing of him but to stand +still. You see he moved even for St +Amable. My dear madam, you and +I understand each other; and it is a +very hard thing to grow old, do what +one will to keep young.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What say you, Roland, of these +two malcontents?” asked my father. +The Captain turned uneasily in his +chair, for the rheumatism was gnawing +his shoulder, and sharp pains +were shooting through his mutilated +limb.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I say,” answered Roland, “that +these men are wearied with marching +from Brentford to Windsor—that +they have never known the bivouac +and the battle.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Both the grumblers turned their +eyes to the veteran: the eyes rested +first on the furrowed, care-worn lines +on his eagle face—then they fell on +the stiff, outstretched cork limb—and +then they turned away.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Meanwhile my mother had softly +risen, and, under pretence of looking +for her work on the table near him, +bent over the old soldier, and pressed +his hand.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Gentlemen,” said my father, “I +don’t think my brother ever heard of +Nichocorus, the Greek comic writer; +yet he has illustrated him very ably. +Saith Nichocorus, ‘the best cure for +drunkenness is a sudden calamity.’ +For chronic drunkenness, a continued +course of real misfortune must be very +salutary!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>No answer came from the two +complainants; and my father took up +a great book.</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER XIX.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>“My friends,” said my father, looking +up from his book, and addressing +himself to his two visitors, “I know +of one thing, milder than calamity, +that would do you both a great deal +of good.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What is that?” asked Sir Sedley.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A saffron bag, worn at the pit of +the stomach!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Austin, my dear!” said my mother +reprovingly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>My father did not heed the interruption, +but continued gravely,—“Nothing +is better for the spirits! +Roland is in no want of saffron, +because he is a warrior; and the +desire of fighting, and the hope of +victory, infuse such a heat into the +spirits as is profitable for long life, +and keeps up the system.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Tut!” said Trevanion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But gentlemen in your predicament +must have recourse to artificial +means. Nitre in broth, for instance—about +three grains to ten—(cattle fed +upon nitre grow fat); or earthy odours—such +as exist in cucumbers and +cabbage. A certain great lord had +a clod of fresh earth, laid in a napkin, +put under his nose every morning after +sleep. Light anointing of the head +with oil, mixed with roses and salt, is +not bad; but, upon the whole, I prescribe +the saffron bag at the”—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sisty, my dear, will you look for +my scissors?” said my mother.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What nonsense are you talking! +Question, question!” cried Mr Trevanion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Nonsense!” exclaimed my father, +opening his eyes; “I am giving you +the advice of Lord Bacon.—You want +conviction—conviction comes from +passion—passion from the spirits—spirits +from a saffron bag. You, +Beaudesert, on the other hand, want +to keep youth. He keeps youth +longest who lives longest. Nothing +more conduces to longevity than a +saffron bag, provided always it is +worn at the”—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sisty, my thimble!” said my +mother.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You laugh at us justly,” said +Beaudesert, smiling; “and the same +remedy, I dare say, would cure us +both!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes,” said my father, “there is +no doubt of that. In the pit of the +stomach is that great central web of +nerves called the ganglions; thence +they affect the head and the heart. +Mr Squills proved that to us, Sisty.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes,” said I; “but I never heard +Mr Squills talk of a saffron bag.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, foolish boy! it is not the +saffron bag—it is the belief in the +saffron bag. Apply <span class='fss'>BELIEF</span> to the +centre of the nerves, and all will go +well,” said my father.</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER XX.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>“But it is a devil of a thing to have +too nice a conscience!” quoth the +member of Parliament.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And it is not an angel of a thing +to lose one’s front teeth!” sighed the +fine gentleman.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Therewith my father rose, and, +putting his hand into his waistcoat, +<i><span lang="it">more suo</span></i>, delivered his famous</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c021'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>SERMON UPON THE CONNEXION BETWEEN FAITH AND PURPOSE.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Famous it was in our domestic +circle. But as yet, it has not gone +beyond. And since the reader, I am +sure, does not turn to the Caxton memoirs +with the expectation of finding +sermons, so to that circle let its fame +be circumscribed. All I shall say +about it is, that it was a very fine +sermon, and that it proved indisputably, +to me at least, the salubrious +effects of a saffron bag applied to the +great centre of the nervous system. +But the wise Ali saith, that “a fool +doth not know what maketh him look +little, neither will he hearken to him +that adviseth him.” I cannot assert +that my father’s friends were fools, +but they certainly came under this +definition of Folly.</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER XXI.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>For therewith arose not conviction +but discussion; Trevanion was logical, +Beaudesert sentimental. My +father held firm to the saffron bag. +When James the First dedicated to +the Duke of Buckingham his Meditation +on the Lord’s Prayer, he +gave a very sensible reason for +selecting his grace for that honour,—“For,” +(saith the king) “it is made upon +a very short and plaine prayer, and, +therefore, the fitter for a courtier, for +courtiers are for the most part thought +neither to have lust nor leisure to say +long prayers; liking best <i><span lang="fr">courte messe +et long disner</span></i>.” I suppose it was for +a similar reason that my father persisted +in dedicating to the member of +parliament and the fine gentleman, +this “short and plaine” morality of +his—to wit, the saffron bag. He was +evidently persuaded, if he could once +get them to apply that, it was all that +was needful; that they had neither +lust nor leisure for longer instructions. +And this saffron bag,—it came down +with such a whack, at every round in +the argument! You would have +thought my father one of the old plebeian +combatants in the popular ordeal, +who, forbidden to use sword and lance, +fought with a sand-bag tied to a flail: +a very stunning weapon it was when +filled only with sand; but a bag +filled with saffron,—it was irresistible! +Though my father had two to one +against him, they could not stand +such a deuce of a weapon. And after +tuts and pishes innumerable from Mr +Trevanion, and sundry bland grimaces +from Sir Sedley Beaudesert, they fairly +gave in, though they would not own +they were beaten.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Enough,” said the member, “I see +that you don’t comprehend me; I must +continue to move by my own impulse.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>My father’s pet book was the Colloquies +of Erasmus; he was wont to +say that those Colloquies furnished +life with illustrations in every page. +Out of the Colloquies of Erasmus he +now answered the member:—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Rabirius, wanting his servant +Syrus to get up,” quoth my father, +“cried out to him to move. ‘I do +move,’ said Syrus. ‘I see you move,’ +replied Rabirius, ‘but you <em>move nothing</em>.’ +To return to the saffron +bag,—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Confound the saffron bag!” cried +Trevanion in a rage; and then, softening +his look as he drew on his gloves, +he turned to my mother, and said, +with more politeness than was natural +to, or at least customary with +him:—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“By the way, my dear Mrs Caxton, +I should tell you that Lady +Ellinor comes to town to-morrow, +on purpose to call on you. We +shall be here some little time, Austin; +and though London is so empty, there +are still some persons of note to whom +I should like to introduce you, and +yours—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Nay,” said my father, “your +world and my world are not the same. +Books for me, and men for you. +Neither Kitty nor I can change our +habits, even for friendship; she has a +great piece of work to finish, and so +have I. Mountains cannot stir, especially +when in labour; but Mahomet +can come to the mountain as often as +he likes.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mr Trevanion insisted, and Sir +Sedley Beaudesert mildly put in his +own claims; both boasted acquaintance +with literary men, whom my +father would, at all events, be pleased +to meet. My father doubted whether +he could meet any literary men more +eloquent than Cicero, or more amusing +than Aristophanes; and observed, +that if such did exist, he would rather +meet them in their books than in a +drawing-room. In fine, he was immovable; +and so also, with less argument, +was Captain Roland.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then Mr Trevanion turned to me.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Your son, at all events, should see +something of the world.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>My mother’s soft eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My dear friend, I thank you,” +said my father, touched; “and Pisistratus +and I will talk it over.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Our guests had departed. All four of +us gathered to the open window, and +enjoyed in silence the cool air and the +moonlight.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Austin,” said my mother at +last, “I fear it is for my sake that +you refuse going amongst your old +friends: you knew I should be frightened +by such fine people, and—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And we have been happy for more +than eighteen years without them, +Kitty! My poor friends are not +happy, and we are. To leave well +alone is a golden rule worth all in +Pythagoras. The ladies of Bubastis, +my dear, a place in Egypt where the +cat was worshipped, always kept +rigidly aloof from the gentlemen in +Athribis, who adored the shrewmice. +Cats are domestic animals,—your +shrewmice are sad gadabouts: you +can’t find a better model, my Kitty, +than the ladies of Bubastis!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“How Trevanion is altered!” said +Roland, musingly—“he who was so +lively and ardent!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“He ran too fast up-hill at first, +and has been out of breath ever since,” +said my father.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And Lady Ellinor;” said Roland, +hesitatingly, “shall you see her to-morrow?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes!” said my father, calmly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As Captain Roland spoke, something +in the tone of his question seemed +to flash a conviction on my mother’s +heart,—the woman there was quick; +she drew back, turning pale, even in +the moonlight, and fixed her eyes +on my father, while I felt her hand +which had clasped mine tremble convulsively.</p> + +<p class='c008'>I understood her. Yes, this Lady +Ellinor was the early rival whose +name till then she had not known. +She fixed her eyes on my father, and +at his tranquil tone and quiet look she +breathed more freely, and sliding her +hand from mine rested it fondly on his +shoulder. A few moments afterwards, +I and Captain Roland found ourselves +standing alone by the window.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You are young, nephew,” said +the Captain; “and you have the +name of a fallen family to raise. +Your father does well not to reject for +you that opening into the great world +which Trevanion offers. As for me, +my business in London seems over: +I cannot find what I came to seek. I +have sent for my daughter; when she +arrives I shall return to my old tower; +and the man and the ruin will crumble +away together.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Tush, uncle! I must work hard +and get money; and then we will repair +the old tower, and buy back the +old estate. My father shall sell the +red brick house; we will fit him up a +library in the keep; and we will all +live united, in peace, and in state, as +grand as our ancestors before us.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>While I thus spoke, my uncle’s eyes +were fixed upon a corner of the street, +where a figure, half in shade half in +moonlight, stood motionless. “Ah!” +said I following his eye, “I have +observed that man, two or three +times, pass up and down the street on +the other side of the way, and turn +his head towards our window. Our +guests were with us then, and my +father in full discourse, or I should +have—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Before I could finish the sentence, +my uncle, stifling an exclamation, +broke away, hurried out of the room, +stumped down the stairs, and was in +the street, while I was yet rooted to +the spot with surprise. I remained +at the window, and my eye rested on +the figure. I saw the Captain, with +his bare head and his gray hair, cross +the street; the figure started, turned +the corner, and fled.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then I followed my uncle, and +arrived in time to save him from +falling: he leant his head on my +breast, and I heard him murmur,—“It +is he—it is he! He has watched +us!—he repents!”</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER XXII.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>The next day Lady Ellinor called; +but to my great disappointment without +Fanny.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Whether or not some joy at the incident +of the previous night had served +to make my uncle more youthful than +usual, I know not, but he looked to +me ten years younger when Lady +Ellinor entered. How carefully the +buttoned up coat was brushed! how +new and glossy was the black stock! +The poor Captain was restored to his +pride, and mighty proud he looked! +With a glow on his cheek, and a fire +in his eye; his head thrown back, and +his whole air composed, severe, Mavortian +and majestic, as if awaiting the +charge of the French cuirassiers at +the head of his detachment.</p> + +<p class='c008'>My father, on the contrary, was as +usual (till dinner, when he always +dressed punctiliously, out of respect +to his Kitty) in his easy morning +gown and slippers; and nothing but a +certain compression in his lips which +had lasted all the morning, evinced +his anticipation of the visit, or the +emotion it caused him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Ellinor behaved beautifully. +She could not conceal a certain nervous +trepidation, when she first took the +hand my father extended; and, in +touching rebuke of the Captain’s +stately bow, she held out to him the +hand left disengaged, with a look which +brought Roland at once to her side. +It was a desertion of his colours to +which nothing, short of Ney’s shameful +conduct at Napoleon’s return from +Elba, affords a parallel in history. +Then, without waiting for introduction, +and before a word indeed was +said, Lady Ellinor came to my mother +so cordially, so caressingly—she threw +into her smile, voice, manner, such +winning sweetness, that I, intimately +learned in my poor mother’s simple +loving heart, wondered how she refrained +from throwing her arms round +Lady Ellinor’s neck, and kissing her +outright. It must have been a great +conquest over herself not to do it! +My turn came next; and talking to +me, and about me, soon set all parties +at their ease—at least apparently.</p> + +<p class='c008'>What was said I cannot remember: +I do not think one of us could. But +an hour slipped away, and there was +no gap in the conversation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>With curious interest, and a survey +I strove to make impartial, I compared +Lady Ellinor with my mother. And +I comprehended the fascination the +high-born lady must, in their earlier +youth, have exercised over both brothers, +so dissimilar to each other. +For <em>charm</em> was the characteristic of +Lady Ellinor—a charm indefinable. +It was not the mere grace of refined +breeding, though that went a great +way; it was a charm that seemed to +spring from natural sympathy. Whomsoever +she addressed, that person appeared +for the moment to engage all +her attention, to interest her whole +mind. She had a gift of conversation +very peculiar. She made what she +said like a continuation of what was +said to her. She seemed as if she +had entered into your thoughts, and +talked them aloud. Her mind was +evidently cultivated with great care, +but she was perfectly void of pedantry. +A hint, an allusion, sufficed to +show how much she knew, to one well +instructed, without mortifying or perplexing +the ignorant. Yes, there probably +was the only woman my father +had ever met who could be the companion +to his mind, walk through the +garden of knowledge by his side, and +trim the flowers while he cleared the +vistas. On the other hand, there was +an inborn nobility in Lady Ellinor’s +sentiments that must have struck the +most susceptible chord in Roland’s +nature, and the sentiments took eloquence +from the look, the mien, the +sweet dignity of the very turn of the +head. Yes, she must have been a +fitting Orinda to a young Amadis. +It was not hard to see that Lady +Ellinor was ambitious—that she had +a love of fame, for fame itself—that +she was proud—that she set value +(and that morbidly) on the world’s +opinion. This was perceptible when +she spoke of her husband, even of +her daughter. It seemed to me as +if she valued the intellect of the one, +the beauty of the other, by the gauge +of the social distinction or the fashionable +<em>éclat</em>. She took measure of the +gift, as I was taught at Dr Herman’s +to take measure of the height of a +tower—by the length of the shadow it +cast upon the ground.</p> + +<p class='c008'>My dear father, with such a wife you +would never have lived eighteen years, +shivering on the edge of a great book!</p> + +<p class='c008'>My dear uncle, with such a wife +you would never have been contented +with a cork leg and a Waterloo medal! +And I understand why Mr Trevanion, +“eager and ardent” as ye say he was +in youth, with a heart bent on the +practical success of life, won the hand +of the heiress. Well, you see Mr Trevanion +has contrived not to be happy! +By the side of my listening, admiring +mother, with her blue eyes moist, +and her coral lips apart, Lady Ellinor +looks faded. Was she ever as pretty +as my mother is now? Never. But +she was much handsomer. What +delicacy in the outline, and yet how +decided in spite of the delicacy! The +eyebrow so defined—the profile slightly +aquiline, so clearly cut—with the +curved nostril, which, if physiognomists +are right, shows sensibility so +keen; and the classic lip that, but for +that dimple, would be so haughty. +But wear and tear are in that face. +The nervous excitable temper has +helped the fret and cark of ambitious +life. My dear uncle, I know +not yet your private life. But as for +my father, I am sure that, though he +might have done more on earth, he +would have been less fit for heaven, +if he had married Lady Ellinor.</p> + +<p class='c008'>At last this visit—dreaded, I am +sure, by three of the party, was over, +but not before I had promised to dine +at the Trevanions’ that day.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When we were again alone, my father +threw off a long breath, and looking +round him cheerfully, said, “Since +Pisistratus deserts us, let us console +ourselves for his absence—send for +brother Jack, and all four go down to +Richmond to drink tea.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Thank you, Austin,” said Roland. +“But I don’t want it, I assure you!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Upon your honour?” said my +father in a half whisper.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Upon my honour.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Nor I either! So Kitty, Roland, +and I will take a walk, and be back +in time to see if that young Anachronism +looks as handsome as his new +London-made clothes will allow him. +Properly speaking, he ought to go with +an apple in his hand, and a dove in +his bosom. But now I think of it, that +was luckily not the fashion with the +Athenians till the time of Alcibiades!”</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER XXIII.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>You may judge of the effect that +my dinner at Mr Trevanion’s, with a long +conversation after it with Lady +Ellinor, made upon my mind, when, +on my return home, after having +satisfied all questions of parental +curiosity, I said nervously, and looking +down,—“My dear father,—I +should like very much, if you have no +objection,—to—to—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What, my dear?” asked my father +kindly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Accept an offer Lady Ellinor has +made me, on the part of Mr Trevanion. +He wants a secretary. He is +kind enough to excuse my inexperience, +and declares I shall do very +well, and can soon get into his ways. +Lady Ellinor says (I continued with +dignity) that it will be a great opening +in public life for me; and at all +events, my dear father, I shall see +much of the world, and learn what I +really think will be more useful to me +than any thing they will teach me at +college.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>My mother looked anxiously at my +father. “It will indeed be a great +thing for Sisty,” said she timidly; +and then taking courage she added—“And +that is just the sort of life he +is formed for—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Hem!” said my uncle.</p> + +<p class='c008'>My father rubbed his spectacles +thoughtfully, and replied, after a long +pause,—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You may be right, Kitty: I don’t +think Pisistratus is meant for study; +action will suit him better. But what +does this office lead to?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Public employment, sir,” said I +boldly; “the service of my country.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If that be the case,” quoth Roland, +“I have not a word to say. But I +should have thought that for a lad of +spirit, a descendant of the old De +Caxtons, the army would have—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The army!” exclaimed my mother, +clasping her hands, and looking involuntarily +at my uncle’s cork leg.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The army!” repeated my father +peevishly. “Bless my soul, Roland, +you seem to think man is made for +nothing else but to be shot at! You +would not like the army, Pisistratus?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Why, sir, not if it pained you and +my dear mother; otherwise, indeed—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Papæ!” said my father interrupting +me. “This all comes of your +giving the boy that ambitious, uncomfortable +name, Mrs Caxton; what +could a Pisistratus be but the plague +of one’s life? That idea of serving his +country is Pisistratus ipsissimus all +over. If ever I have another son, +(<i><span lang="la">Dii meliora!</span></i>) he has only got to be +called Eratostratus, and then he will +be burning down St Paul’s; which I +believe was, by the way, first made +out of the stones of the temple of +Diana! Of the two, certainly, you +had better serve your country with a +goose-quill than by poking a bayonet +into the ribs of some unfortunate +Indian;—I don’t think there are any +other people whom the service of one’s +country makes it necessary to kill just +at present,—eh, Roland?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is a very fine field, India,” said +my uncle, sententiously. “It is the +nursery of captains.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Is it? Those plants take up a great +deal of ground, then, that might be +more profitably cultivated. And, indeed, +considering that the tallest +captains in the world will be ultimately +set into a box not above seven +feet at the longest, it is astonishing +what a quantity of room that species +of <i><span lang="fr">arbor mortis</span></i> takes in the growing! +However, Pisistratus, to return to +your request, I will think it over, and +talk to Trevanion.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Or rather to Lady Ellinor,” said +I imprudently: my mother slightly +shivered, and took her hand from mine. +I felt cut to the heart by the slip of +my own tongue.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“That, I think, your mother could +do best,” said my father, drily, “if +she wants to be quite convinced that +somebody will see that your shirts are +aired. For I suppose they mean you +to lodge at Trevanion’s.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, no!” cried my mother. “He +might as well go to college then. I +thought he was to stay with us; only +go in the morning, but, of course, sleep +here.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If I know any thing of Trevanion,” +said my father, “his secretary will be +expected to do without sleep. Poor +boy, you don’t know what it is you +desire. And yet, at your age, I—” +my father stopped short. “No!” he +renewed abruptly, after a long silence, +and as if soliloquising. “No, man +is never wrong while he lives for +others. The philosopher who contemplates +from the rock, is a less noble +image than the sailor who struggles +with the storm. Why should there +be two of us? And <em>could</em> he be an +<em>alter ego</em>, even if I wished it? impossible!” +My father turned on his +chair, and, laying the left leg on the +right knee, said smilingly, as he bent +down to look me full in the face; +“But, Pisistratus, will you promise +me always to wear the saffron bag?”</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER XXIV.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>I now make a long stride in my narrative. +I am domesticated with the +Trevanions. A very short conversation +with the statesman sufficed to decide +my father; and the pith of it lay +in this single sentence uttered by Trevanion—“I +promise you one thing—he +shall never be idle!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Looking back, I am convinced that +my father was right, and that he understood +my character, and the temptations +to which I was most prone, +when he consented to let me resign +college and enter thus prematurely on +the world of men. I was naturally +so joyous, that I should have made college +life a holiday, and then, in repentance, +worked myself into a phthisis.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And my father, too, was right, that, +though I could study, I was not meant +for a student.</p> + +<p class='c008'>After all, the thing was an experiment. +I had time to spare: if the +experiment failed, a year’s delay would +not necessarily be a year’s loss.</p> + +<p class='c008'>I am ensconced, then, at Mr Trevanion’s. +I have been there some +months—it is late in the winter—parliament +and the season have commenced. +I work hard—Heaven knows, +harder than I should have worked at +college. Take a day for a sample.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Trevanion gets up at eight o’clock, +and in all weathers rides an hour before +breakfast; at nine he takes that +meal in his wife’s dressing-room; at +half-past nine he comes into his study. +By that time he expects to find done +by his secretary the work I am about +to describe.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On coming home, or rather before going +to bed, which is usually after three +o’clock, it is Mr Trevanion’s habit to +leave on the table of the said study a +list of directions for the secretary. The +following, which I take at random +from many I have preserved, may show +their multifarious nature:—</p> + + <dl class='dl_1'> + <dt>1.</dt> + <dd>Look out in the Reports—Committee House of Lords for the last seven years—all that is + said about the growth of flax—mark the passages for me. + </dd> + <dt>2.</dt> + <dd>Do. do—“Irish Emigration.” + </dd> + <dt>3.</dt> + <dd>Hunt out second volume of Kames’s History of Man, passage containing “Reid’s Logic”—don’t + know where the book is! + </dd> + <dt>4.</dt> + <dd>How does the line beginning “Lumina conjurent, inter” something, end? Is it in Gray? See! + </dd> + <dt>5.</dt> + <dd>Fracastorius writes—“<span lang="la">Quantum hoc <em>infecit</em> vitium, quot adiverit urbes.</span>” + Query, Ought it not to be—<i><span lang="la">infecerit</span></i> instead of <i><span lang="la">infecit</span></i>?—if you + don’t know, write to father. + </dd> + <dt>6.</dt> + <dd>Write the four letters in full from the notes I leave, <em>i.e.</em> about the + Ecclesiastical Courts. + </dd> + <dt>7.</dt> + <dd>Look out Population Returns—strike average of last five years (between mortality and + births), in Devonshire and Lancashire. + </dd> + <dt>8.</dt> + <dd>Answer these six begging-letters; “No”—civilly. + </dd> + <dt>9.</dt> + <dd>The other six, to constituents—“that I have no interest with Government.” + </dd> + <dt>10.</dt> + <dd>See, if you have time, whether any of the new books on the round table are not trash. + </dd> + <dt>11.</dt> + <dd>I want to know <span class='fss'>ALL</span> about Indian corn! + </dd> + <dt>12.</dt> + <dd>Longinus says something, somewhere, in regret for uncongenial pursuits, (public life, I + suppose)—what is it? N.B. Longinus is not in my London Catalogue, but is here I know—I + think in a box in the lumber-room. + </dd> + <dt>13.</dt> + <dd>Set right the calculation I leave on the poor-rates. I have made a blunder somewhere. &c. + &c. + </dd> + </dl> + +<p class='c008'>Certainly my father knew Mr Trevanion; +he never expected a secretary +to sleep! To have all the above +ready by half-past nine, I get up by +candle-light. At half-past nine I am +still hunting for Longinus, when Mr +Trevanion comes in with a bundle +of letters.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Answers to half the said letters fall +to my share. Directions verbal—in +a species of short-hand talk. While +I write, Mr Trevanion reads the newspapers—examines +what I have done—makes +notes therefrom, some for +Parliament, some for conversation, +some for correspondence—skims over +the Parliamentary papers of the morning—and +jots down directions for +extracting, abridging, and comparing +them, with others, perhaps twenty +years old. At eleven he walks down +to a Committee of the House of Commons—leaving +me plenty to do—till +half-past three, when he returns. +At four, Fanny puts her head into +the room—and I lose mine. Four +days in the week Mr Trevanion +then disappears for the rest of the +day,—dines at Bellamy’s or a club—expects +me at the House at eight +o’clock, in case he thinks of something, +wants a fact or a quotation. +He then releases me—generally with +a fresh list of instructions. But I +have my holidays, nevertheless. On +Wednesdays and Saturdays Mr Trevanion +gives dinners, and I meet the +most eminent men of the day—on +both sides. For Trevanion is +on both sides himself—or on no side +at all, which comes to the same thing. +On Tuesdays, Lady Ellinor gives me +a ticket for the Opera, and I get there +at least in time for the ballet. I +have already invitations enough to +balls and soirées, for I am regarded as +an only son of great expectations. I +am treated as becomes a Caxton who +has the right, if he pleases, to put +a De before his name. I have grown +very smart. I have taken a passion +for dress—natural to eighteen. I like +every thing I do, and every one about +me. I am over head and ears in love +with Fanny Trevanion—who breaks +my heart, nevertheless; for she flirts +with two peers, a life-guardsman, +three old members of parliament, Sir +Sedley Beaudesert, one ambassador, +and all his attachés, and, positively, +(the audacious minx!) with a bishop, +in full wig and apron, who, people say, +means to marry again.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Pisistratus has lost colour and flesh. +His mother says he is very much improved,—<em>that</em> +he takes to be the natural +effect produced by Stultz and +varnished boots. Uncle Jack says he +is “fined down.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>His father looks at him, and writes +to Trevanion,—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Dear T.—I refused a salary for +my son. Give him a horse, and two +hours a day to ride it. Yours, A. C.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The next day I am master of a +pretty bay mare, and riding by the +side of Fanny Trevanion. Alas! alas!</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER XXV.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>I have not mentioned my Uncle +Roland. He is gone—abroad—to +fetch his daughter. He has stayed +longer than was expected. Does he +seek his son still—there as here? +My father has finished the first portion +of his work, in two great volumes. +Uncle Jack, who for some time has +been looking melancholy, and who now +seldom stirs out, except on Sundays, +(on which days we all meet at my +father’s and dine together)—Uncle +Jack, I say, has undertaken to sell it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Don’t be over sanguine,” says +Uncle Jack, as he locks up the MS. +in two red boxes with a slit in the lids, +which belonged to one of the defunct +companies. “Don’t be over sanguine +as to the price. These publishers +never venture much on a first experiment. +They must be talked even into +looking at the book.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh!” said my father, “if they +will publish it at all, and at their own +risk, I should not stand out for any +other terms. ‘Nothing great,’ said +Dryden, ‘ever came from a venal pen!’”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“An uncommonly foolish observation +of Dryden’s,” returned Uncle +Jack: “he ought to have known +better.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“So he did,” said I, “for he used +his pen to fill his pockets—poor man!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But the pen was not venal, master +Anachronism,” said my father. “A +baker is not to be called venal if he +sells his loaves—he is venal if he sells +himself: Dryden only sold his loaves.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And we must sell yours,” said +Uncle Jack emphatically. “A thousand +pounds a volume will be about +the mark, eh?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A thousand pounds a volume?” +cried my father. “Gibbon, I fancy, +did not receive more.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Very likely; Gibbon had not an +Uncle Jack to look after his interests,” +said Mr Tibbets, laughing, and rubbing +those smooth hands of his. “No! two +thousand pounds the two volumes!—a +sacrifice, but still I recommend +moderation.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I should be happy, indeed, if the +book brought in any thing,” said my +father, evidently fascinated—“for that +young gentleman is rather expensive; +and you, my dear Jack;—perhaps half +the sum may be of use to you!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“To me! my dear brother,” cried +Uncle Jack—“to me! why, when my +new speculation has succeeded, I shall +be a millionnaire!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Have you a new speculation, +Uncle?” said I anxiously. “What is +it?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Mum!” said my uncle, putting his +finger to his lip, and looking all round +the room—“Mum!! Mum!!!”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Pisistratus.</span>—“A Grand National +Company for blowing up both Houses +of Parliament!”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Mr Caxton.</span>—“Upon my life, I +hope something newer than that; for +they, to judge by the newspapers, +don’t want brother Jack’s assistance +to blow up each other!”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Uncle Jack</span>, mysteriously.—“Newspapers! +you don’t often read a +newspaper, Austin Caxton!”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Mr Caxton.</span>—“Granted, John +Tibbets!”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Uncle Jack.</span>—“But if my speculation +made you read a newspaper +every day?”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Mr Caxton</span>, astounded.—“Made +me read a newspaper every day!”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Uncle Jack</span>, warming, and expanding +his hands to the fire.—“As +big as the Times!”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Mr Caxton</span>, uneasily.—“Jack, +you alarm me!”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Uncle Jack.</span>—“And make you +write in it, too,—a leader!”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Mr Caxton</span>, pushing back his +chair, seizes the only weapon at his +command, and hurls at Uncle Jack +a great sentence of Greek.—“Τους μεν +γαρ ειναι χαλεπους, ὁσε λαι ανθροποφαγειν!”<a id='r7'></a><a href='#f7' class='c009'><sup>[7]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Uncle Jack</span>, nothing daunted.—“Ay, +and put as much Greek as you +like into it!”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='sc'>Mr Caxton</span>, relieved, and softening.—“My +dear Jack, you are a great +man,—let us hear you!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then Uncle Jack began. Now, +perhaps my readers may have remarked +that this illustrious speculator +was really fortunate in his ideas. His +speculations in themselves always had +something sound in the kernel, considering +how barren they were in the +fruit; and this it was that made him +so dangerous. The idea Uncle Jack +had now got hold of will, I am convinced, +make a man’s fortune one of +these days; and I relate it with a sigh, +in thinking how much has gone out of +the family. Know, then, it was nothing +less than setting up a daily paper +on the plan of the Times, but devoted +entirely to Art, Literature, and Science—<em>Mental</em> +Progress in short; I say on +the plan of the Times, for it was to +imitate the mighty machinery of that +diurnal illuminator. It was to be the +Literary Salmoneus of the political +Jupiter: and rattle its thunder over +the bridge of knowledge. It was to +have correspondents in all parts of the +globe; every thing that related to the +chronicle of the mind, from the labour +of a missionary in the South Sea +islands, or the research of a traveller +in pursuit of that mirage called Timbuctoo, +to the last new novel at Paris, +or the last great emendation of a Greek +particle at a German university, was +to find a place in this focus of light. +It was to amuse, to instruct, to interest—there +was nothing it was not to +do. Not a man in the whole reading +public, not only of the three kingdoms, +not only of the British empire, but +under the cope of heaven, that it was +not to touch somewhere, in head, in +heart, or in pocket. The most crotchety +member of the intellectual community +might find his own hobby in +those stables.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Think,” cried Uncle Jack—“think +of the march of mind—think of the +passion for cheap knowledge—think +how little quarterly, monthly, weekly +journals can keep pace with the main +wants of the age. As well have a +weekly journal on politics, as a-weekly +journal on all the matters still more +interesting than politics to the mass +of the public. My Literary Times +once started, people will wonder how +they had ever lived without it! Sir, +they have not lived without it—they +have vegetated—they have lived in +holes and caves like the Troggledikes.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Troglodytes,” said my father +mildly—“from <em>trogle</em>, a cave—and +<i><span lang="it">dumi</span></i>, to go under. They lived in +Ethiopia, and had their wives in +common.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“As to the last point, I don’t say +that the Public, poor creatures, are as +bad as that,” said Uncle Jack candidly; +“but no simile holds good in +all its points. And the public are +not less Troggledummies, or whatever +you call them, compared with +what they will be when living under +the full light of my Literary Times. +Sir, it will be a revolution in the +world. It will bring literature out of +the clouds into the parlour, the cottage, +the kitchen. The idlest dandy, +the finest fine lady, will find something +to her taste; the busiest man +of the mart and counter will find some +acquisition to his practical knowledge. +The practical man will see the progress +of divinity, medicine, nay, even +law. Sir, the Indian will read me +under the banyan; I shall be in the +seraglios of the East; and over my +sheets the American Indian will smoke +the calumet of peace. We shall reduce +politics to its proper level in the +affairs of life—raise literature to its +due place in the thoughts and business +of men. It is a grand thought; +and my heart swells with pride while +I contemplate it!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My dear Jack,” said my father, +seriously, and rising with emotion, +“it <em>is</em> a grand thought, and I honour +you for it! You are quite right—it +would be a revolution! It would +educate mankind insensibly. Upon +my life, I should be proud to write a +leader, or a paragraph. Jack, you +will immortalise yourself!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I believe I shall,” said Uncle Jack, +modestly; “but I have not said a word +yet on the greatest attraction of all—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ah! and that—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“<span class='sc'>The Advertisements!</span>” cried +my uncle, spreading his hands, with all +the fingers at angles, like the threads +of a spider’s web. “The advertisements—oh, +think of them!—a perfect +<em>El Dorado</em>. The advertisements, sir, +on the most moderate calculation, will +bring us in £50,000 a-year. My dear +Pisistratus, I shall never marry, you +are my heir. Embrace me!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>So saying, my Uncle Jack threw +himself upon me, and squeezed out +of breath the prudential demur that +was rising to my lips.</p> + +<p class='c008'>My poor mother, between laughing +and sobbing, faltered out—“And it is +<em>my</em> brother who will pay back to <em>his</em> +son all, all he gave up for me!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>While my father walked to and fro’ +the room, more excited than ever I +saw him before, muttering,—“A sad +useless dog I have been hitherto! I +should like to serve the world! I +should indeed!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Uncle Jack had fairly done it this +time! He had found out the only +bait in the world to catch so shy a +carp as my father—“<i><span lang="la">hæret lethalis +arundo</span></i>.” I saw that the deadly hook +was within an inch of my father’s nose, +and that he was gazing at it with a +fixed determination to swallow.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But if it amused my father? Boy that +I was, I saw no further. I must own +I myself was dazzled, and perhaps, +with childlike malice, delighted at the +perturbation of my betters. The +young carp was pleased to see the +waters so playfully in movement, +when the old carp waved his tail, and +swayed himself on his fins.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Mum!” said Uncle Jack, releasing +me: “not a word to Mr Trevanion, to +any one.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But why?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Why? God bless my soul. +Why? If my scheme gets wind, do +you suppose some one will not clap +on sail to be before me? You frighten +me out of my senses. Promise me +faithfully to be silent as the grave—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I should like to hear Trevanion’s +opinion too—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“As well hear the town-crier! Sir, +I have trusted to your honour. Sir, +at the domestic hearth all secrets are +sacred. Sir, I—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My dear Uncle Jack, you have +said quite enough. Not a word will I +breathe!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I’m sure you may trust him, +Jack,” said my mother.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And I do trust him—with wealth +untold,” replied my uncle. “May I +ask you for a little water—with a +trifle of brandy in it—and a biscuit, +or indeed a sandwich. This talking +makes me quite hungry.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>My eye fell upon Uncle Jack as he +spoke. Poor Uncle Jack, he had +grown thin!</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span> + <h2 class='c002'>LIFE AND TIMES OF GEORGE II.<a id='r8'></a><a href='#f8' class='c009'><sup>[8]</sup></a></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>It has been the fortune of England +to have undergone more revolutions +than any other kingdom of Europe. +Later periods have made Revolution +synonymous with popular violence; +but the more effectual revolution is +that which, being required by the +necessities of a people, is directed by +the national judgment. It is not the +convulsion of a tempest, which, if it +purifies the air, strips the soil; it is +a change, not of temperature but of +the seasons, gradual but irresistible; +it is a great operation of moral Nature, +in every change preparing for the +more abundant provision of public +prosperity.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It is an equally remarkable contrast +to the condition of other kingdoms, +that while their popular revolutions +have almost always plunged the +country into confusion, and been ultimately +rectified only by the salutary +despotism of some powerful master, +the hazards of our revolutions have +chiefly originated in personal ambition, +and have been reduced to +order by popular sentiment.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Reformation was the first <em>great</em> +revolution of England: it formed +the national circle of light and darkness. +All beyond it was civil war, +arbitrary power, and popular wretchedness—all +within it has been progress, +growing vigour, increasing +illumination, and more systematic +liberty. Like the day, it had its +clouds; but the sun was still above, +ready to shine through their first +opening. That sun has not yet stooped +from its meridian, and will go down, +only when we forget to honour the +Beneficence and the power which commanded +it to shine.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The accession of the Hanoverian +line was one of those peaceful revolutions—it +closed the era of Jacobitism. +The reign of Anne had vibrated between +the principles of the constitution and +the principles of Charles II. Never +was a balance more evenly poised, +than the fate of freedom against the +return to arbitrary power. Anne +herself was a Jacobite—she had all the +superstition of “Divine right.” By her +nature she had the infirmities of the +convent. She was evidently fitter to be +an abbess than a queen: a character +of frigidness and formality designated +her for the cloister; and if the Hanoverian +succession had not been palpably +prepared before the national +eye, to ascend the throne at the +moment when the royal coffin sank +into the vault, England might have +seen the profligate son of James dealing +out vengeance through a corrupted +or terrified legislature; the Reformation +extinguished by the Inquisitor; +the jesuit at the royal ear, mass in +Westminster Abbey, and the scaffold +the instrument of conversion to the +supremacy of Rome.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The expulsion of the Stuarts had +left the throne to the disposal of the +nation. By the Bill of Rights, it +was determined that the succession +should go to the heirs of William and +Mary; and, in their default, to Anne, +daughter of James. But the deaths +of Mary, and of the Duke of Gloucester, +awoke the hopes of Popery and +the cabals of Jacobitism once more. +The danger was imminent. William +became deeply anxious for the Protestant +succession, and a bill was brought +into the House of Commons, declaring +that the crown should devolve on the +Electress Sophia, Duchess-dowager of +Hanover, and her heirs,—the Electress +of Hanover (or more correctly, of +Brunswick and Luneburg) being the +tenth child of Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, +daughter of James I., the only +Protestant princess among the foreign +relations of the line. The next in succession +to Anne in the Roman Catholic +line would have been the houses of Savoy, +France, and Spain, through Henrietta, +daughter of Charles I. This order +of succession was made law by the +12th of William III., and confirmed +in the next session by the Abjuration +Act, (13th William,) so named from +the oath <em>abjuring</em> the Pretender.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It is striking to observe how many +high matters of legislation have +seemed the work of casualty. The +Habeas Corpus Act, confessedly +the noblest achievement of British +liberty since Magna Charta, was said +to have been carried by a mistake in +counting the votes of the House; +the limitation to the Electress was +proposed by a half-lunatic; the oath +of abjuration was carried but by a majority +of one; and the Reform Bill, +which, though a measure as doubtful +in its principles as disappointing in +its promises, has yet exercised an +extraordinary power over the constitution, +was carried in its second reading +by a majority of only one.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It is more important to observe +how large a share of legislation, in +the reign of Anne, was devoted to +the security of the Protestant succession. +The 4th, 6th, and 10th of +Anne are occupied in devising clauses +to give it force. It was guaranteed +in all the great diplomatic transactions +of the reign,—in the Dutch +Treaty of 1706, in the Barrier Treaty +of 1709, in the Guarantee Treaty +of 1713, and in the Treaty of Utrecht +of the same year, between England +and France, and England and +Spain.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This diligence and determination +seem wholly due to the spirit of the +people. The Queen was almost a +Jacobite; her ministers carried on +correspondences with the family of +James; there was scarcely a man of +influence in public life who had not +an agent at St Germains. Honest +scruples, too, had been long entertained +among individuals of high rank. Six +of the seven bishops who had so +boldly resisted the arrogance of James, +shrank from repudiating the claims of +his son. It is true, that nothing +could be feebler than their reasons; +for nothing could be more evident +than the treason of James to the oath +which he had sworn at his coronation. +Its violation was his virtual dethronement—his +abdication was his actual +dethronement; and the principles of +his family, all Papists like himself, +rendered it impossible to possess freedom +of conscience, while any one of +a race of bigots and tyrants retained +the power to oppress. Thus the +nation only vindicated itself, and used +only the common rights of selfdefence; +and used them only in the +calm and deliberate forms of self-preservation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This strong abhorrence of the +exiled family arose alike from a sense +of religion, and a sense of fear. The +people had seen with disgust and disdain +the persecution of Protestantism +by the French King. They had seen +the scandalous treachery which had +broken all compacts, the ostentatious +falsehood which had trafficked in promises, +and the remorseless cruelty +which had strewed the Protestant provinces +with dead. The Revocation +of the Edict of Nantes gave a sanguinary +and perpetual caution “not to +put their trust in princes;” and the +generous spirit of the people, doubly +excited by scorn for the persecutor, +and pity for his victims, was thenceforth +armed in panoply alike against +the arts and the menaces of Jacobitism +and Popery. So it has been, and +so may it ever be. The Stuarts have +passed away—they mouldered from +the sight of men; they have no more +place or name on earth; they have +been sunk in the mire of their monkism; +their “drowned honour” is incapable +of being plucked up even “by +the locks;” but their principles survive, +and against their corruption we +must guard the very air we breathe.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Electress, a woman of remarkable +intelligence, died in 1714, in her +84th year. The Queen died in the +August following. George I., Elector +of Brunswick, son of Sophia, arrived +in England in September, and was +King of the fairest empire in the +world. He was then fifty-four years +old.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The habits of George I. were Continental—a +phrase which implies all of +laxity that is consistent with the etiquette +of a court. His personal reign +was anxious, troubled, and toilsome; +but the nation prospered, and the era +had evidently arrived when the character +of the sitter on the throne had +ceased to attract the interest, or influence +the conduct of the nation. The +King had no taste for the fine arts: he +had no knowledge of literature. He had +served in the army, like all the German +princes, but had served without distinction. +He loved Hanoverian life, and he +was incapable of enjoying the life of +England. He lived long enough to be +easily forgotten, and died of apoplexy +on his <em>way to Hanover</em>!</p> + +<p class='c008'>George II., the chief object of these +Memoirs, only son of George I. and +Sophia Dorothea, was forty-four at +his accession. In 1705 he had married +Caroline, daughter of the Margrave +of Brandenburg Anspach.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The reign of George II. was the +era of another revolution—the supremacy +of ministers. A succession of +ambitious and able men governed the +country by parties. The King was +intelligent and active, yet they controlled +him, until he found his chief +task to be limited to obedience. He +was singularly fond of power, and +openly jealous of authority, but his +successive ministers were the virtual +masters of the crown. His chief vexations +arose from their struggles for +office; and his only compensation to +his injured feelings was, in dismissing +one cabinet, to find himself shackled +by another. He seems to have lived +in a state of constant ebullition with +the world—speaking sarcastically of +every leading person of his own society, +and on harsh terms with his +family. His personal habits were incapable +of being praised, even by flattery, +and the names of the Walmodens, +the Deloraines, and the Howards, +still startle the graver sensibilities +of our time.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But his public conduct forms a +striking contrast to those painful +scenes. He was bold in conception +and diligent in business. He felt the +honour of being an English king; and +though he wasted time and popularity +in his childish habit of making +his escape to Hanover whenever he +could, he offered no wilful offence to +the feelings of the people. His letters +on public affairs exhibit strong sense, +and he had the wisdom to leave his +finance in the hands of Walpole, and +the manliness to suffer himself to be +afterwards eclipsed by the lustre of +Chatham. His reign, which had begun +in difficulties, and was carried on in +perils, closed in triumph.—The French +navy was swept from the ocean; the +battle of the Heights of Abraham gave +him Canada; the battle of Plassy gave +him India; and at his death, in 1760, +at the age of seventy-seven, he left +England in a blaze of glory.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The death of George I. had brought +Walpole forward as the minister of +his son. The story of Sir Spencer +Compton has been often told, but +never so well as in these Memoirs. +The King died on the 11th of June 1727 +at Osnaburg. The news reached +Walpole on the 14th, at his villa in +Chelsea. He immediately went to Richmond +to acquaint the Prince of Wales +with this momentous intelligence. +The Prince was asleep after dinner, +according to his custom; but he was +awakened for the intelligence, which +he appeared to receive with surprise. +Yet, neither the sense of his being +raised to a throne, nor the natural feelings +of such an occasion, prevented +the exhibition of his dislike to Walpole. +On being asked, when it was +his pleasure that the Council should be +summoned, the King’s abrupt answer +was, “Go to Chiswick, and take your +directions from Sir Spencer Compton.” +Sir Robert bore this ill-usage with his +habitual philosophy, and went to +Compton at once. There he acted +with his usual address; told him that +he was minister, and requested his +protection; declaring that he had no +desire for power or business, but +wished to have one of the “white +sticks,” as a mark that he was still +under the shelter of the crown.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lord Hervey delights in portraiture, +and his portraits generally have a +bitter reality, which at once proves +the truth of the likeness and the severity +of the artist. He daguerreotypes +all his generation. He thus describes +Sir Spencer: “He was a plodding, +heavy fellow, with great application +but no talents; with vast complaisance +for a court; always more concerned +for the manner of the thing than for +the thing itself; fitter for a clerk to a +minister than for a minister to a prince. +His only pleasures were money and +eating; his only knowledge forms and +precedents; and his only insinuation +bows and smiles.” Walpole and he +went together to the Duke of Devonshire, +President of the Council, but +laid up with the gout. Lord Hervey’s +sketch of him is certainly not flattering—but +such is the price paid by +personal feebleness for public station—“He +was more able as a virtuoso +than a statesman, and a much better +jockey than a politician.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>At the council Sir Spencer took +Walpole aside, and begged of him, as +a speech would be necessary for the +King in Council, that, as Sir Robert +was more accustomed to that sort of +composition than himself, he should +go into another room, and make a +draft of the speech. Sir Robert +retired to draw up his paper, and Sir +Spencer went to Leicester Fields, +where the King and Queen were +already, followed by all who had any +thing to ask, or any thing to hope—a +definition which seems to have included +the whole of what, in later parlance, +are called the fashionable world. +Whether the present sincerity of court +life is purer than of old may be doubtful, +but the older manners were certainly +the more barefaced. When the +new premier was returning to his +coach he walked through a lane of +“bowers,” all shouldering each other +to pay adoration to the new idol.</p> + +<p class='c008'>During the four days of the King’s +remaining in town, Leicester House, +which used to be a desert, was +“thronged from morning till night, like +the ‘Change at noon.’” But Walpole +walked through those rooms “as if they +had been empty.” The same people +who were officiously, a-week before, +crowding the way to flatter his prosperity, +were now getting out of it +to avoid sharing his disgrace. Horace +Walpole says, that his mother could +not make her way to pay her respects +to the King and Queen between the +scornful backs and elbows of her late +devotees, nor could approach nearer +to the Queen than the third or fourth +row, until the Queen cried out,—“There, +I am sure I see a friend.” +The torrent then divided, and shrank +to either side. In short, Walpole, +with his brother Horace, ambassador +to France, the Duke of Newcastle and +Lord Townshend, the two Secretaries +of State, were all conceived to be as +much undone, as a pasha on the arrival +of the janizary with the bowstring.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The evidences, it must be owned, +seemed remarkably strong. The King +had openly, and more than once, called +Walpole “rogue and rascal;” he had +called the ambassador “a scoundrel and +a fool;” he had declared his utter +contempt for the Duke, and his determination +never to forgive him. Townshend +fared still worse. The King +looked on him to be no more an honest +man than an able minister, and attributed +all the confusion in foreign affairs +to the heat of his temper and +his scanty genius, to the strength of +his passions and the weakness of his +understanding. There can be no +doubt that a minister of foreign affairs, +with those qualities, might become a +very mischievous animal.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On Compton’s receiving the speech +drawn up by Walpole, he carried it, in +his own handwriting, to the King. +The King objected to a paragraph, +which Sir Spencer Compton was either +unwilling or unable to amend; and +not being satisfied of his own powers +of persuasion, he actually solicited +Walpole to go to the King, and persuade +him to leave it as it was! The +Queen, who was the friend of Walpole, +instantly took advantage of this +singular acknowledgment of inferiority, +and advised the King to retain the +man whom his intended successor so +clearly acknowledged to be his superior.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nothing can be more evident than +that Sir Spencer played the fool egregiously. +To place a rival in immediate +communication with the King was, at +least, an unusual way of supplanting +him; while, to give him the advantage +of his authorship, by sending +him to explain it to the King, would +have been ridiculous under any circumstances. +But there are no miracles +in politics; and he was evidently so +far convinced of his own security, that +the idea of a rival was out of the +question. Compton had been all his +life a political personage. He had +been Paymaster; he had been Speaker +in three Parliaments; he was <em>au fait</em> +in the routine of office; and he had +evidently received the King’s order to +make a ministry. But we have had +such sufficient proof in our own time +that princes and kings are different +persons according to circumstances, +that we can perfectly comprehend the +cessation of the royal favouritism on +one side, and of the royal aversion +on the other. The civil list was still +to be voted—the subject dearest to +the royal heart. Walpole was noted +for financial management, and Compton’s +awkwardness in the preceding +transaction might well have startled +the monarch. The general result +was, that Walpole remained minister, +Compton was quietly put out of the +way with a peerage, as Lord Wilmington, +and an enormous civil list +was carried, with but a single vote, +that of Mr William Shippen, against +it. The civil list was little less than +£900,000 a-year, an immense revenue, +when we consider that the value of +money at that time probably made it +equal to double the sum now. The +present civil list would be practically +not much more than a fourth of the +amount in 1777. The Queen’s jointure +was equally exorbitant; it was +£100,000 a-year, besides Somerset +House and Richmond Lodge, a sum +amounting to double what any Queen +of England had before.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Walpole was now paramount; he +had purchased his supremacy by his +official prodigality. Lord Hervey +thinks that he was still hurt by two +mortifications—the displacement of +his son-in-law, Lord Malpas, and +of Sir William Yonge, a Lord of the +Treasury, and his notorious tool. +But, contrasting those trifling changes +with the plenitude of Walpole’s +power, and recollecting the extraordinary +wiliness of his nature, it seems +not improbable that he either counselled +or countenanced those dismissals, +to escape the invidiousness of absolute +power; for both Malpas and Yonge +clung to the court, and, after a decent +interval, were replaced in office. Walpole +was, perhaps, one of the most +singular instances of personal dexterity +in the annals of statesmanship. +Without eloquence in the House, or +character out of it; without manners +in the court, or virtue any where, he +continued to hold supreme ministerial +power for nearly a quarter of a century, +under the most jealous of kings, +with the weakest of cabinets, against +the most powerful Opposition, and in +the midst of the most contemptuous +people. His power seems even to have +grown out of those sinister elements. +By constantly balancing them against +each other, by at once awaking fears +and exciting hopes, he deluded all the +fools, and enlisted all the knaves of public +life in his cause. The permanency of +his office, however, wholly rested upon +the Queen; and he had the dexterity +to discover, from the moment of the +Royal accession, that, insulted as she +was by the King’s conduct, she was +the true source of ministerial power. +He accordingly adhered to her, in all +the fluctuations of the court, appeared +to consult her on all occasions, studied +her opinions, and provided for her +expenses. The want of money, or its +possession, seem to have exerted an +extraordinary influence on the higher +ranks in those days; and one of the +first acts of Walpole was to offer the +Queen £60,000 a-year. Sir Spencer +Compton had been impolitic enough +to propose but £40,000, on the ground +that this sum had been sufficient for +Charles II.’s queen. The sum was at +last settled at £50,000, and the donor +was not forgotten.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But it seems impossible to doubt, +that Walpole’s character was essentially +corrupt; that he regarded corruption +as a legitimate source of +power; that he bribed every man +whom he had the opportunity to +bribe: that he laughed at political +integrity, and did his best to extinguish +the little that existed; that no +minister ever went further to degrade +the character of public life; and that +the period of his supremacy is a general +blot upon the reign, the time, and the +people.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The celebrated Burke, in that magnanimous +partiality which disposed +him to overlook the vices of individuals +in the effect of their measures, +has given a high-flown panegyric on +the administration of Walpole; but +the whole is a brilliant paradox. +He looked only to the strength of the +Brunswick succession, and, taking his +stand upon that height, from which +he surveyed grand results alone, +neglected or disdained to examine into +the repulsive detail. Seeing before +him a national harvest of peace and +plenty, he never condescended to +look to the gross and offensive material +by which the furrow was fertilised. +Nothing is more certain, than +that the daily acts of Walpole would +now stamp a ministry with shame—that +no man would dare now to express +the sentiments which form the +maxims of the minister; and that any +one of the acts which, though they +passed with many a sneer, yet passed +with practical impunity, in the days +of George II., would have ruined the +proudest individual, and extinguished +the most powerful cabinet, of the last +fifty years.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The arguments which Lord Hervey +puts into the lips of the Queen are +scarcely less corrupt in another style. +She tells the King not merely that Walpole’s +long experience and known abilities +would make him the best minister, +but that his simply being in power +would make him the most submissive—that +his having made a vast fortune +already would make him less solicitous +about his own interest—that <em>new</em> +leeches would be more hungry, and +that, Walpole’s fortune being made, +he would have nothing in view +but serving the King, and securing +the government, to keep what he had +got—closing all this grave advice +with that maxim of consummate +craft, that in royal breasts both enmity +and friendship alike should always +give way to policy. If such were to +be regarded as the habitual rules of +the highest rank, well might we remonstrate +against their baseness. +The bigotry of James, or the morals +of Charles II., would be preferable to +this scandalous selfishness. But those +maxims have never found tolerance +among the people of England. We are +to recollect that they came from a despotic +soil, that they were the wisdom +of courts where the great corrective +of state-craft, public opinion, was unknown; +that they were the courage +of the timid, and the integrity of the +intriguing; and that the maxims, the +manners, and the system, have alike +been long since consigned to a deserved +and contemptuous oblivion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>By much the best part of Lord +Hervey’s authorship consists in his +characters of public personages. No +rank is suffered to shield any man. +He exercises a sort of Egyptian judgment +even upon kings, and pronounces +sentence upon their faults with all +the indignation of posthumous virtue. +The King of France at that period +had begun to exercise a powerful +influence over Europe. France, always +liable to great changes, had been +for half a century almost prostrated +before the great powers of Europe. +The triumphs of Marlborough in the +earliest years of the century had swept +her armies from the field, as the close +of the preceding century had desolated +the industry of her southern provinces +by persecution. The supremacy of the +Regent had subsequently dissolved +almost the whole remaining force of +public character in a flood of profligacy, +and the reigning King was perhaps +the most profligate man in the +most licentious nation of the world. The +description of him in these volumes is +equally disdainful and true. “I cannot,” +says Lord Hervey, “by the best +accounts I have had, and by what I have +myself seen of this insensible piece of +royalty, venture absolutely to say +that he was of a good or bad disposition, +for, more properly speaking, +he was of no disposition at all. He was +neither merciful nor cruel, without +affection or enmity, without gratitude +or resentment, and, to all appearance, +without pleasure or pain.” His actions +are described as resembling more +the mechanical movements of an automaton, +than the effects of will and +reason. The state of his mind seemed +to be a complete apathy, neither acting +nor acted on. If he had any +passion, it was avarice; and if he +took pleasure in any amusement, it +was in gaming. It is observed that +he had not any share in the “epidemical +gaiety that runs through +the French nation.” He appeared to +take as little pleasure as he gave, to +live to as little purpose to himself as +to any body else, and to have no more +joy in being King, than his people +had advantage in being his subjects.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was the good fortune of France +to be governed at this period by +Cardinal Fleury, a man of no distinction +for talents, yet possessing a +plain, practical understanding, habitual +prudence, and personal honesty. +But his most important qualification +was a remarkable absence of the +passion for disturbing the world, +which seems to have made him an exception +to all Frenchmen since the days +of Julius Cæsar. Fleury loved peace, +and was so far an illustrious anomaly in +French nature. Something of this singular +contradiction to his countrymen +may have arisen from his being eighty +years old, from his habits as an ecclesiastic, +and from his being fully +acquainted with the fact, that France +had not the power to go to war. The +result of this policy was not merely +tranquillising to Europe, but fortunate +for France. Her task was to recover +from the wasteful wars of Louis XIV., +from the general corruption of the +Regency, from the financial follies of +the Mississippi scheme, and from +the weak and rapacious ministry of +the Duke of Bourbon. The administration +of Cardinal Fleury met all her +evils, and met them with patience, +and thus with success. France has +been always the great disturber of +Europe, and will be so whenever she +has the power to disturb; but the old +Cardinal, conscious of her helplessness, +applied himself to restrain her +ambition, and taught her that the indulgence +of vanity was no compensation +for defeat, and that war was folly, at +least until success was possible. Under +this rational course of government, +the public mind was turned to intellectual +advancement and national industry. +Paris, instead of being the +centre of European profligacy, rapidly +became the centre of European science. +A succession of extraordinary men +threw light upon every kingdom of +nature and knowledge. The Continent +actually basked in the beams of +France; her language became universal, +her literature the general +model, her taste the leader of European +refinement, her manners the +standard of fashion to the world; and, +at the accession of the unfortunate +Louis XVI., Paris, the court, and the +people, possessed an acknowledged +supremacy over the opinions, the +habits, and the accomplishments of +Europe, to which no kingdom of the +modern world has ever exhibited a +parallel.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The closing period of the eighteenth +century has already been given to +the world by a historian equal to the +magnitude of his subject. The “History +of the French Revolution,” by +Alison, will never be superseded. The +extent of its information, the clearness +of its details, the freshness and +fidelity of its descriptions, and the +force and vividness of its language, +place it at the head of all contemporary +annals. But we should wish +also to see a History of the whole +preceding portion of the century. +The French Revolution was a result: +we should desire to see the origin. It +was a burst of gigantic violence, and +gigantic strength: we should desire to +have the primal <em>myth</em> of this assault +of the Titans; the narrative of their +growth, their passions, and their +powers, until the moment when they +moved against the battlements of all +that was lofty, magnificent, and glittering +in the land. There is nothing +without a cause on earth,—accident is +a name which has no place in the Providential +supremacy of things. To investigate +the sources of even the +common events of nature, is a subject +worthy of the philosopher. But there +never was a time when it was more +important to connect its mightier +changes with the mystery in which +they find their birth; to ascertain the +laws of national convulsion; to fix +the theory of moral storms and inundations. +Such would be among the +highest services, as they might administer +to the most effective security of +the social system.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It strikes us, that our chief historians +have hitherto limited their +view too much to England: a +broader view would have been more +productive. The combinations of this +great country with the Continental +kingdoms; the contrasts furnished by +them all; the variety in their means +of working out the same object of +national power; their comparative +tardiness; even their failures, would +have supplied new conceptions of history, +and have added alike to the +illustration and the interest of that +political science which is among the +noblest bequests of a great nation to +posterity. We are fully convinced +that politics, rightly examined, will +be found to constitute a <em>system</em>, as +much as astronomy, and that a <em>solitary</em> +kingdom would be as much a +contradiction to nature as a solitary +star.</p> + +<p class='c007'>We now glance over the pages of +these volumes: they are very amusing. +If they do not give the court +<em>costumes</em> of a hundred years ago, they +give the mental costumes. The witty +and the wise, the great and the little, +pass before the eye with the rapidity +and the oddity of the figures in a show-box. +Kings, queens, and courtiers +are exhibited to the life; and, harsh +as their physiognomies may sometimes +seem, the exhibition is always +amusing.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The King was generally regarded +as being governed by his wife, and +the opinion was not the less general +because the King constantly boasted +of his own independence. One day, +alluding to this subject, he said, +“Charles I. was governed by his +wife, Charles II. by his mistresses, +James by his priests, William by his +men-favourites, and Anne by her +women-favourites.” He then turned +with a significant and satisfied air, +and asked, “Who do they say governs +now?” The political squibs of the +time were, however, of a different +opinion from the King. For example—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c021'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“You may strut, dapper George, but ‘twill all be in vain,</div> + <div class='line'>We know ’tis Queen Caroline, not you, that reign—</div> + <div class='line'>You govern no more than Don Philip of Spain.</div> + <div class='line'>Then, if you would have us fall down and adore you,</div> + <div class='line'>Lock up your fat spouse, as your dad did before you.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>The “dapper” was an allusion to +the King’s figure, which was much +under size. The locking up was an +allusion to the imprisonment of the +wife of George I., whom, by an atrocious +act of cruelty, he had shut up +in one of his castles for thirty-two +years. It argues something in favour +of the progress of public opinion, that +in our day the most despotic or +powerful sovereign of Europe would +not dare to commit an act, which was +then committed with perfect impunity +by a little German Elector. +Another of those squibs began—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c021'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Since England was England there never was seen</div> + <div class='line'>So strutting a King, and so prating a Queen.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>The first of those brought Lord +Scarborough into a formidable scrape; +for, being taxed by the King with +having seen it, evidently in private, +the King demanded to know who had +shown it to him. Scarborough declared +that he was on his honour, not to +reveal it. On this the King became +furious, and said to him, “Had I +been Lord Scarborough in this situation, +and you king, the man should +have shot me, or I him, who had +dared to affront me in the person of +my master, by showing me such insolent +nonsense!” His Lordship replied, +that he never told his Majesty it was +a man from whom he had it. He +consequently left the King, (who never +spoke to him for three months after,) +almost as much irritated against him +as the author.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lord Hervey’s portrait of the celebrated +Chesterfield is a work of +elaborate peevishness. It has all the +marks of an angry rival, and all the +caricature of a pen dipped in personal +mortification. He allows him +wit, but with an utter “mismanagement +in its use;” talent without common-sense, +and a ridiculous propensity +to love-making, with an ungainly face +and a repulsive figure. This character +is new to those who have been so long +accustomed to regard Chesterfield +even on the more unfavourable side +of his character. To his admirers +the portrait is of course intolerable; +but we must leave some future biographer +to settle those matters with +the ghost of his libeller.</p> + +<p class='c008'>An anecdote is given illustrative of +the violence of Lord Townshend’s +temper, and the cutting calmness of +Walpole’s. Townshend was a man +of considerable powers, but singularly +irritable. He had been from an +early period engaged in office, and +was a constant debater in the House. +His temper, however, made him so +publicly disliked, and his selfishness so +much alienated public men, that when +he left office he did not leave a regret +behind. He was followed only by +epigrams, of which one is given—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c021'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“With such a head, and such a heart,</div> + <div class='line'>If fortune fails to take thy part,</div> + <div class='line'>And long continues thus unkind,</div> + <div class='line'>She must be deaf as well as blind,</div> + <div class='line'>And, quite reversing every rule,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor see the knave, nor hear the fool.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Lord Townshend had been Foreign +Secretary, and Walpole had to defend +his blunders in the Commons. +This made the latter anxious, and +the former jealous. Another source +of discontent was added, probably +with still greater effect. Walpole, +who had begun as a subordinate to +Townshend, had risen above him. +He had begun poor, and now exceeded +him in fortune; and, as the +last offence, he had built Houghton, +a much handsomer mansion than +Lord Townshend’s house at Raynham, +which his lordship had once considered +as the boast of Norfolk. Thus +both were in a condition for perpetual +squabble. The anecdote to which we +have alluded was this:—One evening, +at Windsor, on the Queen’s asking +Walpole and Townshend where +they had dined that day, the latter +said that he had dined at home with +Lord and Lady Trevor; on which +Walpole said to her Majesty, smiling, +“My lord, Madam, I think, is grown +<em>coquet</em> from a long widowhood, and +has some design upon my Lady Trevor; +for his assiduity of late, in that +family, is grown so much beyond +common civility, that without this +solution I know not how to account +for it.” The burlesque of this not +very decorous observation was obvious, +for Lady Trevor was nearly +seventy years old, and, besides being +a woman of character, was of the +“most forbidding countenance that +natural ugliness, age, and small-pox, +ever compounded.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Townshend, affecting to take +the remark literally, replied with +great warmth—“No, sir, I am not +one of those fine gentlemen who find +no time of life, nor any station in +the world, preservatives against follies +and immoralities that are hardly excusable +when youth and idleness make +us most liable,” &c., &c. In short, +his lordship made a speech in which +his voice trembled, and every limb +shook with passion. But Walpole, +always master of his temper, made +him no other answer than asking him +with a smile, and in a very mild tone +of voice, “What, my lord, all this +for Lady Trevor!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Queen grew uneasy, and, to +avoid Townshend’s replying, only +laughed, and turned the conversation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>An anecdote is told of the Duchess +of Queensberry’s being forbid the +court; which belongs to the literary +history of the cleverest opera in our +own or any other language—Gay’s +famous production. Walpole, justly +regarding himself as caricatured in +the “Beggar’s Opera,” obtained the +Duke of Grafton’s authority as Lord +Chamberlain to suppress the representation +of his next opera, “Polly.” +Gay resolved to publish it by subscription, +and his patroness, the +Duchess of Queensberry, put herself +at the head of the undertaking, and +solicited every person she met, to subscribe. +As the Duchess was handsome, +a wit, and of the first fashion, +she obtained guineas in all directions, +even from those who dreaded to encourage +this act of defiance. The +Duchess’s zeal, however, increased +with her success; and she even came +to the drawing-room, and under the +very eye of majesty solicited subscriptions +for a play which the monarch +had forbidden to be acted. When the +King came into the drawing-room, seeing +the Duchess very busy in a corner +with three or four persons, he asked +her what she was doing. She answered, +“What must be agreeable, she was +sure, to any body so humane as his +Majesty, for it was an act of charity; +and a charity to which she did not +despair of bringing his Majesty to +contribute.” This proceeding was so +much resented, that Mr Stanhope, +vice-chamberlain to the King, was +sent in form to the Duchess to forbid +her coming to court. The message +was verbal; but she desired to send a +written answer—wrote it on the spot—and +thus furnished a document, +whose style certainly exhibited more +sincerity than courtiership.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“That the Duchess of Queensberry +is surprised and well pleased that +the King has given her so agreeable a +command as to stay from court, +where she never came for diversion, +but to bestow a great civility on the +King and Queen. She hopes that, by +such an unprecedented order as this, +the King will see as few as he +wishes at his court, particularly such +as dare to think or speak truth. I +dare not do otherwise, and ought not, +nor could have imagined that it +would not have been the very highest +compliment I could possibly pay the +King, to endeavour to support truth +and innocence in his house—particularly +when the King and Queen both +told me that they had not read Mr +Gay’s play. I have certainly done +right, then, to stand by my own words +rather than his Grace of Grafton’s, +who hath neither made use of truth, +judgment, nor honour, through this +whole affair, either for himself or his +friends.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>C. Queensberry.</span>”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>When her Grace had finished this +paper, drawn up, as Lord Hervey observes, +“with more spirit than accuracy,” +Stanhope requested of her to +think again, and give him a more courtly +message to deliver. The Duchess took +her pen and wrote another, but it was +so much more disrespectful, that he +asked for the former one and delivered +it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was, of course, a prodigious +quantity of court gossip on this occasion: +and, doubtless, though some +pretended to be shocked, many were +pleased at the sting of royalty, and +many more were amused at the dashing +oddity of the Duchess. But public +opinion, on the whole, blamed the +court. It certainly was infinitely +childish in the King, to have inquired +into what the Duchess was doing +among her acquaintances in the drawing-room; +it was equally beneath the +natural notions of royal dignity that +the King should put himself in a state +of hostility with a subject, and in so +trifling a matter as the subscription to +an unpublished play; and it was +equally impolitic, for the world was +sure to range itself on the side of the +woman, especially when that woman +was handsome, eccentric, and rich. +It produced some inconvenience, however, +to the lady’s husband, as he, in +consequence, gave up the office of +Admiral of Scotland.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The history of the “Beggar’s Opera” +is still one of those mysticisms which +perplex the chroniclers of the stage. +It has been attributed to the joint +conception of Swift, Pope, and Gay. +The original idea probably belonged +to Swift, who, in that fondness for +contrasts, and contempt of romance, +which belonged to him in every thing, +had observed, “What a pretty thing +a Newgate pastoral would make!” +Pope may have given hints for the +epigrammatic pungency of the dialogue; +while the general workmanship +may have been left to Gay. It is +scarcely possible to doubt the sharp +and worldly hand of Swift in some of +the scenes and songs. Pope may have +polished the dialogue, or nerved some +of the songs, otherwise it is difficult +to account for the total failure +of all those characters of sternness, +sharpness, and knowledge of the world, +in Gay’s subsequent and unassisted +drama, “Polly.” For, as the note on the +subject observes, nothing can be more +dull and less sarcastic, or, in fact, less +applicable to either public characters +or public events than the latter opera, +against which a prime minister levelled +the hostilities of the Lord Chamberlain, +and engaged the indignation of the +King.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Gay had been a dependant on Mrs +Howard,—a matter which, in the +scandalous laxity of the time, was by +no means disgraceful. He had been +solicitor for some place under the court, +and had been disappointed. But the +“Beggar’s Opera” had been written +before his disappointment. Of course, +it is unlikely that he should have then +thought of burlesquing the minister. +His disappointment, however, may +have given him new intentions, and +a few touches from Swift’s powerful +hand might have transformed Macheath, +Peachum, and Lockit into the +fac-similes of the premier and his +cabinet. It is remarkable that Gay had +never attempted any thing of the kind +before, nor after. His solitary muse +was the very emblem of feebleness, his +ambition never soared beyond a salary, +and his best authorship was fables.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As ours is the day when rioting is +popular, and rebels in every country +are modellers of government, it may +be amusing to remember how those +matters were managed in the last +century. The history of the famous +Excise scheme, which in its day convulsed +England, and finally shook the +most powerful of all ministers out of +the most powerful of all cabinets, is +amongst the curious anecdotes of a +time full of eccentricity. Walpole +was no more superior to the effects +of prosperity than honester men. +Long success had confirmed him in a +belief of its perpetual power; and the +idea that, with a court wholly at his +disposal, with a Queen for his agent, +a King almost for his subject, the +peerage waiting his nod, and the +commons in his pay, he could be cast +down and shattered like a plaster +image, seems never to have entered +into his dreams. But in this plenitude +of power, whether to exercise his +supremacy, or for the mere want of +something to do, it occurred to him +to relieve the country gentlemen by +reducing the land-tax to a shilling +in the pound, turning the duty on +tobacco and wine, then payable on importation, +into inland duties,—that is, +changing customs on those two commodities +into excise. By which scheme, +and the continuation of the salt-duty, +he proposed to improve the revenue +half a million a-year, so as to supply +the abatement of the shilling in the +pound. The plan seemed feasible, and +it also appeared likely to attract popularity +among the country gentlemen, +who had frequently complained of the +pressure of the land-tax—two shillings +in the pound.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The result, however, showed that +a man may govern a court who +is unequal to govern a people. The +very mention of excise raised a universal +storm,—all kinds of exaggerations +flew through the land. The subject, +at no time popular, was converted +into a source of frantic indignation. +The orators alleged, that if excise was +once to be made a substitute for the +land-tax, it might be made a substitute +for every tax; that if it was laid +on wine and tobacco, it would soon be +laid on corn and clothing; that every +man’s house would be at the mercy of +excise-officers, whose numbers would +amount to a standing army, and of the +most obnoxious kind, an army of tax-gatherers; +that liberty must perish; +Magna Charta be not worth its own +parchment; parliament be voted useless; +and the monarch, who could extract +every shilling from the pockets +of his subjects under the pretext of an +excise, might soon ride roughshod over +the liberties of England. Petition +on petition, of course, showered into +parliament; the boroughs angrily +advised their representatives to vote +against the measure; and the towns +and cities haughtily commanded their +parliamentary delegates to resist all +extension of the excise, however +qualified, corrected, or modelled by +the minister.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Walpole was thunderstruck; but he +still relied upon his fortune. His +friends crowded round him with entreaties +that he would abandon the +measure. But his argument was the +argument of infatuation—the old absurdity +of exposing himself to immediate +ruin, through fear of being ruined +at some future time, which might +never arrive. In fact, his flexibility, +which often saves a minister, was suddenly +exchanged for the stubbornness +which is the ministerial road to ruin. +At last the memorable day came, +March 14, 1743, when the bill was to +be presented to parliament. It was +reported that thousands of the people +would block up the House, and there +was a general order for constables, +peace-officers, and the Guards to be in +readiness. The mob, however, were +neither so numerous nor so unruly as +was expected. The debate was long, +and the question was carried for the +excise scheme by a majority of 61—the +numbers being 204 and 265. The +King was so anxious on the subject, +that he made Lord Hervey write to +him from the House at five o’clock; +and, when the debate broke up at one +in the morning, and Lord Hervey +came to St James’s to mention the +result, the King carried him into the +Queen’s bedchamber, and kept him +there till three in the morning, (without +having dined;) asking him ten thousand +questions, not merely about the +speeches, but the very looks of the +speakers.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The memoirs of persons in high life +have a certain use for those who will +draw the true moral from them; which +is, that the highest rank is by no means +the happiest. The exterior glitters to +the eye, and doubtless there are few +pedestrians who would not rejoice to +drive in a gilt coach, with a squadron +of hussars prancing round them. But +the Memoirs of George II. and his +Queen, altogether independently of +private character, give formidable evidence +of the cares which haunt even +thrones. Yet, perhaps, there was no +more palmy state of public affairs than +that which saw George and Caroline +on the throne. The country was in profound +peace, commerce was flourishing, +there was no impediment to the +wheels of society—neither famine nor +pestilence, nor rebellion; and yet +distress, vexation, and perplexity +seem to be as frequent inmates of the +palace as they could have been of the +workhouse. Even the great minister +himself, though the head and front of +the whole immediate disturbance, and +likely to suffer more severely than all +the rest, bore the crisis with more equanimity +than either of their majesties.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“This evening,” says Lord Hervey, +“Sir Robert Walpole saw the King +in the Queen’s apartment, and the +final resolution was then taken to +drop the bill; but as there was a petition +to come from the city of London +against it the next day, it was +resolved that the bill should not be +dropped till that petition was rejected, +lest it should be thought to be done +by the weight and power of the city.” +Walpole, on coming from this conference, +called on Lord Hervey to let +him know what had passed. Sir +Robert was extremely disconcerted. +Lord Hervey told him that he had +been twice that afternoon sent for by +the King; but, not knowing in what +strain to talk to him, as he was ignorant +whether Sir Robert intended +to go forward or retreat, and expecting +that he should be asked millions +of questions relating to what he saw, +and what he heard, and what he +thought; to avoid the difficulties which +this catechism would lay him under, +he kept out of the way.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the mean time, Sir Robert had +gone to the Queen, and told her, that +the clamour had grown so great, that +there were but two ways of trying to +appease it, one by dropping the project, +and the other by dropping the +projector. The Queen chid him extremely +“for thinking it possible she +could act so cowardly a part.” When +Lord Hervey went up to the drawing-room, +he saw that her Majesty had +been weeping very plentifully, and +found her so little able to disguise +what she felt, that she was forced to +pretend headach and vapours, and +break up her quadrille party sooner +than the usual hour. When the +drawing-room was over, the King +called Lord Hervey into the Queen’s +bedchamber, and began with great +eagerness to ask him where he had +been all day, whom he had seen, what +he had heard, and how both friends +and foes looked? To some of the +replies, referring to the Opposition, +the King said with great warmth, +“It is a lie; those rascals in the +Opposition are the greatest liars that +ever spoke.” The city petition was +presented the next morning, and +attended by a train of coaches reaching +from Temple Bar to Westminster. +The prayer of the petition was, that +they might be heard by counsel +against the bill. After a debate till +midnight the petition was rejected, +but only by a majority of seventeen—214 +to 197. Walpole was never +more deeply smitten than by this +defeat, for so small a majority was +a virtual defeat. He stood for some +time after the House was up, leaning +against the table, with his hat pulled +over his eyes, and some few friends, +with melancholy countenances, round +him. As soon as the whole was over, +Pelham went to the King, and Hervey +to the Queen, to acquaint them with +what had passed. When Hervey, at +his first coming into the room, shook +his head and told her the numbers, +the tears ran down her cheeks, and +for some time she could not utter a +word. At last she said, “It is over—we +must give way; but pray tell me +a little how it passed.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>On the next day, Walpole proposed +the postponement of the tobacco bill +for two months. On coming out of the +House, the mob, who had increased +in numbers, continued to insult the +members. Walpole, though warned +of the reception which he was likely to +get, determined to face the mob, as he +boldly said, “there was no end of flying +from their menaces, and that meeting +dangers of this kind was the only +way to put an end to them.” With +some friends, and to a certain degree +protected by the constables, who made +a passage for the members to go +out, he at last worked his way through +the mob; though there was a great +deal of jostling, and the constables +were obliged to make large use of +their staves. Three of his friends +(among whom was Lord Hervey) +were hurt. The city had been filled +with illuminations and bonfires the +night before, when Sir Robert Walpole, +with a fat woman, (meant for +the Queen,) was burnt in effigy. It +is singular that this triumph was carried +as far as Oxford, where for three +nights together, round the bonfires in +the streets, the healths of Ormond, +Bolingbroke, and James III. were +publicly drunk!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lord Hervey’s sketches of character +are among the best specimens of +his writing, and the most interesting +portions of his book. They are always +acute and forcible, natural though +epigrammatic, and remorseless though +polished. As the lives of Chancellors +have been, of late, so frequently +brought before the public, we give +his sketch of Lord Chancellor King. +Speaking of King as having risen +from obscurity to the woolsack, +without an obstruction in his career, +and with the general approbation +of all judges of legal merit, he +observes that, from the moment of his +presiding in Chancery, his reputation +began to sink. But this is explained, +not by any newly discovered deficiency +of talent, but by deficiency of +decision. “Expedition,” says Lord +Hervey, “was never reckoned +among the merits of the Court of +Chancery; but while Lord King presided +there, its delays became insupportable. +He had such a diffidence of +himself, that he dared not do right for +fear of doing wrong. Decrees were always +extorted from him; and, had he +been left alone, he would never have +given any suitor his due, for fear of giving +him what was not so; never reflecting +that the suspension of justice +was almost as bad as the total privation +of it. His understanding was of that +balancing irregular kind, which gives +people just light enough to see difficulties +and form doubts, yet not +enough to surmount the one, or remove +the other. This sort of understanding, +which was of use to him as +a pleader, was a trouble to him as a +judge, and made him make a great +figure at the bar, but an indifferent +one upon the bench. The Queen once +said of him, very truly, as well as +agreeably, that ‘he was just in +the law, what he had formerly been +in the gospel—making creeds of the +one, without any steady belief, and +judgments in the other, without any +settled opinion. But the misfortune,’ +said she, ‘for the public is, that +though they can reject his silly creeds, +they are forced to submit to his +silly judgments.’” (Lord King had +dabbled in divinity, and published a +history of the Apostles’ Creed.) Complaints +soon arose, that all the equity +of the nation was at a stand. He +afterwards nearly lost his senses by +repeated attacks of apoplexy. He was +at last induced to retire on a pension +of £3000. He died in the next year, +“little regretted by any body, but +least of all by his Majesty, who saved +£3000 a-year by it.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The condition of the court seems to +have been perpetual conflict. The +King’s personal conduct was inexcusable; +the Queen’s great object was +the possession of power; and the +Prince was an object of suspicion to +both, as both were objects of vexation +to the Prince. His case in short +was this: “He had a father that abhorred +him, a mother that despised +him, sisters that betrayed him, a brother +set up against him, and a set of +servants that neglected him, and were +neither of use to him, nor capable of being +of use, nor desirous of being of use.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Opposition were in pretty much +the same condition: they, too, were in a +state of civil war. Lord Carteret and +Bolingbroke had no correspondence at +all; Pulteney and Bolingbroke hated +each other; Carteret and Pulteney +were jealous of each other; Sir +William Wyndham and Pulteney the +same; while Chesterfield had a little +correspondence with them all, but was +confided in by none.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Princess’s marriage to the +Prince of Orange had long engrossed +the consideration of the court. The +Princess was not ill-looking, but her +figure was short, and inclined to be +fat. She seems to have resembled +both the King and the Queen in their +better, and in their worst, qualities. +She was quick, intelligent, and passionate; +yet could be cool, callous, +and ready to sacrifice every thing to +power. The Prince of Orange was +poor, having but £12,000 a-year, and +he was deformed, having a humpback, +and altogether exhibiting the +least attractive object possible in the +eyes of a princess as haughty as any +in Christendom. The marriage was +solemnised at seven in the evening: +the chapel was splendidly fitted up; +but the Queen and the Princesses exhibited +so much undisguised concern, +that the procession to the chapel, and +the aspect of matters there, looked +more like a sacrifice than a marriage. +We cannot go any further into details +which, however suitable to foreign +manners, can only disgust the fortunate +delicacy of the English mind. +But Lord Hervey’s manner of consoling +the philosophic Queen in her disdain +and disgust, is capital, as a specimen +at once of the man of the world +and of the courtier.</p> + +<p class='c008'>His answer was, “Madam, in half +a year all persons are alike; and the +figure one is married to, like the prospect +of the place one lives at, grows +so familiar to one’s eyes, that we look +at it mechanically, without regarding +either the beauties or deformities that +strike a stranger.” The Queen’s answer +was clever: “One may, and I believe +one does, grow blind at last; but you +must allow, my dear Lord Hervey, +that there is a great difference, as long +as one sees, in the <em>manner</em> of one’s +growing blind.” The sisters spoke +much in the same style as the mother, +with horror at his figure, and commiseration +for his wife. The Princess +Emily said, “nothing on earth should +have induced her to marry the monster.” +The Princess Caroline, in her +soft sensible way, spoke truth and said, +“She must own it was very bad, but +that, in her sister’s situation, all things +considered, she believed she should +have come to the same resolution.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>From time to time, some traits of men +and history oddly remind us of foreign +courts in our own day. The Emperor +of Germany, a personage in whom +ambition and imbecility seem to have +contended for the mastery, had commenced +a war, which transferred hostilities +into Italy. France, Sardinia, +and Spain attacked him there, and +pushed his army to the walls of Mantua. +The position of Radetsky, while +he continued constrained by a court +which gave him little more than orders +and counter-orders, was evidently +the <em>fac-simile</em> of Austrian affairs in +1733. “Those affairs,” says Lord +Hervey, “were so <em>well managed</em>, that +with thirteen thousand men in Lombardy, +and provisions for double the +number, and ammunition in proportion, +those essentials of war were so +dispersed and scattered, that, wherever +there were provisions there was +no ammunition, and where there was +ammunition there were no provisions, +and where there were men there was +neither ammunition nor provisions.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The German war engaged a good +deal of the public attention at this +time; but much less in the nation +than at the court. Prince Eugene, +on the Rhine, marched to the relief of +Philipsburg, while Marshal Berwick, +with one hundred thousand men, +carried on the siege. The high reputation +of Prince Eugene had excited +the King’s hope that Philipsburg +would be relieved. It was, however, +taken. This gave rise to a smart +saying of the Princess Royal. She observed +to Lord Hervey, after the drawing-room, +shrugging up her shoulders, +“Was there ever any thing so unaccountable +as the temper of papa! He +has been snapping and snubbing every +mortal for this week, because he +began to think that Philipsburg +would be taken; and this very day, +that he hears it is actually taken, he +is in as good humour as ever I saw +him in my life. But all this seems +so odd, that I am more angry at +his good humour than I was at his +bad.” Lord Hervey said, with that +sort of wit which was fashionable at +the time, “that this was like David, +who, when his child lived wore sackcloth, +but when it was dead, shaved and +drank wine.”—“It may be like +David,” said the Princess, “but I +am sure it is not like Solomon.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The King had a foolish habit of +talking of war, of imagining his +genius made for renown, and of +pronouncing himself infinitely unlucky +in not being permitted by his minister +to gain laurels in Germany. Walpole +exhibited his power in nothing more +effectually than in preventing the +operation of this thirst for “glory.”—“He +could not bear,” said the monarch, +“that while he was engaged only +in treaties, letters, and despatches, his +booby brother, the brutal King of Prussia, +should pass his time in camps and +in the midst of arms,” neither desirous +of the glory, nor fit for the employment.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Walpole, who saw the danger of +involving England in this war, and +probably the absurdity of going to +war for the sake of any foreigners, +reminded the King of the existence of +the Pretender, and of the probability +“that his crown would yet have to be +fought for on British ground.” As to +the Queen, Lord Hervey said, “the +<em>shadow</em> of the Pretender would beat +the whole German body.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>His lordship’s knowledge of the +world appears to have extinguished +all his ideas of its generosity: for he +finds a personal motive in every +thing. Thus, he assigns three reasons +for Walpole’s pacific advice. One +was, to avoid new clamour against his +administration; the next was, to avoid +the unpopularity of new taxes; and +the third was, that military business +might not throw his power into the +hands of military men.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Memoir then proceeds “to toss +and gore” all the prominent public men +in succession. It tells us “that the +Duke of Newcastle, who always +talked as his master talked,” echoed all +the King’s “big words,” and expatiated +for ever on regaining Italy for the +Emperor, chastising Spain, and humbling +the pride of France. Next comes +the Duke of Grafton; of whom it is +said, that loving to make his court as +well as the Duke of Newcastle, he +talked in the same strain, and for the +same reason; but “could never make +any great compliment to the King and +Queen of embracing their opinions, as +he never understood things enough to +have one of his own.” Next comes +Lord Grantham. “He was a degree +still lower, and had the gift of reasoning +in so small a proportion, that his +existence was barely distinguished +from a vegetable.” Then follows +Lord Harrington. Of him it is +said that, “with all his seeming +phlegm, he was as tenacious of an +opinion, when his indolence suffered +him to form one, as any man +living. His parts were of the common +run of mankind. He was well +bred, a man of honour, and fortunate, +loved pleasure, and was infinitely lazy.” +The Queen once in speaking of him +said, “There is a heavy insipid sloth +about that man, that puts me out of +all patience: he must have six hours +to dress, six more to dine, six more +for his intrigues, and six more to sleep; +and there, for a minister, are the four-and-twenty +admirably disposed of; +and if, now and then, he borrows six +of those hours, to do any thing relating +to his office, it is for something that +might be done in six minutes, and +ought to have been done six days +before.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>We have then another instance of +the discomforts of Royalty in those +times. The day before the birthday, +October 29, 1734, the court removed +from Kensington to London, and the +Queen, “who had long been out of order +with a cough and a little lurking fever, +notwithstanding she had been twice +blooded, grew every hour worse and +worse. However, the King forced her, +the night she came from Kensington—the +first of Farinelli’s performances—to +the Opera, and made her the next +day go through all the tiresome ceremonies +of drawing-rooms and balls, the +fatigues of heats and crowds, and +every other disagreeable appurtenance +to the celebration of a birthday.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>His lordship observes that “there +was a strange affectation of an incapacity +of being sick, that ran through +the whole royal family. I have +known the King to get out of his bed, +choking with a sore throat, and in a +high fever, only to dress and have a +levee, and, in five minutes after it, undress +and return to his bed, till the +same ridiculous farce of health was to +be presented the next day at the same +hour. He used to make the Queen, in +like circumstances, commit the same +extravagances; but never with more +danger than at this time. In the +morning drawing-room, she found herself +so near swooning, that she was +forced to send Lord Grantham to the +King, to beg he would retire, for that +she was unable to stand any longer; +notwithstanding which, at night, he +brought her into a still greater crowd +at the ball, and there kept her till +eleven o’clock.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The recollections of those times +constantly bring the name of Lady +Suffolk before the eye. We have no +wish to advert to the grossnesses connected +with the name; but the waning +of her power gave a singular pungency +to opinion in the palace. The Princesses +were peculiarly candid upon +the occasion. The Princess Emily +“wished Lady Suffolk’s disgrace, because +she wished misfortune to most +people. The Princess Caroline, because +she thought it would please her +mother. The Princess Royal was for +having her crushed; and, when Lord +Hervey made some remonstrance, she +replied, that Lady Suffolk’s conduct, +with regard to politics, had been so impertinent, +that she cannot be too ill +used.” It must seem strange to us that +such topics should have been in the lips +of any women, especially women of +such rank—but they seem to have been +discussed with the most perfect familiarity; +and a name and conduct which +ought to have been suppressed through +mere delicacy, appear to have furnished +the principal conversation of +the court.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The next affair was the quarrel +with the Princess of Orange, from her +reluctance to return to Holland. As +she was about to be confined, her +husband was desirous that his child +should be born in Holland. To this +the Princess demurred. However, +they at length contrived to send her +on board, and she sailed from Harwich; +but after she had been some +time at sea, she either grew so ill, or pretended +to be so ill, that she either was, +or pretended to be, in convulsions: we +give his lordship’s rather ungallant +surmise. On this, and the wind not +being quite fair, she obliged the captain +of the yacht to put back to Harwich. +She then despatched a courier +to London with letters, written, as it +was supposed, by her own absolute +command, from her physician, her +accoucheur, and her nurse, to say that +she was disordered with her expedition, +and that she could not be stirred +for ten days from her bed, nor put to +sea again, without the hazard of her +child’s life and her own. The King +and Queen declined giving any orders. +The Prince of Orange was written to, +and he desired that his wife might go +by France to Holland. The King, +hating the bustle of a new parting, +directed that she should cross the +country from Harwich to Dover; but +his Majesty, after having been informed +that the roads were impassable +at this time of the year in a coach, +(how strangely this sounds in our day +of universal locomotion!) permitted +her to come to London and go over +the bridge; but it was a positive command +that she should not lie in in +London, nor even come to St James’s. +Accordingly, “after all her tricks and +schemes, to avoid going to Holland, +and to get back to London, she was +obliged to comply with those orders; +and had the mortification and disgrace +to go, without seeing any of her family, +over London Bridge to Dover.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>A note conjectures, that the Princess +Royal might have had some expectation +of ascending the throne of England, +neither of her brothers being then +married; a circumstance, which may +account for the Princess’s anxiety to +have her child born in this country.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The next scene is laid among the +bishops. The bishopric of Winchester +had been promised to Hoadly. +Willis, the Bishop of Winchester, was +seized with an apoplectic fit, and +Lord Hervey instantly wrote to +Hoadly, who was then Bishop of +Salisbury, to come up to town and +enforce his claim. The bishop wrote +to the Queen and Sir Robert letters, +which were to be delivered as soon +as Willis was dead. The Queen, on +presenting those letters, asked Lord +Hervey if he did not blush for the +conduct of his friend in this early and +pressing application for a thing not +yet vacant. While he was speaking, +the King came in, and both King +and Queen talked of Hoadly, in such +a manner as plainly showed that they +neither esteemed nor loved him. +Potter, Bishop of Oxford, a great +favourite of the Queen, strongly solicited +Winchester, and would have +obtained it, but for Walpole’s suggestion, +that the engagements to +Hoadly could not be broken without +scandal. Hoadly at last obtained +Winchester; and, as the Memoir observes, +one of the best preferments +in the church was conferred upon a +man hated by the King, disliked by +the Queen, and long estranged from +the friendship of Walpole. Then all +followed in the way which might +have been anticipated; the King not +speaking a word to the new bishop, +either when he kissed his hand or +did homage; the Queen, when she +found it could not be helped, making +the most of promoting him,—and Sir +Robert taking the whole merit of the +promotion to himself.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Another source of contention now +arose. The Chancellor Talbot had +recommended Rundle, a chaplain +of his father, the late Bishop of +Durham, for the see of Gloucester, +which had been vacant a twelvemonth. +Gibson, Bishop of London, +objected to him, that fourteen or fifteen +years before he had been heard +to speak disrespectfully of some portions +of Scripture, and Rundle was suspected +of Arianism. This reason was +certainly sufficient to justify inquiry.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir Robert, in his usual style, tried +to mediate; begged of the Chancellor +to give up his support of Rundle, offering +him at the same time a deanery, +or to give him the Bishopric of Derry +in Ireland, then possessed by Henry +Downes; of whom the Memoir speaks +as a crazy old fellow with three thousand +a-year. This affair ended in +Benson’s being made Bishop of +Gloucester, and Secker Bishop of +Bristol, both formerly chaplains to +the Chancellor’s father. Rundle was +subsequently made Bishop of Derry, +where he died, nine years after, in +his sixtieth year, much regretted.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Walpole was now visibly approaching +decline. He had become negligent +of the claims of his friends, and +solicitous only to conciliate his enemies. +Of course, where he bought +over one opponent, there were fifty +others ready to fill up his place. This +policy failed, and ought always to +fail. At the close of the session, say +the Memoirs, “the harvest of court +favour was small, though the labourers +were many.” The only things to +give away were the Privy Seal, by +the retirement of Lord Lonsdale, and +the Secretaryship at War, by the dismissal +of Sir William Strickland, +“who was become so weak in mind +and body, that his head was as much +in its second infancy as his limbs.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>A new source of ministerial vexation +was added to the <em>mêlée</em>, by the +King’s sudden determination to run +over to Hanover, in spite of all remonstrance—the +royal answer being always +“Pooh, stuff! You think to +get the better of me, but you shall +not.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Walpole, who dreaded that the +King, once in Hanover, would plunge +the country into a war, tried to set the +Queen against this untoward journey; +but her Majesty, though she gave the +minister fair words, was in favour of +the freak. The reasons assigned by +the Memoir for her conduct being +those rather irreverent ones, on the +part of his lordship—pride in the +<em>éclat</em> of the regency; the ease of +being mistress of her hours, which +was not the case for two hours together, +when the King was in England; +and, “besides these <em>agrémens</em>, she +had the certainty of being, for six +months at least, not only free from +the fatigue of being obliged to entertain +him for twenty hours in the +twenty-four, but also from the more +irksome office of being set up to receive +the <em>quotidian</em> sallies of a temper +that, let it be charged by what hand +it would, used always to discharge +its hottest fire, on some pretence or +other, upon her.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>But “one trouble arose from the +King’s going to Hanover, which her +Majesty did not at all foresee;” and +which was his becoming, soon after +his arrival, so much attached to a +Madame Walmoden, “a married +woman of the first fashion in Hanover,” +that nobody in England talked +of any thing but the declining power +of the Queen.</p> + +<p class='c008'>They might justly have talked much +more of the insult of this conduct to +public morals; but we shall not +go further into those details. They +absolutely repel the common-sense of +propriety, to a degree which, we hope, +will never be endurable in England. +The King, however, gave her Majesty, +in the long succession of his correspondence, +the complete history of his +passion, its progress, and his final +purchase of the lady for 1000 ducats! +A proof, as Lord Hervey says, more +of his economy than his passion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The life of courts is stripped of its +glitter a good deal by the indefatigable +courtier who has here left us his +reminiscences; but it requires strong +evidence, to believe that the persons +who constitute the officials of royal +households <em>can</em> submit to the humiliations +described in these volumes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Queen narrates a sort of quarrel +which she had with Lady Suffolk, +a woman so notoriously scandalous, +that the wife of George II. ought not +to have suffered her to approach her +person. The quarrel was, as a note +conceives it, not about holding a basin +for the Queen to wash in, but about +holding it on her knees. (What person +of any degree of self-respect can discover +the difference?) But Lady Suffolk, +on this nice distinction, consulted the +well-known Lady Masham, bedchamber +woman to Queen Anne, as to the +point of etiquette. This authority +delivered her judgment of chambermaid +duties, in the following style:—“When +the Queen washed her hands, +a page of the backstairs brought and set +down upon a side-table the basin and +ewer. Then the bedchamber <em>woman</em> +set it before the Queen, and <em>knelt</em> on +the other side of the table over against +the Queen, the bedchamber <em>lady</em> only +looking on. The bedchamber <em>woman</em> +brought in the chocolate, and gave it +<em>kneeling</em>.” Lady Suffolk, formerly +Mrs Howard, had been bedchamber +<em>woman</em>, and of course had performed +this menialism! “We shall see by-and-by,” +adds the note, “that, the +<em>lady</em> of the bedchamber, though a +countess, presented the basin for the +Queen’s washing, <em>on her knees</em>.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>If such things were done, we must +own that it wholly exceeds our comprehension +how they could be exacted +on the one side, or submitted to on +the other. We are sure that there is +not a scullion in England who would +stoop to hold a basin for her mistress’s +ablutions on her knees. Yet, however +we may be surprised at the existence +of such practices, it is impossible +to feel the slightest sympathy for +the persons whom their salaries tempt +to the sufferance.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We have left ourselves but little +room for the biography of Lord Hervey +himself. He was born in 1696, the +second son of the first Lord Bristol. +He travelled; returned to solicit a +commission; failed in his solicitation; +became, of course, “a virtuous opponent +of the court,” and attached himself +to the Prince and Princess, who +held a sort of Opposition court at +Richmond. Hervey, young, handsome, +and polished, became a general +favourite. He won the most accomplished +woman of her time; married; +and, in 1723, became Lord Hervey by +the death of his elder brother, a man +of ability, but of habits remarkably +profligate.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On the death of George I., Hervey +changed his politics; abandoned Pulteney; +leveed Walpole; obtained a +pension of £1000 a-year; received another +gilded fetter, in the office of vice-chamberlain, +and became a courtier +for life.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Whether to console himself for this +showy slavery, or to indulge a natural +taste for the sarcasm which is forbidden +in the atmosphere of high life, +he wrote the Memoirs, of which we +have given a sketch. The prudence +of his son, the third earl, kept them in +secret. The marquis, nephew of that +earl, probably regarding the time as +past when they could provoke private +resentment, has suffered them to +emerge, and Mr Croker has edited +them, for the benefit of the rising +generation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Whether the editor has done credit +to himself or service to the public, +by this employment of his hours of +retirement, has been the subject of +considerable question. That the volumes +are amusing there can be no +doubt; that they are flippant and +frivolous there can be no question +whatever; that they disclose conceptions +of the interior of courts which +may “make the rabble laugh and the +judicious grieve,” that, though filtered +through three generations of correctors, +they yet remain miry enough still, +requires no further proof than their +perusal.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We say this in no favouritism for +either the King or the Queen: the +truth was probably told of both. Their +foreign habits evidently clung to +them; and the purer feelings of +England, as evidently, had not the +power to purify the practices of their +foreign descent. But if Lord Hervey’s +mind was exercised in giving +the secret life of courts to the world, +we think that a much more contemptuous +subject for the pencil might be +found, in the man who, earning his +daily bread by his courtiership, pretended +to independence of opinion; +who, listening to every expression of +royalty with a bow, and receiving +every command with the submission +of a slave, threw off the sycophant +only to assume the satirist, and +revenged his sense of servitude only +by privately registering the errors of +those, the dust of whose shoes he licked +for twelve hours in every twenty-four.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But we must hope that the Memoirs +of Lord Hervey will be the last with +which the national curiosity is to be +stimulated. We must have no further +ill-natured overflowing on the absurdities +of high life. If this fashion +shall invade the shelves and <i><span lang="la">scrinia</span></i> of +noble families, there is probably not +a household of the higher ranks which +may not furnish its tribute. We +shall be overrun with feeble gossiping +and obsolete scandal. No rational +purpose can be held in view by indulging +the posthumous malice of a +discontented slave. No manly curiosity +can be gratified by breaking up +the tomb, showing us only the decay +so long hidden by its marbles and +escutcheons from the eye.—<em>Requiescat.</em></p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span> + <h2 class='c002'>THE GREAT TRAGEDIAN.</h2> +</div> + +<h3 class='c019'>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>Amidst a storm of applause the +curtain fell. The applause continued, +and the curtain rose once more; and +the favourite actor, worn out with +emotion and fatigue, reappeared to +receive the homage which an enthusiastic +multitude paid to his genius.</p> + +<p class='c008'>I saw a proud flush of triumph steal +over his wan face, which lighted it for +a moment with almost supernatural +expression. As he passed behind the +scenes, amidst the rustling dresses of +the rouged and spangled crowd, I +observed his face contracted by a pang, +which struck me the more forcibly +from its so quickly succeeding the +look of triumph. He passed on to his +room without uttering a word—there +to disrobe himself of the kingly garments +in which he had “strutted his +brief hour on the stage;” and in a +little while again passed me (as I +was hammering out compliments, in +voluble but questionable German, to +the pretty little * * *) in his sober-suited +black, and, stepping into his +carriage, drove to the Behren Strasse.</p> + +<p class='c008'>I knew he was going there, as I +had been earnestly pressed to meet +him that very evening; so, collecting +all my forces, I uttered the happiest +thing my German would permit me, +and accompanying it with my most +killing glance, raised the tiny hand of * * * +to my lips and withdrew, perfectly +charmed with her, and perfectly +satisfied with myself.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was a brilliant circle that +night at Madame Röckel’s. To use +the received phrase, “all Berlin was +there.” I found Herr Schoenlein, +the great actor, surrounded by admirers, +more profuse than delicate in +their adulation. He was pale; looked +wearied. He seemed to heed that +admiration so little—and yet, in truth, +he needed it so much! Not a muscle +moved—not a smile answered their +compliments; he received them as if +he had been a statue which a senseless +crowd adored. Yet, fulsome as the +compliments were, they were never +too fulsome for his greed. He had the +fever-thirst of praise upon him now +more than ever—now more than at any +period of his long career, during which +his heart had always throbbed at every +sound of applause, did he crave more +and more applause. That man, seemingly +so indifferent, was sick at heart, +and applause alone could cure him! +Had he not applause enough? Did not +all Germany acknowledge his greatness? +Did not Berlin worship him? +True; but that was not enough: he +hungered for more.</p> + +<p class='c008'>I was taken up to him by Madame +Röckel, and introduced as an “English +admirer.” Now, for the first time, +he manifested some pleasure. It was +not assuredly <em>what</em> I said—(for although, +<em>of course</em>, I am always “mistaken +for a German,” so pure is my +accent, so correct my diction!)—it +was the fact of my being a foreigner—an +Englishman—which made my +praise so acceptable. I was a countryman +of Shakspeare’s, and, of +course, a discerning critic of Shakspearian +acting. We rapidly passed +over the commonplace bridges of +conversation, and were soon engaged +in a discussion respecting the stage.</p> + +<p class='c008'>With nervous energy, and a sort of +feverish irritability, he questioned me +about our great actors—our Young, +Kean, Kemble, and Macready—which +gave me an opportunity for +displaying that nice critical discrimination +which my friends are kind +enough to believe I possess—with +what reason it is not for me to say.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When I told him that, on the whole, +I was more gratified with the performances +of Shakspeare in Germany, +he turned upon me with sudden quickness +and asked—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“In what towns?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“At Berlin and Dresden,” I answered.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You have seen Franz, then?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I have.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>His lip quivered. I saw that I had +made a mistake. I am not generally +an ass—nay, I am believed to possess +some little tact; but what demon +could have possessed me to talk of an +actor <em>to</em> an actor?</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do you think Franz greater than +any of your English actors?” he asked, +fretfully.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Why, I cannot say that exactly. +But I was amazingly struck with his +performance. My observation, however, +principally applied to the general +‘getting-up.’”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But Franz—Franz. I wish to +hear your opinion of him.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“He is young,” I replied; “has +a fine figure, a noble voice, a grand +carriage, and, although new to the +stage, and consequently deficient in +some technical matters, yet he has +that undefinable something which men +call genius.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Hm!” was the significant answer.</p> + +<p class='c008'>I then saw whither my stupidity +had led me. This, however, I will +say for myself, if ever I do get into +a dilemma, I have generally readiness +of mind enough to extricate myself. I +do not say this out of conceit, for I am +not at all conceited—I merely mention +it as a fact. This is how I turned +my blunder to account.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Although,” said I, “he has not +<em>your</em> mastery, yet he reminded me a +great deal of you. I cannot pay <em>him</em> +a higher compliment.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>To my surprise he did not see the +flattery of this, but moved to another +part of the room; and I did not speak +with him again till supper.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This little incident excited my +attention. I puzzled my brain for an +explanation of the riddle which his +conduct presented, and spoke to several +of my friends about it, who could +only tell me that Schoenlein was jealous +of this new actor Franz.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Did you ever sup in Berlin, reader? +If not, let me inform you that supper +there is a most substantial affair. I +had not read Miss Bremer’s novels +when first I went there; so, not being +prepared for the infinite amount of +eating and drinking which is transacted +in the north, I confess my astonishment +was a little mingled with +disgust to find a supper begin with +white-beer soup, (capital soup, by the +way,) followed by various kinds of +fish, amongst them, of course, that +eternal hideous carp—roast veal, +poultry, pastry, and dessert. To see +the worthy Berliners sup, you would +fancy they had not dined, and to see +them dine next day, you would fancy +they had not supped, and breakfasted +<em>twice</em>.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Eating is an art. It is also—and +this fact we are prone to overlook—a +habit. As a habit it may be enlarged +to an indefinite extent; and lisping +<i><span lang="de">fraüleins</span></i> have demonstrated the capacity +of the human stomach to be such +as would make our beauties stare.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It must not be supposed that I am +a coxcomb, since nothing can be farther +from the truth; nor must I be +held to share with Lord Byron his +horror at seeing women eat. In fact +I like to see the darlings enjoy +themselves: but—and I care not who +knows it—to see German women eat, +is more than I can patiently endure.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Let me cease this digression to remark +that, except myself, the great +tragedian was the only person at +table who was not voracious—and that +because he was unhappy. While +knives and forks were playing with +reckless energy he talked to me, but +there was a coldness and constraint in +his manner which plainly told me that +my praises of Franz had deeply mortified +him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Poor Schoenlein! Unhappy he came +to Madame Röckel’s; for, amidst the +storm of applause which saluted him +at the theatre, he heard the applause +which was saluting his rival at Dresden; +and he had left the theatre for a +friendly circle of admirers only to hear +his rival praised by an Englishman. +All the applause of all Berlin weighed +as nothing against one compliment +paid to Franz!</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was nearly twelve, and the company +had gradually departed. I was +left alone with Madame Röckel; and, +as usual, I stayed half-an-hour later +than the others, to have a quiet chat +with her. I wanted to ask her for +an explanation of Schoenlein’s conduct. +Much as I had seen of the +vanity of actors—well as I knew their +petty jealousy of each other—I was +not prepared for what I had seen that +night.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Madame Röckel had resumed her +knitting—the never-failing accompaniment +of a German lady—and I drew +a chair close to the sofa, and told her +what had passed.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“His story is a strange one,” she +said; “and to understand him you +must know it.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Can you not tell it me?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Willingly. Schoenlein is a man +well born and well bred, who feels his +profession is a disgrace.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A disgrace!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Very absurd, is it not? but that +<em>is</em> his feeling. At the same time, just +as the opium-eater, knowing the degradation +of his vice, cannot resist its +fascination—so this actor, with an +intense feeling of what he regards as +the sinfulness of the stage, cannot +resist its fascination.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You astonish me!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“He is an austere man—what you +English would call a puritan—who +looks upon the stage as the theatre +of vice, and yet cannot quit it because +it is the theatre of his triumphs!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But how came he to be an actor!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Why, thrown upon the stage +when the stage seemed the only +means of livelihood open to him—forced +on it by necessity, success has +chained him there. I have heard +him say that every time he performs +it is with the conviction that he is +performing for the last time. But the +fascination still continues—his heart +is still greedy of applause—his mind +still eager for its accustomed emotions. +He goes on the stage sad, +struggling, and repentant; to leave +it with throbbing pulses and a wild-beating +heart. He accepts no engagement, +he only plays by the night. +He has from time to time made +vigorous efforts to quit the stage, +but at the end of a fortnight he invariably +returns. He once set out for +Italy, thinking that if away from +Germany he should be able to wean +himself from the theatre; but he got +no farther than Vienna, and there +played for twenty nights.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But don’t you think there must +be a great deal of humbug in all this?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Not a bit.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do you really believe in his +scruples?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I know him too well to doubt +them. There are many men quite as +inconsistent. He deludes himself +with all sorts of sophistry. He persuades +himself that he acts only to +realise an independence for his son, +and to secure his own old age. But +the truth is, he acts because he has +an irresistible impulse to act. It is +a sort of intellectual dram-drinking +which he cannot forego.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“To be sure, men are strange bundles +of contradictions; and I suppose +one must give Schoenlein credit for +being sincere.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“He is his own dupe, for to no +one but very intimate friends has he +ever disclosed his real opinions.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Then his life must be a constant +struggle?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is. This it is which has made +him prematurely old: the struggle of +his conscience with his passions. But +this it is also which gives such touching +pathos to his acting—which makes +his voice so mournful that it vibrates +through your whole being. As the +poet’s sufferings are sublimed into +song, and become the delight of mankind, +so from the ground of this +tragedian’s despair springs the well +of his inspiration, which makes him +truly great.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>We were both silent for a few moments.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I have said enough,” added Madame +Röckel, “to explain how such +a man must necessarily be, above all +others, envious—how the success of +another must be torture to him. Nothing +but intense vanity could keep +him on the stage. Hitherto he has +really had no rival—he has stood alone; +other tragedians have not been named +beside him. But now, within the last +few weeks, there has arisen this young +Franz, who has only played at Leipsic +and Dresden, yet whose fame has +spread all over Germany.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But I have seen Franz, and I +assure you he is not so great an actor +as Schoenlein. To be sure, he has +youth on his side.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is not his success alone which +is so exasperating; it is because the +critics, as usual, will do nothing but +compare the young Franz with the old +Schoenlein; while the public, with its +natural inconstancy, begins to discover +that Schoenlein is no longer young. +It is a sad thing,” she pursued, with +a faint smile, “for those who have +reigned supreme over audiences to feel +their dynasty is drawing to a close—sad +for those who have swayed all +hearts, to feel that another is now to +usurp their place. We women know +what it is, in a slight degree, when +we grow old. Do we ever grow old, +and <em>know</em> it? When our glass still +tells us we are young, that the bloom +is still upon our cheeks, the lustre in +our eyes, the witchery in our smiles, +now as of yore—and yet what the +glass tells us, what our feelings confirm, +we do <em>not</em> see mirrored in the +admiration of those around us! We +also know what it is when we see our +former adorers pass to newer beauties, +and we perhaps overhear such a phrase +spoken of us as, ‘Yes, she has been +handsome!’ But even we cannot +know the actor’s triumph or the actor’s +humiliation. To feel that our presence +is the signal for applause, that every +word we utter is listened to with +eager interest, that every part we +play is an image which we engrave +upon the minds of thousands, there +to abide as a thing of beauty and of +wonder—this is beyond us.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But, my dear Madame Röckel, I +see no diminution of admiration for +Schoenlein in Berlin. Surely no audience +can be more enthusiastic. Why +should he fear a rival?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You might as well ask a beauty,” +she replied, “why she is jealous of a +woman less pretty than herself. The +<em>why</em> is not to be explained by logic, +for envy does not <em>calculate</em>—it <em>feels</em>.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yet, when Franz comes to Berlin, +which will be next month, there +will then be no possible doubt as to +which is the finer actor.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Perhaps not. But the public will +nevertheless applaud Franz; and however +slightly they do so, to the envious +ears of Schoenlein it will sound like +thunder.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The clock striking twelve warned +me to depart, for in Berlin they keep +early hours; and I went away thinking +of what I had just heard, and +feeling no small contempt for Schoenlein’s +preposterous jealousy: “What +a contemptible feeling is envy!—as if +only one person in the world had a +right to admiration!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>At that moment I stepped into a +droschke, and was driving to my +rooms, when I passed that miserable +puppy Fürstenberg, whom, I am sorry +to say, little * * * admires so much; +though, for the life of me, I never +could see wherefore. Yet this uncouth +German, aping the dandy, +usurps all her conversation, even +when I am by!</p> + +<p class='c008'>It is not that I am jealous, for that +is not my character; but I <em>cannot</em> +bear to see so charming a girl so +miserably deceived in any one as she +is in Fürstenberg!</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>Schoenlein did not play for a fortnight, +and, as the time of Franz’s +engagement was drawing near, I +imagined he was sulking. I communicated +my suspicions to Madame +Röckel.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I would wager fifty thalers,” she +replied, “that he has gone to Dresden +to see his dreaded rival, and judge for +himself.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was as Madame Röckel said: +goaded by irresistible jealousy, Schoenlein +had set off for Dresden to see his +rival play.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Arrived there, he was three days +before he could summon resolution to +enter the theatre. Franz’s name met +him every where. At the <em>table-d’hôte</em> +he heard nothing but praises of Franz: +in the newspapers he read nothing but +invidious comparisons between Franz +and himself, in which the palm was +awarded to his rival. “Franz,” it +was said, “had all the energy of +Schoenlein, with youth, and grace, +and beauty in his favour. The same +power of distinct conception and +unexaggerated execution, without +Schoenlein’s tendency to conventional +‘points.’” Strangers asked him if +he had seen Franz. The very waiters +at the hotel recommended him to +go and see Franz!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Schoenlein never hated his profession +so much as at that moment. +Yet, such was his exasperation, that +he was constantly tempted to appear +on the stage at Dresden, and crush +his rival by acting in the same theatre +with him—constantly tempted to +show the fickle public the genius of +the actor they were fast forgetting.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was the fourth day of his presence +at Dresden. Hamlet was to be +performed that evening, and Schoenlein +had resolved to be there. As +the hour drew near, he was seated at +a table on that beautiful terrace, which +no one who has visited Dresden can +ever forget, and which the Hahn-Hahn +has so graphically set before us +in her <em>Faustine</em>. He was smoking a +meditative cigar, gazing abstractedly +at the promenaders, who, in their gay +dresses, passed to and fro in light happy +talk, while the sounds of a good orchestra +in the Café came mellowed by the +distance, and lent another charm to +the exhilarating scene. His thoughts +were not at all in harmony with that +happy scene—they were fixed mournfully +on his own condition. He felt +the sadness of a fallen favourite.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There he sat, and saw the sun go +down over the antique bridge—saw +its last rays shimmering on the placid +bosom of the Elbe, which winds its +undulating course beneath the terrace—saw +the groups of promenaders gradually +disappear, and the tables all +deserted. The calls for ices, for +cigars, for “light,” were becoming +rarer and rarer. The music had +ceased—night had shut in. Still he +sat there in the same mournful mood, +tempted to go to the theatre, so close +at hand, but repelled by the idea of +hearing Franz applauded.</p> + +<p class='c008'>At the conclusion of the third act, +several playgoers reappeared upon +the terrace, to cool themselves in the +evening air, and to take an ice. Their +conversation, of course, turned but +upon one man, and that man was +Franz. They spoke of his Hamlet +as the finest part he had yet +played.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Three men seated themselves at +Schoenlein’s table. In the midst of +their enthusiastic criticism one of +them remarked—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well, Franz is certainly very +fine; but it is absurd to compare him +with Schoenlein.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I think him better,” said another.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Nonsense!—you would not say +so if you could see them together. +You will find that in a little while the +public will come round to my opinion. +Let them once get over the novelty, +and they will judge correctly.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>A thrill ran through the actor’s +frame as he heard this. He called +the waiter; paid; rose; departed. +In another instant he was in the +<em>parterre</em> of the theatre, feverishly +impatient for the curtain to rise.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The brief scene between the King +and Queen, which opens the fourth +act, seemed to that impatient man as +if it never would end; and when +Rosenkranz was heard within calling, +“Hamlet, Lord Hamlet!” the perspiration +burst from every pore, and +he trembled like a leaf as Hamlet +appeared, uttering the “Soft—what +news? Who calls on Hamlet?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Schoenlein heard no more. The +tones of that voice raised a mist before +his brain—stung and perplexed +him with rage and astonishment. He +heard nothing, saw nothing—his +brain was in a whirl.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Hamlet before him—Franz, +the dreaded rival—was his son!</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>It is necessary here to take a retrospective +glance into Schoenlein’s history, +that we may understand the +horror which possessed him at the +discovery of his son upon the stage.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We may readily conceive how his +dislike to his profession made him +very sedulous of keeping his child +from all contact with it, lest its fascination +should mislead him also. He +had never permitted him to see a play. +He brought him up strictly, religiously, +austerely. He had no friends +among actors: acting was never spoken +of in his presence. Yet, by an +inconsistency easily enough explained, +the works most constantly read and +talked about by him were those of +Shakspeare, Molière, Göthe, and +Schiller. These were his household +gods. Young Franz was early initiated +into their beauties, and would +declaim, (in private,) with great gusto, +all the long speeches.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz was sent to the university of +Leipsic, where it was his father’s +fond hope he would distinguish himself +as a student of theology. For the +first year he was assiduous enough; +but theology grew inexpressibly wearisome, +while poetry became irresistibly +alluring to him. Göthe’s <cite>Wilhelm +Meister</cite> fell into his hands, and +was read with rapture. He fell in +love with the actor’s life, and felt +secret yearnings to quit the university, +and throw himself upon the world in +quest of adventure—especially in quest +of a Marianne, a Philina, and a +Mignon! He had not as yet dared +to disobey his father’s strict commands—he +had never ventured inside +a theatre; but he had imbibed the +dangerous poison—he had learned to +look upon an actor’s life as a life of +poetry. The seed was sown!</p> + +<p class='c008'>About this time my cousin William +went to the Leipsic university, and +became the fellow-student and companion +of Franz. From him I learned +most of these details. William was +by no means a model of select virtue—in +fact, was what, in the jargon of +the day, is called “rather a fast +man;” and he led Franz into many +a debauch which would have driven +Schoenlein wild, had he known it; +but he could not persuade him to go +to the theatre.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz was ready enough at a duel, +and had spoiled the beauty of some +half-dozen faces by the dexterous +sword-cut which draws a line over +the nose, and lays open the cheek. +He was ready enough, too, with his +beer—few youths of his age had more +promising talents that way: and as +to patriotic songs, energetically demanding +of the universe where the +German’s fatherland might be, or the +probability of tyrants long crushing +free hearts beneath their heels, together +with frantic calls upon the +sword, responded to by the clatter of +beer-jugs—in these Franz was distinguished.</p> + +<p class='c008'>At last he did brush away his +scruples, and accompanied William to +the theatre. They played Schiller’s +<cite>Don Carlos</cite>. Conceive his rapture +at this first taste of the long-coveted +forbidden fruit! He thought the +Marquis of Posa a demigod. But +words cannot express his adoration +of the Princess Eboli, that night +played by Madame Clara Kritisch. +She was to him the “vision of loveliness +and light,” which an actress always +is to an impassioned youth, the +first time he sees one. Her large +voluptuous eyes, her open brow, her +delicate nostrils, her full and not ungraceful +figure, together with the +dazzling beauty of her (theatrical) +complexion, made a powerful impression +on him. Her acting seemed to +him the acting of an angel.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He left the theatre madly in love +with her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We all know what it is to be in +love with an actress. We have all of +us, in the halcyon days of boyhood, +offered up the incense of our young +hearts to some painted, plain, conventional, +and perfectly stupid actress, +round whose head we have thrown +the halo and the splendour of our +imaginations. We have had our +Juliets, our Desdemonas, our Imogens, +our Rosalinds, our Violas, our +Cordelias, who, though in the flesh-and-blood +reality they were good, +honest, middle-aged women, mothers +of families or disreputable demireps, +to us were impersonations of the ideal—fairy +visions, to whom we have +written verses, whose portraits have +hung over our beds!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Therefore, having known a touch +of this “exquisite fooling,” we can +sympathise with Franz. Never having +seen an actress before, any hag +painted for the heroine of the night +would have charmed him. But Clara +was by no means a hag: in fact, his +passion was excusable, for on the +stage she was charming.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz went again and again, only +to return home more in love than +before. He fancied she had remarked +him in the pit; he fancied the smile +on her ruddy lips was a smile of encouragement +addressed to him. He +wrote her a burning love-letter, which +she quietly burned. He waited impatiently +for an answer, and went to +the theatre expecting to read it in her +looks. He could read nothing there +but her loveliness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He wrote again; he wrote daily. +He sent her quires of verses, and +reams of “transcripts of his heart,” +in the form of letters. He lived a +blissful life of intense emotion. Fatherland +was forgotten; the sword +was no longer called upon; all tyrants +were merged in the cruel one whom +he adored.</p> + +<p class='c008'>At length he gained admittance behind +the scenes; nay, more—he was +introduced to Clara.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Alas! the shock his sense of loveliness +received, when he beheld before +him the fat, rouged, spangled woman, +whom he had regarded as the incarnation +of beauty! Her complexion—was +this its red and white? were its +roses and lilies gathered by the hare’s +foot and the powder-puff?</p> + +<p class='c008'>He could not speak; the springs of +his eloquence were frozen; the delicate +compliments he had so laboriously +prepared, faded away in an +unmeaning stammer. The first illusion +of his life was gone.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Perhaps there is nothing more +striking to a young man than his first +experience of the stage behind the +scenes. That which, seen from the +boxes, looks health and beauty, behind +the scenes is weariness and paint; +that which in the house is poetic, +behind the scenes is horrible mechanism. +What scene-painting is when +looked at closely, that are actresses +seen in the green-room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz was staggered, but not cured. +He could not divest his heart of her +image, and began to see her again as +he had always seen her. Growing +accustomed to the reality, he again +beheld it in its ideal light; and as on +the stage Clara was always enchanting, +she carried with her some of the enchantment +when she left it. Poor +fellow! how patiently he stood there, +hungering for the merest word—the +simplest look! He saw others—a +privileged few—speaking to her +boldly; jesting with her; admiring +her; giving their opinions respecting +her costume, as if she were an ordinary +woman, while he could only stammer +out some meaningless remark. What +would he have given to feel himself +at ease with her, to be familiar, so +that he might be seen to advantage!</p> + +<p class='c008'>At last he thought of a plan for +making himself better known to her. +He wrote a play, in which the heroine +was destined for her; and as hers was +the only character in the piece which +was effective, she pronounced it the +finest thing which had been written +since Schiller. Franz was in ecstasies. +She read the play herself to the +manager, and exerted all her eloquence +in its behalf. But the manager +saw well enough her motive,—knew +that she was so delighted with the +play merely because her part was the +important one, and declined to produce +it. The play gained its author’s +end however. It had established him +among Clara’s friends. She began to +notice his love for her, began to recognise +its seriousness. She knew +how to distinguish between the real +homage of a heart, and the lip-homage +which others offered her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There is something inexpressibly +charming in knowing yourself possessed +of a heart’s first love; and +women—especially those who have +passed the first flush of youth—are +more gratified by the love of a boy, +than by that of twenty men. A boy’s +love has something in it so intense, +so absorbing, so self-forgetting! It +is love, and love only, unmixed with +any thoughts of responsibilities; +looking forward to no future, reflected +by no past. There is a bloom on first +love. Its very awkwardness is better +than grace; its silence or imperfect +stammerings more eloquent than eloquence; +there is a mute appeal in its +eyes, which is worth all the protestations +in the world.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Clara, who had been accustomed to +the admiration of <em>roués</em>, felt the exquisite +charm of this boy’s love. In +a few weeks he became her acknowledged +lover; and excited no little +envy among the <em>habitués</em> of the theatre, +who could not for the life of them +comprehend “what the devil she could +see in that bumpkin.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>But if boys love intensely, they love +like tyrants, and Clara was made a +slave. Jealous of every one who approached +her, he forced her to give up +all her friends; she gave way to every +caprice; she began to idolise him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This connexion with an actress, as +may easily be foreseen, led to Franz’s +adopting the profession of the stage. +Clara taught him in a few months +that which ordinary actors take years +to acquire; but this was owing to his +hereditary dramatic talent more than +to her instruction. His appearance +on the stage, which would, he knew, +profoundly hurt his father, was not +the mere theatrical ambition which +possesses most young men: it was +stern necessity; it was the only profession +open to him, for he had married +Clara!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Yes! he, the boy of one-and-twenty, +had married a woman of five-and-thirty! +It was a mad act—the recklessness +or delirium of a boy: but it +was an act which has too many +precedents for us to wonder at it. +He had by this act separated himself, +he feared, from his father for +ever. His only hope of pardon was, +as he fondly thought, dramatic success. +Could his father but see him successfully +following in his footsteps, he +would surely forgive him. It was a +proud moment—that boy’s triumphant +debut; proud because he had +succeeded, proud because his pardon +was purchased—as he thought!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz had only played a few weeks, +and Germany was ringing with his +praises. So great was his success, +that when a few critics and actors +whose judgments were all <em>traditional</em>, +objected that he could not be a good +actor because he had not gradually +worked his way upwards, they were +speedily silenced by the incontestible +fact that he <em>was</em> a great actor. A +brilliant engagement had been offered +him at Berlin; and he was about to +appear on the same stage with his +father, before that father had the +faintest suspicion of his son’s ever +having entered a theatre.</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>The curtain fell. Franz had reappeared +to receive the enthusiastic +homage of the audience, and was now +in his room undressing, when the door +opened, and his father stood before +him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Instead of rushing into his arms, +Franz stood confused, blushing, trembling. +The haggard sternness of his +father’s face told but too plainly with +what feelings he was regarded.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was a moment of cruel silence.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The position was humiliating. +With his clothes scattered about the +room; with the paint still unwashed +from his face; with his room in disorder;—swords, +playbills, theatrical +dresses, a wig, a rouge-pot, and +washing-stand, lying about; himself +in the undignified attitude of drawing +on his stockings;—all combined to +present the miserable and prosaic side +of his profession to the angry glance +of an incensed parent.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“So!” said the old man, “these +are your theological studies! This is +the end of all my care! you have disobeyed +me. You have destroyed all +my hopes, and gone upon the stage, +for which you well know my detestation. +I find you <em>thus</em>!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz could make no answer.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“While I fondly believed you +still at the university, pursuing an +honourable career—a career useful to +mankind and honourable to yourself—you +were like a runaway apprentice +taking to this odious life.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But, sir,—I have succeeded!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“So much the worse!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Is not that my excuse?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No; it is your condemnation.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Surely, father, it proves that I +have chosen right. It proves I have +a vocation for the stage?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It only proves your disobedience. +Vocation, indeed! Any man has a +vocation for the stage: any man who +has brains, and is not physically too +weak to utter the thoughts of an +author. Vocation! You might as well +tell me you had a vocation for the +highway—and if you had robbed +a man, by placing a pistol to his +head, and bidding him stand and +deliver, that your success was your +excuse!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Is it not enough,” pursued Schoenlein, +after a pause, “that there should +be <em>one</em> actor in the family: one whose +necessities have driven him on the +stage, and who, once there, is forced +to remain there?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But I, for my part, see nothing +reprehensible in the life of an actor.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I do.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz saw there was no appeal from +such a decision, so he dressed himself +in silence.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He was hurt, angry. He expected +that his father would have been delighted +with his performance, would +have rejoiced in his success. To be +treated like a schoolboy, to hear such +tones and see such looks, irritated +him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Come with me to my hotel,” said +Schoenlein, as Franz completed his +dressing.</p> + +<p class='c008'>They had not taken many steps before +a stout middle-aged woman, enveloped +in a fur cloak, said to Franz:</p> + +<p class='c008'>“<i><span lang="de">Lieber Franz</span></i>, the carriage is waiting.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Schoenlein did not hear the whispered +reply, but strode hastily onwards: +his son followed.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Who was that,” he inquired, as +they came out into the street, “who +called you <i><span lang="de">Lieber Franz</span></i>?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh! that—an actress—one of +our company—Madame Kritisch.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Hm!” growled the old man; but +he did not speak again till they +reached the hotel. Arrived there, they +went up into his room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Franz, my dear boy,” said Schoenlein, +with great tenderness, “you +must promise me to quit this life, and +I will forget that you have ever disobeyed +me. Let us look on it as a +boyish freak, now over.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz was silent.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is your father who speaks. Remember +he is your best friend; and he +earnestly implores you to quit a career +which even success can only make a +gilded disgrace. Will you promise +me this?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>He felt very uncomfortable, and +knew not what answer to make.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You are young,” pursued his +father; “young and hopeful. You +look as yet only to the bright side of +life, and see only the pleasures of the +stage. You think it glorious to be +applauded, to have your name in the +mouths of men, your portrait in shop +windows. In a little while all this +applause will pall upon your ear; all +these portraits will look like so many +signs of your disgrace, and caricatures +of yourself. The charm will pass +away, and you will feel yourself to be +a mountebank, painted to amuse a +gaping crowd! Then the wear and +tear of the profession, its thousand +petty irritations and miserable anxieties, +will be as stings of wretchedness, +and you will curse the day you first +trod upon a stage.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Look at me!” he said, suddenly +pausing in the angry walk which he +was taking up and down the room. +“Have <em>I</em> not been successful? have <em>I</em> +not been flattered, envied? have <em>I</em> +not known what it is to be a great +tragedian, to dictate terms to managers, +to sway audiences? Have <em>I</em> +not known all this? And yet, since you +can remember me, have you ever seen +me happy? Is not my life an example? +Does not my whole life cry out to you, +Beware! Will you not profit by the +bitter lessons of my experience?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But, my dear father, you forget +one thing: you have always looked +upon the profession with disgust. I +do not.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You will learn to do so.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I cannot believe it. You are the +only actor in Germany who thinks so. +Besides, I have, as it seems to me, a +real vocation.—You may sneer, but +a vocation is necessary in this as in +all other professions. It is quite clear +that I have none for theology. I +must get my bread somehow.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Your bread? Franz, listen to me. +So fixed is my opinion, that if you +will obey me, from this time forward +you shall have the whole of my earnings. +I have already saved enough to +satisfy my own humble wants. I will +devote every shilling to furthering and +maintaining you in any profession you +choose to select. You shall not say +that necessity made you—as it has +made <em>me</em>—an actor.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I cannot accept such a sacrifice.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is none. I would sacrifice +every thing rather than see you on the +stage! Besides, in another year or two +you may make a rich marriage. I +have already agreed with our old +friend Schmidt, that you should be +united to his daughter Bertha, and her +dowry will be very large.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>A deep, deep blush overspread +Franz’s face, which was succeeded by +a deathlike paleness, as his father mentioned +marriage.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“How can I ever break my marriage +to him!” was his mental exclamation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Will you promise me?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I cannot. Believe me, it distresses +me thus to disobey you, but I cannot +quit the stage.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I have failed to convince you +then? You misapprehend my motives. +You think, perhaps”—and here an +affected laugh of irony gave tenfold +force to the words—“that I am jealous +of you?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, father!” exclaimed Franz.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But his father’s words and tone had, +as in a flash of light, suddenly revealed +the real feeling in his heart: he +<em>was</em> jealous, and his son perceived it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Do not, however, suppose that the +old man was aware of this feeling; he +would have shuddered at the accusation. +Blinding himself with all sorts +of sophistications, he attributed his +horror at Franz’s adoption of the stage +to his very sincere disgust to that profession; +and because he really did in +his own person feel an actor’s life was +disgraceful, even sinful, he fancied his +objection to Franz’s being an actor +was wholly derived from that feeling. +But in the depths of his heart he was +horribly jealous. He had learned to +hate Franz as a rival, before he knew +him to be his son. Critics had maddened +him by their comparisons. +Franz had been pointed out as the +actor who was to eclipse him. And +now that he found Franz was his son, +instead of rejoicing in his success, instead +of feeling proud that at any rate +his rival was his son, and that the +genius which dethroned him was derived +from himself—instead of the consolation +which another father would +have received, he was assailed by the +bitterest thoughts at the idea of his +son being an actor! He was incensed +at such disobedience, at such +violation of all his wishes; and attributed +to his anger all he really felt of +jealousy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There is something so painful in the +idea of a father being jealous of his +son, that many will be tempted to +pronounce it impossible. Rare it fortunately +is, but not impossible. Who +has not known women jealous of their +daughters: women preserving their +beauty, and followed by homage, till +their girls are old enough to dispute +and bear away the palm from them? +If this is not uncommon—and more +than one instance must occur within +every reader’s experience—what is to +prevent the same principle applying +in a man’s case? You have only to +imagine the vanity pampered by flattery +into an unhealthy condition, and +then bring in a rival—no matter whom—and +the thing is done. Either the +father’s vanity will be caressed by the +reflection of the child’s success, (and +this, happily, is the commoner case,) +or it will be irritated at the child’s interference +with its claims.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In Schoenlein’s case must be added +the strange but intense dislike with +which he regarded the profession of +an actor. Had there been no rivalry +in the case, had Franz been only a +tolerable actor, he would still have +been excessively irritated. But for +his son to be an actor, and for the +public to prefer him as an actor to his +father—this was agonising!</p> + +<p class='c008'>He grew eloquent in his exhortations. +Finding it was in vain to make +Franz share his religious opinions, he +endeavoured to dissuade him by painting +all the dangers of the profession—its +pangs, its weariness, its disappointments—painted +the disagreeable ordeal +he himself had been forced to +undergo; and speaking, as he thought, +to accomplish his son’s welfare, he was +eloquent.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This much is to be said for fathers +who object to their sons following their +own careers: the struggles by which +they have won their way, the sorrows +which have been forced upon them, +the dangers they have escaped—these +are all so vividly present to their +minds, that they believe them inseparable +from the career. Who shall +say that another will escape these +perils? All the delight, all the rapture +of hope and of success are forgotten, or +else weigh but as a feather in the scale +against these perils. A father says:—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is true I escaped; but I was +fortunate. Besides, I had genius,—I +had rectitude,—I had strength of will. +My poor boy, (and fathers are apt to +look with a sort of compassion on their +children: is it because the children +have, from infancy upwards, looked +to them for pity and protection?)—my +poor boy will not be able to buffet +with the world as I did! He will be +led away by temptations; he will +succumb beneath adversity!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>In proportion to the precariousness +of the profession is the reluctance of +the parent. Poets never wish their +sons to be poets; certainly not to +trust to poetry for their livelihood. +Nor do artists desire their sons to be +artists. Actors almost universally +shudder at the idea of their children +becoming actors.</p> + +<p class='c008'>So that Schoenlein’s remonstrances +would have been vehement, even had +he not been tormented with jealousy. +But, from the moment Franz perceived +the real state of his father’s mind, all +compunction vanished. No arguments +could have made him quit the stage; +but now he felt his father’s arguments +to be insults.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I hope you do not misunderstand +me,” said the old man. “You must +know me well enough to believe that +no one would more rejoice in your +success—that to no one should I be so +proud to transmit my laurel crown, +if it were not lined with iron, which +brands the forehead with disgrace. I +am growing old, and am soon about +to leave the stage for ever: to whom +could I so fitly leave the inheritance +of my renown, did I not perceive that +it would entail lasting misery upon +him, as it has entailed it upon me? +No, no, you must relinquish this boyish +notion,—you shall marry Bertha +Schmidt, and quit the stage for ever.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, do not ask it!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I do more than ask it—I command!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do not—dear father—do not force +me to disobey you.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You—you will <em>not</em> leave the +stage?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I—I cannot! It would be hypocrisy +in me to pretend it. I have a +passion for the stage; and whether +that passion lead me to happiness or +to ruin, I <em>must</em> gratify it.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And think you Bertha will marry +an actor?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Perhaps not.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Are you indifferent to that?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Why—the truth is—I cannot +marry her.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You cannot? You shall!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I love another!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You love another!” angrily exclaimed +his father; and then adding, +with a sneer—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Some <em>actress</em>, I presume!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz coloured.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It <em>is</em> so,” said his father. “Old +Clara Kritisch, I shouldn’t wonder!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>A deeper blush overspread Franz’s +face, and a look of anger shot from +his eyes, as his father contemptuously +let fall those words.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz loved his wife; but he knew +the disparity between them. She was +not old to him, for he loved her,—was +happy with her; but although to him +she was as young as a bride, he knew +what others said of her—what others +thought of her. For himself he felt +that</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c021'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Age could not wither, nor custom stale</div> + <div class='line'>Her infinite variety;”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c023'>yet he trembled at his father’s knowing +she was his wife.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Schoenlein, who had observed the +blush on Franz’s countenance, walked +up to him and, placing one hand upon +his shoulder, said—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Franz, Franz, beware! You are +on the edge of an abyss: the worst +temptations of our miserable profession +beset you. Beware of that artful +old woman:—do not frown, she is +artful,—I have heard of her! She +has ruined more young men than +any woman now upon the stage. +She has ensnared you;—do not attempt +to deny it,—I see it in your +countenance. She has flattered and +cajoled you. She has lured you with +languishing looks and sweet low +words. You are already her dupe;—beware +lest you become her victim!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I cannot,” said Franz, rising +wrathfully, “I must not, I will not, +hear this language of her.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You must and shall hear it. Why +should I hesitate to utter the contempt +I feel for that <em>refuse</em> of a hundred +libertines!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz was purple with suppressed +passion, and, with terrible calmness, +said:—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You are speaking, sir, of <span class='fss'>MY +WIFE</span>!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Schoenlein’s lower jaw fell; his +eyes became glazed, and, slowly sinking +on the sofa, he waved his hand +for his son to withdraw.</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER V.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>The following week Schoenlein was +again in Berlin, and playing three +nights a-week—a thing quite unprecedented +with him. All his repertory +was brought forward. A sort of rage +possessed him. He was tormented +with the idea of producing such an +effect upon the public as should perfectly +eclipse his rival and son.</p> + +<p class='c008'>With true actor’s ingenuity in such +matters, he gave the preference to his +son’s favourite parts. He hoped, by +repeatedly performing them ere Franz +arrived, he should weary the public +of those plays, and so prevent large +audiences welcoming the new actor. +He hoped, also, that by this means +the public would better appreciate the +difference between his finished style +and the crude energy of his rival. The +consequence of this procedure he expected +to be,—small audiences and unfavourable +criticisms. By these he +hoped to disgust his son, and so wean +him from the stage.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Unhappily, he was so goaded by the +desire to produce a greater effect than +heretofore, as to act much worse than +heretofore. He overdid every thing. +He was too violent; his contrasts +were too marked; the elaboration was +painful. People lamented his exaggeration, +and began to whisper that his +day was gone.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz appeared. Young, handsome, +ambitious, full of hope and +energy—around him the charm which +always belongs to novelty, and within +him the inappreciable wealth of genius—how +could he fail to produce a deep +impression? The calculation of his +rival turned out a mistake: so far +from the public keeping away because +they had so recently seen the pieces +performed, they flocked to the house +because they wished to compare the +two rivals in the same parts. As in +the case of all well-known plays, the +attraction was in the actor, not in the +piece.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Berlin never witnessed such a debut. +Franz was called sixteen times +before the curtain to receive their +boisterous homage. The whole town +was in a state of excitement. Every +body talked about him; every body +compared him with Schoenlein—to the +general disadvantage of the latter; +and the secret of the relationship soon +transpired, which led to endless discussion. +The actors mostly stood by +Schoenlein: they do not like new favourites. +But the public, undisguisedly, +unequivocally preferred Franz.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Exasperated by what he called the +fickleness of the public, Schoenlein +went to Dresden, there to eclipse the +remembrance of his son. He played +to crowded houses. But if at Berlin +he overacted, at Dresden he “tore +the passion to tatters.” Instead of +crushing Franz’s reputation he nearly +ruined his own. One paper had the +malice to recommend him to retire +from the stage.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He did retire; but not till after a +fearful struggle with himself, and many +a bitter reflection on the world’s ingratitude, +and the worthlessness of +his efforts. He was deeply hurt. He +secluded himself from every one. In +the practices of devotion, and in brooding +solitude, he endeavoured to forget +the world and its frivolities. He tried +to find occupation in study, and solace +in religion. But to the one he did +not bring a studious mind; to the +other he did not bring a religious +heart. Lacerated with envy and humiliation, +his soul found no comfort +in books. He could not forget the +past; he could not shut the world +from his heart. The solemn organ +strains, which stirred his soul when in +church, recalled to him the stage; +still more so did the inflections of the +preacher’s voice recall it to him; he +could not refrain from criticising the +preacher’s declamation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He ceased to go to church, and tried +the efficacy of lonely prayer. In vain! +The stage was for ever present before +his mind. He tried to renounce the +world, but the world held possession +of his heart. His renunciation was not +prompted by weariness, but by rage: +the world weighed not too heavily and +sorely upon his spirit, making him +weary, making him yearn “for the +wings of the dove, to flee away and +be at rest;” on the contrary, he was +only angry at his unjust appreciation. +His retreat was not misanthropy but +sulking. He could not forget his defeat.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Months passed away in this unavailing +struggle.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Suddenly he reappeared upon the +stage. His reappearance created intense +interest, and the theatre trembled +with applause. The public was so +glad to see its old favourite again! +Schoenlein’s heart bounded, as of old, +responsive to that thunder of applause; +but the joy was transient: his pride +was soon once more to be laid low. +That very public, which had welcomed +him so enthusiastically, grew indifferent +by the end of the week. In truth +his acting had lost its former grandeur. +Flashes of the old genius there still +were, from time to time, but they only +served to make more obvious the indifference +of the whole performance. +People shook their heads, and said, +“He was certainly grown too old for +the stage.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>He never reappeared.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Meanwhile Franz continued his +triumphant career. He played at +almost every town in Germany; and +even the old men thought him superior +to the actors of “their day.” +The greatest triumph an actor can +achieve is to make the “laudator +temporis acti” forget for a moment the +illusions of his youth, and confess +that, even seen through the magnifying +mist which envelops and aggrandises +the past, this living actor is as +great as those who are no more.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Franz, amidst his brilliant +success, was far from happy. The +stage was the scene of his triumphs, +but home was the scene of his despair. +He was in a false, a very +false position. Petted and idolised +by the loveliest women in Germany, +he had learned to look upon his wife +as what she was—a woman past +her prime, faded in beauty, insignificant +in mind. He began to blush +for her! This is perhaps the cruellest +torture a husband can know, because +it affects his self-love as keenly as his +love. It is a torture which generally +results from such ill-assorted unions. +Slowly had the conviction dawned +upon him—but it had come. He +struggled against it, but it would not +be set aside; it pressed on and on, +till at last it fairly gained admittance +into his mind, and made him +wretched.</p> + +<p class='c008'>For observe, it was not her faded +beauty which made him blush—it +was not that she was so much older—it +was because this faded insignificant +woman was fretful, jealous, ungenerous, +and unprincipled. The perception +of these faults of disposition +opened his eyes to the perception of +her faults of person; they raised the +question in his mind—<em>who</em> is this +whose jealousy irritates, whose fretfulness +distresses me? He began to +scrutinise her, and the scales fell from +his eyes!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My dear Clara,” he said to her +one day, “what in heaven’s name +has changed you so? You used to +be cheerful—now you are unbearably +peevish.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And what has changed <em>you</em> so, +Franz?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I am not aware of any change!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No!” she said ironically.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“In what, pray?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You used to be fond and attentive, +and now you are cold and neglectful.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If I am so, whose fault is it?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Lieschen Flemming’s. Oh, yes! +pretend astonishment; but I see +clearly enough. Your tenderness <em>on</em> +the stage with her is so well acted, +because you have so often rehearsed +it in private.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Clara! Clara! this jealousy is +insupportable!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, yes—that is the answer I +always receive; but it is no answer +to my accusation.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Why, Lieschen is betrothed to +Fechter!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What matters that? Are <em>you</em> +not married to me—and does that +interfere with your making love to +her?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“This is perfectly ridiculous! Last +week you were jealous of Rosa Behr, +because she played Juliet; now it is +Lieschen Flemming, because she plays +Gretchen. I presume every actress +whom I have to make love to on the +stage will come under your suspicions?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Every one to whom I see you +making evident love. I know I am +old. I have lost the charm I once +had in your eyes.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“This is not the way to regain it,” +he said, as he put on his hat and +angrily left the room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He that day confessed to himself +that she was old, that she had lost +the charm which once had captivated +him! But Franz was a man of honour; +and although he found himself in this +false position, he resolved to support +his lot with courage. He was wedded +to a woman too old for him, +unsuited to him; but the wedding +had been his act and desire. It had +been the crown upon his hopes. He +had loved her—been happy with her. +He could not forget that. And although +divorces are easily obtained +in Germany, he could not bring himself +to abandon her, to separate from +her, now she was past her prime. He +had offered her an independence if +she wished to part from him; but she +did not wish to part—she still clung +to the idea of regaining his lost affection—and +made home miserable as a +means of regaining it!</p> + +<p class='c008'>For five years did Franz drag about +with him this load of wretchedness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>To render his situation still more +pitiable, he became conscious that he +loved another. Madame Röckel’s +youngest daughter—a sweet innocent +girl of eighteen—had conceived a passion +for the young tragedian, which +her artless nature had but ill concealed. +Franz read it in her eyes, in +her tones, in her confusion; and +reading it, he also read in his own +heart that her passion was returned.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He left Berlin in two days after +the discovery, with bitter curses on +his youthful error, which had yoked +him to a woman he could no longer +love, and which had shut him for +ever from the love of another.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then, indeed, the thought of a +divorce rose constantly before him; +but he wrestled with the temptation, +and subdued it. He resolved to bear +his fate. His only hope was that +death might interpose to set him free!</p> + +<h3 class='c022'>CHAPTER VI.</h3> + +<p class='c020'>If in these brief sentences I have +indicated the misery of Franz’s condition—the +depth of the shadows +which accompanied the lustre of his +success—if I have truly presented the +main outlines of his domestic history, +the reader will imagine Franz’s +feelings when a hand as friendly as +that of death did interfere to set him +free.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Clara ran away with the low comedian +of the troop!</p> + +<p class='c008'>She had worn away in tears and +fretfulness all the affection she once +had felt for Franz, and having inspired +a sort of passion in the breast +of this comedian, lent a willing ear to +his romantic proposal of an elopement. +To a woman of her age an +elopement was irresistible!</p> + +<p class='c008'>She fled, and left Franz at liberty.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The very day on which Franz received +this intelligence he had to +perform in Kotzebue’s <cite><span lang="de">Menschenhass +und Reue</span></cite> (our “Stranger.”) He went +to the theatre extremely agitated. +Great as was his delight at being +released from his wife, and released +by no act of his own—he could not +think without a shudder upon the +probable fate which awaited her; and +a remembrance of his former love +and happiness with her returned to +make him sad.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It happened that old Schoenlein +had that night been seized with a +sudden impulse to see his son act, and +had gone privately into the <em>parterre</em>. +It was the first time he saw his son +acting—for on that Dresden night he +<em>saw</em> nothing—a mist was before his +eyes. He was now sufficiently calm +to be critical.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Franz played the wronged husband +with such intense feeling, such depth +of passion, such thrilling intonation +of voice, that the old man shared the +rapture of the audience, and wept +tears of joy and of pride as he confessed +that his son was really a great +actor.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The curtain had no sooner descended +than Schoenlein, hurrying out of the +house, went round to the stage-door, +knocked at his son’s dressing-room, +and in another instant had fallen on +his shoulders, sobbing—“My boy! my +dear, dear Franz! you have conquered +me!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My dear father!” exclaimed +Franz, pressing him convulsively to +his heart.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Franz, I retract all that I have +said. I forgive you. You have a +real vocation for the stage!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>This happy reconciliation was soon +followed by the betrothal of Franz +Schoenlein to Matilda Röckel; and +the old man had not only the delight +of seeing his son wedded to a woman +worthy of him, but also to hear him +announce his intention of retiring for +ever from the stage. He had realised +an independence, and the stage was +connected with too many disagreeable +associations for him not to quit +it on this opening of a new era in his +life.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_359'>359</span> + <h2 class='c002'>THE MOSCOW RETREAT.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>“It is scarcely necessary,” says Mr +Rellstab, in the preface to an early +edition of his romance of “1812,” +“for the author to confess how largely +he has availed himself of Ségur’s +narrative of the Russian campaign. +It will be evident to all readers that +he has followed, at times almost word +for word, the descriptions of that skilful +historian.” Without taxing Mr +Rellstab with exceeding the romance-writer’s +legitimate privilege in thus +largely helping himself from the pages +of General Count Ségur, we may congratulate +him on having had as a +guide, in the historical portions of his +book, so admirable a work as the <cite><span lang="fr">Histoire +de Napoleon et de la Grande +Armée</span></cite>. As interesting as any romance, +it at the same time conveys +the conviction that the author has +determined to merit the character of +historian, and to avoid that of the +retailer of campaigning gossip and +anecdotes. Indeed one often feels disappointed +and almost vexed at the +extreme brevity with which the Count +refers to all matters not strictly essential +to the history of the grand army +and great chief whose history, during +the brief existence of the former and +the first reverses of the latter, he undertakes +to portray. He dismisses in +three lines many an incident of strange +romance or thrilling horror, whose details +one would gladly see extended +over as many pages. Mr Rellstab has +cleverly availed himself of this dignified +and military conciseness, improving +upon hints, and filling up blanks. +With a few bold dashes of his graphic +pen, Count Ségur furnishes the rough +sketch; this his German follower +seizes, adds figures, tints, and names, +and expands it into a picture. The +account in “1812” of the retreat from +Moscow to Wilna is, in fact, a poetical +paraphrase of that given in Ségur’s history; +and this paraphrase Mr Rellstab, +seduced by the excellence of his +text, allows somewhat to impede the +progress of his plot; or rather it protracts +the book after the plot has, in +all essential respects, been wound up. +Nevertheless, as we have already said, +this paraphrase, which may be considered +in some degree supplementary +or parenthetical, is the best part +of the work; and Mr Rellstab displays +great power of pen, and +artistical skill, in his handling and +adaptation of the materials furnished +by his French leader. The last strictly +original chapters of the romance are +those composing the eleventh book, +commencing immediately after Ludwig +is rescued by hostile peasants from +death at the hands of his own friends. +Here for a while we lose sight of the +fugitive army, and abide amongst the +Russians.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The chief ground of apprehension +with the Russian nobles, upon Napoleon’s +invasion of their country, was +lest he should proclaim the emancipation +of the serfs, and thus enlist in his +behalf millions of oppressed peasants. +The plan occurred, and was suggested +to the French Emperor, but various +considerations deterred him from attempting +its realisation. He apprehended +a frightful amount of license +and excess amongst a barbarous people +thus suddenly released from bondage. +Tremendous destruction of property, +and frightful massacres of the higher +classes, were the almost certain results. +He might succeed in raising the storm, +but he could never hope to guide it. +Moreover, although the child of revolution, +his sympathies were not with +the masses. The Russian landholders, +however, did not reckon upon his forbearance, +and took every means in their +power to counteract any propagandist +projects he might have in view. “In +the first place,” says Ségur, “they +worked upon the minds of their unfortunate +serfs, brutalised by every +kind of servitude. Their priests, in +whom they are accustomed to confide, +misled them by deceitful discourse, +persuading these peasants that we +were legions of demons, commanded +by Antichrist,—infernal spirits, whose +aspect excited horror, and whose contact +polluted. Our prisoners perceived +that when they had used a dish +or vessel, their captors would not +touch it again, but kept it for the most +unclean animals. As we advanced +into the country, however, it was +natural that the clumsy fables of the +priests should lose credit with their +dupes. But, on our approach, the +nobles recede with their serfs into the +interior of the land, as from the advance +of some mighty contagion. +Riches, habitations, all that could +delay them or serve us, are sacrificed. +They place hunger, fire, the desert, +between us and them; for it is as much +against their serfs as against Napoleon +that this great resolution is +executed. It is not a mere war of +kings, but a war of classes and of +parties, a religious war, a national +war, every kind of war united in one.” +Stimulated to hatred of the intruding +foreigners by those they most feared +and respected—by their owners, +namely, and their priests—the peasant-slaves +of Russia perpetrated frightful +cruelties upon those unfortunate +Frenchmen who fell into their hands; +cruelties admitted and abundantly +illustrated by Mr Rellstab, although +his predilections are upon the whole +rather Russian than French. It is +only justice to say, however, that in +all the historical portions of his +romance he displays great impartiality, +and puts himself above national antipathies, +taking a cosmopolitan view of +the causes, conduct, and progress of +the great struggle.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Led away by his captors to a +bivouac of armed peasants in the +glades of a vast forest, Ludwig at +first almost regrets having escaped +the volley of the French firing-party. +A colossal Russian stretches out his +hand to appropriate his prisoner’s +foraging-cap, and, upon the imprudent +resistance of the latter, raises a club +to dash out his brains. Ludwig +deems himself no better than a dead +man, when suddenly a woman’s scream +is heard, and a figure clad in costly +furs rescues him from the fierce savage. +A veil is thrown back, and Ludwig +beholds Bianca, who possesses a castle +in the neighbourhood, the same which +the Polish lancers had surprised upon +her wedding-night. It is not quite +clear what has brought her into the +forest among beastly Cossacks and +bloodthirsty peasants, unless it were to +meet Ludwig. The sights she there +meets are not all of the most agreeable +kind. Whilst the enraptured +Ludwig kneels before her, kissing her +hand and weeping, a horseman, whose +noble steed and rich dress bespeaks +the man of rank, dashes into the circle, +and sternly inquires the reason of this +strange scene between the lady and +the captive dragoon. It is Count +Dolgorow, who interrupts Bianca’s +explanation by suddenly springing +from his horse, and seizing the +scoundrel Beaucaire, his former secretary, +whom his quick eye has distinguished +in the group of prisoners. +By a strange fatality, his betrayer +and his rescuer are together delivered +into his hands. He gratifies revenge +before showing gratitude, and has the +traitor precipitated into one of the +huge bivouac fires that blaze around. +Before this we have met with a French +grenadier impaled alive in a wood, and +with a party of Russians setting up +their captives as targets. There is no +scarcity of the horrible in Mr Rellstab’s +pages, but without it the retreat +from Moscow could not be faithfully +described. After Beaucaire has been +roasted, Bianca recovered from her +swoon, and Ludwig presented to the +Count—who admits, but with no very +good grace, his claims to gratitude +and consideration—the other prisoners +are sorted. The able-bodied are sent +to the Count’s hunting-seat, thence to +be forwarded to the mines. To those +unfit to work, Russia, says Dolgorow, +can afford no other nourishment than +two ounces of lead. One man only +is put aside as too old for labour. +This is St Luces, Beaucaire’s employer +and Ludwig’s persecutor.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“St Luces, not having understood +the Count’s words, fancied that, from +his appearance and fine linen, and +from his clothes (of which, however, +he was by this time pretty well +stripped,) his captors had discovered +him to belong to the higher classes. +The pallid horror which had spread +over his features since the terrible +fate of Beaucaire, was replaced by a +faint gleam of hope. He ventured to +address the Count in French.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘I trust, sir,’ he said, ‘I shall be +treated in conformity with those laws +of war which all civilised nations +respect. I am not a military man, +but belong to the civil service; my +rank—’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘You are a Frenchman,’ sternly +interrupted Dolgorow—‘one of those +vampires who have sucked the blood +and marrow out of half the nations of +Europe; more contemptible and odious +than the soldier, for he, at least, fights +with fair and open weapons.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘They would willingly,’ persisted +St Luces, again trembling with apprehension, +‘exchange me against Russian +prisoners!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Prisoners! what prisoners have +you?’ cried Dolgorow with bitter +scorn. ‘Thousands, certainly are set +down in your bulletins, but where can +you show them? You do wrong to +remind me of that. Think you we +know not how your ruthless assassin +bands have treated the few who fell +into their hands? Think you we +have not found them, lying with +shattered skulls upon the roads in +rear of your flying columns? Did we +not meet with them shut up in churches, +barns, and stables, dead in the pangs +of famine? Away with ye! We shall +find enough to exchange, when exchange +we <em>will</em>.’”<a id='r9'></a><a href='#f9' class='c009'><sup>[9]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c008'>Discoveries and surprises now tread +rapidly on each other’s heels. A +German in the service of Count Dolgorow +recognises Ludwig as the son, +and St Luces as the murderer of his +former master; whereupon Ludwig +generously intercedes for the Frenchman’s +life, but is sternly repulsed by +the Count, and St Luces is forthwith +shot. Then, upon their way to +Bianca’s castle, Ludwig and his +mistress stumble upon Bernard, +lying senseless in the road. They +pick him up and take him with them, +in spite of danger from wolves and of +the anger of Countess Dolgorow, impatient +to proceed. At the castle +Bernard and Bianca discover, by the +somewhat hackneyed contrivance of +identical rings, that they are brother +and sister, and soon afterwards the +Count becomes aware of the good +understanding between them, and +that Bianca knows she is not his +daughter. These meetings and recognitions +thwarting certain deep-laid +plans, he resolves to forward Ludwig +and Bernard to Siberia; but before he +can do so, the two young men, with +Bianca and Willhofen the German +servant, make their escape by the aid +of some French prisoners, and take +the road to Smolensko, with the intention +of joining the French army and +seeking refuge in Germany.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Meanwhile Rasinski, with the +shattered remnant of his gallant regiment, +now reduced to a feeble squadron +of sixty horses, forms part of the +rear-guard under the hero Ney. We +will give a specimen of Mr Rellstab’s +adaptation of Ségur.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Rasinski!’ suddenly exclaimed +Jaromir, ‘do you see yonder on the +rising ground?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Cossacks! And I wager my head +they are not alone!’ replied Rasinski.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Upon the heights appeared three +horsemen, seemingly thrown forward +to reconnoitre. They were soon remarked +by all; and there occurred in +the French ranks that restless stir +and low murmur, betokening the expectation +of an important event.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Jump on your horse, Jaromir,’ +said Rasinski, ‘and ride to the corner +of the forest; thence you will see far +over the country.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Jaromir, now the best mounted in +the regiment, sped swiftly across the +snow, in obedience to the order. But +he returned even more rapidly, to +announce that the entire heights +were covered with Cossacks, and that +infantry columns were debouching +from the depths of the forest.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Just then Colonel Regnard, who +by the marshal’s order had also been +out to reconnoitre, rode by. ‘This +looks like work, Rasinski,’ he cried in +passing; ‘the ball opens just like the +day before yesterday. The wood is as +full of Russians as an anthill of ants.’ +The drums beat. The troops stood to +their arms. The disorderly groups of +weaponless stragglers and invalids +formed themselves into a dense mass.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘For us the fight is a pleasure,’ +exclaimed Rasinski; ‘but it is hard +upon Boleslaw and the other wounded. +We must do our best to shield them +from harm. But who comes here?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A Russian officer was seen descending +the hill, waving a white +handkerchief.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Useless trouble, sir,’ said Rasinski +proudly to himself, as he distinguished +the Russian’s object. ‘We +shall not treat for peace so long as we +can handle our arms.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The marshal was busy placing +and ordering his troops. He galloped +through the ranks, showing himself +every where, directing and encouraging +all. Rasinski sent an orderly to +report to him the approach of a flag +of truce. But before the message +reached him, the Russian officer +reached the outposts, and, on distinguishing +the Polish uniform, summoned +them in their own language to +surrender to overpowering forces. +Rasinski sprang forward like an incensed +lion. ‘What!’ he shouted, +‘you would seduce our men, incite +them to desert! That is not the +duty of a flag of truce. You are my +prisoner!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The alarmed officer would have +turned his horse, but Rasinski already +held the bridle, and his soldiers surrounded +the Russian so quickly that +resistance and flight were alike impossible.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘You will surely respect the sacred +rights of a flag of truce!’ cried the +Russian.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘You should have waited at proper +distance, till you knew if it pleased us +to receive you,’ replied Rasinski. ‘It +is against all usage of war to approach +an enemy’s army as you have +done.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Take me to your commander,’ +said the officer, ‘he will listen to my +well-intended offers. The bravest +must yield to impossibility. You have +no alternative but capitulation.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘We shall see that,’ answered +Rasinski, well assured beforehand of +the marshal’s decision. ‘Here comes +our commander, Marshal Ney. That +name may suffice to convince you that +you will waste your words.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The marshal came; Rasinski rode +to meet him and reported what had +passed.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘You have done your duty as an +officer and man of honour,’ replied +Ney; ‘I should take shame to myself +did I hesitate to confirm your +words.’ And he rode forward and +inquired the Russian’s pleasure.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Marshal Kutusow sends me,’ began +the officer. ‘He would not offend +so renowned a warrior and general +by asking him to lay down his arms, +if any alternative remained open. +Upon the surrounding heights stand +eighty thousand men, and one hundred +pieces of cannon. If you doubt +my words, you are at liberty to send +an officer, whom I will conduct +through our ranks that he may count +our strength.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘I hope to get near enough to your +army to count them myself,’ replied +the marshal with flashing eyes. ‘Tell +Prince Kutusow that Marshal Ney has +never yet surrendered, and that the +world’s history shall never record his +having done so. Yonder is the goal +which duty and honour assign me; I +will break a road through your ranks, +though your forests became armies.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘They <em>will</em> do so,’ replied the Russian. +The words had scarce left his +lips, when the thunder of artillery +echoed from the heights in front and +on the left flank, and an iron hail +crashed and rattled upon the icy surface +of the plain.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘This is treachery!’ cried the +marshal sternly, as he looked up and +beheld the hills crowned on all sides +with levelled guns, and dark masses +of troops. ‘There is no parleying +under fire! You are my prisoner!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The officer, confounded at being +thus sacrificed by the imprudence or +recklessness of his friends, gave up +his sword.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Take him to the rear!’ commanded +the marshal. ‘General Ricard, +forward! Attack the enemy +with the bayonet. You shall have +the honour of opening the road.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The general, at the head of fifteen +hundred men, pressed resolutely forward.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Everybody who has read Ségur, and +those who have not had better begin +immediately, knows how these fifteen +hundred men were swept away by Kutusow’s +artillery; how Ney in person +headed the next charge; and how, after +losing more than half his division, he +retreated towards Smolensko, made a +flank movement, again returned southwards, +and at last struck the Dnieper, +and crossed it with the remnant of +his force, without a bridge, and on +blocks of floating ice, to find, upon the +further bank, Platoff and his Cossacks, +with their Scythian tactics and sledge-mounted +artillery, to which he had +no cannon to oppose,—the six guns +wherewith he had audaciously returned +the fire of Kutusow’s tremendous +batteries having been left, of +course, on the north bank of the river. +But, after braving and escaping from +the whole Russian army, Ney was +not to be intimidated by a horde of +ill-disciplined savages; and he forced +his way, fighting incessantly, to the +neighbourhood of Orcha, where Eugene +received him with open arms. +There are only five short days’ +marches from Smolensko to Orcha; +but in that little section of the long +and terrible retreat, Ney, whilst losing +thousands of men daily, gathered +enough laurels to shade the brows of +half a dozen heroes. We do not envy +the feelings of those, be they Russians, +English, or of what country they may, +who can read, without profound emotion +and admiration, the history of +Marshal Ney during the Russian campaign, +and especially during its latter +and most disastrous portion. When +those who previously ranked as the +bravest gave in—when pride and thirst +for glory were obliterated by extremity +of suffering, and by the instinct +of self-preservation—when the soldier’s +most powerful incentives, discipline, +honour, and gain, were forgotten +and lost sight of, and even the +iron veterans of the Old Guard, no +longer sustained by their Emperor’s +presence, renounced the contest and +lay down to die—when his fellow-marshals, +with rare exceptions, showed +weariness and discouragement, and +even the stern Davoust complained +that the limits of human suffering were +exceeded,—where was Ney, what was +his aspect, what his words and actions? +In rear of the army, a musket +in his hand, a smile of confidence on +his lips, the fire of his great soul and +of his own glory flashing from his +eyes, he exposed his life each minute +in the day, as freely as ever he had +done when he had but life to lose, +before his valour had given him riches +and rank, family and fame. Surely, so +long as valour is appreciated, the +name of <span class='sc'>Ney</span> will be borne in +glorious remembrance. And surely +those men who subsequently pronounced +his sentence of death, must +since have sometimes felt remorse at +their share in the untimely fate of so +great a warrior. “I have saved my +eagles!” joyously exclaimed Napoleon, +when he learned, at two leagues from +Orcha, that Ney was safe, although he +brought with him but the ghost of his +fine division. “I would have given +three hundred millions to avoid the +loss of such a man.” Although Napoleon, +in some things the most magnificent +charlatan upon record, dealt +largely in speeches of this sort, we +may believe that in this instance the +cry came from the heart. What would +the Emperor have said, had he then +been told that three years later, on the +7th December 1815, the anniversary +of one of those days when Ney so +bravely breasted the Muscovite torrent, +an execution would take place in +an alley of the Luxemburg gardens, +and that there, by sentence of a French +chamber and the bullets of French +soldiers, a premature end would be put +to the glorious career of him he had +surnamed the Bravest of the Brave!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Previously to the junction of Ney +and Eugene, Colonel Rasinski, whilst +reconnoitring in the gray of the morning, +falls in with a sledge containing +three persons muffled in furs, whom +he at first takes for Russians, but +who prove to be Ludwig and his two +companions. Upon the occasion of +so happy a meeting, M. Rellstab is of +course profuse in tears and embraces; +Jaromir and Boleslaw are summoned +to assist at the jubilee, and thenceforward +the three Poles, the two Germans, +Bianca, her waiting-maid +Jeannette, and the faithful Willhofen, +keep together as far as Wilna, save +and except those amongst them whom +death snatches by the way. The +party is soon increased by an infant, +the daughter of Colonel Regnard, and +of a French actress, of which Bianca +takes charge. Here again the author +of “1812” has made good and effective +use of an incident thus briefly recorded +by Ségur.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“At the gates of the town (Smolensko) +an infamous act struck all +witnesses with a horror that still survives. +A mother abandoned her +son, a child of five years old; in +spite of his cries and tears she repulsed +him from her overloaded sledge, +wildly exclaiming that ‘he had not +seen France! he would not regret +it! But as to her, she knew France! +she must see her country again!’ +Twice did Ney have the poor child +replaced in its mother’s arms, thrice +she threw it upon the frozen snow. +But amongst a thousand instances of +sublime and tender devotedness, this +solitary crime was not left unpunished. +This unnatural parent was herself +abandoned upon the snow, whence +her victim was raised and confided to +another mother. At the Beresina, at +Wilna, and Kowno, the orphan was +seen, and he finally escaped all the +horrors of the retreat.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the romance the child is first +fostered by a wounded veteran, and +a compassionate canteen woman, but +is separated from them when traversing +the Dnieper, and receives the +tenderest care from Bianca. On +the northern bank of the Beresina +we find the principal personages of +the tale assembled, at the moment +when the Russian cannon pour their +murderous contents into the dense +mass of fugitives, and these, crowding +to the bridge, fall by hundreds into the +water. A round-shot suddenly shatters +the front of the vehicle in which +Bianca, her maid, and the child are +seated. The scene that ensues is +spiritedly and naturally told.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The frightened horses reared furiously, +and would have upset the carriage +had not the pole and fore-axle +been in splinters. Willhofen sprang +forward to hold them; Ludwig and +Bernard hurried to his assistance. +With streaming hair, Jeannette had +already leaped from the cart, and +Bianca, unconscious of what she did, +followed her example, still closely +clasping the infant.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Is it alive?’ cried a voice, and at +the same moment she felt herself seized +from behind. She turned, and Regnard +stood before her, his right arm +in a sling: he had just made his way +through the crowd of carts. ‘Oh! I +have you then at last,’ he tenderly +exclaimed, kissing and caressing his +child as she lay in the arms of Bianca, +who, stunned with terror and the +recent shock, scarce thought of wondering +at his unexpected appearance.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘You here, colonel?’ cried Bernard. +‘How and whence came you?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘From the fight up yonder,’ replied +Regnard. ‘’Tis awful work; our +fellows stand like the walls of Troy, +but all must soon be overthrown, +for the Russians bury us under their +bullets.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Did you see Rasinski? Is he +alive? And Boleslaw and Jaromir?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘They fight like lions, like devils, +those Poles; but it’s all in vain, we +cannot hold out another hour. And +this defile over the bridge looks about +as tempting as the jaws of hell.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘You are wounded, colonel?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘My right arm shattered. My horse +was knocked over by a shell; I +dragged myself as far as Studianka +to seek a doctor, and found ashes and +corpses, no longer of use in the fight. +I thought I would have a trial to +cross the bridge. I saw these carriages +from above; I knew you had +driven up here yesterday. If I could +only find you, I thought, and get a +last look at my little daughter! Laugh +at me, if you like, but the thought +came like a whisper from heaven. +‘Perhaps it is the last wish you will +see fulfilled,’ said I to myself. And +as if some invisible guide had led me, +I made my way to your very carriage, +just as the twelve-pounder played you +the trick. Only see now how hearty +the child is; it grows like its mother! +Ah! if I only had something for you, +poor darling! Were we but in Paris, +that I might give you a pocketful of +bonbons!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And in fondling and chattering with +the infant, he forgot both his crushed +arm and the destruction that raged +so actively around. The storm of +shot had no terrors for him; twenty +battles had accustomed him to it. +But the sweet emotions of paternal +love were new to him, and a secret +voice seemed to warn him that he +would not long enjoy them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ludwig now came up and greeted +the colonel. Bianca gave the child +to Jeannette, for Regnard, with only +one arm, could not hold it, and she +felt that her strength was giving way +amidst this complication of horrors. +She leaned against the wheel of the +carriage. Bernard observed her faltering, +and encircling her tenderly +with his arm, he kissed her pale cheek.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘See yonder woman,’ he said; +‘take pattern by her; see, dearest +sister! how calm she is amidst the +ravages of death.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>About twenty paces off, a tall female +figure sat upon a horse, a child +of three years old in her arms, and +gazed steadily at the tumult. A black +veil was twined round her head, but +left her noble and striking countenance +exposed. She could but just have +arrived, otherwise her appearance was +too remarkable not to have attracted +attention, even in that hour of confusion +when few thought of any thing +but their danger.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Calm?’ said Bianca, after a long +look, ‘calm, say you? Petrified, you +<em>should</em> say. See you not the tears +that roll over her rigid countenance, +and the despairing gaze she directs to +heaven? Alas, poor woman!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘She is the widow of Colonel Lavagnac,’ +said Regnard; ‘her husband +fell three weeks ago at Wiazma; the +child in her lap is her daughter.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“All eyes were fixed in pity on the +mourning figure, when a cannon-ball +boomed through the air, and struck +her and her horse to the ground. A +cry of horror escaped the bystanders. +The unhappy woman had disappeared. +One could not see her for the throng. +Bernard, Ludwig, and Regnard forced +a passage through the mob of men and +horses, but with all their efforts their +progress was slow. Bianca followed +them, led partly by pity and partly by +fear of separation from her protectors.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Silent and uncomplaining, the lady +sat upon the ensanguined snow, her +tall, dignified form supported against +an overturned cart, her child clasped +in her arms. The shot had shattered +both her feet, but her infant appeared +unhurt, and anxiously clasped its +mother’s neck with its little hands. +None thought of succouring the poor +creatures; all were too engrossed with +their own selfish misery, and few +vouchsafed her more than a passing +glance as they struggled onwards. +She would hardly have escaped being +trampled under foot, had not her +wounded horse, lashing out convulsively +in the agonies of death, cleared +a space around her. Whilst Bernard +supported his trembling sister, Ludwig +and Regnard attempted to climb over +the cart which intervened between +them and the wounded lady. But at +that moment the noble sufferer took a +strong hair-chain from her neck, twisted +it, before any could stay her hand, +around her infant’s throat, and with a +sudden exertion of strength drew it +tight. The little creature drooped its +head and fell strangled on its mother’s +knees. In a last frantic convulsion, +the unhappy parent clasped her child +to her bosom, gave an agonised sigh, +a glance to heaven, and fell back, +dead. At that moment Ludwig and +Regnard reached her, but it was too +late. Bianca hid her face in her +brother’s bosom.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>A fragment of a shell knocks over +the faithful Willhofen. The fire from +the Russian batteries becomes more +terrible than ever, the crowd more +agitated and frantic.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Let us keep together!’ cried +Regnard—‘once separated, we shall +never meet again.’ And he stretched +out his hand to grasp that of Ludwig, +when a ball passed between them, +overthrowing the colonel.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Regnard!’ cried Ludwig, +springing to his assistance, ‘are you +badly hit?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Bernard raised the wounded man +by the shoulders, and bent over him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘I have got my allowance,’ said +Regnard, faintly. ‘Where is my +little daughter?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Shuddering, but with resolute step, +Bianca came forward, the child in her +arms. She kneeled beside the dying +soldier and held it out to him. Regnard +looked mournfully at the little +creature so soon to be an orphan.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Farewell!’ he said, kissing it +for the last time. ‘You have no +longer a father—but a mother—has +she not?’ added he, imploringly to +Bianca. ‘Greetings to Rasinski, if he +still lives to receive them. Long live +the Emperor!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Upon this last exclamation, +uttered in a hoarse soldier-like tone, +the final breath of the dying man was +expended. The next instant his soul +had fled.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>From the heights of Studianka the +beaten French now pour down, and +Bianca loses her female attendant, +who perishes miserably, crushed by +a gun-carriage. It will be seen that +there is a considerable accumulation +of horrors at this part of the romance; +but tender-hearted persons, whom +narratives of human suffering too +painfully affect, will naturally avoid +a book founded on such a campaign +as that of 1812. The passage of the +Beresina has been too often described +to be worth dwelling upon here; and +the more so as Mr Rellstab very +judiciously has not attempted to alter +or improve upon the reality, of itself +sufficiently extraordinary and harrowing. +He makes Rasinski execute +the famous feat of Jacqueminot, +Oudinot’s aide-de-camp, who, after +swimming the Beresina in spite of the +piercing cold and of the floating blocks +of ice that bruised and cut his horse’s +chest and flanks, galloped after the +stragglers from Tchaplitz’s retreating +column, caught one, disarmed him, +put him before him on his horse and +swam back with him to Napoleon, +who had expressed a wish for a prisoner +from whom to get information.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Hopeless of crossing the crowded +bridge, where a fearful struggle for +precedence now goes on amongst the +mob of desperate fugitives, Bianca +and her two companions take their +course up stream, still bearing with +them Regnard’s orphan daughter, and +hoping to find rest and shelter by +passing themselves off as Russians. +At last, seeing no signs of house or +village, they sit down in despair upon +the snow and await their fate; when, +in accordance with Mr Rellstab’s +practice of bringing about opportune +meetings, Rasinski and his handful of +lancers ride up to them, and after +the due amount of kisses and tears, +a Lithuanian peasant guides them to +a ford, and they get through the river +in safety. At Zembin they procure +a small sledge, and Bernard and +Ludwig urge Bianca to hurry forward +to Wilna. Neither of them offer to +accompany her, which they might +with great propriety have done, seeing +that they are dismounted and useless, +but propose confiding her to a wounded +dragoon, a proposal which she naturally +enough declines, and declares +she will stick to the ship—in other +words to the regiment—and rough it +with the rest. After which plucky +decision there is no more talk of +parting company till they reach Wilna. +Before getting there, however, there +is much to be gone through. For +winter sets in, and the tortures of +cutting cold are added to those previously +endured, slaying the sick and +wounded by hundreds of a night. +Overpowered by the fatigues of the +day, they lie down to sleep beside +their watchfires, and in the morning +are stiff and cold. The north-west +wind suddenly surrounds the +harassed Frenchmen with the terrible +atmosphere of the north pole, the +air is filled with an icy dust, lips and +cheeks crack and blister, the eyes are +inflamed by the glittering whiteness +of the snow. The horses die from +extreme cold, and it is just as well +for their riders, who would otherwise +be frozen in their saddles. Thus +Rasinski and his comrades find themselves +dismounted, and Bianca’s sledge +becomes useless. They pursue their +way on foot, amidst scenes of inconceivable +suffering and woe. Few of +those around them show fortitude in +this extremity of misery. In some +instances despair and madness lead to +violence and shameful excesses. +Bianca, whose courage rises with the +necessity for exertion, is walking supported +by Ludwig’s arm, and Bernard +follows at a short distance, carrying +the infant, who, unconscious of +the danger, smiles cheerily in his face, +when the following incident occurs.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“At this moment a hoarse firm +voice was heard in rear of Bernard.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Stop, dog!’ it exclaimed. +‘Your cloak, or I shoot you dead!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Bernard stopped and looked +round. A soldier, scantily attired in +wretched rags, his features distorted, +his beard long and tangled, his face +black with earth and smoke, his eyes, +frightfully inflamed, rolling wildly in +their orbits, stood before him and +covered him with his musket.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘What would you, wretched +man?’ cried Bernard, horror-struck +and stepping backwards. The child +screamed with terror, clasped its arms +around him, and hid its little head in +his breast.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Your warm cloak, or I shoot you +down!’ shouted the frantic soldier. +‘No more comrades here; I’ve as +good a right to save myself as you.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Bernard saw himself almost alone +with the assassin; although thousands +were within hail, the bullet +would be quicker than their aid, supposing +even that one amongst them +had sufficient pity for another’s peril +to turn aside for a moment, and thus +lengthen his journey and sufferings +by a few painful paces. There was +nothing for it but to yield to the +menace and give up his warm wrapper, +although he well knew that with it he +gave up his life.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘You would murder a comrade to +prolong your own life?’ said Bernard, +in a tone of dignified determination; +‘be it so, but you will profit little by +the deed. Your hour will overtake +you the sooner.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Quick, death gripes me already!’ +cried the madman, his musket still +levelled and his bloodshot eyes wildly +rolling.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Bernard stooped to put down the +child, which impeded him in pulling +off his coat; as he did so, he heard a +loud cry, and turning, he beheld Bianca, +who threw herself weeping at the feet +of the furious soldier.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Take this gold, these jewels!’ +she exclaimed; ‘this warm cloak is +yours, but let my brother live!’ And, +with the quickness of thought, she tore +the rich chain from her neck and the +furs from her shoulders, leaving her +arms and delicate frame exposed with +slight covering to the rigour of that +horrible climate. The soldier gazed +at her for a moment with fixed and +straining eyes, then his arms slowly +sank; letting the musket fall to the +ground, he pressed both hands to his +face, and broke out in loud weeping +and whimpering. By this time Ludwig +came up, and he and Bernard lifted +up Bianca, who was still kneeling on +the frozen ground, and extending her +arms with the proffered gifts.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Wild beast that I am!’ suddenly +exclaimed the stranger; ‘no, I cannot +survive this shame. Forgive me; you +knew me once a better man, before +suffering drove me mad! But no +matter; I know my duty.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“He stooped to pick up his musket. +Bernard kept his eyes fixed upon him, +and racked his memory for the features, +which, wild and distorted though they +now were, still seemed familiar to him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Where have I known you?’ he +asked, as the man resumed his erect +position.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘I don’t wonder you’ve forgotten +me,’ was the gloomy reply; ‘I have +forgotten myself. Alive, I am no +longer worthy of the Order!’ cried he +wildly, tearing from his rags the +ribbon of the Legion of Honour and +throwing it upon the snow. ‘I will +try to earn it again, that you may lay +it upon my body. I am my own judge, +and I show no favour.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Setting the butt of his musket +firmly on the earth, he pressed his +breast against the muzzle and touched +the trigger with his foot. The piece +went off, and its unfortunate owner +fell heavily to the ground.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Gracious God!’ exclaimed Bianca, +sinking senseless into Ludwig’s arms.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Bernard was at the side of the +fallen man, supporting his head. A +last spark of life still remained. ‘If +you get to France,’ gasped the suicide, +‘a word to my wife and children—Sergeant +Ferrand—of Laon,’ and the +spirit departed. As he closed his +eyes, Bernard remembered him. It +was the same Sergeant Ferrand whose +humanity saved him and Ludwig from +perishing during their imprisonment +at Smolensko. Military honour was +the condition of the veteran’s existence; +he thought himself degraded +beyond redemption by the murderous +aggression to which misery, pain, and +despair, had driven him; a woman +had surpassed him in courage, and +that was more than he could bear. +A rigorous judge, he had pronounced +his own doom, and executed it with +his own hand.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Deeply moved, Bernard knelt +beside the body; he gathered up the +scrap of tarnished ribbon which the +departed soldier had prized above all +earthly goods, and laid it upon the +breast of the corpse.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Who shall deprive you of it?’ +he said. ‘May it adorn you beyond +the grave, amidst the throng of the +valiant who have preceded you!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And they continued their journey, +for the times admitted not of delay.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>That night they have to fight for +their quarters in the village of Malodeczno, +and use their artillery for the +last time, being compelled to abandon +it for the want of horses. Boleslaw +is killed in the action. Soon afterwards, +the Emperor leaves the army, +and his departure dispirits even those +who admit its propriety. Things get +worse and worse. Often, after a +fatiguing day’s march, no shelter is +obtainable, and Bianca and her tender +charge are fain to brave the inclemency +of the bivouac, whilst the men +watch by turns to keep off wolves and +marauders. One night, when performing +this duty, Jaromir is startled +by a loud laugh, sounding strangely +horrible in that scene of misery and +desolation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“From out of the surrounding +darkness a grim figure stalked into +the circle of fire-light. It was a gigantic +cuirassier, wrapped in a tattered +cloak, a bloody cloth bound +round his head beneath his helmet. +In his hand he carried a young fir +tree, as a staff to support his steps.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Good evening,’ he said, in a hollow +voice to Jaromir. ‘Good evening, +comrade. You seem merry here.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘What seek you?’ demanded +Jaromir, amazed at this hideous apparition! +‘There is no place for you +here. Begone!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The cuirassier stared at him with +his hollow eyes, twisted his mouth +into a frightful grin, and gnashed +his teeth like some infuriated +beast.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Ha, ha, ha!’ he laughed, or +rather yelled; ‘Sleep you then so +sound, ye idlers?’ And as he spoke +he stamped with his foot on a frozen +corpse upon which he stood. ‘Awake, +awake!’ he cried, ‘and come with +me!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“For a moment he stood as if listening +to some distant sound, then +tottered painfully forward to the +fire.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Back!’ cried Jaromir, ‘Back, +or I shoot you on the spot!’ And he +drew a pistol; but his hand, trembling +with fever, had not strength to level +it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The lunatic stared at him with +stupified indifference, his sunken features +varying in their expression from +a ghastly smile to the deepest misery. +Jaromir gazed at him in silent horror. +The huge figure stretched its lean arms +out from under the cloak, and made +strange and unintelligible gestures.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Ho! I am frozen!’ howled the +human spectre at last, and shook himself. +Then he clutched at the flames +with his fingers, like an infant, and +staggered nearer and nearer till +he stood close to the circle of sleepers, +far within which he extended his +arms. For the first time he now +seemed to feel the warmth of the fire. +A low whining noise escaped him, +then he suddenly exclaimed, in tones +between laughing and crying, ‘To +bed! to my warm bed!’ tossed his +fir-tree staff far from him, stumbled +forwards over the sleeping soldiers, and +threw himself, in his raging madness, +into the centre of the glowing pile.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Help, help!’ cried Jaromir, his +hair erect with horror, and seizing +Rasinski, he shook him with all his +remaining strength.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘What is it?’ cried Rasinski, +raising himself.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘There, there!’ stammered his +friend, pointing to the flames, in which +the unhappy cuirassier lay writhing +and bellowing with agony. Rather +conjecturing than comprehending what +had occurred, Rasinski started up to +rescue the sufferer. But it was too +late. The heat had already stifled +him; he lay motionless, the flame +licking greedily round his limbs, and +a thick nauseous smoke ascending in +clouds from his funeral faggots. +Rasinski stepped shudderingly backward, +and turned away his face to +conceal his emotion; then he observed +that all around him lay buried in a +deathlike sleep. Not one had been +aroused by the terrible catastrophe +that had occurred in the midst of so +many living men.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>After those long days of hunger and +fatigue, the bonds of slumber were of +iron strength, and difficult to loosen. +And it was even more dangerous than +difficult to rob the survivors of the +Grand Army of that brief repose, +often their sole solace and refreshment +during the twenty-four hours. In his +turn overtaken by delirium, Jaromir’s +cries and complaints at last awoke the +whole party round the fire. A low +murmur arose amongst the soldiers, +and rapidly increased. Soon they +cast ominous and threatening glances +at the young Pole, and at last their +discontent found a voice.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Who is the madman, and what +ails him?’ savagely exclaimed a +bearded grenadier. ‘He robs us of +our precious sleep! Thrust him from +the fire—let him freeze if he cannot +be still!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Ay, thrust him out!’ was the +universal cry; and several sprang to +accomplish the barbarous deed. +Bianca uttered a cry of terror; Ludwig +caught her in his right arm, and +with his left kept off the assailants. +Rasinski, who at once saw the greatness +of the peril, left Jaromir in Bernard’s +care, and leaped with flashing +eyes into the midst of the circle. +Ever prompt and decided, he snatched +a half consumed branch from the fire, +waved it above his head, and shouted +with that lion’s voice so often heard +above the thunder of the battle, +‘Back, knaves! The first step forward +costs one of you his life.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The angry soldiers hesitated and +hung back, yielding to Rasinski’s moral +ascendency as much as to his threat +of punishment. But then the grenadier +drew his sabre and furiously +exclaimed:—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘What, dastards, are ye all afraid +of one man? Forward! Down with +the Polish dogs!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Down thyself, inhuman ruffian!’ +thundered Rasinski, and sprang to +meet his foe. Adroitly seizing the +soldier by the wrist of his uplifted arm, +so that he could not use his weapon, +he struck him over the head with the +burning branch so violently, that the +charred wood shivered, and a cloud of +sparks flew out. But the blow, heavy +as it was, was deadened by the thick +bearskin cap, and served only to convert +the angry determination of the +grenadier into foaming fury. Of +herculean build, and at least half the +head taller than his opponent, he let +his sabre fall, and grappled Rasinski +with the intention of throwing him +into the flames. The struggle lasted +but for a moment before Rasinski +tottered and fell upon his knees. To +all appearance his doom was sealed, +the hero succumbed before the overpowering +strength of the brute, when +Ludwig flew to his assistance, dragged +the soldier backwards, and fell with +him to the ground. Rasinski picked +up the sabre, with his left hand dashed +the bearskin from the head of the +fallen grenadier, and with the right +dealt him a blow that clove his skull +in twain. Then, erecting his princely +form, he advanced, with the calm +dignity that characterised him, into +the midst of the astounded bystanders. +‘Throw the corpse into the snow,’ +commanded he: ‘lie down again and +sleep. It matters no more than if I +knocked a wolf upon the head.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“As if he had no longer occasion for +it, he threw the sabre contemptuously +from him. None dared to +murmur, but two soldiers obediently +raised the bloody corpse of the fallen +man, carried it a few paces, and +threw it upon the snow-covered +ground.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The following evening the little +band of friends reached Wilna, but +without Jaromir, who had expired on +the road. Wilna, the first inhabited +town the French army had seen since +their entrance into Russia, had been +looked forward to by the fugitives +who escaped from the terrible passage +of the Beresina, as a refuge and a +resting-place. There they fondly expected +shelter from the cold, food for +the famishing, bandages and medicine +for the wounded and the sick. But +their arrival took the Lithuanian +capital by surprise. The inhabitants +were still without any certain accounts +of the disasters of the French, when +suddenly they beheld their streets +invaded by forty thousand ragged +wretches, in whom it was impossible +to recognise the remains of those +magnificent troops which had passed +through with Napoleon in the previous +month of July. The very impatience +of the men to get into the comfortable +quarters they had promised themselves +(but which few of them found, +for the inhabitants shut their doors, +and the commissaries, although their +stores were crammed with bread and +meat, refused to serve out those much +needed provisions without a host of +formalities rendered impossible by the +general disorganisation) was the destruction +of thousands. They all +rushed in at one entrance,—the narrow +suburb became blocked up with men, +horses, and vehicles, and numbers +perished of cold and of suffocation. +When the survivors got through, their +despair was terrible on finding themselves +every where repulsed, from +hospital and barracks, from the provision-store +and the private dwelling. +The hospitals and barracks, where +there were neither beds or straw, +were converted into charnel-houses, +heaped with human bodies. “At +last,” says Ségur, “the exertions of +certain chiefs, such as Eugene and +Davoust, the pity of the Lithuanians +and the avarice of the Jews, opened +places of refuge. Then it was strange +to behold the astonishment of these +unfortunates on finding themselves at +last in inhabited houses. What delicious +food a loaf of bread appeared, +what inexpressible pleasure did they +find in eating it seated, and with what +admiration were they struck by the +sight of a single weak battalion, still +armed and uniformly clothed. They +seemed to return from the extremity +of the world, so completely had the +violence and duration of their sufferings +detached them from all their +former habits.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Bianca, her brother and friends, +skirt the town to avoid the throng, +and get in by an unencumbered entrance. +In the streets, however, Rasinski +is separated from his three +companions, who find shelter in the +house of a former servant of Bianca, +and there meet with Ludwig’s sister +Marie, and the Countess Micielska, a +widowed sister of Rasinski, whom we +have not had occasion previously to +mention, although she is a fine enthusiastic +character, and plays no unimportant +part in the earlier scenes of +the book. On learning, by letters +from their brothers, the burning of +Moscow and probability of retreat, +the two ladies braved the severity of +a Lithuanian winter, and left Warsaw +for Wilna, where their arrival coincides +with that of Napoleon’s disordered +cohorts. Their joy at meeting Ludwig +and Bernard is greatly overcast by the +loss of Jaromir and Boleslaw, and +by the absence of Rasinski, whom +the two young Germans vainly seek +in the crowded town, until at last, +overcome with weariness, they retire +to rest, dissembling, for his sister’s +sake, their uneasiness touching his +fate. Scarcely in bed, however, they +are aroused by Paul, their host, who +calls their attention to groans and +lamentations in the street without. +Arming themselves, they hurry forth +to investigate the cause.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Paul, bearing a lantern, preceded +them to the spot whence the piteous +sounds proceeded. It was a narrow +lane, running parallel to the city wall, +and inhabited entirely by Jews. Just +as they turned into it they were challenged +by a manly and well-known +voice in their rear. ‘Who goes there? +What is this disturbance?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Rasinski!’ exclaimed Ludwig. +Paul turned, and, as the light fell +upon the face of the new comer, the +features of the noble Pole were revealed +to his friends.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Rasinski! you here, and alive!’ +cried Ludwig, throwing himself into +the Count’s arms.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Here follows, of course, <em>more Rellstab</em>, +half a page of tender embraces +and gratulations. Then, the groans +and lamentations continuing, the +friends again move forward.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The lane was narrow and crooked, +so that they could not see far before +them. On passing an abrupt bend, +they distinguished several figures, +which fled noiselessly before them, +like night-birds frightened by the +sudden light, keeping close in the +shadow of the wall.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Who goes there?’ cried Rasinski +in Russian. ‘Stand, or I fire!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But the shadows flew onwards, +grazing the wall, and gliding over the +snow. Rasinski rushed after them, +stumbled over an object in his path, +fell, and, in his fall, his pistol went +off. Ludwig and Bernard, close at +his heels, would have stopped to help +him up—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Forward, forward!’ he cried: +‘follow and catch them.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“They hurried on, but only one +figure was now visible. They called +to him to stop; he heeded them not. +A shot fired by Bernard missed its +mark, but the whistle of the bullet +discomposed the fugitive, who, in +stooping his head, slipped and fell. +Ludwig was upon him in an instant, +inquiring who he was, and why he +fled. The stranger, who wore a sort +of long black caftan, replied in piteous +and terrified tones.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘God of my fathers!’ he cried: +‘have compassion, gracious sir! Why +persecute the poor Jew, who does +harm to no one?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Paul, a light!’ cried Bernard, +who just then came up. ‘Let us see +who it is that is in such haste to +crave mercy. His conscience seems +none of the best.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Paul lifted the lantern, casting +the light full on the Jew’s visage.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘The devil!’ cried Bernard. ‘I +should know that face. Where have +I seen the accursed mask? To be +sure, those red-bearded Lithuanians +are all as like each other as bullets. +But I greatly err, Jew, or you are the +spy with whom we have an account +to settle, that has stood over for the +last five months.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A shout from Rasinski interrupted +the speaker.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Hither, friends!’ he cried; ‘your +help here!’ The three hastily obeyed +the summons, dragging the Jew with +them in spite of his struggles and +cries.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Here has been the most villanous +crime the world ever witnessed!’ exclaimed +Rasinski, pale with horror +and indignation, as his friends joined +him. ‘Behold our comrades, driven +out naked in this deadly cold, plundered, +strangled, hurled from the +windows! Inhuman monster!’ he +cried in a terrible voice to the trembling +Jew, ‘if you have shared in this +work, I will have you torn by dogs. +See! here they lie. Horrible, horrible!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“In a nook formed by the recession +of a house from the line of street, +lay eight human bodies, half naked, +some with only a shirt or a few +miserable rags to cover them. Over +one of these unfortunates, who was +still alive, Rasinski had thrown his +furred cloak, to protect him from the +piercing cold. Ludwig and Bernard +shuddered at this lamentable spectacle.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘God of Abraham!’ cried the +Jew, ‘to thee I lift up my right hand, +and swear that I am innocent of this +deed. May I be accursed with my +children and my grandchildren if I +know aught of it! May the ravens +pick out my eyes, and the flesh of my +hand wither, if I speak not the truth.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘He was amongst the murderers,’ +the wounded man faintly gasped out: +‘he was about to cut my throat, when +the fall from the window did not kill +me, and because I called for help. +Only your arrival saved me.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘Fiend, inhuman fiend! the unspeakable +misery that might draw +tears from a demon could not touch +you.’ Thus spoke Rasinski between +his set teeth, and raised his sabre to +split the skull of the Jew. In convulsions +of terror the miserable wretch +embraced his knees, and prayed for +pity.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘God—Jehovah—mercy, noble +Count, mercy!’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ludwig held back Rasinski’s arm. +‘Sully not your good blade with the +monster’s blood,’ he said, earnestly +and solemnly. ‘Leave him to the +justice of an omnipotent Avenger.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘You are right,’ replied Rasinski, +quickly resuming his habitual composure. +‘Think you I have forgotten?’ +said he, with an expression of the +deepest loathing, to the Jew, who still +clasped his feet in agony of fear. ‘I +know you well for the base and double +traitor who once already escaped +well-merited death. Nothing could +save you now, were it not that even +a villain like yourself may be made +useful. Begone, and warn your fellow-assassins, +that if to-morrow I find a +single dead body, a single mark of +violence in one of their houses, I lay +the whole quarter in ashes,—men, +women, and habitations; and I myself +will be the first to hurl the sucking-babe +into the devouring flames! Away, +dog! Yet will I mark thee, that thou +mayest not escape.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And raising his foot, he stamped +thrice upon the face of the prostrate +Jew, who bellowed like a wild beast, +whilst his blood reddened the snow. +Nevertheless, the murderer managed +to scramble to his feet, and reach an +adjacent house door, where he stood +knocking and calling upon his fellow +Israelites for help and compassion.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Count Ségur tells us, that the Jews +enticed the unfortunate wounded into +their houses to despoil them, and afterwards, +in sight of the Russians, threw +them, naked and dying, out of the +doors and windows, leaving them to +perish of cold.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We approach the final chapters of +Mr Rellstab’s romance. Bianca, whose +quality of a Russian noble suffices to +protect her and her attendants, remains +with Ludwig, Marie, and her +brother at Wilna, after the French +leave it. They then post to Germany +without further adventure. Their last +sight of Rasinski is when, mounted on +a Cossack horse, by the side of Marshal +Ney, he heads a scanty but determined +band, covering the retreat of +the French. He subsequently falls at +Leipzig, fighting with his wonted gallantry +under the orders of his countryman +Poniatowski.</p> + +<p class='c008'>From the glimpses of the plot and +numerous extracts we have given, the +reader will have small difficulty in +forming his own estimate of the faults +and merits of “1812.” We have already +commented upon both: upon +the spirit and power often conspicuous +in the dialogue and description, as +well as upon the excess of forced coincidences, +and upon the occasional +long-windedness and super-sentimentality. +However the interest may +here and there, by reason of prolixity, +be found to flag, the book, when once +begun, is not likely to be laid aside +unfinished. This alone is saying much +for a historical romance in four very +long volumes. There are not many +German writers, in that style, of whose +works we would venture the like prediction. +And just at present Mr Rellstab +need not apprehend fresh rivals. +The year 1848 is unfavourable to German +literature. The country is far +too busy revolutionising to care about +belles-lettres. Fictions are ousted by +realities, novels by newspapers, trim +octavos by uncouth twopenny pamphlets, +polemical and satirical, attacking +and defending, supporting +and tearing to pieces, the numerous +schemes afoot for the regeneration of +Fatherland. In due time it will be +seen whether the literature of the +country is to share the general improvement +so sanguinely anticipated +from the recent changes in a system, +under which Germany undeniably has +long enjoyed a very large share of +tranquillity and happiness.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_373'>373</span> + <h2 class='c002'>WHAT WOULD REVOLUTIONISING GERMANY BE AT?</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Many a confirmed wanderer upon +Continental highways and byways may +have been long since wearied by the +conceitedly-vulgar airs in which old +Father Rhine has indulged himself in +latter years, and heartily tired of his +bald vineyards, his melodramatic old +ruins, and the make-believe majesty +of his so-called mountains. But still +there remained a sort of spurious halo +about his very name; some kindly +reminiscence of the time when, as an +enthusiastic youth just escaped from +the supposed commonplace of England, +one gazed for the first time upon +this famed show-stream of the Continent, +and wondered, and admired, +and poetised in spite of one’s-self, +may have cast a charm of early memory +upon its overrated allurements; +and, of a surety, there must have been +brought a comfortable glow of pleasure +to the heart of any one, except that +nearly-exploded animal, the exclusive +exquisite, either male or female, in +witnessing the happy gaping faces of +the touristic hordes, who paddled up +and down the well-known old banks—a +feeling of ease, comfort, and even +homeishness, in the modern luxuries +of the hundred palace-hotels of the +Rhenish towns and villages, in the +contented aspect of the thriving landlord, +welcoming the guests who +brought him wealth, and in the ready +alertness of the active and obsequious +waiters. Well, Germany has taken +into its head to follow in the lead +which distracted France gave, when +it madly beckoned with frantic finger +to all the Continent to follow in its +wild dance. Germany has caught the +St Vitus of revolution, and danced off, +if not as distractedly, at all events in +less connected step, and less defined +figure, than its neighbour: and in +this revolutionary frenzy Germany +has assumed so ungenial an aspect—a +manner so doubtful, so unpromising, +so uncertain, as regards the next step +it may be inclined to take in the jerkings +of its abrupt and unregulated +dance—that the gentle tourist-seekers +of ease and pleasure have turned away +in disgust from this heavy Meg Merrilees, +who has forgotten even her +scraps of song, and her long-pretended +spirit of romance, and declined to +visit her until she shall have somewhat +recovered from her drunken fit +of revolution, and become more decently +behaved. The Rhine, then, +has lost the last charm of foreign +bustle and movement, with which he +decked his old head, as with a crown +of wild flowers, not unbecoming his +gray hairs. He looks sad, sober, discontented, +disappointed, mourning his +lost old joys, and his lost glories, of +which young Germany, in its revolutionary +excitement, has despoiled +him. His hotels are empty; landlords, +too, have a forlorn air, and +take to rattling their last <em>groschen</em> in +their pockets; and unhappy waiters +get fat upon their inactivity, but, at +the same time, pale with ill-humour +at their diminished <i><span lang="de">trinkgelder</span></i>, and +apprehension of losing their places +altogether. Travellers’ visits have +grown, like those of angels, “few +and far between;” and as angels do +the poor scanty tourists appear to be +regarded—as munificent beings, in +fact, from whom too much cannot be +demanded and expected; for the +Rhenish hotel-keepers, in pursuance +of the system adopted by Parisian +shopkeepers, in these days of revolutionary +scarcity and destitution, +seem determined to make those unhappy +beings, who fall into their +clutches, redeem the debt they appear +to consider due to them from those +absent tourists, who have not come +to enjoy all the splendours prepared +for them. Since Germany, with its +newborn cry for imperial unity, has +appeared inclined to turn back again, +in new revolutionary spirit, to old +feudal times, the Rhenish hotel-keepers +seem to think that they ought to +appear in the characters of the old +robber-knights. This consideration, +perfectly personal to a poor tourist, +who has lately paid his <i><span lang="de">löse-geld</span></i> at +many a modern robber’s stronghold +on the Rhine, brings him round, however, +to the question which he has +been putting to himself, at every step +he has been taking in Germany—“What +would revolutionising Germany +be at?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>What would revolutionising Germany +be at? It is a question easily +put, but very difficult to answer. The +old joke, lately “freshed-up” to be +applied to the French—namely, that +“they don’t know what they want, +and won’t be easy till they get it,” +may, with still deeper truth, be applied +to the Germans. In spite of +much inquiring conversation with all +men of all ranks, and in all positions of +life, it has been quite impossible for an +unimaginative English understanding +to discover exactly, in the midst of +all the vague rhapsody, florid discourse, +and poetical politics with +which it has been assailed, “what +they want.” To judge by the fermenting +spirit every where prevalent, +the bombastic and unpractical dreams—for +plans they are not—formed as +regards the future, it would be difficult +also not to suppose that “they +won’t be easy till they get it.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>What would revolutionising Germany +be at? In spite of all one sees +and hears, or rather does not hear, it +is impossible not to recur to the +question again and again; for, after +all, in Germany we are among thinking +men, and, children as they may +be in political life, <em>thinking men</em> they +<em>are</em>; and, surely, thinking men must +have some definite end and aim to +which their thoughts, their hopes, +their aspirations, and their efforts are +directed. All the Utopian schemes, +all the unpractical theories of all parties, +who put themselves forward in +the revolutionary movement, be their +tendencies monarchic, constitutional, +or republican, aspire, then, to the +setting up of the ill-defined idol of +modern German political fancies—“German +unity”—“One great and +powerful united Germany”—“One +great united German Empire”—or +whatever name, designation, or varied +shade of name the idol, whose pedestal +is “Union,” may bear. This was +the great fancied panacea for all evils, +for which men clamoured, when, in +imitation of that distracted city of +Paris—so worthy of imitation, forsooth!—they +got up revolutions, and +tried their hands at building barricades. +This has been, in truth, long +since the watchword of the German +student, when, in the recesses of his +beer-cellar at the university, he collected +a set of fellow <em>fancied</em> enthusiasts +around the beer-jugs, imagined +this species of club to be a wonderful +conspiracy, because he designated it +by the forbidden name of “<i><span lang="de">Burschenschaft</span></i>,” +and deemed himself a notable +and formidable conspirator, because he +drank off his <i><span lang="de">krug</span></i> of beer to the cry +of “Perish all Princes—<i><span lang="de">es lebe hoch +das Deutsche Vaterland</span></i>!” The princes, +by the way, were highly complimentary +to such conspirators, in +considering them dangerous, and forbidding +the existence of the <i><span lang="de">Burschenschaften</span></i>, +which were pretty safety-valves +enough to let off the exuberance +of studentic steam. Whether the cry +for a “United Germany” first proceeded +again from the mouths of these fantastic +enthusiasts, who, when they +found out, to their surprise, that the +parts they had been acting in their +mimic dramas of the beer-cellars +might be acted to the life and under +the open sky of heaven, became in +most parts of Germany the leaders +of the mobs, or the heroes of the +barricades, matters but little; nothing +is more like a flock of sheep—although +the term of “a pack of wolves” might +often appear more applicable—than +the general herd of men in moments +of revolutionary excitement; whatever +conclusion, however far-fetched +and fantastic, any old revolutionary +bell-wether may jump at, the +flock is sure to follow and jump after +him. It matters, then, but little +how or by whom the cry of “United +Germany” was first raised—the whole +revolutionary flock immediately set up +the same “baa!” and in each convulsion +of each German State, great +or small, in which a revolution may +be said to have taken place, among +the grievances which mobs, deputations, +or delegates laid before German +princes, as necessary to be forthwith +amended and rectified, was the immediate +and indispensable want of a +“United Germany.” A somewhat +more decided and definite step towards +the possible realisation of this tolerably +vague and indefinite <em>desideratum</em>, +in the amendment of people’s wrongs, +was taken by the call for the meeting +of one united German parliament, for +the purpose of considering and regulating +the affairs of all Germany in +this revolutionary crisis; but more +especially of effecting that union in +one empire, under one head, or under +one form of government, which appeared +to be the great desire of those +who now put themselves forward as +the expression of the will of all the +German nation, either as a whole, or +in its parts; and which seemed to +be considered as the great unknown +remedy for all evils, real or imaginary. +The meeting of the first illegal and +self-constituted body, which, in its +impatience to be ruling the destinies +of the nation, assembled at Frankfort +under the name of a <i><span lang="fr">Vor-Parlement</span></i>, +or preliminary parliament, and, although +originally only emanating +from a club of revolutionary spirits at +Heidelberg, contrived to impose itself +upon Germany and its princes, and +sway the destinies of the land, in +opposition to the old German Diet +assembled in the same place—the +proceedings of the <cite><span lang="de">Ausschuss</span></cite>, or select +committee, which the members of this +<i><span lang="fr">Vor-Parlement</span></i> left behind them, to +follow up their assumed authority, +when they themselves dispersed,—the +constitution of the present National +Assembly, sanctioned by most of the +German princes, and acknowledged +as fully legal and supreme in its +authority, its members being elected +by universal suffrage,—and its meeting +in time to put a stop to the wild +democratic tendencies and reckless +proceedings of the <cite><span lang="de">Ausschuss</span></cite>, are all +matters of newspaper history, and +need here no further detail; they are +mentioned only to show what revolutionising +Germany fancies and pretends +it would be at, as far as any +idea can be formed from its actions—and +the means it would employ to +arrive at its ends. We have got thus +far, then, in the solution of our question. +Revolutionising Germany desires, +above all things, one great and +powerful union of all its several parts,—the +how, when, where, &c., being +as yet very indefinite and unintelligible; +and the General National +Assembly is there to settle those important +preliminaries. Let us content +ourselves awhile with this very +vague and uncertain answer, and return +to old Father Rhine and his neighbourhood, +to have some further idea +of the physiognomy of the country +under the present revolutionary +auspices, and with the soothing hopes +of the realisation of the grand desideratum +of union before the country’s +eyes. After taking this superficial +survey of the “outward man,” and +judging as far as we can of his character +and temper therefrom, we may +then speculate, perhaps, a little upon +his tendencies in his present course; +and even go so far as to attempt to take +his hand, and try a trick or two of +palmistry in fortune-telling—not pretending, +however, in true gipsy spirit, +to infallibility in foretelling the future, +however knowingly and mysteriously +we may shake our heads in so doing.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Although the Germans cannot be +said to have the capabilities of acting +any new part, that they may pretend +to take upon themselves, to the life—and +even to the death—with all that +reality and energy for which the +French have such an inborn talent, +yet they may be looked up to as a +still more symbol-loving people than +the latter; and although perhaps not +quite so much “up to” correctness of +costume, at least quite as fond of +parading the dress of the new part +upon all occasions. The first thing, +consequently, that strikes the tourist, +on entering the Germany of 1848, is the +ostentatious display of the new-old +imperial, so-called national cockade, +the red, black, and gold colours of the +old German empire. It is not only +upon the caps of vapouring students, +who begin to consider themselves +more or less the masters of the world, +or upon the hats of hot-headed, <em>soi-disant</em>-enthusiastic, +poetico-political +young men that the new cockade is +now to be seen; it stares you in the +face from the head and breast of almost +every man you meet—gray-beard, +middle-aged, or youngster. It +is generally from the centre of the +cap or hat, and thus just upon the +forehead, that it glares upon you, +like the dark, red, gleaming eye of a +new race of Cyclops: almost every +male individual looks like a political +Polyphemus. The soldiers are, one +and all, adorned with two cockades, +the one of the colours of the individual +country they serve, the other of those +of Imperial United Germany. They +have thus two staring, distorted, and +unmatched eyes, one over the other, +in the centre of their foreheads. With +their two eyes they ought, one would +suppose, to see farther in the mist of +the political storm than other people. +The military, however, influenced +perhaps by the example of their +aristocratic young officers, have shown +themselves, generally speaking, and +markedly so in Prussia, where the +revolutionary movement has been the +most decided, recalcitrant towards the +so-called progress of the day, anti-popular +in their sympathies, attached +only to the king and individual +country they serve, disdainful of the +new central power, the authority of +which they do not and will not comprehend, +and of its representatives, +whom they regard as a herd of insolent +<i><span lang="de">schwätzer</span></i>, or chatterers—in +fact, anti-revolutionary, or, as it is +called in the pet political phrases of +the day, which the Germans have, +now more than ever, shown themselves +so foolishly eager to borrow of +the French—<i><span lang="de">retrograd</span></i> and <i><span lang="de">reactionär</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This position of the military, which +appears, generally speaking, to be the +same all over the country, is, to say +the best, a very ticklish and equivocal +one, and promises but little for the +future internal peace of United Germany. +Orders, however, have been +given by such authorities as still are,—and +in the first instance by weak, +uncertain, vacillating, and now disappointed +Prussia,—that the military +should do their homage to the ideas +of the day, by wearing the imperial +cockade, if not in lieu of, at all events +in addition to, that which they had +heretofore considered as their national +symbol: and the double Polyphemus +eye of the soldier is one of the most +striking and startling evidences of the +unsteady and contending spirit of the +times, that meet the eye of the tourist +in Germany of to-day. Even more +than the students—who are still, however, +sufficiently remarkable both in +costume and manner in these days of +unrestricted movement and opinion—you +will find a certain set of men, +whose physiognomy of race is so +strongly marked by some indescribable +peculiarity of type, whatever be their +colour or form of feature, as to render +them unmistakeable, and who make +the most flaring display of the imperial +national colours, now so +strangely converted into the symbol +of a revolutionary spirit, be it in +cockade, or band, or button-hole +decoration. These are the Jews. +They are positively lavish in their +display of ribbon. Ever since the +revolution has begun its dubious and +unsteady course throughout Germany, +it has been, invariably and everywhere, +the Jews who have displayed +the strongest revolutionary spirit, the +most decided republican tendencies, +the most acrimonious hatred against +the “powers that be,” and the most +virulent efforts towards the subversion +of the existing state of things. What +may have been the cause of the outburst +of this spirit in an essentially trading +and money-getting people, whose +commercial advantages, in whatever +branch they may lie, must be so completely +compromised, if not altogether +ruined, by revolutionary movements +and their consequences, it would be +difficult in a superficial sketch to say: +it may be conjectured to have arisen +simply from a spirit of revenge against +the exclusive upper classes of Germany, +who have so long treated +their sect, proud of its wealth, +and seeking influence from its power, +with cutting repulsion and contempt. +The fact, however, is as stated; the +most active revolutionary spirits engaged +in the task of pulling down and +destroying, as far as was possible, +have been every where the Jews; the +avowed republicans may chiefly be +found among men of their persuasion; +the clamour, the attack, and the +denunciation, chiefly still proceed +from Jewish mouths and Jewish pens. +Those who now march forward, then, +the most boldly, hand in hand in +strange conjunction, along the precipitous +path of revolutionary movement, +are the students and the Jews. +If you unwisely allow one of the latter +to lay hold of an unlucky button of +your coat in a steamboat, he will be +sure to endeavour, with his peculiar +twang, to insinuate into you all the +wildest ultra-revolutionary doctrines: +the former will keep more apart from +you, and herd in knots; but, when +they get drunk, instead of vapouring +vague, incomprehensible, <em>soi-disant</em> +Kantian philosophy, as of yore, they +will bellow still more vague and incomprehensible +political theories about +United Germany. It is these two +classes of beings, then, who make the +most ostentatious parade of the national +cockades that flash across our +eyesight.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The fate of this cockade has been a +very strange one, by the way, in latter +years. The red, black, and gold combination +was long formally proscribed +in universities, as deleterious and +dangerous, and typical of the forbidden +<i><span lang="de">Burschenschaften</span></i>: it was worn only +in secret and by stealth, by recalcitrant +would-be revolutionary students. All +on a sudden it has been raised on +high in flag and banner, waving not +only in revolutionary procession, but +from palace walls, and tops of public +buildings. The cockade has not only +been authorised, but enjoined; and in +a late reactionary movement in Berlin,—when, +out of jealousy and spite towards +a central power, that had +chosen its executive head from southern +and not northern Germany, a +considerable public feeling was exhibited +against the imperial national +flag, and in favour of the Prussian +colours exclusively—the government, +or rather the king himself, was +obliged, for fear of an outbreak of the +students, to command the resumption +of those colours in flag and cockade, +which, but a little while ago, he himself +had proscribed. The pride of the +young <em>soi-disant</em> heroes at being +openly able to parade that symbol +which they cherished only heretofore +as fancied conspirators, may be easily +conceived: and, now these boy-men +find that they can dictate to the +princes of the earth, not only upon the +matter of flags and cockades, but +upon matters of far graver note, +there is no knowing to what height +of presumption this pride may not +still further lead them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>If, now, we look around us to note +the general physiognomy of the people, +we shall find many other little traits, +that mark these revolutionary times +in Germany. The common people, +more especially upon the Rhine, and +in many parts of the duchy of Baden—the +common people, formerly so smiling, +so ready, so civil, perhaps only +too obsequious in their signs of respect, +have grown insolent and rude: ask them +a question, and they will scarcely deign +to bestow upon you an answer: in +many instances they will shrug their +shoulders, laugh in your face, and then +turn their back upon you. On the +contrary the public officials, the government +<i><span lang="de">beamten</span></i>, have considerably +lowered that arrogance of tone for +which they formerly possessed a not +unmerited evil repute, and will answer +your inquiries with civil words +and smiling faces. Such, however, is +the natural see-saw movement of +manners in revolutionary times, in the +lower and lower-middle classes; and +as far as regards the latter effect of +revolutionary movement, no tourist +in Germany will be disposed to complain +of the change.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Over the middle and upper classes, +at the same time, there has fallen a +very visible gloom. That uncertainty +of the future, which is proverbially +far more difficult for moral strength +to bear than any certain evil, has had +the very evident effect, to the least +observant eye, of depressing the spirits +of “all manner of men.” The <em>hope</em> +appears to exist only in the theoretical +fancies of the excited liberal politician,—the +<em>enthusiasm</em> only in the +wild dreams of the declaiming student. +The prevailing impression is one of +all the dulness of doubt and the stupor +of apprehension. Talk to people of +the state of the country, and they will +either shake their heads with a grunt, +or openly express their fears about the +future: and those fears are none the +less active because they are so vague—none +the less depressing because +they wear the mysterious, visionary, +and consequently awful form which +the dim distance of complete uncertainty +imparts.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Another change, again, in the manners +of the people, is in the politicising +spirit, so uncongenial in times gone +by to the Germans, which, in most +great towns, seems now to have so +completely absorbed them. It is to +be found not only in the low clubs, +and in the insensate pothouse debates, +but in the eagerness to crowd +round the revolutionary addresses, +which are posted by ultra-liberals at +street corners, in the anxiety to read +the last revolutionary disquisition of +the new radical journal, in all its glory +of large sheet and full columns, which +has taken the place of the innocent +and patriarchal little <cite>Volks-blatt</cite>, that +was before the study and delight of the +humble burgher; and in the malicious +enjoyment with which the political +caricature, railing at prince or +men in power, is studied at the shop +window, and the feverish importance +that is attached to it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>All these characteristic signs and +changes will meet the eye of the tourist +if he even go no farther than the +confines of the Rhine, and the old city +of Cologne. There at once is that +depression visible to which allusion +has already been made. It is +visible in the aspect of the fallen half-ruined +shopkeeper, of the disconsolate +master of the hotel, and, above all, +of the anxious labourer upon the progress +of that mighty work, the completion +of which evil times seem again +to render an impossible task—the Cologne +cathedral. Funds for the further +progress of the great undertaking +already begin to fail; and these are +not times to seek them from the munificence +either of states or private +individuals. The <i><span lang="de">Baumeister</span></i>, who has +spent the greater part of a life upon +the wonderful task of working out the +completion of this miracle of Gothic +art,—whose whole soul has been concentrated +upon this one object,—the +breath of whose very existence seems +to depend upon the growth of this +foster-child of his fancy, for which +alone he has lived,—now shakes his +head, like the consumptive man whose +presentiments tell him that his last +hour is nigh, and who despairs of +escaping his doom. The revolutionary +wind has blown like the plague-blast +over the land: he feels that his +hand must soon fall powerless before +the neglect, or even ill-will of the +newborn age of revolutionary liberty, +and that he must disperse +abroad that band of artist-workmen +whom he has fashioned and educated +to the noble work, and whom, in +their completeness of artistic intelligence, +none perhaps, in future years, +may be able again to collect together. +The cathedral, however, has proceeded +to a certain point, at which the whole +interior may be enclosed; and there, +in all probability, the progress of the +works will be checked for the present. +The consecration of the new part of +the building, in this state, has already +taken place; but, even in these ceremonies, +the revolutionary modern +spirit of Germany has not forgotten to +assert its influence: the deputation +sent to them by the Prussian Assembly +refused to join to itself a Catholic +ecclesiastic; and yet it was seriously +proposed at the same time, by the +arrangers of the ceremonial <em>programme</em>, +that the monarchs who were expected +to be present upon the occasion should +mount upon the roof of the cathedral, +and there take an oath to preserve the +unity of Germany, which oath was to +be blessed and ratified by the Pope, +who was to be invited to come over +to Cologne for the purpose. The Pope +has had other deeds and other revolutionary +tendencies to bless or to ban +in his own dominions; but this little +trait, culled from the first <em>programme</em> +of the consecration of the Cologne +cathedral, may be taken, at the same +time, as a slight specimen of the wild +poetico-political freaks of theoretically +revolutionising Germany.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Let us wend our way a little farther. +Without attempting to take any precise +survey of Prussia and Austria, +the continued fermenting and agitated +state of which countries is the topic of +every-day newspaper notice, and consequently +without venturing upon any +description of the poisonous and ulcerating +sores continually breaking out +upon the face of the fair and once +healthy cities of Berlin and Vienna, +the ignorant tumult of the parliamentary +meetings assembled in them, +the noisy fermentation of the ultra-revolutionary +and republican clubs, +the symbolical but dangerous demonstrations +of hot-headed students and +other unripe and unquiet spirits, the +continual struggle and clash of parties +accusing each other reciprocally of +utterly subversive or counter-revolutionary +and reactionary tendencies, +and the constantly threatened danger +of fresh convulsions, with further ruin +to trade, and consequently to the well-being +of the country at large—without, +then, painting to ourselves a well-known +and notorious picture, let us +cast our eyes over the outward aspect +of some of the smaller states.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nothing, in the first place, can be +more uneasy and disquieting than the +appearance of the Duchy of Baden. +In Heidelberg, ultra-revolutionary +students have come to a total schism +with their moderately and vaguely revolutionary +professors; and it is at +present difficult to see how any understanding +is to be effected between +teacher and scholar, so as to render +the university a seat of learning of any +other kind than that of subversive +principles. In this part of Germany +the revolutionary fermentation appears +far more active, and is far more visible +in the manner, attitude, and language +of the lower classes, than even in those +hotbeds of revolutionary movement, +Austria and Prussia. To this state of +things the confinity with agitated +France, and consequently a more +active affinity with its ideas, caught +like a fever from a next-door neighbour’s +house, the agency of the emissaries +from the ultra-republican Parisian +clubs, who find an easier access +across the frontiers—not without the +cognisance, and, it would now seem, +as was long suspected, with the aid +also of certain influential members of +the Provisional Government of France—and +the fact also that the unhappy +duchy has been, if not the native +country, at least the scene of action of +the republican insurgents Hecker and +Struve—have all combined to contribute. +It is impossible to enter the +duchy and converse with the peasant +population, formerly and proverbially +so peacefully disposed in patriarchal +Germany, without finding the poison +of these various influences gathering +and festering in all their ideas, words, +and actions. The prostration of spirit, +generally speaking, among the +middle and trading classes, the discouragement, +the uncertain fear, are +even still more apparent here than on +the lower Rhine; and the gloom appears +the greater, from all we see and +hear, the higher we mount upon the +social ladder. The proud and exclusive +German nobility, who have so +long slept cradled in the pride and +exclusiveness of their courtly prerogatives +and privileges, now waken to see +an abyss before and behind them, a +precipice at every step. How far they +may have merited the terrors of utter +ruin to their fortunes as well as their +position, by their long contemptuous +exclusion from their intercourse and +society of all who had not the magic +key to secure admission to them, +in the shape of the privileged particle +denoting nobility, whatever was the +talent and the worth of the despised +unprivileged—and to this state of +things, even up to the present day, +there have been very few exceptions +at German courts, and much less in +German high society—how far they +have themselves prepared the way for +their present position, by their wilful +blindness to the progress of ideas in the +world, are not questions to be discussed +here. Their present apprehension and +consternation are very apparent in +every word and action, however much +the younger generation, and especially +those of it who may be military men, +may bluster and talk big, and defy: +they fly away to their country houses, +if they have them, economise, retrench, +and pinch, in preparation for +that change in circumstances and +position which seems to be approaching +them like a spectre. The little +capitals of Carlsruhe and Stuttgardt, +with their small ducal and royal courts, +certainly never exhibited any picture +of great animation or bustle even in +their most flourishing times; but the +gloom that now hangs over them is +assuredly very different from the +peaceful, although somewhat torpid +quietude in which they heretofore reposed: +their dulness has become +utter dreariness; their lady-like old-maidish +decent listlessness a sort of +melancholy bordering upon despair. +Princes and people look askance +at one another: people suffer; and +princes think right to retrench. The +theatres of these little capitals are +about to be closed, because they are +considered to be too expensive popular +luxuries in the present state of +things, and onerous appendages +to court charges. Sovereigns cut +down their households and their studs; +and queens shut themselves close up in +their summer residences, declaring +themselves too poor to visit German +watering-places, and support the expenses +of regal <em>toilette</em>. In Stuttgardt +these symptoms are all peculiarly +visible. Spite of the long-acquired +popularity of the King of Wurtemberg, +as a liberal, well-judging, and +rightly-minded monarch towards his +subjects, the wind of revolution, that +has blown in such heavy gusts in other +parts of Germany, has not wholly +spared that kingdom; and before accomplishing +the intention attributed +to him of retiring, in order to avoid +those revolutionary demands which, +in spite of his best intentions, he declares +himself unable conscientiously to +meet, the present king puts in practice +those measures of retrenching economy, +which add to the gloom of his capital +and the disconsolate look of the court-attached +and commercial portion of +his subjects. It is scarcely possible, +however, to suppose that the King of +Wurtemberg can seriously think of +abdicating in favour of a son whose +youthful actions have always rendered +him highly unpopular, all the more so +as he is married to a Russian archduchess, +whose birth must render her +<i><span lang="fr">suspecte</span></i> to the liberals of the day. +Another cause, which contributes to +the melancholy and deserted air of +these capitals of the smaller German +courts, is the retirement of the ambassadors +and diplomatic agents of +the other German courts, who, if not +already recalled from their posts, will +probably shortly be so, to meet the +views of German unity, which needs +but one representative in common. +This unhappy look of the little German +capitals is one of the most melancholy +signs of the times in these smaller +states. In Hanover and Brunswick +the apparent resolution of their +present rulers, to resist the power +of the new Central Government of +would-be united Germany, occasions +agitation, uncertainty, and fear, which +make themselves as fully apparent +in outward symptoms as elsewhere. +Bavaria alone appears to preserve an +exceptional position. Bavaria also +has had her revolution, to be sure; +but, strange to say, the revolution +was occasioned by the manœuvres of +the anti-liberal, or, in that country, +Jesuitical party, against the liberal +tendencies of a wild woman’s influence +over the mind of the king; and, singular +as was the nature and cause of +this revolution, singular has remained +the situation of Bavaria, quiet, unagitated, +and seemingly contented, in +the midst of the convulsive hurly-burly +passing every where around it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>After this cursory survey of the +outward aspect of a great part of +Germany, let us turn our eyes to +Frankfort, the present central point of +all interest and attention; for there +sits the General National Assembly; +there is to be brewed, by whatever recipe, +or in whatever manner it may be, +that fancied panacea for all evils, the +Union of Germany: there, then, we +may probably best learn what revolutionising +Germany would be at, or, +at all events, best see the means employed +to arrive at something like a +consummation. Let us first look at +the cooks at their work; and then +taste the nature of the brew, as far as +their political culinary efforts have +gone to “make the medley slab and +good.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Let us enter, then, that plain, dry, +and harsh-looking circular building, +which is the Lutheran Church of St +Paul; it is there the Assembly holds +its sittings. The interior arrangement +has been fashioned entirely upon the +plan of the French Chambers. The +President’s tribune, the lower tribune +of the orator before it, the gradually +rising and diverging amphitheatre of +seats for the members, are all entirely +French in their plan. Completely +French also, and with similar designation, +is the political shading of the +members according to their seats; the +<i><span lang="fr">Droit</span></i>, the <i><span lang="fr">Centre</span></i> in its variety of progressing +<i><span lang="fr">nuances</span></i>, and the <i><span lang="fr">Gauche</span></i> and +<i><span lang="fr">Extreme Gauche</span></i> have the same signification +in the German Assembly as in +the French. Nor does the resemblance +cease here; the constitution of +the Assembly, in its various elements, +has a strong affinity to that of the +present French National Assembly. +The majority of the members are +evidently concentrated in the different +shades of the <i><span lang="fr">Centre</span></i>. The old conservatives +of the right have but little +influence, except as a make-weight +against the ultra-liberals. The centre +consists chiefly of the old liberals, and +opposition leaders in the different +chambers of such of the German states +as possessed constitutions of one modification +or another—men who have +now, in turn, in their position towards +the ultra-revolutionary spirits, that +tendency which may be called liberal +conservative: they are the men of +progress, who, in the present hurricane +of revolutionary ideas, endeavour to +guide the helm so as to avoid the very +rocks they have had so great a hand in +raising, and to restrain the very +waves which their own breath has so +greatly contributed to lash into fury! +They are the Odillon Barrots, and +suchlike old liberals of Germany. +They find that the task before them is +one of far ruder difficulty than in their +theoretical fancies they had first imagined; +and many of them there may be, +who cannot but acknowledge to themselves, +however little they may be +inclined to acknowledge it to the world, +that the business of a vast nation is +not to be conducted by inexperienced +heads, however talented, however well +they may have conducted the business +of a counting-house, or taught theories +from a professor’s chair—in fact, that +theory and practice will not walk hand +in hand without a long process of +amalgamating experience. The left +is occupied by the men of revolutionary +utopics and crude subversive +opinions; and in its extreme by the +ardent republicans and tribunes of the +people, whom the revolution has caused +to spring out of the political soil like +mushrooms. These are the men who +complain, in speech or in journal, that +the Assembly is wasting its time +in vain vapid disputations—an +accusation, by the way, by no means +unfounded—and yet themselves, when +ever they mount into the tribune, +indulge, more than any others, in declamatory +would-be poetical phrases, +“full of sound and fury, signifying +nothing,” and containing not one practical +idea, or feasible proposal. They +seem to think that, by ringing the +changes upon certain pet words, such +as “patriotism” and “nationality,” +they have said great things and done +great deeds for the good of the country; +and, as far as such clap-trap efforts to +gain popular applause go, they may +fairly be said to obtain their ends. +In this again they have a strong +“cousin-german” resemblance with +the French ultras in a similar position—and +no less so in their endeavours to +overawe and browbeat the majority of +the Assembly by noisy exclamations, +and even uproarious riot. The German +ultras, however, have succeeded, +to a great extent, in a manœuvre in +which their French brethren have +failed, although supported in it, at +first, by a certain reckless member +of the Provisional Government—that +is to say, in packing the public galleries +with acolytes, said to be paid, +who, while they applaud all ultra-revolutionary +speeches “to the echo,” +endeavour to put down the conservative +orators by tumult, or violent +hissings, and are of course vaunted +forth in the ultra-liberal journals as +“the expression of the will of the +nation.” Be it said, at the same time, +<em>en passant</em>, that this manner of applauding +by the clapping of hands, and +expressing disapproval by hissing, has +been borrowed from a habit of the +members of the Assembly themselves, +which has certainly a very unparliamentary +appearance and sound to +English eyes and ears. This use of +the public galleries, which, in spite of +the regulations of the Assembly, it +has been found impossible altogether +to put down, has assuredly a certain +influence in overawing and intimidating +some of the members of the majority. +Two causes, however, have +contributed to preserve the Assembly +from utter anarchy and confusion. +The first of these, a negative one, +consists in the fact that Frankfort is +not a great noisy stirring capital of a +great country, where a mob is always +at hand to be used as a tyrannical +influence by the leaders of the people, +and that there are no suburbs filled +with a working population, whence, +as in Paris, an insurgent army may be +suddenly recruited to work mischief, +when it may have no other work to do. +The second, a direct and active one, +arises from the personality of the +President of the Assembly; and certainly +it is in the personal qualities +and physical advantages of the Herr +von Gagern, as much as in his position, +and from the esteem in which he is +held, that his power to dominate, control, +and will to order, very greatly +consists.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The President Gagern, long known as +the most talented and leading opposition +member of the Darmstadt Chamber, +has passed his life in his energetic +attempts to further those constitutional +liberties, which he would now check +with powerful hand, that they may not +go too far. Disappointed and disgusted +with his fruitless efforts to promote +what he considered the interests of +his country, the Herr von Gagern had +retired, for some time past, into private +life, when, upon the breaking forth +of the revolutionary storm, he was +called upon by his prince to take the +helm of affairs, and, as minister, to +steer the bark along the current by +which he might avoid the Scylla of +ultra-democracy as much as the Charybdis +of resistance to the progress of +the age. In this new character he again +appeared upon the stage of the political +world; and he has only retired from +his post, as he has since refused to +accept office as minister of the new +central executive power of all Germany, +in order to maintain the position, +to which he was raised by acclamation, +as the controlling head of that +Assembly which was to decide the +destinies of the country, and from the +councils of which he himself had +fondly hoped to see emanate the welfare +of united Germany.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Tall and stout, with a face which +possesses a decision and firmness of +character, much aided by a pair of +very broad black brows, Herr von +Gagern has, at the same time, a bold +dignity of manner and gesture, which +is well calculated to rule an Assembly, +and a powerful voice, which +knows how to make itself heard in a +storm: a ready and simple eloquence, +and a clear good sense, which fastens +upon the right point at the right +moment, are combined with these +advantages of exterior appearance; +and as he rises, in cases of emergency, +to display a vigour of energy, rather +than that system of conciliation so +fatally used in France, and so impracticable +amidst all the clashing party +opinions of a revolutionary Assembly, +he shows himself to be the man of +the moment, and of the place. He +may be said to be the saviour of the +German National Assembly, inasmuch +as his personal influence may be +considered to have rescued it from +that state of anarchy and confusion +which now disgraces the French chamber, +and into which the German +Assembly, with its conflicting elements, +and its still greater inexperience, +seemed at first about to fall.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As it is, the German National +Assembly can by no means be looked +upon as a model of parliamentary +order: it is still noisy, ill-regulated, +and uncertain in its movements. It +cannot be denied, at the same time, +that sufficient individual talent may +be found among its members. Among +the rising men of the day, the orators +of Prussia and the smaller northern +states, (for Southern Germany has +as yet produced but little striking +talent,)—along with those young, +ardent, and energetic men who, the +conspirators and insurgents of a few +months ago, have gone over to the +liberal conservative majority, and the +people’s orators, who aim at being +the O’Connells of Germany, as their +phraseology goes, and who, in spite +of the impracticable nature of their +tenets, and the frequently vapid nature +of their declamation, have a certain, +rude ready eloquence, that strives to +be poetical—there are also a few +practised statesmen, a few wary old +men of action, and several well-known +authors and poets, such as old Uhland, +whose democratic ardour still keeps, +him upon the benches of the left, and +the Count Auersperg, well known +under the name of Anastatius Grün, +whom disappointments in his position, +in society are supposed also to have +driven into the ultra-democratic ranks. +But there seems to be an utter want +of purpose in most of the speeches +which emanate from the lips of these +men of talent. Proverbially vague +in their philosophical theories, even +when they make most pretensions to +clearness, the Germans show themselves +still more so in their political +views. The speeches not only of the +ultra-liberals, but of the would-be +statesmen of the centre, appear +mere compilations of “words, words, +words,” without any tangible argument +or practical proposal: it is rarely +that it is possible to sift from the +readily flowing, but generally most +muddy stream, a sand of gold, that +may be used as one of sterling worth +in the crown of unity which the hands +of the Assembly would be forging. +In all that emanates from the Assembly, +either in debate or in decree, +there is generally a lamentable want +of correctly defined purpose: and, in +fact, to return to the point from which +we have started, it is as difficult to +discover from the vague, wavering, +boggling proceedings of the Assembly, +as from any other quarter, or from +any other movement, precisely what +revolutionising Germany would be at. +Up to the present time, like the Provisional +Government of France, it has +rather attempted to rule aristocratically +itself, than to prepare the way, as +was its object, for the future definitive +constitution of Germany. The only +definite step it has yet taken towards +that vague <em>desideratum</em>, a “United +Germany,” has been in the appointment +of a Provisional Executive +Head, and of a cabinet of ministers +at its direction.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Except in as far as regards the +jealousy of Prussia, disappointed in +its hopes of itself giving the head to +the Imperial government, and inclined +in consequence to quarrel with +the dictates of that central power, +for which it clamoured, and which +it at least accepted not ungraciously, +as long as it thought, with true Prussian +conceit, that the head must +necessarily emanate from itself—a +jealousy to which reference will be +made further on—the choice of the +Austrian Archduke John, as Administrator +or Protector of the Government +of United Germany, whatever +his charge may be called, (for the +German term “Reichs Verweser” +expresses in itself both these attributive +designations,) cannot be looked +upon as one of any political weight. +As a prince, enjoying for many years +past a certain popularity, more perhaps +from a feeling of opposition, +because he was considered as living +upon ill terms with the Imperial court +of Austria, than from any personal +attachment to himself, the Archduke +John may be considered to be well +selected as a popular and generally +accepted head of Germany: whether +he possesses either the talent or the +energy to fill so strange and awfully +responsible a post in the present disturbed +state of Germany is another +question, which only those who have +known him in the retirement of private +life can answer. The political writer +who designated him as the Duke of +Sussex of Austria, made a happy hit +in thus classifying him. The Archduke +John has rendered himself popular +by his patronage and furtherance +of scientific institutions: but he has +been too little known, otherwise than +as the discarded and disgraced of the +Imperial family, to be called in any +way “the man of the people.” The +marriage, which was the cause of +his disgrace, was thus, likewise, +the cause of his popularity, such as it +was: the union of an Imperial prince +with a girl of comparatively humble +birth—a union about the origin of +which so many absurdly fabulous +tales have been told—flattered the +instincts of the middle and lower +classes. The Archduchess, however, +who now finds herself elevated still +more, to a pinnacle to which her +wildest dreams could scarcely have +led her, and who is now flattered, +caressed, and done homage to, as she +was before set aside, is said to reveal +nothing of any humble origin, and to +be as lady-like as sensible in manner. +Upon the whole, then, it is not in the +wholly provisional and most unstable +appointment of the Archduke John as +“Reichs Verweser” that we shall find +any solution to the inquiry as to the +more certain revolutionary tendencies +of Germany.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Assuredly more ought to be gathered +from the appointment of the new +central cabinet, and more especially +of its Minister for Foreign Affairs and +leading member, Prince Leiningen: +and naturally we look to the recent +manifesto of the prince as a document +from which we may best learn “what +revolutionising Germany would be at.” +Sensible and clear, or at all events as +little confused as is possible in the present +confused state of all theories, plans, +and reasonings in Germany, the manifesto, +in doing no more than pointing +out two methods towards effecting the +reconstruction of Germany, leaves +every thing as regards the future in as +vague and uncertain a state as before. +It only states a dilemma—it does not +attempt to resolve it. It puts Germany +in a cleft stick, or rather, at the +division of two paths, the greater merit +or practicability of either of which it does +not attempt to show very decisively, +by its concluding words, “<i><span lang="de">Entweder, +Oder!</span></i> choose!” In fact, it does no +more than ask with ourselves, “What +would revolutionising Germany be +at?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>It may be surmised, certainly, from +the manifesto of Prince Leiningen, +that he himself is really inclined towards +the going forward in the uncertain +course of doing <em>something</em> towards +the effectuation of the desired union, +although he by no means pretends to +recommend <em>how</em> this is to be done. +He seems—and his acceptation of +office would in itself appear to confirm +the fact—a partisan of what he +defines somewhat confusedly as “an +actual union of all the component +parts of the whole, in such a manner +as to avert the possibility of any dispute +between the whole and the parts;” +for he adds, “If any other course be +pursued, not singleness or unity, but +discord and separation will be established.” +But in the alternative which +he places before Germany, of either +returning to the past, or of realising +the uncertain and as yet undefined desideratum +of a great union for the +future, it would seem, whatever be the +prince’s own meaning, or whatever +may be supposed to be the means used +by the Assembly to produce a united +whole, that he only places before it at +the same time the alternative of a civil +war, at which he himself hints, or a +republican constitution, which must +appear to be the result of the progress +in its present sense, of revolutionising +Germany.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When we hear that “to retrograde +to a confederation of states, or to establish +a weak federal state, by a +powerfully impressed independence of +the individual states, would only be to +create a mournful period of transition +to fresh catastrophes and new revolutions;” +that from such a course of +proceeding would result the danger +“of harbouring in Germany revolutionary +movements, or perchance civil +war, for a series of years;” that the +nation would arrive at “the most undesirable +consummation of rendering +itself ridiculous for ever by trumpeting +to the world German unity and German +power, and presenting in reality +a spectacle the very reverse”—when +we hear that “no dynastic interests +can be taken into consideration if the +nation wills unity;” that “to construct +a new empire, and at the same time to +permit an organisation tending to an +inevitable contest for the supreme +sovereignty between the individual +states, would be to sow disunion instead +of unity, to create weakness instead +of power;” and that, consequently, +“the imperial power must, +in a degree, absorb in itself the sovereignty +of the individual states, abolish +the diplomatic intercourse of the individual +states at home and abroad, and +concentrate it in its own hands, appropriate +to itself the unconditional +disposal of the national forces, and not +allow governments or their constituent +State Assemblies to occupy themselves +with affairs appertaining to the +National Assembly alone, since a perfectly +established central state, in +which other perfectly established states +are encased, would be virtually a monstrosity,”—when +we hear all these +things, and weigh the tendency of their +views, we can see in them no other +result than the abasement of the individual +sovereigns, an absorption +of their power, which would leave +them no more than useless and ridiculous +puppets, and, consequently, their +inevitable overthrow in the course of +time, and the establishment of republican +institutions, whatever the name +given to the new form of republic, +whatever the title bestowed upon +its head, be it even Emperor, or <i><span lang="de">Reichs +Verweser</span></i>, Regent, Protector, Administrator, +or President.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On the other hand, when we are +told—although “jealousies between +individual states, and revilings of the +northern by the southern parts of the +empire” are stigmatised as “criminal +absurdities”—that, “if the many collateral +and coexistent interests are too +preponderant to be sacrificed to German +unity, if the old spirit of discord +and separation is still too powerfully +at work, if the jealousy between race +and race, between north and south, is +still too strongly felt, the nation must +convince itself of the fact, and return +to the old federal system,” already +hinted at as <em>impossible</em> without fresh +revolutions or long civil wars; and +when we know, at the same time, that +these jealousies between state and +state not only <em>do</em> exist, but continue +to increase and ferment still more in +the present state of things,—that in +fact, the old spirit of discord and separation +is still more powerfully at +work than ever,—what can we look +forward to? Only the other alternative +to which we have alluded—those civil +wars which the manifesto of Prince +Leiningen itself hints at so cautiously.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Since, from the very first commencement +of the revolution in Germany, the +jealous spirit between the northern +and southern states broke out in a decided +form, it has only increased instead +of diminishing. When the vacillating +but ambitious King of Prussia, +desirous of coming forward as the +“man of Germany” of the day, but +“infirm of purpose,” attempted to +direct the revolutionary movement in +his own states by accepting the call for a +United German Empire, and by placing +himself, although unavowedly, at its +head, the Austrian <em>Official</em> Gazette +immediately fulminated a severe, +damning, and, under the circumstances, +almost cruel manifesto +against the ambitious Prussian monarch; +in Bavaria, the young men of +the upper classes burnt his majesty +in effigy in the public market-place of +Munich; at Stuttgardt, the picture of +the offending sovereign was as publicly +hung by the neck to a gallows. +Southern Germany was indignant at +the thought that an upstart King of +Prussia should attempt to lead the +movement for a new United Empire +of Germany, and presume even to +dream of being its future emperor. +But when, in the course of events, the +provisional head of the newly constituted +central power was chosen by +the assembly from among the princes +of Southern Germany, it was the turn +of Prussia to exhibit its spite and +anger: its jealousy was not to be +concealed. The result of the disappointed +ambition of Prussia was +exhibited, as already alluded to, in a +reactionary feeling against that central +power, which it would have accepted +probably with acclamation, +and been the first to applaud and +support, had it emanated from its own +country. The exhibition of this feeling +in some violent outbreak was so +much dreaded upon the occasion of +the military homage appointed to +be shown to the <i><span lang="de">Reichs Verweser</span></i> at +Berlin, that the ceremony, as is well +known, was obliged to be countermanded. +The feeling is now still +continuing to be shown in a constant +exhibition of mistrust on the part of +Prussia towards the National Assembly, +and as well as in the counter-accusation +of that new and vaguely +defined political crime “reaction,” +laid by the journals of the moderate +party, as well as by the ultra-liberals, +to the charge of Prussia. With all +these conflicting elements at work between +the various parts of Germany, +and again between these various +parts and the central power, placed +in the hands of the Assembly, it is +very difficult to look clearly as yet +towards any possible constitution of +that unity which would appear to be +the most vague end and aim of the +revolution in Germany. To those +who attempt to look into the mist of +the future, and see visions, and dream +dreams—for, in the present state of +the cloudy and wavering political +horizon, it would seem that all +political foresight can pretend to no +better name than that—the nearer of +the two alternatives to be deduced +from Prince Leiningen’s manifesto, +would appear to be the disunion, the +total rupture, the civil war.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The other alternative, however, +seems not without its chances; for, +although the old liberals of republican +tendencies, the suspected and imprisoned, +have now been brought +round, for the most part, into the +ranks of the moderately progressive +party, in the natural course of revolutionary +changes, or even been called +to the councils of the kings and +princes who rejected and persecuted +them; yet, on the other hand, the exertions +of the moderate party, in spite +of the clog that they would now put +upon the too rapid course of ultra-democracy, +appear to tend, in the +efforts made, and the views entertained +respecting the unity of Germany, +towards the very republican +institutions which they disavow, and +suppose themselves endeavouring to +avoid. The real republicans, at the +same time, although without any +present weight among the political +spirits of the day, are yet composed, +as elsewhere, of the young, hot-headed, +reckless, active, stirring elements of +the time, and are always ready to +make up, by violence and headlong +precipitation, for what they want in +importance and experience. They are +aided also in their views by a certain +party of the liberal press, which is +always preaching the imitation of +French institutions and the conduct +of the present leading men in France,—as +if France and the French did not +hold up a lesson and a warning instead +of models for imitation—and +consoling Germany with the idea, that +although it does not possess such +enviable men or measures, the men +must shortly rise upon the political +surface, and that the measures will +follow behind them. By a great portion +of the press, even that of the +moderate party also, a continual irritation +of suspicion and mistrust is +being kept up against the still reigning +sovereigns of Germany; and the +cry of that very vague accusation +“reaction,” the name of which alone, +however, is considered sufficiently +damning, is constantly raised upon +every movement, of whatever nature +it may be, which those sovereigns +may make. The moderate party may +be acquitted of republican tendencies +in their hearts; but they seem to +ignore the old proverb, “give a dog +a bad name,” and the consequences; +and they will make “sad dogs” out +of the sovereigns, until at last the +consequences will threaten more and +more nearly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Between these two alternatives, +however, Germany seems to think +that it may find a middle course, and +establish its theoretical and vaunted +unity without exciting civil dissension, +or plunging into the depths of republicanism. +May it prove right in its +as yet uncertain hopes; but certainly +the means by which this desired consummation +is to be arrived at, are not +in the least degree visible: it remains +as yet the vaguest of vague fancies—the +how, the where, the when, and +even the why, are as yet matters of +doubt: not only deeds but principles, +not only principles but plans, to this +intent, are as yet utterly absent. In +fact our question, after all, remains +unanswered; and, beyond the main +point of “unity,” to be effected somehow +or other, revolutionising Germany +seems utterly unable to tell us, +as we vainly endeavour to find out +definitively, “what it would be at?”</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c017'> + <div><span class='small'><em>Printed by William Blackwood and Sons, Edinburgh.</em></span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c024'> +<div class='footnote' id='f1'> +<p class='c008'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. See our No. for March 1848.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f2'> +<p class='c008'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. Hide—from <em>cacher</em>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f3'> +<p class='c008'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. Carrion.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f4'> +<p class='c008'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. In Frémont’s expedition to California, on a somewhat similar occasion, two +mountaineers, one the celebrated Kit Carson, the other a St Louis Frenchman named +Godey, and both old trappers, performed a feat surpassing the one described above, +inasmuch as they were but two, who charged into an Indian village to rescue some +stolen horses, and avenge the slaughter of two New Mexicans who had been butchered +by the Indians; both which objects they effected, returning to camp with the lost +animals and a couple of propitiatory scalps.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f5'> +<p class='c008'><a href='#r5'>5</a>. The Mexicans call the Indians living near the Missions and engaged in agriculture, +<i><span lang="es">mansos</span></i>, or <i><span lang="es">mansitos</span></i>, tame.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f6'> +<p class='c008'><a href='#r6'>6</a>. From a manuscript obtained in Santa Fé of New Mexico, describing the labours +of the missionaries Fray Augustin Ruiz, Venabides, and Macos, in the year 1585.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f7'> +<p class='c008'><a href='#r7'>7</a>. “Some were so barbarous as to eat their own species.” The sentence refers to +the Scythians, and is in Strabo. I mention the authority, for Strabo is not an author +that any man engaged on a less work than the History of Human Error is expected +to have by heart.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f8'> +<p class='c008'><a href='#r8'>8</a>. <cite>Memoirs of the Reign of George II., from his Accession to the Death of Queen +Caroline.</cite> By <span class='sc'>John Lord Hervey</span>. Edited, from the original MSS. at Ickworth, by +the Right Hon. <span class='sc'>J. W. Croker</span>. 2 vols. Murray, London: 1848.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f9'> +<p class='c008'><a href='#r9'>9</a>. “Upon the evening of this long day’s march, the imperial column approaching +Gjatz was surprised to find upon the road the bodies of Russians quite recently +slain, all with their heads cloven in the same manner, and with their brains scattered +around. It was known that two thousand prisoners preceded the column, escorted +by Spaniards, Portuguese, and Poles. Various opinions were emitted; some were +indignant, others approved or remained indifferent, according to the character of each. +Around the Emperor these different impressions found no voice, until Caulaincourt +burst out and exclaimed, ‘that it was an atrocious cruelty. This, then, is the civilisation +we bring to Russia! What effect would this barbarity have upon the enemy? +Did we not leave him our wounded and a host of prisoners? Would he lack the +opportunity of horrible reprisals?’ Napoleon maintained a gloomy silence, but upon +the morrow these murders had ceased. The unfortunate prisoners were allowed to +die of hunger in the enclosures into which, at night, they were huddled like cattle. +Doubtless it was still a barbarity; but what could be done? Exchange them? The +enemy refused. Set them free? They would have hastened to proclaim our destitution, +and soon they would have returned with their companions to harass our march. +In this unsparing war, to have given them life would have been to sacrifice ourselves. +We were cruel from necessity. The fault was, to have ever placed ourselves in so +terrible an alternative.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“On the other hand, during our march into the interior of Russia, our captive +soldiers were not treated more humanely, although the Russians had not imperious +necessity for an excuse.”—<span class='sc'>Ségur</span>, vol. ii. p. 149.</p> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c005'> +</div> +<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> + +<div class='chapter ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<table class='table0'> + <tr> + <th class='c011'>Page</th> + <th class='c011'>Changed from</th> + <th class='c012'>Changed to</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'><a href='#t298'>298</a></td> + <td class='c015'>young follow, caring no more for Indians</td> + <td class='c016'>young fellow, caring no more for Indians</td> + </tr> +</table> + + <ul class='ul_1'> + <li>Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + + </li> + <li>Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last chapter. + </li> + </ul> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75215 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57e (with regex) on 2025-01-26 18:09:26 GMT --> +</html> + diff --git a/75215-h/images/cover.jpg b/75215-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..72f3653 --- /dev/null +++ b/75215-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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